"Ooh, that tickles," she giggled. "Are you supposed to do that?"
He mumbled incoherently. He pulled her body tight against his face, then slid his mouth over her chest and kissed her cheek, then her mouth. Alma tried to pull away at his first touch on her lips, but his powerful arms held her fast.
"Now, now, baby, you shouldn't do that. I'm your Daddy."
"Mommy said nobody is supposed to kiss me on the mouth."
"That's right," he groaned from deep in his throat. "But if Mommy or I do it, it's all right."
He slid his hand back onto her leg and inched upward until ...
CHAPTER 1
Alma was below deck when the ship began to move. The engines were so smooth and noiseless that they must have been running for some time before she became conscious of their muffled pulsing. She hurried up on deck, expecting to find the ship coursing out of Mobile harbor, with the familiar haze of smoke hanging over the buildings in the confusion that was the shore.
But from the deck of the cruise ship she could see only the blinking mechanical monster in the far distance, a city glimmering like a thousand fireflies. The sea appeared as a dirty gray. The engines of the ship hummed soothingly, monotonously, as it plowed through the waves, Miami-bound.
The sky was overcast. As the night darkened, not a star showed to relieve the pitch blackness of the sea. The ship moved in a blaze of brilliance through the surrounding gloom.
Alma Carswell was thirty-one. For her, life had been based mainly on sex. Unmarried, the oldest of the eight Carswells, she now found herself in a familiar role-looking out for the welfare of the others; she was the executrix of the family estate. She would meet with the others and the lawyer, Clement Borstein, for the reading of the will, the reading to take place in the huge old mansion where her parents had lived out their lives in the warmth and sunshine of Miami.
The days of her life were like successive pairs of handcuffs. Each day was composed of twenty-four links, separate and distinct links, which, in the simple jungle of Alma's thinking, held her prisoner in her self-created world of sex. Her dilemma stemmed mostly from the weakness of her emotions; she was inclined to give in to her sexual urges without question. Her body cried out for satisfaction and it made no difference who satisfied it.
Now it was midnight and she settled down to enjoy the trip to Miami. She had always wanted to take a cruise, and now she was actually doing it. It would have been a much nicer trip if she had a husband at her side-or any male-to make the trip more interesting. A few days without sex was like an eternity.
She stood at the rail, a lone figure, staring out at the tropical sea. Her face was ignited into incandescence by the hammered-silver sheen of the moonlit water below, the moon having suddenly nudged through the clouds to splash its soft glow onto the rolling waters. Inside somewhere, the sound of music sprayed from strategically placed speakers.
The smile on her face was driven away by her own depression. From wave-top to wave-top, the shape of the world she had chosen emerged-clearly but without definable meaning. Each morning of her life, the sun rose in the smog-free sky of the city where she lived, and the endless resurrection of each new day began. Like the waves that formed and then collapsed around the ship, the world seemed to be shrugging indifferently, noting each new lover and passing him into the past, nameless, faceless individuals to whom she gave her body.
But if she was depressed over having to travel alone, there was an underlying sensation of excitement pushing toward the surface, stretching toward some kind of symbolic night that lay ahead-many nights, for that matter. She could not define it, could not explain to herself why this feeling was present within her. The members of the family, with whom she had had so much physical pleasure, were now grown. The impetuous things they had done together in their youth were now buried in the past. Or were they?
Although Alma was the oldest and had had to look after the other members of the family, it did not make her bitter or less attractive. On the contrary, she accepted life for what it could offer her in the way of physical fulfillment. And she was a very attractive woman. She had worn her hair in many different styles over the years. Now it was in a neat, well-coiffed nest that gave her a look of distinction. Her lips were full, lightly made up. She wore clothes that accentuated her full hips and her ample breasts. Her walk was dignified and graceful, her manner regal. She was very much aware that she was a woman. She was aware of her body in another way, too-the narcissistic obsession that gripped her when she was alone, racked interludes in the mirror, the desperate strong cravings to be in a world within herself. And she felt somehow, then, that only the mirror could really judge her for whatever she must be judged.
When she was with a lover, she would stand often in the masked turbulence of her bedroom, watching the undulations of her body as she turned, twisted and moved toward her own image, then away from it, taunting and teasing the man who lay on the bed, stiff cock rising from his body, panting. It was a moment of triumph for her. She knew she would have him fuck her, but she had to play host to another of her desires first. At the same time, she felt an overwhelming sadness as intense as if she were the only person in the world who had ever felt this way about life, awed by the terrifying spectacle of the boiling world of sex that surrounded her.
Now, as she stood on the deck, she wondered about the other members of the family. She had remained in touch with them, mostly through letters, and now she realized she really didn't know what she would feel for them. Suddenly, their faces swam before her, vague shapes and strange voices to go with them.
Norm was thirty now. He was tall, had always been a husky, well-built lad. He was a salesman for a steel company and had all the bravado of the true salesman. Marriage for him was only a technicality. When he was fourteen, she had found out he shared the same emotions as she did.
She had come into the house to find him coming out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around him. Instead of dashing to his bedroom, he had come straight toward her.
"Hi, Sis," he said.
"Hi yourself. Get some clothes on."
"No. How about you getting yours off?"
"Norman, behave yourself," she scolded lightly.
"Come on, Alma, let's have some fun. Here, look at this." He reached down and pulled his half-hard cock from beneath the towel. "Wouldn't you like some of that?"
She should have been angry, but she wasn't. Instead, she was intrigued. Living with a family made up mostly of boys was like living in a forest of cocks without being able to satisfy herself. She did want some, had for as long as she could remember, but the opportunity had never presented itself.
"Who else is home?" she asked, looking alternately at his prick, then into his eyes.
"Justus."
She laughed an imitation laugh. "What've you been doing-playing with yourself?"
"Well, ah, I was thinking about you," he said, laughing. "I was thinking what a shame it was that you and I want the same thing and both of us are afraid to get it."
"Who says I want what you want?"
"Aw, come on, Sis, you know damn well you'd like to have a nice hard dick in you. I can tell the way you always look down at a guy's crotch. I know you want it."
Alma blushed. She put her hand over her mouth, her arm partially covering her breasts. She was wearing a sun suit with a very scanty halter that failed to hide more than half of her big titties. The bottom consisted of a pair of brief shorts. The feel of her own arm on her breasts caused her mild excitement and she knew at that moment she would agree with anything Norm wanted to do.
"Someone might come home," she said weakly.
"If you stand there long enough-yes," he said. He reached out and took her hand and drew her closer. "Touch it. Feel how nice and hard it's getting."
She did not resist. She let him put her hand on his smooth, youthful prick. It felt like velvet. She took hold of it and felt its length gingerly, fascinated that the skin moved so loosely on it. She swallowed hard, closed her eyes.
"Come on, let's go," he said. He took the towel away and held it as they walked. Not knowing what else to do, she held onto his cock.
"It ... it feels ... nice," she sighed.
"It'll feel a lot nicer when I put it in that hairy little pussy of yours."
In a dizzying whirl of her brain, she remembered the door being closed behind her. She saw his naked body, cock bouncing up and down, move to the windows and draw the blinds. Then he was back, one hand on his stiff prick, pointing it at her.
"Take your things off," he ordered hoarsely.
Only seconds went by before she lay naked on the bed. The hair on her cunt was a fluffy patch of silky fur, sharply contrasted against the whiteness of her skin. Her tits stood straight up, nipples rosy-red in anticipation.
He pushed her legs apart and got between them. She could feel the inner juices of her pussy drool slightly to slicken the soft inner membranes of her cunt as she awaited the hard prong he was getting ready to stick into her. She wanted to help, do something, so she reached down and felt for his cock. Somehow, it felt bigger to her now, perhaps due to the illusion of seeing her own twat as a tight, unyielding opening.
"D-do you know how to do it?" she asked.
"Sure."
He put his fingers into the tight lips and spread them. He reached down with his other hand and took hold of his cock. With a quick forward movement, he nestled the head of it in the soft folds, then pushed forward.
Alma lived a moment of heaven as she felt the hot, hard shaft slide inside her body. His young body felt good against her skin as he began to move slightly. Her titties were mashed against his chest until he removed his hands from her crotch and raised himself.
"God, fucking is good," he hissed. "Oh, man!"
He lunged ahead, driving his stiff prick all the way to the hilt. She winced with the sudden expansion of her cunt, then gloried in the sensation that she had been able to take all of it. She felt his balls press against the lower portion of her cunt and wondered if she could get them inside her, too.
Her heart thudded wildly as he began the fuck-rhythm, sliding his hot cock into her, then out. She was slipperier now, and the in-and-out movement was not as harsh as it had been in the beginning. She began to move her ass in response to his thrusts, an instinctive movement that made him smile with pleasure.
"Golly, you sure know how to do it," he panted. "Have you fucked before?"
"Ummhmm," she murmured.
He moved his hands to her titties and fondled them for a time, then dropped his face onto them. He slid his moist lips over one nipple, sucked it briefly, then went to the other one. He put his tongue on the hardened knob and waggled it back and forth rapidly.
"Oooh ... what that ... does ... to me!" she gasped.
"Mmmmmmm."
Norm pushed his cock in and out of her, sensing the tightness of her elastic cunt, thrilling at the sensation of having the hair of it tickle the slickened shaft. He drove into her, hard, then jerked back, bringing new thrills to her as the blunt-nosed pecker made contact with the aroused membranes. She grunted under him as he pounded madly against her.
He fucked his throbbing prick in and out of her slickened cunt. She raised her ass, tried to make her pussy grasp him. She reached up and put her arms tightly around his neck, holding his upper body still so she could work her agitated twat the way she wanted.
When she had fucked him this way for a time, he pushed his body forward, bringing his cock into a pressurized angle against her clitoris.
Alma moaned and writhed delightedly, "Ooh, Norm ... you angel ... oh, you make me feel so good when you fuck me!"
"You're ... you're so hot inside," he gasped as he fucked her even faster.
"Suck a nice cock ... baby, baby, baby ... oh, baby, it's so hard!" Alma breathed, glorying in the use of the sensuous words. "Fuck me good, Norm-baby. Push it into my slippery cunt. Cunt, cunt ... cunt!"
Norm's hands were pawing on her tits more than they were caressing as the passion rose in him. He gripped the large mounds, ground them in hands, then dropped his face between and began to lap in the warm gully. He was snorting, sucking in air in gulps.
As Norm did his fuck-movements between her legs, his, driving prick seemed to be driving at her from different angles, as though he had a half-dozen cocks growing from him. He plunged, lunged, grunted, snorted-like an animal gone wild.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck ... FUCK!" he growled.
"Yes, baby ... YES!"
It was the lighting of the fuse for both of them. The hot come spurted from the head of his cock and spattered her interior. Her cunt responded with a series of giant twitchings that made her entire body quiver.
They were like two sticks of dynamite held together and exploding at the same time, filling them with glowing warmth after the initial shock. Alma's quivering cunt milked Norm's spewing cock like a rippling machine, drawing his balls tight against her. The hot juice crowded against her uterus, edged around the thickness of his cock, and oozed out, dribbling onto his tight ball sac. Her ass was high, her legs thrashing on the sheets like driving pistons.
"Oh, God-ddd!" she moaned.
"Ohhhhhhhhh ... "
After what seemed like a very long time, he pulled his wet, half-limp prick from her.
He looked down at the reddish hole, still gaping open and wet from his come. His cock jerked spasmodically. The red head now had a purplish ring around the glans, swollen and wet.
"See, I told you it was going to be good," he said softly.
"Oh, golly, Norm, it was. It really was."
"We can do it again if you want."
"Not today," she said. She put her hand on her wet box and pressed her fingers against it, a more or less wistful gesture in anticipation of how it would be the next time. "I think we'd better get out of here before someone comes home."
"Tomorrow?"
"We'll see." She looked at his drooping cock and smiled. "Did I do that?" She nodded toward his cock.
"You sure did," he smiled. "But it was good."
"Ooh, it sure was."
The ship would make several stops before reaching Miami. Tampa and Key West were on the list, then on to Port Everglades, where the Miami passengers would disembark.
Two days on the tropic sea and Alma was still enthralled by her thoughts when the ship eased through the darkness toward its berth. The lights of Miami were splattered on the surface of the water like wet confetti on church steps. The humid air bore the sweet scent of a thousand tropical plants. A slight tremor ran through Alma's body as she inhaled the heady aroma that brought back memories of the many nights she had spent in this magic city. She saw the glitter of Miami Beach and thought of the many hotel rooms she had occupied there. She followed the long row of hotels with her eyes, musing, remembering. A thousand bedrooms and a thousand men, all different, yet all the same. A forest of cocks foreshadowed whatever else she saw, for this was where it had all started.
CHAPTER 2
In a sudden rush, everything came back into Alma's brain, long-forgotten recollections unfurled in alternately pleasant and unpleasant pennants, flapping with a vengeance only to drop away to a softly fluttering flag of delightful fascination. And the one thing that stood out in her mind as the ultimate in fascination was her father's cock.
There had been a warmth toward that strange, red-faced man, and sudden flashes of tenderness sparked in her brain. And there was agony, too.
When she was about eight years old, her father was often without work. If he did work, it was during odd hours of the day, which meant he was home when most men were out working. Alma, being the oldest, was called on to wait on his every wish, preparing his food, bringing him the newspaper, running his bath, or being the servant for the friends he brought to the house. Besides waiting on her father, it was also Alma's duty to take care of the other children while her mother worked.
Although he was not a drunkard, Alma's father enjoyed his beer. Sometimes he drank too much. It was during one of his drinking bouts that he made his first move toward Alma.
"Come on, baby, sit on my lap," he called to her one day.
Alma did not like the smell of beer on his breath, yet she loved her father enough to want to crawl on his lap and let him cuddle her. Nor did she care much for the feel of his whiskers when he put his face against hers. She did not interpret it as a sign of love when he bade her come to him, sit on his lap and pulled her young body to him. Something inside her childlike mind told her that his hands roving over her legs meant more than merely a father's love for his daughter; that strange lump in his pants bore a significant meaning.
"No, Daddy, I have some things to do. Don't touch me like that anymore."
"Be still, baby. Daddy won't hurt you."
She struggled feebly, but his strong arms held her in place. His eyes rolled blearily. His tongue swiped over his lower lip, wetting it.
Alma relaxed. She moved into the envelopment of his arms, her body held slightly rigid, yet tingling with the excitement that would come from her father's touch.
"See, baby, you don't have to be afraid of Daddy," he said. The kiss he placed on her cheek was wet and his breath held the odor of beer.
"I'm not afraid, Daddy," she said softly. "I thought you wanted me to finish the jobs you gave me first."
"My, your little legs are growing. Pretty soon you're going to be a grown-up lady. Won't that be nice? All the boys will look at you and see what a pretty girl you've become. You'll like that."
His hand slid under her dress as she knew it would. She instinctively pinched her legs together, then opened them slightly as his strong fingers gripped the tender flesh. But he did not attempt to touch her tiny pussy.
"Yes, you're going to be a pretty girl when you grow up," he went on.
"Don't you think I'm pretty now?"
"Oh, yes, but you're going to get even prettier, you can bet on that."
She looked down at her chest, then at her father. "Will I grow boobs?" she asked. She had heard her mother use the word. "Will I get real big in front like Mommy?"
"You sure will. That's when the boys will really notice you, baby."
She thought a moment, frowned. "Is that why boys like girls?"
He waggled his head and laughed a little. "It helps," he said.
"But there's nothing there now. Does it take long for them to grow?"
He reached over and took a drink from his beer, smacked his lips noisily, then turned back to her. "Well, maybe we'd better have a look to see if they've started yet. Come on, let's get out of that dress and have a look at you."
Without hesitation, Alma pulled the thin cotton garment over her head, remaining on his lap as she did so. Now she wore only a pair of panties. She craned her neck and looked down at the two tiny nipples. She seemed disappointed.
"They aren't even growing," she said plaintively.
The beer and the lust had combined in her father's body to turn his brain into a dizzying swirl. He pressed his face against her chest, put his beer-wet lips on the tender skin. He searched for the nipple, found it, and began to suck on her skin.
"Ooh, that tickles," she giggled. "Are you supposed to do that?"
He mumbled incoherently. He pulled her body tight against his face, then slid his mouth over her chest and kissed her cheek, then her mouth. Alma tried to pull away at his first touch on her lips, but his powerful arms held her fast.
"Now, now, baby, you shouldn't do that. I'm your Daddy."
"Mommy said nobody is supposed to kiss me on the mouth."
"That's right," he groaned from deep in his throat. "But if Mommy or I do it, it's all right."
He slid his hand back onto her leg and inched upward until he almost touched the tiny crease of her pussy. Then he moved to the top of her panties, putting his fingers inside the elastic band.
"Why are you doing that?" she asked, looking down at his hand.
"We've got to check you down there, too. Your little thing is what makes you a woman. I've got to put my finger in it to see if you're all right." He raised her with one strong arm and slid her panties down onto her legs. "Let's give Daddy a little look at what you've got down there."
She put her hand quickly on his, tried to hold it, but he pushed her away and pawed the panties off her legs. He quickly put his hand back on her pussy.
"Why do you have to see me?"
"Because you're my little girl and I want to see how nice you look. I can look, can't I?"
"Is it bad?"
"Of course not. When you were a little baby I looked at you lots of times. We have to do that, you know, to see that you're growing properly. We have to do that with the boys, too, but with them we don't have to put our fingers inside."
"Inside me. In my tu-tu?"
"Just a little." He spread her legs and leered down at the tiny mound of pinched flesh, a mere crease that puffed away slightly from her body. He put his finger on the rise, then pressed down slightly. "That doesn't hurt, does it?"
She shook her head.
He opened the tiny lips and put the tip of his finger inside, wiggled it a little. "You see, later on you'll have a man-a husband. He'll do this to you all the time. You wouldn't want him to find out there's something wrong with you, would you? Of course not. That's all I want to do now. Later, when you're all grown up and married, your husband will put his thing inside you."
"What kind of thing?"
He thought a moment, his head swaying slightly. "Would you like to see what a man has?"
"I've seen Norman and Charles ... "
"But they're just, little now. When they grow up, like me, their little things will be big and strong." He eased her forward on his legs a little, then dug at his zipper and slid it down. He took her hand and placed it on the hard bulge. "Just feel it, feel how big and hard it is. That's what makes a woman feel good."
She pinched her small fingers over his hard cock, gingerly testing the hardness as he had told her. Instinctively, she drew away. "It's ... it's so big," she said, shuddering. Then, when the tremor had passed, she asked, "Does that go inside me?"
"Not now," he said. "But later, when you're grown up, it will slip right into your little tu-tu and you'll feel so good you'll want one in there all the time."
"Can I see it?"
He did not reply, but dug in his shorts and found his throbbing cock. Sucking his breath in through clenched teeth, he took it out. He gripped it tightly with one hand and waggled it. He watched as her eyes grew wide. He put it against her leg, the huge purple knob standing well above her thigh.
She looked at it curiously for some time. "It's not very ... pretty," she said. "I don't think I'd want it inside me." She turned away, closed her eyes.
"Touch it," he said. "Put your hand on it and feel how nice it feels."
She turned back and looked down at the stiff prick still clutched in his hand and held against her leg. She made her hand move toward it, inching ever closer in a movement she seemed unable to control, yet with a sureness that told him she was overwhelmingly curious over this serpent like object that had sprung so suddenly from between his legs. She dabbed her small fingers on the head, then pressed harder when she noticed the rubbery tip was much softer than the shaft she had felt through his pants earlier.
"It feels funny," she said.
"Squeeze it."
She pinched the head between two fingers and her thumb, compressing the spongy flesh until he winced and put his hand on hers.
"Not so hard, baby-just a soft little squeeze, like this." He squeezed his fingers onto her leg gently. When she performed the small ritual properly, he sighed. "Oh, baby, that feels good." He slid down in the chair and opened his legs. "There's more-if you want to see," he said. "Just reach down inside and see what you find."
Dutifully, she ran her hand down the shaft of his cock and dipped into his crotch. The head of his cock lay at her elbow. There was virtually no difference between the size of his prick and her arm. She ran her fingers onto his balls and began to clutch at the loose skin.
"Ooh, that feels good," he wheezed.
He was panting heavily now. He had committed himself and his passion had already begun to overrule his conscience. He ran his hand between her legs and began to caress the soft flesh over her pussy.
She dipped deep between his legs. She felt the wiry hairs of his ball sac on her fingers. When she could reach no farther, she returned to the base of his cock and clutched it in her tiny fist. She studied the swollen head.
"You can kiss it now," he said. He put his hand behind her head and tried to draw her to him.
She resisted. "I-I wouldn't want to kiss it. It doesn't look very nice."
"Oh, but you have to. You have to put it in your mouth and suck on it."
"Suck on it? Why do I have to do that?"
"To make me feel good. Would you do it now, just to make Daddy feel good?"
She shook her head slowly, still looking down at his stiff prick. "I guess so," she said resignedly.
"After you do that, I'll put it between your legs. Maybe I'll even let you see how it feels inside you. You're too small yet, but after we do it a few times you'll get bigger and then the whole thing will go inside you. You'll like that." He was drawing her slowly closer to him as he talked. Now her face was almost touching his cock. "Suck it a little first, then we'll see how it feels between your legs."
