"Normal" is a frequently used word, yet a word whose exact meaning is as elusive as the term "perverse". What those two words imply seems to vary from nation to nation, from community to community, from person to person.
Among one African tribe it is considered obscene to expose one's back to others, in many Eskimo communities it is the height of hospitality for a man to offer his wife to a guest.
Lorna Parker and her brother Ken outwardly appear to be two average middle-class Americans. Yet the two of them indulge in behavior that many others would consider abnormal; indeed, the two of them commit what, in many societies, is among the oldest taboos known to man. But who is to say whether either or both are normal or perverse?
HONEY MOON WITH SIS-a novel of major interest to any who hope to find and define their own standards of correct behavior. A page of our restless society as food for serious thought.
-The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
When she heard him come through the front door, Lorna put out her cigarette. She squirmed on the bed, arranging the sheet so that it just covered her nipples, and then she waited. He'd be in here sooner or later, and when he arrived, she'd be ready. Lorna smiled.
"Hello, darling," she said as he came into the bedroom. He was just taking off his shirt, and she loved the broad, lightly furred expanse of his chest. In her mind she was already fingering and sucking his tight male nipples, arousing him to readiness before her hand ever ventured south to the lump of his cock.
He stopped in the doorway. "Oh, my God," he said. "What are you doing here?"
Lorna raised her eyebrows. "What am I doing?" she mimicked. "I think I'm lying in bed waiting for you," and she smoothed the wrinkles in the sheet. "Is there something unusual? Am I wearing a purple wig or a fake nose or a gorilla mask, perhaps? It should be perfectly obvious to you what I'm doing, Ken."
He made a half-turn. "This is too much, Lorna. Don't you know when enough is enough? Get out of my bed and out of my apartment and-"
"And out of your life, darling? Is that what you were going to say?"
Lorna threw aside the sheet and lay quietly, her pink body shimmering against the pale lime bed clothing. The table lamp spread an oblique pattern of light and shadow across her figure and she was content to bask in that muted glow, knowing that he would turn, sooner or later, that he would let his eyes drift up and down her frame, taking in what she had to offer.
"Stop it, Lorna," he said, pretending not to look.
"Stop what, dear?" she replied innocently. "I'm not doing anything."
She sat up, her tits jiggling. The nipples were pink, large, and erect. Her feet eased to the floor and she went to him, one slinky hand touching the back of his head. He seemed to recoil at her caress but he didn't move away from her. Loma moved her fingers through his hair, rumpling it, massaging his scalp, and she pressed herself against his side.
Her warm, stiff nipples grazed Ken's ribcage.
"What's the problem, sweets?" she cooed, standing on tiptoe to whisper in his ear.
She put her other hand on his bare stomach and tested its muscular hardness. A tad farther south there was a different kind of musculature, she was too well aware, and it had a hardness all its own, a hardness she loved and craved. Very gradually her rubbing hand moved towards his crotch, so slowly and carefully that he seemed not to realize what she was doing until she had him by the cock.
"Oooooh," she admired, "I can feel how excited you are, darling. Your cock's getting all hard and horny for me. Mmmmmm- do you like it when I squeeze your cock? Of course you do. God, it's hard! Take me to bed right now and fuck me!"
"Stop it, Loma!" he barked, but without conviction.
She knew him too intimately to be deceived. He was about to yield, the way he always yielded, the way he would always surrender to her. She unzipped his trousers and worked her hand inside, nibbling on his jawbone as she did. Almost before she knew it, his hand was around the small of her back, holding her to his body. Lorna sighed against his face and angled in closer, twining her legs around one of his. She moved in a slight up and down jiggle that did extremely enjoyable things to the tingly lips of her cunt. Rough-textured slacks were the nicest things a man could ever wear, she reminded herself as the fabric sawed upon her twat.
"You're getting me wet," she panted. "I'll leave pussy stains all over your pants. Why don't you take them off? Or, even better, let me take them off for you?" And with no further ado, she'd extracted her hand from inside his trousers and was moving onto her knees, reaching up for his belt.
"Undo here," she said, "and a little pullsy-wullsy, and-voila!"
His trousers fell to his ankles and she helped him step out of them. She looked up. His shorts were poked out in front already, and she knew damned well he wasn't anywhere near full erection.
"You're nothing but a cunt, Lorna," he groaned, petting her hair. She rose on her knees, tracing the outline of his cock with her fingers.
"I'm all cunt," she agreed, "and you dig the hell out of it. So don't cast any stones in my direction."
She breathed warmly across the bulging nylon and the cock inside the skimpy covering seemed to shiver in response. Leaning closer, she touched the distended shorts with the tip of her tongue, purring as she felt the throb-throb-throb of hot blood that kept him on the verge of full arousal. And now, she knew, he was totally lost. He'd never been able to put up a convincing resistance-not once she started using her mouth on him.
"To bed, damn you," she told him. "I want to be laid, not used like a hooker in a hallway too narrow for a decent screw."
She stretched out first, kicking aside the sheet and making room for him. Ken came towards her, pulling down his shorts as he walked. The long, thick snake of his cock flopped free, bouncing. Each step seemed to add a fraction of length and stiffness to his tool, and it began a continuous rise as Lorna smiled her approval from the bed.
He stopped beside the bed, removing his shorts completely, and she took hold of his prick She squeezed it vigorously and his prick hardened completely, almost at once.
"Oh, that's a lot nicer," Lorna trilled, jerking on Ken's cock, pulling him onto the bed beside her.
One of his arms curled, and she eased herself into it. He tightened the embrace, much as she was tightening the grip of her fist on his rod, and she risied her mouth for kissing. Her lips were already moist with the saliva of anticipation, and his kiss, when it came, was as eager as she had hoped. Lorna opened her mouth delicately and allowed his tongue to come inside. They rolled into a side-by-side, one of her legs thrown across his thigh, his arm riding low on her body, her hand stroking his face while she went down on his tongue. Down below, his cock swelled in her fist as if it were jealous of the blow-job she was giving his tongue, as if it were crying aloud for some of the same.
"It's much more pleasant when you don't fight," she panted into his face, releasing his tongue. "Because you want it as much as I do, darling. I'm still your big sister and you're my ripe, very ready kid brother, and we can make beautiful music together. Can't we? Hmmmmm?"
"Yes, goddamn it!" he bellowed as if he were in pain. From the force she was exerting on his prick, he might well be. Considerately, Lorna eased up her pressure just a trifle. His prick felt so hard she was afraid of breaking it in half, and what a tragic waste that would be!
"Did Barbara give you any this evening?" Lorna asked cattily, alternating the words between soft nibbles at his lips and chin. "Or did she make you go home with a big, juicy hard-on? Tell me all about it, darling. Is that girl treating my little brother the way she ought to?"
"Don't," he warned. "Don't mention her."
"All right," Lorna conceded. "I don't suppose you've ever gotten around to confessing about us, have you? No, I could tell. You're afraid she'd be shocked out of her square little body, that she'd scream 'Unclean! Unclean!' and run away in horror. But you get so much harder and hotter when I bring up Barbie. My God, isn't that sweet! You're Ken and she's Barbie! Maybe I should buy you a little dollhouse of your own for a wedding present. Hmmmm? Oh, don't talk, darling-make love to me, the way I like it best!"
And she took him by the head, guiding his mouth towards the erect beacons of her nipples. Ken needed little in the way of force. Her teats grazed his lips, then disappeared into his wet mouth -as he began to suck and chew the ends of Lorna's tits. She sighed and moaned, clutching his head to direct him at his work, and she felt his tongue flutter endless butterfly patterns around the tip of her nipple. His teeth clenched, but lovingly, the flesh of her boob, and she strained against him, offering more of the ripe jug.
He put his hand between her legs, the side of a finger rubbing up and down her puckered gash, and she worked her thighs in response. Cunt-juice was oozing from her hole already. Was this a new record for them? Had he ever gotten her so ready with such a trifling amount of foreplay?
She didn't think so. Her pussy was snapping and dripping already, eager to be crammed full of his cock. But how much of it was Ken, and how much of it was the situation? After all, Lorna conceded, this was the first time she'd ever dragged him into bed on the eve of his wedding.
Still sucking her tits, one after the other, he moved his fingers vigorously in the tawny puff of Lorna's beaver. She twisted her cunt on his stroking hand, uttering a choked-off little cry of contentment as one finger wriggled its way between the accepting lips of her cunt. Inside, she was warm and wet and slippery, and his finger skidded across the sensitive folds and nooks of her gash before easing into the clutching mouth of Lorna's cunt-hole.
"There-ah-God, there!" Lorna moaned, rising up the bed as he started to probe, then moving herself down upon his hand to get his finger completely inside her cunt. Her nipple throbbed in his mouth and she held his head more tightly to her tits. One knee shifted position slightly. She felt it bump against the swollen sac of his balls. For a moment his teeth relaxed their clench on her tit, but only for a moment. When he reapplied his pressure, it was with a fierce insistence. She knew he'd leave bite marks on her breast, but she didn't care.
His cock lay hot and hard along the smooth texture of her thigh, and the rim of his knob jiggled from side to side, stimulating Lorna, causing little shudders of pleasure to ripple excitingly through her legs, into her crotch, where they met and blended with the provocatively different kinds of ecstatic tremors his fingerwork was creating.
"Oh, you bastard," she purred, "you haven't forgotten, have you?"
She reached for his cock, trapping its bulging tip between her thumb and middle finger. Closing her eyes, Lorna began to squeeze it mightily, caring not at all if it made Ken groan around her tit, made him jab his finger up her cunt with a ferocious zeal. She could already smell the aroused heat of her pussy, and her tawny beaver was awash with the juices dripping from her gash.
"If you don't stop," he warned huskily, "I'm going to come all over your hand."
"Such a waste," Lorna whispered in reply. "We can't allow that, can we, darling?" She angled his cock downward, sliding her cunt up to meet it. "Take your finger out," she commanded.
He did, allowing his hand to fall away from her crotch. Lorna slid closer, close enough for the tip of his cock to touch her beaver. She seized him about halfway down his shaft and stroked her slit with the big knobby end of Ken's prong, coating it with the oozy juices that her cunt was dripping so copiously. He groaned each time she dragged his cock through her wiry pussy hairs, and she matched him when his prick-head touched the swollen lips of her gash.
He'd done a good job of working her up, but then, he always did. Almost as soon as his dick bumped her swollen slice, Lorna felt her pussy open up like the mouth of a hungry beggar. Her cunt was wet and slick, and her hand had brought his cock into perfect line with her hole. She sighed and pushed her pussy towards him, and then his prick was inside her, slamming deeply.
"All right, little brother," she laughed, "fuck the buns off big sister. Okay?"
"Damn-straight!" he gasped, one arm going around her body, the other clutching at her upper hip bone. Ken pulled her to him, his cock thrusting the rest of the way into her fuck-hole, and as her leg locked around him, their mouths came together in a passionate kiss.
You can lead a horse to water, Lorna thought, and you certainly can make him drink. Especially if you have a hot, wet trough like mine. She'd known it would end up precisely this way, had known it from the moment she bribed the building doorman to let her into the apartment. And hadn't Ken sort of guessed it. too? Did he think she'd be content with drinks and dinner? After all they'd been through together? He must have known who'd be waiting in his bed when he got home.
"Deeper!" she gasped. "Deeper, harder! It's been a long time, baby!"
He gave it to her, so deep, so hard, it made her teeth chatter and her nipples stiffen atop jiggling, wobbling tits. She worked her heel into the crook of his leg and gave him jab after tugging jab, inviting him to maintain the jackhammer-like tempo of his fucking. Her tongue was in his mouth, and he'd brought one hand into play on her tit. His fingers dug into the cushy flesh, pinching the stiff jutting nipple between them, and her tit throbbed and ached in his fist. But it was a lovely kind of aching, and Lorna cooed with the delight of it.
She rocked against him, pussy swallowing up all of his prick. If she could have opened wide enough, she'd have taken his nuts as well as the big rod that grew from them, but some achievements were beyond the power even of a hot, wet, horny cunt like Loma's. Still, she was doing pretty well, by her own standards, and she humped his dick with every ounce of power in her body.
"Don't be subtle," she told him. "Make me come. We can be frisky later."
She spoke with her mouth a quarter of an inch from his, her words vibrating on his lips and tongue, and she could hardly wait until he was kissing her once again.
His cock still slamming, Lorna rode it, willing every restraint from her body. She concentrated all her attention upon the well-filled gap between her legs, reaching down now and then to stroke his dick as it plunged and buried itself, and to caress her clitoral region as well, giving her love-button that precious extra particle of stimulation it needed for early release.
"AHHHHHHH!" she cried, tearing her mouth loose from his. The first jolts of her climax were beginning to vibrate inside her pussy. Lorna clamped her fingers down upon her clit, pushing it like a button as Ken stabbed deeply into her cunt, with ever-shorter strokes. The feeling held-it built-and then it exploded. She laced herself to him, as if her body were a set of tensed steel bands, and she clung to her brother, shuddering with release. Vaguely, distantly, she was aware that he, too, was coming. His cock erupted deep within her cunt, shaking with the jolts that passed through his prick-shaft, but so intense was Lorna's own climax that she could scarcely feel his excited orgasmic plunges.
Her body went momentarily weak and she slumped away from him, groaning for joy. Half his cock was still in her cunt, gone partially soft now that he's spilled his load. She twisted her hips and Ken's dick popped out of her flooded hole. Lorna slid onto her back, legs wide, knees up, and she stared happily at the thick strings of cum dripping from her slit. "Mmm," she said thoughtfully, touching her gash. She rubbed until her clitoris came up once again, and she painted the little bud with some of Ken's excess jism. And she found herself rubbing a bit harder with each successive pass, until the fire which his sperm had doused seemed to blaze up freshly and her legs twitched.
"Again," she told him, "do it again."
"For God's sake, Lorna-"
"I said again!"
She grabbed his dick and twisted it furiously, his partial erection filling up magnificently inside her fist. Ken yelped but he didn't knock her hand away. Instead he seized her by the tits, mauling those pink-capped treasures precisely as she mauled his man-sized tool. She loved to see his cock this way, to feel it growing in her hand, to know that it was ready, willing and able to fuck her to a frenzy. Lorna had lived her life on a moment-to-moment basis; if a whim could be gratified, she would gratify it. Ken represented a sort of constant, the one stable factor in her thirty years of living. He represented a kind of security and she couldn't believe that she was on the verge of losing him.
She reversed herself quickly, grasping his cock in both hands. The tip was red as a ripe cherry, swollen beautifully, and most of his shaft was still sticky-wet from the cum he'd dumped in her pussy. She extended her tongue, gliding it up and down the exposed portion of his meat, and she tasted the fuck-cream smearing his prick. It was delicious, as always, and she lapped with a growing eagerness which did nothing at al! to prevent his erection from hardening.
"God, you make me feel so degraded!" he complained, brushing the hair which had fallen across her face.
Lorna giggled as she sucked the tip of his cock into her mouth, and she felt him shiver in response to the ripple of her laugh.-With one hand cupping his nuts, she fed herself on his prick, opening her throat to let it slither into place. She was proud of the way she could deep-suck a man, and she gave him the full treatment, humming blithely as his cock slid deepest. Her mouth was awash with saliva, as it always seemed to get when she was within smelling distance of a cock. She had seen other women sucking pricks, seen tongues gliding across male tools, those same cocks ramming into female mouths but appearing almost dry until the onrush of orgasm made everything sopping wet. And she really couldn't understand why. From the first touch of her tongue on a cock, Lorna's mouth was dangerously clogged with warm, wet, lubricating spit. She couldn't conceive of eating a dry cock, nor did she want to.
Ken apparently had no complaints. He was groaning, and his hands were on her head, guiding her, directing her, but not trying to dominate. He knew that Lorna would brook no interference with her technique and he seemed content to let her apply her cock-sucking talents more or !less as she saw fit. Besides-she was damned certain he didn't get to fuck a wet, hungry gullet like hers every day of the week. She wondered if his Barbie-doll could give head to this caliber, and she doubted it very much. There was something appealing about Ken's fianc�e, but it was not exactly a come-on sexy aura. For that, Ken had to come to his sister. Or let his sister come to him. Whichever, Lorna was pleased with him, with herself, with all of it.
She removed her mouth from his cock, swallowing a deep toke of air, and she looked at him with spit bubbled on her red-painted lips. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be in a rapture of delight. Lorna grinned knowingly, and she tossed one leg across him, mounting his body in the 69 position. Her cunt came to rest upon his face and she ground it against his mouth until she felt his tongue shoot out to adore her still-sticky gash.
"Right on!" she chirped. "Round Two is now beginning. Don't fail me, little brother. You drink mine and I'll drink yours."
He had her by the ass then, pulling her twat closer to his face, his tongue prodding into her swollen slit. Lorna moaned in approval, then filled her mouth with his pecker. If it could only be this good always, she thought. If only!
CHAPTER TWO
She looked at his sleeping body in the early morning's light, and she liked what she saw. They really did have a strong sibling resemblance, which was only appropriate. Both of them tall and stylishly lean, with trim, conditioned frames, both of them blond and blue-eyed, both of them with strong, attractive faces.
Sure, there were differences. After all, he was a boy and she was a girl. He had a very interesting tube dangling from the clump of pale-brown fur between his legs, and that tube was complemented by the cutest little baggie, which appeared to have a pair of rocks bouncing inside. She had a beaver of nearly the same color, but inside it was something else altogether-a long, deep slit whose puffy outer lips showed among the tendrils of fur. A slit which Ken's tube had entertained very nicely last evening.
His arms and face were a rich summer tan, but the rest of him was much paler, Lorna noticed. It was too damned bad he was the junior partner in his accounting firm, because his two seniors dumped all the work onto him. From the looks of Ken's body, he needed more time outside in the sunlight. She had no complaints for herself on that score. From head to toe her skin wore a perfect coating of gold-not too light, and not too deep either, for that could turn flesh to leather. No, it was just right. The pink of her nipples and navel and gash were set off delightfully by the sun-kissed tone of her skin, and Loma took care not to get any undue exposure now that her goal had been reached.
Sleeping, he looked like a child. But he wasn't. He was twenty-seven years old and the most satisfying man Lorna had ever fucked. Even if he was also her kid brother. But that didn't really matter. You couldn't pick your family, could you? And she'd clicked with Ken from that very first time, years and years ago. Now, it just seemed to get better and better and better. God, to think that he was getting married.
"Tonight," she said aloud, grinning. It was six in the morning. Thirteen hours to blast-off. Would she and Ken ever be this close . again? she wondered. He seemed to think not. All through dinner he'd insisted that it was completely finished, that under no circumstances would any of this ever happen again. And how many hours later had she tugged at his cock and pulled him onto his own bed and fucked him to exhaustion?
"Good morning, little brother," she whispered sweetly, putting her hands on his chest. He stirred, his lips fluttering, but he didn't wake up. Lorna fingered his nipples very delicately, feeling them erect as she plied their little hard tips, and then she bent her head in closely to lick. Again he stirred, and his tears hardened a trifle more as her hand stroked down his stomach, fingers moving into the light-brown clusters of his crotch hairs, onto the base of his dick.
She pushed the sheet down to give herself more room, and his cock erected as soon as she touched it. His eyes were moving beneath their lids, rapidly, from side to side, and she wondered if he were dreaming about her. Or perhaps about his Barbie-doll? Dreaming was such a private thing. You could watch someone sleep and know they were dreaming, but you could never know the topic. Not for sure. She played her fingers on the base of his dick, feeling the large vein as it bulged and swelled, and when his cock was really standing up, hard and thick, she locked her fingers around it and started to shuck up and down in a lingering, sensual caress.
"Mmmmmmm-mmmmmm," he said in his sleep, and Lorna kissed the murmur from his lips. With her mouth on his, and one of her hands on his temple, the other on his dick, she began to awaken her brother. His eyes fluttered open once or twice, sleepy, blurry, and then recognition flooded the blue orbs.
"Good morning," she enthused. "You're up bright and early, aren't you?" and the pressure of her hand on his dick left no doubt what she meant. Ken groaned and took her firmly by the shoulders.
"Not again," he said. "Please. Not again."
"You're silly. You dig it as much as I do. My God, Ken, I don't know what I'm going to do when you get married! That is, if you get married. It's been such a comfort to me, knowing that you were always here whenever I needed you or wanted you or whenever I just felt horny for some of that very special pecker you keep in stock for me. Ooohh, I think your cock's even harder than it was last night! It's shaping up to be a pretty good day, lover. So-"
"Ouch!" he yipped, easing her off him. She moved as he directed, but she didn't surrender her hold on his dick. It throbbed inside her fist and she squeezed to make it throb all the more. "What are you doing to me?" he demanded. "I need to piss. I don't need a goddamned hard-on this time of the day."
"Oh, but I need it," Lorna purred. "And I know all about piss hard-ons. You want to take a leak, but you're so stiff that the golden stream just won't flow, and it aches, but it's such a horny, fucky ache. Let me show you what I generally do, dear."
And with that she was burrowing her face into his crotch, kissing up and down his cock while she stroked it, and Ken was writhing more and more uncontrollably on the bed. God knew she didn't want to be so bitchy, but no man ever died of a piss-hard and she knew damned well that if he had to wait for his relief, that relief would be all the more welcome when it came.
She used her tongue like a cat, and again she wet-mouthed his cock. She dribbled spit onto his hot prick-shaft, then licked it away, and by the time she reached the top of his prong, he'd begun to leak pre-cum. The slitted opening at his tip was damp and she added her saliva to the moisture, tongue-spreading it all over his cherry-red knob. Her thumb and finger locked around his cock just below the corona, and she squeezed the big pecker as if it were a ripe pimple.
"Suck it, if you're going to suck it!" he bellowed in a lost voice, and Lorna just smiled as her tongue continued its precise foreplay. She'd gobbled an orgasm from him last night, plus the two he's spilled into her sucking pussy, and she was hungry for him again. There was no sense torturing the poor love. Lorna opened wide and swallowed her brother's prick.
He was on a very short fuse. It only took three or four deep swallows before his cock shuddered and shot a blast of sperm down her throat. She swallowed, sucking to make him give up whatever residue of fuck-juice he might have in his balls, but the second ooze of his cum was strongly flavored with piss, and Lorna decided that perhaps she'd better stop. For now.
"All right, darling. Your piss hard-on is taken care of. Go empty your bladder and then we'll start the day off with a real bout."
She sat up, wiping cum from her lips and licking her fingers, as he moved onto the floor. His cock was going softer now and she could tell from the tension in this thighs how much her brother craved the piss he was headed for. He started towards the bathroom and, on a whim, she followed, padding along on her bare feet. He tried to close the door behind himself, but she was too fast and, as he angled his cock towards the commode, she was at his side.
Ken pissed into the bowl, throwing his head back at he did. Lorna watched in fascination as the golden shower streamed from the tip of his dick, and she touched his rod while he unloaded.
"Knock it off," he commanded.
"No," his sister replied stoutly. "I like to feel it flowing through you. Look-when I twist your cock, it comes out in two streams. Oooh! Some of it's going onto the floor! Watch your toes, sweets! Is that all? Dear, darling Ken, I could stand here like this all day, just holding your precious cock in my fingers. Wetting them with the last little dribbled of your pee. I wonder if it really does taste all that bad? Have you ever pissed in a girl's mouth? I've been asked once or twice, but I always said 'No-if I let anyone do that to me, it will be my precious Ken.' Aren't you thrilled to know I'm saving the honors for you?"
"You're sick, Lorna. Why can't you let me alone? God in heaven, don't you know when to quit? Why do you make me do these things?"
"Because they're exciting and satisfying and because I like to do them with you," she said. "And if you didn't enjoy it, you wouldn't be so easily seduced. Your cock wouldn't get hard every time I flash it a telepathic communication, like I'm doing right now." She furrowed her brow and glared at the cock which her fingers cuddled in a delicate grip. As she eyed it, the organ began unmistakably to swell, and engorge. "Right on cue," she told him, nuzzling her brother's neck.
