It was the arrival of my niece, Elizabeth, that started it all. She was my sister s only child and when Charlotte began divorce proceedings against her husband, Elizabeth was sent to stay with us by our mutual consent.
I must say that I was quite surprised when I met the child at the airport. Or perhaps child is the wrong word to describe her. She was altogether a ripe, luscious young thing of seventeen, delicious in the flowered skirt and pale yellow blouse that she was wearing that warm June afternoon.
Her figure seemed fuller than I remembered it to be. Her breasts had blossomed in the year I had not seen her so that they now swelled delightfully against her blouse. She was wearing one of those thin tricot brassieres underneath and this was perhaps worse than wearing nothing at all. I think I must have stared too hard at those young titties because before I knew what had happened, the nipples bloomed like cherries. It was really incredible the way they stiffened. I think that I was the only one to notice. Elizabeth looked at me and smiled. What sort of smile was it? A knowing smile, of course. But was there anything else to it? I was to find out later on.
She had been with us about two weeks already, and I must say that she had seemed to adjust quite well to our West Hartford household. My wife Catherine thought her an angel and my fourteen-year-old son Brian warmed up to her almost immediately. As far as I was concerned, she could remain with us through the summer and even into the fall. There was a private school not far away and being a good friend of the director, I was sure that she could gain admission if that had to be arranged.
So I was quite taken aback that Thursday evening, after dinner when my wife Catherine entered my study and asked if she might have a word with me. It concerned a certain problem that had arisen with Elizabeth. I put away the contracts that I was working on and leaned back in my swivel chair.
"So what is it, dear," I asked.
"Well," Catherine replied. "I don't exactly know how to put it. I mean, she is your niece and I wouldn't want you to think that I'm deliberately saying bad things about her. You know, I love the child."
"Yes, of course. But what is it that's upset you? You know I hate this beating around the bush."
"In a manner of speaking," my wife Catherine smiled, "that's the problem exactly. Earlier this afternoon, as I was passing by her room, I heard a strange sound coming from inside. It was almost as though she was crying."
"Oh...!"
"Well" Catherine continued, "the door was partly ajar, open just a fraction of an inch. Normally I would have knocked. But the impulse to peek in was absolutely irresistible."
"I see. You saw her doing something that she should not have," I asked.
"Well," Catherine answered. "She was sitting near the foot of her bed. Her blouse was unbuttoned and her brassiere had been loosened so that the cups were under her breasts."
"She was undressing, was she?"
"Not really undressing, Simon. It was more than just that. She was in the process of masturbation. She was diddling with herself, Simon."
The word "diddling" as it fell from Catherine's mouth suddenly set me on fire. I can't really explain why but my prick achieved instant erection. My fingers began to tingle with anticipation.
"Yes, Simon." my wife continued. "Her skirt was rolled up around her thighs and her panties were down around her knees. She had one hand between her legs, playing with that cunt of hers, while the other hand was massaging her ripe little titties."
"Did she know that you were standing there?"
"No, she was much too absorbed. Her eyes were closed, her body was shaking, her little fingers were moving in and out of that cunt hole of hers. I must admit, just watching her, made me get wet down under. My clitty started throbbing something awful."
"So what happened?"
"Well, finally I couldn't stand it any longer, so I walked away. I had to shower and change my undergarments as a result of the experience. In any case, when I returned to her room, I had resolved to have a little talk with her."
"And did you?"
"No, I didn't have a chance. She was gone, already out playing with her friends. Well, being that I was in the room, I decided to straighten things up. You'll never guess what I found."
"What?"
"A magazine."
"So...?"
"It's the sort of magazine that it was that makes it important. It was one of those pornographic things. It showed men and women together. One of them showed a man's prick in a woman's mouth. Another was of a man spanking a bare-bottomed girl ... filth."
"So what would you have me do about it? She is seventeen, you know."
"Yes, but she's also our responsibility. Have a talk with her, Simon. Find out if there's anything that's troubling her."
"Of course, if you wish, Catherine."
My wife thanked me and she got up to go. For some reason, however, I didn't want her to. There was important work that I still had to finish, but that could wait till later. Just now I was in the mood to fuck her-my wife, that is. I must admit, Elizabeth was also on my mind.
What was it that had aroused me? I'm not exactly sure. Perhaps it was the story that I had just heard. Or the sight of my wife's body. She was wearing a dress that fitted tightly against her bottom. When my eyes saw that luscious ass, there was no question of returning to my work anymore.
"Wait a second, honey. Don't go just yet."
"Why?" she asked shyly.
Her face was absolutely beautiful when she turned toward me. Her long black hair was done up in a bun above her head and her lips were red and juicy. She was remarkably good looking for a woman in her mid-thirties. Not that a woman is necessarily old and washed-up by the time she reaches that age. It's just that some of the women I know, especially after getting married, let themselves go. They gain weight, pay no attention to their bodies and consequently become quite unappealing in a sexual sense. Not so with Catherine. She had hardly aged at all, in the sixteen years that we'd been married, having gained just a little weight, but seemingly in all the right places. Her breasts were full and ripe, like two hanging fruits just begging to be gobbled up. Her thighs underneath her dress were delightfully shaped and the slight swell of her belly sent me heaving with desire.
"Darling," I said. "Did you get turned on watching Elizabeth play with herself?"
"Yes, I told you that I did."
"What about those pictures that you found in her room? Did those too turn you on?"
"Well...?"
"Be honest, darling."
"Well, that one of the girl getting spanked by the man was quite delightful."
"What about the one of the girl with the cock in her mouth? Did that turn you on."
"Mmmmm ... Yes," she nodded.
I was up from behind my desk in less than a second Catherine seemed quite surprised to find me standing right beside her. She made no attempt to resist as my arm went around her waist and down to the small of her back. I let my palm glide smoothly across the delicious curve of her bottom. She was wearing a pair of thin panties underneath, hardly anything at all, really. I could feel the warmth of her flesh through the dress and undergarment that covered it A soft little ass. I gathered it up, squeezed the cheeks ever so tenderly, running my fingers along the crack.
"Are you sure you want to leave, darling?" I asked Catherine.
"Only if you're busy."
I'm not busy just yet, but I will be in a minute or two."
"Doing what?" she asked. "Feeling you up," I replied.
"Do you still enjoy feeling me up?" she asked. "Do you still enjoy putting your hands up my crack? Do you still enjoy sucking on my bubbies?"
"Yes, your bubbies," I said breathlessly. "Open them up and let's have a look."
Catherine was wearing a light orange summer dress. It was sleeveless with a low neckline so that an ample portion of her cleavage was clearly visible. She reached for the zipper in the back, pulled it down half way and then slid her arms out of the dress. It fell down around her waist, so that except for the thin brassiere that she was wearing, she was naked at the top. The slight bulge of her belly quivered when I laid my hands on it. She was clean and fresh, delicately scented with a lemony perfume.
"Do you want to see them?" she asked. "Yes, show them to me," I repeated. "What will you do to them?"
"What do you want me to do?"
"Suck them up," she replied. "You know the way I like it I want you to lick them nice and easy and then bite on the nipples. Bite on them real hard."
As she spoke, she reached behind her and undid the hooks of the brassiere. The shoulder straps slid easily down her long white arms and a second later the cups fell to the carpeted floor, revealing the most marvelous white breasts that you would ever want to see. They were round like half globes, and they stood up firm and proud, not sagging when released from their supports. My mouth fell on them ravenously. I licked them first, covering their smooth surface with my tongue, tickling the flesh here, squeezing it there, making her squeal and yelp like a wild bitch in heat
"The nipples, Simon," she begged.
I didn't forget them for long. They were little pink nipples, pert little things that almost seemed to have a life of their own. When I took them into my mouth, Catherine began to swoon. The dress that was still clinging to her hips suddenly fell to the ground.
"Oh God, Simon," she cried. "Are you going to do it to me here, in your den?"
"Yes, right here," I nodded, looking into her soft, brown eyes.
"What about the children? Elizabeth or Brian might interrupt."
I moved quickly to the door and locked it. Now there was no more problem of being disturbed, though I can't say that I would have minded Elizabeth breaking in on us. From what I had heard about her, she seemed like a very tempting morsel. Just the thought of her and Catherine in the same room together, suddenly drove me up the wall. What a grand time I could have, putting my big prick into one and then into the other. Elizabeth probably had a tight little cunt. It would certainly be delightful probing the slit with the knob of my prick, easing myself gently into the furry gash. From there, I could turn my attentions to Catherine, to her more experienced, more expanded muff. First one and then the other. Again and again and again I would do it to them. Again and again and again I would fuck those lovely little wet holes.
These were the thoughts on my mind when I turned from the door. My wife Catherine was standing just where I had left her, in middle of the room. The dress that she had worn when she had entered was now lying in a heap at her feet, her brassiere right next to it. She was naked except for a garter belt around her waist, a pair of black silk panties and black fishnet stockings. She had slipped out of her shoes of her own accord.
"Do you still like the way I look, darling?" she asked.
"Yes."
"You'll enjoy fucking me, won't you?"
"Of course I will," I replied. "I always enjoy fucking you, you silly bitch."
I walked over to her and grabbed hold of the waistband of her panties. I tugged at them gently and a second later my hand was wiggling its way inside. My wife Catherine has a bushy little pussy. Nice black curly fur. She leaned back a little as I went for her twat
"Are you going to finger me?" she asked. "Yes, darling. Of course."
Her cunt was a three-inch curving gash. The labial lips were already slippery, covered with an incredibly warm liquid. I slid the very tip of my fingers across its luscious surface, brushing the clitty at the tip, moving down to the smooth pudendum, all the way around to the warmth of her anus.
"Stick it in," she whispered.
"Where?"
"Everywhere darling," Catherine replied. "Into the cunt and then into my asshole."
"You like it that way, don't you?"
"Mmmmmm ... Yes, darling. I love it that way."
She was breathing hard, sighing through her nostrils as my big middle finger snaked its way through the moist labial lips, probing them open and then entering the deep vaginal orifice. She was silky smooth inside there, very warm and sopping wet.
"Oh darling," she cried as my mouth was pressed down On top of hers. Her lips parted and she swallowed up my tongue.
"My ass," she cried. "Get your other hand into my ass. Please Simon, fill both my holes up with your lovely fingers."
She had washed recently so she was clean and if that's what she wanted then that's what she would get. Not that I minded either. My wife Catherine has a tight little asshole. I like fucking her in it and I also like shoving my finger into its softness.
Which is exactly what I did. While one hand was down between her legs, fingering her steamy, wet cunt, my other hand made its way down her back, into her panties, across the sweeping curve of her naked rump and down between the warm cheeks. I probed the crack, found the pink flower of her anal orifice, and pushed my way inside of it. Catherine squealed with naked pleasure.
"Oh darling," she cried. "Darling, my sweet, sweet darling."
"You can do better than that," I whispered into her ear.
"What do you want me to do?"
"My prick," I said. "Take it out of my pants."
"Yes darling," she cooed. "Only keep frigging me. Please don't stop diddling with my pussy. Play with it the way you used to before we got married. Remember?"
Boy, did I remember those days. It was just slightly before the sexual revolution. The Pill hadn't been perfected yet and the fear of pregnancy kept most girls virgins, including my wife Catherine. A technical virgin, though. That's what she was. We used to do everything except that one thing that might lead to a baby. Mostly in the backseat of my beat-up Rambler.
Mutual masturbation was our favorite pastime, especially when we were watching those stupid Victor Mature movies at the drive-in. We would start about ten minutes after the credits flashed off the screen. Catherine would always wear a skirt or a dress so that I could easily slide my hands underneath, between her legs and up to the mouth of her cunt She would always remove her panties before we started, tucking them into her pocketbook. It would start with me doing it to her and invariably end up with her doing it to me. Once I creamed all over her blouse and she had a difficult time explaining where the stain had come from. After that, I always had to tell her that I was about to come. She would bend over, open up her mouth and let me cream inside of it
"Remember how it used to be at those drive-ins," Catherine whispered. "You used to love diddling with me, and I used to love diddling with you. Boy, every time we went on a date, I used to just go crazy with excitement It hasn't changed one bit with us, has it darling?"
"Not one bit" I replied. "Now why don't you take Mister Ed out for a walk." Catherine liked to call my prick "Mister Ed" for some silly reason. Maybe because she thought it was as big as a horse's. Well, not exactly, but it was big enough for her hungry appetite.
"Go on," I repeated. "Take Mister Ed out for a little walk. Why don't you give him a rub down while I take care of Little Miss Muffett." For those of you who can't figure it out that's what I called her cunt She once sent me a card for my birthday addressed in the following manner: "From Little Miss Muffett to Big Mister Ed." When I saw it I started rolling all over the floor. My parents, who were in the living room at the time, never figured out what was so funny. Being that I was eighteen and she was sixteen at the time, I didn't think that it would go over too big with them if I explained.
So here we were, almost twenty years later and we were still playing the same game. It's what makes a happy marriage, I suppose, though there are other things that are involved as well.
Catherine reached down for my fly. She unzipped it carefully, gently, and then she pushed her soft white fingers inside and got Mister Ed by the reins. It was pretty stiff by now and it took a couple of pats from her palms to finish the job. She pulled it all the way out of my pants and held onto it firmly.
"You want me to jerk you off?" she asked. "The way I used to do it in the back seat of your Rambler? It'll be a nice change of pace."
"Yeah."
"Just remember to tell me before you're ready to shoot your spunk. I want to swallow it in my mouth. I just love to feel that big prick of yours shooting off. I like to lick it with my tongue. I like to feel it become violent and then meek as a lamb."
"And what shall I do to you, darling?"
"What you will," she replied. "But make me come. If you must, go down on me with your mouth. I love to have you do that to me."
"Yes, darling," I whispered softly. "But enough talk for now."
She was holding my quivering rod in the palm of her hands and she was stroking it the way one Would stroke a wild beast. Back and forth and back again, letting her fingers reach down to my balls. She scooped them up and squeezed them for a second and then continued pumping my hard prick, applying a most exhilarating pleasure to its surface.
I don't know why, but Elizabeth was back on my mind again. Sweet little Elizabeth. Just a couple of years ago, I used to bounce her on my knee. She had always been a nice little thing and I must admit that it used to give a charge when my hand touched her little rump. I used to slap it playfully, and she used to respond by hugging me tightly, rubbing her legs up and down my body.
But she was not a child any longer. She was a young adult, practically a mature woman, quite ready for a good fucking. Why, my wife Catherine was fifteen when I had started playing around with her. I wondered if Elizabeth had ever played around with anyone. I secretly hoped that she had not. I don't know why, except, perhaps, that I liked the idea of copping a cherry, of being the first man inside of her fresh little slit.
Already those thoughts were beginning to form in my head. Already I was thinking of seducing her. It made me all the more ardent as I played around with my wife's naked pussy.
"Oh darling, rub it harder. Rub my clitty, darling. Rub it and rub it and rub it till I can't stand it any longer."
By this time I had pulled one of my fingers out of Catherine's anus. We were still in the middle of the floor, standing up, our bodies pressed close. I was feeling a little tired and my mouth was getting sort of hungry for Catherine's juicy twat. I wanted a taste of it. I wanted to lick those thick, running juices with my tongue.
"Let's go down on the floor," I said to her. There was a thick rug for us to He on, and it was "clean enough to eat off of" as the popular saying is supposed to go.
Catherine let go of Mister Ed for a second and got down onto the carpet. I quickly undressed her, undoing the hooks of her garter belt and then rolling her black fishnet stockings down along her milky white thighs, past her knees and calves and down to her turned ankles. Next came her panties, which were sopping wet at the crotch. As is my usual fashion, I lifted them up to my nose and sniffed them. The aroma was absolutely breathtaking. It sent me swooning, my pulse rushing madly.
"Still like it, Simon?" she muttered. "Still like the way Utile Miss Muffett smells?"
"You bet"
"I remember the first time you did that the first time you asked to smell my panties. We were watching one of those surfer movies at the Walker Drive-In over near Meriden. I took them off the way I always used to on a date. So that it would be easy for you to finger me. Remember how wet I used to get?"
"You still do."
"I suppose I do," Catherine laughed. "Well, my panties were as sopping wet then as they are right now. Remember how I was about ready to fold them up and tuck them into my handbag?"
"I sure do." I replied. "At the time I was a little embarrassed to ask you for them, to ask you for your panties."
"Why were you embarrassed?" Catherine asked.
"Well, I was afraid that you would think that I was a pervert or some such thing. You know how it was. Everyone was so strait-laced in those days."
"Yes, I remember," Catherine confided. "I also remember that I was thrilled when you made your request. It made me feel very good about myself."
"Why?"
"Because I used to be ashamed of the way I got all wet. I used to be ashamed of how smelly my pussy used to get. I thought that a man wouldn't like it"
"You silly goose."
"Really, I was very embarrassed by the whole thing. But when you asked to smell my panties, that changed everything. It proved that my ... my vaginal wetness was not at all undesirable to a man. I was so pleased to learn that it actually turned some men on."
"And it still does," I laughed.
Catherine's body was spread out comfortably across the floor. I patted her juicy thighs and she opened them up real wide. My hand slid down there again. And then my mouth. It travelled first to her lips and then across her neck, past her succulent breasts, over the soft mound of her belly, down to the furry nest that lay near the entrance of her vagina.
The sweet smell wafted into my nostrils like perfume. Ifs a smell that's hard to describe, hard to really set down in words. Suffice it to say that it's like nothing else that you can smell, more aromatic and more enticing than the most expensive scents that can be bought in beauty shops.
Pretty soon my entire face was down between her legs, between her milky white thighs. I opened my eyes for a second so that I could get a close-up view of her twat. It was just a slit, that's all. A ruby red slit, with fur at the top. What made it so exciting then? What was it that nearly drove me insane. Logically it doesn't make any sense. I mean, logically, this whole sex thing is absolutely absurd. But men are not logical creatures. Neither are women, I suppose. It's emotion and instinct, not reason and rationality, that drive us forward. I opened my mouth, took a breath of air and slowly went to work on her, gently performing the exciting act of cunnillingus on her naked, spread-out pussy.
First I let my tongue run across the rim, across the ridges of her labial lips. They were swollen and folded over like two wet drapes. My tongue pushed them open and then darted into the vaginal cave on the other side. It was dark and dank and sweet smelling and luscious tasting. In and out I probed with my tongue, first slowly and then more quickly until I achieved a rhythmic pace.
"Oh Simon," she cried, writhing around madly on the floor. I was afraid that her screams and wild yelps would attract the lads. She piped down for a minute or two when I told her but pretty soon she started it up again.
"I can't help it, darling," she panted. "It's so good when you do it to me. It just drives me crazy when you eat my pussy like that"
"What else drives you crazy?" I asked, getting up for a second.
"You know darling," she replied. "You know what else Hike."
"What?" I asked teasingly.
"Do it to me all the way around with your tongue. All the way around the world, darling."
All the way around the world! What a beautiful expression. When I heard her say it, my mouth started to salivate.
"Go on, dearest," she motioned with her hand, pointing it in the direction of her twat "Show me that you really love me."
So I did! My tongue swept the broad expanse of her cunthole, pausing only a brief second before continuing its journey to the very farthest banks of the slit, arriving after a few seconds at the snowy white flesh of her pudendum.
"Turn over baby," I whispered.
She rolled over in one smooth, easy motion, her ass high in the air, the marble white cheeks flushed a delightful red.
I grabbed them with my hands first, squeezing them and then gently prying them open, exposing the reddish eye of her anus. My mouth went down on it, first finding the crack at the upper end and then sweeping all the way down to the slightly salty-tasting orifice. Catherine nearly went crazy when she felt me inside of her. I don't know why, really. I mean, there are no nerves there that can be stimulated. I suppose it was the idea of my doing ft to her that way that was so exciting, which only proves once more that good, satisfying sex is as much a question of the cerebral as it is of the physical responses of a person.
Before I knew what was happening, Catherine was up on all fours, her legs wide apart, doggie style. I still had my clothes on, which was a little awkward, so I decided that before this game went any further, I would quickly disrobe.
"Quickly, quickly...," Catherine prodded as I unbuckled my belt and let my trousers drop. Then my shorts, my shirt and my shoes were removed. A second later I was naked except for my socks, which Catherine grabbed and pulled off my feet
"You look real good, darling," she whispered, turning her face toward my stiff erection. She reached out for it like a child and she gave it a loving pat with her smooth white hands. Then she bent over and kissed it on the swollen knob.
"What do you want to do now?" I asked. "Jerk it off or something a little more daring?"
"More daring."
"Like what?"
"Doggie style," she said simply. "Bow-wow, baby, bow-wow."
She was down on all fours a second later and I mounted her the way a cur would mount a wild bitch, sliding my throbbing hot prick between her legs and straight into the mouth of her cunt. I started moving it slowly at first and then a little faster, till I had built up a nice head of steam. Catherine was yelling and panting in an incredible manner, responding to my motions with a rhythm of her own. The teeth of her cunt were chewing my cock in a most delightful way. She was swallowing me up and spitting me out again and swallowing me up. There were times when I almost felt as though she was trying to tear it off and keep it inside of her forever.
"Oh Simon," she panted. "Oh darling, darling Simon. Do it in my ass now. Fuck my ass, Simon. Fuck it nice and hard, Simon baby."
A second later she had what she was asking for. I pulled my cock, which by then was slimy with the juices of her insides, out of her twat. I slid it up along the smooth curve of her ass, jamming it almost with a vengeance into her asshole. She jumped when it made the initial penetration. She was nice and tight, which I liked, but after several quick strokes she loosened up.
"Give it to me hard and fast," she begged. "Hard and fast"
"Are you almost there?" I asked. "Yes, my darling. Just a little bit more and I'll be flying."
Just to ease the way for her, I slid my hands around her tits and started to tickle her little plump nipples. They felt like hard little raisins and that seemed to turn the trick. Catherine erupted like a volcano, her body shaking and pounding violently as the first tremors of orgasm engulfed her. It seemed to start in the area around her belly and then travelled in waves, first up her spine and then through her legs. She began to buck like a mare, which made it fun for me. The harder she pushed, the harder I found myself pushing till pretty soon it was my turn to come.
"Oh darling," she moaned. "Your spunk ... I can feel your spunk in my ass. I can feel it shooting up me like hot fire, like an exploding gusher."
And a gusher it was too. The sperm kept shooting out of me like there was no tomorrow. It barreled out of the tip of my cock in short, heavy machine-gun bursts, till finally there was no more left.
"Oh darling, that was beautiful," Catherine cried "Absolutely delightful."
I was still on top of her, my arms hanging down from her sides, my head resting on her back, right near her neck. Her black hair was wet and stringy and disheveled Her skin was covered with a veneer of sweat that seemed to glisten brilliantly in the pale lamplight of the room. I could feel my cock shriveling up inside of her and after several delicious moments, I pulled it out. My knees were weak and tired and before I knew what was happening, I was down on the carpeted floor, stretched out like a lion after a luxurious run through the jungle.
Catherine bent over and kissed my much receded organ in a most delightful manner and then she lay down beside me, her head on my chest, her legs pressed warmly against mine. I put my arm around her and hugged her tightly, enjoying the warmth of the aftermath in delicious silence. It wasn't a nervous or bored land of silence or the kind of silence that you find between two people who don't have anything to say to one another. No, it wasn't like that at all. Instead, it was almost as though we were talking to one another telepathically, through our bodies, through every gesture and muscle movement.
About five or ten minutes had elapsed before Catherine finally spoke.
"Oh dear," she whispered. "I'm afraid I've thrown you off your schedule."
"Anytime," I replied.
"Weren't you doing something important?"
"Nothing that can't wait."
"Then we must try it like this more often, darling. I like getting fucked in your study, down on the rug like this. But I had better get up before Brian or Elizabeth comes around looking for me. I wonder what they'd say if they saw me here lying next to you like this, all naked as a jaybird."
"I don't know about Elizabeth," I teased, "but I really think that Brian might get a bit turned on."
"Brian??"
"Sure, he's almost fifteen years old, which makes him practically a man already. If he ever got a look at that pussy of yours, I bet that his mouth might start to water."
"Really??"
"Of course."
"You think that he might want to fuck me?"
"Why not?"
"I can't think of a good reason. I guess incest is a game the whole family can play," Catherine said, giggling a bit. It sounds like a rather interesting idea, Brian and me going down together. I'll bet he's got a big rod, like his dear old dad "
"I hope that you don't intend to find out through personal experience."
"Just teasing, dear," Catherine replied, getting up off the floor. She found her panties and pulled them on. Then she slipped back into her brassiere.
"By the way, Simon," she said as she finished gettin dressed. "Please have that talk with Elizabeth that we discussed earlier. I mean, it's not very healthy for her to play with herself or to keep pornographic magazines in her bedroom. Maybe something is bothering her."
"Okay dear," I replied not too enthusiastically. "I'll talk to her first chance that I get."
CHAPTER TWO
As the days passed, I found that a strange sort of relationship was developing between myself and Elizabeth. On the surface nothing really seemed to have changed between us. Our conversations, for example, were innocent enough. We spoke mostly about the weather, about her adjustments to West Hartford, about the friends she had made and the things she was doing in her spare time. To an outside observer, it all would have looked casual enough. And yet there was a hidden tension to all this that seemed to change the very texture of our relationship.
Elizabeth, for example, would often seat herself opposite me and then, almost unconsciously, let her legs spread out. If it had happened only once or twice, I might have written it off as mere thoughtlessness. But she seemed to do this consistently enough so that I began to suspect that it was a deliberate act on her part, a deliberate attempt to tease me.
Then there were the times when we would meet in the hallway in the morning. She seemed always to wander out in brief panties and a flimsy pajama top, never attempting to hide herself from me. Almost deliberately giving me a good look at her.
There was no one thing really that I can point my finger to, but rather an accumulation of incidents that led me to suspect that Elizabeth would not mind very much if I attempted to bed her down.
So what was a man in my position to do, having arrived at this conclusion? Damn the torpedoes and full speed ahead, or proceed with caution? Such was my quandary and I must admit that I spent many after-: noons at my office trying to resolve it. Fortunately for me the entire matter was finally taken out of my hands.
It happened this way. It was about a month after she had come to stay with us, a mild Tuesday afternoon in early August. I left my job as usual, briefcase in hand, and was about to hop into my automobile when I heard a familiar voice calling me from behind.
"Uncle Simon. ... Oh, wait up Uncle Simon." I turned and there she was, her silky blonde hair piled on top of her head like threads of gleaming gold. She wore a blue halter top that revealed the little cherry nipples and the ample curve of her breasts underneath, j And she also wore matching blue shorts that started somewhere about three inches below her navel and which were so tight fitting that I could have sworn that I saw the outlines of her cunt through it. Certainly it concealed nothing of her lovely shape, the hourglass curve of her hips and the smooth swell of her well-rounded little ass. She was carrying a package with her and the smile on her lips was unmistakably provocative.
"Hi Liz," I said. "What're you doing around here?"
"Shopping. I decided to pay you a visit. Where are you going now?"
"Home."