He sat back and Alma stared at the reddened cockhead for a time. Then she opened her mouth and bowed her head toward the towering, thick column of hard meat. She put the head in her mouth cautiously, looking up at him with wide eyes to see if she was doing it properly. She wanted to make him feel good. She wanted to do whatever made him happy. But she also found within herself a wanton thrill of toying with his sex organ and the thought of having such a big tool inside her sent strange new sensations through her.
Her lips crawled onto the thick cock, but she did not know enough about sucking a cock to use her tongue. She merely held it in her mouth and looked up at him.
"Lick it," he said curtly.
She worked her tongue across the rubbery knob, then searched around the glans. She felt the pressure on the back of her head, felt his hips begin to move on the overstuffed chair. She tried to suck harder, but her inexperience only made her teeth scrape down onto the tender skin of her father's big dick.
But her father seemed oblivious to the slight pain. For him, the stimulation was intense, overpowering, and he now began to drive up to her mouth, fucking the tightened ring of her lips, slipping noisily in the saliva that had collected in her mouth. He cupped her small head in both hands.
For Alma, this was an entirely new thrill. Where she had looked on sucking his cock as somewhat repulsive at first, she now discovered the sensation was enlivening her entire body. Having her father's stiff cock in her mouth gave her a special satisfaction that was psychological as well as physical. It gave her a sense of being a part of him.
He held her head in his hands and made it bob up and down with the movements of his hips, gradually getting the rhythms to match.
The odor of his crotch was strong in Alma's nostrils as she bent her head to him and sucked his cock. There was the smell of dirty underwear, of an unwashed crotch, yet she did not, find this repugnant to any great degree. The intensity of the emotional thing she was doing far overshadowed anything else. The thrill of pleasing her father and discovering such pleasure in it for herself was almost too much for her young mind to comprehend. She licked furiously at the soft crown.
"Yes, yes, baby ... do it like that," he groaned as he felt the first tingle of the orgasm he had no intention of stopping. "I'm going to give you some ... gravy. It's nice-swallow it."
Then he bucked upward, his body stiffening. He moaned as though in agony, and Alma became frightened that she had done something wrong. She tried to stop.
"No, no, no," he groaned. "Do it! Keep on doing it!"
He drove upward and she felt the meaty prickhead expand. Then something very hot spilled into her mouth. It came in spurts, splattering into her mouth, shooting down her throat. His entire cock jerked and bucked in her mouth as the sperm spewed from him. But her small mouth could not hold all he shot into it and soon the grayish lava began to bubble from the corners of her mouth and drool down her chin. His hands loosened on her head and she moved away, the semen oozing from her mouth.
"Ohhh, babeee," he murmured. He rubbed his fingers briskly through her hair.
She was trying to draw in breath but the gooey semen in her throat blocked the way. She coughed- and a glob of the warm sperm and saliva burbled from her mouth. She gagged, swallowed noisily several times, then looked at him with tear-filled eyes.
"I-I couldn't swallow all of it," she apologized.
He rolled his head from side to side. He was still panting slightly. His eyes were closed. "That's all right, baby ... you did it real nice."
"You're not mad at me?"
"Oh, no, not at all. It felt real good."
She looked at his wet, slowly ebbing prick, then down at her pussy. She made a quick comparison between the size of his prick and the small opening of herself. "Are you going to put it in my tu-tu now?" she asked.
With a suddenness that left her sprawled on the floor, he stood up and put his cock inside his pants, then zipped up. He reached down to Alma and quickly pulled her to her feet.
"Take your pants and your dress and go to your room," he ordered brusquely. "Put them back on, quick!"
She looked at him with bewilderment on her face. "Did I do something wrong?" she asked innocently.
"No, but you'd better not tell anybody what we did," he said sharply. "Not even Mommy. What we did was something that only you and I will ever know about. Now go. Hurry." He pushed her toward the stairway that led upstairs to where her bedroom was.
"What did I do?" She looked like she wanted to cry.
"Nothing ... nothing at all, baby. But this is our little secret. You can't tell anybody about it because then we won't be able to do it anymore." He pressed the fingers of one hand into the flesh of her shoulder, shook his other index finger in her face. "If you tell, I'll give you the worst spanking you've ever had in your life. Do you understand?"
And when the last words had tumbled from his grim-set lips, Alma realized it was not she who had caused him to stand up so suddenly. The rattle at the front door told her that Mommy was home. He had seen her coming up the walk.
There were many other incidents between Alma and her father. He taught her everything there was to know about sex. He managed to get the head of his cock into her tiny pussy. He shot his loads into her. He became excited one time and rammed into her, breaking her hymen. She was thrilled with everything he did to her young body, yet in the far reaches of her mind she had an inkling there was something wrong about it. But it was fun-and that's all that really mattered to her.
Now, as she prepared to return to the home where it had all begun, she discovered a long-dormant excitement rising in her. Her father had died some years ago, but his memory clung in her mind like thrown plaster. He, more than anyone else, had aroused the passion in her body.
Yes, her father. Sure, she told herself, it was pretty weird ... what was the word? Perverse? Yes, that just about described the situation.
But Alma was not embarrassed by her memories of sexual adventuring with her own flesh and blood. If anything, it turned her on just thinking about it.
Yes, father was dead now, but his memory lingered on. A strong, tingling memory that made her pussy start to moisten with excitement.
Oh, where was he now that I can use him? she thought. I could really use his stiff prick and his wet tongue right now. She closed her eyes and saw it in the haze of distant memory: his big prick slamming into her cunt, deep, deep inside, moving back and forth at an alarming, amazing rate, on and on, with that stamina and strength that her father always exhibited.
He knew her secret spots ... as if by instinct. Yes, he knew just where to move to make her go wild, and make her come for hours on end.
An amazing man!
Why did he have to die? she asked herself. Why do the good ones always die?
There was so much for him to do, to help her with, if he was alive.
Perhaps they would be living together and making love every night.
Yes! Making glorious, passionate love every single night, Never sleeping, only fucking throughout the wee hours, on and on.
He had great stamina then, she remembered. He could fuck for hours at a time without tiring. That's my idea of a man.
If only her two brothers had inherited some of that erotic brilliance. Oh, they were all right, good for a quick tumble, but they were not to be confused with her father. He had been a genuine cocksman.
Ah well, she sighed. Plenty of fish in the sea, and most of them ready to give their eyeteeth to stick their pricks in Alma's pussy.
And she was ready to let them. Forget the eyeteeth. She would do it gratis.
CHAPTER 3
While the thoughts of her father drifted from Alma's mind, a brief interlude in her thinking swung to her mother, the dear woman whose patience and amateur psychology had transformed the man of the house into somewhat of a minor tycoon in his last years. With the money she had saved, Mrs. Carswell made several small investments. She bought a rundown appliance store, encouraged her husband to put his nose to the grindstone-and succeeded in turning him back in the right direction. Within two years, their one appliance store had grown to three. Some of her investments, although small, returned a slight profit. In the five years that he had applied himself, Tom Carswell had made a success of a life that had threatened for so many years to chew him up.
Although her father's advances to her never came out in the open, Alma always felt that her mother knew something about their many clandestine affairs. Nothing was ever said, Alma sensed it.
And now, as she stood in the large living room of her old home, she had a chance once again to return, through her memories, to the vision of her mother. She stood in front of the glass case which had been in the family as long as she could remember. It was full of glass objects, figurines of angels, dolls, small vases, imitation flowers, a fancy glass ashtray with the name of a long-dead hotel printed on it. In the reflection of the glass doors, Alma saw her own image, yet somehow felt she was looking at her mother-a ghost image that seemed to be forever attached to that old house.
"Bring back memories?" a male voice asked.
Alma had not seen or heard anyone come in. She turned with a sudden fright. "Why ... why, Norm. I didn't hear you come in. I thought I was the first one here."
"I've been here awhile," he smiled. "I was out in back when I heard the cab drive up. You come alone?"
She nodded. "Of course."
"Have you seen Mr. Borstein yet?"
"No. I'm supposed to call him to let him know I'm here." She looked beyond her oldest brother. "Have any of the others arrived yet?"
"Not yet. At least no one was here when I got here," he said. "Do you plan to stay here?"
She shrugged. "Why not? It's home. How about you?"
"I suppose a night in my old room would be sort of nice, I guess. I came directly here from the plane and I hadn't really thought about it." He paused to smile. "I sort of had my eye on a cute little stewardess and-"
"Norm, you haven't changed a bit, have you?" she laughed. "I'm sure Mary would appreciate it more if she knew you were here where I could keep an eye on you."
"Still the big sister, eh?" he laughed. "My wife is used to me being gone a lot and I'm sure she doesn't believe I spend all my nights in those motel rooms alone."
"Honestly!" She shook her head and began walking slowly through the old house. "The old place hasn't changed much, has it? Everything is just like I remember it."
"Yeah, same old dreary place. I don't know how we stood it. It reminds me of a museum."
"Oh, Norm, it isn't that bad."
They climbed the stairs, both noting a gouge in the banister where their father had hurled a beer glass long ago. The hallway seemed darker than they remembered it, the rooms smaller. Surprisingly, they found their old rooms almost as they had left them.
"Jesus, the nights we used to have in here," Norm said when they came to the room he and Charles had shared. "Remember that Genevieve Whitman who used to live next door? Chuck and I used to sit up here in the dark and watch her undress. God, was she built! I think she knew we were watching, too, because she always managed to parade around in front of the window once she stripped. What a set of knockers!" He lost himself in the reverie long enough to hold his hands out in front of him to indicate the size of the girl's bust. "Old Chuck, he was the first to get into her pants."
"And I suppose you got into her, too."
"Sure, She wanted to play, so we gave it to her whenever she wanted it. She was pretty sloppy, though."
"That's not nice."
He shrugged, then smiled when another recollection came to mind. "On the other side there was this Betty Hazen. You remember her, don't you?"
Alma nodded. "I recall that she was a pretty girl. Did you play with her, too?"
"Chuck and I figured we were doing the neighborhood a service," Norm laughed. "Hell, she even came to the house a couple of times. She'd go from my bed to Chuck's." He pointed at his bed, then at Chuck's. "Man, she was really hot."
"Good grief, are there any you missed?"
"Well, there was Virginia Clark across the street. She had a party one night. Dizzy Moss, Mary Hansmann and some of the other guys were there besides us. I think Ginny and Thelma Peterson took on every guy there that night." He went to the window and looked out across the street to where the square, frame house still stood. "If that old house could talk," he said wistfully. "What a ball we had there."
A bit of jealousy ran through Alma then. Norm had been her bed partner and, even in reflection, she did not want to share him. "I don't think it's right to talk about your escapades in this house. It makes me feel as though Mom might be listening."
"Ha! She wouldn't be hearing anything new. big sister," he said. "Hell, she caught us once, right here in this sack." He pointed to his old bed again. "Mom came in one time when I had this Hazen chick in bed with me. Both of us naked as jaybirds, and me, well, I was doing something I wasn't supposed to." He smiled and shook his head.
Alma's hand fluttered to her mouth. Through her fingers, she said, "Mom caught you? Oh, God, what did she say?"
He took a few moments to laugh and relive the moment he had told her about. "She just stood there for a while, watching me. Than she came over and got me by the hair and pulled my head up. Cripes, was I embarrassed."
"I can imagine."
"If I'd just been screwing her, maybe it wouldn't have been so embarrassing."
"What on earth were you doing?"
He smiled wryly, wrinkled his nose. "Going down on her."
"Oh, no!"
"Yeah," he said slowly. "It embarrassed the hell out of me. I used to think it was something terrible. Then I found out it was a perfectly normal thing to do. It doesn't bother me to talk about it now, but at the time ... "
"Norm! Honestly!"
"Why so shocked?" he asked seriously. "Don't tell me you've never had it done to you."
Alma's face flushed.
"And you like it, too, don't you?" he chided. "Okay, so what's wrong with liking it?"
"Maybe I've done everything you have," she said. "You don't know what kind of life I've lived since we lived here."
He reached out and pinched one of her titties. "Yeah-hh, and we used to have some pretty good times," he said. "Sometimes I miss having you around."
His tweak on her breast made her pull away from him with a quick jerk. She made a feeble slap toward his hand, but he had already pulled it away. "You shouldn't do that. After all, we're grown up now. Besides, you're married."
"You know, after that first time when I met you in the hall and we went to bed, Chuck and I thought we'd like to see what all of our sisters looked like. We drilled a little hole in the bathroom door so we could watch you take your baths. Come on, I'll show you."
"You saw me naked lots of times. Why did you have to peek?"
"Oh, it was fun watching you in the tub," he shrugged. "There's something about a woman soaping up her titties that sends me."
They went down the hall to the bathroom. The wooden door was open. Norm pulled it shut, then pointed to a tiny hole at eye level.
"The trick is to drill it at an angle," Norm said. "That way, no one will ever notice it." He put his eye to the hole and looked through to the bathroom. "We lined it up so we could look at the tub. That way, we got to see every one of you. We used to call it Knockerviile. Here, take a look."
Alma moved to the door and put her eye to the hole. She stepped back and looked at him. "Which of you were the snoops?"
"All of us. We all got a look at the best crop of tits in town," he laughed. "You don't know how many times I wanted to get the door unlocked and come in when one of you were in the tub. You'd rub soap all over your titties and squeeze around on them. God, you nearly drove me crazy! A couple of times I al- most popped my rocks right here in the hall."
She smiled up at him. "Had I known I was being watched I would have put on a better show."
"You did all right. I always got a bang out of the way you'd stand in front of the mirror and admire yourself. You were pretty sold on your own body."
"Do you blame me?"
"No," he said slowly. "I was sold on it myself." He put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed her to him. "How about if we tried one last time?"
"No. Uh-uh. Those days are over Norm. We were just kids then and a lot of things happened that shouldn't have."
"Would you stop me?"
"I don't want to discuss it."
"Sex, honey, that's what life is all about."
She looked at him carefully then, studying him as she thought of how nice his body had felt to her. Two long-past visions collided in her brain, the sudden impact making her body tremble with what she could only judge to be excitement. One vision came to her boldly, a hard, hot shaft of flesh that stood out from his body with its purplish head bobbing at the end. The other involved what he had just told her about the girl next door. Norm had never had his tongue in her pussy. Suddenly, there was a deep turmoil in her groin, a growing sensation that told her she wanted him one more time.
She had been so occupied with her thoughts that she did not notice herself being pressed against Norm's husky body, nor was she aware of the hard bulge being pushed against her belly. Then a feeling of pleasantness came over her and she found herself yielding to it.
"We shouldn't," she murmured.
"Just one more time," he said, pulling her closer. "I just have to have you one last time." He cupped one breast in his big hand, felt her shudder slightly. He found the nipple through the material and fingered it lightly with his index finger. "God, I always did like those things."
"Does it mean a lot to you to do this?"
"I'd like it."
"But we shouldn't," she said raggedly. "Some of the others might come."
"You worry too much," he said with the confidence of the born salesman. "You've got to let yourself go, turn on-and forget about everything else." He was panting now. His lips were touching her ear and the words were hot, breathless.
In the dizzying, strangely tilted world in which she once again found herself, Alma felt the weird sensation of wanting to go in two different directions at once. But she knew she had no resistance; she found it waning like a slowly retreating tide, moving away from her, until she seemed to be standing alone, naked and receptive.
"We'd better go to the bedroom," he said. He eased her toward his old room, then moved directly across the room to the bed. With a few quick movements of his fingers he unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off her shoulders. Then he turned her over and undid her brassiere snap. When he had removed these two garments, he took off her skirt, slip and panties.
She made no move to help him. She turned her body one way, then the other. Finally, she was completely naked. She lay on the bed and looked up at lost inhibitions. She was being her true self once again.
And while her mind crashed through one electric current after another, she hardly noticed that Norm had sunk lower on her chest and was now swabbing across her stomach with his warm, wet tongue. His tongue was a dabbing brush, washing across her smooth skin in marching and counter-marching patterns that aroused her to a new frenzy. Her hips responded by heaving her ass off the bed in a slow, writhing movement. The tip of his tongue in her navel made her lurch upward in an urgent thrust.
"Ooh, that tickles," she sighed.
"God, you taste so good."
If Norm had aroused Alma, he had done the same for himself. As he licked over her stomach and belly, his hips kept up an even rhythm, as though he were already fucking his sister. He was on his knees beside the bed, his body bent over her. His hands ran over her body, caressing the skin lovingly. He made no move to take off his clothes. He moved with deceptive simplicity, touching every sensuous spot on her body as though he had studied a diagram.
The fires in Alma's body were like liquid flames, velvet soft with desire, yet raging wildly. There was a powerful anvil ringing in her ears, clanging with rude crashes at first, then tingling lightly as a new sensation came to life. In between, there was another sound, and she realized it was her own voice.
"Yes, yes, yes ... do it ... do it to me. Oh, please!"
"You want me to kiss your pussy?"
lost inhibitions. She was being her true self once again.
And while her mind crashed through one electric current after another, she hardly noticed that Norm had sunk lower on her chest and was now swabbing across her stomach with his warm, wet tongue. His tongue was a dabbing brush, washing across her smooth skin in marching and counter-marching patterns that aroused her to a new frenzy. Her hips responded by heaving her ass off the bed in a slow, writhing movement. The tip of his tongue in her navel made her lurch upward in an urgent thrust.
"Ooh, that tickles," she sighed.
"God, you taste so good."
If Norm had aroused Alma, he had done the same for himself. As he licked over her stomach and belly, his hips kept up an even rhythm, as though he were - already fucking his sister. He was on his knees beside the bed, his body bent over her. His hands ran over her body, caressing the skin lovingly. He made no move to take off his clothes. He moved with deceptive simplicity, touching every sensuous spot on her body as though he had studied a diagram.
The fires in Alma's body were like liquid flames, velvet soft with desire, yet raging wildly. There was a powerful anvil ringing in her ears, clanging with rude crashes at first, then tingling lightly as a new sensation came to life. In between, there was another sound, and she realized it was her own voice.
"Yes, yes, yes ... do it ... do it to me. Oh, please!"
"You want me to kiss your pussy?"
"Ohh, yes-ss!"
"You want me to lick it?"
"Yes, yes ... do it!"
Norm's lips were on her belly. He raised his head and brushed his face across her pussy hair. He spread her legs slowly, but he avoided the area of her cunt altogether. Instead, he kissed the inside of her thigh, taking the flesh in his mouth, sucking on it, then moving lower. When he got to her knee, he raised her leg and licked the tender skin in the crook of her leg. When she squirmed, he moved to the other leg and did the same to it.
"I'm going to put my tongue in your cunt," he said, his voice hoarse and rasping. "Do you want that?"
"Oh, yes!" she cried. "For God's sake, don't torture me like this!"
He raised both legs in a right angle from her body , and put his head against the underside, then brushed back and forth so that his hair rubbed against her. He held her legs together with one arm. He dipped his head to her ass and brushed his hair against it. Then he dropped her legs and spread them.
With the sureness of an expert, he dipped his head between her legs. He blew his breath against the hair, silky and fine, and inhaled the delicate aroma of her crotch. Slowly, he nudged her legs apart and drew her closer to him. He put his fingers on her cunt and massaged the soft mound for a few moments, as though testing for firmness. Then, taking in a deep breath, he moved his mouth closer to the carefully concealed lips. He parted them slowly, like opening the petals of a precious flower-and kissed the wet inner pudding of her love box.
"Oooohhhh," she sighed.
He responded by sticking just the tip of his tongue into the opening. He wiggled it, heard her gasp, felt her hips jerk. He slid to the lower portion of the hole and dabbed his tongue into it. Then, drawing another breath, he pressed his face against her so that the silky hair of her pussy was mashed against his face. He drove his tongue deep into her.
"Ooohhh ... ohhhh ... ohh ... uhhhh," she sighed.
Her fingers formed into steel bands and coiled into his thick, curly hair. She tugged at him, drove her hips upward in the same movement. The fires of passion roared through her hot, eager body.
Norm had curled his tongue into a hollow tube and sent its entire length inside of her. Now he was wiggling the very tip, twitching like a live snake. Then, slowly, he slid back out, only to plunge back inside her. His body rocked against hers; his head bobbed up and down. He was beginning to slurp noisily as his passion carried him away. He pulled his tongue out and lashed it from side to side in the soft, wet membrane of his sister's cunt, then rose to the top of her pussy and flicked at her clitoris. The little knob was waiting eagerly. He tickled it, then took it in his lips and sucked it. With a flat tongue, he washed up and down in the slippery slit.
Alma's hips were trying to stay with his tempo. She rammed upward and buried his face in her wet pussy. She fell away to have him follow her downward and lap at the wet cavern with a new fury. Her dam was spilling but she couldn't stop. She clutched at his hair. She pulled his face into her. She rammed her hips up to him. She was a frenzy of passion.
She came. She came and she didn't stop. She kept right on coming and fucking her brother's face with such violent motions that he had to grip her tighter and tighter, holding her ass so he could stay with her. He started a new rhythm, slower this time.
Her body quivered. She felt as though electric wires had been hooked to her. She was a sexual dynamo. She didn't understand this completely new and different feeling that was raging through her body. She moved her ass up and down with renewed vigor.