He turned, bumping her in the belly with the renewed erection of his prick, and he took her by the shoulders. His face was pale and intense. Lorna lifted as she faced him, lifted onto tiptoes, and she leaned close, allowing her hot stiff nipples to touch him just below the breastbone. Her face was raised, her lips puckering, slightly parted so that her pink tongue snowed between them.
Ken grabbed her by the buttocks and pulled her up against him. His cc-ck felt as if it were afire, grinding against her belly, and his nuts seemed swollen to twice their normal size. Lorna oozed and melted against it, and she wrapped her arms around his waist. One of her hands slid down, catching him by the ass in his turn, and she worked a finger into the crack. With a sly, cunning twist of her hand, she began to dig at his asshole, remembering how wild it had been the first time she ever finger-reamed him. His cock had been in her mouth then, and she was merely experimenting. She hadn't had the slightest idea that her brother's prostate could be massaged by an ass-penetrating finger, but when his cock suddenly burst in her mouth and he shot enough cum to drown a whale-well, she knew she'd done something right. God, she thought, how many years ago was that!
She kissed him wildly, frantically, her tawny mane of hair flipping about uncontrollably, her nipples hardening more and more as they embraced on the bathroom floor. Slowly she became aware that he was moving, that she was moving with him. Something very slick and cold touched her back and she realized that it was the mirror on the bathroom door. He pushed her up against it, still supporting her with his arms, and he ground her into the polished glass as they kissed and rubbed bodies.
"Turn me around," she gasped, "and give it to me from the back! I want to see my face while you're feeding my pussycat."
It was tight, for they were already jammed up against the mirror, but they managed to shift so that Lorna was facing the mirror, her tits crushed against the glass, her legs spread wide, while Ken slicked his hard-on up and down the crease of her pussy.
He pulled his dick upward, into the crack of her ass, and for just a moment she wondered if he might not com-hole her instead. She wouldn't have minded. She loved to be fucked up the ass, and she loved it especially when he fucked her there. But at the moment it was her pussy that ached and yearned for his prick, and she wanted to get fucked in the good old-fashioned way.
"No," she panted, "not there. In my cunt, where you belong!"
He got the message. "Anything you want, I'll give you in spades!" he barked, and again she felt his dong-tip jabbing at the mouth of her twat.
Lorna pressed her tits onto the mirror and she wiggled her butt, opening her legs just a little wider. He moved into the gap she was providing. and his cock pried open her pink-lipped cunt.
"God, yes!" she snapped. "Fuck me now!"
He rammed upward, penetrating her cunt-hole at an angle she found more than simply acceptable. She lifted her ass a bit higher and his cock plowed deeper, increasingly deeper. He had one hand on her ass, steadying her as he fed her his prick, while his other hand stole around her body and took up squatter's rights on her splendid left titty. He pinched at the nipple and she moaned, misting the mirror-glass.
But she could still see her face reflected, and that was all she wanted. As a fuck-scene grew more and more intense, Lorna had no time to study mirrors, but she never tired of seeing her reflection at the beginning of a screw. The way her cheeks and forehead flushed, as though she were blushing ever so daintily. The way her tongue skittered back and forth across her tender, sensitive lips. The way her eyes enlarged and became almost translucently blue as the pleasure of a hard cock's fucking radiated through her entire body. She was beautiful, and she knew it, and she was never more beautiful than when she was being fucked. Plenty of past lovers had told her that, but she liked to see it for herself, as she was seeing it now. Lorna closed her eyes and pressed her lips against the misted glass, kissing her reflection as if its mirror mouth were real flesh and blood.
"You're beautiful," she whispered. "It's all beautiful."
Her facial flush began to deepen as passion took more and more complete hold of Lorna, and she was close enough to the glass to see perfectly the little glassy beads of perspiration which appeared on her forehead and upper lip. There was a salty taste as she smacked her lips, then rimmed the edges of her mouth with her tongue. Her shoulders heaved and her tits felt very heavy, swollen from lust, the nipples thick and hard as bottle tops.
Ken plowed his way into her cunt, grunting and panting as he fucked with ever more intense desire, and he cupped his sister's tits in his hands as well, mauling the ripe mounds vigorously. She knew from the way he screwed her, his cock ramming in sharp, desperate strokes, that he was into it as well as into her. And it was always this way, once she'd stirred him to the point from which there was no return. After all, he was only a man. And what man could ever resist the promise, the certainty of sinking his tool in a tight, wet, responsive twat like Lorna's? somehow, she was sure, it would always be this way, too, with her and Ken.
"God, fuck me!" she squealed, wiggling her ass at him. "Make me come! I want to come with your cock shoved a mile up my cunt! Screw me like a bitch-like your bitch!"
"If you want it, take it!" she groaned, pulling so hard on her tits she thought he'd certainly tear them from her chest. The muscles of her breasts ached thrillingly as Ken pawed the tingling boobs, and she swayed and wriggled and showed her brother how fantastic she was then it came to doing the old bump-and-grind. As if he didn't know already.
She stared at herself in the mirror. Her face was beginning to twitch and contort, and so was his, visible over her shoulder. His eyes were shut tight.
She estimated that he might be good for half a dozen strokes more, but such strokes he would give! Long, heavy penetrations that filled her pussy with his dick and rained numbing blows on the tip of her womb. The hair at the base of his dong was bristly and wiry, especially now, when stray curls of it were pushing into her slit with each thrusting poke of Ken's rod. His crotch hair was tickling the hell out of her pussy, and the exciting stimulation only made Lorna twist and bump all the more feverishly, drawing her body closer and closer to the release she had demanded of him.
She gasped, and blinked her eyes, and tried to keep the mirror image of her face in focus as long as possible. But it was a losing struggle. Lorna's eyes began to roll in their sockets, and her lids snapped shut, and for a brief instant she wished she could see her face right now. because she was positive that it was bathed in the shining glow of shimmering beauty. But knowing was as good as seeing, and it was like a firecracker going off in her cunt.
"Oh, oh, oh. oh, oh. oh, oh ..."
Ken held her possessivly by the boobs, and his fingers strangled her jutting nipples and dug into the rounded curves as if Lorna's tits were soft, pliable dough. Her cries rose to a crescendo.
"Oh, Ken, Ken, Ken, KENNNNNNNNN!"
She vibrated against him, around him, her pussy contracting like a spring clothespin on his cock as she shook her ass from side to side. He pierced upward once more, driving with all his might, and his crotch jammed against her ass as his cock began to erupt once more, buried deep inside Lorna's cunt.
She milked his cock with frantic pussy rippling, and he spilled heavily inside her, so heavily that even while his cock was still thrust deeply, his cum began to spill in hot sticky trails from her gash, oozing down the sweat-dampened insides of her thighs. His prick was swollen to the size of a fencepost, or so it felt to her clenching twat, and she rocked on her heels as she absorbed the incredible, full sensation of having him shoot off within her.
Gingerly he extracted his rigid dong from her pussy, and she sank a little against the mirror. Turning was a slow, precise act, but Lorna turned, and she embraced him, seeking her brother's mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged Ken until she felt his cock begin to wither between their tightly pressed bodies, and she pressed him all the more closely, hoping to keep his cock stiff for yet another sweet fuck.
"God, you're good!" she told him in approval. "I think you've been practicing since last time."
"Lorna, please," he entreated.
He tried to loosen her hands on his neck and eventually he succeeded. Lorna relaxed her grip and settled onto the- soles of her feet. Still she rocked back and forth, touching him now, then pulling away, then touching him once again, and her delicately rounded lower abdomen seemed to bump a great many times on the sticky, nearly limp dangle of his cock. The balls beneath his cock jiggled softly when she touched him, and she enjoyed looking down to see it. She put her hands on his waist and moved a little faster. His cock seemed to shiver with what reminded Lorna very much of the first onset of a brand-new hard-on.
"All I'm doing, lover," she panted, "is gorging myself before the famine. There is to be a famine, isn't there? Or have you decided to do the sensible thing and leave Barbie-doll standing at the altar, wondering whatever happened to her promised bridegroom?"
"You have a rotten sense of humor," he growled, walking past her, into the bedroom:
Lorna tagged him like a puppy, her eyes intent upon the sexy way his buttocks moved up and down as he strode. Beneath the crack of his ass, between his legs, she could see the rear of his nuts and, bouncing, the tip of his dick. At the moment she wanted nothing more than to fall upon her knees behind him, spread those muscular cheeks, and stick her tongue as far up his asshole as she could thrust it. That was one of Ken's favorite tricks, and she was damned sure Barbie hadn't been giving him any of it.
Ken picked up the clothes he'd stripped off late last night, when she teased him into bed with her, and he tossed them into a hamper by the wall. He went to his dresser and opened a drawer, extracting a clean shirt, clean undershorts. Lorna followed, present but not interfering. She supposed, regretfully, that she'd depleted him. And if his cock wouldn't respond, odds where he wouldn't either. It was his only defense.
Pictures atop the dresser. One of Ken on the deck of a fishing boat. Taken two years ago, when she persuaded him to join her on a vacation trip to the Gulf Coast. Two beautiful weeks. Fucking on a deserted beach at sunrise. Fucking on their hotel room's balcony with a million stars twinkling in the night sky above. The naughty hand-job she'd given him beneath the tablecloth at the most sedate, most expensive dining room in Tampa. How a waiter in formal dress had come to ask solemnly if there was anything else required at the table, just as Lorna's hand brought her brother to fountaining orgasm underneath. Indeed, the only times Ken had managed to escape her needs and demands was on his fishing trips. He went often, once he got the idea, and it meant that for a day's time he was out of her reach. But when he came home to the hotel in the evening-ah, yes! Smelling of fish and diesel smoke, she would allow no hesitations, no excuses. It was down with the pants and up with the cock, and onto the bed, and always the day of deprivation seemed to make both of them that much hotter, that much more eager for it.
And that was only one of many times, taking the last-how many?-years into consideration. God, she thought, it's been thirteen years, hasn't it? If she were superstitious, she'd have taken that as a doleful omen, but Lorna had no truck with omens or horoscopes or any of the other bullshit in that vein. She knew that the will is foremost, that the wish was father to the deed, and that if she wanted anything, she was a damned fool not to go after it with all her resources. It had always worked.
Until now. For beside the picture of Ken on the fishing boat stood a framed color portrait of the person who had apparently exerted a stronger will than Lorna Parker's.
It was Barbie, her brother's soon-to-be-wife, the woman who was not stepping into the middle of Lorna's relationship with Ken. Symbolic, really, because on the far side of Barbie's picture was a small black and white glossy of Lorna herself, Barbie-divided from Ken's photo. Lorna reached for the middle picture, picking it up before her brother could stop her.
She really couldn't figure it. Barbie didn't seem to be Ken's type at all. She had a passably pretty face, heart-shaped, cleanly chiseled, framed off by a poor-boy haircut. Her eyes were hazel green, her hair a muted red, her lips thin, pink, set for this picture in a wide-mouthed but far from confident smile. A demure patch of freckles across the bridge of her nose, a dimpled chin-the only word was wholesome. All right, Lorna supposed, for the girl next door, but would you want your brother to marry one? She looked at Ken.
"Was she a virgin when you met her, darling? She certainly gives the impression in this photo. Or is it an old picture?"
Ken jerked the photo out of her hand and replaced it atop the dresser. "Don't bring up that subject," he warned. "I won't tell you again. I love her, I'm going to marry her, and you're going to have to accept that fact, Lorna. You and I are finished."
"I don't suppose you told her about us, did you, darling?" Lorna asked, not at all affected by his words. "No, I didn't think so. It probably hasn't come up yet in conversation. After all, how does one begin on the weather or the economy or Jimmy Carter's teeth and bring the subject around to, 'Oh, yes, Barbie, I should mention that I've been fucking my big sister ever since we were babies and she's frightfully jealous now that I've cut her off.' Do you have any plans for telling her the horrible secret?"
He didn't answer. Lorna bumped his arm with her tits and ran her fingers through the back of his hair. "Maybe you'd rather I told her. A woman can talk to a woman so much easier, you know. And if I threw on the tears and the wistful hurt expressions, who knows? Maybe she'll be so touched she'll invite me to join the marriage as a third partner. And wouldn't it be so much nicer for you if you didn't have to sneak around balling me on the side?"
He spun away. "Don't talk like that! I haven't told her, because I don't want to hurt her. And I don't want Barbie to look at me like some kind of sick animal. Which is how I feel after being with you, Lorna. What we're doing-what we've been doing-it isn't right. It's against every law of God and man. It there's a hell, we'll both go there."
"And we can fuck amid the flames," Lorna said. "Besides, if you feel so sick, why do you let yourself get aroused? You enjoy it while we're screwing. I can tell by the way your cock gets so gorgeously hard and fucks in and out of my cunt with such fierce, erotic violence. I can tell by the way you squeeze my tits, by the way you try to suck out my soul when we're kissing. A man doesn't act that way unless he's turned on, and, little brother, I turn you on. If you can look me in the eyes and deny it-but you can't, so why should I bring up the possibility? And in view of that. what does it matter that we merely happen to share a set of parents? I take the pill every day, rain or shine, and I'm not about to birth a two-headed monster. Except for you, darling, with one of your heads saying, 'No, it's wrong and sinful,' and the other saying, 'God, Lorna, that dynamite body of your is just what I need to make life worth living!'"
She took his hand. "Be really honest, Ken dear. Am I a better fuck than Barbie-doll? She looks so inhibited .and middle-American sugar and spice, I'll bet your next load of cum that she's a cold fish in bed. But wait-I remember your passion for fishing-" She tapped the photo. "Could it be that cold fish also ring your chimes?"
He moved away, and she followed, still gripping his hand. "I know I'm acting like a spoiled, jealous bitch, darling, but tell me honestly-what can she give you that I can't?"
The ringing of the telephone cut off any answer he might have made. Ken wrested his hand free of Lorna's and he sat down on the edge of his bed, picking up the receiver.
"Hello," he said, and she saw him smile awkwardly at the phone, and she knew who was calling.
"Of course I'm ready," Ken said, "and I'm up early getting everything in order. I love you, too, Barbie."
It got soupier, and Lorna smirked, trying not to listen. Especially to romantic dialogue that was straight out of a bad, old movie. She looked at her brother, wanting to laugh out her ironic impulses. After all. he was sitting on a sex-rumpled bed, a bed he'd shared with her, a bed which had a number of telltale cum stains on its sheets, and he was telling his fianc�e how much he looked forward to their wedding this evening. And right now, Loma reminded herself, his cock still tasted of sperm, the creamy foam he'd poured into her cunt in the bathroom, no more than twenty minutes ago. An idea possessed Lorna, and she dropped to her knees. Ken's eyes flickered questioningly as he continued speaking to Barbie, but Loma barely noticed.
She crawled to him, putting one hand on each of his knees. He looked down in alarm, but she spread his legs wide anyway, and she thrust herself between them. Her chin bumped the tip of his dick, and yes, she was right, it was still sticky with his jism. She moved her head slightly and kissed him directly on the cock. A throb of interest replied inside his cock-tube, and Ken's tool began to rise slowly, filling up like a balloon being inflated.
"Stop it!" he said silently, his lips forming the words he wasn't able to speak, but Lorna ignored him. She took his rapidly enlarging cock in her hands and fondled it until it stood up all hard and red before her face. The tube on his underside bulged out, and she licked it with the tip of her tongue, drooling a trail of saliva up and down his rod as she moved.
"Uh . . . what did you say, honey?" he asked, jerking suddenly as Lorna's mouth assaulted his dick and interrupted his train of thought.
CHAPTER THREE
"No, of course not-it's fine. I-I don't-just a minute, please, Barb." He cupped his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone and cast imploring eyes at Lorna. She only smiled, a sweet, knowing smile, and once again her tongue fluttered up the underside of his cock.
He was squirming so frantically it was all she could do to hold his cock in place for her licking. Lorna sighed, used her tongue like a washcloth on the red knobby end of his cock, and for a moment she savored the taste of his last orgasm, where the cum had begun to dry beneath his cock-head.
"Yes, darling?" Ken said into the telephone just as Lorna opened her mouth and stuffed his prick inside. She didn't waste a second. She began to move her head up and down in a pattern of furious cock-sucking which, she knew quite well, easily ranked among the ten or fifteen horniest blow-jobs she'd ever given anyone. Her entire mouth, from lips to voice box, was at his disposal, and his cock managed to make use of nearly all she offered. He thrust so deeply into her throat she feared she might strangle, but she didn't stop sucking for so small-minded a reason. Her head twisted from side to side, pulling feverishly at his cock, and he twisted and squirmed, too, participating against his will but participating all the same.
She wanted to laugh, overhearing the solemn, forced evenness of his voice as he spoke to Barbie, as he told her how much he loved her, how much he anticipated their life together, and since she couldn't laugh-not with his cock jammed into her hungry mouth-Lorna compensated by sucking like a vampire. She brushed back her hair with one hand, clasped his balls with the other, and she sucked. God in heaven, how she sucked! Her jaws ached from the clenched pressure she was applying to his prick, and her tongue would probably be in a permanent state of depression, thanks to the weight of his prick on it, with this chance was too much to pass by. She had to do him now, to humiliate him in the face of her rival, so to speak; and when her eyes glanced up to take in his expression, she knew that it was working.
Her fingers rolled his stones inside their ball-bag. and he twitched anxiously as his jewels banged together, separated, then banged again. Men were so fragile, she thought half in contempt, half in love. Their nuts were so tender, so necessary, and at the same time so unprotected. Sometimes she wondered how a man could even sit down on a hard chair without doing permanent damage to his delicate, dangling scrotum. But most men, she had found, also enjoyed the love-pain a woman could inflict on balls by using her fingers or lips in just the right way, and dear sweet Ken was no exception to that rule. His face was pale, and his eyes were shut tight, and she knew precisely what that expression on his face signified. How could he carry on a conversation with Barbie while his sister was blowing him like a tornado? Little brother must have some hidden reservoir of strength and composure which Lorna had not yet forced him to expose. Not until now. But could he hold out forever? She doubted it very seriously.
To test that doubt, Lorna suddenly removed her mouth from the end of his dick. He was spit-frothy all the way from knob to base, and the tip of his dick was creamy with tiny spurting releases of lubricant he'd not been able to hold back during her deep-throat blow-job. She held his cock firmly, licking away the premature bubbles of cum, and then she eased forward, raising herself higher as she moved.
"Try this." she invited, moving her lips silently to form the words. Ken looked as if he'd seen a ghost. Lorna trapped his cock between her full, pink-capped tits, and she swayed back and forth, jerking him off in her cleavage. Thank God her tits were big enough for this particular gambit, she thought, loving the way his prick seemed to friction her tit-flesh, to set it afire the way a Boy Scout rubs sticks together and creates flames. Barbie's boobs were like hard little oranges, set high on her chest. Sweet-looking titties, round and firm, but certainly not large enough to treat Ken to a trip like his sister could give him, so easily, so willingly.
As his cock moved between her knockers, the tip bumped time and again on Lorna's mouth. She met it with her tongue, lapping the cum-flavored secretions he was leaking more vigorously with each additional stroke, and she made her tits an even tighter glove upon his cock.
Her nipples were up, hard and hot and tingly to the touch, and she wondered if she weren't about to come herself, just from the naughty pleasure of servicing Ken while he tried to carry on a rational conversation with his lady-love. Lorna discovered that if she humped in a certain way, her pussy could pick up a delicious amount of stimulation from the backs of her folded legs, and she made her cunt bump-bump-bump, sighing as the pleasure blossomed and spread. She was very wet between the legs, almost as wet as if he'd been fucking her. and she added new rhythmic variations to the way she rocked herself.
His cock was swollen incredibly-about eight inches long, she knew from measuring it, and two inches in diameter. Her tits were hot and itchy where its barrel stroked between their clutching curves, and she found herself opening her mouth to let him slip in his knobby tip when he pressed forward. And he was cooperating, she was well aware. As always, he was telling her no with his mouth and yes, yes, yes with his cock. She loved the discrepancy.
Again and again she opened her mouth, licking and nibbling the end of Ken's dong as it sprang up to flog her mouth, and she cradled his prick so possessively her tits ached and throbbed with the effort. But it was having its effect, too. His cock was reddened, especially the very tip, where she had used her mouth with such one-track-minded eagerness, and the slit which creased the end of his rod was raw and slickly wet.
She flicked at that opening, the slice from which he let fly his piss and his cum, and she tried to drive her tongue into it, worming and burrowing even though she knew it to be physically impossible. But each pass of her tongue made Ken jerk his cock back, away from her, and the promise of being so loved again made his dick spring forward, shoving between her tits, straight for her mouth once more. She wasn't listening now, and she didn't care what he was telling Barbie. Lorna knew damned well that he liked what he was getting at this end, and that as long as he liked it, he was hers. Irrevocably.
"Mmmmmmmmmm!" she gurgled, leaning towards his cock in a reversal of the standard pattern. She caught him by surprise,-in the midst of a forward stroke, and more of his cock entered her mouth than usual. She forced her head towards him even more, and the swollen corona was in her, as was the shaft well past the circumcision scar. Loma squeezed with her tits, refusing to budge her head an inch, and she licked mad circles around the knob of his cock. Ken groaned and she knew what that groan meant. He was ready to come. She'd done it again.
Any other time, of course, she'd have sucked his knob until the warm goo flooded her mouth, and she'd have capped the act by guzzling his sperm, as she always did; but for now, something else definitely seemed called for.
Lorna pulled her head back, tongue shooting out to lick her brother's cock as it slipped from her mouth, and she held it between her tits, licking and flipping until the first real blast of his orgasm spurted into her flushed, lovely face.
She worked her tits on his rod then, giving him a hand-job with her boobies, and his cock gushed like a volcano, spraying his cream upon her. Thick lashings of sperm blasted Lorna's face,, spewing onto her nose, her cheeks, her lips, into the blonde hair that had swept low across her forehead, and she was receiving a cum-bath of delightful quantity. Again she worked her tits, teasing his dick into spurting still more cum upon her, and by that time some of the flowing trails of Ken's jism had trickled into her opened, smiling mouth. She reached with her tongue to capture them, fully aware that Ken had given vent to a soul-shaking cry at the moment of his explosion, a moan that must have astonished the hell out of his fianc�e on the line.
"N-N-No, n-n-nothing's wr-wr- I'm okay, hon, really. I-I just had some gas or something. Oh, listen, Barbie, I'll call you in a little while. I think somebody's at the door. Good bye, baby, and remember, I love you more than anything, anyone else in the whole world. Bye!" He concluded almost defiantly, hanging up the phone and staring down at Lorna as she smeared his jizm onto her features, as she used . her fingers to wipe the bubbles of cum from his dick, as she licked those fingers dry with smacks of delight.
When she knew that he was looking, she raised her eyes to his, raised them with an unspoken challenge. His cock was still wet and shining from the moisture of her mouth and his ejaculation, and she dried it with her palms, rubbing vigorously to keep the cock almost as hard as it had been between her tits.
"Cool save," she complimented. "But gas?" Loma shook her head. "It's more like oil," she advised Ken. "Sweet, sweet oil. Incense. Nectar, perhaps." She caught a thick bead of his cum that had struck the flare of her nose, and she licked daintily at the finger which held the pearl. "Do you still want it all to be over? Me and you? Do you really want that, darling?"
"Why?" he asked, his voice cracking with emotion. "Why in the name of God do you do this to me? You've been married and divorced. You've had Christ knows how many affairs. You could have any man you wanted, just by twitching your gorgeous ass. So why. Loma, why do you insist on making my life a hell on earth?"