"Oh, don't," she whispered. "I'd rather you take me I for a little ride. Do you mind terribly?"
She was standing so close to me now that I could actually feel the heat of her body burn into my flesh. There was a smell to her that was incredibly delectable, a mixture of some sort of perfume and a musky feminine aroma that her skin seemed almost always to exude. My head was spinning for a second, and I had to swallow hard before I was able to recover my equilibrium.
"What's the matter, Uncle," she asked. "Do I make you nervous?"
"A little," I replied.
"Why? Is it because you want to fuck...." she paused for a second, her moonbeam eyes probing my facial expression. It seemed like an eternity passed before she continued with what she was saying. "Is it because you want to fuck me and you haven't gotten up the courage to make the first move?"
"What is this you're saying?" I whispered, pretending to be shocked. She saw right through it, taking one of my hands and for one brief second pressing it up against the slope of her crotch.
"You were looking so hard," she explained when she drew away, "that I thought you might like a little touch. I don't wear panties underneath. Especially not on such a hot day."
"Why did you do that?" I asked.
"Because I thought you might enjoy it Isn't that a good reason?"
I was speechless. I lifted the hand that had rested so briefly on her love mound and I brushed it across my nose. The scent was unmistakable. It was the swell of wet, juicy cunt. The thought of it made my entire body shiver. My penis, as though it possessed a life of its own, suddenly stiffened and bulged out against my trousers.
"Come on," Elizabeth said. "Let's get in your car before someone sees us."
A second later we were moving out of the parking lot, speeding down Broad Street toward the open highway. The traffic had not yet picked up, so I was doing sixty with ease. The air conditioner was already blowing cole air into the sealed-in compartment. Elizabeth was curled up like a kitten in the seat beside me, her long white legs spread wide apart, one hand resting provocatively in the center, on the slope of her love mound.
"Admit it," Elizabeth whispered. "You've wanted to fuck me from the very first day."
"What makes you say that?" My hands were on the steering column but my mind was very far from the road. Very far indeed.
"Oh, come off it, Uncle, you don't have to play games with me. I'm not a baby, you know. I see things. For example," she smiled. "I can see that bulge in your pants, right now. It means that your rod is nice and stiff and ready for a little good old-fashioned fucking. Am I wrong?"
"You sound more experienced than I could possibly have imagined."
"Oh, I'm experienced enough," she replied.
"You're not a virgin, I take it then."
"Is anyone?" she replied rhetorically. "I stopped being a virgin when I was fifteen, dear Uncle."
"Really. How did it happen?"
"Will it excite you if I talk about it?"
"It might"
"Then I might as well tell you about it After all, we're going to become lovers and there ought to be no secrets between lovers."
I nodded somewhat reluctantly: "So you were fifteen when you had your first sexual experience. With whom was it?"
"Well, I don't really know his name," Elizabeth replied. "That is, I can't really remember it. I think it was Jimmy or Jamie or something of that sort. He was one of my mother's boyfriends."
"Your mother's boyfriends," I said, somewhat shocked. "Your mother had boyfriends?"
"Didn't you know?" Elizabeth replied in a nonchalant tone of voice. "That's why they're getting divorced."
"But, but...."
"But what?" Elizabeth asked. "Just because she's your sister, doesn't make her any different than anyone eke. She was just like any other woman. She liked a nice hard cock inside of her pussy. She used to fuck like a bunny. With practically anyone that she could get into bed. Not only men either. I know of at least two women with whom she had brief affairs. There were probably others. I guess Dad couldn't stand it any longer, which is why they're finally getting divorced."
Could this possibly be true? I mean, Charlotte, Elizabeth's mother, was my sister. I thought I knew her pretty well. I had been under the impression that she was ... well, virtuous. When I heard that she was get ting divorced, I naturally assumed it was her husband's fault.
"Oh, Mom was a real tramp," Elizabeth confided. "She never even made a big secret out of it. One day, for example when I was about eleven or twelve, I came home from school, I found her in the living room with a man, a black fellow who did the gardening around the house. He was down on the floor with his cock sticking through his zipper and she was bent over him, with her mouth right on top of it. It took them several seconds to realize that I was there. You see, we'd been let out of school early that day because of some electrical problem that had occurred in the wiring."
"And you say that she was giving him a blow-job."
"Was she ever," Elizabeth replied. "He was lying stretched out on the floor, and she was down on all fours, standing over him, her mouth down by his cock, her ass high in the air, where he could reach it with his hands. Boy, the two of them were really going to town. Her mouth was gliding up and down the shaft. Up and down and all the way around, sucking, licking, biting ... just having a slam-bang time with that nine-inch piece of meat. At least I think it was nine inches long. And it was fat and juicy. All things considered, a mighty nice piece of meat from a woman's viewpoint."
"And you say her ass was pointing in his direction."
"Yeah, that's the way it was," Elizabeth nodded. "And he was really making the best use of it. He had these real long fingers and he was frigging her like there was no tomorrow. He had one finger up her ass and another inside of her cunt. It was a wet cunt, let me add. Boy, it was just dripping with juices."
"Are you sure that you're not making all this up?"
"Come off it, Uncle. I may be a lot of things, but I'm certainly not a bar. I saw it all with my own eyes. Mom was blowing the gardener and he was frigging her ass and her cunt."
"What did they say when you burst in on the scene like that?"
"It took them a while to realize that I was there. You see, they were quite absorbed in their little games. Mom was the first to see me. I was a real cute kid, my hair in pigtails, dressed in a green skirt and white blouse and plaid socks, my little plump knees showing. Mom gasped with horror when she caught sight of me. This caused her to bite down hard on the gardener's cock. I think she nearly injured him because he started to scream."
"So you interrupted things very nicely."
"Very nicely, indeed," Elizabeth retorted. "My mother told me to get up to my room and not come down till she called for me. Which is what I did. About twenty minutes later everything was back in order."
"The gardener was gone??"
"Yes-permanently. Poor fellow!!! I mean, it wasn't his fault if my mother had hot pants. It wasn't his fault that I broke in on them like that. Still, I guess Mother decided that it was best if she got a new gardener."
"And did she ever talk to you about the incident?"
"She never even mentioned it. It was as though I'd never seen anything, as though nothing had ever happened. Naturally I thought about it a great deal. I mean, I used to have dreams about that big black cock sticking up high in the air. Mother seemed to have had such a wonderful time sucking on it that it made me wish that I could have a taste too. But that didn't come till much later, till I was fifteen years old."
"And this fellow Jimmie or Jamie or whatever the hell his name is....He's the one who broke you in."
"Yes," Elizabeth nodded. "He was the delivery boy from the drugstore. It seems that he and Mother had been having an affair for several months befoe he got to me. It all happened on a Saturday afternoon. Dad was at the store and Mother had gone shopping with some of her friends. I guess she must have forgotten that she had an appointment with the delivery boy."
"And you were alone in the house, I presume."
"Yes, quite alone. I had just a slight touch of a cold and so I was taking it easy, listening to some records and reading those rock 'n' roll magazines. It was a cloudy afternoon, the rain washing down in buckets. I felt nice and safe inside and really was quite content to be all by myself when the front door rang."
"The plot thickens."
"It sure does," Elizabeth nodded, her hand still resting neatly on her crotch.
The traffic on the highway was beginning to get heavy so I turned down one of the exits, took a right and started driving along a rather obscure two-lane country road. The scenery was quite pleasant, trees and hills and old farmhouses lined up delightfully along the sides.
"So what happened?" I asked.
"I answered the door," Elizabeth replied. "The delivery boy was standing on the other side and when he saw me he asked where my mother was."
"So what did you say?"
"I told him that she was out."
"Did he turn to leave?"
"Yes, at first he did," Elizabeth whispered. "But then he remembered that he had a phone call to make. He asked if he might use our telephone. I said that he might and that's how it all began." Elizabeth scratched the top of her head for a second, furrowing her forehead in an expression of deep contemplation. "Let's see now, his name was Jamie. Now I remember, it was definitely Jamie."
"Go on, go on," I said breathlessly. "Let's hear what happened."
"All in good time," Elizabeth replied. "I can't rush this thing. I want to be as accurate as possible. After all, you wouldn't want me to skip over any parts."
"No, of course not."
"Well, anyway, I let Jamie come into the house and make his telephone call. He was dripping wet. I was wearing a pair of tight blue jeans, the kind that are faded at the knees and on the behind. I was also wearing a tight sweater and my titties stood up against them like two little apples. When Jamie got a good look at me inside the house, his eyes seemed to bulge in his forehead. And something else too."
"So what happened."
"'You know kid,' he said to me, 'you're a pretty swell looker.' Naturally I was flattered by the compliment. I mean, I didn't go out much at the time and I had some doubts about my attractiveness. I didn't think that boys found me pretty."
"How wrong you were."
"I sure was, because Jamie started saying all sorts of nice things to me. He told me that I was beautiful, that I ought to be in pictures."
"In pictures!" I exclaimed. "What a corny line."
"Now that I think about it, I guess it was," Elizabeth agreed. "But I had very little experience at the time. Hardly any to speak of, really."
"So you fell for it."
"Boy did I. He started telling me that he had a friend who was a photographer for all the big magazines and he thought that I would make an excellent model. Then he explained that models made plenty of money, fifty and sixty dollars an hour. He asked me if I was interested. Naturally I said I was. I mean, I didn't have very much money and the prospect of making that much just by letting someone photograph me was quite exciting."
"So what happened?"
"Well, Jamie said that he would have to have a closer look at me. He wanted to see what I looked like in a bathing suit. I said that I'd go upstairs and change into one if he wanted but he told me that it wasn't necessary. He was in a rush and he had a better idea."
"And what was that?"
"He suggested that I get out of my pants and sweater."
"He sure didn't waste any time."
"Not at all."
"Did you?"
"At first I didn't I mean, the prospect of stripping in front of a perfect stranger went against my better grain. But he was a very smooth talker. He said that I was being very, very silly. After all, I was wearing panties and a brassiere underneath. It was the same as a bikini, wasn't it? This was my big chance, he warned, and I would be very foolish if I let it slip by."
"So what did you do?"
"I said that I'd take off my sweater, but that's all."
"How did he react to that?"
"He seemed pleased. He helped me get it off and while he was doing this his hands brushed against my breasts. Quite deliberately, too. At first I was angry and wanted to scream at him, but after a second or so I realized that I liked it. He must have realized too because he became bolder and bolder, fondling them quite openly.
"'Quite a good-looking girl,' he whispered, his arms circling my naked waist. 'How's about getting your pants off so that I can get a glimpse of the rest of you."
"'Are you sure it's all right?" I asked.
"'Of course, my girl, of course.' By this time he already had his hands inside of my slacks. He undid the button at the top and pulled the fly down across my crotch. I stood there completely flabbergasted, my hands down at my sides, almost like a puppet."
"And he continued to take advantage of you."
"He was slick, all right, a real slick fellow. Jamie was about nineteen years old and I guess that he had a fairly good idea about how such things are carried off. Before I could say a thing or make an attempt to stop him, he already had my trousers down around my knees and he had his hands between my legs, pressed up right against my crotch."
"Did you enjoy it?"
"It was the first time that anyone had ever touched me there. I mean, I used to diddle with myself. What girl doesn't? But I'd never let a boy touch me there. He was rubbing my cunt right through the silk of my panties with one hand while he had another pressed inside of my cleavage. My eyes closed almost automatically and I began to breathe very softly, practically moaning like a little girl. It was so thrilling to feel those hard fingers of his slither along the mouth of my cunt. It was better than anything that I'd ever experienced in my entire life.
"'Come on baby,' he said, taking my hand and leading me over to the couch. "Why don't you sit down and we'll have a look at you without any clothes. You don't mind, do you? Of course you don't, sweetie. Like mother like daughter."
"What do you mean by that?' I asked. 'Are you Mom's ... Mom's lover?"
"There was a twinkle in his eye when he heard my question. He was quite forthright with me, made no attempt to hide anything from me. Of course he was my mother's lover, he said. He used to fuck her all the time and when he rang the bell earlier, he expected to see her.
"'We really didn't have an appointment,' he explained. 'But I was feeling kind of horny and your mother is always good for a bang. A real hot bitch, she is, a real hot little bitch!"
We had left the paved road by now and were traveling along one of those dirt ones, gravel flying up from my wheels as I passed over it. The story that Elizabeth was telling me was making my head spin with delight. There was no question about it any more. She would be mine before this afternoon passed away. I would be inside of her pants very soon and I would be allowed to touch that juicy wet twat that lay underneath. I would be permitted to explore that steamy little love hole with my fingers and my tongue and with ... with my cock which was hard as a rock and busting up through my pants like a giant cedar.
"So what did you do when you found out that Jamie was your mother's lover?"
"At first it made me feel bad. I mean," Elizabeth explained, "this guy had already been inside of Mother and now he was going to get inside of me. It seemed land of dirty and wrong to me. I was going to protest, but he didn't give me a chance. He shoved me down against the couch and ripped my panties right off my legs. Before I knew what had happened, he had his fly unzipped and his cock hanging out of his pants. It was a big cock, too. It kind of reminded me of the gardener. When I saw how hard it was, I almost instinctively reached out and grabbed it. I started petting it with my fingers. I rubbed it all over, gliding my palm along the shaft, reaching underneath and fondling the sac filled with the two little eggs. It was thrilling. I felt almost like a little child, like a baby. I no longer had control of myself. He had completely overwhelmed me with that beautiful prick of his. I was his slave and he could have made me do anything that he wanted, anything at all"
"And what did he do to you?"
"Well, he told me to spread my legs open so that he could look at my raw cunt. I did as he commanded Then he told me to stick one of my fingers inside."
"One of your own fingers??"
"Yes, he told me to diddle with myself. He wanted to watch me. Of course I obeyed. After all, what else could I do. After a while, he told me to take my hand and lick it off. He wanted me to have a taste of myself. So I did it. I took the same fingers that I had diddled with and put them into my mouth."
"Then what??"
"Then he walked over to me and told me to take my brassiere off so that he could have a look at my titties. He said that he wanted to bend over and suck my nipples, which is what he did when he had me completely undressed. He bit them and licked them and sucked on them till I was flying like a bird. Before I knew what was happening, he had my head bent over his lap. He told me to take his prick into my mouth.
"'Go on, girl,' he commanded. 'Suck it off just the way your mother likes to do whenever I come for a visit. Go on, suck on that big cock of mine till it's shooting cream."
"How can I describe the ecstasy that I was filled with when I finally got a chance to put my lips around that hard piece of meat? What words can I use that will adequately convey the feelings that I experienced? This had been my dream for so many years, ever since I had seen Mom doing it to the gardener. Now I was finally getting my turn. Finally...."
As Elizabeth spoke, she had her eyes closed, as though she was reliving the experience again. She had begun rubbing her crotch, rubbing herself through the thin blue material of her hot-pants outfit, playing with herself as I looked on. I'll tell you, it was very hard keeping my eyes on the road or keeping my mind on my driving.
"Oh, it was so wonderful," she whispered, "having his big prick inside of my mouth and his hand on my cunt. It got me so excited that I actually had an orgasm."
"Really??"
"Really," she nodded. "I climaxed right then and there. The delivery boy, Jamie, was quite pleased with himself. Pretty soon he had me lying down flat on the couch and he turned over and went down on me with his face. He ate my pussy like a real expert, getting me ready for a second round of orgasms."
"He made you come with his mouth?"
"He sure did. Man, it was really terrific when he took my clitty into his mouth and started sucking and biting down on it. It didn't take me very long to come again. Like a damn tornado. That's how it felt Like an explosion was ripping through my body."
"What about him?" I asked. "Did he get to shoot any spunk off yet? Did he ejaculate?"
"No, not yet He was saving it all for my pussy. He picked up my legs, after the second climax had passed and he shoved that big hunk of meat right into my cunt and he really started to drill. It was unbelievably delightful to feel it inside of me. It was almost as though it belonged there, almost as though he was filling a void. He kept pumping me with it till I was back up in seventh heaven. Just as I was about to climax, he ejaculated, filling me with gobs and gobs of that sweet, sweet cream."
"Sounds exciting," I whispered.
"Man, just thinking about it gets me all hot and bothered," Elizabeth confessed. She was still rubbing her crotch and she had one hand underneath her halter, fondling her breasts.
"Oh god, Simon," she begged. "Why don't you stop this damn car and do it to me? Please, Simon, I can't wait any longer. I tell you, I'll scream in a second if you don't do it to me."
And I could see that she wasn't kidding either. For a second I felt a slight pang of guilt. After all Elizabeth was my niece. She had been entrusted to me to take care of. Wouldn't it be wrong of me to take advantage of that trust? Wouldn't I be the worst cad in the world if I let my passions get the better of me?
And then, of course, there was the question of my wife Catherine. Did I dare risk my marriage, which was a very happy one as far as I was concerned, for a moment of simple pleasure? After all, Elizabeth was a child, albeit a rather amply built one. Could I trust her to keep the secret from my wife? What would happen if she ever became angry with me? Might she not try to get back at me by telling my wife that I had seduced her?
So, I experienced many doubts as that moment of truth came closer. But they all vanished when I looked into Elizabeth's beautiful green eyes, when I saw once again the fullness of her young, succulent body. What was there to worry about? I asked myself. Wasn't this what I had dreamed about since her arrival more than a month ago? I would be a fool if I didn't take advantage of the situation.
So, throwing all caution to the wind, I searched for a clearing in the surrounding woods where I could park the car. Needless to say, my entire body was trembling with the thrill of anticipation.
CHAPTER THREE
I stopped in front of a broken-down red barn, the kind that you often see when you drive through the Country. We were about thirty-five miles west of Hartford and I felt quite sure that this was as safe as any place could be. A broken-down picket fence covered with ivy surrounded us. Weeds and pretty wildflowers grew on the hilly ground and a small babbling brook meandered nearby. It was all really very pretty and peaceful. I took the key out of the ignition and pocketed it and then I turned toward Elizabeth who was leaning back comfortably in her seat, her legs spread wide apart, her hands resting gently on the white expanse of her exposed thighs.
"Well...." I said stupidly.
"Well...." she replied in a voice that was soft and sexy and somewhat wistful. Her eyes, green in the afternoon sun, were cast down to the floor, her head just slightly turned away from mine. Was she trying to avoid me? Had she suddenly changed her mind? Girls can be like that, you know. Well, as far as I was concerned, there was no turning back. I had to have her. I had to have that young, nubile body. I had to touch it, taste it, get inside of it so badly that my flesh was practically quivering with desire.
Without warning, I reached out and picked up Elizabeth's hand. It was incredibly soft, incredibly warm and just slightly damp. I pulled it up to my mouth and Idssed it first, running my tongue along her thin white fingers. Her head fell back for a second, her eyes closed,! her ruby red lips began to tremble. She was moaning softly, almost silently, like a small animal that's being petted. It was clear now that I had her, that I could do with her as I pleased, that before this afternoon was I over I would get inside of that juicy wet cunt of hers without the slightest bit of trouble.
"Elizabeth," I whispered, tickling the inside of her palm in a suggestive way. "Elizabeth, do you want to I touch my cock?"
"Your cock," she repeated. "Oh gosh, yes."
"Then go ahead," I commanded, letting go on her hand. "Go and get it like a good little girl."
She looked at me at first, not exactly sure what to do, her hand dangling in mid air, just as I had left it a few seconds ago. Her eyes were open by now, her legs squeezed tightly together, her pink tongue licking the rim of her moist lips.
Time seemed to stand still for one long, interminable moment as she was making up her mind what to do. Not that there was any question that she would go through with it. Just that she was a bit hesitant as I myself was, as probably anyone would be given similar circumstances. I stared for a moment at her long white legs. Beautiful legs. Incredibly beautiful. The tight blue hot pants that she was wearing clung to her body like a second skin and I could clearly see the mound of her cunt when her thighs opened up again for a brief moment. I could also see a dark, damp stain forming where the fabric of her clingy shorts came in contact with the opening of her vaginal orifice. That could only mean one thing. She was already beginning to lubricate. Her pussy was already starting to get wet, to make the preparations for the sacred act of intercourse. How long would it take, I wondered, before I would get inside of those pants, before I could actually touch the raw red pubis underneath, before my fingers could probe the moist interior, before my hard cock would be permitted to push through the labial gates and explore the lush, juicy interior.
"Elizabeth, darling," I suddenly whispered. "Come on, open up my zipper like a good little girl."
"Yes, I want to be a good little girl," she replied. "A good little girl does what her Uncle tells her to do, so I will obey your command."
Her hand suddenly dropped from where it had been hanging in mid air, falling to the crotch of my light, polyester trousers with dazzling speed. My cock had been hard through most of the trip out of Hartford and by now it was practically bursting through my pants, forming a thick bulge that was clearly visible to anyone who cared to look. And Elizabeth had looked very closely and had been quite impressed by what she had seen. You could see it in her eyes, which seemed to shine like diamonds, and in her lips, which were slack and sensual, and in the way her neck was craned and her head bent. She moaned a low guttural sound and then closed a fist around the bulge and began to squeeze softly on the erection.
"Oh, it's so hard," Elizabeth whispered. "I'll bet your wife, Catherine, likes to feel it climbing between her legs. I'll bet she likes to take it in her mouth, to hold it in her hands."
"I suppose," I replied modestly. This mention of Catherine suddenly made me feel somewhat nervous. What would she think, if she knew that Elizabeth and I were out here in the country getting ready for some good old-fashioned fuckingp Just the thought of being discovered by my own wife suddenly made me lose my erection.
"Hey," Elizabeth whispered. "What's the matter here? You were so nice and hard just a moment ago and now you're soft as a fat little worm. That's terrible."
Without waiting another second, she reached for my zipper, tugged at the nib and pulled the thing open. She unfastened the hook at the top, and then pushed her slim young hand inside my trousers, through the part in my jockey shorts and toward the flaccid, semi-hard meat of my cock. She almost cried out when she first was able to touch it, so thrilled was she at that moment. You could see her body go slack, her eyelids close almost against her will her legs open and then close tight around the opening of her cunt.
"Oh god," she moaned. "It's so good ... this cock of yours. It's the best thing in the whole world."
"Even if it's soft?" I asked.
"I don't mind," she replied. I'll get it hard, my love, get it nice and hard and then I'll show it such pleasure that it'll be grateful to me for the rest of its natural life."
She looked down at my hanging took petting it first with her fingers the way one would pet a stray puppy. She kept saying "Nice little baby," to it while she continued to stroke the soft meat, tickling the enormous head, scratching the underside, applying an exhilarating friction as she ran her warm palms along the throbbing surface.
"I know what you want," she whispered, addressing my penis as though it had a personality and a life of its own. "I know what you would like to see. Wouldn't you like to see my little pussy? Wouldn't you like to touch it? Wouldn't you like to taste its warm wet juice? Sure you would, my love."
The words "warm wet juice" had a magical effect on me. In an instant the blood started rushing to my organ and what had just been a limp, flaccid rod was suddenly an erect, throbbing lance. The thing was rock hard, pointing in the air like a giant finger. Elizabeth was masturbating it slowly, rubbing it, kneading and squeezing the flesh. She reached inside my pants and she grabbed hold of the sagging flesh of my scrotum, pulling at it and applying a delicious friction to each of my testicles. She seemed to enjoy their texture, the way they slid in her palms and I could see that she was really getting hot and excited with sexual pleasure.
"Now it's my turn," I whispered, stroking her arms and cupping my palms against her soft cheeks.
"For what?" she asked dreamily.
"Well," I replied. "You know what I've got and I'd like to see what you've got."
"My pussy," she asked. "Is that what you'd like to see?"
"Yes," I answered. "Your pussy."
Then be my guest. She's all yours," Elizabeth whispered. "You can do anything you want to my beautiful wet pussy."
"Good little girl," I laughed, letting my hands slide down to her thighs. I touched them gently at first, and then forced Elizabeth to spread them open for me. God, it was beautiful to see how wet she had become since I had first parked the car, about ten minutes ago. The juices were running freely now and the small, darkish stain that I had noticed earlier was quite large now, sopping wet, and delightful to behold.
"Go on and feel me up," she whispered.
Yes, I was going to feel her up. Finally, after all this time, my most secret fantasy would be fulfilled. For a second I had the feeling that I was dreaming. Surely one's seventeen-year-old niece does not spread her legs and ask to be felt up. Surely one's seventeen-year-old niece does not act the way Elizabeth was now acting. At least such things do not happen in real life.
And yet this was no dream. Elizabeth was as real as I was and what was happening between us was not a mere figment of my imagination. I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with fresh country air and then, without further ado, I let my excited hands roam along the sweet young flesh of her inner thighs. I moved slowly, silently, one inch at a time, climbing toward the wetness that lay nuzzled like a treasure in the cleft of her spread-open legs. Soon I was at the fringe of her silky blue hot pants, just inches away from the hot gash. The lips of the mound were clearly visible through the fabric of her shorts and at first I began to rub them through the pants, to massage the mouth of her cunt through the clingy material of her summer shorts.
"Oh Simon," she moaned, repeating my name again and again in an almost endless litany. It was as though she was reciting some chant as she panted my name between low, guttural sighs of ecstasy.
"Shall I strip you?" I asked somewhat teasingly.
"Yes, Simon," she whispered. "Oh please, yes. Strip me."
"Good girl," I laughed, bending over to plant a kiss of approval on her slightly damp forehead. Her hair, which had been neatly coiffed on her head, had now come apart and was hanging like strands of fine yellow gold down the side of her face and neck and shoulders. Her pert little nose, cute as a button, seemed to flare as her breathing became more heavy, as her sighs became sonorous with the sound of intense sexual desire.
I bent down to kiss her forehead again, to lick her nose and taste the sweet wine of her ruby-red lips. I kissed her mouth hard and with passion, my fingers still between her legs, my hands still pawing her pussy through the sopping wet fabric of her blue hot pants.
Elizabeth opened her mouth for me and sucked my tongue into the hot opening. Her teeth were clean and slippery as I ran my tongue along their surface. I rubbed it across the hard ridges of her upper palate, along the softness of her inner cheeks, reaching as far down into her throat as I could. She was warm everywhere, sweet and wet with passion.
In my mind this tongue kiss was just foreplay for another kind of kiss that I would soon experience. The thought of it sent my head reeling with wild desire. Her cunt was waiting there for me, waiting to be explored, examined, waiting to be fucked. I kept massaging it through her hot pants, stroking it softly at first and then harder and harder, playing with it the way you would play with a little animal.
She still had her hand on my big dick and she had been rubbing it all this time, even as I had been rubbing her vaginal orifice. But now, as my caresses were growing more intense and as her sexual excitement grew more demanding, Elizabeth relinquished the massive organ, and fell back against her seat like a little puppet on a string, her arms dangling loosely at her sides, her mouth hanging open, her tongue sticking out from the corner like a little pink serpent She was mine, I thought to myself, all mine. I could do with her as I pleased. If I wanted to, I could fuck her in the cunt, in the ass, in the mouth ... anywhere at all. This feeling of sexual power exhilarated me, thrilled me through and through like a massive dose of adrenalin.