"Oh, God, what's happening to me?" she panted. "I've never felt like this before!"
Norm took his face out of her crotch for a moment. He wiped his face with part of the bedspread. "Maybe you've never been done right before," he said.
"Oh, no ... never. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. Never."
"You just didn't have the right guy doing it to you,"
"You never did it to me that way before."
"I didn't think it was right at the time." He wiped his mouth again. "I did it to that Hazen girl, but I was an amateur at the time."
"You should have tried it with me,'' she pouted.
"Do you want some more?"
"If you want to."
Norm's mouth opened and engulfed almost her entire pussy. He took the folds of membrane between his lips and sucked on them. He drove his tongue into her; he tickled her with the tip. He raised her up and ran his tongue down the crack of her ass. He wet her asshole with spit and stuck his tongue into it. He swabbed with his tongue laid flat, lapping her all over until her midsection was covered with his saliva. Then he finalized their session by again pointing his tongue and driving it deep inside her.
She gasped, quivered, and dug her fingers into his hair.
He sensed that she was ready once again. He found the little trigger-knob and manipulated it until she came screaming down out of the heavens, clutching and groaning, her body wracked in a series of spasms that seemed to know no end.
In the dim haze of trying to remember what happened during the next few minutes, she realized the man-figure with the rapier tongue had risen from the floor and gone to the bathroom.
Her body was so aroused that she made no attempt to put her clothes on. She lay on the bed, waiting for Norm to return. She wanted him in another way now; even though she had had numerous orgasms. Now she wanted him to fuck her, fuck her the way he had done when he was younger. She - thought how nice his stiff, long prick would feel in her and she wondered if he would want her to suck it before he fucked her.
But when Norm came back, his mood had changed. His face looked grim, perhaps even embarrassed. He was still fully dressed. Without looking at her, he stooped and gathered up the clothing he had thrown there earlier. He tossed them atop her naked body.
"You'd better get dressed," he said gruffly.
She studied him for some moments, trying, through the misty balances of her mind, to find some reason for her brother's sudden change. Maybe he was putting her on, she thought. But his face was a grim mask, crudely sculpturesque, and his eyes darted about nervously, never settling on her.
"I thought you'd want to-"
"Fuck?" he cut in. "Didn't I satisfy you?"
"Of course you did," she said quickly. "But what about yourself?"
"I'm all right," he clipped. "Come on, get your clothes on."
"But-"
"Alma, I don't want to, is that clear? I'm satisfied. You said you were satisfied. What else is there?"
She mused over his words for some moments, once again puzzled over this sudden turn of events. "Are you ashamed about what you did?"
"Of course not. I did exactly what I wanted to do, and that's that. Come on, get your things on before someone finds us up here."
Misty clouds enveloped Alma's mind. It was not like Norm to do anything only halfway. Surely, it wasn't his conscience that was bothering him; it was too late for that now.
Slowly, she rose from the bed and separated her clothes into the order in which she would put them back on. She had enjoyed something from him and she wanted to satisfy him, too. She grasped for the solution, but the answer was like an anchor in turbulent waters. Her mind moved swiftly forward-the anchor buried only in shifting sands of doubt and confusion. In this room, the world was flaunting before her what could be its most deadly myth: love was beautiful, a compassionate thing that consummated itself in the joint sexual act between a man and a woman.
Well, to hell with it, she thought, if he didn't want to fuck, then he didn't want to fuck.
But he might want to before she had to leave ...
Slowly, very slowly, she started to dress herself. She shook her panties out and then spread the waistband. She raised one shapely leg and proceeded to step into the pink undergarment.
Out of the corner of her eye she noticed he was intently watching her.
Yes, he's still interested. Maybe I can still get him to finish up what he started. Yes, it bothers me to leave a man unsatisfied.
She pulled the panties up to the thigh of one leg and then stepped her other leg into the garment. She pulled the panties up to just below her cunt and her wide, round, pink buttocks.
She stood there and pirouetted before the man's eyes, letting him see her voluptuous private parts in all their splendor, but with the extra sexy fillip of the panties crouched below her crotch, as if she were about to sit on the toilet or something.
She gazed down at him and saw that his cock was starting to twitch to life again.
That was what she wanted to see! It wouldn't be long now, she thought.
She turned sideways towards him and languidly scratched her fanny, a slow, sensual scratching across the round, smooth cheeks.
"Ahhhh," she sighed, erotically.
"What are you doing?"
"Hm? What do you mean?"
She now turned her hand to the front and let her fingers amble through her lush pussy hair, scratching and untwining the curly threads.
She glanced down again and saw that his cock was now in the grip of a full erection. That's the ticket! she smiled to herself.
She came closer to him and with a laugh, plucked out one of her pubic hairs and flicked it at her brother. It landed on the head of his cock.
"You crazy bitch," he muttered. Then he broke into a loud laugh.
"Something troubling you, darling?" Alma asked. "You seem to have a problem."
"What do you mean?"
"Look at that."
"What?"
She extended a finger in the direction of his cock. The erection hadn't wilted an inch.
"Oh, that."
"Yes, that."
"Well, what about it?"
"Oh, nothing," she said. "I just thought, you know, I might be able to help in some way. I don't know how exactly, but still ... "
"Yeah, you could help."
"Oh? Well, tell me dear boy, tell me. I'll do anything at all."
"Anything?" he asked.
"Anything at all ... " She plucked some more hairs from her cunt and sprinkled them over his chest and crotch. She stuck her tongue out.
"How about a little suck job, then? You know, a little oral release."
"Oh, certainly. If that's what you want."
"That is what I want ... at the moment."
She leaned down and took his prick in hand. Her lips parted and her mouth closed down on his organ.
"Oh, shit ... "
"Now you just hold onto yourself, little brother, and sis is gonna show you what a blow job is all about. I know what I'm talking about."
"Yeah? You don't hear me complaining, do you? Suck away, baby."
"Thank you. Now that I have your permission I can suck with a clear conscience."
"Sarcastic bitch," he laughed.
She jerked on his cock few times, not that it needed any more encouragement. It was throbbing mightily, ready to explode.
"Suck it ... suck it!"
"Yes, master ... "
She opened her mouth again and licked her lips till they were dripping with saliva.
"Suck it!"
She stuck it into her mouth, licked it all around and then descended.
She moved right down to the base, squeezed her lips together and sucked hard.
Her brother squirmed and moaned. "Oh shit, yes, that's good ... yes, yes, make me come!"
Up and down she moved, faster and faster, while her fingers caressed his balls, twining in the hairs that grew there.
Up and down, faster, till she could feel the sperm flying up the shaft and exploding in her mouth.
"Ugggggg ... ohhhhhhhh!"
She sucked it all in and then she slowly lifted off, licking all the residue up and swallowing it with a mirthful gulp.
"Fantastic," her brother sighed.
"I enjoyed it, too," Alma said.
CHAPTER 4
In Florida there is no clearly defined change from spring to summer to fail. There are warm days that turn into warmer ones. Even the transition from fall to winter is almost unnoticeable. It is a whole series of limbo times, boundaryless, and the only difference comes in the types and numbers of people.
From her home, Alma had often walked to the beach in her loneliness. The beach was the window to the world. She would sit for hours and look out at the blue-green of the Atlantic Ocean, wondering into which niche she would eventually fit. Now, in the late afternoon of the day following her encounter with Norm, she once again sought out the solace of the warm beach.
In the park there were the familiar sights of mangled Americans, mangled because their lives had been spent and they came here merely to wait for death. Under the drooping palm trees, old men and leather-skinned women sat on the benches, and in the water others walked slowly or dipped their ancient asses into the water in creaking knee-bends, filling the necessary space of time required of that day to qualify them as being alive. They sat singly or in groups or walked along the shaded walks, always waiting, mask like faces of spent society, expecting little, contributing nothing.
Where the beach had always been a balm to Alma's depression in the past, today it only increased the feeling. Where was it for her, she wondered. Where was life?
It was not on this slow-death beach, that was for sure. She turned abruptly and took a cab back to the old home.
She had remained upstairs for some time after Norm had walked out. She had not seen him when she came down. Perhaps he had gone to a motel. Maybe some of the others would be there. Their company would be welcome.
When she walked through the front door, Norm was standing in the living room with a drink in his hand. He greeted her warmly. "Hey, Alma, guess who's here? Chuck. He's out back."
"Oh, I've got to see him," Alma said. She hurried to the kitchen and onto the small screened porch. She saw her brother, sitting on the rail fence.
"Well, well, look who's here," Alma called as she crossed the yard and held out her hand. "My, you're looking good."
"Hey, you're looking pretty darn good yourself," he smiled. He took her hand and held it in both of his. "If you weren't my sister, I'd ask you for a date."
"Oh, posh."
He sat there complacently in the lazy afternoon sun, shoulders hunched, hands now freed from Alma's to hold onto the railing, balancing himself-long, lanky legs locked loosely under the second rail as if on a corral fence. His light brown hair seemed to be held to his head by overly long sideburns. If he had even half a worry in life it was not evident in his smooth, youthful-looking face. He was twenty-six.
"How've you been, kid?" he asked gaily. "You going to see that I get a good cut of the estate?"
"That's not up to me, Charles," she said seriously.
"Oh, I was just kidding, Alma," he said. "I know there isn't much over a million to split."
"The will was made out several years ago. I'm sure everyone will get an equal share. I doubt if there's a whole lot left."
"I said I was kidding," he said, slightly annoyed. "If I don't get anything, it's ail right with me. I'm doing all right on my own. I don't need any handouts."
"I'm glad you're doing well. You always were a bug for plants and things. Being a florist just seems to fit you. By the way, have you talked to Norm?"
He smiled easily, his eyes twinkling. "Yeah, I saw him. We had a nice talk. He said he had some phone calls to make so I came out here."
"He hasn't, changed, has he? Still a chaser."
"Yeah, I guess he's still at it. That seems to be all he has in his head."
"And a whole lot of it is probably baloney, too."
"I don't know, Alma. He gets around."
She looked at him evenly, then smiled. "He told me about the holes in the? bathroom door. I think you boys were just awful to do something like that."
"Yeah, I suppose so," he grinned. "But we sure learned a lot about girls. You know, we had a vote one time about which one of you had the best set of boobs. You won." He glanced down at her chest admiringly. "I see you still have them." He reached out and patted one titty gently.
"You're beginning to sound and act like your brother," she said.
He grinned broader and leaned forward. "Yeah, but he always got more than I did. By the way, did he ever get in your pants?"
"Oh, silly."
"He talked about it quite often. I always wanted to, but never had the guts to try. What would you have done?"
She shrugged. "It never happened so I don't have an answer to that," she said. "But, you know, Charles, there was a great deal of love between us- the children, I mean. I think we all felt a need for one another. In fact, I feel it even now. I mean, in loving someone, doesn't one complete the need of the other?" And having said that, impulsively, not caring to what extent she would reveal those rampaging inner feelings, she went on: "I mean that to choose someone to be wanted by-loved by-may be one of the many, many shapes of ... love-if one really has a need for love." He was looking at her curiously as she spoke. She was always the serious one. She sighed deeply, wistfully.
"You're lonely, aren't you, Alma?" he asked.
She nodded. "I miss the family. I miss a lot of the fun we used to have." And then she was overcome by a strange longing-a violent, unfocused craving, as if her heart were screaming for something she could not immediately identify. Then she realized, as she looked into the boyish face of her brother, that what she had missed was the feel of another body. Her fingertips tingled when she thought how nice his body would feel.
She thought that suddenly, and she looked startled at her brother sitting on the fence in front of her, and he was staring back as if he had in a secret way shared in the disturbing reverie of that moment. Now she could correctly interpret the giddy feeling inside her, the tremors that had gone unidentified, lurking, like dancing ghosts, nebulous, half-formed.
"Come here," he said. He held out his arms and she went into the encirclement of them without hesitation. "I think most of us took you for granted. You were always there, our big sister, always taking care of us." He drew a breath and let it out slowly.
His body felt warm, comforting. She melted into it. She felt her breasts press into his chest and for just a brief moment wished he would hold them. Then she was suddenly swept up in a sexual urge for her brother, and the reason for it was nothing subtle or unexplainable-she could feel his cock getting hard against her body. It sent a thrill through her.
"I think we should go in the house," he said. He slid off the fence and she felt the hard knob move down her body as his feet touched the ground. "Maybe some of the others will be there."
They went into the house and walked slowly through the rooms where they had spent their childhood. When they passed the bathroom, Alma turned to him, put her index finger on his nose, and said, "That wasn't nice, peeking through that hole."
He smiled. "On the contrary, it was very nice." He looked down at her breasts. "They still look as good as they used to."
"You said that before."
"No padding?"
She shook her head. "The real thing."
Impulsively, he stuck out his hand and felt one of her titties. A tingle went through him when he felt the firm flesh. "You're right," he said. "And they feel as good as they look." He moved his hand to the other titty. "God, you used to get us excited!"
"You're over that now, I suppose."
He shook his head. "No way. I still think they're great. I always wanted to touch them. Somehow, I just never could get the nerve."
"Norm told me the same thing," she said. She did not move away from him, but pressed her chest against his hand even more.
"Which only goes to prove he has good taste." He squeezed harder, moved closer to her. Then he looked over her shoulder, toward the stairway. "By the way, I wonder where he is."
"Probably gone back to his motel. He was all heated up about some stewardess."
They walked slowly to the room Norm and Charles had shared in their youth. Alma looked at the bed, saw the slightly rumpled bed clothes. A slight thrill shot through her as the thought of Norm eating her pussy passed through her mind. She wished Charles would grab her and throw her onto the bed, but she knew he was too reserved for such brash action. At least, he always had been.
Having Norm go down on her had satisfied her in a way, but she still wanted the thrill of having a hard, stiff cock shoved into her. Norm had refused- and she hated him for it. It had been frustrating, even humiliating, and she badly needed something to restore her sense of worth. And it could also satisfy the longing in her body.
Charles took her by the arms and guided her toward the bed, drawing her close as they moved across the room.
"What are you doing?" she asked in a low voice.
"I'm going to put you on my bed," he said. "I never had the guts before, and now I'm going to do what I always wanted to do. I've thought about this so often ..."
Alma was surprised at his forwardness. Although he was the closest to Norm, Charles never as much as hinted at what apparently had been on his mind for a long time.
His mouth came very close to hers. She turned her face to one side a split second before his lips touched hers. He kissed her ear. He held his lips there, then opened his mouth slightly and dabbed his tongue into her ear.
"I want to feel your tits, Alma. I want to kiss them and suck on them."
"Charles ... you shouldn't ... "
He put his hand on the side of her face and turned her toward him. "I want to," he whispered hoarsely. He ground his firm lips against her moist, soft ones. She felt a bolt of lightning shoot through her. Her knees trembled. "I want to take your clothes off and kiss you all over."
She moved into his embrace, pressing her large breasts against his chest. She clutched him and returned his passionate kiss. A second lightning bolt shot through her as she felt his cock hardening against her belly.
His hands were busy at the back of her dress. He found the tab of her zipper and slid it down, the sound grating into the stillness of the room. Then he slid his hands down her back to cup the firm cheeks of her ass. The heat between her legs was like liquid fire.
He pulled on her ass cheeks, grinding her cunt against his hardening cock. His lips were coursing over hers, then across her cheek, onto her closed eyes. Suddenly Alma realized the risk; Norm could walk in on them at any moment. She put her hands against his chest and pushed him away with a gentle movement.
"We can't," she panted. "We shouldn't be doing this."
"There's no one here. Norm left for the motel while we were talking."
"The others might come, ... "
"Yes, they could, but there's no one here now. That's the important thing."
"We can't take the chance."
"If you keep holding back, there won't be any chances to take," he grumped. "You want to, don't you?"
"Oh, Charles ... "
Alma's brain whirled. Yes, she wanted him to fuck her. How could she resist that throbbing cock pressed against her belly?
Without saying anything, he reached down to the hem of her skirt and raised it over her hips. "Come on, take it off," he said. "Take everything off."
"Charles ... we shouldn't ... "
He gave her a slight shove. She toppled onto the bed. She felt his hands on her body, tugging at her dress. She raised her arms to allow him to pull her dress over her head. Then he pulled her slip off. She felt her legs being raised and his warm hands under her ass, fingers slipping under the elastic of her panties. With one deft stroke, he slid them down over her legs and off her ankles. Now her entire luscious length was exposed to him, from her titties down to her toes.
"You take the bra off," he said.
She sat up and fished behind her to undo the snap. When her large breasts were released they seemed to spring from the confining halter in a mild explosion of golden flesh. The cherry-red nipples were raised and hard in anticipation of the warm lips she knew would be on them in a moment.
But Charles had moved away from the bed. He stood a few feet away, looking down at her voluptuous body as he slipped out of his pants and shorts. When he stood up, his hard cock arched away from his body in a long, slender shaft of pink flesh. He wrapped his fingers around it and came toward her.
Alma, ecstatic at the sight of his stiff prick, writhed on the bed, moving one leg against the other. Her hands slid up her body until she cupped her full, luscious titties. She held onto them from the bottom, a silent offering of titty-meat.
Charles came to the bed and sat on the edge, still holding his rigid cock in his fist. He looked down at the cherry nipples. He could not resist. He dropped his face onto the silky-smooth mounds, and immediately began licking the shadowed valley between them. Then his tongue searched for one of the nipples.
"Oh, Charles ... Charles," she sighed when she dress. She raised her arms to allow him to pull her dress over her head. Then he pulled her slip off. She felt her legs being raised and his warm hands under her ass, fingers slipping under the elastic of her parities. With one deft stroke, he slid them down over her legs and off her ankles. Now her entire luscious length was exposed to him, from her titties down to her toes.
"You take the bra off," he said.
She sat up and fished behind her to undo the snap. When her large breasts were released they seemed to spring from the confining halter in a mild explosion of golden flesh. The cherry-red nipples were raised and hard in anticipation of the warm lips she knew would be on them in a moment.
But Charles had moved away from the bed. He stood a few feet away, looking down at her voluptuous body as he slipped out of his pants and shorts. When he stood up, his hard cock arched away from his body in a long, slender shaft of pink flesh. He wrapped his fingers around it and came toward her.
Alma, ecstatic at the sight of his stiff prick, writhed on the bed, moving one leg against the other. Her hands slid up her body until she cupped her full, luscious titties. She held onto them from the bottom, a silent offering of titty-meat.
Charles came to the bed and sat on the edge, still holding his rigid cock in his fist. He looked down at the cherry nipples. He could not resist. He dropped his face onto the silky-smooth mounds, and immediately began licking the shadowed valley between them. Then his tongue searched for one of the nipples.
"Oh, Charles ... Charles," she sighed when she apart. He hunched forward, laid his hot prick into the slick channel, then pressed her tits against it in a soft flesh-vise.
"I have to do this," he panted. "I've just got to fuck those beautiful tits."
The sensation of his hot cock on her chest and against her tits sent a thrill of delight through her. She put her hands on his and tugged them away gently. "Let me hold them," she whispered. She applied pressure to each tit as he began to move his cock back and forth between them. There was a slight squeaking sound as the slick shaft slid in the luscious ravine. His balls dragged on her chest.
Alma raised her head again. He anticipated the move, and drove farther upward than his previous stroke. The soft head of his cock punched against her chin. He raised up slightly and made his balls drag across her tits, his cock lashing against the side of her face as she turned to one side.
Now he began to fuck furiously with heaving upward lunges that drove his slickened shaft across her face, against her ear, across her eyelids. His balls slapping against her tits.
She tried to avoid the driving prick by turning her face to one side, but he put his hands on the sides of her head and held her so his cock smeared directly over her lips.
"Take it, Alma," he snorted. "Take it in your mouth."
He gripped her shoulders and moved her down on the bed. Then he straddled her chest. He raised his ass so his glistening cock pointed down at her mouth.
She had not planned on this. She smelled the nearness of his spit-covered cock, felt the heat from it. She did not want to suck his cock, not yet at least. Norm had denied her the feel of a big, hot cock in her aching pussy and now that she had come this far with Charles she wanted to get fucked above all else.
"No," she said.
"I want you to."
"No. I don't want to do it that way."
"You've done it before, haven't you?"
Silence.
He clutched her head in both hands and raised it slightly, twisting his hips to keep the head of his cock near her mouth. She looked at the wet rod. She saw the head of liquid in the slitted eye. She looked past it and saw the thick growth of curly black hair in his crotch.
Her cunt ached to have that long shaft in it. She knew if she sucked it, he would undoubtedly pop his nuts-as hot as he was. If she did suck it, could he come the second time?
But Charles was impatient. He couldn't wait for her to think about sucking his cock. He had to make her do it before she realized what was happening.
Holding her head with one hand, he took his cock in the other. He moved it downward until the slippery bulb touched her lips, lips that were pinched shut in a tight line.
"Open up," he ordered.
"Uh-uh." She tried to wiggle her head negatively, but his hand was like a vise.
He smeared the head across her lips, tilting himself slightly so that the droplet was transferred to her lips. It left a wet line.
Then Charles became rough. He put the heel of his hand on her chin and pushed downward. He forced his thumb between her lips. "Open your mouth," he said gruffly.