"Hell on earth? Hell of a blow-job is more like it! And so what if I've been married and divorced, and shacked up more times than you could count up on your pocket calculator? That doesn't matter. You're the only man I've ever really cared about. Ken, and I think that this time you'd know it.
Oh, damn it, you're the one making the problems."
"First, you call me in Vegas and tell me that you're getting married. And that you'd appreciate it if I didn't come to the wedding. Because, as you put it, what we had is all in the past and you want to start out with this Barbie-doll and a clean slate. Well, it seems to me that if you were serious about any of that, you'd have just gone ahead and gotten married and told me later. You knew that I'd drop everything and fly east, which is precisely what I did. You weren't even surprised when I strolled into your office this afternoon and gave you a remarkably chaste kiss in front of your tit-less secretary. And I don't recall having had to use a whip and chain to get you out of your clothes and into the sack. You came, if you'll pardon the pun, with a minimum of difficulty. Actually, darling, I think I'm the one who's being put upon, having to abase myself this way."
She petted his cock as she spoke, and the organ refused to go completely soft. It wasn't rigid now, not rigid enough for fucking at least, but Lorna knew that it could be, and very soon, if she wanted to be fucked.
"All right, Ken. What I'm trying to say is this. When we were too young to know better, we transgressed the Judeo-Christian moral code to a slight degree. It was fantastic for me, and I know that it was great for you, too. And it's affected my life, to the extent that I still dig it, fucking with you. Just as you dig it with me. I've had plenty of other men, and they don't stack up in comparison. But now you want to put it all in the past, just like that." She snapped her fingers. "And it can't be done, Ken. I can't go cold turkey, no more than i could quit cigarettes cold turkey, no more that I could quit eating cold turkey. Maybe you could taper me off, but I doubt it. Still I'd wake up craving you, and go to bed craving you, and all through the time between I'd be day-dreaming about your cock inside me, thrusting, piercing, making me ooze with ecstasy.
"But I don't want all your life. What I want is only what I'm entitled to-the right to have you when I need you, when you need me. Is that too much to ask? Is this Barbie such an insatiable nymphomaniac that you have to put everything you have into keeping her semi-calm? Do we have to break it off completely just because some red-headed twit with freckles and green eyes gave you a wink and you thought her asshole was the rising and setting of the goddamned sun--"
She hadn't meant for it to get that far, but the resentment was showing and she'd spoken the words. It was too late to call them back. Ken's face reddened and he knocked her hands away from his cock. Hastily he arose, stepping past her.
"You're nothing but a slut, Lorna," he said angrily, "and I won't allow you to talk about Barbie in that tone. She's everything you can never be. She's clean and she's pure and she's decent, and I pray to whatever God may be that she can help me get over this sick, disgusting relationship you forced me into all those years ago. Sometimes-sometimes, Loma, especially when I'm with Barbie and she's shining her light on me-sometimes I wish I'd died before you and I ever got started, so that I wouldn't have the shame of it on me now. I'll admit it-I'm weak, too weak to resist you when you turn it on-but Barbie is the strength I've needed. With her on my side I won't yield again. And that's the way it ought to be I won't let you use me forever. I won't let you use me again. Never, again."
Lorna was astonished. "You sound as if you despise me!" she cried.
"Maybe I do," he told her stone-faced. "And maybe someday you and I will be able to relate like a normal brother and sister. But what you just did, what we just did-it was the last time, Lorna. The very last time. Ever. And I mean it. I really mean it. I'm finally crawling out of the mud, and I only hope that you can find the strength to do it, too."
Mud? she thought. Where in the hell did mud come into it? What kind of trip was he on? Had he given a dollar to some street-bumming Jesus freak and gotten converted? How could he equate the exciting joy they'd shared with anything dirty or filthy? Inside, Lorna still glowed from that fucking by the mirror, not to mention the matches and rematches of last night and all their past encounters as well. And now he was trying to bring her down this way? If anyone was sick, it was her baby brother, by God!
He'd never been this puritanical before. Oh, he'd been scared at first, and once in a while he seemed to have a little quilt trip riding on his shoulders, but-it had to be that bitch Barbie! Maybe she was the morality freak. Maybe she was giving off holy-roller vibes and warping Ken's mind. Oh, God. that had to be it! Lorna hadn't met Barbie yet-until day before yesterday she'd not guessed the cunt even existed-and she wouldn't meet her prospective sister-in-law till tonight, at the wedding. But when she did come face to face with the bitch, why, she'd- How many years did they give you for first-degree murder in this state? With mitigating circumstances?
Barbie-doll had broken up the sweetest, best thing in Lorna Parker's life, and she would pay for it. Fucking straight! She would pay through the cunt!
CHAPTER FOUR
When she looked again, he was dressing. Lorna supposed she could wangle him into the bed, into her cunt, once again, but it didn't seem worth the game at the moment. She went searching for her own clothes.
"Am I still invited to the wedding?" she asked evenly, placing the bra cups around her tits and fastening the strap.
"Would it stop you if I said no?"
She shook her head. "Probably not. I suppose you're entitled to have me stay away, but I think I'm just as entitled to be there. The bride and I nave something very much in common, ken darling. Your sexy bod. But I promise I'll behave. I won't do anything overt or cunty, like whipping out a tit or flashing my pussy during the ceremony. God, wouldn't it be embarrassing if you suddenly deserted your blushing bride and flung yourself upon me while everyone was watching? So I won't tempt you."
"Do whatever you please. I've already explained the score to you, Lorna. In the past, you've been able to prey on my weakness, but all of that is changing. Thank God, it's about time."
She shrugged. He persisted in making such a big deal about it. Couldn't he fuck and enjoy? She had no trouble at all doing precisely that. But if he thought his quilt trip was going to make her feel unclean, well, the bastard had another thing coming. And if he thought he'd been seduced for the last time-Lorna smiled.
She went into the living room while Ken was showering. Dressed only in bra and panties, she made for his liquor cabinet and poured herself a double Black Velvet, adding soda and two ice cubes. It. was seven in the morning, and she felt slightly guilty drinking so soon from bed, but in Vegas she generally had her nightcap about this hour before turning in, alone or accompanied, as her inclination dictated. Sipping the whiskey leisurely, she settled in a chair, wondering where she and Ken had gone sour. It all started off so promisingly, and it had been a relationship to treasure. Maybe thirteen years was long enough to fuck someone. Maybe that's why marriages went bad. But she wasn't dissatisfied or disgusted with him, with fucking him, with sucking and being sucked by him. What was his problem? The problem must be his . . .
* * *
Lorna Parker, seventeen years old, and the only words to describe her were "ripe" and "hot" She'd reached her full growth by then, and it was a delicious full growth. Five feet six inches tall. weight 125, vitals taping in at 36-24-38. She had a woman's body and a woman's desires to go with it.
Summer camp in the Berkshires a few years ago had taken care of that. Lorna was wearing her very first bra then, a dainty, flower-adorned A-cup, and she'd begun menstruating the winter before. Twelve and a half, she was, aware that her body was aching with the delightful pangs of growth, just as aware that a finger carefully applied to the fuzzing slit between her legs could turn those pangs into tremors of joy. She'd been finger-fucking herself when an older girl, a camp counselor, happened upon her. The other girl, about sixteen, didn't chide her for the sin of touching herself. She didn't tell Loma that it could make her go crazy, or would cause hair to grow on her palms, or that her children of some future year would all be born deformed mongoloids. What she did was to let down her own shorts, display her beautifully furred crotch, and demonstrate some refined techniques of playing with pussy. First upon herself, then, at Lorna's insistence, upon the pubescent eager child. For the rest of the camp session, the two young girls managed to meet two or three times daily for repeat performances and Loma Parker found herself in the grips of her very first adolescent crush. She didn't think it was possible for a girl to be in love with another girl, but how else to explain the way she felt about Melanie? When camp ended and Lorna went home, she cried herself to sleep every night for a week, missing her friend's fingers and kisses.
But she couldn't pine forever. It wasn't long before she made a new friend, a girl her own age, a girl as ignorant about the realities of pleasure as Lorna had been, a girl she took pains to educate, as she had been educated. The other girl had a horse and a stable; she and Lorna spent many summer, fall, winter, and spring afternoons, theoretically tending the horse, but actually rolling naked in piles of hay, finger-fucking and kissing. It was in that stall, in a barn scented with hay and horse aromas, that Lorna first felt a mouth on her cunt, that she first used her mouth on another pussy. And she found that sucking her little girl friend's cunt was nearly as erotic, as fulfilling, as having her own cunt sucked and licked in reply. She could come by spontaneous combustion from the very entrance of her tongue in Jacqueline's surprisingly furry twat.
Of course it couldn't last forever, and both of them were a little embarrassed when they later discovered boys. The lesbian interludes slowed, then creased altogether, and by the time Lorna was fourteen she had on several occasions used her hands to bring a boy to spewing orgasm., The first time it ever happened, she laughed aloud, delighted by the force with which he gushed his sticky cum, and she rubbed her fingers, savoring the viscous feel of his sperm upon them. Not until she was in college did she get intimate with another girl, and by that time she knew that it could never be more than a thrilling kind of diversion.
Men were her true passion, not women, although women could give her great pleasure when she was in the mood. There was a hat-check girl at the club in Vegas, for example, a part-time hooker who hated men (Lorna could never understand that) but who moaned and writhed ecstatically when Lorna applied skillful, knowing fingers to the shaven lips of her pussy.
She got her cherry busted, finally, at fifteen and a half, six months after her mother died of cancer. That particular circumstance had put a brief crimp into Lorna's sex life. Prior to her mother's death, she'd been rather open with boys, using her hands and mouth as the situation allowed, and everything except penetration itself had been done to her. But she Wondered, briefly, if God weren't angry with her for being so loose, if he hadn't taken her mother in revenge. A few months of soul-searching and philosophizing resulted, and Lorna came to the conclusion that she'd rather believe in no God at all than in one so crudely vindictive. So to hell with him. She celebrated her resolve by getting fucked, and as she shook and moaned in orgasm on a blanket in the woods, her-tummy warm with whiskey, her pussy full of cock, she knew that she had made the right choice.
Lorna was very much on her own at seventeen. Her father was busy being hogtied by a woman he thought he was hotly pursuing, and Ken was fourteen, a gawky adolescent with a stammer and a perpetual blush. She barely knew he existed, and she only saw him when he came home from school for a holiday.
But by eight-thirty on a June night, Loma Parker became very much aware that she'd been stood up. Her date was already an hour late and she was damned sure that he wasn't coming at all. The son of a bitch! Who did he think he was. anyway? Didn't he know that a little courtesy and consideration would have gotten him a night in her -arms, a night he'd remember and jack off about for a long time to come?
Lorna poured herself a stiff jolt of bourbon, added 7-Up and ice, and lit a cigarette. Daddy didn't like her to drink or smoke, but he didn't protest too strongly about it-not when he was so occupied with his Mary Louise bitch. They were spending the weekend at Newport and Lorna knew damned well that if he hadn't fucked her already this evening, he'd be doing it soon. Once she'd seen him following Mary Louise into the house from the pool, unzipping the back of her swimsuit as he walked. The front of the one-piece had fallen down, baring Mary L.'s rather saggy but large-nippled tits, and both of them laughing like school children. How could he do it with another woman., so soon after Mama's death? She didn't hate the man, but she felt such a strong contempt for his weakness that hate might have been a more charitable emotion.
Ken was home this weekend, up in his room as always. In the daytime he was gone, in the evening he locked himself into his room. For all she saw of him, she might as well not have a brother at all. Fucking lot she cared! Ail he did was stare at her, and it seemed he couldn't keep his eyes away from her tits. Well, they did stick out a little. They were full, round tits, naturally high, and she couldn't very well keep her bra from adding a little prominence, especially when she wore something clingy, as she liked to do. And when she walked away from Ken, she knew that his eyes were focused upon the jiggling swivel of her hips.
Sometimes it was embarrassing, but she made allowances. After all, he was stashed away in that boys' school, and all he saw every day were boys. She couldn't really blame him. She was attractive -"foxy" was a word that hadn't been invented then, unfortunately, but it would have been perfect as a description of Lorna-and she knew that she was attractive.
But if she was, shy the hell had she been stood up this evening? It was an almost unbearable humiliation, and she drank her whisky and ginger ale with an angry insistence, smoking five or six cigarettes in a row. Only the rawness of her throat stopped her from going on all night.
"Oh, God," she said, her mouth and throat foul from cigarettes. She coughed and stood, a little wobbly on her feet thanks to the liquor she'd drunk.
And that wasn't the worst of it. Her date had been with Carol Marks' cousin, a bona fide Yalie, good-looking and extremely virile. She'd counted on spending a delightful evening with that tanned, tall Yalie clutched between her legs, his cock driving up her eager pussy, his mouth sucking the life from hers, her tits hard-nippled and jutting against him. Didn't the bastard know she was a sure thing-a pushover? He was probably a faggot under the all-male exterior. Did it help to fantasize him spread out on a blanket, being corn-holed by some other macho Yalie? It did not. Instead she found herself wondering what it would be like to make it with two guys at the same time. There were thirty-seven roses drawn on the pages of her diary, one for each time she'd been laid. Would a threesome entitle her to two rosebuds? Just thinking about that made her cunt throb and ache in frustrated hunger and she rubbed her crotch through the skirt she'd, chosen for tonight's date.
"Oh, screw it!" she said aloud, bitterly. She'd go upstairs, gargle to get the Marlboro taste washed away, then go to bed. With a double whisky and 7-Up and a little flogging of her clit, perhaps she could get to sleep. Jesus, what a creepy night! It wasn't nine-thirty and she was already resigned to turning in. Well, when she was Carol Marks tomorrow at the country club, she would certainly give that cunt an earful about her faggot cousin and his sense of responsibility. He hadn't even called to cancel. Goddamn him to hell. She swigged the last of her drink, picked up the bottle and a fresh bottle of 7-Up, and went upstairs.
On her way back from the bathroom she passed Ken's bedroom door. It wasn't entirely closed and she could hear sounds coming from inside. Curious, Lorna stopped. She put her ear close to the cracked door and listened. Good God! It sounded as if he were struggling for every breath! Was her kid brother an asthmatic or something? Had he developed a disease at his school? She reached for the doorknob, solicitous about his welfare. From the way he was panting, it sounded as if he were having serious trouble with his lungs. No one had mentioned it to her, and if Daddy didn't know either, well, it might take his mind off that slutty Mary Louise.
"Are you okay?" she asked, opening the door, and her eyes took in an amazing sight.
Ken, stark naked, was lying atop his bedsheets. staring at a pair of Playboys, the centerfolds spread open. And if he was panting, well, the dear boy had good reason. For he had one hand wrapped around his stiff cock and he was masturbating as he gazed upon the naked charms of Misses March and May, 1963.
Even slightly fogged with whisky, Lorna couldn't miss the more important aspects of the scene in progress. Ken's body was slim, still growing of course, but with a hell of a lot of promise. Someday, she was sure, his shoulders would be wide and well-muscled, his hips narrow and manly. They would be a perfect complement to the incredibly well-developed prick his fist was clutching so tightly.
For a fourteen-year-old, Ken was hung. There was no other word applicable. His cock stuck out and out and out, the knobby end Of it red with self-induced passion, the big veins standing up in his cock-flesh like mountains on a relief map. She stared in admiration, ignoring his flustered face completely as she concentrated upon his dick. It wasn't the biggest she'd ever seen, but it certainly looked like the hardest, and she knew somehow that it was the most gorgeous cock in existence. Without knowing that she was doing it, Lorna allowed her feet to carry her closer to Ken's bed.
"What are you doing?" she giggled. "Or do I have to ask?"
He reacted, finally, tardily. He let go of his cock and reached for the sheet, pulling it up to cover himself.
But Lorna could react, too. She grabbed at the sheet from its lower edge and tugged just as hard as he was pulling from his end, and his face went even redder as he realized that he could not bring the sheet into place. His cock wiggled as he fought, and Lorna grinned knowingly. God, it was hard! That prick of his would be rigid as a steel bar in her hands! She sat down on the bed, planting her ass atop the sheet and ending the struggle for its possession.
Cocking her head to one side, she eyed the Playboy Playmates her brother had been examining. "Hpphh!" she sniffed. "Do they make you all hot and horny, kid?"
He stammered. "N-N-Nl... I mean, welllll, I... uh ..."
She couldn't stop herself. Lorna reached for his bare cock. He tried to pull away but she was too fast for him. Her fingers caught and locked, and as she squeezed his rigid prick, her eyes bulged appreciatively.
"My God," she said, "and you're just a little kid!" With her other hand she touched the tip of his prick, noting with pleasure the way he twitched in response. "Not so little. Jesus, Ken, is this why you're always in your room? Are you always lying on your bed doing naughties to your pecker?"
"Not all the time," he mumbled.
"Of course not," she replied. "You sleep once in a while. Right?" She giggled. Nervously? God almighty, her entire body was shaking as she sat here with Ken's dick in her hand! Lorna brushed a hand through her hair, let his cock go, and straightened her back.
She stared at her brother, focusing her eyes upon his. His blush had faded a little, and he was regaining normal color in the face. But his eyes were wide, staring back at her own, as if he didn't know what was happening now, couldn't guess what might happen next.
"Is this it for you, little brother?" she asked considerately. "I mean, have you ever done anything more advanced than beating your meat?"
He shook his head slowly, uncertainly.
"You poor darling!" Lorna told him. "Don't you know that girls in Scarsdale are going to bed with empty pussies, while you waste this big, hard prick on the Playmate of the Month?"
He smiled; she laughed. Once again she took hold of his pecker. It was still hard as a rock. Seven, eight inches long, she estimated, and it felt thick enough to be a comfortable twat-stuffer. She locked her thumb and index finger around it, measuring mentally. And he was only fourteen?
"You better stop," he warned. "I think I'm going to-OHM"
Without any additional warning his cock convulsed in her hand. Cum gushed from the tip in a fast-flying stream, some of it spattering the front of Lorna's blouse, another dab or two hitting her skirt. Still more rolled in a hot, viscous flow across the backs of her fingers. She closed her hand upon his cock-tube and shucked quickly, three or four times. A throbbing rippled through him and more cum oozed from his slitted tip, and then his rod began to soften in her hand. Jism coated Ken's knob as well as her hand. Lorna took her fingers away, brought them to her nostrils. She sniffed at the sperm drops, then, impulsively, tasted them. Ken watched in wide-eyed amazement.
"It's delicious," she said defensively. "If I'd known you were going to shoot off, I'd have stuck your cock in my mouth and sucked up all your sperm. But look at what you've done to me, you naughty child! You've splattered me with jism. On my blouse, on my skirt. Well . . ." She stood up, hand reaching up to unbutton her shirt. "I'd better get out of these so I can wash out the stains."
Somehow she knew what was coming next. There was no way she could stop herself. In some Book of Fates, this page had already been written. Lorna surrendered herself to destiny.
Ken's eyes got larger as she removed her blouse, let her skirt drop. Underneath she wore bra and panties, but not for long. She fixed her eyes upon her brother's face, staring intently, and her hands went around automatically to undo her bra clasp. The white cups fell away from her pink-nippled tits and she saw him shudder as her breasts appeared before his unbelieving eyes.
"God," he said, "their beautiful!"
"Of course they are, darling," she replied evenly, hooking her thumbs in the waistband of her panties. "And would you like to see the rest of it? Have you ever seen a real naked girl, Ken?"
"Show me," he whispered. "Please show me!"
"Delighted to," Loma smirked, easing down her panties. His eyes literally bulged when she flashed her full, blonde beaver at him. It was one of her proudest possessions; guys were always astonished to find that she was a natural blonde, with golden hair on her head and upon her crotch.
"Do you like it?" she asked, but the question was superfluous. The delightful sight of his cock. rising, hardening, before her every eyes was all the answer. Much later, Loma knew that it had all been inevitable, from the moment she chose to enter his room rather than retreat when she saw what he was doing. Ken's fate, her fate-they'd really been preordained. But she had no thought of destiny, of inevitability as she slid the panties farther down. She was tantalizing him with the slow revelation of her physical charms and she was enjoying that tantalization, and each succeeding moment surprised her with its spontaneity.
"You've got hair on your cunt!" Ken said happily.
"Well, of course," Lorna agreed. But he couldn't know that cunts were hairy, if all he had to go on was Playboy. It would be many years before a skin magazine dared to reveal its model's beavers. Ken looked at her in pleased astonishment, staring so intently she wondered if he weren't counting the individual hairs flossing her pussy.
She stepped out of the panties, asking herself what she should do next. But did she have any choice? Rationality ,didn't come till a long time later; instead of thinking, Loma moved onto the bed, lying full-length, facing her brother. She reached for his cock, which was fully erect once more, as stiff as the pink nipples that jutted from the ends of her tits, and she was panting already, as if she'd been fucked and then forced to run a mile.
"What do you know about sex?" she asked him breathlessly, toying with the ripe, ready stalk of his pecker.
"A lot," he said stoutly. "A man and a woman get together and-"
"You've never done it, though. Right?" He nodded.
"Well, baby brother, you don't know lack Shit!"
She reached for his neck, pulling his face close to hers. His lips trembled as she began to kiss them, and Lorna shivered, too, for somehow it didn't seem right to stick her tongue into her brother's mouth. But she'd already jerked him off, and she had her hand on his cock once more. Why should she be squeamish about a little old kiss? She stabbed furiously with her tongue.
"Mmmm," she said, pulling her lips away. "You kiss nice. Are you sure you're innocent?" She loved to see him blush. It was so cute.
"Lorna-should we-I mean, isn't it wrong-"
"Oh, fuck it," she snapped. "You only live once. If you don't try everything, you only screw yourself." Her hand squeezed his throbbing cock. "Besides, little brother-do you really want me to stop?"
His answer was a crushing kiss that almost strangled Lorna. She threw herself into his passion and scooted closer, the hot barrel of his cock nibbling her belly. God, how hard his cock was, and he'd just squirted his stuff!
"I'm horny, too," she whispered, lips fluttering on his cheek. "I'm so horny I don't know what to do. little brother. Do you know what to do, or would you like me to show you?"
"Show me," he sighed.
"On your back, kid," she commanded, rising to her knees. "Ooooh. look how you stick up, Kenny love! I ought to hang a flag from your pole!"
He was sweating heavily as she played with his dick, and Lorna could feel dampness beneath her arms, behind her knees, between her tits, and, most profusely, in the pit of her cunt. She moved her legs together, squeezing the pussy framed between them, and it felt so good, so goddamned good-she held his cock firmly, working her legs on her twat, sighing as the excitement built and clung, and she wondered if she couldn't even get off right here, all by herself, before she was able to fling a leg across his body and mount his hard prick. No! she told herself angrily. Wait! Hold back just a little!
"See my slit?" she told him, running a finger through her pussy hair, pushing the curls aside so he could clearly perceive her pink gash.
Ken nodded, his hand lifting. Lorna moved her own so he could touch her gash.
"Oh!" she gasped as his fingers brushed her cunt-lips. "Oh, right there, baby! Stop! I need a clear head, you little bastard. That's where I'm going to put your cock, honey, but I guess you already know that, don't you?"
Again he nodded.
"Well, kid, if you're ready, I'm twice as."
She straddled him then, holding his cock with one hand while she raised her pussy high above it. Sweat dripped from her thighs and armpits and she knew that her puss was definitely wet enough to allow Ken a very easy penetration. Lorna hovered above him for a moment, wondering if she really ought to be doing this. After all, he was her brother. If there was a God in heaven, this act was certainly a violation of a few of his commmandments. But she'd already made up her mind on that score. She leaned forward, raising his dick and touching it to the lips of her twat. He jerked at his first vaginal contact, and Lorna wiggled atop him, smearing his rod with the juices that oozed from her fuck-hole. She felt his cock throb and shiver in her hand and she wondered if he mightn't be about to come again.