I looked down at her sweet feminine body in such easy repose against the car seat. I could see her little breasts, two soft mounds of pure pleasure. Her pink nipples had stiffened underneath the blue halter she was wearing and they were clearly visible, hard and ripe like two summer berries.
"My bubbies," Elizabeth whispered. "Please loss my bubbies."
"Of course, my sweet darling," I replied, reaching for the halter top, peeling it up over her breasts so that it now covered the top. Her titties popped out from underneath like bouncy little balloons. I was quite surprised by their large size, by their roundness and firmness. They didn't sag in the least bit, but stood out proudly, like two exquisite fruits, perfectly white and smooth, tinged on the underside with a trace of bluish vein. The nipples were situated squarely in the center of each fleshy hillock and they were the color of fresh strawberries, flaming crimson, hard and ripe and just begging to be eaten. Without so much as a word of warning, I fell on them like a wolf on a lamb, kissing each of those delightful mammaries, sucking and biting and licking the milky white surface of each trembling breast.
I saved the nipples for last kissing them and then taking the left one in my mouth while pinching the right one with my fingers. I sucked that left nipple like a little baby looking for milk. I chewed it first with my lips, then with my tongue and my teeth till Elizabeth was practically howling with wild desire. I gave that left nipple one last kiss and now switched over to the right one, my hand still nuzzled against Elizabeth's juicy cunt.
I worked on her breasts for almost fifteen minutes, practically driving her up the wall with the soft, sensual caresses of my mouth and fingers. Her head was leaning all the way back, her body gyrating like a hot machine, her hips and ass wiggling as though she had ants in her pants. Well whatever it was that she did have in those hot pants of hers, it wouldn't be long before I would find out.
There were three little buttons right at the crotch. White buttons that were round and shiny and that stared up at me like little white eyes. I reached for the top one with my hand and with one hard pluck, opened it up. Then the second one and then the third. The fabric of her shorts fell open and for the first time I was able to have a look at what I had only been able to dream about until now.
Some women are dark and furry down there. My wife Catherine, for example, is covered with a thick pubic bush that practically obscures the hanging lips of her raw cunt. In order to get a good look at it, I have to make her he down on the bed and spread her legs apart and then I shine a fluorescent lamp on her cunt. This enables me to examine it closely, to look at its exquisite beauty, at its marvelous sensuality.
With Elizabeth, however, all this would have been quite unnecessary as she was practically hairless. She had the pussy of a young girl, a few soft strands of fur growing under her belly but in no way obstructing or impeding a clear view of her cunt.
The hanging lips were visible from the very first moment that I opened up her hot pants. It was a marvelously red gash, the lips thick and juicy and flung wide open so that the deep hole that they were meant to protect was easily accessible.
"Oh baby," Elizabeth moaned. She lifted herself off the seat, and by shaking her hips rather vigorously was able to push her pants down her thighs and off her legs. Now she was naked, wearing only sandals and a halter top that was lodged on the uppermost portion of her plump breasts. "You beautiful little bitch," I whispered, kissing her pert little mouth once again. "Come on, let's get out of this car."
"Don't you like it in here?" she asked.
"Too cramped. It'll be better out in the open. I've got a blanket that we can he on top of."
I gave my niece one more kiss and then I opened the door and we both got out of the car. It was a little cool in the fresh air, but in a refreshing sort of way. I took the blanket out of the trunk and spread it out under a big shady oak tree, setting four heavy rocks on the edges so that the wind wouldn't blow it away. Then I let my trousers fall to the ground, unlaced my shoes, unbuttoned my shirt as Elizabeth looked on. A moment later I was completely naked, my cock standing high and proud, my balls dangling in the sac underneath.
Elizabeth was also naked, having left her pants in the car and having just slipped out of her halter. What an exquisite piece of female flesh she was. Those large, bouncy breasts made my mouth water with joy. Those hour-glass hips of hers, those marvelously long legs and narrow waist-they made me breathless with passion.
"Turn around," I said.
"Why?"
"I want to see your ass," I replied.
"My ass. ... It's a good ass," she laughed. "Men like to pinch my ass, and squeeze it and feel it up. Would you like to feel up my ass?"
"I don't know yet," I whispered. "I haven't had a chance to see it."
"Yes, I'd better turn around."
She moved like a ballerina, pirouetting on her right heel til she had turned completely around. God, I had never in my life seen such a thing of pure beauty. It enflamed me with sexual desire, that lovely white ass of hers. The cheeks were perfectly round, firm and smooth and just slightly dimpled when she moved. The crack between the cheeks was deep and luscious, leading all the way around to the whiteness of her thighs and the moist crack of her cunt.
I went over to her, wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her down onto the blanket. I kissed her on the lips first then on her neck and the hollow of her throat My mouth travelled slowly and gently across the mounds of her milky white breasts, down past her flat stomach, past her fleshy belly toward the steaming cauldron of her sexuality. I paused for a second at her belly button, inserting my tongue into this tight, shallow little orifice, licking its rim in a way that was meant to foreshadow what was to follow. Elizabeth seemed to enjoy the way I was teasing her body because she was writhing madly on the blanket grinding her hips and thighs to the sexual rhythm that was pounding away in her brain.
"My pussy," she said. "Go get my pussy."
"You little bitch," I laughed, as I gave her belly button one last, hard lick, and then continued my descent toward the sluice between her thighs. It didn't take more than a minute and I was suddenly there, my lips crossing her mound of Venus, pushing past the light sprinkle of pubic fur that grew underneath, finally reaching the honey pot nestled between her legs.
"O-o-o-o-oh...." she sighed in a voice that was the quintessence of surrender. "That feels real nice, Uncle Simon. Real, real nice."
I pressed my flaring nostrils right up against the fragrance of the moist orifice, breathing deeply and filling my lungs with her sexual vapors. My eyes suddenly bulged in my head, as though they were about to pop out and I began to tremble with overwhelming desire. Never in my entire life had I inhaled a more delightful fragrance. It had a sour, musky flavor and at the very same time it was as sweet as the sweetest honey.
"Go on, Uncle Simon," Elizabeth purred like a little kitten. "Go on and kiss my wet pussy."
And kiss it I did, without much further ado. I pressed my lips against her gushing hot cunt and caressed it with all my might, with all the softness and tenderness that I could muster. I let my tongue slide slowly across the labial lips, from the narrow opening at the tip of her urethra, all the way around to the snowy banks of her pudendum. In between I was able to lick the sweetest, tastiest piece of pussy that any man has had the pleasure of enjoying.
"Put it into me," Elizabeth suddenly begged. "Please, put your tongue into my love hole. I want to feel you sliding up and down inside me, inside my pussy. Oh, please Uncle Simon, please let me feel your tongue licking up my cunt."
She was begging for it. God, it was almost unbelievable to hear how passionately she was pleading with me. Well I'm not one to let a little girl down, especially if that little girl happens to be my favorite niece. And let me tell you, Elizabeth was quickly becoming my favorite.
I pressed my lips up against the nest of her creamy cunt and I kissed it with all the love and tenderness that I could muster. Elizabeth seemed to enjoy it because before I knew what was happening, she had twirled her legs around my neck, squeezing her thighs up against my face. Her ass rose up off the blanket and she pushed her pussy right up against my mouth and nose so that I could hardly breathe.
"Eat it," she said. "Eat pussy pie."
The little bitch was really flying by now, grinding her hips, shaking her ass, squeezing her legs tighter and tighter around my neck. I inhaled once again, and the raw smell of her feminine sexuality was so intense that I nearly began to swoon. It was like the vapors of some heady wine, sharp, sweet and intoxicating.
"Eat it, baby doll," she begged. "Eat Lizzie's sweet pussy."
My mouth had begun to salivate, as it would before a particularly exciting meal. Only to call Elizabeth's cunt exciting would be the understatement of the year. It was more than just exciting, more than just luscious, more than just tantalizing. It was like some sacred treasure for which no value exists. It was a priceless object, a thing of such incredible beauty that evelything else must pale by comparison.
"Oh, you little bitch," I muttered, my hands sliding down underneath her firm little buttocks. As I squeezed that warm little ass of hers, I ran my tongue all over her cunt I licked the lips first, drying them off and then marveling when they were wet and juicy again. Then, after a moment, I pried the drape-like folds of her plump labia open and in my tongue slid, like a thief in the night.
"O-o-o-ooh," she moaned. "I can feel it inside of me. I can feel your tongue inside of my cunt. It's driving me crazy the way you're frigging me with it. I can hardly stand it the way you're fucking me with it, the way you're pushing it in and out. Oh baby, give it to me...."
And then her voice petered out, as though she was out of energy. Her legs were tight though, squeezing my neck with all their might, and the mouth of her cunt was like a swirling whirlpool of flaming passion. It sucked my tongue inside, and chewed it up deliciously. You could tell that she had strong vaginal muscles and that she knew how to use them. I almost had to fight to extract my tongue from the hole, so strong was she.
"My clitty," she begged. "Eat my clitty, bite it with your teeth, baby doll."
No sooner did I hear the words that the deed was done. Whatever Lizzie wanted, Lizzie could get from me. The little bitch. You'd hardly think that she knew so much about sex just by looking at her. You'd hardly think that she had such an enormous and such a refined sexual appetite. I suppose it goes to show you how deceiving a person's appearance can be.
I mean, Elizabeth was the girl next door, pretty, sweet and innocent looking. Of course she dressed in provocative clothes, just like the girl next door that you probably have your eye on. Of course she had a seductive manner just like that little teen-age nymphet that you have the yen for. Of course she had a teasing manner, a tempting smile, an alluring walk. And yet, who could have believed that she was so well versed in the ways of sexual pleasure. That little girl next door that you have your eye on is probably just like my niece Elizabeth. All you've got to do is make that first move, press the right button and you'll have her eating out of your hand ... or should I say, out of your pants.
Just now, however, it was I who was eating out of her pants, it was my mouth that was nuzzled up against her puss, and my tongue that was playing with her sexual genitalia. I hunted out her clitoris, grabbed it with my lips and sucked it into my mouth. It was a fat little organ, slippery smooth and throbbing with intense pleasure as I rubbed my tongue across its nerve-studded surface. Elizabeth quivered as I did this, her ass jumping high in the air, her thighs opening and closing to imitate the movements of intercourse.
"Bite it harder," she begged. "Please, Uncle Simon, bite on my clitty harder."
Which is exactly what I proceeded to do. Not that I wanted to bite down on it too hard. I certainly didn't want to hurt her in any way. But it was a question of getting just the right amount of pressure, just the right amount of friction.
I slid the clitoris between my sharp white teeth; I chewed on it with my lips; I sucked on it with my tongue. Elizabeth was practically climbing the wall with wild pleasure, practically going out of her mind with desire. Now was the time to give it to the girl with my cock.
Now was the perfect time to fuck her, and fuck her good.
I gave her pussy one last, loving kiss and then I pulled her legs apart and got ready to climb on top of her. Elizabeth, however, rolled to the side, her head resting on her arm. What the hell was this all about? Was she playing some sort of game with me? I was sure that she wanted to be fucked. I was sure that all I had to do would be to climb on top of her and leave the rest to nature. Obviously, it wasn't going to be easy.
"What's the matter?" I asked.
She looked at me dreamily. "Oh nothing."
"Something has got to be the matter. Do you want me to eat you a little more."
"No, it's not that."
"Then what?" I was puzzled. Up until this point, I had followed the textbook, broken none of the rules. I had engaged in enough foreplay for a dozen women. I had kissed her all over, had eaten her pussy, had frigged her, had given her my cock to hold and touch and squeeze. So what could be the matter?
"Come on," I whispered, my hand on her perfectly round little bottom. "Tell me what's the matter. I'm your uncle, after all. I want to help you."
"Can I be honest with you?" she asked, suddenly very much ashamed.
"Yes, of course," I replied.
"You won't think me a deviate, if I tell you what I want you to do. You won't think that I'm oversexed or anything like that."
"Darling," I whispered, patting her ass again. "Of course I won't think any such thing. You ought to know me better than that." I paused for a moment. What could it possibly be that she wanted me to do to her? How terrible could it possibly be? I don't know why, but I was suddenly trembling with wild, feverish desire. "Come on, Elizabeth, tell your uncle what's on your mind."
"Okay," she replied. "But you better not call me any names or think badly of me or I'll hate you."
"Don't worry," I said reassuringly.
"Well," Elizabeth whispered in a soft, sweet voice. "I've been a bad little girl, haven't I? I've let my Uncle play with my pussy which is a bad thing for a young girl to do?" She looked up at me. "Isn't that a bad thing for me to have done?"
It was a game she was playing. Fine, I'm all for games. I looked into her greenish eyes and nodded.
"Yes," I said. "Elizabeth has been a bad little girl."
"Then Elizabeth deserves to be punished, doesn't she?"
"Yes," I said again. "But how shall we punish her?"
"She should get a spanking," Elizabeth whispered. "When a girl is naughty, she's got to be spanked. I remember once, when I was twelve years old, my mommy came into my room one night and she caught me doing something very bad. She told my daddy about it and he came up and he spanked me."
This was getting nice and hot So her daddy used to spank her.
"Tell me," I asked. "What was it that your mommy caught you doing when you were twelve years old? What was it that made you get a spanking?"
"Well," she said. "I was a very naughty little girl. I remember it all very well. It was a snowy Christmas evening and I was all alone in my room waiting for Santa Claus to come and bring me a present. I was a sweet little girl, with little blond pigtails and a yummy little body. Everyone said that I was cute as a button. My boobs were small, just half a handful, and I was just beginning to get my shape."
"I see, so you were all alone in your room."
"Yes, I was all alone," Elizabeth said wistfully. "Anyway, at the time I was in the seventh grade and you know how young girls are. All that we used to do was talk about sex. At least that's all that Susie Morgan and I used to talk about. We even used to steal books from the library and read about things that we were much too young to know." Elizabeth paused for a second, inhaling deeply and stretching out like a little sea nymph underneath a perfectly blue and clear sky. "One of the things that we read about was ... well, it was masturbation. There was a long article about how girls masturbate in a book that Susie stole from her father's library. It said that some girls stick cucumbers into their vaginas. Other girls use soda bottles, and still other girls do it with their own hands. Just reading about it turned me on. I remember thinking to myself that I would have to try it because it sounded like fun."
"I see."
"Well," Elizabeth continued. "About a week had passed since I bad read that article and I still hadn't tried it out."
"And now it was Christmas eve."
"Yes, it was Christmas eve and I was all alone in the house. My mom and dad had gone to a party next door and they had left me all alone in the house. I watched some television, called up Susie and spoke to her over the phone and about ten thirty I went up to my room and undressed and slid into bed. It was a very chilly evening and I was wearing a flannel nightdress and a pair of cotton bloomers underneath."
"And you were all by yourself."
"Yes, all alone." Elizabeth nodded. "I was feeling very, very sad. That's when I suddenly remembered that article about masturbation. I remembered how it had said that girls can get happy if they do it to themselves that way, if they masturbate themselves."
"So that's what you did?"
"Yes," Elizabeth nodded. "First I closed my eyes and tried not to think about it. I mean, I realized that it was not a nice thing for a decent girl to do with herself. But the harder I tried to fall asleep, the more awake I became. And without even realizing what was happening, I let my hands climb underneath my nightdress. I told myself that I would only touch it for a moment, that I would only rub my sweet little pussy for a second. Just enough so that I could fall asleep."
"Very interesting."
"Oh, it was terrible," Elizabeth moaned. "As soon as I put my hands on the crotch of my panties, I began to burn as though someone had started a fire in my snatch, as though some evil magician had cast a terrible spell over me."
"So what happened?"
"Well, I rolled my nightdress up over my tummy, and I grabbed hold of the elastic waistband of my pink bloomers and tugged them gently off my tummy, over my rump and down past my skinny little legs."
"So you were naked."
"Yes, I was naked from the waist down, my little pussy feeling the first stirrings of feminine passions. I mean, I had had feelings of excitement before, but I had never really understood what they were. Now, however, it was much different Now I knew that it all was centered around my sacred little pussy and that if I wanted to relieve myself, if I wanted to silence the aching passions that I was now feeling deep in the pit of my cunt there were certain dirty, forbidden practices that I could indulge in. I was a bit ashamed at first. After all this was the first time for me."
"So you were reluctant to start."
"Yes, quite reluctant," Elizabeth admitted. "But the itch between my legs was too strong for me. It was tearing away at my insides."
"So you masturbated?" I asked.
"Yes," Elizabeth nodded. "Masturbation was the only way out for me at that time. Now, when I get horny, I try to find myself a big cock. Then I was only twelve years old and I would have been too ashamed to approach someone."
"Did you use a cucumber?"
"It crossed my mind," Elizabeth explained. "I mean, that article that I had read about masturbation had mentioned the cucumber and the soda bottle among other things. But after much thought, I decided that it would be much too messy and I wasn't sure that it would be any better than my plain old hand."
"So you diddled with your fingers?"
"Yes, with my fingers," Elizabeth whispered. Suddenly her eyes went blank, as though she had fallen into a trance, as though she was reliving once again the experiences of that snowy Christmas evening. I still had my hand on her ass and as she spoke, I buried several of the fingers in the mushy soft warmth of the deep, fragrant crack. From time to time, my hand dipped into the sluice of her cunt, played with the enflamed pubic orifice in a gentle and amorous manner. Meanwhile Elizabeth continued to relate to me the story of her sexual initiation.
"Well, as I was saying," she whispered. "I was all alone in the house and so there was no hurry as far as I was concerned. I intended to derive the maximum sexual benefit from the mastubatory act"
"So what did you do first?"
"First I got nice and comfortable," she explained. "First I took the pillow that my head was lying on top of and I placed it under my rump, thus arching my back and making my pussy easier to reach. Then I took my bloomers and pulled them up to my nose and sniffed them." Elizabeth paused for a second. "I don't know why I did that. Maybe I do know why. The smell of pussy always turned me on. Even when I was a very young girl, I used to take my bloomers and sniff them. It was a pleasant aroma, a sweet, delicious thing to inhale."
"So you like the smell of pussy."
"At least I like the smell of my own pussy," Elizabeth whispered softly. "Actually, I've always wondered what it would be to smell another woman's love hole. I'll bet that it would be real nice."
"Oh??"
"Yes," Elizabeth whispered. "Take Aunt Catherine, for instance. I'll bet that her pussy is nice and tasty, nice and smelly. I'll bet that you eat it all the time, Uncle Simon. Isn't it true?"
"Well??"
"Be honest about it. Don't you just love sucking on Aunt Catherine's smelly pussy?"
"I indulge now and then," I admitted. "But let's not stray from the topic of conversation. You were telling me about your first autoerotic experience. Why don't you get on with it?"
"Okay," Elizabeth nodded. There was a strange glow in her eyes, as though the thought of making it with my wife Catherine had suddenly entered her mind. I mean, girls like Elizabeth are very strange and exotic creatures. Sex for them knows no boundaries, no limitations. They seek pleasure wherever they can find it These thoughts crossed my mind only for a brief moment, and I was to recall them several weeks later when they were confirmed. But I'm getting ahead of myself and ahead of the story about my naughty niece Elizabeth.
"Okay," she said again. "So I took my undergarments and began smelling them, closing my eyes and filling my nostrils with their sweet sexual aroma. God, I nearly went out of my mind with excitement,"
"So what did you do next?"
"Next," Elizabeth said. "Next, I did what any red-blooded American girl would do. My hands, which were just a bit damp with excitement, began to slither like a snake all along my body. I hiked the nightdress that I was wearing all the way up to my neck, and my fingers started massaging my tiny little breasts. As I've already told you, they were small and young, just two tiny Utile hillocks on my chest. But the nipples were big, almost as big as they are now, strawberry colored and very, very sensitive. God, when I touched them, I started to go crazy with excitement, with wild pleasure."
"Did they get hard?"
"Hard as cherries," Elizabeth admitted. "They popped up and felt as though they were ready to burst I caressed them tenderly at first and after a while I started to paw them roughly, to tear at them with my hand, to squeeze them with my thumb and forefinger. I closed my eyes and pretended that there was a man in the room with me. I pretended...." She paused for a second, as though she was afraid to go on.
"What???" I asked. "What was the fantasy that you made up when you were playing with yourself."
"You promise not to laugh at me."
"Of course I promise."
"Well," Elizabeth confided. "I pretended that it was my father in the room with me, in bed next to me. I pretended that it was his hands that were playing with my breasts, that it was his mouth kissing my lips, that it was his body lying on the mattress next to me. I guess I was always a little tramp, always a dirty little bitch. I can't help it, though. Some girls are born to fuck, born to enjoy sex, born with perverse sexual inclinations. That's me ... a dirty little harlot"
"Don't say that."
"It's the truth. That's what I am. There I was, just twelve and I was already thinking of my father, thinking of making it with him, thinking of what it would feel like to have his big cock driving me crazy."
"Most people have incestuous thoughts," I whispered. "Little boys always dream about fucking their mothers and I suppose that little girls dream about their fathers It's a very natural phenomenon. Certainly it's nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to feel dirty about"
"Perhaps," Elizabeth conceded. "So there I was on the bed, dunking of him, squeezing my hard little titties, working myself up into a frenzy."
"What did you do next?"
"I let my hands wander freely along the soft young flesh of my hot little body. I massaged my stomach, my belly, my belly button. I rubbed my sides, my legs, my calves and thighs ... everything. It was as though I was discovering my body for the first time in my life. It was as though I was finally learning about the pleasure that such lovely caresses had to offer."
"And your cunt?"
"My cunt was bubbling over." Elizabeth whispered. "I was afraid to touch it at first, so sensitive had it become, so raw and excited did it feel." I'll bet that your clitty was banging away."
To be quite honest, I didn't even know what the thing was. I had no idea of its importance in the sexual act I only knew that it was throbbing like a drum. Finally, after several moments of deliberation, I let my right hand slip across my mound of Venus, over the hairless flesh of my love hole, toward the flaming red sluice. The first thing that I grabbed hold of was my little clitty. It was a slippery little bitch, covered with warm, wet juices. In fact that whole area was covered with gooey syrup and even the pillow that I had my ass propped up on was dark and sopping with the vaginal liquid."
"So you rubbed it?" I asked curiously.
"Yes," Elizabeth nodded. "That's exactly what I did. I rubbed that little clitty like there was no tomorrow, squeezing it deliciously, massaging it vigorously, applying an exhilarating friction to its nerve-studded surface. That's why the clit is so sensitive, you know," Elizabeth explained. "Ifs got lots of nerves in it Ifs loaded through and through with nerves."
"What did you do next?" I asked. I don't mind saying that the more she continued to talk the more turned on I was becoming. My cock was bursting with excited passion. My balls were quivering. I still had my hand in the crack of her ass and I was feeling it up, squeezing it in a delightful manner. After several moments, I hunted out the pinkish rose of her anus. It was a tight little orifice, and slightly moist from the juices of her pussy that had run over. I took my thumb and drilled it into her, listening all the while as she continued the story of her Christmas eve adventure.
"After several moments with my clitty," Elizabeth explained, "I was ready for bigger and better things. I reached for the labial lips and pulled them open the way you pull open a door. Then with two slim fingers I took the dip into the pickle barrel. I still had my hymen at the time and it was a little painful when I fingered myself. But it was painful in a pleasant sort of way. I mean, it made my entire body come alive with pleasure, with lust and passion. After several moments longer I was back at the clitoris once again and soon I was doubling up, one hand fingering the honey pot and the other one diddling with the clitty. God, it was just heaven, the best that it has ever been for me. Not that I don't get orgasms now, but they have become such a predictable thing. At the time, however, I was experiencing sex for the very first time, I was learning what it was like to be a full-blooded, sexual being. It was like an adventure, like a glorious, delightful adventure."
"So what happened?"
"So I kept it up for nearly an hour. I would make myself come, and after resting up for several minutes, I would start the process over again, work myself up to a feverish pitch and have the thrill of orgasm wash me clean yet another time. It was beautiful-No," Elizabeth whispered. "The word "beautiful" is terribly inadequate. It can hardly serve to describe the ecstasy of that very first orgasm that a woman experiences, of that series of first orgasms that I had that evening, all alone in my room."
"So is that it?" I asked. Elizabeth had started by asking me to spank her and by explaining why a good spanking turned her on. At least that's what I had thought she was going to tell me about. But so far, she had made no mention of the fetish. Had she forgotten? Well, it turned out that she hadn't and that this story about her first mastubatory experience was but a prelude to the real point of her sexual tale.
"Well," Elizabeth continued. "As I told you in the beginning, my parents were out for the evening and I didn't expect them back till much later. Boy was I wrong. It turned out that they had come back so that they could hide my present underneath the Christmas tree. They intended to return to the party next door after waking me and showing me what Santa had brought me."
"Usually that's done in the morning."
"Yes, I know." Elizabeth nodded. "But they had gotten a little puppy for me, something that I had been wanting for years and I suppose that they didn't want to wait till morning."
"So what happened?"
"Well, my mother came up to my room. She didn't bother to knock at the door, afraid that I might get frightened if I suddenly heard a loud noise."
"So she opened it up without warning."
"That's exactly what happened. Mom turned the door handle, and then slowly walked inside of my room. I must admit that she took me completely by surprise and for several moments, I didn't even realize that she was there watching me. That just goes to show you how wrapped up I had become in my mastubatory fantasy."
"She watched you?" I asked, suddenly trying to visualize my sister Charlotte watching her own daughter in bed. Just the thought of it nearly made me come right then and there.
"How long did she keep watching you?"
"For several moments," Elizabeth explained. "Then she walked over to me, grabbed hold of my wrist and pulled my hand away from the juicy hole of my cunt. I remember one thing rather vividly. I remember that Mom reached down with her own trembling hand and she touched me there."
"Where?" I asked.
"Where else?" Elizabeth replied. "She touched me right on the crack, right on the lips of my steamy pussy. She sort of brushed her middle finger along the gash, dipping it inside for less than a second. Then I remember the way my mom took that finger, covered with goo, and placed it right up against her nostrils and inhaled deeply."
"Incredible," I said. "It sounds like you must have turned her on."
"Yes, that's what I thought too at the time," Elizabeth explained. "In fact, I had the terrifying feeling that she wanted to make love to me. I mean, several long, silent moments passed by in which neither of us said anything, our eyes locked on one another. The room, my bedroom, was filled with the smell of my pussy. I mean, it was really fragrant with the stuff. My sheets were damp with the hot juices. Sex was literally in the air. I remember that look in my mother's eyes. It was half filled with anger, half filled with raw, seething desire."
"Are you sure?"
"A woman can tell such things and even at the time, being no more than twelve years old, I could sense that she had the yen for me, that the sight of my naked, hairless little pussy had turned her on."
"Did she make an advance towards you?"
"No," Elizabeth replied. "Before the matter could get out of hand, my father s voice could be heard calling her from downstairs.
"'Charlotte, Charlotte' he called.
"'Coming dear,' Mom replied, and after brushing her finger against my pussy one more time, very lightly and very quickly, she quickly rose off the mattress that she was sitting on and ran out of the room as though the bats of hell were chasing her."