He pushed his cock against her partially opened lips as he increased the pressure on her jaw. Resignedly, Alma opened her mouth. He hunched upward so that he was directly over her face. He sunk his cock into her mouth.
"Ahhhh," he sighed.
Now that the satin-skinned cock was in her mouth, Alma knew there was no point in resisting further. She tasted the slight musky flavor with her tongue. She wriggled a hand free and took hold of the shaft, holding him back so he wouldn't drive his long, slender pole into her throat. She moved the skin sheath back, exposing the glans to her licking tongue. She coiled around it in a circular motion, sucking only lightly, holding him in place as she bobbed her head up and down on the rigid prong. Then, caught up in her own passion, she began to suck in earnest. She took her hand away and put both of them on his ass.
He was resting on his elbows and knees, a giant crab hunched over her, connected with his sister's body by the stiff, slippery cock in her mouth. He began the fucking motions slowly, then increased them to coincide with her sucking.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he breathed. "Suck it, honey."
"Ummmhmmm."
She slurped on his cock, licking, sucking, swallowing. Her breath came in rasping gasps through flared nostrils. Her face was red, sheened with perspiration, as his driving lower body shut off almost all air. She clutched his ass and pulled him to her, then tugged him away. Her fiery passion swirled her brain into alternating flashes of light and dark. She held the juicy, rubbery bulb between her lips and sucked madly, then clamped her teeth into it lightly. He groaned with pleasure.
Charles' body stiffened suddenly. She felt his cock quiver in her mouth. She had sucked cock before so she knew his dam was about to burst. She continued sucking in a smooth rhythm, knowing her mouth would soon be filled with hot, spurting come.
"Uhhhhh ... oooochhh," he grunted. "I'm ... m I'm ... "
She closed her eyes as she waited for the first spewing shot of thick, warm goo. It came-hot, driving.
"Umhm ... umhm," she mumbled as it shot into her mouth. Her fingers worked lightly on the cheeks of his ass.
He gritted his teeth and rolled his head on the sheet. He held his ass almost still as the semen drained from him. Then, when the last spurt had come, he eased his wet prick from her mouth, trailing a string of saliva and jism across her face.
Alma swallowed noisily, craning her neck to get the thick globs of come down her throat.
Charles rolled to one side and lay panting as his slickened cock began to sag. "Ohh ... my-yy," he sighed. "Oh, boy ... "
Alma knew she would have to wait awhile before he would want to fuck her. She reached over and put her fingers on his cock. "Will it come up soon?" she asked.
He only groaned.
"You can rest awhile," she said, sounding motherly. "I can wait."
He panted his hot breath onto the sheet a little while longer, then said, "We'd better get dressed. No telling who might come up here."
Somehow, Alma felt she had been through this scene before. She took a few moments to put her thoughts in order. "You ... you don't want to ... ?"
"Not now, I've had it," he said.
Fiery anger shot through her. She pushed her body into a seated position on the bed, turned her glaring eyes on him.
"Thanks," she said icily. "Thanks for nothing." She got up and got dressed while he did the same.
"Well ... what are you so angry at? Shit, just because a man doesn't feel like, you know, finishing up something on the spur of the moment ... "
Alma sighed deeply and gave him a sarcastic look, shaking her head from side to side.
"Don't make me laugh. Most men, if they had an opportunity like this would jump at it, keep their cock stiff for hours at a time."
"Yeah, yeah ... well, that ain't me-not right at this moment, baby."
"I can see that!"
"Hey, cut it out! Don't play such a ball-buster. I don't like it."
"You don't like it?"
"No."
"Well that's too fucking bad. You don't like it. Ha! I don't like men who stand me up. I'm not ready to quit this fuck session yet, but because you haven't got what it takes, I have to remain unfulfilled."
"Yeah? Well ... well, why didn't you say so? I didn't know it was like that."
"You didn't, hm?"
"No, no, of course not. I just figured you were bitching for no reason."
"Hardly."
He moved closer to her and looked nervously up and down at her half-dressed body. He inhaled and got a strong whiff of reeking sex. She was still quite horny, there was no question about it. He decided he really couldn't just leave her unsatisfied like that. He would have to do something more, just a little more.
"Well, listen, baby, I'm no chauvinist, you know. If you want something all you've got to do is ask me. I'm willing to continue."
"Yeah?"
"Sure, baby ... just say the word."
"Well," she smiled, "what the fuck is the word, and I'll say it."
"Heh heh heh ... "
He began to undress her, slowly slipping everything off, dragging her panties down over her hips, uncovering her hairy twat.
"That looks familiar," he said, smiling lustfully.
This isn't going to be so bad, he told himself. And she'll appreciate it.
He got her back down on the bed and spread her creamy thighs far apart.
"Well, pal, what is your next move?"
"How would you like me to stick my tongue inside that beautiful twat of yours, hm?"
"I won't call a cop, if that's what you mean."
"Good ... "
He wet his lips with his tongue and let the saliva build up at the end of it. When it was dripping wet, he started-to send it down towards her crotch.
His fingers brushed up her cunt hair, leaving the hole clearly open and available for his approach.
"Come on, come on," she commanded impatiently. "Suck, if you're going to suck."
"I am ... "
He lashed his tongue up across the entire length of it, then brought it back down again. He let both hands move down to the woman's pussy, spread open the tender pink lips, and stuck several fingers inside to work the moistening meat around and around in excited circles.
"Mmmmm! That's the way, darling!"
He licked and licked, caressing, salivating, pushing his tongue deep inside her.
Alma shivered excitedly as her brother stuck his tongue against the hairy lips, licking around in tiny, maddening, unending circles.
He pushed his face in deeper, pushing nose and mouth into the quivering slit of passion, all the way in, till her cunt was fitted tightly and fully over his face like an oxygen mask.
"Mmmmm, darling, that's wonderful ... don't stop now; you've got me in your power."
"I won't ... not now."
He was enjoying it as much as she was.
His tongue now really went to work, dabbing, stroking, pushing, pressing, rubbing, stroking, tickling, petting, faster and faster, deeper and deeper, slapping, spitting, digging inside that hot cunt.
"Ohhhhhh! Darling, you're wonderful ... mmm ... yes, yes! Forgive me, won't you, for underestimating you ... mmmm ... you know how to satisfy a woman ... oh yes!"
"Shlurp, shlurp," sounded his mouth as he liquidly invaded her lush loins.
"Do it! Do it, don't stop, baby, that's the way ... you know how to get a cunt really ticking, oh yes, yes, suck me, don't stop, mmmmm!"
"Ggggggg ... "
His tongue did figure eights in the cavernous glove of her pussy. His tongue went in and out, in and out, and Alma was secreting heavily all over the lapping dagger, a sticky, sweet juice that the man only too happily licked up and sucked down his throat.
Alma started to lose her balance in that awkward position on the bed, and she began to slide off towards the edge. She had to squirm back into place.
The man moved up, covering the body, rolling Ms hands over the girl and pumping his face in and out of her trembling, quivering, orgasmic cunt.
"Ohhhhhhh! I'm starting to come, baby boy ... I am really starting to come!"
"Gggg ... shlurp, shlurp ... "
She shook intensely, and despite everything, no matter how many times she had come already, this seemed like the best ... The current orgasm always seemed like the best one to Alma. It was part of her constitution.
And still he sucked, licking, sucking, pressing. On and on that tongue went, in and out, around the juicy folds of her gorgeous pussy.
"Ahhhhhhhh!" Alma screamed perversely, orgasmically.
His tongue moved at the speed of sound. The tongue dragged all over the orgasmic pussy, in and out, in and out, around and around.
He didn't stop, even after she stopped coming. But Alma didn't mind. He could stay there in her cunt forever, for all she cared.
It would be a nice addition.
But all good things must come to an end. He finally raised his face up, panting loudly.
"Well ... well, how was that, baby?"
"Oh, just fine, darling. You did a good job there, very good indeed."
"Thanks ... thanks."
"But how about putting in just a few more licks, you know, just for good luck?"
He gave a sigh. It was going to be more than a little wearing on his poor tongue.
"How about it?"
"Yeah, okay, okay ... I'm just trying to get the cunt hairs out of my mouth."
"Swallow them. They won't hurt you." She laughed and pulled his face closer.
"Hey, hey, calm down. I'm coming."
"You're coming? It's me who wants to come. So get with it, darling."
He sighed again. Here we go, he said to himself wearily, opening his mouth wide. He touched the hairy cunt with his face, mashing his nose and eyes up and down against the twiny hairs.
"Yes, my cunt smells good, doesn't it?"
He took a deep breath. Well, he couldn't deny it: it did smell damn good.
"Come on, baby, suck me, suck my fat pussy. Lick it to death."
His tongue touched the cunt.
"Lick my clit, damn you! Before I go out of my fucking mind!" Alma screamed delightedly.
His tongue lapped slowly up the length of her pussy. He uncovered her ruby clit, pulsing hard, and his tongue touched the band of muscle and licked it a few times. It jumped at her and got even harder.
"Ooohh! That's the way!"
"Yeah, sure ..."
"Suck, suck, suck!"
"What the fuck do you think I'm doing," he muttered, coming in close again, being attacked by the rising, erotic and steamy odor of her vagina.
He plunged his tongue in deeply, licking up and down, massaging the erect clit, sucking in the sticky, smelly, metallic nectar that the woman was secreting.
"Mmmmmm!" she shouted. "That feels so good ... so fucking fantastic, baby boy!"
She closed her eyes and shook intensely, orgasmic feelings once again climbing up her body, making her skin crawl in that familiar delicious way.
Charles kept on sucking, licking, inhaling, in deeper and deeper, into that big, wide, deep cunt! He sucked till Alma started to shake all over, and he knew she was coming again.
"Ahhhh, oggggg," she wailed and moaned. "That's it, that's it, you brilliant cuntsucker! Suck that pussy of mine and don't stop! Yeah! Yeah! Ohhh!"
In and out, his tongue dabbed, in and out, inhaling, sucking, licking, lapping, making her writhe and roar with rising orgasm.
"Yes! Yes! Unnnnggggg!"
Charles mashed his face back and forth, in and out of her cunt, gripping those plump, creamy thighs and spreading them, kneading the flesh, opening the cunt fully so she could stick all of her face in.
"Shlurp, shlurp ... " He lifted his face up for one quick moment. "Goddammit, I'm trying my best, you crazy bitch, Alma! Can't you tell?"
"I don't know! I don't know! I don't care! Don't you understand? I just want more and more, I want you to suck me faster and- faster and not stop! Never! Never! Ungggghh! I want to come and come and come, Charles! I don't ever want to stop coming!"
"You'll have to search far and wide to find a man who can satisfy that need, baby. I'm only human, I have to admit, so I may not be quite up to your demands. But I am trying my best!"
"Yes, yes! Go on, don't stop. Don't keep talking, you bastard! Suck me!"
"All right, all right ... don't lose control, doll. I don't know if I can handle that ... and I sure don't want you snapping my tongue off with the jaws of your cunt. They're as strong as a shark's."
"Oh shut up and tongue my cunt, you idiot! Before I go crazy!"
He continued, increasing the speed and pressure of his genital lapping, in and out of that sweet hole, into the depths and back out along the hairy circumference.
"Ohhhh! God! I can't believe it ... yes, that's what I wanted ... you know your stuff; you beautiful man, you! Now you know how to satisfy a woman, how to suck out a woman's cunt so she knows she's been sucked!"
Charles licked and licked, on and on, his tongue aching, feeling ready to fall right out, like it was hanging by the threads alone, but still working, making that last hurrah, digging in, into the wet unknown.
Alma's cunt was erupting now for the umpteenth time, but she felt (as she always did during a very good orgasm) that this was her best one ever, her strongest, her most satisfying orgasm ever!
"Ahhhhhhhh! Yes, yes, suck it! Don't stop! Never! Oh my god, Charles, you're beautiful! Magnificent! Yes! Yes, you are! Gaaaaaaa!"
She shook all over, writhing and screaming with the exploding climax.
And Charles, despite the pain it meant, continued to suck on, moving his head up and down, up and down, faster and faster.
Faster and faster, pumping his face in and out of that heaving, shaking, quaking crotch. In and out, pumping that long, weary, wet tongue.
"I'm coming, I'm coming!"
At long last the orgasm reached its peak and quickly slid down the slopes of passion to a valley of breathless rapture.
"Ohhh ... oh my, my, that was something ... dear boy ... dear Charles, you are amazing."
"Ggggg," Charles drooled, his tongue hanging out of his mouth uselessly.
"What's that you're saying? I can't quite understand you, I'm afraid."
"Gggg," he repeated. "Ungghhh ... IIIII ... "
"Yes, well, darling, I feel the same way, I'm sure, whatever you're saying."
She patted him on the head, and then patted her own burning pussy.
"My, my, my that was nice, so very nice. Aren't you glad we didn't finish when we did, but we went on to have this wonderful adventure?"
He stared at her dubiously. He didn't know quite how to tell her that she was more than a match for any man, too much, especially for any human tongue. His felt like a piece of wilted spaghetti.
"What's the matter? Dear? You don't say much. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did."
"Gaaa ... "
"Is that a yes or a no?"
He repeated the same response, sighing deeply as he did.
"Well, no matter," she said, taking a deep breath herself. "I know I did. It was a most enjoyable, exciting experience."
Charles finally found words. "Yes, I guess it was ... for you. But believe me, don't expect every man you meet to be so generous. Yeah, you're a man-killer."
"Thank you, darling ... now, I think if there's nothing further for us to discuss, or suck, I had better get back into my clothes."
She found her panties and climbed into them, smiling saucily at Charles as she did.
He watched her and then he finished dressing.
When he was done she asked him to zip up her dress. He did this and she kissed him, first a sisterly kiss on the forehead, followed by a lover-like kiss on the lips. Charles, at the moment, preferred the sisterly one.
She held an arm out, and he allowed her to link it with his. They went out together. A blissful smile was on her face. A grimace was on his.
CHAPTER 5
It was still early evening and Charles, like Norman, had had to go off somewhere on what Alma believed to be nothing more than an excuse to get away from her, either because of embarrassment over what had happened or simply because his body had been satisfied.
Alma decided if her two brothers could go out, then so could she. It wasn't fair of them, she thought, leaving her in the old house all by herself, yet she understood, partly, why they might feel uneasy. There was mild uneasiness in her, too. But her problem was not so much that she did hot relish the idea of facing them, but rather from the ache of her longing to give fulfillment to her body.
She wore a cocktail dress designed to exhibit, by subtle hiding and subtler announcement, every attraction of her lovely face and sensuous figure. Her jewels were crimson but not gems. So were her slippers and the dyed, thin arrow of visible silk that lined her dress. Her dark eyes reflected the inner intensity of her emotions.
She stood in front of the large mirror in the foyer, turning this way and that, admiring the soft sweep of her hips, the gentle slopes of her breasts. She parted her lips and ran her tongue over the lower one, wetting it to a sleek glisten that made her practiced smile all the more attractive. She ran her hands up her body to a point just under her breasts. She cupped them, squeezed them gently. She set her jaw, picked up her black purse, and prepared to open the door.
But before she could take hold of the knob, the door swung open. "Hello, hello, hello," Hugh burbled.
Hugh would be twenty-five now. He had always been a husky lad, yet had not been as tall as his two older brothers. From what she had read in one of the infrequent letters from Norm, he had taken a job as a limousine driver for some rich woman on Miami Beach. He had always been sort of a loner in his youth. The job he had taken indicated he hadn't changed.
"Well, Hugh!" She opened her arms and went toward him.
"Hi, Sis," he said, giving her a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. He held her away from him then, looked at from head to toe. "Wow! You look great."
"Gee, it's nice to see you. Norman and Charles were here but they went off somewhere. No one else has been here yet."
"You mean they left you here all alone?" he asked, but not sounding too concerned. Then he smiled. "I suppose they went out looking for broads."
"Come in. Sit down."
His eyes glanced over her attire, a quick survey that made it clear to him that she had planned to go out. "Hey, I don't want to get in the way. Looks like you were just about ready to go out."
"I was, but it was only because I didn't want to sit in this big house by myself. I had nothing planned."
"Good." He swung the door shut behind him. He came through the foyer behind her and stopped in the center of the living room. "The old place hasn't changed much," he said, looking around."
"It shouldn't have changed at all for you, should it? Didn't you visit Mom? You live in Miami Beach, don't you?"
"Ah, well, I didn't get over here as often as I should have, I guess. Anyway, I was gone a lot, driving Mrs. Holland all over the country."
"Can I fix you something? A drink? Beer? Something to eat?"
"Maybe a beer," Hugh said.
Alma went into the kitchen for a can of beer. Hugh had watched her go. Although she didn't see him, she felt his eyes on her gently rolling hips, and a little thrill of satisfaction traveled through her. When she came back, he was sitting in one of the big chairs, legs stretched in front of him, ankles crossed.
"Thanks," he said as she handed him the beer. Then he looked at her quizzically. "Hey, aren't you having one?"
She shook her head. "Not right now. I may fix myself a drink later."
"How's the love life?" he asked casually. "Still haven't hooked anyone, eh?"
"No, I haven't hooked anyone-and I don't intend to, at least for some time. I like my life the way it is."
He looked across the rim of the beer can at her, his youthful eyes searching her face to expose the lie that he thought he detected in her words. But she was smiling, and his quick re-evaluation was that she really was satisfied with her life.
"Of course it .would probably work out better if you had just one guy to worry about instead of so many different ones," he said.
"What's that supposed to mean-that I'm shacking up with every man I meet?"
"Well, there are certain biological necessities that have to be considered," he smiled. "I'm pretty sure you're past the hand-holding stage."
"For heaven's sake, Hugh!"
"Oh, I was just talking," he said quickly. "I didn't mean to embarrass you."
"You didn't embarrass me, brother dear. I'm .a grown woman. I'm not the type to faint if I hear a dirty word."
"Fuck."
She gasped. She leaned toward him, eyes wide. "What did you say?"
He tilted his head back and laughed. "I knew it," he said. "That one word shocked the britches off you, didn't it?"
"That's not nice to say, Hugh. We never talked that way in this house, as you know. Yes, I'll admit it shocked me, but not because of the word itself-it was because you used it. I've never heard you use words like that before."
"Things have changed, Alma. The things that shocked our parents are commonplace now. This is an era of enlightenment. We don't try to hide anything anymore. We say what we feel, do what we feel like doing."
She shook her head in a slow side to side movement. "You must have read that somewhere. It doesn't sound like you."
"This me is not the same me you knew," he said. "I grew up since I last saw you."
"Yes, I can see that," she said. She looked searchingly at him. "You must have done a lot of reading."
He laughed lightly. "No, I didn't. I learned most of what I know from practical experience. I've had some good teachers." He paused a moment to take a sip of his beer, then went on. "But you know where I learned the most? From Mrs. Holland."
"The woman you work for?"
He nodded. "She's something. She's only forty-one, a widow. She knows what her body is for." Another sip. "She knows what a man can do for her. She makes everything very ... interesting."
She had always imagined Hugh to be a serious, quiet type whose sex life would have its limitations as a result. To find him the direct opposite was a distinct surprise to Alma. Consequently, his words moved through her mind to form an intriguing pattern of curiosity and interest.
"So now you consider yourself an expert, huh?" she asked.
"Would you like a personal demonstration?" he laughed.
"Oh, silly."
"What's so silly about sex? Sex should be enjoyed whenever a person wants it. And just because you're my sister doesn't mean that a sex session between us wouldn't be pleasant. Some of the most exciting sex parties are between brother and sister. For some reason, there's a closeness about it that makes it seem a lot better."
She looked at him evenly. Her eyes closed slightly and her lips curved. Her voice was huskier than before. "How would you know? Don't tell me you've been to bed with one of your sisters."
"Both of them," he said.
"Hugh!"
"Diane was first, then Cora," he said, looking at her directly. "I had always planned on trying you, but never got the chance. By the time I was old enough to have the guts, you were gone." He sighed, and set the empty can on his knee. "Now we're here alone, but I can see by the look on your face that you don't believe in sex between brother and sister, so I guess I'll just have to forget it."
Her gaze was honestly perplexed, as if she wanted to be angry with him, yet could find only an air of interested amusement in his words. She felt a blush creep onto her neck and sought a spot to look at, beyond the penetrating eyes of her brother. She made a few fidgety movements with her hands, then stopped abruptly when she realized she was exposing her uneasiness.
"Or is that what's on your mind?" he asked.
"You know it wouldn't be right," she said, but the way she said it told him she was not entirely against the idea.
"You're an attractive woman, Sis. Do you like sex?" He leaned forward in his chair. "You just have to love it-any woman with your figure and looks is made for sex."
Her flush remained, a glowing pink, a whole-body thing, and she relaxed as though she had gone through a quick melting process. Her eyes became wet, not teary but glistening wet. And then she shivered a little.
"I love sex," she said boldly.
"Come here."
She took a step forward, then stopped. "No. You come here."
He rose slowly, confidently. He moved forward in an easy glide. He stood in front of her, inches away. "You're not chicken, are you?"
"I'm trying to see if you are," she smiled.