Quickly she lined up his cock and her cunt, pushed at him to imbed his knob in her labes, and then she descended swiftly, her pussy opening and swallowing his prick gluttonously. Her eyes closed as she sank to rest her loins upon his, and she put her hands on Ken's chest. He raised his head, groaning, moaning, with little choked sounds of unparalleled astonishment.
"Oh, my God," he gasped, "I'm in you! My cock is really in your cunt!"
"Damn straight," Lorna purred, her hips beginning to swivel, to lift and fall in a sexy, rhythmic pattern. She liked being on top. It was easy to put a finger on her clit, to frig herself while her pussy was reamed and screwed, and she diddled her love button as she rode him. "Keep it hard, baby brother," she told him. "Keep it hard for me. Oh, Christ, I'm full of your cock! I think the tip of your dick is in the bottom of my throat! Well, do something, damn it! Don't just lie there! Fuck up at me! Ram me! Screw me! Ball me with your pecker! I want to come!"
She had a hand on his chest, and she could feel his heart beating. It was a fast, desperate pulsating tempo, vibrating in the hollow of her palm, and she felt him move beneath her, his cock starting to burrow actively in her swampy cunt. "Better."
Lorna groaned, meeting him with a few twitches of her own. "Much-much-better!"
Perhaps r-he'd gotten too horny thinking about Carol's cousin; perhaps it was the spice of incest. Whatever the reason, Loma climaxed within a dozen romps on Ken's prick. And still it was hard within her hole, his cock jammed into her rippling, milking snatch. She ground upon his loins, sucking his dick with her pussy, and through half-closed eyes she saw his face contort. Loma knew what that look meant. And almost as it registered in her eyes, Ken put one hand on her ass, reached with the other to trap one of the jiggling tits, and she felt his cock swell inside her fluttering hole.
"Come!" she gasped in delirium. "Come, darling, come!"
He did! His cock jabbed upward, stabbing deeply into her wet cunt, and she could feel the jerking shudders of his orgasm. Lorna sank upon him, holding his face vertical so she could plant her mouth on his. This time it was his tongue that plunged between her lips, into the salivating cave, and she sucked it greedily, as if it were a throbbing cock stuffed in her mouth. Soon, she thought, shaking with her climax and his, soon it would be his dick and she would be sucking it just as hungrily, sucking until the hot, thick strings of cum poured down her throat-
They lay a little later, kissing and petting, unlike any brother and sister Loma had ever heard of, but it all seemed so right, so natural.
"You're good," she told him. "You really know how to give it to a girl. God, I came so hard my pussy's gonna ache for a week. But do you know what I want now, Ken baby."
"What?"
She giggled. "How many times can you get a hard-on in one night?" She grabbed him by the cock, twisting and kneading until he answered physically. "Much better," she went on. "Kiss me, and then I'll show you how it feels to have your pecker eaten. And I do mean eaten, kid."
The one, she thought, whom she really should kiss was Carol Marks' Yalie cousin. For making it all possible. And anyway, he'd have been a punk fuck next to Ken. As she bent to take her brother's peter in her mouth, she was absolutely certain of that fact. And as she began to use her mouth on Ken's prick, she found that there were certainties beyond certainty.
* * *
She finished her Black Velvet, scarcely aware that Ken had left the apartment with a gruff word of farewell. In her mind Lorna was reliving the past thirteen years. How many times had she screwed him? How many sands were there on the beach? That first weekend, they'd been upon one another like newlyweds. A friendly handshake was provocation enough for a frantic fuck. And he'd learned fast. In no time at all he was using his mouth on her like a professional. And he was so young and strong! Once he got a hard-on, nothing seemed to stop him. He could come in her, on her, wherever, and the slightest touch of her lips or fingers would make his cock stand up, ready to do it again and again and again. It was a wonder she didn't wind up pregnant, in those pre-Pill days. He spilled gallons of jism in her pussy, just as much in her mouth.
And when he went back to school in the fall, she wrote him every day, letters full of her passion and need. She even stood by the mirror with her Polaroid camera and took nude snapshots which she mailed to him.
It went on that way for a year or two. No guilt, no recriminations, only the driving thrill of fucking and sucking him. But once she started college, they saw one another less frequently. Daddy took Mary Louise as his bride-she fucked him to death, finally, in 1969, by which time Lorna had ceased to care-and Lorna fucked a great many men as well as a few women. She even married one of the men; it lasted not quite a year. He was sexy and virile, but about as intelligent as a fencepost, and he suspected that she was using her job as a means to meet and screw other men. (Well, sure, she did ball some outside friends, but his bitching and griping were the principal reasons. She wanted to fuck. If she'd craved fighting, she'd have joined the Army.) At any rate, she didn't anticipate marrying again-not unless Prince Charles, Johnny Carson, or Paul Newman made an offer.
And no matter whom she fucked, from a hat-check girl to a gas-station attendant to a world-famous comedian looking for Vegas fun-no matter, Lorna still found herself gravitating toward Ken. He'd been good, that very first time, and he just seemed to get better. She had orgasms with him where other partners inspired only yawns. Sometimes he was coy, sometimes eager.
Occasionally he mentioned the futility of such a relationship.
"What can it lead to?" he'd ask her, as they lay in bed sipping from a tumbler of cold wine. "I mean, you're my sister, for God's sake!"
"Why does it have to lead to anything? Can't you just fuck and be happy? I can!"
And he'd always fall silent then, as if he had no answer.
But he'd given her an answer, finally, and it was like gall in her mouth. He wanted nothing more to do with her. He had chosen another path in life, one that excluded her completely.
Funny. Ken had gone into the hospital last winter for a bit of minor surgery. Of all the nurses in Gotham City, who should be working his ward but a wistful-faced red-headed single girl named Barbie. And tomorrow evening-no! she was still on a Vegas schedule. It was this evening. At seven, Ken and Barbie would become man and wife, just like in TV toy commercials. What a bitching development! And, apparently, his mind was made up. He'd said things to her she'd never forgive from anyone else
"Giving up already?" she asked her whisky glass. "That isn't like you, Lorna Parker. You're a fighter. Fight for what you want."
Yes, by God, she would fight. She still had a few tricks left in her panties, and she would use every one of them.
CHAPTER FIVE
It was a tolerable wedding, as weddings went. Barbie was sweet and pink-faced in a knee-length white gown with veil, and Ken wore a modish tux outfit that looked mouthwateringly good on him. A small wedding-she was the only one of his family present-conducted by a bearded Unitarian minister. Wedding cake. Champagne. Pictures for the memory book. Toasts. Dancing. She'd been here before, Lorna thought, yawning. During the ceremony she toyed briefly with the idea of unzipping her tunic and letting her bare tits dance into view, but it wouldn't have accomplished anything. Instead, she kept her mouth shut, watched, listened, tested scheme after scheme, found them all wanting.
At the reception she drank very little, listened a lot. Ken had no time for her-he was too busy with his bride-but she did manage to catch her brother in a corner. Taking his hand, she planted a chaste, sisterly kiss of congratulation on his cheek, then whispered, "If you're not really busy, why don't we hop into a closet and knock off a quickie? Just to celebrate?"
"You bitch!" he hissed. "Don't you know when to stop?"
"I'll stop when they bury me," she smirked, waltzing away.
The bride and groom left early, even before the serious drinking got under way. Barbie's father got drunk as hell and dragged Lorna onto the floor for some dancing. She endured his bourbon-flavored breath, smiled resignedly when he copped a few ass-feels, and excused herself as soon as was decent. At the bar, filling her champagne glass, she felt someone touch her on the shoulder.
"Oh, hi," she said noncommittally, turning.
"You're Ken's sister, aren't you?" said a tall, sun-kissed dark-haired male.
She nodded, trying to place his face. He'd been in the groom's party, but who was he? Some college buddy of Ken's, she thought.
"I'm Tony Tennant," he went on. "I've never really had the chance to meet you, but this seems like a good opportunity, doesn't it?"
She smiled, neither a come-on nor a get-lost. Wait and see, she thought.
"Didn't Ken tell me you were a showgirl in Las Vegas, or something like that?"
"Not exactly," she replied, "though God knows what he might have told you. Showgirls are very tall, stacked, and they prance around on stage with their boobs showing. Hence the 'show', as in 'showgirl'. I'm a little more private in my habits. Actually, I play and sing in a small piano bar. Pop, rock, requests-I don't make Presley's salary, but I do pretty well." About $300 a week, plus tips, which usually matched the paycheck. It was a good living, even in Vegas, and she enjoyed performing -at the piano, in the bedroom.
"Oooops," he apologized, "I should have known you were too classy to be a chorus girl. Hey, uh, look-Ken and Barbie are long gone, and I don't know a soul here except you. What do you say we split? Get some dinner, maybe-"
"Maybe" was open-ended. It could have meant an art film or a disco or a bar or even a ride on the Staten Island Ferry. What it turned out to mean was a taxi ride to his apartment in the Village.
"It's nice," Lorna complimented, looking around. At the paintings on his walls, at the carpet on his floor, the books in his bookcase. Her fingers brushed the strings of his Spanish guitar. A college boy grown older, not up, she thought.
"Oh, is that a waterbed?" She knew damned well it was.
"Mmmm-hmmm," he said, coming up behind as she peered into the bedroom. Bead hangings rustled around her in the doorway, and she leaned forward, pushing her ass towards him. She rubbed herself on his crotch, a sexy little one-two, not blatantly-rather a challenge, to find out if he were man enough to respond.
He seemed to be. He put his arms around her, crossing them at the wrists, and his left hand was full of her right tit and vice versa. She sighed, boobs rising and falling as he squeezed them Knowingly, and then she straightened, hair brushing his face.
"Why not?" she said aloud, clearly, coolly, and-Why not?-again she thought silently. Ken probably had it bails-deep in Barbie by this time. Why shouldn't she celebrate his wedding, too?
She moved through the bead strings and Tony walked with her, still holding her by the tits. Besides, even a dud stud wasn't bad, if you laid him on a waterbed. It added a little to everybody's technique.
"I couldn't take my eyes off you the whole evening," Tony said earnestly, hurrying to undress. "Did you notice that I was staring at you?"
"Of course," she lied. Oh, why couldn't it be Ken?
He was stripped to his shorts, pulling them down to expose a limp but promising cock, before Loma had even undone the knot in which she'd fixed her blonde hair.
"You're cute," she told him, allowing her hair to fall upon her shoulders in a cascade of soft gold.
She undressed slowly, taking her time. He'd appreciate it that much more when he got it. She undid the silver chain-belt at her waist, then removed her tunic, slacks and shoes.
"Finish me," she breathed, joining him by the bed.
"God, I hope I can!" he laughed. "You have to one of the most gorgeous women I've ever seen, ma." He stroked the cups of her brassiere. Firm." His hand slid down her tummy. "Soft as tin."
"And your for the night," she reminded him, steering one hand to the bra clasp between her tits. Smiling, he unsnapped her, and the cups fell away. Her knockers popped out, nipples hardening. Tony bent towards them, tongue lashing forth. She felt it on her paps, stroked his hair as he licked and toyed with her nipples, teased them to firmer extension. He put a hand around her waist, petting the panty-covered cheeks of her ass, then slipping inside to touch the warm bare flesh.
Lorna squirmed and lifted onto tiptoes as his middle finger eased into the crack of her butt. It diddled momentarily at her asshole, then slid through the columns of her thighs, rubbing her labes on the way. Back and forth his finger sawed, frictioning her pussy-lips, causing her clit to come out for an investigation, and she smiled. Not bad, she thought, even if he wasn't up to Ken's standard. But there were plenty worse, and if she were going to screw anyone this evening, she wanted it to be a decent, satisfactory person. Tony seemed to fit the bill.
"Take off your panties," he invited, nibbling on her tits.
Lorna put a hand down to join his, and together they peeled away her last shred of clothing. Naked and ready, she let him sweep her into his arms, and she lifted her face to take his kiss full on the mouth. His hands went low, cupping her ass, pulling her against him, and she rotated her pussy on the rising shaft of his prick. Stiffening now as it was, Tony's dick seemed more than promising. Maybe, she thought, maybe she was going to luck out tonight. Just like that cunt Barbie was lucking out, wherever she and Ken were.
Oh, God, it was a horrible thought! She could see them, plain as day Barbie with her legs high in the air, her body trembling with passion-Ken upon her-Ken in her with his hard, hot cock-both of them screaming and moaning as the tides of lust washed across their frantic fucking bodies-as they screwed one another to satiation time and again this honeymoon night-as Barbie stuffed herself full of the sexual power Lorna craved now, more than ever-
"Screw me," she told Tony. "Screw me deep, screw me hard, and screw me often. Make it good. Make it better than good. And if you're not man enough to take care of me, you'd better call for reinforcements now."
"Is your cunt insured?" he challenged in reply. "Because if it isn't, it should be."
He led her hand to the fully erected bulk of his cock, and bulky it was. Thick and pointy-tipped, a real wedge of a tool. Lorna stroked it, sorry only that it wasn't her brother's. She let his cock go and swan-dived onto the bed, laughing as it rocked and flowed beneath her. In a second Tony was at her side, rolling into a tangle of limbs and mouths.
Somehow she reversed herself, and he began to fondle the sensitive inner areas of her thighs. His fingers moved tantalizingly close to her moist pussy, arousing the gash but not yet directly touching it. Lorna sighed, wiggling her ass, and she took his cock in both hands. The end was already wet, a colorless liquid seeping from his cum-slit, and she added to that wetness with a liberal coating of her saliva. As her tongue lolled across the tip of Tony's rod, he pulled her onto his face, nose pushing up into the slight gape of her iwat.
"Oooooh, yeah," she hummed, breathing across his dick as she spoke. The water-filled mattress swayed beneath them and it was a pleasant sensation, almost like floating down the river with Huck Finn on a raft. Lazily, she opened her wet-lipped mouth and permitted his cock to venture inside.
He was quite energetic, by contrast, and she shifted her legs and butt as he plied his tongue in and out of her slit. Her clitoris was fully erect, not as big as his prick but a hell of a lot more responsive, and each time he kissed her button, Lorna felt a fresh ooze of girl-cum flow from her slice. She was wet and squishy in the cunt now, and it promised to get better. Tony had a clever trick of pulling at her inner cunt-lips with his mouth, shaking her labes within the naturally constricted area in much the same way a dog shook a bone, and occasionally he wormed his nose into the mouth of her pussy, where the muscular ring of tissue squeezed him joyously.
Still, he wasn't Ken. What was the difference? She wondered, sucking on Tony's pecker. To Tony, she was no more than a casual pickup who'd agreed to put out. They knew one another's names and they were getting acquainted with one another's sex organs. There was nothing more.
Ken-? Well, you couldn't fuck someone at fairly frequent intervals for thirteen years and not feel something toward them. In Lorna's case, it was something as close to romantic love, perhaps, as she would ever allow herself to get. And she was realizing now just how close.
Why couldn't Tony have been the one to meet and court Barbie-doll? Why did it have to be Ken? She sucked cock harder, trying not to think, and Tony moaned into her crotch.
"Take it easy, babe-don't bite my dick off!"
Chastened-it had been a long time since anyone had been forced to give her instructions on how to suck a cock-Lorna relaxed the tension of her jaws. She moved into a slower, more sensual type of oral love that allowed him to thrust deeply into her throat while her tongue played a rippling pattern of caress and stimulation around his cock. He seemed to appreciate it, and he moved gently against her lips, eager but not aggressive. His energy he put into the gobbling of her snatch, and occasionally he flicked her clit with his teeth, so sharply as to make Lorna jump and nearly strangle herself on his prong. But it was nice, and she found herself somehow relieved to be making it with someone who didn't mean a damned thing to her personally. After the nasty scenes with Ken this morning she was in the mood for some impromptu zipless fucking.
She came without warning, little ripples and contractions bursting through her pussy, a tingling glow in her tummy, and she pressed her cunt down upon his face, savoring the momentary pleasure, the comfort of his nose and lips upon her flesh. His tongue scooted across the swollen labes until her shuddering abated, and then he reached to touch her cheek.
"I want to fuck you now," he said.
Her jaws ached a little from sucking, and she was willing to release his cock.
"Call your shot," she invited. "You gave me my jollies and I'm ready to give you yours."
"On your belly," he suggested, running his hands across her warm, vibrant body. "I can't get over you, honey. What have I done to deserve you?"
You were in the right place at the right time, she thought smugly. And obedient to his wishes, Lorna rolled onto her belly, legs parted widely for his convenience. He moved between them stabbing with his cock. Loma humped her ass a little higher, feeling the bed rock beneath her stomach, and his prick was driving in, in-all-the-way-
"Oh, Christ," she moaned, "you're bigger than you look."
"And you're tighter than anyone would think. Don't you fuck at all? Jeez, oooh, talk about a snug fit!"
Easily, he molded himself to her shape, sliding a hand beneath her body to play with her tits once more. He was big but not heavy, and the bed floated so pleasantly that Lorna wasn't at all uncomfortable. She worked her ass in a rhythmic swiveling motion as he thrust his cock into her cunt, and the buildup of his stroking was gradual and enjoyable indeed.
By the time he'd worked his way to a fast, furious thrusting, Lorna was more than ready. She met each of his fuck-strokes with a clever variation of her own, and it was definite-this would be among her top ten zipless fucks of all time. Not the earth-shattering convulsive orgasms Ken could give her, sure, but if she were to die in the process of balling Tony tonight, the undertaker would have a hell of a time getting the smile off her face.
"Harder now, darling," she told him, but he was already stepping up his tempo, and she knew from his fast lunges that he was almost there. Relax and enjoy, she told herself, but that was no problem either. Her pussy was alive with warm feelings, it was dripping cream, and if he kept up his friction-fucking, there was no question that-
"I'm commmmmmiinnnnngggggg!" he sang, driving his cock up her cunt-hole six or seven times in blindingly swift succession, then ramming home and shuddering against her pussy.
"Ohhhhhh!" Lorna cried out, a light, silvery cry that floated in the air like the peal of a tiny perfect bell. She closed her eyes and quivered, little needles of stimulation pricking every inch of her flesh. A fist seemed to open and close in the pit of her stomach. For a few moments of pleasure it was almost as if she were abed with Ken once more, but as the come-glow faded, inevitable reality stuck up its ugly head.
Oh, not so ugly. Tony was a personable, attractive man, probably about Ken's age, which made him a few years younger than Lorna, but hell-once you passed twenty, age didn't mean a damned thing. And he had a fine cock, a cock he knew how to use for a woman's satisfaction. Not to mention his tongue. Precious few women would be in the mood to let him get away short of a long-term affair, but Lorna was among that precious few. She doubted if she'd ever see or ball Tony again, after tonight, and it wasn't his fault at all.
She was still stretched on her tits and belly, grooving on the water-filled mattress as it swished and swayed beneath her body. Tony sat up beside her, lighting a joint. He took a deep hit and passed it to her. She didn't even raise her head as she smoked. This evening Loma was just drifting with the current. She liked the feeling.
"Do you want to hear your rating?" she asked.
"Do you give ratings?"
"Mmm-hmm. And for you, A-minus."
"Minus?"
"Mmm-hmmm. That way you have an incentive to get better."
He put his hand on her cunt, squeezing it from behind. She was sopping with his cum and her own, and he squished his fingers in the hot, dripping pie. "Mid-terms are coming up, baby."
She rolled over to face him, and they wrestled back and forth for supremacy. Lorna preferred to be on top, for she came more easily in that position, but when Tony propped himself above her, she didn't protest. Instead, she parted her legs, jiggling her body as he rubbed her slit with his cock-head. Life flowed into him like electricity, and in moments his prick was hard enough for fucking.
"Faster this time," she suggested. "Next time we'll do it really slow. If you're good for a next time."
"Do I get an A-plus if I am?"
"Could be. Depends on how you handle your exams. And Ms. Professor. Oooh, I like the way you're handling my nipples! Now why don't you quit fucking around, and start fucking?"
Even on the bottom, Lorna was in command. She directed him with her hands and her pussy and her legs and her lips, and he turned in an Oscar-worthy performance. By the time his cock got around to spitting sperm up her twat, she'd moaned her way through a pair of delicious matched orgasms, and she was ready for more.
"Are you trying to wear me out the first night?" he protested, stretching beside her. "Hey! I've got a dynamite idea! Didn't you say you were on vacation?"
"Mmmm-humm," she said lazily. "I have two weeks coming to me, if I decide to take it all right now."
"Well, I have a vacation due me, too. What if I took it now, and you and I split for some tropical hideaway? I'd like to get to know you a lot better, Lorna. What about Jamaica, or Martinique, or St. Croix? Nassau's getting kinda tacky. There's always Santa Catarina ..."
"Santa Catarina? I don't know that one."
"Wait till next season. It's about to be discovered. Ken and Barbie are lucky. They'll catch it now, you know? Dig it while it's still unspoiled. By next Christmas there'll be a MacDonald's hamburger joint on the beach and Reader's nicest will be offering vacation trips in their sweepstakes contest."
"Oh," Lorna said, "is that where Ken and Barbie are honeymooning? Santa Catarina?"
Ken hadn't said much when she asked him about his honeymoon plans. As if he were afraid she'd be so petty as to tag along and try to disrupt his marriage or something equally tasteless.
"Yeah," Tony said, not even noticing how her blue eyes had begun to gleam and sparkle. Or perhaps he thought her bright-eyed expression was a product of the fucking he'd given her. "So what do you say? Like to fly away with me for a week or so? I'd like to pound your ass in the sand. Hell, I'm ready to pound your ass right now! Come to daddy!"
"Uh ... no," she said, eluding his grasping hands. "I'd love to, but I just remembered something I have to do."
She picked up her clothes, hurried into them. As if, she thought, as if I'd follow them like some love-starved, pathetic puppy. As if I'd tag along and try to become the snake in their private Garden of Eden. As if. As if.. . Where'in the hell was Santa Catarina? It had to be in the West Indies. Someone at Kennedy should know, should be able to book her on a flight first thing in the morning.
"Is something wrong?" Tony asked.
"Of course not, darling!" Lorna assured him. "I had a marvelous time, but I have something to take care of. Lie still. I'll let myself out. Next time I'm in town, I'll definitely let myself in. Kiss-kiss."
With any luck at all, Santa C was close to the Dominican Republic, where a couple could be cheaply and legally divorced in about five minutes. And Lorna had just begun to fight.
CHAPTER SIX
Panting, moaning, Ken Parker worked his cock in his bride's tight pussy. She clutched at him with hot, desperate hands, and he saw her trying t smile, but he knew that she was uncomfortable that she wasn't enjoying his lovemaking. Her cunt gripped him in a tight, dry clutch and his cock felt as if it were being skinned alive. "I'm sorry, darling," he apologized, stroking gently as he could.
Barbie twisted beneath him, her twat clenching his prick. Her lower lips bore teeth marks, when she'd chewed to keep from crying out, and the sight saddened him.
Soft music played from a wall speaker romantic, lush, with silky string passages, and half-empty magnum of champagne stood in an ic bucket on the room-service table. They'd flow here from Kennedy last night, via Nassau and shuttle copter. Perhaps if they'd stayed overnight in New York, it might have been better.
Perhaps there was something inherently unromantic about consummating a marriage in the middle of the afternoon. But he knew better.
Barbie had been a virgin when he met her at the hospital, and it had taken weeks of courtship before she surrendered her cherry to him one evening at his apartment. Her first fuck wasn't entirely satisfactory, but they were so much in love it didn't matter. And besides, she'd told him as she wiped away little pearly tears, women never enjoyed it the first time. Later, when the pain was gone...
He wondered if it was something he was doing. Was his sexual technique too rough? Lorna had never complained, but Lorna was a perverted nymphomaniac with an incest complex. Barbie was sweet and pure and innocent. She simply didn't know, not yet, how to respond to a man's fucking. But she'd learn. He'd help her, and together they would make this marriage perfect in every way.