"And what about you?" I asked. "Were you in any way afraid?"
"Well," Elizabeth explained. "It wasn't that I was afraid. I mean, my parents had never been particularly cruel to me. In fact, they never so much as raised a hand to me in the twelve years that I had known them."
"Oh."
"You see," Elizabeth whispered. "We always used to talk things out whenever we had any differences. So I wasn't afraid of them. It's just that I was feeling terribly ashamed of myself. I mean, to be caught like that, with my hand on my snatch, with my little rump propped up on top of the pillow. I felt just terrible."
"So what happened?"
"Well, as I already said, my father, who was downstairs with the little white puppy that they had brought me for my Christmas present, called to my mother who in turn got up and left the room." Elizabeth closed her eyes. Her mouth went slack. I had my hand on her cunt at the time and I could feel the muscles tighten, the lips quiver, the large, juicy opening tingle with nervous anticipation. It was almost as though she was reliving that event, as though it was happening to her once again.
"So I waited," Elizabeth whispered. "I didn't even bother to get dressed again, or to cover myself with the blanket I just lay there, my little tush propped up on the pillow, my legs spread wide open, my juicy little pussy boiling hot A minute passed and then another and then another. I thought that the danger had passed. I thought that it was all over, that I would not be punished for what I had been doing, for that dirty little act that my mother had caught me in middle of."
"So what happened?"
"Well," Elizabeth panted. "Just when I thought that the danger had passed, the door opened yet a second time. It creaked open real slow and for a second I couldn't see who it was."
"And who was it?"
"It was the two of them. My mom and my dad. They were both there, this time, both looking at me the way you would at a very naughty child."
"Did they say anything?"
"Yes, my mother did all the talking. I remember very clearly how nervous she sounded, how terribly excited her voice appeared. She was trembling. I swear, she was actually trembling, shaking and shivering like a leaf."
"I see."
"She started to speak after hesitating for several moments.
"There she is,' my mother said to my father whose mouth was hanging open. "There's your precious little daughter. You didn't want to believe me when I told you. You didn't want to believe me when I said that she was nothing but a dirty little whore. Well, have a look for yourself. She's got that pussy of hers all steamy and hot. I'll bet that she's been dreaming about a big fat cock. I'll bet that if she had the chance, she would just love to feel a fat, juicy dick sliding in and out of that steaming love hole."
"Don't talk about her like that,' my father whispered.
"'Why not?' Mom said. It's the truth, isn't it Our daughter is a filthy little tramp, a slut."
"'Oh, be quiet'
"Won't you like to hear the truth?' my mother asked. 'You've been spoiling her something terrible, giving her whatever she wants. Now is the time to teach her a little discipline."
"'What do you propose that I do?" my father asked.
"Well the bitch deserves to be beaten, to be spanked. You know what they say, spare the rod and spoil the child. She's been spoiled long enough. It's about time that we showed her that she can't get away with whatever she wants to do. She's got to be taught some respect some morals."
"I could see that my father was caught in a bind. He didn't really want to beat me, and yet he realized that I had done something wrong and that I deserved to be punished. Ordinarily, I suppose, he would have talked the matter over with me. Ordinarily, he might have taken me down to the kitchen and discussed this thing with me. But my mother staring him in the eye, with my mother demanding that I be disciplined, he started to waver. Finally, after several moments had passed, he walked over to the bed, took my arm and squeezed it very tightly.
""Lizzie,' he said. He always used to call me Lizzie. 'My sweet little daughter, what your mom says is right You've been quite naughty and you have got to be punished for it. A young girl is not supposed to diddle with herself. A young girl is not supposed to poke around down there. It leads to other things. The next thing you'll be wanting to do is getting into the backseat with some young stud. It's not right not for a decent girl at least'
"'So what are you going to do to me?' I asked.
"Tin going to have to spank you. Your mother is right A beating is what you need to drive a little sense into your head. You've got to learn that playing around with your pussy is not nice and that you mustn't ever do it again. I believe that a little spanking will teach you this lesson."
"Those were his very words," Elizabeth said. "I remember them as clearly as though he had spoken them just yesterday. My mom, who was standing in the shadows in the corner, had a smile of satisfaction on her face. But there was something more than satisfaction. It was a wild, excited sort of feeling that I could see in her eyes. She would enjoy watching Dad spank me. It would turn her on, I was sure. As it turned out, it did. It most certainly did."
"So what happened?"
"Well, as I've already told you, I was completely naked, my nightdress up over my head by now and lying on the floor. Dad walked over to me, sat down on the bed and then lifted me up by my naked waist and turned me over his knee."
"Then what?"
"Well, you can imagine how he must have felt. I mean, he was just an ordinary human being with ordinary human feelings. I suppose that I must have turned him on because I could feel his cock stiffen in his pants."
"You could actually feel it?" I asked.
"Yes," Elizabeth nodded. "I mean, I was over his knees, my stomach right up against his crotch. Believe me when I tell you that he had an erection. It was big and hard and I'll have to admit that it was quite thrillling, quite exciting."
"So what happened?"
"Well, he administered the beating, slapping my bare bottom with his open palm. He didn't hit me hard, but very, very softly."
"So it didn't hurt?"
"No, not at all," Elizabeth explained. "In fact, I felt quite good, quite nice inside every time he brought his hand down against my bare ass. I began to tingle all over, to shiver with pure sexual pleasure."
"How long did he beat you?"
"For about five minutes," Elizabeth said. "He didn't even realize it, but in those five minutes I think that I must have climaxed about three times. It was all so terribly thrilling, so terribly exciting. Meanwhile, my mother was in the corner all by herself, where she thought that we couldn't see her. I watched her though I was looking at her through the comer of my eye."
"What did you see?"
"She was wearing a pair of red slacks, very tight slacks. They were pressed up right up against her cunt and you could see the neat little folds. Well, as my father went on with the spanking, my mother's hand slipped down between her thighs. At first she pretended that she just wanted to scratch herself, that she was just trying to relieve an itch. But I knew better. I knew the sort of itch that she was trying to relieve. It was that itch in her pussy, that itch that every woman in the entire world has felt at one time or another in her life. Mom took her long, beautiful hand and she started to stroke herself between her thighs. At first she moved slowly, and then as my father proceeded to spank me with more and more vigor, she proceeded to stroke that cunt of hers with more and more ardor till she worked herself up into a sort of frenzy."
"Did she climax?"
"No, not there. But she was getting close, because she finally called to my father and told him to let me go. She ran over to him, grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the bed.
"'Come, darling,' she whispered. "Let's get out of here. She's had enough for one night.'"
"Is that how it ended?" I asked.
"Yes, pretty much," Elizabeth explained. "Their bed room was right across the hall and they headed straight for it. I watched them through the keyhole."
"You watched them do what?"
"Well, you know," Elizabeth whispered. "That spanking I had gotten, had only served to whet my appetite. When I saw my father being dragged to the master bedroom by my mother, I had a pretty good idea what they were planning to do. So, being a very curious child, I decided to have a look at how it's done, how people fuck, by watching the two of them."
"Weren't you afraid that you would be caught?"
"No, not at all. Perhaps I should have been, but you know how these things are. Sex is something that transcends the rational. You understand, don't you?"
"I suppose," I replied.
To be perfectly honest, I was becoming a bit weary of all this talk. I was in the mood for a little old fashioned fucking. And besides, it was starting to get late. If we didn't get down to it pretty soon, we never would. I told Elizabeth that while I was quite interested in the details of her sexual past, what interested me even more was the amorous present
"Let's not talk about your father and mother anymore," I whispered.
"Of course," she said. "As you wish, Uncle Simon. But I won't let you fuck me until you give me a spanking. I think that I would enjoy it very much. It has been a long, long time since that last one."
"So you wanted to be spanked."
"Yes, my dear," she whispered, reverting for a second to baby talk. I'm a naughty little girl just like my mother said. I'm nothing but a little tramp and I need to be taught some morals, some discipline."
"Yes ... discipline," I blurted out. "Over my knee, you terrible brat Get over my knee before I slap your face for you."
Elizabeth was quite compliant, getting up off the blanket that she had been lying on. She bent over my knee, her tail practically staring me in the face. I don't know what it must have looked like when she was twelve years old, but right now it was the juiciest thing that my eyes had ever had the pleasure of seeing. Some description might help the unimaginative reader visualize just what I'm talking about though it might be just as helpful to walk outside for a moment and have a glance at that pack of teenage beauties that regularly hangs around on the stoop or on the porch next door. Look at that lovely little blonde beauty, the one in those tight blue jeans. Try to imagine that ass of hers all naked and white and shivering with excitement Get the picture?
Elizabeth had an ass that was round as two half moons, bouncy but not fat Like a ripe fruit that's just begging to be devoured, it made my mouth water in anticipation. The skin was as white as alabaster, blushing just a bit right at the center. The crack was a dark, fragrant valley, a forbidden valley where carnal desires find their fulfillment. That ass of hers was a heavenly thing, a thing of beauty, the stuff that wet dreams are made of.
Could I slap it? Did I have the power to strike what I loved so dearly? I bit my lips for a second, sucked in a breath full of air and raised my right hand. Slowly I brought it down on the juicy ass flesh. The sound of the slap filled the air like a thunderclap. Elizabeth yelped loudly as the reddish outline of my palm formed on the globes of her bottom. Should I hit her again? I wasn't sure at first. I mean, I didn't feel right spanking her. But she began to wiggle in a playful sort of way, her belly rubbing against the shaft of my throbbing prick. Her thighs spread open so that I could see the slimy little pit in the center. It was wet, juicy, creamy with the syrup of sexual excitement She let me look at that moist love hole for a second and then the legs closed again and I could see it no longer.
"You want to get inside of me, don't you?" she suddenly asked like a playful little bunny.
"Yes, you know I do."
"You want to fuck me more than anything in the whole world, don't you Uncle Simon?"
"Of course I do," I replied.
"Then you'd better do this my way. A beating is what I want and a beating is what I'd better get. Beat my little tush till it's red and raw. Afterwards I'll open these legs for you again and let you put that big, bard cock into the pickle barrel"
"Okay, you little bitch," I whispered, somewhat infuriated by the tone of her voice, by her haughty manner. So she wanted a beating? Well, she would get one that would keep her off her ass for a week. Without so much as a warning, my hand fell with renewed vigor, with renewed fury on the naked flesh of her voluptuous but tocks. I hit her again and again, harder and harder, till I had practically worked myself up into a sweat.
Elizabeth squealed like a little pig, her face contorted in a strange way. Her body shook and shivered, her legs thrusting in the air, her hips grinding madly with each blow. Suddenly I remembered the story that she had told me. She had come three times while her father had beaten her. Would my hands produce similar results? Well, it didn't take very long to learn the answer.
I had been going at it for nearly five minutes when her entire body suddenly went limp for a second, as though the life had been drained from it. Her lips were beginning to quiver in a strangely sensual manner. Her breathing became thick and heavy and without warning she exploded like a raging inferno.
"O-o-o-o-o-ohhhhhh," she squealed. "Oh god, this is nice, Uncle Simon."
Her ass contracted, her legs and arms tightened, her spine became rigid, like a bow just before it's going to be fired. I remember the smile that emanated from between those fat, womanly thighs of hers. It was a musky aroma, a salty, sexy aroma that made me blind with desire. How long could I control my emotions? How long could I restrain that cock of mine? How could I keep it away from that boiling kettle of excitement that it was so eager to plunge inside of? You can imagine how difficult it had been till now. But with Elizabeth wiggling around on top of me, with her belly and her breasts and the upper lips of her cunt rubbing themselves against my lap, it was becoming nearly impossible not to do anything.
Well, as I've already said, Elizabeth tensed up for a second and then like a volcano that suddenly erupts, she was all over the place, rolling, jumping, wiggling like a fish that's been pulled out of water. Before I could do anything, she had squirmed out of my lap, and was standing on top of me, her legs spread over mine, her love mound on the same level as my mouth. She pushed the lightly furred nook right up against my lips and made me give her several long, hard licks. It was like licking a dripping ice-cream cone, like licking a cream-covered cake. The juices of her wet snatch dribbled into my mouth like a strange, exotic nectar. I closed my eyes and knew that the moment was at hand for me, that the moment was at hand for the two of us. She thrust with her puss against my face again and again and then she finally sat herself down on top of my hard prick, her legs positioned perfectly, bending down at the knees first, wiggling a bit and then drawing back.
What a cunt!!! What a wild, wet piece of cunt!!! The hole was deep and yet very, very tight It latched onto the swollen knob of my cock like a pair of soft, rubbery pliers. It was as though that vaginal orifice had a mind and a life of its own, as though it knew just what it wanted and just how to go about getting it.
My hands went easily around Elizabeth's waist and I gripped it tightly as her legs spread open and latched themselves around my ribs. So this was it, the consummation of more than an hour of foreplay. We were going to fuck in the sitting position, she on top of me, her wet cunt plunging down on the super-firm shaft of my bulging prick.
The insides were like velvet, like warm, liquefied velvet. It was more than enough to accommodate the full length of my monstrously swollen tool, from the reddish tip to the bursting hilt.
"You're fucking me," Elizabeth whispered. "You're fucking my cunt and it feels glorious."
She pressed her bubbies up against my chest as she gyrated up and down on the long pole. All the while her mouth was kissing my neck, my lips, my face. Her tongue was lashing out against my flesh, her nails, long and sharp, were digging deeply into my back. I scooped my palms under her still reddish ass and I squeezed those plump, fleshy cheeks.
"Oh Simon," the girl whispered again. "You feel so good inside of me. You feel better than any man that I've ever fucked." She paused for a second to gasp for air, her slippery snatch gliding up and down the pole, the velvety teeth and the juicy lips biting and sucking and chewing on my mammoth organ. "Simon, it feels like heaven when you fuck me like that It feels just like heaven, my sweet, lovely darling."
So I was getting to her. That made me feel good. And the irony of it was that I didn't have to do anything. With some women, you've got to pump like a motherfucker. They just He there and expect you to do all the work. Well, with Elizabeth it was different. The spanking must have acted like a catalyst on her. The spanking must have brought her feminine emotions to a feverish pitch and now all I had to do was sit back, hold her tight and let her do the rest.
God, she was fucking me in the best sense of the word. Her boobs were rubbing all over me. Once she lifted them up to my mouth, disgorging my prick momentarily from the embrace of her snatch, and made me loss them tenderly. She pushed those big, pink nipples between my teeth and made me bite and suck on them till she was nearly dizzy with maddening passion. A second later she resumed the coital position, her pussy zeroing in again on my fat dick, slipping down on top of it, squeezing it deliriously, applying an exhilarating friction to its raw, red surface. It wouldn't be long now. Just a few more minutes and I would come. I could feel the first stirrings of an orgasm deep in the pit of my stomach. I closed my eyes, and wishing to prolong the moment, wishing to make it last as long as possible, I started to think about baseball.
It's funny that I should have been thinking of sports at such a moment, and yet, I've always found that this helps calm me down, helps postpone the final, inevitable release of semen. Los Angeles was the team that I was rooting for and they were in Pittsburgh for a crucial series. Would they win? It depended on the pitching. It had to hold up. It just had to.
Suddenly the sound of Elizabeth's wild, feverish panting brought me back to the reality of the moment. Her face was drenched with perspiration. Her hair was knotted and moist, hanging beautifully around her long, white neck. Her green eyes glistened in the late afternoon sunshine. Her mouth was a little pink dab on her face, round and sensual and filled with excitement. For a second I thought of her mouth as another cunt, another sweet, delicious love hole.
"Oh god," Elizabeth cried out. "I'm coming ... I'm going to come."
I was also on the way and the first squirts of seminal fluid had already spilled into her womanly womb. I closed my eyes and tense my legs. The thrill of holding it back was delicious. Elizabeth was already there, shaking all over the place, wiggling her hips in a suggestive manner, bouncing her ass up and down the blanket that we were sitting on.
In between the violent waves of pleasure that racked her lovely young body, she gasped and squealed in the most delightful manner that I have ever heard. It was like music to my ears, like the sweetest, most enticing music that I had ever heard.
"O-o-o-o-h. ... Aughhhhhhhhhhh," she cried, shaking her head and flailing her arms madly in the air. "This is lovely, my darling. This is lovely."
"I'm about to come too," I whispered into her ear. "Do you mind if I shoot it off inside of your cunt?"
"No, not there," she whispered. "Do it in my mouth, Uncle Simon. This way I'll be able to taste your come. This way I'll be able to drink it, to swallow it"
She suddenly hoisted herself off my lance and grabbed hold of my big, fat prick with both of her hands. It was covered from top to bottom with a veneer of shiny pussy come, fragrant with that wondrous, dizzying aroma. Elizabeth's mouth opened up like a fish, and she suddenly plunged down on the hot throbbing tool swallowing it up with her lips.
She gave my cock several long, loving licks, her tongue covering it with kisses, her teeth biting gently along the bursting, vein-covered surface. It was heaven, sheer heaven to be inside of her hot little mouth. She was eating my cock like a professional, applying just enough pleasure in all the right places.
"Nice little cock," she muttered with the thing still in her mouth. "Sweet, tasty little cock all covered with pussy juice. ... You're already starting to dribble, already starting to unload."
I had my hands on her head by now and I was pushing the hot tool deep into her throat as I felt the first paroxyms of sexual pleasure overwhelm me. My testicles were quivering madly. My body had broken into a cold sweat. My flesh was tingling wildly. My heart was racing like a motor. I closed my eyes and tried again to think about baseball, tried again to cool my overheated sex organ. But it was too late by now, too late to stop the impending explosion.
I sucked in a breathful of air, leaned over and sunk my greedy paws into Elizabeth's voluptuous ass. I held on tightly, thrusting with my hips, fucking her mouth with my dick. It started with a sudden contraction of the mammoth organ, as though it were being pulled into my body. And then, a second later, the first load of come filled Elizabeth's throat It was hot and white and very sticky and I could see that its flavor really turned the girl on.
"You're coming in my mouth," she whispered. And then she started to gyrate like a top, as though the thrill of my own orgasm had suddenly set her body on fire once again. While I was shooting my load down her warm, moist throat, her snatch came to life again, thrusting and grinding to a mad sexual rhythm.
"More...." she cried. "Give me more of your wonderful come. Give me more of your big white prick. It's the tastiest piece of meat I've had in a long, long tune."
It couldn't have lasted more than a couple of minutes for me. I mean, the male orgasm is not a very lengthy affair. Once you've ejaculated, that's it. And yet, it felt as though time had stood still and those brief moments seemed to stretch out into infinity. It was a thrilling experience knowing that she was drinking my come, that she was swallowing every creamy ounce, that her tongue was licking me clean, that her mouth was sucking me dry.
When it was finally over, Elizabeth leaned her head on my stomach and closed her eyes as though she was asleep. Her hands, however, were clutched to my organ, which by now was soft and rubbery. She petted the thing, a sweet, secure smile on her face.
Meanwhile I noticed that the sun was beginning to sink and the sky was getting dark. That's when I suddenly remembered Catherine. God, I hadn't even called to tell her that I was going to be late. What would she think? Would she suspect that Elizabeth and I were out in the country screwing ourselves silly?
"Come on," I whispered to Liz. "Let's get dressed."
"Sure sweetheart," she laughed, her face glowing with satisfaction. She got up, walked over to the car, picked up her rather flimsy hot pants and slipped into them. Then she found the halter top, pulled them over her plump little breasts, stepped into the sandals which she had removed earlier and for all purposes she was clothed. Her hair was a mess, her mouth was red, her neck was covered with love bites. Would Catherine suspect the truth when she saw us together? I shuddered at the thought. Maybe the best thing to do would be to leave Liz off a couple of blocks away from my house and have the two of us arrive separately. At least that way things wouldn't be so obvious.
"Did you enjoy yourself?" I asked.
"You were super," Elizabeth replied. "You really know how to fuck." She patted her backside for a moment. "You also give a mighty nice spanking."
I laced up my shoes, rolled up the blanket and put it in the trunk of my car and then paused for a second to look at the magnificent beauty of the surrounding countryside. It's funny, but I hadn't noticed it earlier on in the day. I suppose that my mind was much too busy for that sort of thing. But now, my cock drained of semen, my frame of mind had changed and I was in the mood for a more spiritual sort of pleasure.
"We're going to do this again, aren't we?" Elizabeth suddenly asked.
"When we get the chance," I replied.
"I can meet you after work anytime," the girl whispered. "You can tell Catherine that you're staying late in the office. We can go to a motel if you like. Or if you prefer, we can come out to the country again, providing the weather holds up."
"Yes, of course," I nodded. "Let's get into the car now and be on our way."
Several minutes later we were sitting side by side, her head on my shoulder as I pressed my foot down on the accelerator and sped back toward West Hartford. The windows were rolled down and a cool evening breeze filled the car's interior with fresh air. The radio was turned on to some soft music and I was feeling very good all over.
All things considered, it had been a very well-spent day.
CHAPTER FOUR
At first I had no intention whatsoever of continuing my affair with my niece Elizabeth. Not only was there a certain degree of guilt attached, but the logistics of the thing presented me with a great many problems and complications. I mean, my wife Catherine is no fool and staying out night after night would certainly have made her suspicious.
And yet, despite my reluctance, I found that I just couldn't keep my hands off Elizabeth's plump little body. At night, after Catherine had fallen asleep, I would sneak out of our bedroom and Liz and I would meet in the corridor, where our bodies would join in sexual ecstasy. On these occasions, she would be clad in a flimsy nightdress, nothing on underneath, and after checking to make sure that we were not being watched, I would lift this loose garment up over her belly, thrust my knees between her milky white thighs, and then thrust my shaft into the satiny sheath of her silky cunt It always felt good working it inside of her, pushing it up, reaming the cavity open, exploring its velvety interior. She had some magical power over me, this niece of mine, and regardless of my physical condition, regardless of whether or not I had previously had sex that evening with my wife Catherine, the sight of her lush, ripe body would always make me hard, always make me excited for yet another thrilling fuck.
Our rendezvous, however, were not merely confined to these secret nighttime meetings. At least three to four times a week she would wait for me in the parking lot behind my office and we'd drive out to the country or to some faraway motel where we would spend long, thrilling hours in each other's embrace. Her mouth was always hungry for cock. Her hands always eager to please. Her cunt and her ass always raised high and spread open for a good frigging.
You're probably wondering about my wife, Catherine. Did she suspect what was going on? Well, that's the strangest part of this whole matter. When I called from the office, she was always understanding.
"I'm not angry darling," she would say. "You've got a very important position and you've got to work late. It's only natural."
She never checked up on me, never caused a scene, never so much as mentioned my frequent absences from home. Not only that, but she also never seemed to connect the significance of the fact that Elizabeth had also started to come home quite late, usually five or ten minutes after me. This very docile attitude on her part, and a certain nervousness that I seemed to detect in her lately, caused me to become very suspicious. Something was going on. I was sure of that.
Why, it was not only my wife who suddenly started to appear quite distraught in my presence, but my son Brian as well. Generally Brian was a very cheerful, happy-go-lucky type of adolescent. Now, however, he was beginning to act quite morose, quite sad and depressed. The change was first noticed by me a few days after the lad's fifteenth birthday. There had been a party for him which I had been unable to attend as a result of my engagement with Elizabeth, but the next morning when I entered his room to hand him my present, the change in character was quite apparent. His eyes shifted away from mine, as though he was ashamed of something, his voice was low and quavering, his entire demeanor suggested that there was something terribly wrong.
At first I thought it was just one of those things, that the realization that he was fifteen, that he was no longer a child was the cause of it. He'd soon get over it, I was sure. Well, the days dragged into weeks and I saw no change. Whenever he was with me, he seemed somehow afraid of something.
Well, about three weeks had passed since his fifteenth birthday and Catherine and I were alone in the house. It was one of those rainy Saturday afternoons, just perfect for sitting back and reading a good book. Elizabeth, who had made friends with some of the girls in the neighborhood, was off somewhere having a good time. Brian was similarly occupied and so there was no one to disturb the tranquility of the afternoon.
I was seated in the living room, and Catherine was sitting opposite me fidgeting somewhat nervously with the newspaper. From time to time she looked up as though there was something on her mind, but then she turned back and pretended to be reading.
It was about two thirty that afternoon when she finally summoned up the courage to speak, and it was then that the whole sordid truth came out. Catherine, it turned out, had not been suspicious of me, had not questioned my activities because she herself had been engaged in an infidelity of her own, one that was even more depraved than mine.
"Oh Simon," she whispered. "I can't keep it in any longer. I've got to tell you everything."
Then, between sobs, the entire story came out: "It all started," she began, "on the night of Brian's fifteenth birthday...."
It had all started quite innocently. It was a warm Wednesday evening and the house was full of people who had come over to celebrate with Brian. Friends, neighbors, relatives ... many, many people had dropped by to wish the boy the heartiest congratulations. Around ten thirty the last of them had left and Brian and his mother Catherine were alone in the house again.
Because it was a very warm evening, she was very scantily clad in a purple housedress and a pair of slippers. Underneath she wore one of those thin tricot brassieres and a similarly flimsy pair of panties. Earlier, she and Brian had danced to some very slow music and it was perhaps then that the whole thing had started. You see, without really meaning to or realizing what she was doing, Catherine pressed her plump, ripe body against her son's chest and legs. The warmth of her flesh had served to arouse him to nearly a feverish pitch. He was wearing jeans and almost against his will, his young penis began to stiffen and grow, to thicken and stiffen till the bloom of manhood was upon it.
Now, with everyone out of the house but his lovely, sexy mother, Brian was beginning to recall the pleasure that he had felt when her body leaned against his. It was abnormal, he realized, depraved and incestuous to think in such a way. And yet, despite his best intentions, he could not change the way he felt
"Darling," his mother now called to the lad, "would you mind helping me clean up the house? Your father will be home late tonight and it would be terrible if he found the place in a mess."
As they straightened out the living room, Brian's desire became even more intense, more lustful. Once, for instance, his mother had to bend over to pick up a paper cup that had rolled under the couch. The housedress that she was wearing went up as she did so and Brian, who was in the alcove diagonally across from the couch could not help getting a clear view. For the first time he was able to see between his mummy's legs. For the first time he was able to see all the way up to the full, swollen mound of her womanly pubis. The panties that she was wearing were so thin, so transparent that they hid nothing at all, that they revealed the glorious beauty of her naked ass, of her raw, voluptuous cunny in a most spectacular manner. Again, for the second time that evening, he felt a boner creeping up his jeans.
Catherine, meanwhile, was down on all fours, her legs spread wide apart, her knees digging into the green pile carpeting. She could feel the wind of the air conditioner climbing between her legs and it exhilarated her in a marvelous way. When her husband Simon got home later that evening, she would be waiting for his massive prick. Of late he had not displayed the customary ardor toward her that she had come to expect. Was he seeing someone else? Perhaps he was doing it to Elizabeth in his spare time? Come to think of it, Elizabeth had been conspicuous by her absence this evening and she had been coming home late quite often the past week or so. Simon and Elizabeth ... was it possible? Just as she was about to draw some sort of conclusion, her head turned to the side and she was able to see Brian's reflection in a mirror that hung on one of the walls. Why, the naughty boy was peeking under her dress. The little bugger was looking at her plump ass, was licking his lips at the sight of her blooming pussy. She looked lower down and she could see a thickness in his jeans. He was getting a hard-on, a boner.