He raised his arms and placed his hands on her shoulders. His fingers compressed the soft flesh in a tight grip. He tilted his head downward and found her lips with his. But he gave her just a brushing, teasing kiss. His hands moved to the back of her neck. With his thumbs against her jawbone, he turned her face up to him. This time the kiss was a bruising, grinding one that brought a low murmur from her.
When she finally pulled herself away, she gasped several times before she spoke. "You're not chicken," she said. She was fully aware that the flames of passion had been ignited in her body, rising from the smoldering embers left there when Charles had denied her satisfaction. That would not happen this time, she vowed.
The room Hugh had used in his childhood was next to that where Norman and Charles had slept. Bruce, the youngest of the Carswells, had shared the room with Hugh, who now moved through it with the confidence of having spent much time in it.
"You're not leading me on, are you?" he asked. "You're not just trying to see how far I'd go with you, then shut me off?"
The gentle ripping sound of her zipper came to him before she spoke. "That's something-you'll have to find out for yourself. Maybe we'll both chicken out."
"Never happen," he said.
For the next minute or so the rustle of clothing was the only sound in the room. Silhouetted against the window, her motions were like those of a dancer as she slipped out of her clothes. In his haste to undress, his actions were more as though he were doing calisthenics, lifting his arms high, raising legs, singly, to step out of his pants and shorts.
Alma stood across the room, naked. She ran her hands up her body and felt the tingle of sexual excitement run through her body. She put her hands on her titties and compressed them. She thumbed the nipples lightly.
"For old time's sake, let's use my bed," he said softly.
She walked slowly across the room, her brain beginning to whirl dizzily over how suddenly they had come together here. She saw the dim outline of his body, a gray-ghost figure standing like a statue, arms held wide. She felt a thrill race through her when the mushy head of his cock touched her belly. She reached down and took hold of the satin-skinned pole.
"This doesn't feel like you're chicken," she said. "God, when did you grow such a thing?"
"I developed it myself, just by using it a lot."
He put his arms around her and toppled her onto the bed. He lay down beside her and pulled her to him. His hands slid caressingly over her smooth skin, gliding lightly, occasionally applying pressure. He found one nipple and rolled it gently between thumb and forefinger. He eased her away from him so that she lay on her back. Her large titty-mounds rose from her like sculptured hills of vanilla ice cream, strawberry topped.
"Now I've finally got my chance to feel your tits," he said. "You don't know how many times I've wondered how they felt." He toyed with her breasts, pinching them slightly with his fingers, fondling the nipples. Then he bent his head to her and kissed her lightly on the chin.
She lay quietly, her body turning gradually into a raging inferno which she was forced to hold in check -for the time being. His caress was so gentle, his touch so soft, moving over her aroused flesh like a whisper against the finest silk. His kisses were the barest of touches, mere hints of what she knew would come later.
He was on his side, his body touching hers. His stiff prick was pressed against her thigh. She slid her hand down his strong young body and put her fingers on it. In her urgency, she gripped it tightly, almost hurting him.
"Easy ... easy," he admonished mildly. "You're going to get it soon enough."
She murmured softly as she writhed pleasurably against him, enjoying his roving hands, his fluttering tongue on her skin. Hugh's cock pressed urgently against her, sometimes so tightly that she found her hand compressed between their bodies and could do nothing but wiggle the tips of her fingers. It was a nice cock, she mused. What attracted her to it was its diameter more than its length. She could hardly wait for him to plunge it into her.
Their mouths fused hotly, tongues circling and slipping. Alma tore her mouth away and pushed his face onto her titties. She rammed her cunt against his hard thigh, then made little fucking motions against it. She rolled back onto her back and tugged at him to get between her legs.
"Please ... I've got to have it now," she hissed.
She lay back in wild anticipation as Hugh rose to his knees and got in position between her legs. He put his hands on her thighs, then slid his fingers into her cunt hair. He pressed on the mound briefly, probing in a soft, caressing movement that made her ass rise off the bed.
"Oh, Hugh, don't tease me like that," she said.
He lifted her shapely legs from the bed so that they stood straight up. He looked at her pussy for a moment, then eased her legs back so that she was bent in half, her cunt and asshole both exposed before him. The lips of her pussy parted slightly and a wet slick formed on the pale-pink inner labia. He sucked in his breath as he looked down at her.
Alma clamped her arms around her legs, raised her head slightly to watch him as he inserted his stiff prick into her slickened, inviting love-hole. She saw him grip the strong shaft in his fist. She felt his other hand go under her ass and raise her slightly. She quivered as the rubbery knob touched her pussy. Ecstatically, she waited for the hot prong to slide into her.
"Have you ever done it different ways?" he asked softly, leaning his head closer to her.
"How do you mean?"
"Anything besides just plain fucking."
She thought quickly about Norm licking her pussy, about sucking Charles' cock. "Umhmm," she murmured.
"I like it a certain way," he said. "In fact, it's the only way I really like it anymore."
"What way?"
"Let me show you."
He swiped his fingers across his mouth and drooled some spit onto them. Then he quickly went to her ass and smeared the saliva across her puckered hole. He slid one finger into the tightened membrane and opened the hole slightly. He lowered his cock and touched it against the smeared hole.
"Ooh, that hurts in there," she said. She had had it done to her that way once-and had been sore for days after.
He moved against her, punching the rubbery knob against the brownish rosebud. The head of his prick slid partially inside. He stopped.
"That's far enough," she said, wincing slightly as the thick cockhead stretched her asshole.
He held for several moments, then pushed forward gently, slowly, easing his hose of flesh deeper into her ass.
Alma wanted to cry out as the pain increased, but she was overcome by the demands of her passion and only clenched her teeth as his prick slipped into her. She thought of how thick his cock had looked and wondered if her asshole could hold it without being torn apart. Then the pain lessened and she throbbed with a new sensual excitement. Some of the tenseness drained out of her.
"Ooh ... it's so ... big," she murmured.
"Does it hurt?"
"A little."
"I can fix that," he said. He slid his cock out of her stretched asshole. He put his hands on the firmly resilient mounds and pried them apart with his thumbs. The pinkish puckered dimple seemed to wink as it drew together again.
Hugh moved his knees on the bed, walked himself backward until his face was directly over Alma's sweet, steaming cunt. He bent low, and she felt his hot, panting breath on the moisture of her cunt and in the crack of her ass. Her pussy was twitching with such eagerness that she wanted to let go of her legs and pull his face into the warm folds of her love canyon.
With a sudden dip of his head, Hugh's tongue shot out and swiped down the wet ravine of her ass, moving upward to barely touch her pussy. As he poked his probing tongue against the sensitive puckers of her asshole, a tremor of delight shot through Alma. She pushed her ass toward his face.
Hugh's tongue was like a flicking, stabbing rapier now. He washed up and down in the crack of her ass, stuck the tip of it into the dainty sphincter of her asshole and worked it back and forth rapidly. Each time he approached it, he allowed more spit to ooze from his mouth and now she could feel a slight coolness as it drooled down her skin. And each time he reached the tight pucker, he drove his tongue in a little deeper, coiling it into a tube.
"Ooh ... ooh," she gurgled in ecstatic delight. "Put your cock back in. Fuck me- ... fuck my ass." The room spun crazily for her as he aroused her passion with his slobbering in the crack of her ass.
Hugh needed no urging to take his face out of the wet chasm and move his cock into position against her asshole. This time there was less discomfort as he pushed his rigid prick into her tight ring and expanded it. He went in slowly, easing into the slavered hole with such a slow movement that she did not realize she was fully impaled on his cock until she felt his thick, curly hair against the enlivened flesh of her ass. And she was surprised at the new-sensation this gave her.
"Is that better?" he asked in a hushed tone.
"Umhmm." Her asshole tingled as it stretched tightly around his thick shaft of meat. He twitched the head to expand and contract the glans and she trembled with this new thrill. "Ohh ... yes-sss."
Then Hugh began a slow back and forth movement in and out of her asshole. With the added spit. Alma could feel less and less pain and now. as the tempo increased, she found herself fucking back the same as she would have had he had his prick in her pussy.
She was still holding her legs down beside her head but as he adjusted his weight atop her and pronged into her asshole, she let go of them and slid her hands down to her pussy. She took hold of the thick shaft of his cock with one. felt the spit-slickened rod slip through her fingers, then put her index finger into her cunt and began to massage her clitoris. When she found her hand being squeezed by his urgent thrusts, she went under her thigh and took hold of his flopping nuts and pressed them against her ass.
Hugh was grunting heavily now as he labored over her, stroking his thick, slippery prick in and out of her hotly clutching asshole. She writhed under him, murmuring incoherently, rolling his balls in her one hand while she worked her clitoris with the other. She raised her head and bit his shoulder, held her face up to him so he could kiss her.
"Um-um-um," she murmured ... "Kiss me ... kiss me, baby."
He put his mouth on hers. He ran his tongue into her wet, open lips, licking her teeth. The aroma of her cunt and asshole was strong on his face and she could taste what he had tasted moments before. She flattened her tongue and licked his face, then slid down onto his neck. She nibbled at the skin. She pulled his arm upward so that his armpit was exposed. She raised her head and licked at the sweaty hairs, then took the tufts into her mouth and sucked on them. When she had enough on one side, she went to the other side and repeated her actions. She was wild-insane-with an overpowering lust for his body.
"Fuck me, my lovely brother. Ram your big prick into my asshole and make me feel it." Her breath was like the hiss of a tea kettle, her words throaty. "Fuck, fuck, fuck ... oh, yes, my baby ... yes, yes, yes."
She had been fucked in the ass before, but it had been so brief that she had derived no satisfaction from it. But now, with her brother driving his thick-shanked cock into her juicy asshole, she found a totally different thrill. Besides, she could fingerfuck herself at the same time, and this turned her body into a hurricane of lust. Her rectal muscles rippled around Hugh's prick. Her cunt quivered. Suddenly, as though he knew exactly at what point she was, Hugh's driving shaft stopped. The head expanded. Then he groaned and drove into her, spilling his hot semen into her bowels.
Alma clutched at him wildly as the first spasm of her quivering cunt gripped her. She felt the hot lava spew into her ass and timed her own orgasm with it. In a shower of bursting lights, she accepted his load. Her asshole convulsed around her brother's spewing cock.
"Ohhh-hhhhh," she groaned. "Ohhhhh!"
When all the lights of the universe finally blinked off, he pulled his semen-streaked cock from her asshole. He moved to the other side of the bed and fell onto his back.
"That's some asshole you have," he groaned.
"It felt so good," she said softly. "I didn't realize it would."
"Do you hurt?"
"No, not really," she said. "It was worth it. I can't wait for you to put that nice dong of yours in the right place, though."
He turned his head toward her in a snap movement. "I told you, I don't care for anything but what I just did."
"You mean you never put it in a pussy anymore?"
"Nope. I don't care for it as much as going up the old dirt road. That's the only way Mrs. Holland wants it, too."
"Would you do it to me if I asked you to?" she asked after a few moments of contemplation. "I'd like it."
"I'm beat."
She reached out and touched his sticky cock. It had sagged considerably from the heavy, rigid shaft it had been moments before. He rolled away from her, putting his back to her.
"It's no use, Sis-I just don't dig pussy like I do a nice tight asshole," he said. "Forget it."
And with those words, Alma didn't dig Hugh at all. Her pussy ached for a nice hot prick-and it was beginning to look as though she would have to find it elsewhere.
She raised herself and sat on the edge of the bed. She got up and searched the floor for her clothes, gathered them up, and went quietly out the door. In the bathroom, she put herself back in order.
"Oh my," she thought out loud, "that was too much. I haven't had a big cock up my asshole in a long time. That felt fantastic, it really did ... though I must admit I was a little afraid there when he started to drive in deep the first time ... afraid that crazy guy was going to rip my tender fanny hole and make me bleed or something ... I wouldn't like that too much."
She looked at herself in the mirror and smiled at the reflection. She recognized that perverse look on her face: it was the look of satisfied lust, the look she had when she had been well fucked. And she had been, no question about it.
Yes, he was a good fucker once he got really going. That asshole obsession of his was a little weird, she thought, but then, there was nothing wrong with a little weirdness.
Her hand slid down to her bottom and pushed in between the taut cheeks. She felt out her asshole and rubbed her finger around on the sticky, dripping come that his explosion had left there.
"Oh yes, I won't protest a bit if he does that to me a few more times."
Her asshole was so lubricated from his come that her finger slipped inside easily. She pushed it in up to the knuckle and then right up to the hilt.
"Oooh, that feels nice ... "
She spread her cheeks with one hand and began to pump the inserted finger in and out.
"Ahhhh ... a finger is sometimes almost as good as a bloody big prick ... oh, no, not as good, but close enough ... and at least my finger doesn't hurt."
She continued to work it back and forth, in and out of her tight asshole, making her sphincter open and close with an erotic rhythm.
"Oh god ... I'm actually getting off on this. I can't believe it!"
She felt a .delicious thrill stealing over her as she jerked off her anus.
She spread her cheeks wider and with great dexterity inserted a second finger, all the way up her dirt track, and then yet a third finger. She took a deep breath and danced around the bathroom, impaled on her three fingers, screwing them around and around in her hole.
There was one finger left, and she was not about to drop the challenge. She raised up, flexed her sphincter and inserted the fourth finger. It was a tight fit, and she had trouble, but finally made it, the fourth finger right up inside that tight, wet rectum. Sperm was drooling all over her wrist.
"Mmmmm ... ohhhhh," she moaned. "Yes ... that's good, almost as good as a prick!"
She spun around, almost falling over. She regained her balance and leaned against the sink, screwing herself with all four fingers. It was very good, and she felt her sphincter spasming with a kind of orgasm.
"Oh, this is too much! Ahhhhhhh! Yes, yes, I'm coming, I am! Mmmmm!"
Suddenly, the bathroom door opened and her brother entered. He stood there silent, a wicked smile on his face, staring at her.
"Well, well, what the hell shenanigans are you up to now, dear?"
"Oh, just exploring my asshole, a little more. A whole new world has opened up to me, so to speak, since you stuck your cock in."
"Ah, well, in that case, I guess you could look on my ass-fucking as being somewhat educational, hm? I make a pretty good teacher, don't I?"
"Very good."
"Are you finished there?"
She stroked her fingers in and out several more times at a harsh speed. Then her convulsing slowed and she let one finger at a time slip out of her ass.
"Mmmmm, that was good ... "
"It looked like you were having a whole lot of fun. Why didn't you give me a shout?"
"I thought you wanted to rest."
"I never leave a lady in distress when she has need of a man, fingers, or cock."
"I did all right, I guess."
The final finger came out. She looked at her hand, smiled, and showed it to her brother with a smile. The hand was dripping with come.
"Is that mine?" he asked.
"Of course. You don't think come grows in my asshole naturally, do you?"
"Heh heh ... "
She washed her hand off in the sink, then moved over to the toilet.
"Care to watch your sister pee?" she asked him. "That might be educational, too."
"Sure thing. I'm always ready to learn something new, baby."
She sat down on the toilet, perched at the edge, her spine stiff and straight. She spread her thighs and brushed the hairs away from her pit.
"Watching?"
"Yes, ma'am."
He smiled excitedly and crouched down just in front of her, staring intently at her furry pussy, the pink meat exposed and pouting.
Alma wiggled her plump ass a bit on the white porcelain, flexing her sphincter, opening her cunt more.
"Here we go ... "
He grabbed at his crotch and massaged it. This was a real turn-on to him.
"What are you doing there?" she asked him.
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, you don't have to rub your prick while I'm here. Let me do it ... "
She grabbed a hold of his crotch and squeezed tightly. His cock grew taut in her grasp.
"Piss, baby, do it ... "
"Yes, here it comes."
Her cunt flexed a bit, and then discharged a smooth, hard stream of yellow liquid, shooting down into the toilet bowl with a loud gurgle and splash.
His cock grew considerably at the sight of this body movement.
"Far out, baby," he muttered, licking his lips.
"Glad you like it."
When she finished she pulled off some toilet paper and wiped dry her cunt and then her come-stained asshole.
CHAPTER 6
Diane was a year younger than Hugh. Alma smiled when she thought of the closeness of the family's ages, an indication that her father and mother were more than casually interested in sex. Of course, she had realized long ago that her father had hot rocks for anything that was alive. That her mother had given birth to eight children meant that she must have been a willing partner. But, even if the sexual fires burned hotly in Alma and her parents, there seemed to be no such desires in Diane.
Diane was on the plain side, and preferred reading a good book to most anything else. Alma felt closer to Diane than the others simply because Diane was the oldest girl. They had often bathed together and Alma wondered if her younger sister's titties had ever grown to more generous proportions than she remembered. It had been a joke around the house that Alma had gotten a double portion of tit while Diane got shorted.
Alma slept late the next morning. She had been disappointed in Hugh. Disgusted, too. When she sat down, she winced because of her sore asshole. During her moments of ecstasy with him, she had not realized how sore he had made her.
Now, as she sat on the vanity chair, putting on her face, she had a few moments to think about her real reason for being here. The reading of the will had been set for Friday. It was only Tuesday. If some of the others didn't show up to keep her company, she would have to get out of the house for a while. It was stifling her.
She remained upstairs until almost noon. She had heard nothing in the house since her awakening. Either she was all alone in the big house or everyone was being terribly quiet. If the three boys were there, she knew she would have to force herself to look at them directly. Their denials of her sex urges left her in the uncomfortable position of being embarrassed. She felt somehow that they would be laughing at her.
She couldn't explain why Diane had entered her mind. She hadn't seen the girl in a long time. Perhaps it was mental telepathy. Or had she heard the faint sound of a woman's voice and immediately associated it with her sister?
She went out into the hallway and listened. Everything seemed deathly quiet. Then, just as she took the first steps toward the stairway, she heard the muffled, indistinct sound of voices. But they were not coming from downstairs, which was where Alma expected them to originate. No, they were coming from one of the bedrooms.
Silently, moving gracefully, she moved down the long hallway, a long, dark tube of nothing but doors.
Alma suddenly stiffened. The door to Hugh's room was partway open; light was coming into the room through the drawn blind, giving just enough light for Alma to see two figures on the bed. Her jaw dropped open as she found herself staring at Diane and Glint, the latter whom the family had always referred to as Hugh's twin.
Glint was a student at the University of Miami. He was eighteen now, but Alma knew very little about him because she had left home when he was only twelve. Like Hugh, he had been a shy, reserved type. Now Alma wondered if that shyness was only a cover-up, because he was far from being reserved or shy now; he was naked, and he was holding Diane in his arms. She, too, was naked.
Glint raised himself up on his arms and stared down at Diane's breasts. There was a curious look on his face as he looked down at the tits, as though caught up in the grip of some great emotional warmth.
Diane lay on her back, knees up. She was toying with his balls as he slid his slick cock in and out of her. Then, when she moved her hand away for a moment, Alma could see that Glint was built almost the same as Hugh. Even their pricks were twins, she thought.
"I'm going to make you come again," he grunted. "This time it's going to be even better than the first time."
Diane simply smiled as he began to thrust more rapidly in her pussy, and she nibbled his shoulder as the tremors started to take hold of her cunt.
Alma shuddered as she saw Diane getting fucked. She thought of herself being denied the feel of a hot cock in her wanting pussy. It made her jealous, yet she knew she could not brazenly push into the room and demand to be fucked. Seeing his oldest sister- being caught by her-Glint would probably flee from the house in embarrassment.
"Aaahhh!" The sigh interrupted Alma's train of thought, and she glanced down the hallway to see if anyone might have seen her.
Diane's cunt was twitching around Glint's prick. Alma could almost feel the tight twat muscles clenching the hard, thick prick. They had set up a slow rhythm, a tempo that meant they were preparing for another orgasm. But then Glint stopped. He bent down and took Diane's right nipple in his teeth. He chewed on it while Diane quivered in delight, and then he pulled his head upward, drawing the tit away from her chest as he did so. The tit finally reached the limits of its stretchability, and Glint let it fall back to its natural position, where it bounced for a second or so while he watched.
Clint shook his head and smiled: "You're really something," he said lovingly.
"Shhh, Alma's just down the hall," Diane said. "She might hear you."
He chuckled lightly. "What do you suppose she'd say if she knew what we were doing?"
"She might want you to fuck her, too."
"Not a bad idea," Glint said in a hushed tone. "She's built."
Diane's lower lip came out in a pout. "She was always a lot bigger than me. I wonder if those big titties have sagged any since we last saw her."
"I don't know, but I'd sure like to get my hands on them. God, she used to drive us nuts with those big things bouncing all over the place."
"Fuck me some more," Diane said, obviously wanting to get his mind off Alma's big tits.
"Okay," he said breathlessly. He reached between their bodies with his right hand while resting his weight on his left arm, He found her clit and squeezed it between two fingers. Diane shuddered, her cunt contracting around his prick. Clint grinned. He squeezed again, and once more Diane's twat twitched.
Alma listened excitedly as Clint muttered unintelligible words of lust. She watched as he shoved his two probing fingers down to where his cock entered her hole; he coated his fingertips with pussy juice and returned them to her clit. He stroked the tender bud carefully as he moved faster and faster, harder and harder, in her cunt. She was groaning now; stray drops of saliva had dried in stiff little flecks around her lips.