Perfect. Why was she crying now, then?
"I'll stop," he said sincerely. "Here, let me take it out."
"N-N-No," Barbie sobbed, her green eyes misty with tears. She clutched at his shoulders. "Please, Ken, go ahead. It really doesn't hurt. I'm just crying b-b-because I'm so-so-happy!"
And she gave him a smile so brave his heart ached in sympathy. Beneath him, she twitched in what was meant to be an enticing manner, but her facial muscles tightened as the pole of his prick throbbed inside her constricted cunt.
"Ohhhhhhhh," she moaned involuntarily, closing her eyes.
Ken pushed gingerly with his dick, wincing when he saw the pain on her face. In spite of himself, he couldn't help recalling how it had been last night. With his sister, for God's sake! The way Lorna had moaned for it, the way she'd grabbed his cock, stroked it, petted it, played with it, teased its head in and out of her dripping twat before allowing him to thrust inside nuts-deep. The vibrant, electric energy of her body wrapped around his. The expert flicking of her tongue around and around the shaft and head of his dick. The way she swallowed his cock to the very root and sucked the sperm out of him like a sexual vampire.
"I love you, Barbie," he whispered, damning himself for wishing that his bride had one half his sister's sexual hunger. Damning himself for remembering, for knowing....
"Oh, Christ!" he yelped, plunging furiously, not thinking of what he was doing. It was a desperate stabbing thrust, one that derived its power from the mental demons he needed to exorcise, and Barbie wasn't ready for it. She screamed, her face so white the freckles on her nose looked like smallpox.
He felt her body convulse beneath him-convulse from pain, not from ecstasy-and he groaned in sick shame. As delicately as he could Ken extracted his cock from her pussy.
"I'm sorry, dear," he said in a weak, shamed voice, dismounting Barbie.
She was still crying, and he wished he could cry with her. Not for anything on earth would he have hurt her, but he had hurt her and he couldn't take it back now.
"Let's forget about it for the present," he suggested. "Here. Let me get you some champagne
And later we'll go down to dinner. Maybe afterwards, when we're both relaxed-"
"Oh, damn it," Barbie sobbed, "do you think it will be any better then?" She touched her slit, shivering as her finger rubbed the dry, aching gash. "There's something wrong with me," she told him. "I mean something really wrong. How can you even sit beside me . . ."
She looked at him. Her eyes implored his forgiveness, but he couldn't hold her at fault. Barbie looked down. His cock was standing up, its shaft and tip scarlet, rubbed raw by the unwilling tightness of her cunt.
"Oh, and look at you!" she went on. "Look what I've done! It's always this way, darling. I lead you on, but I can't deliver, and you're frustrated and-"
She touched his cock. He groaned, for his meat was sore with its stiffness and hungry with its need for relief.
"At least I can do this much for you," Barbie sighed, closing her fist around his prick-shaft. She shut her eyes as well, as if she couldn't bear to look at what she was doing now, as if she were ashamed that she was jacking him off.
They'd gone to bed six times before their marriage. Twice Ken had persisted in fucking until his cock gushed inside her pussy, though a helpful condom prevented his seed from entering her womb. The other four times-the last four times-it had ended up this way. His cock aching and unfulfilled Barbie sobbing as she masturbated him to the climax her twat denied.
At least she was getting some more jerk-off experience. The first time she'd been clumsy and fumble-fingered, but now her hand felt almost natural wrapped around his cock, sliding the loose outer shell of skin up and down. Indeed, she approached a certain sensuality of motion which made Ken shift his buttocks in pleasure. He reached down to touch her hand as she masturbated him.
"Yes, honey, yes! Do it nice and slow and easy. Do it for me. I love you."
"And I love you, too," she panted, her bare, small-nippled tits jiggling as her hand action grew a delightful degree faster.
Ken's balls ached from his need, and the stones rolled in their sac as his bride applied a wrist-flicking stroke at the proper time. He put his hands on her tits, kneading the angel-like blossoms of her breasts, feeling the nipples hard but cold between his fingers. No matter how much he squeezed the paps, no matter how vigorously he pulled on their rubbery extensions, they' seemed to remain cold, unfeeling. He thought of the large pink smears adorning Lora's boobs, of the hot nipples which lifted from those pink buds at the slightest provocation, and he could remember sucking and licking them a hundred-a thousand-times. The cries of joy she made as his tongue scraped her nips. The way her legs would twitch, then spring apart to make room for his hand or his cock. And the steaming juices which oozed from Lorna's pussy whenever she even thought about being screwed.
"Barbie," he said. "Barbie, Barbie, Barbie!" as if the repetition of her name could banish the troublesome thoughts in his traitorous mind. "I want to love you. I want you to love me."
"I do," she whispered, "I do. So much, Ken. So very, very much."
Her tits, round and hard in his hands. His cock, throbbing inside her stroking fist. A hell of a way to celebrate a marriage. But it would get better. It had to get better. He loved her desperately, he needed her desperately. Only the treasure of her could save him from the swamp into which Lorna had been dragging him.
God! It was disgusting how every train of thought led inexorably to Lorna. Barbie's soft lips on his only reminded him that Lorna kissed hotly, wetly, her tongue busy and active from the first brushing of mouths. Barbie's valiant struggles to endure his cock's entrance brought to mind his sister's sluttish eagerness, the way her legs were always open, her cunt always sloppy and ripe to be fucked. No! He had to think about the future, not the past. Of how it would be when Barbie overcame her initial nervousness, when she got adjusted to the joys and pleasures of sex and marriage. Soon, he told himself. Very soon. And-
"Ahhh!!" he groaned, lifting upward as his cock exploded and streamed cum all over his bride's clutching fist. He reached for her hand with his own, locking around her, locking her into place, and his prick swelled and shuddered and gushed in her grip, until his hand and her own were wet and sticky with his ejaculation, as was the sheet beneath them. It was a hot, thick cum, more ferocious than he'd have imagined before it struck, and he wished to God that he'd been plunging into his wife's greasy, loving twat instead of being jerked off like a high-school boy with a reluctant date.
"Thank you, darling," he said softly. "Would you like some champagne?"
"No, not now. I have to go "to the bathroom."
To wash her hands of his cum, he knew, though she wouldn't insult him by saying so. Ken watched his wife as she arose from the bed and moved across the floor towards the bathroom. She was beautiful. A fresh wholesome face, set off perfectly by her green eyes and freckles and the close-cropped reddish hair. A lithe, lovely body. Not as exuberantly developed as Lorna's, perhaps, and certainly Barbie wasn't about to turn up as a Penthouse cover girl. Well, it was Penthouse's loss. Her tits were small, high, round, and firm, exquisite to touch, to kiss, to feel bare and rubbing against his own bare chest. Her hips were slim but solid, too, and the legs long in proportion to the rest of her body. She was a little over five feet tall, but perfectly arranged On her small frame, and her body was poetry in motion. Inside that body was a tender, loving woman, one whom he wished to keep beside him all the days of their lives, to bear his children, to grow old with him. Was it such a futile dream?
He touched his cock, depleted now, but in him there stirred the beginnings of renewed desire and he took his hand away quickly. He couldn't impose himself upon Barbie again, not so soon after the episode just completed. Later, when they'd napped, when they'd gone down to dinner. Later. He'd turn down the lights. Perhaps they could go out on the balcony and watch the stars twinkling in the Caribbean sky. And it would happen, as it must.
She'd nestle in his arms as the night breeze blew from the sea, and they'd speak soft, tender words of endearment. She would raise her lips innocently, opening them slightly for his kiss, and her tits would spring into his hands as if by magic. Their bodies would come together, warm, hungry, needing, and when he he touched her between the legs, he would find her cunt moist and open, the petals dripping with dew. Into that cunt he would move slowly, warming her, arousing her gradually, with the velvety tip of his cock. She'd make little humming cries of surprise as the pleasure of fucking first swept across her, as she realized how grand it could be. And then his prick, slipping deeper, finding her interior already awash with lubrication. Her heart beating against his chest, his heart thumping in reply.
He could see it so clearly. He could feel the eagerness of her body, smell the aroma of her hair, of her aroused pussy, hear the whining little cries of excitement, of involvement, and at last of fulfillment. It was as if he'd already done it, as if-
"Oh my God," he said, scarlet with shame. He had done it. That time he and Lorna went to Florida for a shameful, degraded vacation orgy. He was remembering Lorna, not anticipating Barbie. He was an animal, a vicious beast who didn't deserve the treasure of Barbie's love. Perhaps he should confess it to her. All the sordid details. But would she understand? Would she realize that he was only an innocent child, seduced by a hot, horny older sister who had apparently been born without the slightest fiber of morality in her beautiful body? Or would she look at him with the stricken disgust he now felt toward himself? He didn't know, and he couldn't afford to make a wrong guess. If he was honest, fine. But what if it cost him Barbie?
She came out of the bathroom, smiling, her hands damp from the sink. "I'm still tired, Ken," she said. "Would it be all right if I took another nap? And would you hold me very close while I sleep? Darling, I want to be a good wife to you, and I have to know that you love me. In spite of-in spite of the way I am-"
She appeared to be on the verge of tears again, and his heart went out to her. Ken pulled her onto the bed with him, hugging her to his chest. The nearness of her beautiful body caused a stirring of interest in his cock, but he willed the impulse away, concentrating instead upon holding her in his arms. Her hair was soft and fragrant against his face and he burrowed through the reddish locks, pressing his lips to her earlobe. She quivered in his arms, sniffling. He eased onto his side, taking Barbie with him, and she put her head to rest on his chest. In a moment she was asleep.
* * *
As Tony had advised Lorna the night before, Santa Catarina was an island on the verge of discovery. The Governeur Hotel, the only one on Santa Cat, was about half-filled at the moment, with a sprinkling of tourists and visitors from
Europe and Canada and the States. The village of Princess Royal was still unspoiled, though it couldn't last long. Major travel magazines were preparing articles on this island hideaway, and before much longer casinos and yachts and commercialism would reign in full sway. At the moment, however, it was a delightful, isolated place to spend a honeymoon. Tomorrow, perhaps, he'd take her fishing. Boats could be chartered. They might combine a fishing trip with a sightseeing tour of the nearby waters. Oh, there was a week's time free for them. They could do anything, everything. And soon their life would be perfect in every way.
As Barbie dressed for dinner, in a conservative pantsuit, Ken watched her from the bed. Her bra was almost transparent, a mere wisp of fabric containing her breasts. He could see the small brown points of her nipples as clearly as if she were bare-titted in front of him, and he loved those nipples so much he couldn't repress a sigh when she slipped into her tunic top.
She went into the bathroom to check her makeup and he followed. As she smoothed on her lipstick, he tried to imagine his wife's mouth opening to receive his cock. She'd never done that for him, nor for anyone else. Someday, perhaps, but the idea frightened her and he didn't want to rush things. She couldn't know how much he loved to have his cock sucked, how much he loved in turn to eat a pussy. Lora had taught him that.
Again, Lorna. Was there no escaping her memory? "Lady," he said to his wife, speaking a little louder than he should have, to mask the tension in his mind, "you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Anywhere, anyplace, anytime. And to know that you are mine, all mine, is-"
"Barbie laughed shyly. "I'm not ever pretty," she said. "You're just talking that way because there's no one around to compare me with. God, I wish I had Lorna's face and figure! Your sister is incredible-looking, Ken. I'm sorry I didn't meet her long ago. Maybe, though-maybe she can help me do something with the yucky gifts nature left under my Christmas tree."
She was selling herself short, he wanted to say, but he couldn't speak at all. Her mention of Lorna was like a cold-bladed knife straight to the heart.
"There!" Barbie announced finally. "I don't think I'll frighten the rest of the guests now. Shall we go down to eat?"
The elevator was right out of a 40s film and Ken did Bogart impressions "on their way down. Barbie laughed in all the right places and she kissed him with a surprising intensity just as the lift came to a stop on the proper floor. She strained against him, arms clutching, her tits alive within the tunic and bra, and he groaned, feeling his desire build. Here, he thought. Here. Right in the goddamned elevator! He should lay her down upon the floor, strip away her slacks and white panties, and mount her for their first real marriage fuck.
The urge clung, stirring blood into his cock, and she held him tighter, straining her arms to encompass him. Her tummy and cunt-mound rubbed him suggestively and passionate desire was a white flame in his chest.
"No," he said finally, unclenching her arms from around his neck. "If someone opened the door and saw us like this, we'd probably be thrown out of the hotel."
He laughed, to underline the joke, but it was a hollow laugh. Barbie stepped back, running a hand across her cheek.
"I don't know what got into me," she said, "For a moment I- But you're right. We'd better go."
Together they entered the dining room. A white-haired Negro waiter, solemn in his age and dignity, approached. "Table for two, sir?"
Ken nodded, then felt Barbie tugging at his sleeve.
"Look," she whispered. "Doesn't that woman remind you of your sister? The one by the window. They say, though, that everyone has a double somewhere."
Ken followed the nod of Barbie's head, and then he wasn't listening to his young wife at all. It was not a resemblance that had caught her eye. It was an identity. That was Lorna. Oh, Christ! he swore silently, wanting to turn and flee, but it was too late. She'd seen them. She was rising. She was coming towards them, a smile beaming on her beautiful face, and Ken's heart seemed to die inside him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Darlings," gushed Lorna, puffing on her cigarette. "This is too, too! What an incredible surprise, to look up and see the pair of you standing by the door!"
"Yes, isn't it," Ken said dully. He and Barbie were at Loma's table. She wouldn't hear to their dining alone.
"A really lovely island, too," she went on, "or-" sly wink- "have you had time to discover that yet? Oh, but you're on a honeymoon! You don't have time for scenery!"
"How did you happen to pick Santa Cat?"
Barbie asked innocently.
"Someone told me about it," Lorna confided, "and since I had a couple of weeks before going back to Las Vegas, I thought I'd come down and give it a try. Anyway, my agent has been talking about getting me work in the islands, so I'm checking out the territory."
Ken didn't say anything. It was difficult for him to speak at all. The tablecloth was elegantly long, dangling almost to the floor, and under its cover Loma had removed one of her shoes. As she chattered with Barbie, Lorna was using one nylon-stockinged foot with a wicked cleverness on her brother's crotch. No one in the room could see what she was up to, and he was thankful, for his cock had begun to stand up, achingly erect in his trousers. And the harder his prick got, the more devilishly she plied it with her toes. How could she maintain that innocent poise? How could she be so friendly and charming with Barbie while she was diddling his prick with her foot? Ken stirred uncomfortably, trying to scoot his chair back just a trifle so she'd not be able to reach his crotch. The bitch! He wondered how she'd found out where they were. Barbie's parents knew. Had they confided in his darling sister? They had no reason not to. He wished he were somewhere else, and Loma in hell where she was certainly bound anyway. And himself along with her, he reflected. If she stroked his cock a few times more, he'd shoot off in his pants.
"Uh .. . yeah," Barbie said. "We were talking about going fishing tomorrow. Ken made arrangements to charter a small boat."
Lorna shook her head, wry-lipped. "Well," she announced, "I don't intend to let him drag you off on a boring sea excursion. I'll tell you what, Barbie. Why don't we let him go fishing? All by himself. We could go shopping for native crafts, and then spend the afternoon working on our tans. Lord, Ken's kept you such a secret! I'll never forget how astonished I was when he broke the news to me. And now I have a sister-in-law whom I don't even know. That situation must be remedied. What do you say, darling? Would you rather spend a day on a smelly boat trying to catch poor smelly fish, or would you-?"
Barbie looked imploringly at Ken. "I really don't care for fishing," she confessed. "Would you be awfully hurt, Ken?"
He signed. Lorna's foot had retreated from his crotch, just when he needed it most. His cock throbbed, stiff and unsatisfied, and he wished he could whip it out right now. By God, he'd use his own hand on the damned thing, and when he came, he'd squirt his sticky seed right into Lorna's Cheshire Cat grin. He'd flog her face with his steely hard-on. How would she like that, the cunt? She'd love it. And afterwards, she'd lick his cock clean. He shifted his ass, wishing his hard cock would either spurt spontaneously in his pants or else wilt. His entire life was collapsing around him, and he didn't have the stamina to fight back. Lorna's unexpected appearance here on Santa Cat had shattered him spiritually and physically. He felt twenty years older and a thousand years more degraded. Especially when he saw his sweet, pure bride warming so happily to his cunning, vicious sister. Maybe Lorna was right. Maybe there was no God in heaven. He knew that he was being punished more severely than anyone had ever deserved to be punished, and he was helpless in the face of it.
If Barbie noticed her husband's dilemma, she gave no indication. She hung on every word from Lorna, and she smiled now and then, a sweet smile that showed off her white teeth and the charming width of her lips, and Loma smiled, too.
Like her brother, Loma was thinking of a great many things, and not the least of them was a reassessment of Barbie. The girl-she couldn't be more than twenty-one-had her charming side. She wasn't pushy at all. Like all aggressive personalities. And if not what Loma would call beautiful, the child was at least cute. Yesterday she'd despised the very idea of Barbie, but this evening she found herself warming to the person. Live and learn, she thought. To underscore that reflection, she gave Ken one last poke in the peter with her toe, then slipped her foot to the floor and into her shoe. The look on his face was worth a thousand dollars. For a moment he appeared to be on the verge of coming spontaneously, and she gave him a quick wink which Barbie didn't catch.
"Is it settled, then?" Loma asked, when they'd finished their dinner. "We'll leave Ken to his fishing poles and worms, or whatever disgusting thing he uses for bait, and we'll take in the sights of Santa Cat. Right?"
"If it's all right with Ken," Barbie said firmly. The dutiful, loving little wife. Both women looked at Lorna's brother.
"Whatever you want, Lorna," he said glumly. "Who am I to interfere with your needs and wishes?"
"Fine," she said. "Now, listen, darlings-I know you'd rather be alone, so I'm going up to my room. It's on the third floor, if you need me for anything. Number 312, I think. The desk can tell you for sure. So! Good night, "darlings, and I'll see you about ten, Barbie? We can comb the bazaar, have lunch, then find ourselves some beachfront. Till tomorrow, then." And she departed, long tanned legs flashing provocatively through the slitted sides of her dinner dress.
Even from the back, Lorna knew, she was an eye-catching sight. Her dress was almost backless, scooped scandalously low, and the side slits went high enough to advertise the fact that she wasn't wearing panties. The thighs that showed through were delectable ones, she was aware, and while she hoped that everyone in the dining room was feasting his or her eyes, she especially Wanted Ken to see, to remember. His Barbie was a wistfully pretty little doll, but his sister was a woman, constructed upon the grand, classical lines, and it was important that he be reminded of that fact, as often and as unforgettably as possible.
In her room, she stripped off the gown, watching her nipples pucker in the air-conditioned breeze. Lora stood in the middle of the floor, cupping her tits, feeling the power and the excitement that flowed through her body like supercharged blood. A day with Barbie-well, the child was pleasant enough in her own right, and naive enough to give Lorna a guided tour of her weak spots. There must be a few, at least, and she would use them to her own advantage. With any luck at all, she'd end up accompanying Ken and Barbie to Santo Domingo for a divorce, the perfect way to end a honeymoon.
It was chilly in the room, but she hadn't brought any pajamas or nightgowns, so Lorna went into the bathroom and fetched a towel, which she wrapped around her body. That cut down slightly on the coolness but it didn't interfere with a feeling of relaxed nudity. Her nipples were stiff as nails by now, and the terrycloth of the towel rubbed them in just the right way. She touched her gash, finger delving through the blonde wisps of hair.
"Damp," she said aloud. "You wicked girl, you got a little turned on, turning on baby brother."
Wow! She could still feel his cock bulging against her toes. Marriage hadn't interfered with his sex drive. Lorna sat down in the chair, wondering if Ken and Barbie were going at one another like rutting warthogs at this very minute. Somehow, having gotten closer to her sister-in-law, she couldn't quite imagine the girl moaning in Ken's arms. There was a certain shyness about Barbie. A promising shyness, true, but a far cry from the assured poise of a fulfilled woman.
"I wonder," she said. "I really wonder."
Unconsciously as she sat, Lorna had allowed her hand to stray once again between her legs. She felt her finger slipping into the fur-lined rift of her pussy and she spread her thighs a trifle to make it easier.
"Mmmmm," she hummed contentedly, spurring her clit, flogging it to a quick and sudden burst of pleasure that sent hot flashes up and down her spine.
Her toes wiggled, bare and red-painted, as the little tremors of orgasm fluttered inside her pussy's moist mouth, and she rubbed the heel of her hand back and forth on her cunt-mound, hoping the warmth and tingling would stay just like this forever. But the feeling ebbed, as she knew it must, and her hand fell away. It was getting late. She should go to bed soon. Tomorrow was a big day.
But she really wasn't tired. The excitement of being here, of being poised and ready to strike like a serpent, sent adrenalin flooding through her veins. Probably she should do what she sometimes did in Vegas, after a big night. A few drinks would put her into a drowsy mood and relax her supercharged body. Oh, but dressing and going down to the bar was too much of a bitch to bother with. Lorna rose slinkily and went to the phone.
"Room service," she said. "This is 312. Could you please send up a fifth of Black Velvet, ice, and soda? Thank you."
Not five minutes later there was a knocking at her door. "Room service," said a resonant, pleasantly accented voice. Lorna opened the door and a young man in bellhop uniform entered, pushing a table-tray before him.
He was black and beautiful. No other word seemed adequate. Ebony skin, glossy in the light, as if he'd been waxed and polished, and she wondered if he would feel as smooth as he looked. His features were excellent-a high, thin nose which pointed to at least a trace of European ancestry, a wide mouth, full-lipped and sensual, a strong chin, and flashing dark eyes-and his body was stunning, even clothed. He might have been an inch taller than Lorna but all the proportions were perfect and she didn't find his comparative shortness objectionable. Quite the contrary.
He put the tray beside her bed, his eyes flickering in Loma's direction. She'd become so accustomed to the towel she was wearing as her only garment that, for a moment, she wondered what he was looking at. Obviously at her sleek, tanned thighs and the little curls of blonde pussy hair which curled enticingly from the lower edge of the towel wrapped around Lorna. Even a bellhop was entitled to look, she reminded herself as she went to get some change from her purse.
It was on the floor beside the chair and she had to bend over to fetch it. When she did, she was fully aware that her bare ass sprang into his view, the tanned curvy butt-cheeks and their inviting split, and the tufts of hair showing between her legs from the rear. And why did it take her such a long time to find the coins in her purse? She turned at last, offering him the tip, and his eyes lifted slowly to meet hers. He looked at her and she stared back, and she knew men well enough to read his every thought.
"What were you staring at?" she challenged, closing her hand over the coins.
He didn't answer. Lorna smiled, and her elbow touched the flimsy knot which held the towel in place. With a swish the terrycloth fell to the floor and she stood before him completely nude.
"Nice," he said. "Is there anything else you need, ma'am? Besides the whisky and soda?"
"If you have to ask," Lorna countered, "maybe you don't have the stuff to deliver."
She put her weight onto one hip and stood facing him, her pose casually defiant. The next move was his.
He reached for her hand and pulled her to him. Lorna felt like the female half of an Apache dance. She moved like a dancer as he spun her, then brought her smack against him, his head turning sideways, lips parting for a kiss. One of his hands caught the back of her skull and she melted against his mouth, accepting his tongue where it probed and thrust. She put a hand around his waist, folded a leg behind one of his own, and she let her pussy grind suggestively on the front of his pants. Something was definitely restless inside his trousers. Either he had a pet snake or he enjoyed the closeness of her body.
She didn't have to stand on tiptoes to kiss him. Her mouth and his were on almost a direct level, which meant that she had no need to strain herself. She'd been fucked by black men before, once or twice, to see if it was any different with them (it hadn't been; men were men, in every way that meant anything), and she recognized in her nostrils a certain indefinable but unmistakable musky body scent which he shared with those others. And his skin was as smooth as satin where her fingers skated across it. Talk about drinking Black Velvet, she thought. She was kissing Black Velvet.