Now she could recall the thrill that she had felt earlier when the two of them had danced together. It had been a momentary spark, but intense nevertheless. She remembered quite vividly the tightness of his arm around her waist, the heat of his loins next to her thighs, the tickle of his fingers as they strayed for a moment down the small of her back and onto the slope of her ass. She had thought nothing of it at the time, but now it came back to her like the splash of the roaring surf.
Oh yes ... there was one more thing that she recalled. One naughty little thing. They had danced, their hips pressed together, their loins locked in a very sexy embrace. Suddenly she felt something against her crotch. At first she had thought it to be a pair of keys or a flashlight or some hard object that he kept in his pocket. It was only after a moment of thought that the truth dawned upon her. She was turning the boy on. She was giving his cock a thrill. She was making it hard and ripe for fucking.
At once she had been attracted and repulsed by what she had done. This was ... well, the simple name for it was incest Still, despite her inhibitions, she had been really turned on, really wild with excitement. In fact, she could now recall how her muff began to lather, how the lips of her pussy had begun to slide hotly together, how the satiny sheath of her cunt had tightened to stimulate the movements of a thrusting prick.
The very same thing was happening at this very moment as she was squatting on all fours, her haunches up in the air, her skirts raised, her lush bottom exposed to the yearning eyes of her boy Brian. Tonight he had turned fifteen; tonight he had become a man. As of yet she had not given him his present because she had been unable to think of a gift that was suitable for the occasion. The lad seemed to have everything that he needed.
Then she thought about the one thing that no boy could resist of the one thing that haunted every teenager from the moment he passed his puberty. That's what he probably wanted more than anything in the whole world, a sweet cut of succulent pussy. She was certain that he had never had any as of yet. Sure, he had probably made out with some of the girls at school, had probably felt up their boobs and their tight little bottoms. But she was sure that they had let him wander no further. So it was probably in his dreams that he had felt pussy, it was probably only in his fantasies that he had experienced the thrill of a hot love hole.
"Darling," Catherine suddenly whispered. "What are you looking at?"
"Looking...." the boy mumbled. "I'm not looking at anything."
"Don't he to me, my sweet little darling. Your mother can see your reflection in the mirror. She can see how you're blushing right now, how your face is turning red because you think that you have something to be ashamed of."
"I ... I was looking at the clock," the boy whispered. "It's kind of late and I have to get up very early because the fellas are going to have a baseball game."
"You're not a very clever liar, my dear. You're probably going to go up to your room and jerk off. Isn't that what young boys do when they're horny? They open up their flies, pull out their big pricks and start to massage the hot meat. Isn't that what you do every night before you go to sleep?"
"Mom, don't talk like that"
"But it's the truth."
There was a smile on Catherine's lips as she turned around and sat down on the floor, her legs spread deliberately apart This time it was not due to negligence that her housedress was rolled up above her plump thighs. This time she had deliberately yanked the purple skirt up to her waist so that she was completely naked from her belly down-except of course, for the flimsy undergarments that she was wearing. These thin summer panties were made of a see-through material and the thick, black bush of her furry cunt was quite evident The reinforced fabric at the very base, where the lips of her cunny were sliding hotly against one another, was beginning to get damp, was beginning to show the first traces of womanly passion.
"Mommy," Brian whispered. "You're letting me see it You're letting me look at it."
"At what?" Catherine asked "What is it that I'm letting you look at, my big hunk of a son?"
"At your...." Brian was beginning to stammer. "At your love hole. You're letting me look at your hot wet pussy. I've always wondered what it looked like, always wondered what it would be like to see it and touch it and taste it"
"What about your mousy girlfriend Felice? Hasn't she ever let you look at her puss?"
"No, she's too much afraid."
"Don't you make out with her?"
"Yes, we make out all the time," Brian whispered. "She lets me tongue loss her and stuff like that. She once even let me slide my hands onto her bare ass, but only for a brief moment She didn't want things to get out of control. She says that she's going to be a virgin till the day that she gets married."
"How terrible for her," Catherine replied. "The silly little bitch. I'll bet that you jerk off thinking about pussy. I'll bet that you have some of those terrible magazines hidden away somewhere in your room. I'll bet that you look at them and pretend that the girls in those pictures are there in real life with you. I'll bet you dream about their hot tongues lashing out against your prick, about their hot lips sucking away at you, about their wet cunts tearing you to pieces."
Catherine, ordinarily quite modest in her behavior, suddenly felt as though she had been possessed by some devilish power. Surely it was not she was was uttering such terrible things. Surely she was not doing this of her own free will. Surely she was not exposing her muff to her son by her own volition.
And yet, she knew that she could not blame some outside force, that it was mere rationalization to pretend that she was possessed by some demonic power. It was her own sexual lust that was responsible for what she was doing. The boy had made her horny, had excited her. feminine passions. Unless Simon came home suddenly to interrupt this little scenario, there was no question in her mind as to how it would be consummated.
But Simon was out somewhere else, banging Elizabeth in a neat little hotel room in Winsor Falls, about twelve miles away. At that very moment, he had one finger shoved up his niece's ass and another finger inside of her young, hairless love mound. His wife and his son were the furthest thing from his mind.
"Do you want me to roll down my panties, darling Brian," Catherine suddenly asked. "This way you'll really be able to get a good look at my muff."
"Mother, is this right?"
"Don't ask silly questions. Who will know?"
"We will."
"That's right-only the two of us will knew what happened. As long as we enjoy it, then we have nothing to be worried about. Isn't that true?"
"Yes mother, that's right," Brian replied, realizing that he had just crossed the threshold and that from now on there could be no turning back for him as there could be no turning back for Catherine. He breathed in deeply, his muscles tensing, his fingers aching with a nervous kind of excitement. He could feel his straining prick inside his tight jeans. It was sliding up and down like a stallion trying to break out of its corral. The knob at the top was raw and red and burning like a roman candle. Could he go through with it? Could he permit himself the incredible joy of having sex with his lovely mother? He stared down at the crotch of her panties for a second and saw the flaming mouth of her cunt, the juicy labial folds at the gates of her wet vaginal orifice. This was the stuff that his dreams were made of. Not that he had ever consciously thought of his mother's cunt But what different did it make that it belonged to her? A cunt was a cunt, and he could see that this one was glorious to behold, a deep seething mouth that seemed to bubble with passion like a cauldron of steamy soup.
"Oh Mother," he suddenly whispered. "Yes, why don't you do it."
"What?" she teased. "What is it that you wish me to do?"
"Take off those smelly bloomers of yours. Take them off so that I may behold the splendor of your delightful cunny for the first time."
"My darling son, your wish is my command," she whispered, getting up off the carpet. The purple housedress that she was wearing was buttoned down the front. It swelled beautifully where her mammoth breasts jutted out and there was a slight roundness at her belly.
At the line where her legs met her torso, the housedress was covered with creases and it was this precise point that held Brian's fascination for it was here that the sacred nest of his mother s sexuality lay hidden. He had seen it for a second before and soon he would have the pleasure of gazing at it again, of feasting his ravenous eyes on its wondrous and splendid beauty.
"Are you going to take off the dress?" Brian heard himself whispering.
"Yes, that's precisely what I plan to do."
"Then you're going to pull down your panties and take off your brassiere."
"Yes, of course my darling."
"And you will let me look on your plump little titties."
"You will not only look, my dear son, but you will also have the pleasure of sucking on them, of kissing them the way you used to when you were yet a little boy. I used to suckle you, my darling, and I shall suckle you again on my plump little breasts."
"And your cunt???" Brian stammered. "You will permit me to feast upon it? You will permit my hands to touch it and my mouth to kiss it and my prick to pound it?"
"Yes, of course, my lovely darling son." Catherine replied. "You will fuck me to your heart's delight. You will do to me whatsoever you wish, whatsoever your fancy leads to. This evening of pleasure shall be my birthday gift to you."
Their eyes met for one long, loving glance and then Catherine proceeded to undress while her son watched from the alcove that he was still standing in. She undid the top button of her housedress, her fingers moving dexterously across the womanly length of her lush body. Her breasts, even sheathed in the brassiere that was covering them, were marvelous to behold. They were big and plump and ripe to the eye. The thin tricot bra could not hide the shape of the nipple underneath which had stiffened even as her son's prick had stiffened before. Both nipples were hard as summer cherries, delightful little organs that seemed almost to burst through the fabric that tried to keep them contained.
Her fingers were nimble as they plucked open each of the little purple buttons that drew the dress around her body. Brian's eyes seemed to pop as he saw how young and voluptuous his mother's body still was. The swell of her belly reeked of sexuality. The width of her hips and curve of her legs was a thing of marvelous wonderment. He suddenly thought of Felice, the girl that he dated steadily. She was a skinny, scrawny thing when compared to this bundle of female passion that was even now being revealed to his eager eyes. Yes, what he was doing was right. What was the point, after all, in repressing his desires, of refusing to indulge his sexual appetite? Who would know that he had fucked his mother or that she had fucked her son? It would be a secret that each would have, a secret that neither would reveal.
Catherine had finally ripped open all twelve purple buttons and now the housedress was flapping at her sides, the front of her body completely naked except for the flimsy undergarments that she was wearing. She let the dress slide off her sleeves, down her arms and finally off her body, falling in a neat little bundle around her feet.
"Now the rest," Brian whispered. "The panties and bra ... will you please take them off, mother, so that there is nothing to hide your beautiful cunt and your glorious tits from my eyes."
"Not yet," Catherine whispered. "You have seen enough of me for now and as of yet I have seen nothing of you. Do you imagine that you're the only one who is thrilled by the sight of naked flesh? I too have that desire. Even now I can feel my heart pound in my chest Even now my clitty is throbbing the way it does when a man's hand is upon it. Even now my little nipples grow hard and plump at the thought of gazing at that big hunk of meat that you've got hidden inside of those pants."
Brian didn't know why, but he found himself suddenly blushing, his cheeks turning red, his forehead becoming covered with beads of perspiration. Should he open up his pants and let Mom have a look at his massive prick. There was something inside him that shouted against this course of action. Call it conscience, call it a sense of ethics, call it whatever you will-it was a little voice that told him that he was doing wrong, that if he didn't turn back soon, there would be no turning back at all.
"Go on, my big boy," Catherine panted hotly, stroking herself through her panties even as the words came biting out of her mouth. "Go on, Brian, open your fly and let me have a look at that big cock of yours."
Brian suddenly lowered his head down to the carpeted floor, his longish brown hair falling against the side of his face and almost down to his neck. He was fifteen, he thought, and he'd still never had a good piece of pussy. He had just turned fifteen, and his hands had not yet dipped into the deep pool of a woman's sexuality. The only gratification he had so far received had been mastubatory in nature. He had rubbed that cock of his on countless nights, had beaten his meat till the cream spurted in huge gobs inside of his fist Only he knew how bad it made him feel that he had to resort to self manipulation for his erotic needs. There were stories all over school about guys two and three years younger than him who were making it steady, who were fucking different girls practically every single night of the week. He had always envied those fellows, had always felt weak and small because they could succeed where he could not. What was it that made them so attractive to the opposite sex? Certainly it wasn't only their looks. After all, he, Brian, was also quite handsome by any standards. No, what made them so good at the game of love was their bravado, the willingness to gamble, to take chances, to take that first step toward gratification.
He, on the other hand, had always been shy and bashful, had always backed away from dangerous situations even as he was trying to back away now. He vacillated too much. He never seemed certain of himself, of what he wanted out of life and it was perhaps that reason that more than anything else accounted for his poor sex record.
Well now was the time to change all that the time to get back on the track, back on the road and headed in the direction that he wanted to go. So Mom wanted to have a look at his prick. Well he's show it to her without any further ado. He'd let her see his massive organ, that thick piece of cock meat He'd let her do more than just look at it First he'd make her take it in her hands. He'd make her caress it softly, and then he would make her open her mouth and tongue it. Yes, he'd put his big prick right between her lips and he'd make her suck on it for a while. Afterwards, he'd push it between her legs and into that big, womanly hole of hers, into that deep, wet vaginal orifice.
"You want to see it, Mom?" Brian suddenly asked, as though he was looking for some assurance that what he was about to do would not be spurned. "You still want to see my dong?"
"Yes," she moaned. "I want to see your big dong."
Brian grabbed the nib of his zipper with his thumb and forefinger. He tugged at it gently and there was a loud crackling sound that suddenly filled the air. The metal teeth came apart one by one till all that remained was a big, gaping black hole in the crotch of his blue jeans. He looked down for a minute even as Catherine's eyes stared at him. Should he reach inside and pull the thing out? Well, before yet another debate could develop inside of him, nature took her course. The big, swollen organ slithered out of his pants even as a snake would slither out from under a pile of rocks. It just popped out straight as an arrow, an enormous protrusion pointing obscenely in the direction of his mother.
When Catherine saw it for the first time, when her eyes first gazed on her body's monstrosity, she began to heave and tremble violently with maddening desire. Could this be true? Could Brian possibly be so big down there? Could his cock possibly be so thick and plump, such a magnificent specimen of male sexuality? God, it was like looking at a man, not a mere boy. He was hung, to use the vernacular, really well hung. Her mouth began to water, her breasts began to quiver with desire, her slash of a red cunt began to slaver eagerly with wet syrups, to literally become sopping wet with the juices of a woman's sexual passions.
"My lovely boy," she whispered, squeezing the cock head softly in her fist. "This big tool of yours will feel good when it's sliding in and out of your mom's wet pussy."
"Then you will let me do it to you?" Brian asked nervously. "You will let me fuck your cunt and bugger your sweet ass?"
"Of course, my lovely son," Catherine replied as though in a trance. "You can fuck me to your heart's delight If buggering my soft ass is what pleases you, then you may do that as well, just so long as you do not deny me the pleasure of feeling your hard dick lodged inside of my pussy. Now that I have seen how big and hard it is, I don't think that I can go on any longer without feeling it inside my body."
"And inside your mouth," Brian whispered. "You will also take it inside of your mouth. Do you ever take Dad's cock inside of your mouth?" the boy suddenly asked. "Be truthful with me. Have you ever sucked his dick?"
Why was the boy tormenting her so with his silly questions? Her hand was still firmly grasped around the boy's exposed tool, holding on to it as though she was holding on to life itself. It was so warm, like a glowing firebrand, thickly veined and swollen with hot passion. She rubbed it for a second and then reached up to the clasp of his jeans which she pulled open. Then, with one quick motion she pulled the tight trousers down her son's young, perfectly shaped limbs. He was wearing sneakers, which she unlaced and pulled off and before another moment had passed she was holding onto the elastic waistband of his white jockey shorts.
"You're so beautiful," she whispered as she rolled them over his buttocks, and down his legs. "You're such a beautiful young boy with a beautiful young dick."
"Who's more beautiful, me or Dad?" Brian asked, getting some sort of obscene kick out of bringing his father into the conversation, out of making comparisons between the two of them. "Cmon Mom, you've got to be honest with me."
"You're both beautiful." Catherine replied, "You in a boyish sort of way and he in a different manner. I find both of you quite desirable."
"If you had the chance to have both of us here, doing it to you, would you take it?"
"What do you mean?" Catherine asked, though she understood quite well what Brian was driving at.
"You know," the boy explained. "How would you like it if both of us were here fucking you? How would you feel if Dad and I were to make a sandwich out of your hot body, with me drilling my dick up your ass while he was screwing your snatch?"
Catherine didn't know why, but she was suddenly trembling all over as though a scalding fever had taken possession of her body. The words that Brian had just uttered were thrilling in every way. If only they could come true, she thought. If only Simon and Brian were here at this very moment. She would get down on her knees and take both of their dicks in her mouth. She'd suck on them till they were both shooting cream, till both of their long, hard cocks were spurting thick gobs of white semen, God, how she liked the taste of that stuff on her lips. It was like life itself to her, like the ambrosia of the gods.
Suddenly she reached down with her long, white fingers and began to massage Brian's muscled loins. He was built like a Greek god, so perfectly shaped, so ruggedly strong and yet so boyishly innocent at the very same time. That was perhaps what appealed to her more than anything. She was one hundred percent sure that he was still a virgin, that he had still not touched naked pussy, that his young, virile dick had not yet had the pleasure of being sucked into a wet love hole. She would be the first for him, and despite the fact that he was her son, she was thrilled by this realization.
She continued to rub his thighs, to massage him between his legs, to gently squeeze his young, hard balls with her fingers and palms, applying just the right amount of pressure to make the boy quiver with desire. He was standing in the center of the room by now, completely naked, his hands stupidly swinging at his sides while his mother continued her erotic manipulations.
How was it that she knew just how to stroke him, just how much friction to apply to his mighty organ? It's funny, but he had never thought of his mother as a sexual creature, had never thought of her as a mere human being possessing mortal lusts and desires. And yet now, for perhaps the first time, all of his illusions were being shattered. Here she was, her fingers massaging his grand organ, her smooth white palms applying the most delicate and yet the most thrilling pressure that his penis had ever encountered. Surely she was much experienced at the art of lovemaking. Surely she reveled in it, became excited throughout her being by the entire sexual act. Suddenly he wondered how often she and Dad fucked one another. Did she get it on the side as well? What about vibrators? Did she use them when a man was not available? These and many other queries were floating around in Brian's head as his mother continued her thrilling manipulations.
By now she had practically worked herself to a feverish frenzy and her eyes were bulging wildly in her head. Her housedress had slipped off of her and she was wearing but a bra and flimsy panties, the thick curls of black pubic hair quite apparent as they formed a bulge near her crotch. The room had become filled with her spicy sex odor, an aroma that acted like heady wine when Brian first inhaled it. He suddenly felt as though he was spinning around, as though he had suddenly been transported to another dimension, to another world.
"Oh Mom," he whispered. "You rub my cock so nicely."
"Has any girl ever given you a better hand job?" she asked, continuing with her sensual strokes.
"Don't tease me," the boy whispered. "You know perfectly well that the only hands that so far have touched this cock of mine were my own."
"You liked jerking off, didn't you?" Catherine asked. "I'll bet that you used to do it every night."
"Yes," the boy cried as the pressure in his loins grew more and more intense. "I loved jerking off."
"Who did you dream of?" she asked.
"Of Felice," Brian whispered. "I would dream of her big ass and her juicy titties. I would pretend that it was her hands that were doing the jerking, that it was her hands that were massaging my balls."
"Did you ever dream of me during those times? Did you ever wish that it was my hands, that it. was my mouth, that it was my cunt that you were getting so much pleasure from? Tell the truth, my darling boy."
"Oh Mom, yes," Brian exclaimed. "Your hands, your tits, your cunt...." His voice trailed off to a low hum, to a thrilling moan because as he had been talking, his mother's mouth had begun to descend across his upright body, her lips first kissing him on his face, on his cheeks, on the cleft of his smooth chin. She grabbed his earlobe with her teeth and bit on it deliciously, blowing hot gusts of breath into his ear.
Meanwhile Brian's hands had awakened and suddenly taken a more active role than before. There was nothing to be afraid of any longer, no reason to hold back. This body, though it belonged to his mother, was his to enjoy, to explore, to do with as he pleased.
The first thing that he wanted to touch was her ass. He didn't know why it held so much appeal for him, just that from the very beginning he had desired to paw it with his fingers. That's how it had all started, hadn't it? His mother had bent over to pick something up from under the sofa and in doing so had permitted him to take a long, loving glance under her skirt. The first thing that his eyes had seen at the time was the ample curve of her juicy buttocks. This was a woman's ass, big, round and robust. From the first he had wanted to fondle it. From the very beginning he had wanted to feel its warmth pulse through his fingers. It was like a dream come true when he slid his hands around her waist, to the small of her back and then down to the voluptuous warmth of her juicy bottom.
"Go on my boy, enjoy yourself the way I will soon be enjoying myself," Catherine suddenly whispered. "You've been wanting to feel that ass of mine for a long, long while. Now's your chance. Put your hands inside of my panties like a good little boy."
Brian obeyed, his fingers slithering in through the waistband of his mom's silky undergarments. The ass flesh that he now touched made him tremble with warm passion. So this was it finally. It was soft and smooth and full of erotic sensuality. The two cheeks were divided by a warm ravine that spread open eagerly when Brian's fingers dipped into it. He went all the way around with his hand, encountering first the moist hole of her anus. Should he or shouldn't he, Brian wondered.
"Go on," his mother suddenly whispered as though she was able to read the lad's thoughts. "I know that you want to frig my asshole. There's no reason why you shouldn't, providing that you don't forget about my warm, wet cunny. Frig my ass with one finger and then use the other on my pussy. Don't be afraid that it'll hurt because I can assure you that it won't be painful at all."
"Yes Mother," Brian whispered. "I shall do as you say."
And having said those words, he proceeded to jam his thumb into the juicy opening of his mother's ass. She was tight inside but he had no trouble whatsoever, getting all the way up. In fact, he even was able to work another finger into the crevice before she began to squirm in her panties. Her leg muscles had tightened and her face was still pressed to the boy's neck.
"Go on," she whispered into his ear. "Now for your mother's cunny."
"Yes, your cunny," Brian repeated, searching desperately for the fragrant sluice that lay hidden between her milky white thighs.
"That a boy," his mother whispered. "You're touching pussy for the first time in your life. How does it feel to touch your mom's snatch?"
"Delicious!!"
Catherine was twisting and grinding inside of her panties, in perfect rhythm with Brian's, as yet, inexperienced hands. She was pushing her muff right up against his palm, bending her knees to squat deliciously against it As she did so, the hole spread open like a deep, dank pool. Brian felt how incredibly slippery the thing was and he began to palpitate violently, his heart thumping in his chest like a racing motor. So this was cunt. This is what it felt like. God, was it possible that he had gone so long without any, that he had been deprived of it for practically fifteen years of his life?
"You like my cunny?" Catherine asked.
"Yes, my darling mother," Brian whispered, as he let his fingers trace the silky soft labial rim from one end to the other. Her furry beaver got in the way at times, so luxuriously thick was it But the hairs were soft and wet with syrup, long and smooth and incredibly thrilling.
"You're enjoying yourself my boy," Catherine whispered. "It's like you're in a candy shop for the first time and you want to try everything. I can still feel that thumb of yours jammed into my tight little asshole. Your other fingers are playing with the opening of my snatch, tickling the lips, massaging them softly and slowly."
"Yes Mom," Brian whispered. "I never knew that it could be like this, that any person's body could give me so much pleasure."
"Now, my lad," Catherine whispered. "It is time for you to give me pleasure."
"I shall do anything you command," Brian said. "Just give me the word."
"Take a finger and put it into the hole."
"Yes, it is time for that," Brian said simply. He pulled open the moist labial lips, and then like a diver on a cliff he paused for a breath of air, before finally taking the plunge inside. It was as though her body had suddenly received a jolt of current because Catherine began to gyrate madly, her swelling hips dancing to an erotic drumbeat. Brian went deep into her womb, deep into the plush, moist love hole, frigging away like mad.
"Oh God, God...." his mother cried, squirming on the floor like a worm on a hook. "It feels so good to have you fingerfucking me like that. Stick it way deep into the hole. Lower. Yes, God yes, with all your might. Ram it into me, my boy. Ram it into my snatch with all your might"
He didn't need any instructions because nature was now taking its course as his instinct drove him forward. He worked on that hole for what seemed to him nearly an hour, but was closer to twenty minutes, fingerfucking his mother with the technique of an expert. Never in her life had Catherine been so thrilled by a man's hand. Sometimes he pushed it in deep, other times he twirled it around in a circle, still other times he waved his fingers back and forth, swinging them like pendulums inside of her pussy. All the while she was getting juicier and juicier, her insides literally becoming flooded with gooey pussy juice, its fragrant aroma emanating like a cloud from the exposed snatch.
"Oh God," Catherine cried when she could hardly stand it any longer. "You're making me come, you naughty little boy. You're making your own sweet mother come." Her hands grabbed hold of his neck and she applied a delicate pressure forcing him downwards.
What was it that she wanted? Why was it that she was making him get down to his knees? Then he remembered about a practice that his friends had discussed. What was the name again. He closed his eyes and then he remembered. Cunnilingus!!! That's when a man eats a woman's pussy. Could this be what his mother had in mind?
"Mom," he asked. "Do you want me to ... P--"
He couldn't complete his sentence because she interrupted.
"Yes," she whispered. "That's exactly what I want you to do. Get down on your knees and show me how much you love that puss of mine. I want to come with your lips sucking my snatch."
She was still wearing her panties, and it was now time to pull off those fragrant undergarments. He grabbed them by the elastic waistband and gave one heave. Off they went and for the first time he was able to see the thing that till now he had only been caressing. A thick patch of fur grew in a triangle underneath her soft, succulent belly. The lips of her cunt were swollen red, sliding deliciously against one another as Brian gazed intently at them. So this was the thing that had felt so soft when he touched it. What a beautiful object it was, so delightful to behold, so wet and soft and hungry. So his mother wanted him to go down on it with his mouth. He'd never done this thing before so he would have to be careful. He didn't want to damage any of the merchandise, after all, by biting on it too hard. Brian smiled to himself and then bent his knees and was down on the floor, kneeling before his mother's cunt the way pagans of old used to kneel before some strange and beautiful idol.
"That's a good lad," Catherine whispered, her heart still thumping wildly in her chest. Just moments ago she had almost experienced an orgasm from her son's nimble fingering. It was by sheer willpower that she had been able to stop the thing from happening. It's not that she didn't like to come. On the contrary, she loved the feeling of careless abandon that accompanied the spasms of sexual joy. But the sudden desire to have her son's mouth on her snatch was even more powerful than the pleasure of an impending orgasm. She would come soon enough, but it would be his lips and his tongue that would be the instrument of her pleasure, the instrument of her sexual joy.
"Yes my son," she whispered. "I will spread my legs for you so that you can get a good look at my wet snatch. Your dad sometimes makes me he down on the bed completely naked. He says that I've got a furry puss so he shines a light on it and then he just looks at the thing, stares at it the way you would at a priceless treasure."
"Doesn't he like to fuck you?" Brian asked curiously.
"Oh, he fucks me all the time." Catherine paused for a second. ActuaHy what she had said wasn't entirely true. Lately Simon had been acting rather strangely, coming home late, making up all sorts of excuses for leaving the house. Indeed, several nights ago she had woken up and found that he was not asleep in his customary place on the bed next to her. She had begun to suspect that he was having an affair with someone. With Elizabeth. Yes, she was almost sure that he was screwing his niece, that he was dipping into the young girl's lovely honey pot.
Yet, despite her suspicions, she still loved him and still could recall with pleasure the wonderful fucking that she had received on innumerable occasions from him. Would her son Brian be as good as his dad? Could he use that mighty tool of his with the same finesse, with the same control that Simon consistently displayed?