"Hnnnnnnuhhhh!" The cry escaped Diane's chest with so much power that Clint had to cling to her to keep from being thrown off. He caught himself, then increased the tempo of his fucking. He closed his eyes to savor the sensations.
Alma clutched her crotch as she watched. She could almost feel how hot and stiff Glint's cock was as she saw the slippery pole glide in and out of Diane's cunt. There was a tingling in her groin and she put her two fingers against her clit and massaged it in the same rhythm of the two fucking figures in the room.
"I'm ... I'm coming," Diane hissed. As her powerful vaginal sphincter clenched Glint's cock, Alma's pussy tightened, too. "Yes, yes ... give it to me," Diane went on, oblivious to the loudness of her voice. "Fuck me. Fuck me, baby!"
The ring of muscle in Alma's cunt relaxed, then tightened again. It made squeezing motions as though she had a stiff prick buried in her. She clung to the side of the door as the spasms wracked her body as they were wracking Diane's bucking body.
Clint had felt the heat rising in his cock, his balls being drawn up. As he pumped, his asshole was exposed to Alma's view and she took a split second to marvel over the amount of hair in the crack of his ass.
"God! God!" Clint cried out. He didn't seem to care if anyone heard him or not; at a time like this he wasn't worrying about it. He just pounded against Diane's cunt, letting the hot, scorching semen boil from his swollen cockhead. He pulled his right hand from her clitoris and held his body off the bed with both arms and looked down at Diane's happily grimacing face before closing his eyes once again to surrender his mind to passion.
Alma thought she was going to swoon. Her head spun dizzily. She clutched the doorjamb for support. Her knees felt weak and shaky. She knew she couldn't just stand here shaking. She turned and walked quickly down the hallway to her room where she fell onto the bed, quivering, blinded by the tears that leaked from her. But it was not disgust or embarrassment or jealousy she felt; it was a deep, aching longing for a man's hot cock in her twitching cunt that brought the tears.
Alma did not know how long she lay there in her lonely room. When she finally decided to get up, the quietness of the big house engulfed her more pressingly than before. The old home was located, typically for Miami, on a dead-end street, and whatever traffic noise there was, became muffled and distant, coded down from a variety of distinct sounds to a dull hum. Alma listened to the silence, a deafening nothing that made her want to scream.
She went to the window and looked out. It had rained in the morning and looked as though it might rain again soon. The afternoon squall was towering up over the Everglades to the west and she could sense the pulse of lightning inside the dark clouds, feeling them like hammer blows inside her troubled body. There was no thunder that she could hear. The wet lawn glittered in a solid sunshine and the sun beat on the flower-trees and flower-shrubs, a confetti of tropical colors. A mocking bird's song burst through the stillness like a cracking whip. Her body leaped at the sound.
Then, like a long-awaited blessing, she heard the sound of voices tumble through the long hallway, a lot of voices, gay and laughing. The whole family must be here at last!
Alma checked her face in the mirror, decided it needed some minor repairs, and quickly applied the necessary touches that she hoped would erase the lines of frustration. This done, she hurried downstairs.
The family was gathered in the living room, all standing, indicating they had been in the house but a short time. When Alma came down the stairs, all talking stopped.
"Hey, there's the chief of the family now," Norm called out. He went to the foot of the stairs to wait while she slowly descended. "Look what showed up." He waved a hand at the others.
"Hello, everyone," Alma called. "Gee, I'm glad you're all here. It's been awfully lonesome."
"I got here about five minutes ago," Clint said. He looked at Diane, flicked his eyes to indicate she should follow the same lie.
"Yes, Clint and I got to the house at the same time," Diane said. "Gee, it's nice to see the old place again." She walked away from the group and began examining the room.
"Cora, you're looking well," Alma said, smiling at the prettiest of the Carswell girls, including Alma. Cora was Alma's favorite. She had been the first to marry. Her golden blond hair had been the envy of the other two girls, yet they were not jealous of her; her personality was bubbly and offset any enmity any of the others might have had for her. She was twenty-three now, and had two children, born a year apart.
If any of the boys felt guilty over what they had done, they covered it well. Norm had already begun telling one of his stories, and Charles and Hugh listened. Clint was walking through the house with Diane, while Cora and Bruce sat and talked with Alma.
Bruce was the youngest. He was a handsome boy, now seventeen. He had always been a very slender, reedlike lad. He wore his hair long, down to his shoulders, and his clothes were mod, frilly things-. His shoes were sharp-pointed, with large silver buckles across the instep. He had come to visit Alma a couple of times and she had tried to encourage him to eat more so he wouldn't look so frail. But he had told her curtly that he preferred to look the way he did instead of like some big farm horse. After that, she had avoided the subject of food.
A burst of laughter broke out from the three older brothers. Alma's attention was drawn to the group for a moment, then she looked at Bruce. "You should listen to some of Norman's stories," she said. "Some of them are a riot."
"Most of them I've heard are crude," Bruce clipped. "I don't like dirty stories."
"Oh, I don't think they're dirty. Risqu�, perhaps, but I always thought they were pretty funny."
"Me, too," Cora said. "Maybe you just don't understand them, Bruce."
"I understand them, dear sister." He got up and walked toward the kitchen.
Alma shook her head. "Poor boy. Wait till he gets his first girl, then he'll be writing to Norman for jokes to tell her."
Cora looked at Alma evenly. "I don't know, Alma. Bruce has never been interested in girls. He always liked being by himself, just like Hugh and Glint, but they got over that. I think Bruce is one of those deep thinkers. He never really joined into things with the rest of us."
Alma shrugged. "I've got problems of my own that I can't figure out. I can't worry about someone else's."
Cora put her hand on Alma's, looked at her evenly. There was a troubled, distant look in her eyes. "It's so good to see you again, Alma. There are so many things I want to talk to you about."
"I think I have the broadest shoulder of anyone in the family," Alma replied. "Where would you like to start?"
Cora looked briefly at her knees, bare knees, cute. She put her hand on one and flayed her fingers over the tight skin. "I've been married quite a while, as you know. Jim is a good husband. Good to the kids, good to me. In the beginning everything went along smoothly and-"
"Are you and Jim having trouble?" Alma cut in.
"Well, not that kind of trouble, if that's what you're thinking. It's something else. Somehow, I have the feeling that I'm missing out on something, as though a part of me wasn't living. Oh, I don't know how to say it ... "
Alma glanced at her three brothers across the room, then turned back to Cora. In that moment, she had evaluated her sister's words and asked a one-word question. "Sex?"
Cora nodded.
"You're unhappy with your sex life?"
Cora repeated the nod. "Maybe I'm in love with love," she said. "Maybe there isn't any more to it than what I'm getting. But I always seem to want something more." She swept a quick glance at her brothers. "When we're through, I'm ... ah, well, I'm not satisfied."
Alma shook her head. "I always thought Jim would be a good lover."
"Oh, he's all right ... I guess," Cora said. "But we seem to have fallen into a rut. We do the same thing every time." She looked down at her hand, then quickly back at Alma. "He never wants to do anything ... different."
"That can be dull," Alma conceded. "Maybe he's afraid you wouldn't understand. Maybe you should have a talk some night, or get some books. One good way to break the ice is to get in bed with one of those wild sex books and read it together. I've heard that sort of thing turns some people on."
"So? It turns him on, we have our session, and that's that. The same old thing again."
Alma smiled. She understood the problem Cora was having. She'd heard the same story a hundred times from other women. And she'd heard it from men, too. She said, "What you do is make an agreement with Jim before you start. Whatever happens in the book will be exactly what you do together, no matter what it is."
Cora shivered a little, closed her eyes and shook her head. "My neighbor had one. I read a few pages of it and ... "
"You thought it was awful," Alma added. "But you've got to realize people who enjoy sex do everything that's in those books. You've already told me you've got a problem. Well, maybe one of those books would be the solution. It's worth a try."
"But the things I read ... "
Alma looked at her directly. When she spoke, her voice was low, husky. "Wouldn't you like to do some of the things you read about?" she asked. "Be honest now. Wouldn't it thrill you?"
"All right, I'll be honest," Cora said quickly. "Yes, the few pages I read told about doing something I've wanted to do for a long time. But I'm afraid. I'm afraid Jim will think I'm some kind of perverted nut. And I'm just dying to have him do to me what the man in the book did." Her face flushed noticeably, and she kept her eyes to the floor.
"You mean you've never done anything but ... ?"
"Normal intercourse."
"Oh, dear!"
Alma's brain spun in a flurry of conflicting emotions. The mere subject of sex had already caused the embers of desire to glow more brightly in her and she wondered if she could engineer one of the boys into bed with Cora, teach the poor girl something about sex. But would Cora agree to such an arrangement? And which one of her brothers would she pick? So far, Alma had tried sex with three of them -and all three had disappointed her. Maybe, if Cora wanted to suck a cock so badly-and Alma was sure that's what the girl had meant earlier-then Charles would be the one. Norm had preferred eating pussy to fucking-that should turn Cora on, too. But, she thought, as she felt the slight pain in her asshole, that ass-fucking Hugh would never do. Glint was out because it appeared he and Diane had a thing between them. Bruce? Never. He was lucky if he knew which end of his cock to piss out of.
Then, as she turned the thoughts over in her mind, she wondered why she should try to arrange for Cora to get fucked at all. It was she, Alma, who needed it. All that sex and she had yet to realize the pleasure of a hot, slippery cock in her longing pussy.
"Have you ever done any of those things?" Cora asked after a long period of silence had stretched between them.
Alma smiled. "I've done everything I've felt like doing."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"Let's just say there's nothing in any of those books that shocks me," Alma laughed.
"And nothing ever bothered you? I mean, you never felt guilty afterwards? Or embarrassed?"
Alma shook her head. "I wouldn't have done them if I thought it would bother me later. I do whatever I like. I want my partner to do everything he likes. Whatever you do has to be what you both enjoy. It's got to be fun. I think that's where a lot of people are misled. For some reason, they think that sex has to be performed in a certain way, at a set time and by prescribed rules. That's wrong. There are no rules, no set way of doing it." She paused to glance at the three brothers, who had now moved out of earshot and were standing just outside the kitchen door. "Just remember this. Cora-you do what you feel like doing at the time. Do you understand what I'm talking about?"
"Yes. But I suppose doing something different the first time is ... hard, isn't it?"
"Not too bad. Just let yourself go, that's all. After that you keep looking for new ways to find pleasure. It's fun-and that's what it's all about in the first place."
Alma had no way of knowing if what she had told Cora would have any effect on the girl's sex life, but at least it would set her to thinking. That could be a big step.
She knew what an influence such words had on her own life when her father spoke them. That was a long time ago, she realized, but she was still living the philosophy of life that he instilled in her.
Yes, he had told her that we only go around once, and life was too short for all the silly guilt feelings and stupid inhibitions that so many of us feel all the time. There was no reason for it. There was no one to answer to when we died, so why worry about what we did in the short time we had to do it in.
She listened to her father, and she believed he was right, and from then on she had no guilt about her actions, and no inhibitions whatsoever.
It was shortly after adopting that same philosophy that she began having sex with her father, and fucking and sucking her own brothers.
Sure, most of the people on this earth would look at her behavior as morally repugnant, but when a person had no sense of morals, no understanding or belief in the word itself, then she could not be expected to live her life like most of the guilt-ridden people of this world. Even in today's permissive society, Alma realized that most people, old or young, were still basically puritans, afraid to do anything out of the ordinary, and if they did brave such a thing, would feel forever guilty about it.
But not Alma.
When she fucked her father, or her brother, or seduced some young boy, some fifteen or sixteen-year-old, she had no scruples about it, no afterthought. She had a craving for sex with that individual, or individuals, and she would make every effort to satisfy that craving.
She wondered again if Cora would take her advice and learn to live with and respond to her feelings, whatever those feelings might be.
It would be hard for somebody who had lived differently, matured with a sense of scruples and ethics and all those old-fashioned concepts.
But if she really wanted to, she could do it. She could become a real woman.
Alma had done it.
CHAPTER 7
Alma had been asleep. When she awoke she had no idea how long she'd slept. The stillness in the big house indicated everyone else had turned in. Outside, there was a hushed silence, a late-night stillness in which every slight sound was amplified.
When she opened her eyes she was staring at two perfect, but smallish breasts. The nipples were only inches from her lips, and her head was cradled in warm arms.
Alma looked up, puzzled. "Cora?"
Cora said nothing, merely smiled. Alma became conscious of the fact that one of Cora's hands was wrapped around one of her breasts, squeezing it gently.
Murmuring with pleasure, Cora stared at one of Alma's ripe nipples. She leaned forward. "This is one of the things I thought about," she said softly. She slipped her lips around the hard knob and pulled it between her teeth.
The initial surprise left Alma in a flash. She wanted to be loved so badly it made no difference to her now what kind of love it was. "Oh, Cora ... I'm so glad you came," she whispered. "I've thought about this, too."
Cora lay on Alma's big. chest, sucking gently on one tit. She ran her hands around the luscious mounds and squeezed them. She went across the big tits, put her lips on the other nipple, and nursed on it like a child sucking it's mother's breast. She felt Alma's chest heave and swell with passion under her kisses.
Alma murmured then. She wriggled closer to her sister and felt the warm flesh against hers. She reached down, nudged one of Cora's legs aside, and put her hand on the silky hair on her pussy.
Anxiously, Cora opened her legs wider.
Alma slipped her fingers gently against the cushion of hair. She massaged the mound gently as Cora continued to suck her tits.
Cora's hunger became greater, almost fierce. When she began to pant over the wet tit, she put one hand atop Alma's and pressed the fingers hard against her cunt. She groaned as two of Alma's fingers slipped easily into her hot pussy.
The feeling of her sister's fingers in her cunt stirred her and made her body shudder. She moved upward a little. More eager now, Cora began to lap hungrily on the raised nipple. She pulled more and more of the big tit into her mouth.
Alma moaned. Her fingers started moving in and out of Cora's wet cunt. She pressed them deeper, then started to draw them out of the slippery hole. Cora clamped her legs shut, stopping the hand from moving away.
"Fingerfuck me a little, "Cora whispered hoarsely.
Struggling slightly, Cora worked her arms around Alma's back. She hugged her face against one of Alma's huge tits and held tight as she waited for Alma to begin fucking with her fingers. Her hips started urgent, jerking motions.
Alma drew back. She reached under Cora's shoulder with one hand. She pulled her younger sister up against her and stared into her eyes as she worked her fingers in and out of the girl's pussy.
"I'm so glad you're here," Alma said. "Don't hold back anything, dear."
Cora closed her eyes for a moment and relaxed under the slow fingerfuck Alma was giving her. Then she opened them and stared down at the thick patch of black hair between Alma's legs. She trembled involuntarily and licked her lips.
Smiling, Alma took one of Cora's hands and moved it along her delightfully soft leg until the fingers touched her pussy hair. She pressed Cora's fingers onto the spongy hill over her cunt.
"I'd like you to give me a little fucking, too," Alma said. "But don't try to make me come. We'll save that for a little later."
Gingerly, Cora felt her sister's cunt. She pressed down, then slid her fingers down to feel the moist outer lips. She parted the hair and placed her middle finger between the parted cunt-lips.
Alma groaned as Cora's touch shot a bolt of pleasure through her. She began to move her ass back and forth as Cora's finger started to slide into the inner wetness of her cunt. She parted her legs, drew her ass back so Cora's finger came in contact with her clitoris.
Cora's finger moved across the hard knob gently. She put her mouth back on one of Alma's tits and sucked slowly, laying her tongue flat on the heaving mound to lick the dark aureole.
Alma pulled back suddenly. She slid her fingers out of Cora's pussy and took her hand out of- the girl's crotch. Then she eased Cora's mouth off her tits. She was panting heavily and her eyes shone with a wanton brightness.
"Sit on the edge of the bed," she said, rising from the bed. She stood at the edge, reached down, and pulled Cora's legs off the side. "I can't stand it any longer," she hissed. "I just have to do this!"
She dropped to her knees and parted Cora's legs gently. She stared between them at the black patch of hair over Cora's pussy. She moved forward.
"Oh-hhh," Cora moaned as soon as she felt Alma's mouth on her leg. She wanted to watch. She wanted to do something to Alma. Instead, she fell back on the bed and waited for Alma's tongue to go into her slightly open cunt.
Alma rested her arms on Cora's spread legs, her face just inches from the reddish-brown, hairy hole. She turned and kissed the inner thigh, took a portion of the soft flesh in her mouth and licked it. She felt Cora tremble in eagerness. The smell of hot pussy was strong in Alma's nostrils as she continued to suck and kiss Cora's soft flesh. The hair of the girl's twat tickled her forehead.
"My God, Alma, what are you doing to me? I feel like I'm on fire!"
"Just be patient, dear."
Alma looked at the hairy wet hole directly in front of her face. She touched the glistening lips with two fingers. She stared avidly as she pressed her fingers into the open snatch and saw them swallowed completely.
"Let me do this some more," Alma whispered as she worked her flat hand into the moist folds of Cora's inner cunt.
"Yes. yes ... do it." She rolled her head from side to side as though in agony. Her legs quivered as the hand went deeper into her juicy cunthole.
Gently, Alma reached deeper into her. She wiggled her fingers and could feel the beginnings of little oozings of cunt juice. She pressed harder and worked her fingers about, loving the sensuous feeling of having her hand buried in another woman's pussy.
Cora had tensed a bit earlier but now relaxed to allow Alma's hand to sink deeper and deeper into the soft folds of her juiced twat. She moved her hips up and down. She put her hands on her own titties and rolled the nipples between thumb and forefinger.
Alma kept perfect time, adjusting to Cora's ass movements. She eased her fingers in and touched, then moved them out and found the clitoris.
"Ooh, that's nice," she whispered as her clit came alive in her crotch. She was panting and her entire body was aglow with desire. Her face was flushed from a sensation she had never experienced before.
Alma's breath cascaded over Cora's cunt hair. She ran her hand under the cheeks of Cora's ass an held the firm mounds. Then she raised the girl's legs over her shoulders. She searched in the crevice of her ass and found the puckered asshole. She tickled it a moment, then tried to enter, touching it lightly with one fingertip. She felt Cora tense, withdraw slightly. She took her hand away, ran her finger into her mouth to moisten it, then pressed it gently into the pinched hole.
"Ooohhh," Cora moaned.
"Does it hurt?"
"N-no."
Alma ran her finger all the way in, moved it around.
"I like that," Cora sighed.
Alma lowered her face to Cora's cunt. As her lips touched the open hole, her finger plumbed in Cora's asshole. As she moved her finger about, she stirred the strong odor from the puckered mouth and that aroma, blended with that from the hot cunt, sent a lusting thrill through her. She plunged her face into the waiting cavern and began to lick hungrily.
"Oh!"
Alma plunged her finger back and forth in Cora's asshole. She took small nips of the tender membranes of her cunt. She flicked her tongue on the clitoris, then dunked it quickly into the lower section of the girl's twat. She took her tongue out and swabbed it back and forth over Cora's crotch. She sunk lower into the crack of her ass and licked the finger she was pushing in and out of the gently tight asshole. She took the finger out and stuck her tongue briefly into the hole.
Alma was working in a frenzy, but it was not entirely her own passion that governed her. She wanted to arouse Cora to such an extent that their sex party could continue the rest of the night. She wanted to free Cora from whatever inhibitions were holding her back. But, most of all, she wanted Cora to return the love she was showering on the girl.
When Cora's body tensed in her first orgasm, Alma stopped all motion and lay between her sister's legs, her breath burning hotly against the girl's pussy.
"Oh, Alma," Cora sighed. "That felt wonderful. I've never felt anything like that before."
"You mean you've never had it done to you like that?"
"No."
"Jim never tried?"
"No. I wanted him to, but he didn't seem to get the idea."
"Did you ever put his cock in your mouth?"
"Oh, no ... never."
"Why not?" Alma asked. "You wanted to, didn't you?"
"Yes, I wanted to-lots of times."
"I know-you were afraid," Alma said resignedly. "If you had just gone ahead and done it, you might have been pleasantly surprised. That's one of the things a man really likes, getting his cock sucked."
"I didn't know that," Cora said. She was silent briefly, then said, "But there's that stuff that comes out. What do you do when he comes?"
Alma wanted to laugh. For a married woman, Cora was about as naive as they came. "Well, you can either swallow it or spit it out," she said.
"Swallow it?" Cora asked incredulously.
"Sure. It's nothing but protein."
"It doesn't make you sick or anything?"
"No, it doesn't make you sick," Alma sighed.
Alma could almost hear the wheels of thought spinning in her sister's head as she digested what she had just been told. It was obvious that the idea of eating a man's semen held no immediate appeal for Cora, but Alma was sure if she ever tried it, she wouldn't mind a bit.
"Have you ever done it to a man that way?" Cora asked.
"Sucked his cock? Of course. I told you I'd done everything and I do mean everything."
"And you swallowed that ... that stuff?"
"Oh, come on, Cora, you're just getting your kicks by pumping me. Why don't you chew on Jim's cock, make him come, and swallow it? Then you'll know how it feels and what his come tastes like."
"I didn't mean to make you mad," Cora said weakly. "I just wanted to know."