He released her, and she rocked back, eyeing him inquisitively. "Your credentials seem to be in order," she declared. "Would you care to finish your delivery?"
He removed his jacket and tie, fingers starting to work on the buttons of his shirt. Lorna brought two tumblers from the bathroom and fixed a stiff whisky and soda for each of them. He stripped off his shirt, thrilling her with the sight of his dark-skinned perfection from head to waist, and she handed him his drink. The front of his uniform trousers was pushed out by an even more thrilling sight, and as she sipped her whisky, she couldn't take her eyes off his boner's bulge. With one hand she began to rub his crotch.
"I don't even know your name," she reminded him.
"I'm Maceo," he said, his voice richly accented in the unmistakable West Indian manner. "Your friendly room-service boy."
"Mmmm, not a boy," Lorna corrected.
She unzipped his trousers and thrust her hand inside, unable to wait any longer. He wasn't wearing shorts and her hand made immediate contact with the shaft of his prick. Rigidly hard, his cock wasn't as thick as Ken's but she suspected that it might be as much as an inch longer.
'Oh, more!" she enthused, pulling it into the light for a look. "Oh, so much more!" A slender lance of perhaps nine and a half or ten inches in length, Maceo's cock gleamed like dark chocolate in the lamp's shine. He sipped at his drink as she dropped to her knees before him, her hands caressing his prick, her lips blowing warm breath upon it.
"Have you ever made it with a black man before?" he asked. "I ought to warm you-you'll probably be spoiled for any other cock."
"Hah!" Lorna chuckled. "You're the one who should worry about being spoiled."
She angled the head of his rod downward, thrusting his cock unexpectedly into her glass of iced whisky and soda. He yelped, spilling half his drink on her thigh, and she jerked in reaction, for the mixture was cold. But she held his stiff cock in place, soaking it in booze, until she could stand it no longer. Quickly she lifted his dick and, while it was still dripping whisky and soda, she popped it into her mouth.
At first the end of his cock felt chilly, but she sucked voraciously until his natural body heat returned and she heard him laugh deeply, richly.
"That's nice," he said. "Where did you learn that trick?"
"I just made it up," Lorna replied, dipping his cock again. "It's called drinking Black Velvet from Black Velvet."
Again she sucked his prick in, pulling on his outer layer of flesh until the foreskin retracted and his swollen slick knob lay bare and open to her wicked tongue.
Her tummy tingled from the moment's stimulation and from the whisky and soda she'd sipped from her glass. With her eyes closed reverently, she began to suck his cock deeper, using her tongue to keep it interesting. His prick was long, but she'd sucked other cocks fully as long. It required a little more effort, a little more relaxation of the muscles, to take it into her throat, but it could be done, and she did it. She heard the clink as Maceo set down his drink and, a moment later, both his hands grasped the sides of her head and he began to fuck in and out of her eager mouth.
"Suck it, suck it, suck it," he chanted, as if he were an island voodoo priest casting some magic spell. But he wasn't getting magic. He was getting experience.
She moved her head from side to side, pulling his prick this way and that, and now that the whisky taste was all sucked away, she could pick up the African flavor of his meat. Her head moved forward and back, releasing all but the very tip of his cock, ingesting it to the very root, and her tongue fluttered and skipped along the barrel of his prick all the while, stinging him with bitchily clever tricks Loma had been years perfecting. She'd sucked her first cock at fourteen, and there were still times when she could recall exactly how it had felt, how it had tasted, the first time a male organ vomited cum into her mouth. She'd loved it from that virgin experience and she knew she'd never cease loving it. Least of all now, when she was at work upon a really champion specimen of the dick species.
"Oooh, mama, I think I see what you mean about being spoiled," Maceo called from above her.
She braced her knees on the carpeting and angled in from a different direction, giving his peter a whole new trip as it rode in and out her mouth. Her teeth scraped at the sides of his rod-not enough to hurt, but with such a precise, knowing degree of stimulation that tremors passed up and down his dark body. Loma was holding him by the ass. She felt his buttocks clench, muscles rippling in the hard flesh, and she opened her mouth wider, certain that he was on the verge of ejaculating.
But his self-control was better than she could have hoped. Maceo grunted, a deep, aching grunt, as if he were in pain, and his buttocks relaxed noticeably. Still, his prick had spilled at least a spoonful of juice in that moment of weakness. The sticky juice, incredibly thick, clotted on Lorna's tongue and she almost choked trying to swallow it and his prick at the same time. Uncomfortable for a moment, yes, but a delicious hint of things to come, and she sucked his cock with a growing excitement.
His pants had fallen to his feet sometime after she first pulled out his cock, and now she felt his legs move as he stepped out of the dropped trousers. While she continued to nurse the shaft of Maceo's cock, he got his feet out of his shoes, too, and she settled her twat down upon one set of bare toes. He raised his biggest toe, pointing it at her pussy, and she wriggled about until he had it in her gash, the tip inserted between the clutching lips of her cunt.
She rocked upon his toe, squeezing it with her cunt muscles, and she began to pant around his prick. Her heavy breathing blew alongside his meat and again she felt the clenching of his buttocks. Lorna closed her mouth in a tight ring, vacuuming Maceo, but once more his self-control conquered. Still another preliminary bubble of jism oozed from his piss-hole, as tasty as the one before it, and Lorna slurped his seed around the insides of her cheeks.
If this kept up,, she thought, he wouldn't have enough left to give her a good big blast at once.
She'd have drained him off a dribble at a time. And that wouldn't do! Well, she would make him come, but good and hard!
She started to hum, deep in her throat, a buzzing sound that vibrated along his prick, and he tightened his fingers on her head.
"Talk about a hum-job!" Maceo groaned, and he pulled back to give her a full ten inches of cock-meat in one stabbing thrust.
Loma twisted her lips and his cock jumped out of her mouth. She seized it in both hands, pressed its tip to her puckered lips, and she kissed his cock-head with a loud smack. His voice was a rumbling from deep in his belly, and she was positive she could hear his balls shooting off. She should have stuffed his prick into her mouth, but she wanted to see him ejaculate, to watch his white cum as it shot out of the ebony shaft of his cock. It was a visual turn-on and, her twat full of his big toe, she wanted her eyes to receive their fair share of arousal.
"Take it, bitch!" Maceo yelped, and his cock exploded in her hand, against her face. Loma was splattered by his cum, and she watched, giggling happily, as even more of his thick fuck-cream rolled down the stalk, across her clutching pink hands. His sperm was like gravy-even more so, when her tongue flitted out to scoop up a taste of the unadulterated product.
"That's right, baby," he crooned, "suck up my scum."
Scum? she thought. She'd never call it scum. Her mouth opened wide. She squeezed his dick, then gave it a sticky-handed shuck, and he sprayed a final burst of cum into her mouth. Her tongue tingled as the sperm clung to her taste buds, and she felt his cock throb within her fist, still hard in spite of the shattering orgasm she'd just teased and sucked from him, "Maybe I'll be spoiled, too," Lorna said, sitting back, her pussy still riding his toe. Excitement flickered again and again around her clit, but she wasn't precisely there yet. As she rocked and bounced, she used her tongue to wipe away the sparkling, richly flavored cum on his cock and upon her hands, and she looked up at him, her face sticky with his fuck-cream. Maceo's black face gleamed, his eyeballs incredibly white in the midst of his darkness, and he pulled her to her feet.
"Oh," she said in disappointment as his toe left her twat. She'd been on the verge of coming and her pussy now felt empty. Very, very empty. But not for long. Maceo slammed a hand between her legs and his thumb socked up into the wet, ready slice of her cunt. She rose on tiptoes, groaning with pleasure. His thumb was much more satisfactory than his toe. And she leaned towards him, feeling his cock still erect, still hot and throbbing with sexuality.
"Why don't you fuck me now, Maceo?" she suggested throatily, rubbing her cum-stickv face on his cheek.
"You took the words right out of my mouth," he smiled, flinging her bodily onto the bed. Lorna squealed in delight, rolling and twisting like a playful child. Her legs opened and closed, pink pussy smiling at him through the blonde fluff of beaver, and her hand went down to touch it.
"Hurry," she panted, even as he bounced onto her bed alongside.
She rolled upon him, clinging like a leech with her hands and her mouth. Maceo stuffed his tongue into her mouth, then raised her crotch from his body. Lorna reached between them, her hand seizing his prick and lifting it upright. She wiggled and squiggled round until his cock-tip was squarely wedged against her -cunt-mouth. With a sigh she plunged down upon him, swallowing his peter in her wet, swampy twat, and she felt his balls rock beneath her when her loins melted with his., Maceo cupped the cheeks of her ass and braced her as he began to plunge upward into her snatch. She squealed and wiggled atop him, her legs gripping his thighs from the outside, and her head snapped back in a wordless cry of passion. A come blazed in Lorna's belly and she savored it, knowing that more climaxes were on their way. The second rocked her, and she slammed her pussy down into still another as Maceo continued his upward pronging She worked her hips, pulling and jerking at his pecker, and her tits, too, were afire with lust and desire. When she wrote her memoirs, this experience would certainly receive a chapter all its own. The zipless fuck again, she thought.
His black flesh was slick with musky sweat, and she was soaking wet as well. He could barely hold the cheeks of her butt for the perspiration that oozed from her pores, and they had to be content with the closeness provided by the natural fuck-gyration of their bodies. But it was plenty, or so it seemed to an orgasmic Lorna Parker. The Negro's prick thrust uncaring through the ripple and contraction of her successive climaxes, intensifying them, extending them, and she felt a giddy weakness at the base of her skull.
"Oh, you black bastard, don't stop now!" she screamed, swallowing all ten inches of his prick.
She was full from labes to womb, and it felt as if he were somewhere inside her guts, fucking her there as well. She'd have appreciated a little more thickness; his cock was a shade too slender to really stretch her pussy-lips the way Ken's cock spread them. But Maceo was all right, she told herself amid her delirious convulsions atop him, and he seemed to be enjoying the pink tightness of her top-notch cunt as well. Soon, all too fucking soon, she felt him explode.
He lunged up, driving into her with his dick, and she sighed at the fullness of the cock buried inside her cunt. How, she wondered, did he even have any cum left to squirt? He'd shot enough in her face to drown a horse. But even if he was only blasting her uterus with dirty water, the shuddering and quivering of his unloading cock was enough to send Lorna into still another moaning orgasmic high. She rocked with it, tensing, whimpering, digging him with her legs and hands, and then she lay still, unable to move another twitch. Sufficient unto the day.
She watched him dress and leave, his cock finally shrunken. Offering him a monetary tip now would have spoiled the pleasure she'd known with him, and he seemed to agree, for he took no offense.
"Good-bye, Maceo," she purred, "and I shall probably see you again before I leave Santa Cat."
"Just call room service," he told her, "and ask for Black Velvet."
Loma laughed appreciatively. "Till next time," she promised.
As he went out the door, she lay back on the sex-mussed bed. Well, at least she'd have no trouble getting to sleep now. She'd been fucked to a frazzle.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"It looks like Harlem," Barbie confided to her sister-in-law as they strolled through the market place of Princess Royal. Black faces, brown faces, cream-colored faces-every shade of complexion imaginable. The town was old and picturesque, in a rather impoverished fashion, and Barbie stood looking a long time at baskets of bright fresh fruit, at live pigs offered for sale and do-it-yourself butchering, at fish still salty from the sea in which they'd been caught. "The people, I mean," she added. "The rest of it-wow! It's like something out of a story book. Or a pirate movie."
A blind singer was strumming a worn guitar and singing a catchy, rhythmic spiritual as his fingers picked the strings in an intricate pattern that never repeated itself precisely- Barbie's foot began to tap with the music. And it was good to lose herself in something, because then she didn't have to remember last night too sharply.
It had been so terrible she couldn't forget, no matter how she tried to concentrate on the blind singer and his guitar.
After Lorna's departure, she and Ken stayed a table for a glass of sweet red wine, and then they, too, went up to their suite to catch some rest. Rest? He was on her like a maniac almost as soon as the door closed behind them! Stripping the clothes from her trembling body, carrying her to the bed, then on it with her, as soon as he'd taken off his pants and shorts. He hadn't even bothered removing his shirt! Just down with his undershorts, allowing his already stiff cock to jump out like a jack-in-the-box and then-God!
"Please, I'm not ready," she implored, fending away his kisses, twisting her legs so he couldn't get his hands between them. "No, Ken, stop! Dear God, don't-"
Prayers didn't help, nor did tears. He stretched her out, an unwilling bride, and he wedged her legs apart with his knees, and then he fell forward, guiding his cock straight to the mouth of her pussy. Her cunt was dry. She was unready, she screamed as his cock plunged inside, and she slapped at his face, cussing him, begging him to ;top.
But Ken was like a stranger atop her. He'd never treated her this way before. Whenever she complained of discomfort or pain, he would always stop and try to soothe her dreads and fears But not this time. His cock lunged into her tight cunt, and she felt her hole-opening-not widely, but enough to give him a beachhead for deeper plunging
"Oh, no," she moaned, "what's wrong with you? You bastard! You animal! Get off me! Oh, Jesus, it hurts!" Her voice broke and her eyes filled with hot, big tears which, thankfully, blurred her sight of Ken's face, twisted and contorted with passion.
Passion? He was splitting her with his dick! She winced as he took another inch of penetration, and she knew that he was tearing her delicate cunt to shreds. If she hadn't been so dry, she'd have been certain that she was bleeding all over the sheets.
"Fuck me, Barbie," he groaned. "Please-for once, will you just fuck me?"
"I can't," she whimpered. "It hurts too much."
He thrust, still deeper, and she found that pain had many different aspects, some of which she was even now discovering for the very first time. She writhed beneath him, struggling to elude the stabs of his prong, but it was firmly inside her cunt and she couldn't escape no matter how she tried. Ken thrust furiously six or seven times, stabbing her to the very womb with each plunge, and he made a curious raspy-voiced sound-as if he were in fully as much pain as the young woman whom he fucked so cruelly, so thoughtlessly. She bucked this way, that way, away from him, towards him, and for the briefest moment the agony threatened to give, to become something quite different.
Barbie's eyes opened wide, her body unsure how to react. She thrust against her husband, all unconsciously, as though her pussy had suddenly grown to love what he was doing. But the feeling was swift in its coming, swifter in its passing. Ken thrust once more, stabbing more deeply than before, and Barbie's mouth opened in a scream of horror. And then her voice failed completely. Only a raw hacking sound issued from her overused throat as Ken rocked and plunged his way to a shuddering climax deep inside her ravaged pussy. He collapsed upon her, sighing, groaning, a dead heavy weight smothering Barbie. She pushed at him, sobbing, and he finally took the message. He pulled his dick from her gash and dismounted.
"I'm sorry," he said weakly, lying beside her, trying to caress away her tears. "You can't understand. I had to do that. It was-I wanted to-"
"I don't want to hear what you wanted to do!" Barbie shouted.
One hand clutching at her pussy, where his cum seeped through the raw, ravished lips, her other hand wiping the tears from her eyes, she hurried to the bathroom to cleanse herself. She didn't come out until he was asleep. And even then, she couldn't bear to share his bed. Gathering up some sheets and a pillow, Barbie went into the other room of their suite and made herself a resting place on the couch. It was comfortable enough, and she needed to be alone.
How could he have used her that way? she asked herself, crying her way to sleep. She was trying to learn, trying to make herself a good wife to him, but it couldn't happen overnight. Oh, she knew he'd fucked other women before she came along. Not too many, he had told her, not going into details. And apparently he was growing frustrated because she couldn't give him what those other women had. Perhaps she shouldn't blame him. But her cunt was so sore from the brutality of his screwing. And he hadn't even asked her. He'd just thrown her onto the bed and mounted her, fucking like a horny animal no matter what it cost Barbie in pain and humiliation.
Humiliation? Yes, because she couldn't give him what he needed, what he deserved from her.
"Oh, Ken," she whispered into the darkness, crying softly, "I'm trying! But please, darling-be patient with me!"
* * *
Lorna led the way down the bluff from where she'd parked the car. She was wearing a halter improvised from two multicolored scarves and a skirt which rode very low on her hips but compensated by swirling the sand as she walked. Her ass swiveled automatically as she strode and Barbie, watching from behind, wished that she had some of Lorna's feminine qualities. Next to her sister-in-law she felt inadequate. Sexually, Lorna was probably quite experienced, Barbie decided. The woman had an assured calmness that was very nearly smug, and her blue eyes were frank and inquisitive. How could Lorna even endure being around someone like her? she wondered. Mousy, skinny, too nervous and inhibited to satisfy her own husband. Oh, what a mess she was! Barbie thought.
"Isn't it lovely here?" Lorna asked, setting down the picnic basket. She pointed with one arm down the expanse of white sand and blue lapping waters which met in this little cove, so secluded and unobtrusive she'd nearly missed it while driving.
"It isn't Jones Beach," Barbie acknowledged, awed by the emptiness around them. It was as if the earth, or at least this small piece of it, had only just been created and they placed upon it. A white bird swooped from the headland above, soaring above the blue Caribbean.
"Wait till the tourists find out about Santa Catarina," Lorna said glumly. "Fat women from Ohio, spilling out of bikinis; beer cans everywhere; children screaming; and probably a big billboard right up there-" she pointed to the green-topped headland ringing the cove- "a billboard that says 'Use Feminique for a Fresher Pussy' or 'Vote for Reagan' or 'When You're in Princess Royal, Stay at the Goveneur' or something equally obscene and uncalled-for. Oh, I suppose I'm too spoiled and possessive," she went on. "If I enjoy something, I hate the thought of someone else ever touching it. Isn't that silly, darling?"
She stretched, her tits lifting awesomely in the cuddle of the scarf-halter, and Barbie envied Lorna that profile, as she envied her everything else. What would it be like, she wondered, to be beautiful and desirable and obviously supercharged sexually? Not so much for herself as for Ken. Oh, why dream? Miracles were something from the Bible, not likely in real life. She had a slim but solid body and a heart full of love, and somehow she'd make herself a good male for Ken. It would take time, but it would happen eventually.
"Mmmm," said Lorna, "aren't you going to get into the sun? God, I haven't had any for three or four days. I may turn into a pumpkin if I wait another second."
"Where can I put on my suit?" Barbie asked, looking around.
"Why not right here?" Lorna challenged." The only ones looking are me and those sea gulls. If, of course, you want to bother with anything as archaic as a suit." She untied the halter's knots and the two scarves fluttered to the ground, leaving her full, pink-capped tits suddenly free and bare. Lorna raised her hands into the air, inclined her head backward, and did a slow turnaround. "I like to air my nipples at least once a day," she said lazily.
Barbie stared in envy. Lorna was even more attractive, more natural, too, half-naked, but there was a kind of sensual innocence about her bare breasts. They weren't on display, they were merely there, a fact of nature.
Lorna unbuttoned her skirt and let it drop away. Underneath she was wearing a pair of bikini pants, tied on each hipbone. They were cut very low, and Barbie could clearly sec the crack of her sister's-in-law ass. Wide-hipped, long-legged, tanned everywhere Barbie could see, Lorna was magnificent. There was no other word for Ken's sister.
Lorna turned, tits jiggling, eyebrows lifting. "Are you going to sit around getting sand all over your pantsuit?" she challenged. "I don't know about you, Barbie-doll, but I came out here to swim and sun." Turning away, she marched down to the water's edge, and the incoming waves broke around her shapely feet-Barbie stood up, unbuttoning her jacket-blouse. She removed it, then her slacks, and stood in her underwear, extracting her bikini from her beach-bag. Her eyes moved towards Lorna, who was nipple-deep in the water by now, and she wondered if there was any reason she couldn't imitate her sister-in-law and go in topless. Why not? she asked herself, growing bolder. There was no one to see-no one except Lorna and the seagulls. She'd never been even partially nude in the open before. Maybe it would be good for her, help her loosen up. Ken would appreciate any loosening she could do. Barbie took off her brassiere and stuffed it, along with her bikini top, into the beach bag. Quickly she removed her underpants and slipped into her bikini bottom.
The air touched her nipples and blew along the curves of her small round tits, and she understood what Lorna had meant. It was a very satisfying feeling, much nicer than being confined in a bikini bra. She cupped her tits from beneath, offering them to the wind and the sun, and then she went towards the water and towards Lorna.
"Is it cold?" she asked, nearing the little lapping waves.
"Perfect," Lorna called from farther out. "Come on in!"
The water was cold, chilling Barbie's toes where she stuck one foot out to meet the waves, but it was a delicious kind of chill and she advanced bravely. A seagull swooped and veered overhead.
By the time she'd joined Lorna, she was used to the water's coolness and it was very pleasant. Lorna's tits floated on the rippling waves, the pink nipples hard and pointing-pointing right at her! thought Barbie with a slight blush. Her own nips were stiff, too, little brown extensions standing out on the rounded contours of her tits, but she was several inches shorter than Lorna and her tits were demurely hidden beneath the water's blue surface.
"It feels nice," Barbie admitted, loving the way the undercurrent of the tide swished and played around her breasts' curves. "Maybe I've been too inhibited too long."
They sported in the water for a time, till Lorna noticed her flesh beginning to wrinkle, and she led the way to the shore once again. By that time Barbie felt completely natural, bare-breasted, and she threw back her shoulders in imitation of Lorna's confident stride.
Lorna sat on the blanket, munching barbecued chicken and sipping wine from a bottle cooled in the tide. "So tell me," she began, "how do you like being married to my brother? Is he balling you bow-legged?"
Barbie dropped her paper cup, staining the white sand with purple wine. "Huh?" she asked.
"You really haven't been talking much," Lorna added. "Are your jaws maybe a little sore, too? God, Barbie-doll, talk about, blushing brides! You're as red as the wine! Oh, come on, I've been around. That should be obvious. And next to doing it, I like to talk about doing it. If I'm embarrassing you, well, of course I'll stop," she lied, "but... "
She shrugged nonchalantly. "If you don't want o gossip, then I think I'll just take advantage of his incredible sunlight."
She untied the bows of her bikini pants, let the skimpy garment fall, and stood a moment, totally nude. Barbie's eyebrows lifted in admiration. Loma was gorgeous, from head to toe, the kind of girl who turned up in men's magazine centerfolds.
Loma lay face down upon the blanket, her ripe ass sticking up, its curve bisected by a well-defined crack. She glowed in the sunshine and she radiated a healthy sexuality which Barbie envied desperately.
"How about you?" Loma suggested. "Aren't you going to soak up the sun?"
Why not? Barbie thought. She stood up, looked to make sure there were no voyeurs in attendance, then removed her bikini bottoms in a quick motion. For a moment she stood uncertainly, wondering where to stretch out. The sand was very hot, and Loma was lying diagonally on the blanket.
"Oh, here," Loma said, shifting to make room. "Lie down beside me. You'll bum your ass on the sand."
Barbie settled down gingerly, a little self-conscious about being totally nude, totally defenseless, in the presence of Ken's sister. She wasn't sure whether to lie face up or face down.
"Before you get too comfortable," Loma put in, "you'd better get some suntan lotion on yourself. I'm already undercoated, but you're pretty white in places and this sun will scorch you before you know it. We're not at Coney Island, you know.
This is Sun Country." She moved towards her own beach bag and brought out a bottle of tanning oil. "On your tummy," she commanded, uncapping the bottle. "I'll smear you up good and proper."
It felt very good when Lorna applied the lotion to Barbie's back, oiling the area where her bra strap had covered the skin, but the young bride gave a sudden start when she felt her sister's-in-law fingers dance lightly across the white flesh of her ass.
"Oh!" she said in surprise.
"Cool down," Loma replied. "I'm not your husband."