Well, Catherine thought to herself, soon he would have his chance, soon he would have the opportunity to prove himself, to show his mom just how much he truly loved her.
"Go on, my eager young buck," Catherine whispered "My snatch is wide open and just begging to be eaten. I want you to suck on it till I can't stand it any more. I want you to make me come with those lips of yours, with that big fat tongue of yours that even now is dying for a good taste of my snatch."
Dying was the word, all right. Brian never knew that anticipation could be so intense, that desire could be so ravenous. His mother's belly was beautifully plump, her hips wide and inviting, her navel a gorgeous opening just above the tangled forest of pubic fur that flared up from between her legs. His eyes drank in the lower portion of her torso the way a thirsty man drinks in streams of water. Such beauty was finally his, finally becoming available to satisfy his hungry lust. He watched as his mother pushed her hips out toward him, her legs spreading wide apart, the soft mound of her snatch becoming easily accessible to his watering lips.
At long last I will taste pussy, the lad thought to himself. If it tasted as good as it smelled, then this would be a delightful little treat. Brian circled his arms around his mother's meaty white thighs, caressing her ass once again as his eager hands ascended the slope of her buttocks. He held them firmly and pulled her toward him, closing his eyes, breathing in deeply and then taking a wild plunge into the dripping wet muff.
"Kiss it Brian," Catherine whispered when she first felt the hot breath of his mouth on her raw cunt. She closed her eyes and reached up to her bra-covered breasts, God, she was still wearing that damn thing. Brian, in his eagerness for pussy, had forgotten all about her titties. Well, the boy was young and impetuous. It takes lots of experience to appreciate that other sexual region of a woman's body, to appreciate the full potential of a big pair of warm mammaries.
"Suck, my boy," Catherine whispered under her breath as she began to massage her big tits with her hands. Even through the brassiere she could apply a delightful amount of pressure to the hard brown nipples. It felt so good to rub herself like that. When she was still a young girl she used to take a pillow and rub it against her titties for sexual gratification. Later on she learned how good it could be to feel a man's hard cock gliding across those two sensitive hillocks.
"Ahhhhhh...." she cried. "Ahhhhhhhh . ... "
Brian could hear his mother's wail, even with his face buried between her legs. Only several minutes had elapsed since he had commenced his ministrations, and yet even in this brief interval he had been able to learn much about the art of the sexual caress. His mouth had begun with a soft, subtle kiss bestowed gently on the labial lips. These drape-like folds had been amply smeared with vaginal fluid, glazed with the stuff. Brian's tongue licked the stuff dry, like a cat lapping up a bowl of warm milk.
"My clitty," his mother shouted. "Eat my clitty first" The problem was where to find it since this was his first trek across the female anatomy. He remembered reading somewhere that the clitoris was the seat of a woman's sexuality, that it lay hidden somewhere at the top, that it was a pearl-like organ that was jam packed with nerve endings.
"My ditty," his mother repeated. "Suck on my clitty like a good little boy."
It didn't take long for Brian to find the small, swollen protrusion. First he tongued it, applying a delicate and yet intense friction to its smooth surface. A second later he sucked it into his mouth, chewing on it first with his lips and then with his teeth.
"Not so hard, Brian," his mother whispered. "Take it easy, lad."
He played with this delicious female pleasure center for about ten minutes, very pleased with himself when his mother began to writhe and squirm with wild, erotic fever. He was now master of the situation and this made him feel good. He could make her scream if he wanted. He knew just what to do, just where to apply the pressure and in precisely what amount. After giving the hard little clit a few more wet, sloppy licks, Brian turned his attention to the love hole, several inches below.
He opened up the labial lips the way you would open up a clam shell, pulling it apart with his tongue and then thrusting his mouth right into her deep and fragrant cunt. First he just licked the sides, explored their plushness, their velvety depth. He was truly like a boy who had suddenly stumbled on a treasure, who had found his fondest wish coming true. This was pussy. The real thing and not some mere hallucination concocted for mastubatory purposes. He was inside of it, ticking it, swallowing the sweet juices that even at this moment it was exuding.
"Oh my lovely, lovely boy," Catherine cried, her hands still stroking her milky boobs. "Make your tongue like a cock. Push it into me hard. Fuck me with it Please fuck me with that big tongue of yours."
Ah, so that's what she wanted. He understood right away what was expected of him. It took him a little while to build up steam, first stroking her cunt hole very softly with his tongue. Then he increased the rhythm and the pace, till he was moving like a locomotive in and out of her deep, fragrant tunnel. Again Catherine's loins were beginning to heave. She was squeezing his head with her thighs, closing them tightly around his neck, pushing her wet muff closer and closer to his mouth. She was looking for the maximum pleasure and she was doing her best to insure it, grinding away with her hips and pelvis, fucking his mouth in the same way that she would fuck a long, hard prick.
"Your tongue...." she cried. "Aughhhhh ... ifs so nice to feel it inside of my puss, so nice to feel it banging away at me. I'm going...." She paused for a second, feeling waves of pure pleasure spreading themselves from the erogenous region between her legs, outward and upward throughout her body. It felt like warm, tingling fingers were massaging her flesh, like soft, succulent caresses of pleasure were covering her from top to bottom.
"I'm coming," she finally cried. "I'm coming." With those words said, her hands were flung in the air and her thighs began to squeeze even tighter around Brian's neck. Her pelvis expanded and contracted and the juice of her pubis ran freely from the excited orifice. Brian kept applying pressure, kept licking and sucking on his mother's raw cunt till the violent upheavals finally stopped. Her entire body was covered with sweat by now, and her long hair, neatly combed when all this had started, was now tangled and frazzled and pasted up against her forehead. It had been good though, made even more pleasant by knowing that it was the mouth of her son, the mouth of her darling young boy that had guided her to this experience of total and ultimate satisfaction.
"You did well," Catherine whispered when it was all over and the last spasm had left her body. "You're a natural pussy eater. You really know how to give a woman pleasure with that beautiful mouth of yours."
It was my first time," Brian whispered.
It will certainly not be your last," Catherine smiled, a twinkle in her eye. "Of course you'll have my pussy to eat from now on, when ever you have an appetite for it. And then therell be other girls. Plenty of other pussy for you to tongue-kiss and suck on."
Brian felt quite good that his mother was praising him so highly, especially in light of the fact that this was his first sexual experience with oral lovemaking. But there was a vague feeling of uneasiness that he felt, a vague feeling of apprehension. What if his father should suddenly walk in through the door and see him standing like that, his big dick waving like a flagpole at his mother. Brian wanted to say something, but Catherine, seeing that he was experiencing pangs of remorse, put a finger to her lips and told him to remain silent.
"Shh...." she whispered. "I don't want to hear a thing from you. You've just made me come and I'm going to do the same in return for you."
"How?" Brian asked stupidly, the apprehension that he had felt just a moment ago vanishing like a thin streak of smoke into the air. She was going to do to him what no other woman had yet done. She would make him come. How, Brian wondered. In a second, he was provided with an answer because less than a second later, Catherine, his mother, was on her knees in front of his giant phallus. She cupped both of her hands around it and began stroking the hot piece of meat with her palms, brashing it lightly even as her lips kissed his belly and loins.
"My beautiful boy," she whispered. "I've often dreamed of this moment, when I would be able to take this big dick and hold it in my hands, when I would have it so close to my mouth that I could practically kiss it if I so desired."
"Is that what you're going to do?" Brian asked. "Are you going to lass my dong? Are you going to blow my cock and suck in the gobs and gobs of cream when I shoot off?"
"My sweet, delicious boy," Catherine continued to whisper. "Here, bend over and unhook my brassiere."
Brian obeyed her instructions, grasping hold of the three metal clasps that held the contraption in place. Once they were undone, her breasts popped out of the cups that held him like ripe fruit from a tree. He bent down to have a good look at those titties. They were indeed large, beautifully curved like two white mountains of pleasure.
"Tin going to take your big cock," Catherine whispered, "and I'm going to rub it against my big titties. You'll see, it'll be lots of fun for you, lots of fun, my darling boy."
First she pulled his cock between the two mounds, burying the head in her cleavage and then using her hands to move the globes of her breasts against its inflamed surface. Almost before she knew it, a tiny trickle of seminal fluid came pouring out of the eye at the tip. It was a sticky, gooey substance that had a smooth, honey texture to it
"Now I'm going to rub it against my nipples " Catherine whispered. "I'm going to take your big cock and use it to excite myself with."
"Then what?" Brian asked breathlessly, though he instinctively knew the answer.
"Then," Catherine said. "Then I'm going to suck your cock till you come in my mouth. I believe that one should do unto others as they have done unto you. And you've certainly given me pleasure with your mouth as as I will give you pleasure with mine."
She took the lad's enormous tool and began to run it back and forth across the peaks of her mammoth breasts. Even though they were large, they did not sag, but maintained their youthful form. She stroked the lad's cockhead against her left nipple and then brought its head against the right one. This procedure continued for about five minutes till Brian, mouth open, tongue hanging out, felt like he was at the end of his tether. She had aroused him to fever pitch, had excited him in a way that he had not dreamed was possible.
The knob of his cock was enflamed and small eye drops of pre-seminal fluid had leaked out of the tip and had spread itself along its surface. While she rubbed her titties against her son's massive organ, Catherine was further arousing his carnal lust by gently squeezing his throbbing balls, tickling them with her fingers, massaging them with her palms, applying a delightful friction to them in a manner that nearly twenty years of sexual experience had taught her.
"Oh God," Brian finally cried. "If you keep this up I'm going to come."
"How close are you?" Catherine asked.
"Pretty close," Brian replied. But even if he hadn't said anything, just looking at his face would have told her the entire story. His eyes were literally bulging out of his head like two swollen grapes. His adam's apple was bobbing nervously in his throat. His forehead was perspiring heavily. Even his heartbeat was loud and distinct, filling the room like a drum.
"I don't want you to spray the stuff all over my titties," Catherine laughed. "I guess that it's time to suck your dick into my mouth and show you how good a really expert blow-job can feel."
Then, in one fell swoop, her head dived down toward his enormous erection. Her mouth gaped open and her lips did the rest, sucking the thing deep into her oral cavity. She had a warm mouth and a hot tongue which almost instantly began lavishing sweet kisses on this f long, hard intruder. In a second the entire surface of his hard dick was covered with her sweet saliva, her teeth chewing, her lips sucking, her tongue licking hard and fast.
This mouth has sucked many dicks before, Brian thought to himself. Not even an experienced whore could be so agile at the art of fellatio. There was not a single superfluous action, a single unnecessary motion. Like a well-conducted symphony orchestra, the different parts of her mouth moved in unison toward the same objective. Brian didn't want to come too fast, wishing to relish these moments of pleasure, wishing to make them stretch out and last and last.
Meanwhile the teeth were biting delicately, the lips sucking gently, the tongue stroking softly. How much longer could this go on, Brian wondered. This was a hundred times better than masturbation, a thousand times better. God, the friction was practically driving him up the wall, practically making him crazy with lust He tightened his muscles, squeezed his palms together and began thrusting with his pelvis. No longer would he remain motionless, no longer would he remain the passive recipient of sexual excitement. He threw his hands on Catherine's head and held it firmly, and then he began to pump away at her mouth with his cock.
I'm fucking you Mom," he cried out loud. "I'm fucking you in the mouth."
His big dong went gliding back and forth at an excited pace. He jammed it. all the way down into her throat so that she began to cough and gag, pulling the thing out a moment later before thrusting it back again.
"I can feel it now" the boy cried I'm going to come----Going to shoot my load."
But there was no time for anything else, no time for anything but the thrill of ejaculation. It came pouring out of his cockhead in strong, gooey spurts, an interval of several seconds between each. Catherine nearly went mad when she tasted the velvety cream, nearly climaxed right there on her knees as her son's smooth, silky semen filled her throat with its fragrant heat. She was tasting it, sucking it in, swallowing every single precious drop, every precious ounce.
"I loved the way he tasted, Simon," Catherine whispered to me. "I know it was wrong for me to blow my own son, but there was something that overcame me, an impulse that I just couldn't resist."
"What happened afterwards?" I asked, partly curious and partly aroused. I must admit that this story that she told me of her encounter with Brian certainly turned me on. I could feel even now, a thick, rising hardness forming inside of my pants.
"What do you mean, afterwards?" Catherine asked. "I sucked the boy off and then the two of us lay down on the carpet and held one another very close. I knew that you would be coming home soon so when I saw that it was a quarter to midnight I hurriedly got dressed and sent Brian up to his room."
"Yes, I remember that night quite well," I whispered. "You were acting quite suspiciously when I entered the house. Very nervous, tense."
"Well you know, I sort of thought that it showed, that my incestuous involvement with Brian could somehow be revealed in my eyes." Catherine paused a second. "Did you suspect?"
Did I suspect. That was a good question. Perhaps if I had not been so amorously involved with my naughty niece Elizabeth, I might have been able to see what was happening. But I was much too busy covering my own tracks to try to uncover those of others.
"No," I replied honestly. "I had no idea what had transpired between the two of you." Suddenly I gulped hard, a lump forming in my throat. I must say that I felt at once aroused by what I had heard and at the same time was sickened by it. I mean, she was my wife, not some dirty little slut. And yet that's exactly how she had behaved, exactly how she had acted.
"Tell me Catherine," I whispered. "Was that the only time."
"Only time...?"
"You know," I continued. "Was that the only time that you and Brian made it together?"
Catherine's head was downcast. She looked quite beautiful at that moment, her long black hair done up in a bun above her head, her body encased in a tight-fitting yellow print dress that she sometimes wore around the house. Her breasts were magnificently large, her hips wide but delicious to behold. Was it possible? Had my son Brian feasted on her body, had his lips tasted her pussy, had his mouth caressed those wonderfully plump bubbies? Well, as the saying goes, when the cat's away, the mice will play.
"Be honest with me, dear," I whispered. "Did you and Brian ever screw one another after that?"
"Yes," she finally nodded. "Lots of times. ... We did it lots of times. I mean, you were always away at the office and I was lonely. Time after time, I told myself that I would have to stop, but I found myself invariably being drawn toward his room."
"So it was you who sought him out."
"Yes, I'm the guilty party." Catherine whispered. "Brian wanted to stop. There were many times that he wanted to put an end to the whole thing. It was making him quite nervous, quite apprehensive."
"But...?"
"But I wouldn't let him go. I needed him. I needed to feel his mighty tool digging away at my snatch. I needed to feel his cock shooting come inside my puss." Suddenly Catherine turned her head to the side, her long, silky black hair falling gently across her back and shoulders. Was it a tear in her eye that she was wiping away? I couldn't be sure.
The wind outside had picked up and for August it was quite, quite strong. The rain had begun pouring down in buckets and the sky had suddenly turned murderously black. I must admit that I was feeling quite angry not only with Catherine, but with myself as well. I couldn't help thinking that if only I had given her the attention and sexual affection which she so badly needed, which every woman needs, then this tragedy might have been avoided.
Elizabeth-that bitch was the cause of all my troubles, the cause of this disaster. And yet, could she in truth be blamed? After all, she was but a mere seventeen-years-old, a child. I was the adult, the only one whose actions could be held accountable. I had given into her whorish seduction. I had permitted her to lead me to this terrible plight. From now on, I resolved, I would avoid the girl, have nothing to do with her. No matter how badly she would entreat me, no matter how seductively she would approach me, I would remain firm.
While all this was going through my head, my eyes continued to stare at Catherine's voluptuous body. It was as though this sudden revelation about her affair with Brian had acted as a mighty aphrodisiac. My organ had stiffened and was now pushing uncomfortably against the trousers that I was wearing. Did I dare make an advance? What would she think of me? And yet she was my wife, still my lovely, darling wife in spite of what I had just heard.
I don't exactly know how it happened, because it was one of those things that occur on the spur of the moment I let the paper that I was holding slide down onto the carpeted floor and then I rose and approached her. I let my hand fall down on her cheek. Then, wordlessly, I bent over and kissed her on the mouth. At first her lips remained sealed, as though they would not permit my tongue to enter. But in a moment they parted as the clouds part before the rays of the warm sun.
Our tongues merged and the sweet flavor of her saliva filled me with an insatiable desire. It was as though her harlotry made her even more desirable to me, as though her incestuous relationship made her even more sexually attractive. My hand suddenly fell to the zipper in the back of her yellow dress. With one quick motion I pulled it all the way down and then lifted her arms out of the shoulders of the dress. How can I describe what she looked like at that moment, in complete repose, leaning back in the sofa chair, her dress down around her waist? How can words describe the sheer beauty of her brassiere-clad upper torso? At the time she was wearing one of those light nylon bras, the kind that are meant only to give support and which do very little to hide the exquisite beauty of a woman's breasts. The cleavage was deep and delicious, the two hillocks on either side like silken white globes of pleasure.
Now I closed my eyes for a second and tried to remember what she had done to Brian. She had taken his mighty organ and rubbed it against her tits, had massaged it with her breasts. It was only fitting that I, being her husband, should receive the same generous treatment
"What are you going to do, Simon?" She suddenly asked, the paleness having left her cheeks, a bright youthful blush making her look quite attractive, quite seductively beautiful. There was a twinkle in her eyes, as though she full well understood what it was that I had in mind, but she repeated her question nevertheless.
"What do you want to do?"
"I want to fuck you, my darling wife," I replied and as I said so, I reached behind her and unclasped the tiny hooklets that held the brassiere in place. In a second my hands were on the cups, peeling them off her flesh the way you would peel the skin off a fruit
"You want me to do to you the way I did to Brian?" she asked hesitantly. "You're going to fuck my titties and then you're going to fuck me in the mouth?"
"Yes, my darling wife."
Seconds later my own fly was unclasped and my dick was ready for a good tit fuck. God, it was a swollen rod, standing up at a forty-five degree angle, pointing at her like an accusing finger. Her breasts were two perfect globes of flesh, round and firm and filled with the heat of womanly passion.
"Oh Simon, darling, let it be like it used to," Catherine whispered. She leaned back and I was delighted by the way her mamillaries flattened, the way they changed their shape. Indeed, with each movement of her body, she was able to reform them in different ways, now round, now flat, now pear shaped, now pointing up, now pointing toward the floor. It was fascinating to watch how her cleavage changed in dimensions, now growing wide as a canyon, now narrowing to a mere crevice, growing wider or narrower with the motions of her arms and chest and torso.
"Take your hands," I whispered, "and push your titties together. I want your cleavage to be nice and tight as I rub my hard dick against your soft, warm bubbies."
"First brush it against my nipples," the excited Catherine whispered. "Make these cherries feel the heat of your dick, even as they have felt the heat of Brian's big dick. Make them grow so hard that they will want to burst open for you like ripe summer cherries."
"Yes, my darling wife," I whispered passionately. "Your wish shall be my command."
I grabbed my erect pern's at the base, and somewhat like an artist with a warm brush, I began to smear the thing across the outer surface of her large bust. I concentrated on her left tit first, sliding the hot, throbbing organ that I was holding in my grasp against its equally hot and voluptuous surface. In the meanwhile, I had begun working my knees between Catherine's legs, ghding them up her thighs, massaging the hot inner flesh of her loins first with one of my knees and then with the other.
"My nipples," Catherine cried. "They want to feel your cock. They want to feel your balls rubbing against them. Please, darling Simon, do not deprive them of this great and glorious pleasure."
"Not for the world," I replied. "Not for the sun and moon and stars would I keep the hot meat of my dick from your lovely little nipples."
They were colored a dark pink, spread over a large portion of her titties, like two glowing stars of pure pleasure. At first I poked them with my prick, but after a while I was able to discover a better technique, one which you, dear reader, might find quite useful in your own carnal endeavors. I made Catherine slide down on the sofa chair that she was sitting on, so that her back was lying flat, so that her bust was facing the ceiling, directly below my enormous rod. Now, by throwing my legs around her hips, I was in complete control, able to slide the underside of my penis across the warm, white flesh of her upper torso, across the satiny smooth surface of her lovely young breasts. In order to have the maximum pleasure, I dropped my trousers and undergarments so that I was completely naked from the waist down. My balls swung low, and with each stroke of my dick, they banged away at her flesh in a gentle and yet exciting manner.
"Oh Simon," she cried. "You will play me the way a violinist plays his violin. Your dong will be the bow and my titties will be the instrument."
"Yes, lovely wife, I will fuck your tits and then come in your mouth,"
"No, not in my mouth," Catherine whispered. "I am a dirty harlot, a tramp that deserves to be spat on for the evil sin that I have committed with our lovely son, Brian. Punish me by letting your come, by letting your hot cream spray in my face. I wish to be degraded, my husband. I wish for you to humiliate me."
Suddenly I remembered Elizabeth's request along similar lines several weeks ago, on our first encounter out in the country. Maybe what the bitch needed was a little beating? Yes, I decided, it would do her a lot of good to feel the lash across her body.
"What are you going to do?" she asked when I raised my hand against her.
"You'll see, you incestuous bitch," I whispered. "I will teach you what it means to diddle with your son's dong. I will teach you what it means to take his stiff prick into your mouth and suck it till it exploded with gobs of gooey semen."
"You're going to hit me?" she asked and I could see that she was thrilled by the prospect
"Of course, you darling bitch," I replied and then slapped her face for her. Not hard because I want to assure you that I am not a sadist and I do not thrill to an other's suffering. And yet, I suppose, that there is a bit of everything in each of us and that if we dig deep enough we will soon discover that every perversion that has ever been conceived becomes a possibility in our lives when the right mix of circumstances converge at precisely the right moment in time. Just as this afternoon released certain sadistic impulses in me, I could see that activated Catherine's masochistic yearnings. She had asked for me to ejaculate in her face because she wanted some sort of punishment for her illicit sexual activities with Brian. How much more effective would a beating be? How much more would she enjoy one? I wasn't sure, but I was certainly intent on finding out
"My darling bitch of a wife," I sneered. "You will now suffer for your infidelity."
Having said those words I began to slap her lightly on the face once again. It was not so much pain as humiliation that I wanted to achieve. I treated her like a mere child, like a lowly servant girl, as my palms stung her flesh. Soon I was attacking her breasts that moments later I intended to fuck. Again and again I brought my hand down against those lovely globes of sexual pleasure, till from a pale, lovely white, I had turned their color to a crimson hue. You could see my finger marks on her skin, the outline and shape of my palms on her flesh.
"Oh darling," she whispered to me. "This is what I deserve, Simon. I deserve to be beaten and I am so glad that it is you who are doing it to me, that it is you who are administering this lovely punishment"
"So you like it" I laughed fiendishly. "This shall only be the beginning of your degradation. This shall only be the first step of your penance."
"My dear husband," she said. "Do with me as you wish. I am a mere harlot, a vile filthy creature that deserves to be punished by whatever means you see fit"
Catherine was still lying face up on the sofa chair. The dress that she was wearing was down around her waist and as yet I had not feasted on the plushness of her cunt and ass. Now was the time, the perfect time for what I wanted from her, for what I had in mind.
"Turn over," I whispered.
"Why?"
I slapped her in the face, this time harder than before: "Don't you know that you must never question my authority? Don't you know that it is wrong for you to ask for a reason when I command you to do something? You are to obey as a mere servant girl would. You must respond quickly and unhesitantly to my command."
"Yes master," she whispered.
Then turn over."
"I will turn over," she said, mimicking my words like some small, helpless child.
In a second she was down on her knees, her ass high in the air, her face down on the seat of the sofa chair. Her back was bare and her dress was still covering the lower portions of her anatomy. Not for long, however. In a moment I grabbed the hem of her yellow print dress and lifted it up over her legs, past her calves and thighs and up above her luscious ass. Underneath she was wearing a pair of matching yellow panties that were fringed at the borders with hot-pink lace. They were made of very sheer material and the globes of her butttocks stood out beautifully against such fabric.
"Take off those undergarments," I whispered. "I can see that they are all sweated up, that the place where they rub against your cunt is all covered with the hot juice of your pussy."
"Yes, husband," she whispered. "My cunt is dripping wet. My clitty is burning hot My love hole is a deep, dark pool that lusts for your mighty cock. Do with me what you want husband, for I am quivering with carnal desire, with the thrill of sexual excitement"
"Then off with your panties, bitch!!!"
"Yes," she replied and reached for the elastic waistband with her hands. She wiggled her curvy hips and in a second the panties were down to her mid thigh. She looked incredibly voluptuous in this pose, incredibly desirable with her bloomers, stained as they were with the silky vapors of her cunt pulled down her plump loins. She was about to remove them altogether, but I told her to stop.
"Leave them on like that for now," I whispered.
It's funny, but clothes, especially sexy garments, can enhance the female form and make it even more exotic than it would be were it totally unclad. Those yellow panties hanging right underneath her dimpled ass, directly below her furry muff was just the thing to make this afternoon romp a total carnal success.
"Raise that ass of your nice and high," I whispered. "Now spread your legs as far as you can so I can get a good look at that wet puss of yours, the one that our son Brian had so much pleasure from."
"Why are you getting your belt?" she asked when she saw me picking it up off the floor.
"So I can give you a good paddling, my dear wife," I replied, a smile of smug contentment on my face. She turned her head toward me, almost like a little child looking at a parent. Her black hair was beautifully unkempt as it fell in haphazard locks down the side of her face and neck and along the smooth curve of her shoulders. I was hesitant at first, holding the leather strap in one of my hands as I smoothed the other across the cheeks of her buttocks. What a warm, creamy ass she had, just slightly dimpled and tinged with a vague reddish hue. Did I dare beat such an ass? Did I dare inflict pain upon it?
I took the metal buckle of the belt and dangled it between her thighs, letting its coldness rest against the warm fur of Catherine's pussy. She jumped, as though she had suddenly been burned. I paused for a second, sucked in a breathful of air and then raised the leather strap up above my shoulders, doubling it up and administering the first lash in the gentlest of manners, almost like a love tap, which I suppose it really was. I hesitated before the next stroke, but after several minutes of warming up, I was soon moving fast and furious against her naked, upflung bottom. The thick, juicy buttocks soon turned a dark red and before long tiny red welts began to appear on their smooth surface.
Again and again I brought the leather lash across her curvaceous ass. Moments ago it had been so proud and arrogant, so damn sure of itself, resplendent in its unashamed nakedness. Now it was tasting the fruits of humiliation, the bitterness of a hot leather whip. Every time the loud, crackling sound of flesh and leather filled the air, Catherine's hips started to sway, her legs began to shake, her ass began to tremble with what I perceived to be desire.
"Ohhhhhhh . ... Aughhhhhh...." she moaned in a deep, sultry voice, like a bitch in the throes of summer heat. The welts on her backside got deeper and redder and they began to burn like hot fire. This is what the bitch deserved, I thought to myself. This is what she wants.
"Oh, Simon," she cried. "My pussy. Give me a few strokes on my pussy." Her voice was penitent, feverish and filled with the thrill of excitement. "On the cunt," she repeated again and again, as though she was reciting some sacred prayer, as though she was uttering some magical incantation.