"I'm sorry. I thought you were putting me on," Alma said. "But I do think if you want to improve your sex life you're going to have to start doing something besides just plain fucking. Let him put it in your ass one time, suck him off another. He can go down on you, eat your pussy like I did. You seemed to like having my tongue in your asshole-have him do that, too."
Alma thought Cora would be shocked by this sudden outburst. Instead, she seemed mildly thrilled at the sound of the crude terms, even giggled at the idea of having a man fuck her in the ass instead of the cunt.
"And please don't ask me what it's like," Alma said curtly. She pressed her face into Cora's wet cunt and kissed the drenched hole. "I'm going to give your pussy a rest for a while. Now you'll find out what eating a pussy is all about."
"What do you mean?"
"You're going to give me a taste of your tongue. I want you to lick me just like I did you."
Cora was silent for some time. Alma got off the floor and got onto the bed with her. Her body felt tense as Alma ran her hands across her belly and onto her pussy.
"You know, what you've told me tonight has made me see things differently," Cora said at last. "I'm going to do everything I've always wanted to. And I'm not going to be ashamed of anything I do, either."
"I'm glad you feel that way about it," Alma said gently. She probed into her sister's pussy lips, then moved to kiss the girl's titties. "I want you to make love to me now."
"Oh. no, I can't," she said quickly. "You've got me so hot I've just got to go and see how Jim will react to me ... ah, kissing his ... him down there."
"How can you? He's still up in Palm Beach, isn't he?"
"Oh, no, he's staying at his mother's over in Belle Isle. I can be there in fifteen or twenty minutes." She sat up on the bed, dropping Alma's arm off her chest. "I'll surprise him. I'll just crawl into bed with him and ... oh, my, I'm so excited'."
"I thought you wanted to be with me," Alma said glumly.
"I'm sorry, Alma. But I'm grateful, too. You opened my eyes by telling me what you did. And doing what you did. I feel like I've been born all over again."
"It isn't fair," Alma said softly. "I wanted you. I need you, dear. You can't leave me like this. I'm going crazy as it is."
Cora stood up and looked down at her older sister. "I'd like to stay, Alma, but I'm afraid if I don't go and do this thing now, I won't have the courage to do it later. What you did to me really turned me on. Thanks. Thanks so much." She stooped to pick up her robe, slipped into it, and went out the door.
"Yeah, thanks a heap," Alma muttered. "Thanks a great big heap of shit!"
Then the wracked vessel that was her body sprung a leak and she fell asleep in her own tears.
CHAPTER 8
The next morning, Alma was a seething bundle of nervousness. She had slept fitfully, awaking frequently during the remainder of the night to lie awake and stare up at the ceiling. Several times she sought courage to get up and go to the room where Glint was sleeping. She decided against it when she realized he might be with Diane. Norm and Charles had left the house to sleep elsewhere.
She was the first one up. She went to the kitchen and made coffee. As she sat and sipped the steaming brew, the pained longing between her legs became almost unbearable. The contacts with the other members of the family had not satisfied her in the least. Instead, they had only increased her sex urges.
Because she was the head of the family, she felt she should remain at the house. If she left, she made it as brief as possible, returning within an hour. She had been in contact with Clement Borstein, the lawyer handling the will, and he had suggested she stay close at hand so that he could fit her into his tight schedule of legal dealings. There were a lot of details to be worked out in connection with the disposal of property. The negotiations involving the appliance stores was especially nettlesome.
Alma had talked very little with either Glint or Diane. It was not because she didn't want to; the two had remained apart from the others, preferring to sit together and talk or stroll around the yard. Alma couldn't be sure if the others knew about the relationship between the two-the session in the upstairs bedroom-and she assumed they didn't, for none of them had as much as hinted that there might be some hanky-panky between the two. They seemed to accept it as the normal attachment one member of a family had for another.
Bruce, quiet and appearing to hold everything in mild disdain about the old house, had remained to himself. His aloofness had been put off to shyness. He had spent most of his time in his old room. But the room in which he secreted himself was not the room he had shared with his brother during their childhood. It was one of two extra bedrooms on the second floor of the old house. Bruce had asked permission to use it for himself. He wanted the privacy, he had told his mother. He could work and study better there. He had been granted his wish without question.
As Alma sat over her second cup of coffee, it occurred to her that she had never seen Bruce's hideaway room. Actually, there had been no reason for her to go there except to knock on the door, which he kept locked at all times, and ask a question or pass on some message.
Bruce had been the only one to remain at home until his mother died. When death came to his mother, he had moved out. He visited the old home frequently, however, supposedly checking to see that vandals hadn't gotten in and ruined or removed the contents.
Alma decided she would like to see the room. The house was to be sold anyway, so whatever privacy Bruce's room had provided in the past, would soon be over. She finished her coffee and went up the stairs.
Dressed only in her robe, she moved silently down the still, darkish hallway. Out of curiosity, she opened door after door to see if anyone had decided to sleep at the old home after all. She found Clint sleeping soundly, alone. Diane, too, was sound asleep. She closed the doors quietly, checked the other rooms. They were all empty.
Because of his wish for privacy, Bruce had been given the room at the far end of the hall. It looked out on the back yard.
She tried the knob. The door was locked.
Suddenly, a strange, wanton feeling swept over her. She felt a slight tremor go through her body, felt her pulse quicken. The sensation was totally un-explainable to her. She had never envisioned her seventeen-year-old brother as a sexual prospect. Yet now, here, as she stood outside his mystery-shrouded room, the realization crept over her that her sole reason for being outside his door was because of the deep, sensuous longing for a male body. Subconsciously, she had cast Bruce in the role of a sexual object.
Accepting this, she tapped on the wooden paneling of the door. Her course was clear; if she could catch him off guard, still enjoying the warmth and comfort of his bed, she stood a much better chance of seducing him.
She tapped again, louder this time.
There was a soft moan inside, followed by the noise made by a shifting body on a squeaky bed.
"Bruce? It's me-Alma."
"Huh? Oh, yeah." The rustle of bedclothes being thrown back. "What time is it?" The soft thump of bare feet hitting the floor, then padding toward the door. Then, from directly behind the thin panel of the door, "What do you want?"
"Unlock the door. I want to come in."
"But I'm ... I just got up."
"Bruce," she said firmly, "unlock the door."
Obediently, he undid the latch, his seventeen years unable to cope with a direct order from his oldest sister.
Alma had her hand on the knob even before he unlocked the door. She turned the heavy brass knob and swung the door open.
The room had about it a twilight darkness, even though it was morning, the same indefinite antiqueness as the rest of the house. The bed was covered with a shiny black spread. Creating the illusion of a throne, a high-backed carved chair faced a three-paneled full-length mirror. Behind the chair, dark drapes, brocaded along the edges, covered the two windows-almost. One set had been left slightly open, accounting for the meager light in the strange room.
Bruce ushered her into the bedroom with the sweep of his arm. Hypnotically, Alma's eyes followed the arc of his arm. She started, her breath catching.
There were two men in the bedroom, a policeman wearing sun glasses and a motorcyclist, legs spread, hands planted on hips, his head thrust forward as if ready to attack with gloved, clenched fists.
Seeing the surprise on Alma's face, Bruce laughed. "How do you like the company I keep?" he asked, pleased at the deliberate deception. He went up to one figure and shook it. "They're mannequins. Frightening, aren't they?"
"Wh-what on earth ... "
Bruce went fondly to the dummy dressed as a policeman and patted it gently. Then he reached up and adjusted the cap, tilting it slightly to a more rakish angle.
"What are they for?" Alma asked when she had regained some of her composure.
"I had them made," Bruce said, ignoring her question. "That is, I had a couple of my friends help me make them up. Real looking, aren't they?"
"My God, I thought you had someone in the room with you," she said, eyeing the two dummy figures. Then she turned her attention to Bruce again. She held her hand palm up, moved it up and down in front of him. "And what's this all about?"
He grinned. "Are you shocked? It's the way I live, Alma. It's what I'm studying."
"Studying?" she asked, eyeing the two mannequins suspiciously. "What on earth can you be studying about things like that?" She had heard about fetishes, of course. She turned her gaze back to Bruce. There was a look of disgust on her face.
"Oh, don't think I'm some kind of queer nut, Alma," he said when he saw the look she gave him. "I'm studying designing. These two were a couple of my projects. Like them?"
Alma sighed in relief, her hand going to a point over her heart to feel the rapid thumping there. "For a minute I thought-"
"Yes, I know," he laughed. "That's why I always kept the door locked. I didn't want anyone to get the same idea. You see, one of my courses in school is designing. We had a choice. I chose uniforms. They say there's a wide-open field for good designers for things like this. Why, even foreign governments come here to find suitable outfits." He looked at the stern-looking motorcyclist. "I don't know who would want him. I had to do it because it was my assignment. I didn't care much about doing it, but maybe we can get some motorcycle gang to buy it. They're kind of kooky about their outfits."
"Has anyone ever seen them up here?" she asked.
He laughed a little. "No-and they're not about to, either. You can imagine the ribbing I'd take. It's bad enough saying you're a designer; people think all designers are fags, but you'd be surprised at the rugged guys going into it. We don't all have to be doctors or dentists or engineers or any of those overcrowded fields. I think it's great. I like it."
Alma looked at him, then let her eyes trail down his slim body. He was wearing pajama bottoms. But they were of some kind of thin material and she saw the dark patch of his pubic hair and was both surprised and pleased that he did not try to hide himself. She shuddered slightly, then moved through the room so he wouldn't notice. She made a pretense of examining the room, yet trying to keep him in view, either directly or through the full length mirror attached to the closet door.
"So this is what your room is like, huh?" she commented. "I always wondered what you had in here that you were so afraid for us to see."
"I'm kind of glad you came to see it, Alma. Now you know I had nothing to hide but these characters here." He swept his arm in an arc to include his two mannequins. "These aren't too bad. You should have seen them when I had to design some nurses' uniforms. I had to put padding in the front and build up the hips. Had the guys seen that ... oh, brother!"
She sensed an opening. She moved a little closer to him. In a voice she hoped carried sexual implications, she said, "I thought boys liked fooling with a girl's body."
His eyelids fluttered a little. He looked down at his feet. "Well, I ah ... it was a little embarrassing. I had the feeling that those darn things were real and that I was actually getting fresh." He looked at her and laughed boyishly. "Several times I thought I was going to get slapped."
"But you liked it, didn't you?"
"Gee, I don't know. It just made me feel kind of funny."
"Haven't you ever felt a girl? I mean, her breasts and, well, all over?"
Again he studied his feet. His right foot moved back and forth on the carpet, his big toe making circular patterns in the nap. "Well, I guess so," he said softly. "It was that Corrine Madigan." He looked up at Alma, then blurted. "But I think she wanted me to. She fell against me and wouldn't let me go."
"Did you like it?"
"Yeah ... a little."
"Did you get excited?"
"No. I got scared."
"Why?"
"Because I thought she might get sore and tell her folks."
Alma laughed. "I'm sure she wouldn't have. And I think you're right when you said she did it on purpose. She wanted you to."
He looked at her curiously, as though she had told him that his nose was too big or that she thought his eyes were too far apart. "You mean girls want guys to ... to feel them?" he asked incredulously. "I always thought they didn't."
"Oh, you poor, naive thing," Alma said, coming closer to him so she could put her arm around his shoulder. "I thought all boys knew that much about girls." She kissed him on the cheek, a light little peck. "And you said you didn't even get excited. Oh, dear!"
His body stiffened slightly as a bit of anger flared in him. "Oh, I know what goes on between boys and girls. Heck, everybody knows that."
"Haven't you ever wanted to find out how it was?"
"Yeah ... I guess so."
"Why haven't you? Don't tell me you're still a virgin."
"I-I never had the chance, I guess. Anyway, guys get in trouble when they start fooling around like that. Girls get pregnant. I wouldn't want any part of that."
"Oh, you shouldn't worry about that these days, Bruce. Haven't you heard about the pill?"
"Sure, and I've heard about diseases, too."
"Oh, for heaven's sake." Alma realized she was losing ground when he talked like that. Her own passion had even cooled some and she wondered if perhaps she shouldn't give up the idea of seducing her brother. But then she looked at his body and her heart began to beat a little faster. In his movements, slight as they were, the slit in the front of his pajama bottoms had opened slightly. Inside, she could she his limp cock nestled in the brush of his pubic hair. "Wouldn't you like to try it with a girl just to see how it feels?" she asked.
"I guess so."
She moved next to him again. She brushed her body against his, felt her warmth transmit itself to him. She fought an impulse to reach down and take hold of his cock-that might frighten him from the room! "Would you like someone to' show you how it is?"
He turned to look into her face. There was a look of mild curiosity in his eyes. "I guess so," he said bashfully. "But who? I don't know any girls like that."
"Would it make any difference to you if it was someone very close? Someone you'd known all your life?"
He scratched his head. "I can't think of anybody like that."
"Oh, Bruce, you poor, innocent thing," she laughed. "I'm talking about me." She pulled him tight against her, making sure one of her tits pressed onto his bare upper arm. "I can show you, dear. I can teach you things you should know." She kissed his cheek. "Besides, I want to ... I really do."
"But ... but you're my sister," he stammered. "That wouldn't be right, would it? I mean, brothers and sisters don't do things like that."
She put her hand on his bare chest. She rubbed it around in circles as her other hand worked the skin on his neck. She ran her hand lower on his body until her fingers touched his navel. She felt him tense a little. "Don't be afraid, honey. If I say it's all right, then you should believe me. You've got to learn about such things from someone who knows. Believe me, Bruce, I know a lot about it. Come on, let's sit on the bed." She tugged at him, but his body stiffened. "Oh, don't be so afraid. Come on, sit with me. I'm not going to hurt you."
"I-I don't know, Sis. I don't think it's right."
"I told you it was, didn't I?" She moved her hand down onto his belly and rubbed the material of his pajamas, then moved lower until she could feel his pubic hair. She wanted once again to take hold of his cock, but didn't think he was ready. She moved her hand upward again. Then she felt his body relax some and she began to move slowly toward the bed. "What a brother and sister do together is all right. No one has to know. Besides, it's no one's business what goes on behind bedroom doors." She moved her chest from side to side so that her other tit touched him, too. She put her mouth on his shoulder and nipped at the flesh. She swabbed her tongue onto the spot. "You see, if you don't learn how to do it right from the beginning, you're not going to be able to do a woman much good. That's the trouble with so many men today-they just don't know how to satisfy a woman."
His eyes turned toward her. He studied her face while his mind turned over what she had just told him. "What do you mean, satisfy a woman? I thought a guy just did it and that was that."
"You see," she said, seizing upon his sexual ignorance quickly-and happy about the opening he had just created. "I knew you wouldn't even know that much. Women have to be handled carefully. It isn't just a matter of a man poking his thing between their legs and pumping it in and out. He has to know things, like how slow or how fast to go, how deep, what really turns her on. He has to know when she's ready, whether or not she wants him to suck her titties-and when to do it."
He was sitting beside her on the bed now, his legs tightly crossed, pinching his testicles in a flesh-vise. He also had his hands over, his crotch. "I didn't think there was that much to it," he said, swallowing hard.
"Oh, there's so much to it, Bruce, that it would take me all day to tell you. But why should I tell you? I can show you a whole lot easier." She took her arms away from him for a moment to undo the belt of her robe. With a shrug of her shoulders, the garment fell away from her, exposing her from the waist up. She turned him toward her, using his shoulders for leverage. "Look at my titties, honey. Aren't they nice? Wouldn't you like to put your mouth on one and kiss it?"
Dutifully, he looked down at her exposed chest, then turned away quickly. "I-I couldn't," he said.
"Come on, do what I ask. How else are you going to learn if you don't start somewhere? Here, let me put the nipple in your mouth." She picked up one tit and held it while her other hand went around the back of his neck and tugged him to her.
He moved forward stiffly, his body unwilling to obey the dictates of his oldest sister, yet granting her wish simply because he felt he had to. He let his lips touch the nipple, but it was not a kiss. He sat stiffly, his breath gushing against her chest.
"Oh, Bruce! Please kiss it," she pleaded. "Open your lips and put the nipple in your mouth."
He opened his lips slightly. He felt the hardened knob move back and forth against his teeth. He felt a tremor go through him as he realized it was his sister he was kissing. He pulled his mouth away. "I-I don't ... want to do that," he said.
"Doesn't that make you excited?"
"No."
"Don't you just want to take those nipples in your mouth and suck on them? Wouldn't you like to feel my titties with your hands?" She reached down and pulled one of his hands free. She placed it on one breast. "There, doesn't that make you want to do a lot more?"
He hesitated for a moment. His fingers were on her breast as though testing something fragile, not moving. "Ah, no, not really."
Half exasperated, Alma asked, "Don't you feel anything, for heaven's sake?"
He nodded.
She was relieved. At least he was beginning to warm up. Maybe it was because he was so bashful that he wasn't responding to something that would have had most men crawling all over her by now. "Do you feel something strange and exciting between your legs?"
He swallowed again. "No, I still feel scared."
"Oh, for God's sake!" she exclaimed. "Bruce, you've got to feel something. You're just not normal if this doesn't excite you. Here, put both your hands on me. Feel how nice and soft and warm my titties feel." She snatched both his hands and held them tightly against her breasts. "Don't be afraid to squeeze them-they won't break." With her hands over his, she moved his palms across her nipples. Then, when he seemed to be getting the idea, she gently pulled her hands off his. He stopped immediately. "Oh, Bruce ... please don't stop, dear. That feels so good!"
Half-heartedly, he moved his hands across her breasts. The caressing motions were not what she wanted but she was pleased she had brought him along this far. Now she would concentrate on the flaccid cock being held so tightly under his crossed legs.
"Dear, why don't you relax? You sit there so stiff and tight." Her tone was soft and soothing. Her hands began to move across his legs, dancing fingers touching the material-and moving ever closer to the tight V. "Open your legs, dear. Open them so I can touch you down there. I want you to know how much fun it is to have a woman."
He obeyed, but slowly. He allowed her to pull one leg from atop the other. He breathed heavily-actually a mild snort-as her fingers probed into the slitted opening of his pajamas. All motion from him stopped when her fingers reached in and took the limp organ out.
"Mmm, you have a nice cock," she cooed. "But, oh dear, it's so soft, not even the least bit hard."
Bruce gulped. His body quivered slightly. One of his hands fell off her tit and covered hers, arresting her movement momentarily. He felt himself being pulled forward, into the soft confines of her heaving bosom as the excitement grew into wild passion in her.
She spread his legs and dug deeper between them. Now she had a hold of his balls. She toyed with them briefly, rolling them in her fingers as best as she could. Then she abandoned them for a moment to untie the string of his pajamas and strip the garment down over his hips. "Raise up, dear, so I can get these off."
"I-I think we'd better not do any more," he said.
"Don't say that," she said quickly. "You can't stop now."
"We have to stop. This isn't right."
"If it's fun, then there's nothing wrong with it. Anyway, I've gotten myself all worked up playing with you. You can't quit now."
She pushed him back on the bed and moved her upper torso atop him. "Suck my titties, honey ... please." She took one tit in her hand guided the nipple to his lips. "Suck it, baby. Suck it real nice for me." She opened his lips, using the nipple as a pry, and moved it back and forth across his wet inner lips. "Ooh, that feels so good," she sighed.
She pressed her hips to him, then adjusted herself so that her pussy was pressing against his leg. She began to make gentle fucking motions against it. She was panting heavily as she kissed his arms, his shoulders. She moved lower on him and forgot about the tit in his mouth for the moment. She licked his chest, then his stomach. She ran the tip of her tongue around in his navel.
"Alma ... you ... shouldn't," he said.
She took hold of his cock and squeezed it. Her warm fingers lifted his ball sac and pressed it against the base of his cock, which, to her utter exasperation, was still as soft as when she had started. She continued to lick his body more eagerly now as her passion rose. Now she was staring directly at his cockhead as her head rested on his belly. She extended her tongue and touched it to the tip. If there was anything that should bring a reaction from him it was this. But when she did not feel the expected twitch, she moved closer, her mouth open.
"Wh-what are you going to do?" he asked, rising slightly to look at her.
"I'm just going to suck your cock a little, baby," she said softly. She put the head of it between her lips and washed over it with a flat tongue. She pulled away. "See, isn't that nice?" She repeated the action.
"It makes me feel kind of ... funny," he said.
"Oh, I've just started. Pretty soon I'll have your nice cock so hard that you'll want to put it in my hot cunt."
"Alma!" It was an admonition.
"Yes, a nice stiff prick in a red-hot pussy-that's what you need, dear." She began to suck on his cock with more vigor now, a hungry, gulping movement that made slurping sounds in the still room. She sucked in the entire cock, then the balls. She coiled her tongue around the mass of flesh in her mouth and tried to move it in and out. Finally, when she saw that her actions were having no effect on him, she let the testicles slip out of her wet mouth. A bit of saliva drooled from her mouth and onto his curly hair. She lay panting-and wondering. Was he so scared that he had turned impotent momentarily? No man could resist such treatment unless there was something wrong with him. "Is there something wrong, dear?" she asked after a while. "Don't you ever get a hardon?"
"I don't know," he said. "Sometimes I do."
"And what do you do when it gets hard? Don't" you think about girls and think how nice it would be if you could just stick your stiff cock into one?"