She poured lotion onto each cheek of Barbie's butt and began to smooth it on, kneading the young skin with a casual ease. Smooth. Very smooth. And firm. Barbie had a muscular, tight ass, one that fit very nicely beneath Lorna's fingers. How long, she asked herself, had it been since the last time she had a girl? Forever, it seemed, though it couldn't have been more than a few weeks. Funny how you remembered the unmistakable texture of female skin, so much different from male flesh, really. She'd coated Barbie's butt completely and was still rubbing, scarcely aware of what she was doing.
Lorna shook her head. Was the sun making her giddy? "Turn over and I'll do your front."
Barbie moved slowly, one hand reaching for the bottle of lotion. "Maybe I'd better-"
"Nonsense," Lorna said. "It's your honeymoon and you're probably too tired to bother."
She filled the hollow of her hand with oil and let it ooze onto Barbie's white tits. They were attractive tits, she told herself, eyeing them as the viscous lotion rolled in slow patterns down the curving mounds.
She looked down at Barbie, for the first time really appreciating the young attractiveness of her brother's wife. The breasts small, round, firm, topped by little brown nipples that pointed outward saucily. The body slim, hence without a great deal of taper from tits to waist, or flare from waist to hips, but a trim, lithe body all the same-boyish, one night call it, but not when it lay naked before her eyes. Red hair on the pussy, with a natural part in the middle so that Barbie's pink gash was visible, the little lips protruding ever so slightly from the slit. Like Ken, Barbie was tanned primarily on the extremities. She'd apparently been wearing a very modest bikini, for there were large white patches at tits and hips.
Oh! Lorna thought, remembering that, she was supposed to be oiling her sister-in-law. Delicately, as if she were almost afraid of the act, she touched Barbie's tits and began to smooth on the lotion. Barbie squirmed at the contact and Lorna felt little muscular twitches flutter through the round, ripe tits. Her hands came down upon them, pressing, spreading the suntan oil around. I could make it with her, she thought. I really could make it with her. But she'd probably scream loud enough for Ken to hear her on his fishing boat. And she'd certainly tell him. which would insure the end of me and baby brother. Her hands lifted, only the fingers remaining in contact with Barbie's tits, and she painted on the oil in swirling circles whose centers were the upstanding brown nips.
"There," she said, a little tension in her voice. surprisingly enough. When was the last time anything had flustered Lorna Parker? God, she couldn't even remember! But she was more than a little nonplussed at the moment. Her hand shook slightly as she poured more oil into it and prepared to do Barbie's loins from the front. For a second she considered giving Barbie the oil, to do it herself, but the sight of that adorable pink pussy, smiling out from the wavy copper tendrils, was too much to ignore. She placed her hand on Barbie's groin, where the white bikini strip began, and she allowed the oil to flow onto the pale, touchable skin.
Be good. Lorna. she told herself reprovingly. She isn't a butch dancer or a switch-hitting hat-check girl. She's your brother's modest, demure little life-well, maybe not quite so demure and modest as she was yesterday, but she just has her clothes off. It doesn't mean that she's changed her entire outlook on life and morality. And if you have any plans for fucking Ken again, you'd better walk on eggs around his little lady.
She used both hands to smear on the oil, looking up from time to time to see how Barbie was taking it. The red-headed girl was lying calmly, her eyes closed against the sun's glare, but her tiny snub nose twitched now and then, and her lips were puckered tightly as if she were thinking very intently. Lorna returned to her work, smoothing-the protective lotion into Barbie's pale-skinned areas, and she was suddenly aware that at least a little of the oil should be applied to the region of Barbie's pussy. What if she got that delicate little cunt sunburned?
Be careful, she told herself again, coating the upper insides of Barbie's thighs. The redhead twitched at that, but it was merely an automatic reaction. Her legs undulated as Lorna anointed their most sensitive area, and she heard Barbie say, "That tickles!"
From anyone else she'd have considered it an invitation to get it on, but Lorna restrained herself. Barbie was certainly no lesbian-she was probably too naive even to be AC/DC-and Lorna's only chance to get close to Ken once more lay in cultivating her sister-in-law. Seducing the prime little piece was out of the question.
Wasn't it?
"Hold still," she commanded, speaking too loud. Am I nervous? Goddamned right I am! Trembling, she poured some oil onto Barbie's beaver, then reached in to spread lotion onto the white flesh beneath the wispy copper curls.
She massaged as objectively as she could, but the skin was warm from the sun, and incredibly soft to touch. Perhaps if she used both hands it would be done with faster. But it seemed as if the oil was gluing her to Barbie's flesh. She rubbed and kneaded, kneaded and rubbed, sliding her greasy fingers on the Render skin surrounding Barbie's twat, and she could not seem to pull her hands away though she knew she'd done her job and well.
Once her fingers brushed, accidentally, across the pouting lips of Barbie's puss, and she heard the red-headed girl give a muffled cry of surprise. Stop, damn it! Lorna told herself. Stop! But she couldn't.
"Oh, damn it all!" she said aloud, squeezing the cunt-mound with unrestrained passion. The slit was a warm presence upon her lotion-greasy palm and she ground her hand upon Barbie's flesh, not caring at all whether it was right or wrong or even unwise.
Barbie tried to sit up. Her eyes were open, blinking as the sun glared into them. Lorna could see wonder shining from those green irises and she was sure she'd never seen anything quite so lovely. At least not today.
"What-what-what are you-"
"Don't ask questions," Lorna begged. "Just lie back and enjoy it. I can't stop myself. I've tried-"
Oh, words seemed superfluous altogether! She lay down upon her tummy and kissed Barbie's navel, the fingers of one hand prying at the tight lips of her sister's-in-law twat.
CHAPTER NINE
"NO!" Barbie squealed as the tip of Lorna's little finger partially penetrated her cunt. "Don't do that! Ahhhh!"
She bucked and writhed in resistance, her legs flopping on the blanket, her fingers clawing at the sand. Lorna's mouth was glued to her tummy and her finger a ticklish little worm battling with the snug resistance of Barbie's cunt.
What's happening to me? Barbie thought frantically. What is that woman doing to me?
And then, aided by the sun tan lotion with which her hands were so liberally coated, Lorna succeeded in pushing her fingertip into the mouth of Barbie's pussy.
Barbie screamed piercingly, and her ass humped upward from the blanket, in the process jamming more of Lorna's finger into her twat. It wasn't a large finger but the way it wiggled! Like a snake! Barbie was suddenly bathed in hot sweat and her entire body was alive with sharp, vivid feelings-as if she were lying amid a million tiny pins, all of them pricking at her flesh. She twisted her hips, sucking that finger up her cunt, and she knew that she shouldn't want to be doing that, but somehow she could not stop herself.
"Oh, please," she groaned. "I don't know what you're doing to me, Lorna, but if you don't stop it-"
"I'll stop," Lorna panted, shaking her finger inside Barbie's twat. "I'll stop its you look at me right now and tell me that's what you want me to do."
Barbie didn't reply. She couldn't. Her eyes were huge and her orange-shaped tits rose and fell rapidly with her breathing, the nipples long and swollen.
"We'll straighten it out later," Lorna promised. She bent to her work, lips again touching Barbie's smooth firm stomach, and she moved quickly across the tingling flesh, until the coppery pussy hairs tickled her nostrils and invited soft lip-pulling which she was only too happy to give.
God, Barbie was tight! That precious little cunt gripped her finger like a screwed-down vise, clenching, rippling very softly as if she were in the midst of a baby climax, and Lorna jiggled herself amid that clutching tightness, sighing as she felt a soft dew of juices begin to bathe her finger daintily.
Her nose lolled through the beaver curls, onto the slit revealed by the parting of the hair, and she brushed the clitoral region insistently, tapping it with her nose, flicking the tip of her tongue back and forth. She used her free hand, too, puffing up the little protrusion of cuntal skin, squeezing as her nose and tongue worked in alternation, squeezing and caressing until the pea-sized bud of Barbie's trigger sprang up, all warm and limber and ripe for loving.
Barbie screamed again, the first time Lorna's tongue bathed her clit in saliva, but it was certainly not a scream of refusal. The wordless cry rang in Lorna's ears; she'd heard it before and it was the sweetest kind of music she knew. She worked the nubbin vigorously and her own pussy was oozing juice which had already made her beaver a sopping swamp. Bringing her legs together, she started massaging her twat by muscular twitches, and she licked clit until Barbie shivered like quaking earth beneath her tongue.
At the same time her finger kept working in Barbie's snatch-tunnel, snaking in and out with alternate short and long strokes. More and more wetness seeped from Barbie's hole, mingling with the suntan lotion and pussy-fluid already coating Lorna's hand, and she thrust ever more eagerly.
"Oh, my God," Barbie moaned again and again, her head tossing from side to side.
Loma cast her eyes to the side and noticed that Barbie's bare toes were wiggling uncontrollably-a sure sign of approaching orgasm. The moment of truth was drawing near.
Right now everything was fine. But how would Barbie feel afterwards?. Some women got vicious later-especially the ones who were unsure about the nature of their own sexuality. Damn, why couldn't people just be free and easy and take whatever came along? There was no need to feel guilty about anything that made you so happy as sex did. Take Barbie's husband, for example. Loma knew damned well that he dug stuffing it up her twat, as much as she dug being stuffed. So why did he have to pretend it disgusted him? Why did he force her to crawl around like a banana republic revolutionary seeking ways to get him into her bed once again?
Loma giggled softly around the clitoris her lips caressed. Maybe she'd dump Ken. And take his wife instead. That would be a sweet and fitting revenge. But even as the plan crossed her mind, she knew it was an impossibility. She couldn't want to injure him unless he still meant something to her, and he did. Brother or not, married or not, he was her favorite lay. She wanted him back, and somehow she would get him.
"Come, Barbie, come!" she whispered to the throbbing little clit as her lips touched it softly, gently, and she felt a flutter of response.
Carefully, she slipped the tip of her middle finger into Barbie's puss, alongside the one already stroking the red-headed girl's hole. The lips parted graciously, then swallowed her finger with a raw greedy hunger that surprised Loma. She wondered if Barbie was quite as innocent as she appeared.
Oh, hell, Ken had probably been fucking her blind for months before the wedding. Weird, though, that her cunt was so fucking tight! Snug as a virgin's, really. And pleasantly.
"Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhhhhh!" Barbie cried suddenly, followed by a high-ptiched, "OHHHHHHHHHH!!"
Lorna groaned to feel the massive convulsion which rumbled in the girl's cunt. Barbie thrust her ass upward, smacking Lorna in the face with her snatch, and the heady aroma of orgasmic juices filled Lorna's nostrils so deliciously she knew she must carry the act even further.
It was a hellish task to pull her fingers from Barbie's rapidly contracting cunt, but somehow she made it, replacing her fingers with her open mouth and snakelike tongue. Loma pried the tight, pink-mouthed twat open, as widely as she could manage, and she stared for a second at the juicy, dripping cunt.
"Precious indeed," she whispered, thrusting her tongue into the hot steamy pie she had baked for herself.
With lips and teeth and above all her tongue, Lorna made culminating love to Barbie's orgasm-quivering snatch. She drove her tongue up the slot as far as she dared, pulling back when the rippling inner muscles sought to tear out her tongue by the root and suck it up their honey-dripping tunnel. God, she thought, Barbie's climaxing like a child who's just discovered what her cunt is really for! It was an ecstatic, abandoned response, and she envied Ken terribly, having this ripe, juicy piece in his bed every night.
Oh. baby, she thought, working her legs on the lips of her own snatch, I really hope you know how to give as well as you take, because I need it, too!
Again she thrust with her tongue, thrilled by the wild ripple of Barbie's puss, and she moved one hand onto her own cunt-mound, finding the slit open and wet and definitely ready for business. Furiously, she whipped Barbie's puss, stirring the girl to a higher pitch of excitement, then drew back and waited for the moment's fever to subside so Barbie could get into the task of giving value for value.
Barbie shook and shuddered and moaned. Her hair was all disheveled, and though her eyelids were closed tightly, tears rolled now and then from beneath them.
"Hey," Lorna called, looking up. "Don't cry."
"Uhhhh-unhhhhhh!" Barbie whined, her tits heaving like a storm at sea.
Lorna put her hands on those breasts, feeling the heat of nipples against her palms, the firm, ripe muscle structure beneath the skin, and she squeezed gently, reassuringly.
"You now," Lorna purred as Barbie opened her eyes. She slid forward, parting her legs so Barbie could see the wet gash half-hidden in her dark-blonde pussy fur, and she reached to spread the cunt-lips a trifle. "Do me," Lorna went on, lifting Barbie's had and moving her cunt towards it. "Lick me. Suck my cunt. Kiss my clit. God, I think if you just breathe on it, I'll come all over your darling face."
"No, please," Barbie murmured, "I don't know how."
But it was too late. Lorna would not be denied the relief she had given the other woman, and she brushed her twat against Barbie's mumbling lips. It was just as she'd predicted. Barbie breathed warm and soft and Lorna's clit throbbed in the little current of air.
"Ohhh!" Loma moaned, moving forward, pressing her pussy firmly against Barbie's mouth, using her hands to hold the head steadily in place, and that close contact was all the stimulation she needed. Moaning, Lorna juiced and came.
She rocked against Barbie for a few moments, basking in the glory of climax, and then she eased back onto her heels. The sand was hot beneath her bare ass but she didn't care.
"Oh, yeah, baby," she sighed. Her head was back, eyes closed, and for a brief space all the world belonged to Loma. Until she heard the sound of uncontrolled weeping, and looked to see Barbie dissolved in tears.
"What the hell?" she asked, crawling towards her sister-in-law. She slipped an arm around Barbie's shoulders to draw the girl close but with a shudder Barbie jerked away and Loma went sprawling backwards, onto the sand, on her ass.
This time she noticed the heat instantly, and she sprang up with a cry. "Ouch, damn it!" she yelped, and then, "Well, what the hell is wrong, Barbie-doll?" Apparently this was one of the women who got vicious.
"Everything," Barbie sobbed. "Everything in the whole damned world is wrong! That's what's wrong!" She looked up, her eyes red-rimmed already.
Why, Lorna wondered sadly, did everyone in the universe have to be so goddamned hung up? What she the only person left who enjoyed a good time and didn't turn into a pumpkin afterwards?
She sat down on the blanket, careful not to touch sobbing Barbie. "I'm very sorry," she said.
"I had an orgasm, didn't I?" Barbie went on.
"Don't you know?"
Barbie shook her head. "Not really. I never had one before."
"You're kidding!"
Again Barbie shook her head. Lorna was the big-eyed one now.
"Not ever playing with yourself?"
Barbie blushed. "The only time I ever touched myself that way, you know, was when I was about eleven. And my mother caught me, and-oh, it was awful. For a long time I was afraid to try again, and by the time I wasn't afraid any more, the whole thing seemed so degrading-"
"What about Ken?"
"That's the awful part, Lorna. Do you want me to tell you? All of it?"
Lorna wanted, and Barbie told. Everything. Lorna could only shake her head as she listened.
"Jesus," she said finally. "You poor kid!"
"Yeah," Barbie agreed. "Married two days, and the only way I can make it is with another woman." She sighed dolefully, and it looked as if she were on the verge of tears once again.
Lorna crawled closer, and this time Barbie didn't wiggle away when Lorna embraced her. They looked at one another for a long moment, blue eyes gazing into green ones and vice versa, and then Lorna brought her face close to Barbie's. Her lips were half-open, the tip of her tongue showing between them. Barbie sighed and moved across the remaining couple of inches. As her mouth sank upon Lorna's, she closed her eyes and gave a little whimpering sound, as if her young heart had broken into pieces.
They moved into a tangle on the blanket, still kissing, and the Caribbean sun blazed down upon them. Lorna's hand snaked between Barbie's thighs and she found the pussy still damp from their recent lovemaking. Her middle finger punched eagerly at the slice and disappeared between wet clinging lips, stabbing deeply as Barbie moaned in pleasure.
Her head falling back, the red-haired girl sighed, "Oh, fuck me, Lorna! Make me come again!"
Loma eased her onto the blanket, lying full length, and she kept digging in the pussy with her finger. At the same time she rearranged herself, so that her cunt was directly above one of Barbie's out flung hands. With a smile she settled .own onto that hand, purring as the fingers lifted to meet her descent.
"Good," she panted, "really good! Are you sure you've never done this before?"
Barbie giggled, but the giggle turned almost immediately to an exultant groan as Loma worked two more fingers into the tightness of her pussy.
"Oh," she said, "it's not as thick as Ken's cock, but it feels so much better the way you do it!"
In pleased retaliation she took a handful of Lorna's twat and squeezed it, mining and ahhing as her fingers twined amid the thick dark-blonde hairs and tickled the flesh beneath. Lorna's cunt was quite damp already and a delicious musky scent wafted into Barbie's nostrils as she fondled the pussy from beneath.
"You smell nice," she complimented. "The way a woman should."
"Try this," Lorna panted, rocking on Barbie's exploring hand. She extracted her fingers from the redhead's pussy and shook them back and forth before Barbie's nose. Her sister-in-law giggled delightedly.
"So do I," she laughed merrily. "So do I!" She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring it all. "Oh, Lorna," she said them, "make love to me again, just like you did before! Please! I have so much lost time to make up for!"
"Right on," Lorna purred, lifting her pussy from Barbie's hand. She lay down on her belly, put her hand on Barbie's breast-bone, directly between the round, brown-tipped tits, and she moved her face in for a clinging kiss. As Barbie's lips melted beneath the heat of her own, Lorna began to rub vigorously at the tits and their stiff little nipples, feeling them grow warmer with her caresses. Her tongue played in and out of Barbie's mouth, licking circles around the pink lips, meeting the tip of Barbie's own tongue now and then for some back-and-forth dueling. Slowly, leisurely, Lorna allowed her lips to smack off Barbie's and attach themselves to the point of her sister's-in-law cute, dimpled chin. Her tongue flirted with the small dimple as her lips suckled the flesh; above her she could feel the flutter of Barbie's mouth as she chirped in appreciation.
Down the neck like a vampire, trying not to leave hickeys in her path, onto the breast-bone. Barbie's fingers were twining in Lorna's blonde mane as Lorna began kissing the swell of one brown-pointed tit. The nipple throbbed hotly on the flesh of her cheek, and she turned her mouth towards it, tongue already snaking out to lick, to touch.
Her mouth was awash with saliva-sex always seemed to cause that reaction. But Barbie's slender, stiff brown nipples were nothing if not mouth-watering sights, and she could scarcely endure the instant of waiting before that nearest nipple was in her mouth, being pulled, being sucked, being bathed in her warm frothy drool.
"OOOOHHHHH!!" Barbie squealed, loving every second of it, the end of her tit stuffed into Lorna's voracious mouth, throbbing, swelling with passion, muscles twitching in spasms of pleasure.
Lorna kissed and licked every inch of Barbie's naked, partly oiled body en route to the pussy once again, and she was astonished at the intensity of her sister's-in-law responses. By the time Lorna had begun spinning her tongue in Barbie's navel and stroking one lazy hand simultaneously across the sopping pussy-lips, Barbie was already whimpering and bucking and thrashing about, as though she were riding her way through one climax after another in machine-gun succession. Ken had found himself a very promising young lady, she thought; it was a pity he didn't know how promising she really could be.
As her mouth moved through the pussy hair, tongue seeking the pink gash separating the copper curls, Lorna wondered just what Ken's problem was. He was good in bed, as she knew damned well. And Barbie was hot, obviously But that pathetic little confession she'd just listened to? Maybe Ken was at fault. After all, she'd always been the seducer in their relationship. He was quick to comply every time, but she had initiated it. and him, so many years ago. She didn't know what kind of relationships he'd had in the years since; he rarely spoke of other women to her. Perhaps he just didn't know how to go about breaking in someone as inexperienced as Barbie had been, before he met her. Could that be it?
She tickled the pink slice with her tongue, flipping playfully around the clitoris that was already standing out like a glistening fleshy pea. What had Ken told her. the morning of his wedding? Something about Barbie being pure and sweet and innocent. Yes. That was it. Obviously he thought of her as a delicate flower, which in some respects she was. But it seemed to Lorna that her brother had mistaken a slight frigidity in his bride for blushing naivete. He'd probably been very soft and gentle, when perhaps he should have fucked the bejesus out of Barbie and let her see how crazy-wild it could be when you gave screwing everything you had.
The way, she thought, she was doing right now.
It was a pleasant reflection. Now half as pleasant as the thick sweet juices that coated her tongue when she wriggled it around and around in Barbie's split gash, but pleasant all the same. She lapped hungrily at her sister's-in-law pussy, filling her mouth again and again with the sweet, fresh taste of Barbie-cum, and her tongue probed into the mouth of the cunt itself. Barbie didn't react so thunderously this time Her cunt muscles stroked Lorna's tongue but they were more experienced now; they were aware that it was unnecessary to maul the playful, frisky intruder. But Barbie's nonstop series of groans and sighs and exhalations proved definitely that the experience was fully as rewarding for her as had been the exuberantly volcanic convulsion of her first orgasm. Lorna kept one set of fingers busy, twiddling and strumming Barbie's clit, while her other hand moved with studied casualness between the sweaty cheeks of Barbie's ass and her tongue dipped again and again into the honey box open for her tasting.
The child couldn't lie still, it seemed. Her cunt jerked and twisted beneath Lorna's ministering hands and face; the ripe cheeks of her butt clenched as the fingers stroked the sensitive cleavage between them and languidly diddled the tight puckered little asshole; and the entire genital region was suffused with a warm, aromatic heat that reminded Lorna's nose of a fragrant flower garden on a humid July day. She thrust her face into that swamp of sensuality and assaulted it was a passion she could no longer delay nor deny.
I've fucked both of them, she thought. My brother. His darling little bride. And they're both good. I love them. I really do God, to thick that she'd come down to Santa Catarina with some vague, half-formed ideas about breaking up their marriage for her own selfish ends! She'd never even considered the possibility that some better arrangement might be made.
Barbie climaxed again, with screams and moans and cries of joy, and her cunt rippled frantically beneath Lorna s flicking tongue. The clit in her fingers swelled and seemed to burst in a flood of hot juices which wet her fingers so thoroughly she could scarcely maintain her stranglehold on the love button. No need, anyway. The passes of her tongue in Barbie's cunt-hole could intensify the come and make it multiply in geometric progressions, but orgasm had definitely arrived and Loma need only ride with it. conducting Barbie through the wondrous world of her newly awakened sensuality.
CHAPTER TEN
"I love you," Barbie said earnestly. "In fact, I don't know how I've lived twenty-one years without knowing you, without knowing the joy that you know how to give."
She kissed her sister-in-law feverishly, further tousling Lorna's hair, running her hands up and down the sweaty back which was coated by now with a fine, gritty coat of sand grains.
"I'm not exactly dissatisfied with you, either," Lorna replied, laughing. "You were a little rough the first time you went down on me, but that second-wow! Talk about a fast study!"
The cupped the orange-sized mounds of Barbie's tits and felt the body heat seep into her palms as the nipples throbbed and the tits hardened to her loving touch. Truly a delicious little piece, she thought with complete approval. Ken had lucked out better than he deserved when he brought this tight young filly into the family circle.
Barbie leaned back, sighing, her hands fitting over Lorna's and further molding them to the ripe round curves of her boons.
"The only thing I regret," she said sorrowfully, "is Ken. What are we going to tell him? About us, I mean? Oooh, I don't know how I could have thought I loved him, Lorna! Not the way I love you, darling!"
"Listen, Barbie-doll, I know what you're going through. But before you hire a divorce lawyer, maybe there are a few things you should know. First-about Ken. He digs the hell out of you, just like I do, and if you didn't feel something toward him, well, you wouldn't have married him in the first place. Would you? I mean, I remember the wedding. How you glowed in your white gown, the way your eyes sparkled and glimmered when you tossed back your veil to be kissed. God, not only that-the way you looked at him last night, when we were all three at dinner. So think about that, darling, for a moment at least.