So the bitch wanted a beating on the cunt. Well, I would give it to her unhesitantly. This was a game, after all, and so long as I was careful, it didn't matter what either of us did or said.
"On the cunt ... on the cunt." She moaned, almost as though she was asking for a hot cock. I noticed that her thighs were getting tight, that they were opening and closing like the wings of a bird, flapping in a delicious sexual manner. I had come to understand, after having lived with her for nearly sixteen years, what the meaning of this motion was. Whenever I got her excited, Catherine reacted in a similar manner. In the early days, before our marriage, I used to enjoy fingering her in her living room or kitchen or sometimes even in the deserted balcony of a movie theatre. I once even fingered her in a library, protected from view by stacks of dusty books. Her reaction to such tactile stimulation was always the same. First she'd moan, clench her fists together, beat her legs back and forth and then, without much warning, she would cry out as wave after wave of violent orgasm overwhelmed her body.
The same thing seemed to be happening just now, as I brought the tongue of the lash against the mouth of her wide open cunt. Was it possible? Was the pain actually turning her on? Well, I didn't believe it at first, but before many more moments had elapsed, I could see that it was happening. Her pussy was beginning to contract, the labial lips starting to open and close like the mouth of an oyster. She was no longer standing still, but beginning to heave violently, to twist and sway her hips in a most delightful manner. I brought the belt across the red gash of her cunt again and again, not very painfully but hard enough so that she was able to feel it. After several long, hot moments, I noticed that the leather had changed color, had become stained in places as though it had suddenly been brushed across a puddle. In a second I was able to figure out what had made this belt turn wet. It was the juice of her pussy, the puddle that flowed freely from her steamy soup kettle, from her briny cuntal orifice. She was spewing the stuff, that distinct feminine sex lubricant that is so fragrant and tantalizing. .
"Oh Simon," she cried. "Beat my pussy, harder and harder. Make me come, Simon. Use your leather belt to make me come."
I am not the type to refuse a lady's request, and if this is what she wanted, who was I to deny it to her? Her muff was hanging down between her legs, the dark, bushy pubic fur stained with dampness, the moist labial lips glazed with a veneer of pussy come. I aimed the belt between her thighs and beat blindly, murderously, viciously, striking mostly against her loins, but scoring a few direct hits on the wide open pubic orifice.
The clock on the wall said that it was a quarter past two. The rain outside continued unabated and at the very moment that Catherine climaxed, a mighty bolt of lightning tore the sky in half.
Before she had even finished coming, I turned Catherine back over, so that her tits and face were pointed towards the ceiling, so that the lower portion of her anatomy, from the waist down, was straddled over the side of the sofa chair that she had been sitting in earlier.
She was twisting around madly, her hips gyrating, her body contracting and expanding as the throes of orgasm enveloped her torso. While she was getting hers, I would get mine. No, I didn't intend to fuck her cunt That would be too easy and just a bit boring given the current circumstances. Rather I would have that delicious tit fuck that I had talked about before I had administered the beating. Those juicy bubbies of hers were all bunched up so that the space between each was very narrow. I threw my legs around hers, so that my knees surrounded her. Then I bent just a bit and after cupping my palms around the side of her magnificent mamillaries, I drove my hard, hot cock between the two globes. I glided it slowly into the cleavage and then, by thrusting my pelvis back and forth, I began to build up some steam. Her flesh was silky smooth and there was hardly any trouble for me as I pumped in and out, back and forth, ramming the hot tool between the soft and bouncy breast cushions, up past her throat till the cockhead hit her chin and brushed the edge of her moistened lips. Her tongue was hanging out of the side of her mouth in a delightfully erotic manner and long strands of straight black hair covered her cheeks and the side of her neck.
"Oh Simon," she moaned. "It feels so good when you rub your mighty prick across my bubbies. It's heaven to feel your hot dick brushing up against my face. Do it harder ... harder. I want you to come all over me. I want to feel your come juice on my lips, on my tongue, on my face ... on my face."
"You bitch," I whispered, slapping her as I continued the violent thrusts with my pelvis. I was fucking her, if not in the most conventional of manners. Still, I was fucking her body, I was receiving a delicious stimulation from her soft, hot white flesh.
"You're going to come soon," Catherine whispered. "You're going to come just like me. I can feel the first drop already. It's so hot and sticky, so delicious that it thrills me through and through, right to the marrow."
What she said was true. The first drop of pre-ejaculatory fluid had already sputtered out of my swollen cock head and had formed a shiny glaze where it had fallen. Soon there would be more, I thought to myself. Soon there would be much, much more. To be quite honest, I could hardly wait, could hardly stand the slowness of passing time.
My testicles were already beginning to quiver. The soft, thrilling friction caused by rubbing my stiffened penis against her bosom made my heart race faster and faster, till it felt like an overheated motor that was on the edge of exploding. For a moment I thought that I might even burst out of my chest.
I sucked in a mouthful of air, and then another and then still another, as the pace of my movements steadily increased, till my cock was a mere blur as it passed back and forth across her naked titties. Suddenly I found myself gasping, choking, as my head began a feverish spin. My eyes bulged like grapes in their sockets, and then, without much of a warning, the first blast shot out of the needle eye of my phallus like a burst of creamy liquid.
"Oh Simon," Catherine moaned. "I can feel it now. You're coming ... You're coming."
As she said those words, she raised her head and her hands and grabbed hold of my jerking phallus, the cream, gushing all over her palms. She was like a little girl trying to get a sip out of bubbling soda bottle, opening her lips and throwing them around my ejaculating penis.
"That's a good girl," I whispered, patting her gently on the head. Meanwhile the stuff came barreling out of me and before many moments had passed she had sucked me clean as a whistle. I fell to the floor, as though drained of my life fluids, Catherine still clutching my penis in her hands and mouth.
"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" she asked later, after we had lain in each other's arms for several moments.
"And you?" I asked, referring to the beating.
"Yes, I loved it. We must do this again sometime."
"Certainly," I replied, a contented smile on my face. Much had transpired this afternoon, and there was still much that I had to think about. For instance, the revelation about Catherine and Brian had still not completely been assimilated and I was sure that it would take a long time before my feelings about it became completely clarified.
Then, of course, there was the matter of Elizabeth. H she was one who had taken me away from Catherine, then she was partly responsible for what later followed. The question then remained, what must be done with her? Could I possibly ask her to leave? Well, where would she go? Her parents were in the midst of a divorce and she had no home, save mine, to return to. She had become my responsibility and I knew that I could not simply abandon her altogether. This, after all, was not my nature.
There were many, many things whirring around in my head. This had been a maddening summer, one that had caused me much grief so far. I still was not sure how it was all going to be resolved. Suddenly Catherine reached out and touched my hand.
"Finger me," she whispered. "The way you used to. Push the middle one all the way up."
The bitch was in heat again and the time for musings and backward glances was at an end. Later there would be more than enough time for sorting the situation out Now, however, pussy pie was high on the agenda.
CHAPTER FIVE
After careful deliberation, I finally decided that my best course of action was to totally finish my relationship with Elizabeth, which is exactly what I did. In the beginning, that is during the first few days, she tried her best to dissuade me. During dinner, she would play footsie with me under the table. When I passed by her room alone, she had the uncomfortable habit of leaving the door ajar and then appearing in the most flimsy of costumes and on at least one occasion in no costume at all
"Just a reminder in case you want to change your mind," she would whisper and then break into hysterical, satanic laughter.
Don't think that I wasn't tempted. I mean, she was a beautiful girl, quite lovely in every way. Sex with her was a joy, a sheer delight. She didn't seem to cause any trouble, in the sense that she was overly possessive or affectionate at the wrong times-like in front of my wife, for instance. In short, my relationship with her had been a perfect setup, one that I knew was not bound to reoccur in the near future I was therefore quite tempted to resume it and it was only the strongest willpower that enabled me to resist.
After about a week had passed, I noticed that Elizabeth's attitude toward me gradually changed. As I've already explained, at the very beginning she attempted to draw me back into a relationship by the most blatant and overt means. Now, however, she began to display an indifference towards me that at first I thought was merely a ploy and that later I was relieved to learn was an acceptance on her part of my decision. I started to breathe easier, to secretly congratulate myself on the masterful manner in which I had handled the entire situation. Only one thing disturbed me. I noticed that she was starting to get closer to my wife Catherine.
It's hard to say just what it was that bothered me, but there was just something about the way the two of them spoke to one another, about the way they had started throwing their arms around one another's shoulders, about the way they would smile at each other that made me quite uneasy. It didn't take very long before my wildest suspicions proved to be correct It happened this way.
It was a Tuesday afternoon in the last week in August and I had returned from lunch with a violent stomach cramp and quite a miserable headache. Maybe it was the heat? The air conditioner in our office broke down, as such devices are apt to. Maybe it was the clams that I ate at a restaurant? Maybe it was sheer exhaustion from too much constant work? Anyway, I decided at around two that there was no point hanging around the office any longer. The afternoon off would work wonders for me. So, after a short conversation with the boss, I packed my attache case, caught the elevator down to the first floor and then ran all the way to my car in the parking lot on the other side of the building.
It was a really beautiful day and by the time I was up Garden Street, heading toward West Hartford, I was a new man again. The headache had disappeared, the stomachache was a thing of the past.
It was a quarter after two when I arrived home. I almost rang the doorbell to announce my entrance, but then I decided that it would be nice to surprise Catherine. I even thought about a quickie in the living room or in the kitchen, if none of the kids were home. When I entered the house, however, I noticed that things were strangely quiet Had she gone out for the day? Yes, that was it she'd either gone shopping or was playing bridge with her friends. I felt a little disappointed, sort of robbed, because I had looked forward with great relish to a little sweet sex in the afternoon. Instead I grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and sat down with a copy of the local newspaper.
That's when I first heard the sound. It was hardly noticeable, really, and at the same time it was quite disturbing, like the dripping of a sink or the creaking of a bed. I threw the paper aside and went to investigate. When I got to the door of the master bedroom on the second floor, I received the shock of a lifetime. I mean, I just couldn't believe my own eyes, just couldn't believe that what I was looking at was actually taking place. Surely it was all a dream, a figment of my imagination, the feverish fantasy of an overactive imagination.
Yet it was no fantasy but as real as I myself was. There they were, the two of them, sitting on the bed, frigging one another.
Maybe I'd better start at the beginning. The door was ajar, just enough so that I could look in through the crack while, at the same time remaining unseen. Catherine and Elizabeth were on the bed near the window, both still clothed in garments that were in obvious disarray. My wife was wearing a pink skirt and white blouse and her silky black hair was done up in a bun above her head. It looked to me like she had just recently arrived home because she was still wearing her stockings and her black pumps were on the floor beside her.
At that moment, her blouse was tucked out of her skirt, several of the buttons loosened, and her skirt was rolled up to her mid thighs, her lovely white legs splayed while a pair of sensual young hands were climbing along their hot inner surface, massaging and stroking them in a tender and most pleasing manner, rubbing them gently as they made the climb to the crotch of her black silken panties further up.
The hands belonged to Elizabeth, to my naughty niece Elizabeth, who herself was in a disheveled state. Unlike my wife, who was wearing a skirt, she was clad in a pair of worn-out blue bell-bottom dungarees and a purple body shirt that fitted snugly against the smooth, womanly curves of her upper torso. There was a zipper at the neckline and it had already been pulled down to her stomach. One of her breasts had apparently popped out through the opening and my wife's hands were gently caressing it.
Perhaps I should have jumped in right then and there and made my presence noticed. But there was something about the scene that fascinated me, that excited me in a perverse sort of way. Like a peeping torn at a window, I stood by the door, crouched down low, not making a sound as I watched the proceedings.
It was Elizabeth's hands that caught my attention first, for it was she who seemed to be the aggressor, the dominant partner in this unnatural relationship. Elizabeth made Catherine He flat and then rolled her skirt all the way up, so that it was now crumpled smoothly around her waist. Underneath Catherine was wearing nylon stockings that were held up at mid-thigh by four black clasps that were attached to a pair of black silk panties. God, she looked good like that, stretched out on the bed, her legs spread wide open, the deep crack of her cunt visible as an outline against the shiny material at the crotch of her undergarments.
"You feel so soft, Aunt Cathy," Elizabeth whispered, her mouth falling on my wife's lips. The two of them kissed, long, hot and hard. It was an obvious soul kiss, tongues touching the smacking sound of hot lips filling the curtained room.
"Blow into my ear," I could hear my wife whisper.
Elizabeth smiled and then her hungry mouth went for Catherine's neck, for her throat and then to the canal above her right earlobe. As she proceeded to blow into it, her own nimble fingers reached the reinforced fabric at the crotch of Catherine's black undergarments. She began to stroke very softly, to run the palm of her hands across the covered sluice, to apply a delicious friction to its wide surface.
I watched as Catherine's hips began to gyrate, as she began to throw her big ass up in the air and push away at Elizabeth's nuzzled hand. It was as though there was a cock there, as though someone was suddenly pushing a hard, long cock up against her cunt. Her movements were instinctive, full of pleasure and excitement
"Open me up," Catherine whispered, her body still heaving against Elizabeth's long, white fingers. "Open me up and frig me till I can't stand it any longer."
My naughty niece Elizabeth didn't have to be told twice. She made my wife roll over on her stomach and then proceeded to undress her, removing her skirt first and then unhooking her stockings and rolling them down her long, fleshy legs. After stroking Catherine's ass first, she made her get up and then tugged at the elastic waistband of her by now moist panties. Off they went with one stroke and before I knew it, I was looking at raw cunt wet wild and delicious. It was Catherine's cunt and I had gazed upon it many times before. I had fucked it innumerable times, had licked its warm, wet juices with my tongue, had frigged it with my fingers, had performed every possible sexual act upon it. Yet nestled there, between her splayed legs, the deep, wide crack of her muff made my heart jump with joy, filled my insides with an indescribable sort of excitement. It was as though I was looking at it, at the deep sluice, for the first time, as if this was the first occasion that my eyes had feasted on its furry beauty.
"Now I'll take off your blouse," Elizabeth whispered as she patted Catherine's backside. I could tell right then and there who had initiated this arrangement, who the prime mover had been, at whose insistence this scene was being played.
"Yes," Catherine moaned like a drugged creature. "Take off my blouse and my bra. My titties want to be kissed. You will kiss them, won't you, Elizabeth?" my wife asked. "You'll rub them up nice and soft, the way you did the other day."
"Of course, my love," Elizabeth whispered. "Remember how scared you were then?"
"Uh huh," Catherine nodded. "It was my first time ... the first time since boarding school."
"You used to enjoy it then, didn't you?" Elizabeth asked, her hands all the while undoing the blouse, moving with speed and instinct around to the hooks of my wife's brassiere. There was a plucking sound, like the string of a guitar as it snaps apart. Suddenly the brassiere was undone and the cups fell loosely to the carpeted floor.
"What beautiful little bubbies you have," Elizabeth said. "I'll bet that Simon loves to fuck these bubbies, that he loves to take them into his mouth and suck on them. Isn't that true?"
"Ummmmmmm...." Catherine whispered. "Yes, my titties ... he sucks on them ... loves to suck my boobs, loves to rub his big dick on them."
"Yes, of course he does," she laughed, cupping her hands underneath them. They were big, proud and firm, and Elizabeth rubbed fire across their surface with the very tips of her fingers. God, the girl was good. She knew just what to do, just how much pressure to apply, just at what point to squeeze and at what point to release her grip.
"Oh Liz, you do this so well." Catherine moaned. "So, so well...."
"Am I as good as the girls at boarding school."
"Ummmm yes."
I knew the story well. Catherine had told it to me about a year after we were married. There had been an article in the local newspaper concerning the rising phenomenon of Lesbianism among women. Catherine said that the article was ridiculous because there probably wasn't a girl in the world who hadn't had relations with another of her own gentler at one time or other.
She had attended a very exclusive boarding school in Vermont, the Kensington Institute for Young Women. The only man for miles and miles was a black cook who also happened to be a wino so that he was no good at all when it came to satisfying the needs of so many of the young ladies at the institution.
"There were many who would have loved to feel a big black cock drilling up their pussies, filling it with sweet hot come cream," Catherine had explained to me at the time. "But he drank too much and he was quite an unfriendly fellow. So we girls, the ones who had a taste for it, had to rely on our own devices.
"The first time I made it with another girl was during the winter of my junior year. She was a senior, a big buxom girl by the name of Clarise. She was a redhead and she liked to wear boots and tight dungarees and tell dirty stories. A very immodest young lady, I must say. It might surprise you to know that her father is none other than the famous Bentley Salisbury, the radio announcer. According to rumor, she used to sleep with him, which is the reason that she was finally sent away to boarding school by her mother. I don't know how much truth there is to the story, but it ought to give you a good idea of the kind of girl that I'm talking about."
Anyway, according to what Catherine had told me at the time, her affair with Clarise had started in the girls' locker, after swimming practice. The two girls were on the team and it was one of those lazy Saturday afternoons and they had been the only ones practicing in the pool.
"Later, we both ran under the shower, dropping our swimsuits to the tiled floors. I remember the funny way that Clarise looked at me, the way she asked me if I minded soaping her back. Of course I didn't mind. We were both naked, she eighteen and me seventeen and when I touched her shoulder blades she began to move her body slowly, so that her ass began to shake and wiggle."
Catherine soaped her back and before she knew what was happening, Clarise had turned around and had started to caress Catherine's young jutting breasts.
"She held me just like a man, rubbing my nipples with her gentle fingers as the water sprayed on our unclad bodies. I was afraid, I must admit But I was thrilled at the same time. Clarise was so much bigger than me, so much more forceful. Her hips were wide and sexy, and her legs were long and delicious looking. She had a huge pair of breasts, like two large, white globes of flesh, and her nipples were strawberry colored, hard and ripe like pink cherries. The friction of her nipples rubbing against my breasts was incredibly delicious, in credibly beautiful. It felt just like when you take the knob of your cock and rub it against my bubbies."
So that's how it started. Very soon, Clarise's hands were between Catherine's legs, nuzzled up against the slope of her young pussy. She was rubbing and stroking with an expertise that Catherine had never yet encountered in her lovemaking.
"I'd gone out with lots of boys by that time, and I had quite a bit of experience. Some tried to finger me, but in the most awkward manner, causing me nothing but pain and embarrassment. With Clarise, for the very first time, it was different She, perhaps because she was a woman, knew just what I wanted, just how much pressure to apply to my excited snatch, just when to push the finger all the way up into my love hole and just when to draw it back out again. She frigged me like crazy, all the while kissing me hard on the mouth. It was a good feeling when she stuck her tongue into my mouth, when she pushed it down into my throat At first I had thought that I would be revulsed by it that it would make me feel sick or something like that But surprisingly, I found it a quite exciting experience, quite thrilling. When her fingers grabbed my clitty, it was pure heaven, the best thing that anyone had ever done to me in a long, long while."
So it went as the water sprayed down from the showerhead, the two girls locked in a hot embrace. After awhile, Clarise asked Catherine if she was doing anything later that evening and Catherine replied that she would be free.
"In which case," Clarise whispered, "I'm coming over."
And come she did. Again and again and again in a variety of different positions. Both of them came that night, engaging in Lesbian sex till the wee hours of the morning.
"She was quite good." Catherine explained to me. "She undressed me and then sucked my wet pussy till I nearly couldn't stand it any longer. She had a special way with that long pink tongue of hers. She knew just how to run it up and down my pussy, just where to lick for the maximum amount of pleasure. She sucked on my clitty for nearly a half hour, biting the thing, licking it hard till I nearly went out of my mind with excruciating pleasure, with mad desire. Then, just as I was beginning to climax, just as my entire body was suffering from orgasmic spasm, in she pushed it, in she rammed her tongue into the deep vaginal pit. There was music in the background, but I hardly was able to hear it as her tongue worked up and down the rim of my snatch, as it dug deep into the pit, licking the walls of my cunt with a frenzy and ardor that I've rarely had the pleasure of experiencing. She really loved what she was doing and you could see that she had done it many times before.
"In fact, according to what she later told me, there was hardly a girl in the entire school that she hadn't seduced. She even bragged of having made it with Miss Brandywine, the social studies teacher. Anyway, I was inclined to believe her because of the delicious way in which she worked me over, the wonderful way in which she masturbated me, first with her fingers, then with her tongue and finally with a plastic dildo that was shaped like a twelve inch cock. She rammed the thing all the way up my cunny, making me jump with joy, making me cry so loud that I almost awakened some of the girls in the rooms next to mine. It seems, however, that they had seen Clarise with me during supper so most of them had already guessed what would happen later that evening."
Catherine's affair with Clarise lasted only several weeks, as the older girl was possessed of a promiscuous nature and tired rather easily of a familiar snatch. So on she moved, forgetting all about Catherine. There were two other girls in my wife's sex life, both boardingschool companions, one named Paulette and the other Rochelle. Paulette was a slim young thing with a boyish body and Rochelle was a brunete with a cute pixie smile and big wet snatch that, according to what my wife told me, was capable of accomodating an organ of eighteen inches without much trouble.
"She had a real red cunt, a furry cunt that was big enough to take all five of my fingers. Once she even made me rub my titties against the big hole and then she made me fuck her with a long, hard cucumber. She was a weird girl.
"Paulette, on the other hand, had the tightest little puss that you'd ever laid your eyes on. Just a pinkie up her cunt would make her squirm with excitement. She never used to wash, perhaps because her parents were French and it's a French tradition for women never to bathe. I mean, she smelled like a latrine and at first I was quite turned off by her. But after awhile I developed a taste for the thing, for the moist fragrance of her unclean snatch. I used to come just by inhaling its aroma."
As Catherine continued to tell me about her lesbian experiences, I couldn't help detecting a strange note in her voice, a sort of wistful quality that one associates with lost love. We talked about it and I asked her quite bluntly if she ever had the desire to make it with another woman. I mean, now that she'd been on both sides of the fence, wasn't she a bit uncomfortable in a strictly heterosexual role?
"No," she had replied quite simply. "A big cock is all that I crave."
And at least to my knowledge, that had been the case right up to now, right up to the beginning of her relationship with my naughty niece Elizabeth. It was a latent sort of thing, I suppose, and it required just the right mix of elements to set the charge off.
I closed my eyes and tried to remember how it might have started. I remembered that afternoon when Catherine had come to my study to tell me how she had seen Elizabeth masturbating through the partially open door to her room. Perhaps it had been that event, the experience of seeing Liz's exposed muff, of seeing once again a wet piece of snatch that had reawakened Lesbian desires in her. While Elizabeth and I were having our affair, my niece must have ignored Catherine's overtures. After I had broken it off, however, after I made it clear that our affair was finished and that we would no longer be having sex together, my niece became more receptive to the longing in Catherine's eyes. Being a promiscuous little bitch, Liz was ready to do anything for a little swinging sex, not caring very much with whom it was that she swung.
I opened my eyes again and watched the two of them in the dimly fit boudoir-my niece Elizabeth, and my wife Catherine, as they were locked in each other's embrace. Cathy was naked by now, her juicy panties lying in a heap on the floor. Her big breasts were jutting out beautifully, big brown nipples growing at the tip. Elizabeth was still wearing her clothes and I could hear Catherine whisper for her to get undressed.
"Cmon sweetheart," Catherine said. "Strip off those things and let me have a glimpse of your young snatch. I'll bet that you're bald down there, just like a little girl."
"Yes ... I'm certainly not as hairy as you are."
"Don't you like my beaver?" Catherine asked quite impetuously.
"Beaver, oh yes," Liz replied. "It's beautiful. It was sheer heaven running my fingers through it, running my fingers through your raw cunny. You're all wet down there, you know. Wet as a bitch in heat"
"That's what Simon says to me every time he gets ready to fuck me. He calls me a bitch, wet wonderful bitch. He loves my cunny just the way I like his fat cock. I'll bet you that you'd get a real thrill if he ever fucked you. He really knows how to fuck. Any woman would be thrilled to have his big prick making waves in her love hole. At least that's how I feel whenever he does it to me."
"Does he do it often?" Elizabeth asked. She had be gun undressing, getting up off the bed and unbuckling her blue jeans. She pulled down the fly at the crotch and then wiggled her hips as the trousers fell to the floor. You should have seen those legs of hers. They were long and white and incredibly beautiful to look at Underneath she was only wearing a bodysuit which was held in place by three purple snaps at the crotch. She spread her hips, and reached down between her legs.
"Go on," Catherine whispered, her voice trembling as she spoke. I could see that she was as excited as I was at the prospect of viewing my niece's naked pussy.
"Take it off," Catherine moaned, her hand suddenly leaping up from the bed to touch Elizabeth's creamy white thighs. There was a smile on the younger girl's face as she reached for the snaps and plucked them open one at a time till the flaps flew apart to reveal the incredibly beauty of Elizabeth's hairless snatch.
She pulled the bodysuit up over her head and threw the flimsy garment across the room to the bentwood rocker near the window.
"Open up those legs," Catherine whispered.
"Why, what are you going to do?" Elizabeth giggled.
"You'll see," my wife replied. By now she had taken the dominant role and she was the one who was making all the advances. I stared into her eyes, her beautiful black eyes, and then at Elizabeth's lovely green eyes. The two women had bodies that were remarkably different just as their eyes were different. My wife was fuller, bigger, more voluptuous while Elizabeth was thin, possessing narrow hips and by comparison, a very small pair of titties. Which one turned me on more? I must admit that I was playing that game with myself, trying to figure it out. But it was hard. They both looked so delicious, so tempting that I wanted to fuck each, to take my cock and push it into one cunt and then into the other. In fact, I must admit, I was quite tempted to burst through the door at that very moment and jump on top of them. Eventually I knew that this would happen, that this is what I would do. For now, however, I would wait and watch, enjoy the free show that the two women were putting on for me.
"You're tickling me," Elizabeth laughed when Catherine's fingers suddenly reached between her loins, when Catherine's fingers prodded open the moist labial lips that covered the opening of my young niece's juicy pussy. There was a squishy sound that I could hear even where I was standing, the sound of a cunt being eased open, the sound of a love hole being pulled apart by a pair of loving hands.
"You're such a sweet pussy," Catherine whispered, pulling the young girl towards her. She still had one hand up her wet puss while the other was circled around her slim waist. She pulled her close and kissed her lovingly on her belly, on the softness of her smooth crotch. I watched as her pink serpent-shaped tongue darted out of her mouth, as she ran it lovingly across the soft flesh of the young girl's shimmering white body.
"It's so nice to kiss you," Catherine whispered. "You're so warm and delicious that I think that I could kiss you forever and ever if I had to, that I could lass your body all day and all night and still not get tired of it."
"Are you going to kiss my box?" Elizabeth asked. "It feels good when you finger it, when you slide your middle finger into it and then pull it out again, but I think I would enjoy it just as much if it was your tongue that was doing it to me, if it was your tongue that was fingering my love hole."
"Ummmmm, yes," Catherine moaned at the suggestion. Her eyes were beginning to bulge in her head and she looked like she had suddenly fallen into some sort of trance, as though she had suddenly been put under some magical spell.
"Your love hole," she whispered. I'll loss it just the way you want me to. I make you come with my tongue. I'll make your puss go crazy with my big tongue."
And that's just what she proceeded to do. Elizabeth was standing upright, close to the bed, her knees just slightly bent, her hips thrust forward, her legs spread wide apart so that the mouth of her snatch was easily accessible. From where I was standing, I could see her naked ass, just slightly dimpled and perfectly round. The lips of her cunt were hanging down like two dewlaps and before I knew what had happened, Catherine worked her face right up against its surface, her tongue darting out of her mouth at incredible speed as it licked up the savory juices that were dripping out of the blond-haired girl's sex hole.
That feels so nice," Elizabeth whispered. "Lick it all up because there's plenty where that came from. The more you lick, the more juice you'll taste. I'm the juiciest pussy that you've ever tasted, the wettest, wildest piece of cunt that you've ever had the pleasure of sucking on."
Catherine didn't seem to be listening to Elizabeth's chatter, her attention firmly fixed on the job at hand, on the task of fucking my niece's sex box with her incredibly versatile tongue.
First it went around the rim of the deep cavity, gliding across its surface in a very smooth and delicate manner, applying not too much pressure and not too little. She then pried open the dewlaps and slid the eager little tongue into the dank, dark cavern. As she did so, I suddenly remembered all those wonderful times when it was my tongue that had eaten Liz's pussy, when it was my mouth that had savored the spicy flavor of her churning muff. Without even being aware of what I was doing, I felt my hands rubbing against my trousers. My cock was hard as a rock, bursting with raw sexual fervor. I simply couldn't control myself any longer. My fingers reached for the nib of my zipper. Down it went and a half second later out burst my enormous tool, my swollen erection, long, hot and hard and ready for action.
It was red at the tip, jutting upwards and full of warmth and excitement. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine how comfortable I would feel plowing the thing into Elizabeth's wet muff, how lovely it would feel if I could have the two of them at one time, first Catherine and then Elizabeth and then Catherine again. My head began to swim with erotic madness. Should I open the door now, burst into the room and fall on the two of them like a wolf on a flock of sheep? Something held me back. Something kept me frozen in my place, kept my legs from moving. I would wait till later. Meanwhile, I would be content just to watch, to remain silently in my comer, my eyes gazing at the erotic festival taking place on the other side of the doorpost.
"Your cunny is so warm," Catherine whispered, as she looked up for a second, running her tongue across her moist lips. "You remind me a lot of Clarise, the first girl that I ever had sex with. She was always a juicy little pumpkin, always wet and runny, always thrilled when a long, hard tongue played with her puss."
"Yes, a long hard tongue...." Elizabeth moaned. "Put it in me again, Cathy darling. Show me how much you love my cunt. Show me with your mouth and your tongue and your lips and fingers. Do it to me so hard that I can't stand it any longer."
She sucked in a breathful of air, her eyes opening, her long lashes flipping back and forth, her neck tilting to the side as her head leaned gently on her shoulders. She spread her legs wide apart and then she reached out with her hands and patted Catherine's face. By now Catherine was sitting up on the bed on all fours, like a dog, her neck craned, her head stretched, her tongue darting beautifully out of her warm little mouth. I watched as her nostrils flared. She was sniffing something. What?? What was it that she was sniffing so hard?? What was the aroma that was literally making her mouth drool with excitement? I closed my eyes for a second and tried to think back, tried to recall the pleasure of my first encounter with Elizabeth. On that occasion, as during each of our subsequent encounters, I had marveled at the sweetness of her excited vulva, at the sheer culinary delight of her drooling pussy, at the heavenly aroma of her naked sexual genitalia.
"You smell so wonderful down there," I could hear Catherine whisper. "You drive me wild with that sweet love hole of yours. It's been so long since I've gone down on another woman. It's been so long since my mouth has tasted such heavenly snatch."
"Do you like it better than a man's cock?" Elizabeth asked, stroking Catherine's silky black hair with her hands. "Which would you rather do, Cathy? If you had a choice between sucking a big dick and tonguing a mouthwatering pussy like mine-which would you rather do?"
Catherine thought for a second and then shook her head. She said that it was a hard choice to make as she was fond of both forms of sex and did not want to choose one in preference over another.
"I'll get it when I can," she whispered and without so much as a word of warning she reached up and grabbed Elizabeth around the waist and pulled her down on the bed. They rolled around on the covers for a second, giggling and laughing like two schoolgirls, flesh burning against flesh, hands groping for pleasure, mouths kissing tenderly, teeth biting, tongues licking excitedly.
"You have such wonderful little bubbies." Catherine whispered.
"They're smaller than yours," the girl replied. "But they really get turned on when they're being kissed, when a pair of hands are stroking them, when a pair of fingers are squeezing and caressing them."
"You suck my boobs and I'll do the same for yours," Catherine whispered obscenely.
"It's a deal." Elizabeth laughed.
Before another second elapsed, the room was filled with the sound of slurping tongues. The two of them were going at it hot and heavy, Catherine sucking on Elizabeth's nipples, Elizabeth biting Catherine's hot mammaries. Their hands too were busily at work, each fingering the other. And from the way they were doing it, the easy manner with which they touched each other's heat, it was quite obvious that they had become quite familiar with one another in the last couple of days, that this was not the first or second time that they had gone to bed with one another.
"Ohhhhhhhhh...." my wife moaned ecstatically.
"Ummmmmmmmm, yes," Elizabeth replied. "Very, very nice."
"Did you bring the thing?" Catherine asked, her palm nestled against her lover's sex box.
"Yes, it's in the bag over there. Shall I do you with it now, or would you prefer my tongue?"
"The machine," Catherine replied. "I'm in the mood for it."
There was a large white box on the night table near the bed and while I had noticed it before, I had just thought that it contained either cosmetics or clothes or some such thing that Catherine had forgotten to pack away in her ardor for my niece Elizabeth's sexy young body. As it turned out, this box contained a plastic bag and the plastic bag contained an enormous twelve-inch vibrator, one that was equipped with not one but two erect heads. God, it was a life-like thing. From where I was standing, it looked almost real as though it had been removed from some man's body and would now be used by the two woman whenever they wanted it
"This is a wonderful little model I bought yesterday at a sex shop in downtown Hartford," Elizabeth explained. "It cost me twenty-nine ninety-five, but it has built-in safety features, and of course," she paused for a second, "and of course it has this special feature, two heads."
"Yummy," Catherine drooled. "Are you going to stuff both of them up my hole?"
"No, I've got a better idea," Elizabeth laughed. "What??"
"You'll see darling," Elizabeth replied. "Just trust me and you won't be disappointed."
"Yes, I'll trust you. What do you want me to do?"
"Lie down on the bed."
"Like this?"
"Yes, that's perfect."
"Now what?" Catherine asked.
"Spread your legs and draw in your knees."
"Like this?"
"Beautiful," Elizabeth smiled. She then took the vibrator, and after kissing each of the appendages, she very dexterously stuffed one deep into Catherine's moist vaginal orifice. I watched as Catherine sucked in a mouthful of air, as her body suddenly tensed when the intruder entered her love hole. What would she do with the other head? I wondered. It was quite malleable, made of a soft plastic or rubber and shaped like a thick, heavy bullet.
"Now what?" Catherine asked.
"Lift up your ass," my niece replied.
"My ass? What are you going to do?" Catherine asked almost incredulously. "You're not going to ... P"
"Just lift up your ass and don't ask so many questions," Elizabeth commanded.
"But it's so big."
"Don't you like it big??"
"But in my ass?"
"Don't you like getting fucked in the ass?"
"Um, yes...." my wife crooned and then did as Elizabeth ordered, lifting up her buttocks, raising them off the bed as my niece shoved the second head of the black vibrator into her rosy-colored anal orifice. Now that both ends were in, she bent over and kissed Catherine on the mouth.
"Lie back darling and relax," Elizabeth smiled. "I'm going to send you off on a trip."
"Whoopeeeee...." Catherine cried out as Elizabeth pushed the electric button. The thing began to buzz and shake violently, Elizabeth very gently moving it back and forth to simulate the motions of a thrusting cock. Meanwhile Catherine was beginning to shake, her hips gyrating madly, her ass heaving back and forth, her loins closing together tightly, as though she did not want to lose the enormous tool that was even at that moment pounding away at her runny cunt, at the moist insides of her vaginal cavity.
"Shove it in deeper," Catherine begged. "Put it all the way up. Give me the whole thing."
"You sure you can handle it, baby?"
"Sure," Catherine cried. "I like it long and hard and exciting."
"Then here goes," Elizabeth whispered, and she shoved it in deeper. "How does your ass feel?"
"Like I'm not going to sit for about a week," Catherine laughed.
"Don't you like getting fucked in the ass?" my niece asked. "I just love it when Si ... when a man puts his hot cock up my asshole."
I suddenly began to tremble. Elizabeth had almost inadvertently said Simon, my name. She had almost given our secret away. Luckily she had caught herself in time. Catherine appeared not to have heard the blunder, so thrilled was she by what was happening to her, so thrilled was she by the rotating action of the two vibrator heads.
"Ride 'em cowgirl," Elizabeth laughed. "You really look like you're having a good time. It makes me jealous. I wish I had something to play with myself. God, but I could use a hard prick up my pussy."
I don't know exactly what it was. Maybe it was the words that she said or the way she said them, or the sight of that machine digging away at my wife's hungry vulva. But suddenly I was on fire. I couldn't hold back any longer, couldn't control the incredible sexual urge that was building in my body.
I suddenly grabbed my throbbing hard prick in the palms of my hands and I began to massage it ever so gently, watching the two women all the while as I beat the hot meat, as I ran my hands up and down its erect surface. My balls were beginning to tingle, my head was beginning to spin with wild, feverish delight.
Suddenly my elbow smashed against the wooden door. It was an accident, I assure you. I had not wanted to alert the two women of my presence, had not wanted them to know that I was watching their strange sexual practices. But in the heat of the moment, my arm slipped and the door went crashing open. I don't know who made a funnier specimen, me with my dick in my hands or Catherine and Elizabeth sitting there on the bed, playing with their electric machine and with each other.
For a second the three of us looked at one another, like little children caught in a mischievous act. The damn vibrator was still (hilling away, but Catherine seemed not to notice it, her eyes fixed intently on my enormous phallus, her tongue hanging out of the side of her mouth in a strangely erotic manner.
"You were watching?" Catherine asked softly.
"Yes," I nodded.
"How long?"
"A few minutes."
"It looks like he was doing more than just watching," Elizabeth suddenly intervened. "It looks like he was getting his jollies out there peeking through the door. Look at that big piece of meat of his."
"Yummy," Catherine whispered. "It's a good hard cock."
"You were playing with it, weren't you?" Elizabeth laughed. "Just like a naughty little boy. You were masturbating out there while I was frigging Aunt Cathy's pussy with this electric machine."
I nodded
"Why didn't you knock like a gentleman and come in?"
"I don't know."
I'll bet that you'd just love to join us," Liz whispered. "Yes," I replied. "It sounds like a swell idea."
"Then drop your pants and hop aboard." Which is exactly what I proceeded to do.
CHAPTER SIX
Catherine eyed me in a funny way, as though she somehow disapproved of the eagerness with which I accepted Elizabeth's invitation. I didn't really care, unbuckling my belt, letting my trousers and shorts drop in a heap on the carpeted floor. After unlacing my shoes, and throwing off my shirt, I was naked as a jaybird.
"What a nice-sized tool your husband has," Elizabeth whispered. "I wouldn't mind having that inside of me."
Was Catherine jealous? I wondered. She certainly seemed to be, especially after I threw my arms around Elizabeth's waist and pressed my lips to her mouth. She sort of sneered, her hand reaching out for my erect phallus. The vibrator was still stuffed in her ass and her cunt, and still buzzing away like mad. I reached out with my hand and stroked Cathy's breasts, massaging her nipples very tenderly, applying a delicate friction to their surface.
"Relax darling," I whispered. "You needn't be so damn jealous. After all I'm the one that has the right to be angry, finding you here with Liz like that."
"Yes, I'm sorry, I couldn't help it," Cathy explained. "She's so sweet, isn't she?"
"Yes," Liz whispered. I'm a sweet little girl, aren't I? Everyone finds me irresistible."
"Yes," I nodded. "We certainly do."
"You're not going to be angry at me?" Catherine suddenly asked me. "You're not going to be mad at me because of this."
So that was it. She was afraid that after having told me about Brian, this new development would be the straw that breaks the camel's back. Somehow, I wasn't at all disturbed by what I had learned about my wife's newly found Lesbian appetite. Everyone's entitled to a change of pace, and as long as it didn't become one of those permanent things-and I had no reason to believe that it would-I wasn't at all unhappy about this affair. In fact, it seemed to be working to my advantage because I now had not one, but two women in the sack with me.
"Listen," I whispered. "You seem to be getting off on that vibrator and poor Elizabeth has nothing inside her. I think I'm going to take my prick and shove it into her pussy. How does that sound?"
"Yummy," my naughty niece replied, smacking her lips in an obscene manner.
"Is it all right with you, Cathy?" I asked.
"Yes, of course, darling. Only kiss me on the mouth first Put your tongue inside my mouth and then give me a nice wet one down on my puss."
Which is exactly what I did. A long, loving kiss on her lips and then one between her thighs, pulling the vibrator out of her vulva as I bent over to mouth her sex, to insert my tongue into the deep pit of her pubic orifice. Soon I pressed the vibrator back into the hole and Cathy leaned back, heaving and shaking as the thing violently mauled her body.
"Hold it Cathy," I whispered. "Hold it and watch me fuck Liz."
"You fucking her...." she muttered. "Yes, I'll watch. You fuck her and this machine will fuck me. How yummy it will be."
I didn't wait for any preliminaries. There was no need for any. Elizabeth was pretty hopped up from all the excitement and I could see that what she needed was a nice hard cock. I knocked her down against the bed and climbed on top of her like a stallion on a mare.
"You're so rough," she whispered. "So rough..
My mouth kissed her face, her soft green eyes and her lovely pink lips. Her body was incredibly warm, delicious, just ripe for fucking, just ripe for a good screwing. Her breasts burned into my chest like hot coals.
"Put it in me, Uncle Simon," she cried, as my hands reached under her ass. The ass cheeks were firm and yet soft and succulent. I pushed my fingers into the deep furrow. She was nice and moist, nice and warm. I searched for her anal cavity, digging my big middle finger into its incredible depth while at the same time pushing my knee between her thighs, opening her up like a clam.
"Oh god, Simon," she cried. "It feels so good when you frig my ass like that. When are you going to do the same to my cunt? It's been so long, Simon, so damn long."
So the bitch missed the way I fucked her. That was definitely a good sign. I plowed my hard cock between her thighs, guiding it up to the mouth of her cunny, inserting the head just a little bit and then thrusting with my hips and loins as I heaved the thing all the way into her sex. She exploded almost instantly like a firecracker, sucking me deeper and deeper into the churning whirlpool of her vaginal orifice, chewing my cock with the teeth of her cunt, with those soft, incredibly strong muscles of her womb.
It was like old times for me. I had been here before and now I was back and it was as good as ever. How could I ever have given up such good pussy? How could I ever have broken off my affair with her? God, she really knew how to fuck, she really knew how to make a man feel like a man, to work over his cock with that lovely cunny of hers.
It was all instinctive too, spontaneous, her hips and thighs and ass gyrating in unison, moving to the rhythmic assault of my embedded organ. I fucked her like that for almost ten glorious minutes, shoving my hot cock in and out of her womb, filling her body with its thickness, with its warmth, with its wild lust Pretty soon I was right on the brink of orgasm, near the top, my eyes swimming in my head. I could tell that Elizabeth hadn't arrived yet, and although I tried to hold myself back, I simply didn't have enough willpower. The semen went barreling out of my cockhead like water from a fire hose.
The funny thing is that the sight of me thrashing around like that, the sight of my pole imbedded in her cunny, the sight of my pelvis thrusting, my cock exhausting itself inside of Elizabeth's young and eager pussy caused my wife, who was sitting besides us, to suddenly gasp for air. A second after I climaxed, she gave a scream that I knew quite well from previous experience, the scream of the breaking of the floodgates and the release of a mighty orgasm.
"It was the sight of you doing it to her," Cathy said when it was over. "It made me crazy."
I kissed her hard on the mouth. I pulled the vibrator out of her body and then I dangled it in front of Elizabeth whose tongue darted out immediately when she saw it
"Do you want both heads?" I asked.
"Ummmm yes," she nodded. "While you're doing it to me, I wonder if Aunt Catherine would mind sitting on my face."
"On your face, darling," Cathy exclaimed. "Whatever for?"
"You know ... a nice used-up cunt tastes ever so yummy, ever so delicious. I want to smell that wet hole of yours, I want to lick the sex juice off your labial lips. I want to feel your clitty on my tongue, on my lips, between my teeth."
"Will you bite, darling?" Catherine asked.
"Oh yes, dear Auntie," Elizabeth replied. I'll bite it just the way you like it. I'll make you come again with my mouth, with your cunt sitting on my face, while dear Uncle Simon uses that big machine with the two heads to make me come."
"Lovely," Catherine whispered. Then she turned to me. "Do you mind, darling? Do you mind terribly if I sit on Liz's face, if I push the wet slope of my hot muff up against her mouth?"
"Whatever turns you on," I laughed, for I was in a most relaxed frame of mind and did not care very much what it was that she did, so long as she had fun doing it, so long as we all had fun at what we were doing.
Catherine then stood up on the bed, spread her legs, and then squatted over my niece's face, brushing the exposed mouth of her snatch across my wife's nose first and then bringing it to rest against her lips. I could see that Elizabeth was not inexperienced at the art of cunnilingus, that is, the art of eating another woman's pussy, for her tongue darted out like a serpent, defying gravity as it rose up in the air and slithered into my wife's warm sex nest.
In the meanwhile I worked the heads of the black vibrator into Elizabeth's cunt and ass. It went in really easily, sinking into each cavity, into the plush depths of her body, like a pole into soft dough. She literally engulfed the thing, as she had engulfed my upraised cock only moments ago. I pressed the button and we were off to the races, both my wife and my niece gyrating like mad to a wild, erotic music that seemed to swirl in the air.
In my ardor to get into the room earlier on, I had done one thing wrong. I had neglected to shut the door behind me. One should certainly not leave bedroom doors open when one is having sex, especially if one has a fifteen-year-old son with a hearty libidinous appetite of his own.
It seems that Brian had just returned from baseball practice and he was quite tired when he heard the ruckus coming from the upstairs bedroom, much the same way that I had heard it about an hour before.
Being naturally curious, he went up to see what was going on.
What he saw was a strange tableau, his father sitting on the bed, fucking Elizabeth with a vibrator while his mother was sitting on Liz's mouth and pressing her pussy against the young girl's face. At first Brian appeared shocked, but soon shock was turned to wild ardor. Without even asking for permission, he dropped his trousers and shorts and jumped onto the mattress with us.
"Mom," he whispered. "You look so beautiful like that Your titties look glorious. I want to kiss them."
"Then kiss them," Catherine whispered.
There was a strange sensation in the pit of my stomach as I watched my own son mouthing my wife's glorious nipples, as his hands mauled her breasts, as his lips and tongue explored the rolling surface of her white hot marnrnaries. He was a well-hung boy for a fifteen year old, and his cock was long and lean and throbbing with energy.
"You beautiful, beautiful boy," Catherine whispered, her free hands swinging out toward his naked phallus. She held it firmly, patting it on the head the way you would pat a Utile puppy dog, squeezing it warmly in her fist running her hands back and forth along its surface, pulling on the member, applying a delightful friction to its veined flesh.
"Oh gosh Mom," the boy whispered. "Can I put it in your mouth? Can I take my prick and stick it between your lips?"
"Ask your father," Catherine replied.
"May I, Dad?" the boy then asked.
It seemed like a strange request really, almost ludicrous by any standards. Imagine a son asking his father for permission to stick his prick into his mother's mouth. And yet, given the unusual circumstances in which we seemed to find ourselves at that moment, it was a quite natural request, quite in keeping with the general debauchery that filled the air. So after a moments hesitation, I nodded.
"Yes, of course, Brian," I whispered.
"Thanks Dad," the boy smiled brightly and then thrust his pelvis outwards and inserted his long, lean organ between my wife's lips. Needless to mention, she seemed quite thrilled, sucking the thing in, chewing away at it deliciously, licking the member with her tongue, biting on it with her sharp white teeth. It didn't take him long to come, either, his cock bursting with semen, with the hot flow of rich white cream as my wife applied the incredibly hot suction power that seemed to vacuum the stuff out of his genitals just as an ordinary vacuum cleaner will draw dirt out of a rug.
Just as the boy was ejaculating, Elizabeth began to stir as well. In a matter of several minutes, her body erupted like a volcano, a rich, tasty sex smell emanating from her heaving vaginal orifice. She started to scream at the top of her lungs, to wiggle her hips and gyrate her lower torso, to move violently as she tried to twist off of the bed, to throw my wife off her and break loose.
It was a lovely afternoon, and the four of us engaged in fast and furious sex. At one point, I diddled with Elizabeth's snatch watching as my wife played with Brian's ripe cock, as she ate his penis with an ardor that I have rarely ever seen.
I whispered into Catherine's ear: "Go mount him, darling. Get on top of the boy and show me how you fuck him."
She obeyed me readily, getting on top of him, lowering her moist, ravaged cunt as she took his big prick inside of her body, as she sucked the head and then the rest of the enormous tool into her vulva, into her hungry little muff. It was a long and thin cock and it looked lovely as it buried itself inside of her, with me just inches away from the two of them, sitting close up as I watched the boy ravage his mother, as I watched my own son fuck my darling little slut of a wife.
I pushed Elizabeth onto her back, my cock by now wild with lust, long, hard and excited with pleasure. I plowed into her savagely, kissing her mouth, fondling her nipples, caressing her breasts. Lovely Liz, the girl with the blond hair and green eyes. All the time I was fucking her, I watched a cock going in and out of my wife's cunt, sliding into the hole deliciously, filling me with a lust that I can honestly say that I had never experienced before with anyone. Why this should be, I don't know. Why I should be so turned on by the sight of my wife being fucked by Brian is probably the subject for an entire book, another book when I get the chance.
By six-thirty that afternoon we were all sated as far as sex was concerned. I had come four times, my son three, Elizabeth and Catherine climaxing five and seven times consecutively. We lay on one another for awhile and then my wife asked who was hungry. Brian said that he was and pretty soon we decided to go out to dinner.
First we took a communal shower, got dressed, and then hopped into the station wagon and drove to a fancy French restaurant called he Moulin Rouge in downtown Hartford. I ate two sixteen-ounce steaks, among other things. We were back at the house by nine thirty and no sooner did we enter the living room than I leaped onto my wife, pulled her down to the floor, throwing up her skirt, tearing off her panties and digging in with my mouth and fingers, scooping up her moist sex hole with my tongue and lips, examining and exploring it before I finally dropped my trousers and fucked it.
The four of us went hot and heavy at it. At one point we made a sandwich out of Catherine, me fucking her in the ass while my son Brian fucked her in the cunt. We did the same to Elizabeth a little later on, and while we recovered our strength between bouts, the girls entertained us with their insatiable lust frigging one another, eating one another, using the machine, their fingers, their mouths, their tongues to climb to the peak of sexual ecstasy.
We didn't get to sleep till the wee hours of the next morning and when I awoke to go to work I felt like I had run the marathon, so sore was my body, so much did my muscles ache. I can't say that I was complaining, however. The rewards were well worth any discomfort I later experienced. And I do mean well worth it!
EPILOGUE
The new arrangement between myself, Catherine, Brian and Elizabeth was good for a couple of weeks but contained within it the seeds of its own destruction. I mean, in spite of what had happened, none of us could entirely divest ourselves of the feeling that what we were doing was basically wrong.
I mean, one morning it hit me like a sledge hammer. I was sitting in the kitchen, drinking coffee and glancing at the Sunday paper when in walks my son Brian, a loose robe thrown around him, nothing on underneath. My wife, Cathy, was wearing a purple housedress and slippers, standing by the kitchen and frying up some bacon. Without so much as a word of warning, Brian snuck up behind her, threw his arms around her waist and kissed her hard on the back of her neck. Soon his hands had lifted her dress up and were pulling off her silken undergarments that fitted tightly against the curving bulge of her hips and ass.
"I want to fuck you, Mom," he whispered as he dived into her furry snatch with his middle finger. Without waiting for a reply, he dropped his robe and his big, churlish prick pounced arrogantly upon her, climbing hotly between her legs and then sinking into the warmth of her soft, swollen sex nest, I watched as the blood boiled inside of me. The little prick! How dare he assault her like that, while I was watching yet. I wanted to get up and smash him in the teeth, to grab him by the scruff of the neck and shake a little sense into him.
Catherine, too, was beginning to feel rather uncomfortable about this new arrangement. Not that she didn't like it when Brian went diving into her muff. She loved fucking him, enjoyed it with a fiendish ardor. Yet, she found, that allowing him to have sex with her broke down the distance between them and soon he was no longer regarding her as an authority figure, refusing to obey her instructions, laughing at her when she demanded that he do his chores or run an errand.
Catherine also found that Elizabeth was getting to be a big pain in the ass. The girl, like Brian, suddenly thought that she could get away with anything, that there was nothing she could not do. For example, she would insist on throwing wild parties for her friends, the young couples openly engaging in illicit sex, drinking and taking drugs and laughing when either I or my wife warned them to stop. Neighbors started complaining. We began to receive strange phone calls. Our lives became quite chaotic, quite confused. I even found this being reflected at my job, where my work was beginning to lapse. H this went on any longer, the consequences would be terrible. So after discussing it with my wife, we decided that it would be best if something was done immediately to nip it in the bud.
Our solution was quite a simple one. Brian, who had always wanted to go away to a boarding school, was granted his wish and sent to a military-style academy in Vermont. Elizabeth was enrolled in a girl's school in New Hampshire several days later and by the middle of September the two of them were out of our hair and out of our lives. As for us, Catherine and me, we had learned quite a lesson from what had occurred that summer.
Our sex lives, till then, had been too restricted, altogether too monogamous. What we needed was a bit of variety, something to spice it up. Catherine and I did some asking around and we soon found that a swinging little community flourished right in our midst, right under our eyes.
There was a club of about twelve different couples that got together on a weekly basis at one another's houses. Instead of playing bridge or some other idiotic card game, they had more fun playing sex, swapping wives and husbands. We became the thirteenth couple in this group and were quite happy about this new arrangement. It made our lives more varied, added excitement where tedium was beginning to grow. In short, this was the perfect solution for us.
I wish that I had time to tell you about our adventures as swingers. But even at this moment I hear the doorbell ringing. The Andersons and the Waterfords are dropping by for a little serious fucking and I would be a terrible host if I didn't go down to meet them. And I do mean go down. Especially with Karin Waterford.
Anyway, till my next book when I relate the adventures my wife and I had as swingers, let me wish you the best of everything. May your cock ever be hard and may pussy ever be plentiful for you.