"Second-even if you think you're washed up with him-well, I'm not. You're entitled to know this, Barbie. Ken and I have been lovers, of sorts, for a great many years. It started when we were just kids. Things like that happen, even in the best-regulated families, which ours certainly wasn't. Daddy was busy with some sleazy bitch who was after his money. Ken was growing up, curious as hell, and a little shy about satisfying his curiosity. And me? Well, I was hot as a two-dollar pistol. I certainly haven't changed, if you didn't notice. Anyway, we found ourselves balling once, and it just went on and on. I've had a lot of guys, and he's still my favorite. Maybe it's because he's my brother and we're biologically and spiritually close. Maybe it's because he looks very much Ike me, and vice versa. Maybe it's because he's just the best stud I know. I was jealous as hell when he told me about you, and I hated the ground you walked on for an obscenely long time. That's all changed now, of course.
"Anyway, what I'm getting at is this, Barbie-doll. Why should any of us-you, me, Ken-worry about being exclusive, about cutting off anyone else? I go for you, and you go for me, and I go for Ken and he digs you. Doesn't it seem to you that we have the potential for an interesting three-way relationship? One that would prove rewarding for all three of us?"
"But after last night? After the way he hurt me? God, Lorna-I suppose you could call it rape, what he did to me!"
Lorna smiled benignly. "He has a few hang-ups, sure. One of them is that I still attract-the hell out of him. Through most of dinner I had my toes in his lap, under the table. And his cock got hard! God, how it got hard! For a little while I considered getting down and going down, right there in the dining room, in front of you, in front of God, in front of everybody. My suspicion is that he threw himself all over you because he loved you, because he wanted to prove that it was you he wanted, not me. It's elementary Freudianism, but it sounds logical enough to me. What do you think?"
"Don't know," Barbie declared sullenly. "What I do know is that when you put your hands on me. when you put your mouth on me, well, I go crazy. I want to do that a great many more times, Lorna. With you. If it means I've turned into a lesbian or whatever you call it, then that's the way it'll have to be."
'You're not even the same person you were last night," Lorna countered, trying to make her sister-in-law understand the obvious. "You were nervous and tense and, for all practical purposes, a virgin. But you've opened up now, just like an orchid come into bloom. So, before you go spilling your guts to Ken and saying things you might regret the rest of our life, why not let big sister try for just a little while? Okay, baby? Will you trust me? Do precisely what I tell you, try anything I ask you to try? If not for Ken, if not for yourself, then for me?"
"I don't know if I want to," Barbie replied. "Isn't it as perfect for you as it is for me? Why should we try to change anything? Can't we keep it just this way?"
"There's no perfect," Lorna said lightly. "There s only the current we have to drift along with. Everything changes, and sometimes it's for the better. Of course, even the worst will change again. Trust me, honey pie. Just trust me."
She stood, shaking the sand from her legs. "It's getting late," Lorna announced. "Put your clothes on, darling, and let's head back to Princess Royal. Time's a wasting!"
* * *
"Oh, it's you, darling!" Lorna said with a bright smile, opening the door of her room. She made a little sweeping curtsy, stooping low to give Ken a peek into the low-cut front of her lounging kimono. "Come in, won't you?"
He stood at the threshold, making a funny pursed furl of the lips. "I just stopped by to see if Barbie is ready to go to dinner."
"Oh, sorry," Lorna replied, indicating the emptiness of Room 312. "She doesn't seem to be here at the moment, does she? Why don't you come in and sit down and have a drink and tell me all about your fishing expedition."
"Where is she?"
"Oh, she'll be back ere long," Lorna assured him. She took his hand, pulling as her eyes invited, and slowly, very slowly, he took a step towards her. The second step was much easier for him, and Lorna pushed the door shut as he came into her hotel room. "See?" she went on. "That didn't hurt at all, did it?"
He said nothing in reply, beyond a muttered "Thanks" when she handed him a glass of whisky and soda.
"I have a delightful, really delightful day," Lorna said, parking her ass on the side of her bed. She sipped at her drink as the kimono lifted and separated. It was short to begin with, reaching only to mid-thigh, and she sat now in a slightly spraddled position which made it perfectly clear to her brother that the kimono was the only thing she had on. Barring a discreet but aromatic scent of perfume, of course.
"Your Barbie-doll is really a sweetheart. You know, darling, I don't resent her at all. Not since I've gotten to know her so much better. You're really very lucky, and she'll make a darling addition to the family."
"Come off it, Lorna!" he barked angrily. "And put your legs together, for Christ's sake! I can see almost to your lower intestine! Look-I don't know what you're trying to prove by playing up to Barbie, but-"
And he stopped speaking. Instead of closing her legs, Lorna was even then untying the waist sash of her kimono and allowing the garment to fall open with breathtaking effect. Her full pink-nippled tits popped into sight, the teats already standing up proud and stiff, and she ran one lazy hand down the front of her body, touching herself from neck to cunt while he sat with ever-reddening face.
"Mmmmmm," Lorna purred contentedly. "I've had a nice day in the sun, and an even nicer bath, and I'm still tingly everywhere that matters. Do you know what would make my day absolutely complete?"
"Lorna!"
"Three guesses, darling," she said, rising and moving towards him, her body completely bare as the kimono fell from her tanned shoulders. "Or do you need three guesses?"
She stopped directly before Ken, threw her arms around his head, and pulled his face against the soft cushions of her jugs, holding him there until he ceased to struggle.
"Hurry," she commanded, stepping back and dropping to her knees on the floor. "Barbie won't be gone forever. We'll have to knock off a quickie this time, but maybe later this evening we can get together for some real fucking. Will a quickie hold you?"
She put her hand into his lap. tracing the outline of his prick. "Why isn't your cock hard yet, darling? Am I moving too fast? Here-let me help-" and she unzipped him with deft fingers, reaching in, seizing his cock, dragging it through the undone fly before he could move or even speak in protest.
"Oh, it looks so cute when it's all soft and shriveled," she laughed, leaning in to apply her tongue to the reddish tip. It was as if power had suddenly been switched on in her brother's body. His cock began to erect massively, growing in jerks and shudders until one finger was no longer enough to control his hard, thick shaft and Lorna had to add another finger and thumb.
"I'm going to suck your cock first," she promised, "but only for a minute or two. We don't have a lot of time and I do want to have it in my cunt before we're finished."
"Goddamn you," he said weakly, sounding as if he'd just been whipped with a cat-o'-nine-tails. "Won't you ever let me go?"
"Not as long as I live," she said, taking the tip of his cock in her mouth and sucking hard.
His cock got even harder then, pushing its way deeper into Lorna's mouth, and she used her tongue to welcome its penetration, bathing his tool with her saliva and warming it in her sexual heat.
"Oh, God, step on it," he told her. "If Barbie sees this-"
Lorna uncocked him for a second, looking up with a sly grin. "Don't sweat it, darling. If she's not in the room, well, won't she have to knock on the door so I can let her in? We'll have plenty of warning, won't we. little brother? So vou just sit there like a good boy and let big sister take care of this nasty old hard-on for you. Ooooohh, it's a big fat one now, darling, all swelled up and throbbing! I can feel your heartbeat if I put my fingertip on this big hard vein. Oh, really sweet, Ken!"
She was teasing him and she knew it. He squirmed uncomfortably on the edge of the chair, one of his hands on the base of his cock. Lorna grew quiet for a moment as Ken rubbed his prick back and forth on her lips, then grasped her head with his other hand and angled her mouth towards the end of his tool. It shoved against her lips with a driving need, and she opened willingly, taking it inside once again. This time she opened as deeply as she was able and moved her head down upon his prick until the hair on his nuts tickled her nose and chin and the tip of his knob was riding in her warm wet throat, where, she liked to believe, it always had belonged and always would.
"Suck it, suck it, suck it," he panted tonelessly, pushing towards her as she proceeded to obey his request. "Suck my prick like you wanted to last night, when you kept playing with me under the table. Suck my cock, you lousy bitch!"
That last sentence seemed rather uncalled-for, but she sucked his cock all the same, for she was satisfying her own desires as much as his. Her head moved intricate patterns of his rod, pulling the prick-flesh to one side, then the other, sometimes taking it very deeply, sometimes swallowing only the tip and bathing it with her tongue while it shivered, trapped just behind the locked clamp of her front teeth. And occasionally she let his cock leave her mouth altogether while she used her tongue and the edges of her teeth on the vulnerable, sensitive exterior of his prong, moving up and down his shaft in quick, nibbling passages.
At length she raised her face from her brother's prick and looked up him, saliva glistening all around her mouth. "Fuck me now," she panted. "Drop your pants and let me ride your lap until I come all over your balls, little brother!"
He didn't say anything; he grabbed her by the wrists and jerked her to her feet, then let go of Lorna and hastened to get his pants down. They fell to his ankles, lying in a heap on the floor around his feet, and his cock bounced up, jutting at a rakish, horny angle which delighted Lorna and sent a little twitter of excitement rampaging through her pussy. She poised herself above him, straddling his thighs, while he straightened his cock and aimed it up at her waiting, wet gash. She came down slowly, purring with glee as his dick-head grazed the lips of her cunt and moistened itself even more in her lubrication.
"Stick it innnnnn!" she hollered, settling down so energetically that her pussy simply gobbled up the teasing shaft of his cock and it was suddenly in her cunt fully, heavily, thickly, so beautiful a stuffing that her teeth began to chatter. Or was it merely the excitement of being fucked once again by her favorite man in all the world? Wasn't it really because Ken still had no idea what this meant in its totality?
"Oh, fuck me, little brother, fuck me hard, fuck me deep, make me come!" she chanted as she bounced on his lap, taking every inch of his sizable cock up her snug clutching pussy and loving every inch of it, too.
She grabbed his shoulders while he gripped her waist and ass, and she leaned in close so that her tits swung in his face, the nipples hot enough to scorch flesh. One of those nips had a seeming affinity for Ken's lips. It touched him again and again, until he opened his mouth and sucked it in, pulling the erectile flesh until it felt incredibly long to the woman who owned it.
"Oh, I wish, I wish-I wish Barbie were here to see this, darling!" she groaned in a loud voice.
Ken didn't say anything. His mouth was full of a pink nipple and the peak of the tit which it surmounted, and she felt his drool flowing across the lower slope of her titty as he nursed it like a very horny baby.
Lorna's eyes were beginning to glaze with lust as the bathroom door opened and Barbie came tiptoeing into the room, naked as she'd been on the beach, scrubbed pink from a hearty shower. Barbie's face was alight with interest, her green eyes enlarged. She watched Lorna riding up and down on Ken, and she stepped closer, moving as quietly as her tingling toes would allow.
"My God," Lorna giggled. "Barbie really is here, and I think she sees what you're doing to me, little brother!"
Ken's head spun wildly as the meaning of her words sank in, and he saw his naked wife as she stood watching. He released Lorna's nipple and his face went scarlet and he stopped fucking. Lorna felt his cock begin to go soft within her cunt, and she knew that the sight of his wife had rendered him impotent. She hoped he could recover from the surprise, because she had some big plans for Ken and his prick. With a sigh she arose from his limp organ, turning to Barbie.
"What-what's happening?" Ken stammered. "You-Barbie-"
Barbie moved to Lorna, arms extended, and she embraced her sister-in-law passionately. Their naked bodies rubbed together as their lips ground upon one another's, and he saw his sweet, pure wife reach low to cup the cheeks of his sister's ass. Lorna squirmed delightedly in that hugging embrace, her mouth opening as if she meant to swallow Barbie's entire head, and he looked on in horror, his entire world collapsing in flames about him. What in the name of God .. . ?
The women broke their embrace and came towards him, holding hands. Barbie, he noticed, had gotten a thin coating of tan on the previously white areas of her tits and hips. Had she been sunning naked somewhere? And with Lorna? It seemed unimportant, even then, but the unanswered question left a nagging feeling of uncertainty in his mind. And thinking about that helped keep him from thinking about other things. Like, what was happening right now?
"You may be interested to know," Lorna began, "what Barbie and I discovered today, on our little outing. Show him, dear."
Obediently, Barbie sat down on the floor where Ken could see. She opened her legs, displaying her pussy hair and the lovely petal of a cunt inside, and then, with three fingers in a thick bunch, she started to corkscrew her way into that pussy, eyes rolling and lips fluttering as she made penetration and entry. Sweat showed on her forehead and her small tits jiggled delightfully as she got into finger-fucking herself.
"Uhhhhh!" she cried,, ass bouncing gently on the floor. "UHHhhhhhhh!"
"Barbie!?" Ken said, unbelieving.
Lorna patted his knee. "Isn't it amazing?" she said. "You see, darling-all this time you thought she was angelically innocent and pure, when really it was just a little case of frigidity! But I'm here to tell you, Ken, she isn't frigid any more. Show him, darling!"
Barbie rose, crawling to Ken on her hands and knees. She looked (and smelled, Lorna noticed) like a bitch in heat, her dainty little tail wagging as she crawled.
Lorna grabbed Ken's limp cock. "Suck it, darling. Just like I showed you."
Barbie took the. cock in her hand, holding it firmly and eyeing it with a curious stare. "I don't know," she said hesitantly. "I really don't think I can put it-in my mouth."
"Of course you can!" Lorna chirped. "Let me show you."
She leaned in, retrieving the cock from Barbie's trembling fingers, and she kissed its tip with a loving smack. Ken's prick was still set and very aromatic from the space of time spent fucking in her snatch. She'd recognize that savory taste anywhere.
"Now into the mouth, just so-" and she stuffed it in, sucking furiously until the prick began to erect once more. It was a swift, thrilling erection, and it pushed her face back as the cock began to expand faster than she could swallow it down. Well, she thought, there was no need doing a whole production number. Not when Barbie-doll was hovering on the brink of her first blow-job.
She sucked his cock up and down a few times, swallowing the bulk of his dick to show Barbie that it really could be done, and then she pulled back, freeing Ken's peter.
"It's all yours, honeybunch, so give it bloody hell," she said, turning the tip of the cock towards Barbie's hesitant mouth.
"Okay," Barbie said, giggling nervously.
She licked her lips with thoughtful swipes, then moved between Ken's spread legs. Her hands trapped the upstanding lance of his cock and she stared at it from only a few inches away, obviously summoning up her new-found zeal and courage. Her tongue came out again, farther this time, inching towards Ken's dick, and she touched it once, using only the tip of her tongue, pulling it away almost as soon as the contact had been made.
"Ooooh," she said, "it feels like a snake!"
"A milkshake. maybe," Lorna agreed. "Go ahead."
Once more Barbie used her tongue, this time swiping it a few strokes up and down, just below the scarlet bulge of Ken's cock-crown. She closed one eye and tilted her head, then reapplied her tongue, more knowingly now, laving the entire underside of her husband's prong, from knob to base.
"Oh, God, that felt good!" Ken told her, sincere as hell.
Barbie looked at Lorna, who nodded her approval, too, and then the red-headed girl smiled confidently, just before she pressed her pink lips against the tip of her husband's cock. She kissed him there, the same passionate kind of kiss Lorna had given him, and when her lips made that audible hot smacking sound, Barbie giggled.
"It tastes really nice," she confessed. "It tastes like him and it tastes like you, both at the same time. Wow!"
"Why don't you put his cock in your mouth, and find out how great it really can taste?" Lorna suggested, pushing the back of Barbie's head. The red-headed girl giggled again, opened her mouth in a big O of pleasure and allowed some of Ken's cock to penetrate that willing O.
She was still clumsy, of course, since it was only her first blow-job, but she betrayed the same enthusiasm she'd been displaying since Lorna initiated it all this afternoon, and in just a minute or two Ken was groaning and moaning, reaching with both hands for the head that was whipping such virginal but fantastic skull onto him.
He closed his eyes for a moment, astonished by the power of her inexperienced but star-quality mouth, and then he looked to Lorna.
"I don't know whether to love you or hate you," he said weakly.
"Love is always better than hate," Lorna purred huskily, lifting herself. She locked an arm around his neck and smashed her mouth upon his for a kiss that wasn't exactly part of the standard, garden-variety, brother/sister repertoire. He got a hand onto one of her tits, squeezed, felt the hard hot nipple between his fingers, and loved it so much that he twisted his other hand around to seize Lorna's other jug. She leaned into him, filling his hands with her boobs, and she kissed him a long, dreamy time, knowing that it had worked so much better than she could ever have dreamed. Instead of taking Ken away from Barbie, she'd regained Ken and conquered Barbie as well. She had both of them-she'd have them as long as she wanted them, and it would be forever.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmm!" Barbie trilled, sucking cock with audible slurps and smacks.
For her first blow-job, she was doing pretty damned well, Lorna noted proudly. She'd spent half an hour, using her finger as a smaller, demonstration model of the male organ, trying to teach Barbie how to suck without biting, how to give pleasure to a man with her sweet, lovely mouth, and it was wonderful to know that the lesson period had not been in vain. Ken enjoyed it, too, she could tell, from the hum on his face against hers while they kissed. She let a hand ride down to his lap, twining fingers through the pubic hairs at the base of his cock, reaching up now and then to stroke Barbie's forehead and tightly shut eyelids, and she could feel Ken squirming as his wife's virginal blowing really got to him, where it mattered.
She pulled her mouth from Ken's, with an effort, and stared down at the frenzied cock-sucking Barbie was dishing out. The girl's head moved like a piston, up, down, the cock slamming in, showing all wet and spit-frothy when
Barbie's head lifted and the rod slid from between her straining lips. Ken had to be on the verge of coming, she thought, and she wanted to see it when it happened. How would Barbie react the first time a cock vomited cum into her sweet, sucking mouth? She was a good hand at lapping up the juices of Lorna's climax, but how would she handle the thicker, tangier gushes of male sperm?
In a moment she had her answer. Ken's face contorted suddenly, the funny face men make when they're on the point of emptying their balls, and Lorna angled her face into her brother's lap, hoping that her presence would give Barbie plenty of moral support, now, when the red-headed girl needed it most.
Or did she, after all? Ken's cock exploded in her mouth, right on schedule, and she went all wide-eyed as the first gush of cum splattered the insides of her jaws. Her lips slackened their hold, some jism leaking from the corners of her mouth, but Barbie didn't seem at all displeased. Lorna shifted her glance to the girl's throat. She saw the gulping motions as Barbie swallowed Ken's cum with a hearty gusto. Far fucking out! she thought. Some women pretended that cum made them sick, but it was obvious that Barbie wouldn't go that cop-out route. She was getting it for the first time and she was digging the shit out of the experience. Well, more power to her, so long as she didn't monopolize all of Ken's cock and concentration!
At any rate, Lorna thought, I really believe that she's over her little infatuation with me. Oh. hopefully not too much over it. I'd hate for her to cut me off, the way Ken planned to do.
Barbie's mouth was gleaming and sticky with spilled cum when she finally let go of Ken's dick, and Lorna reached quickly to grab the prick and squeeze it to keep the erection in place. He was good for more than one shot, even at his worst, and if he wasn't incredibly turned on by the sensation of having two hot, sexy women mad about his body, well-well, Lorna thought, she'd kiss a dog's ass!
"Stay hard, little brother," she panted to the cock in her hands. "You still have to fuck your brand-new bride!"
Somehow they made it to the bed-all three of them. Barbie piled on first, landing on her belly, her slim ass quivering an invitation no one could have refused. Lorna grabbed the cheeks, parted them, and jammed her mouth onto the pussy that was revealed by the sensual spread. Her tongue shot into Barbie, found the cunt already ripe and wet, in prime condition for being screwed. Oh, God, she thought, wishing she had time to suck Barbie to a are-thee-well right now, before Ken made his grand entrance.
But she didn't. He was on his knees beside her, hand shucking the hard-on that even a blasting orgasm had not diminished, and Lorna knew that he was eager to fuck the wife who was finally ready to consummate their marriage in the good old-fashioned way. She stuck a finger into Barbie's cunt then, just to hear the slender redhead wail and whine, and then she pulled it out, grinning at her brother.
"She'd all yours, Ken darling. Fuck her delicious buns off! You've waited long enough!"
Ken fell upon her with a sigh, jamming his cock up Barbie's ready, willing twat.
"AHHHHHHHHHHH!!" the girl screamed in sheer, unrestrained passion as her pussy swallowed the cock it had denied for too long, and as he banged his crotch against her precious rump she knew, finally, completely, what being married to this man should have been all about from the very beginning. Her sensuality was awakened, and God grant it would never go to sleep again!
"Barbie, honey!" Ken called, thrusting again and again up her hot, tight snatch-tunnel. "Oh, fuck me, honey! You don't know how I've wanted this! You can't know!'.
"I do, I do!" she screamed in joy. "And I want it, too! Oh, make me come! Fuck me, Ken, darling! Fuck me the way you fuck Lorna! Screw my ass off!"
Watching at the side, Lorna couldn't stop her hand from going into her cunt. She took a big juicy handful of her wet, sopping pussy, and she squeezed until her pubic bone ached.
"God, give it to her!" she encouraged from the sidelines, finger-fucking herself with zeal. Her cuntal slice parted and two fingers rammed inside, fully as hard as Ken's cock was stabbing up Barbie's twat right now, and though it was a substitute indeed, it would have to satisfy her for a few minutes remaining before Ken was ready to fuck her as well.
She lay back, so that she could kiss the orgasmic face of her sister-in-law Barbie, and her finger grew madder, wilder, in her own pussy.
"Oh, hurry, hurry, hurry." she told the fucking couple beside her, sandwiching the words between sucking laps at Barbie's cum-flavored mouth. Sweet-ah, God, it was sweet! But it would be sweeter still! She'd turned this honeymoon into a threesome certainly enough, and so would the marriage of Ken and Barbie become a threesome. Already she considered herself married to both of them, her gorgeous brother and his darling, hot wife. Three. Like the Three Musketerrs. All for one and one for all. None of them would ever be wanting or frustrated again. That was what love was really all about. Really. Love.
She hugged them as they fucked, and it was easy to tell from their cries and shudders that both of them were near orgasm.
Barbie exploded first, screaming as she surrendered herself to the very first heterosexual come of her young life. Not the last, however. Oh, no, not the last! And then Ken collapsed upon her, helpless as his dick spurted fuck-cream up her rippling, sucking pussy. They throbbed and quivered together, sharing that beautiful feeling which had no equal in heaven or on earth, and Lorna panted in expectation.
"Me now, me now," she warbled, extending her hands to Ken.
He stared at her with blank eyes, as if it were taking him a long time to remember who she was and what she was for, but when the memory struck, he smiled broadly. His cock extracted itself from Barbie's puss, and it was still serviceably hard.
Lorna opened her legs and reached for him, chanting, "Screw me, Ken, screw me, Ken, screw me, Ken," as he moved between the compass of her legs.
He hovered above her, his wet cock touching the dark blonde of her pussy hair, and she grabbed his prick, steering his knob towards the hungry slice of her cunt. She rubbed his cock-head on her gash, then groaned and slammed towards him, his prick disappearing into her ready slit, and he was upon her, fucking, kissing, feeling, while Barbie eased up onto her side and watched, green eyes flashing excitedly.
* * *
"Fuck her, Ken!" Barbie sang. "Fuck her sweetly, fuck her prettily! Fuck her for you and me and Lorna, too!"
She giggled, reaching for Lorna's tits. Lorna cast an appreciative glance at her sister-in-law, and she knew that this story, at least, had worked its way to the happiest of endings. She had Ken, for all time, and she had Barbie, too, and who could ask for anything more?
"Fuck me," she said, adding her voice to Barbie's chant.
"Of course I'll fuck you," he replied, screwing furiously. "Always!"
"Always!" Lorna repeated. There was never a word so beautiful as that one. Always, Always. Always...