"Sure, but-"
"Here I am, Bruce, all ready for you. What more do you need to get turned on? Look at this nice hairy nest between my legs. Just think how wonderful it would be if you had your cock sliding in and out of it. Think about it, dear. Get your cock hard and put it into my cunt. It's what I want. You should want it, too." She rolled over on her back and spread her legs. "Put your hand on my pussy. See if that doesn't make that stubborn old thing get hard." She smiled a little, then took his hand and put it between her legs. She manipulated his fingers until she had the middle finger free, then parted the lips of her juiced cunt and put the finger inside. Her other hand went to his spit-wetted cock.
Bruce looked at her crotch and seemed half-surprised to see his hand there. He slid his finger up and down in the wet slit several times, then stopped. "Alma, I can't," he said, sounding pained. "I just don't feel right about it."
"Bruce! Please try to fuck me," she pleaded.
"God, I need it so bad." She rammed her hips upward, trying to get more of his finger inside of her, but even though she tried to hold his hand tight _into her crotch, the pressure was minimal. "Don't fight me, dear," she pleaded. "Please don't fight me. I need you so bad. Oh, God, you don't know how I need you."
She tried a new tactic. She had heard or read somewhere that a lot of men became excited when they smelled sex, that is, smelled the pungency of the juices that came from her pussy. She flipped over and straddled him. She slid upward on him until the silky hair of her pussy was tickling his chin. She put both hands on top of his head and tried to pull her cunt onto his face.
He twisted his face to one side, grimacing. "Don't do that, Alma."
"I just want you to eat me a little."
"I don't want to. It's not normal."
That was the crux of it. Try as she did, Alma could not find satisfaction with her youngest brother. She dragged her agonized tits across his face, put the nipples between his teeth, but he was like a dead body under her. She tried sucking his cock again. His cock remained limp. Finally, she had to admit defeat; Bruce was just not going to fuck her.
And that hurt her deeply, for she had not only lost out on a good fuck session, but had lost still more of her pride.
Why did he act like that? she wondered. Was he really so different from the rest of the members of her family, those sex-obsessed brothers and father?
She couldn't believe it. They were all brought up more or less the same way, but poor dear Bruce had turned out so different.
It was a curious predicament. She just didn't know what to make of it.
And besides which, she was horny and would have liked the feel of his throbbing cock in her mouth. But he was not going to perform, that was obvious.
Oh well, she thought, there are plenty of fish in the sea, and besides, I have some other brothers who are not so squeamish.
CHAPTER 9
Alma sat before her mirror for a long time, alternately staring at herself, wondering what was happening to her, and then stroking her brush rapidly through her hair, as though the vigorous motions of the brush could ease the pained disturbance in her mind. She found anger for Bruce waning into mild curiosity, then replaced by pity. She couldn't understand why she had been unable to excite him. She wondered if maybe there was something wrong with him.
When she finally decided to go downstairs, her raging emotions had quieted some and her flushed face had returned to its normal color. Yet she could not still the urge for a man's cock that thundered about inside her. Every object, everything she looked at, seemed to grow into the shape of a man's cock. The banister, worn smooth by many sliding hands, had the feel of a tender, satiny cock-skin. The door knob had a cockhead implication to it. She walked through the room and saw the round, wooden chair legs as men's pricks, rigid, stiff-and erotic. She was in a forest of phalli, each taunting, each inviting-each making her pussy twitch and tingle with arousal.
When Bruce came down, Alma was not too surprised when he mumbled something to her, then went quickly out of the house. She had made out enough of his words to hear him say that he would return in a day or so.
"Go jack yourself off," she muttered after him when the door banged shut. "That is, if you can get a harden."
Alma remained in the house alone that entire day. Clement Borstein had called in the early afternoon. Alma went into another pit of depression when he refused her offer to come over for a drink. She had even gone out on a limb with him, adding, "Or anything else" to her invitation. If he caught it, he ignored it.
She tried to read, but the books were all dated. There were no current magazines in the house and the programs on TV bored her after an hour. She had several drinks. She paced from one room to another.
"Oh, God, what's come over me?" she called out. She clutched her hands to the side of her head and ran through the house.
It was then that an idea came to her. Quickly, she composed herself. Within a half-hour she was in a bookstore on Bird Road. Bird Books was one of those modern bookstores where the front portion was filled with rack after rack of good books, while the rear, for adults only, was crammed with erotic literature. But the reason Alma had come here was not for reading material. Bird Books also sold films, pictures, vibrators and dildoes. It was for this latter item that Alma had come here.
She waited until she was alone in the store, then approached the clerk about her purchase. In moments, she was out the door and on her way back to the house. She had wasted the entire day, but now that evening was here, her spirits lifted.
In Alma's room, there was just darkness, broken by the squared outline of a moonlit window. Outside, there was nothing but the night noises of the tropics. The surrounding area was alive with a million insects and a million tiny sounds that soothed, as best they could, the troubled mind that sought a solution. Above, the sky was studded with stars. Inside and out, it was tranquil and serene.
Next to Alma on the bed, there was an empty spot. She wished that a body of a big stud occupied the spot. She wished she didn't have to resort to the methods of satisfaction she was contemplating. She fantasized a nude male figure and unthinkingly dropped one hand onto the vacant area.
"Damn!" she swore under her breath.
She gave some thought to going out, to frequent one of the many lounges with which she was familiar, and pick up a man who would satisfy the longing in her groin. But she had been too upset over the events that had occurred in the house since her arrival. She didn't think she would be good company for any man. She had to be in the mood, totally, before she felt up to giving herself to a man, regardless of how badly her need nagged at her.
The fact that none of her brothers had remained at the house troubled her. The girls had gone out, too. All of them would be present tomorrow for the reading of the will. And that's how it had always been. None of them cared how lonely Alma was. They had used her body until they were satisfied, then had abandoned her. Bitterness overcame her momentarily.
But she would not be left alone tonight because she had seen to it that she would find satisfaction even if it was self-induced. She threw back the covers and got up. She had used her moments in bed to get her mind properly worked up so she could better do what she had planned. She went downstairs and fixed herself a drink, then another. She walked through the house and relived the scenes that came more and more vividly into her mind.
When she had finished her third drink, she went to the stairway and started up. Striding firmly, she reached the top of the stairs and went directly to her room. She dug in the drawer where she had secreted her purchase from the bookstore. She stood in front of the dresser for a moment, her pulse pounding. Then, drawing a deep, ragged breath, she took the object out of the package. She pulled out a giant rubber dildo. It was an exact duplicate of a man's cock. Eagerly, her fingers wrapped around it. Clutching it tightly, she closed her eyes and held it against her face. Then she opened her eyes and looked at it. The huge head seemed to smile back at her. She gasped as she ran one hand over the flared glans, then down the shaft. It felt almost real, only not as warm as a man's cock. She examined the bulb at the base that was shaped like a man's balls and found the plug through which warm liquid could be poured.
She went to the door and locked it, then went across the room to draw the shades. She turned on a small bedside lamp which cast a dull red glow over the room. Holding the fake cock like a suitcase handle, she went to the bathroom and filled it with hot water. By the time she was ready to squirt the water up her pussy the temperature would be just right.
When she came out of the bathroom, she stood in front of the mirror, holding the dildo in front of her. It thrilled her to see the big cock in her hands. She placed it against her titties, rubbed it across the nipples, then sunk it into the deep valley between. Slowly, she slid out of the nightie she was wearing and turned to admire her body in the mirror. She found pleasure in the way her breasts bulged from her chest. She ran her hand under one tit and put the head of the big cock against the nipple, rubbing it back and forth gently. She ran the shaft down her body, holding it flat against her stomach, then pressed it lightly onto her cunt. The balls bulb felt hot against her skin, but the heat thrilled her.
Alma became oblivious to everything now. She writhed and turned in front of the mirror, admiring her body, pressing the artificial prick to her titties, between them, alongside her face, poking the head of it into her ear briefly, making fucking motions with it toward her pussy. She bent over, her ass toward the mirror, and stuck the cock between her legs so the cockhead appeared to be moving toward her asshole. She flung her arms wide, dildo held tight, and spun around slowly in front of the glass. She was beside herself with joy that she finally had a cock to put into her aching cunt.
Her eyes held a glazed look, glistening with maddening desire as she twirled in front of the mirror, holding the cock at arm's length, then drawing it to her to kiss the rubber head and run her tongue around it. Several times she opened her mouth and brought the cockhead to it. A thrill swept through her as she watched her lips close over the glans, then away, leaving it glistening with her saliva.
"A cock, a cock," she murmured. "All mine. A nice big prick all for myself." She clutched it viciously with both hands and shook it. The big rubber tube snapped back and forth under the violent treatment. "You're mine! You're mine!" She put it behind her with one hand and ran it between her legs, watching with delight as the big head emerged from under her cunt. A tremor of ecstasy raced through her as the shaft slid against her pussy. She spread her legs so that her cunt lips opened, then moved the pink pole back and forth. When she brought it up to her titties, there was a wet streak running down its length. She sniffed it happily, running the shaft under her nose like a man sniffing a good cigar.
Her hands had begun to tremble. Her breath made a raw, rasping sound as her passion became overwhelming.
The mirror reflected her every movement and she watched every motion of her luscious, nude body and the exciting dildo with avid eyes. The light in the room was soft, making her body appear as a golden, moving statue. The big pink cock looked as real as any man's. She jiggled it to make it bounce, thrilling at the gently curved shaft with the chewed-up head.
"Ooh, you beautiful thing!" She kissed the head. "You belong to me. You're all mine. I'm going to let you fuck my sweet pussy. I'm going to let you stretch that dear thing until it hurts."
She sank to the floor with her crotch pointed toward the mirror. She spread her legs apart and looked at the reddish membranes of her inner cunt. She dropped the dildo on the floor for a moment and spread her- pussy lips as far as they would go. She raised her ass off the floor and made fucking motions toward herself in the mirror.
"Oh, God, I've got to have it in me!" she gasped. She snatched up the fake cock and put the head of it into the shining red hole, keeping her eye on the mirror so she could see the big head disappear in the soft, tender folds of her cunt. She let it hang there and stroked the smooth shaft with one hand. She gave the bulb a little squeeze and felt the hot water squirt against her cunt.
"Ooh, you naughty boy, you're too hot," she giggled.
Then she fell back on the floor and raised both legs. She reached under them, took hold of the cock, and pushed a few more inches of it inside her with a gentle, slow motion. She felt herself expand around the brutish cock, thrilling again at the thickness as it caused a pain of agonized ecstasy.
She moved it out of her an inch or so, then pushed it back inside. She coiled her body slightly so she could observe the entry of this giant cock into her twat. She licked her lips in anticipation of having it all inside her. "She jiggled the cock, sending vibrations into her inner self. The sensation was stupendous. She pushed more of it into her, then it back and forth rapidly several times.
She felt her cunt juices begin to secrete, easing the tightness of the big prick. The lubrication allowed the fake dong to slip in some more. She sighed. Her cunt held the cock like a fist.
"Now, big cock," she murmured, "fuck me." She closed her eyes and began to pump the big tube in and out of her juicy cunt. She took one hand off it and ran it into the crack of her ass. She got a finger into her asshole and felt the hardness of the giant prong as it went deep inside her. The wall must be thin, she thought. Oh, God, if she could have a man's cock in her asshole while she fucked herself with the dildo!
Now the cock was moving faster and faster, making little squeaking noises as it was pushed in and out of her wet cunt. Her pussy throbbed; she would come soon. She felt the inner nerve ends break loose with a series of twitching, vibrating contractions that made her drive the cock in and out of her with hard, driving strokes, pressing it upward to agitate her clitoris.
"Yes! Yes!" she groaned. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
She rocked backward on the floor, legs held high. Now she used both hands to plunge the rubber cock into her. She grunted from the effort. Then her legs shot into the air, two stiff poles that kicked violently and jerkily. Then her heels were on the floor, pushing against the nap of the carpet with such frantic motions her body began to move across the floor.
"Oh, God!" she called out. "Oh, my dear God!"
As the spasms lessened, she began to whimper. Then she remembered the water-filled balls. She squeezed roughly, sending a stream of hot liquid into her cunt. She could feel it burn through her. She let out a shriek as a new ecstasy gripped her. She squeezed again, moaned with pleasure as her cunt came to life again. Then she compressed the bulb completely, sending the hot stream into her pussy with the force of liquid pellets.
As quickly as she had stiffened, she went limp. The water oozed from her pussy, bubbling out around the shaft in a series of little gurgling bubbles. It ran down the crack of her ass and onto the floor. She looked in the mirror and saw the glistening streamlet drip from her. But she did not pull the cock from her. She took her hands off it and looked at her stretched cunt in the mirror. The rubber ball sac was formed into a misshapen glob of rubber that made her smile.
Her first orgasm was only the beginning. Her body felt as though it were on fire. She felt stuffed with the huge cock still in her. She worked her inner muscles and watched as her efforts forced it out of her a short way. She put her fingers around it and drew it out so that just the head was held between the lips of her pussy. The entire length of the big cock was wet with both the water she had shot into her and her own pussy juices. It glistened as though it had been varnished. She ran her finger over it and brought it to her nose where she sniffed the enticing aroma of her own cunt.
A wanton, uncontrollable sensation crashed through her. She withdrew the rubber prong with one quick movement, the sudden motion bringing a squishing noise into the otherwise quiet room. She rolled over onto her stomach, her face toward the mirror. She placed the slickened dildo on the floor in front of her and began to lick her own juices from it, washing up and down the length of it with a wide tongue. She looked at her image in the glass as she licked the wet cock. She turned it over gradually as her tongue slid up and down on it. Then, when she could no longer taste herself, she tilted the cock upward and put her mouth over the mammoth head.
"Ummmm-ummmm," she moaned as she sucked the big prick.
She got on her knees and elbows, still holding the cock up so she could suck on the head. She moved her head up and down on it, marveling at how her lips stretched when she sunk it deep into her throat. She looked at herself continually. She pulled the shaft into the ravine between her titties as she licked and sucked on the big head, pressing the ball sac against her stomach. She toyed with the artificial balls as though they were real, murmuring, groaning-slurping-then gnawing as her passion carried her to new plateaus of ecstasy.
When she had satisfied herself with this position, she rolled over onto her back and held the cock above her. "Oh, you beautiful thing," she moaned. "Ooh, I could just eat you up." She brought the head down quickly, and stuffed it back into her mouth, pushing it so deep she gagged. She squeezed the bulb, but received only a gust of air. "Oh, dear, we'll have to fill you up again, won't we?"
She went to the bathroom. She put the dildo in the sink and washed it with warm, soapy water. She was ready to go back to her spot in front of the mirror when she remembered the harness that had come with the dildo. Quickly, she went to the sack and got the harness. She carried it directly to the bathroom where she examined the structure of the toilet bowl carefully. Satisfied, she slipped the fake prick through the hole in the front of the harness, then fastened the straps around the bowl of the toilet. When she had made all the adjustments, she stood back and looked at her handiwork. Like a proud sentinel, the pink rubber cock stood straight up from the toilet lid.
She straddled it, standing on tiptoes to raise her pussy high enough so that the head of the cock barely touched the lips. Then, opening the lips of her already-expanded cunt, she began to slide down onto the pink hose. She held onto the back of the water tank as she lowered herself carefully onto the standing rubber cock. She groaned as her pussy accepted it once more.
She thought of the door that connected to the adjacent bedroom and looked quickly to see if it was locked. It was. She sighed with relief. She would be mortified if someone came through from the other room and caught her squatting over an artificial prick. She was glad she was not in the other bathroom; someone could observe her through the hole Norm and Charles had drilled through the door. This spacious room had been used by her parents when they were alive. She and the other children had always had to use the other bath then.
She sunk lower onto the cock, feeling it tear at her tender membranes. She leaned over and soaped her hands, then applied the lather to the shaft of the cock. She eased herself down again. This time it slid into her without pain. The big, water-filled ball sac lay on the toilet seat, ready to send squirts of warm water into her body. She reached down and pressed it with her index finger. A tiny spurt shot into her. She trembled. She lowered herself until she felt the swollen balls touch her pussy, held for a moment, then began a slow fucking motion on the big prick.
Now her passion was in full bloom. She rose on the slick, glistening shaft, holding her ass high, then dropped onto it in one plunging motion. She started to work faster, rising and falling on the big prick with a new urgency. She clung to the water box, fearing the lid would shift, causing a noise. Out of necessity, she had to hold her legs apart and this opened her cunt even more. She pounded up and down as though she were riding a bucking bronco, her cunt squeaking and squishing on the lathered cock.
"Oh, yes, yes, yes-ssss," she hissed. "You big stud-cock, you're all mine and I'm going to fuck you until I can't fuck anymore!" She slammed up and down as she talked to the cock. "And you're never going to get limp! You're going to stay nice and hard and stiff for me, aren't you? Yes, you are, you big, beautiful thing!"
There was no mirror in the bathroom so Alma could not watch herself fuck the dildo, but she was caught up in a rage of passion that was blurring her brain. Her eyes were wide, her lips twisting in ecstasy. She ground her hips onto the cock, pile-driving herself onto it with a reckless fury. Her internal muscles rippled with the assault.
"I love it! I love it!" she cried.
Her luscious tits jounced and quivered with her movements. The thick, log like prick stretched her slippery cunt as it glided all the way in.
"Oh, you wonderful thing!"
Now, as her motions became frantic, she bounced her cunt onto the water-filled balls. Each time she came down, she forced a squirt of warm water into her pussy. She was in a heaven of her own. The water went into her, then burbled out, slopping noisily in her sloshy cunt. It drained from her and ran onto the toilet seat, then onto the floor. She felt the wetness on her bare feet.
She was impaled on the huge staff. Her flared pussy rode over the crown of the cock in a tight, viselike ring. Her excitement was bringing her ever closer to release. She screwed wildly, and the big cock seemed to fuck her back. She jerked herself up and down in a swirling eddy of maddening passion, geysering small spurts of fluid into her sucking depths. Wonderful orgasmic waves crashed through her and her entire body seemed to be plugged into an electrical outlet.
Suddenly, she felt the lightning bolt of ecstasy shoot through her. She heaved upward, then sunk down. The bulbous cockhead seemed to throb in the slitted chamber of her cunt. She gave the bulb one final squeeze and felt the stream fill her. She shook violently.
She experienced a sense of sudden fullness from the voluptuous pressure against her intimate nerve ends.
She made a stirring motion with her ass, worked the big cock to its full limit, withdrew it slightly, only to press it back into her. Her hungry pussy was being fulfilled.
"Ohhhhh ... ohhh ... ohh ... ummmmphhh!"
God, it was wonderful!
As the last of the warm water went into her, flooding her belly, a great wave of passion clutched her. She tried to steady her body by gripping the lid of the water box tighter, but the lid slipped and Alma tumbled to one side. She stretched her arms out to keep her from falling to the floor. Now, with the cock still in her, she contorted her body so that her hands were on the floor close to one foot. She righted herself with some effort and found herself facing away from the wall, sitting on the rubber prick. She was resting her full weight on the ball sac and she felt the last of the water go into her pussy. She put her hands on her knees and waited for the last of her spasms to disappear.
There was a dull soreness in her pussy as she pulled off the cock. She turned and looked at the slightly arched phallus standing rigidly and glistening on top of the toilet seat. She slapped at it playfully.
"Naughty boy, you made me slip," she said, smiling.
She bent over and put her mouth over the rubber head. She dropped to her knees and pulled the wet shank against her titties, then moved her chest up and down so the cock, covered with soap, water and her pussy juice, slid up and down in the slippery ravine. She rose finally, and went into the bedroom where she stood before the mirror once again. As she looked at herself, she wanted to believe she had been satisfied.
The loneliness she had felt so often came back to her in a rush. There was something missing. The rubber cock had satisfied her-to a point. What was missing was the warmth of a man's body against hers, his strong arms encircling her. She missed the soft murmur of the after-fuck, the light, endearing kisses that told her she had fulfilled her duty as a woman. The strong, male fingers that sought out and fondled her nipples were not there either.
She turned to look at the rubber cock. She wanted to smile at the ridiculous sight of a stiff prick sticking up from the seat of the toilet, but she couldn't. She saw the dildo for what it was-an artificial penis. A fake. A piece of rubber.
She went into the bathroom, undid the straps that held the dildo in place, washed it, then put it back in the bag. She opened her suitcase and buried it under the clothing. Dejectedly, she went back to her lonely bed.
Tomorrow would be another day.
CHAPTER 10
"Brace, you stop that now," Corrine Madigari scolded as she sat in the front seat of Bruce's car. But her protests were the kind that were meant to be but a temporary deterrent for a boy's wandering hands. "You were never like this before."
"Maybe I was too dumb before," he said. He pulled the girl back to him and let his hand fall onto one of her firm young tits.
Corrine was a winsome girl with long dark hair and sparkling brown eyes. The word on her was that she liked nooky, although not considered an easy lay. She had to be in the right mood, the proper place, and with the right boy. Bruce fit into the niche of her requirements and he had carefully maneuvered her into the proper place. They were parked on a lonely road on the far western outskirts of Miami. The only thing left now was to get her into the proper frame of mind to submit to him. He was trying.
"What changed you?" she asked, snuggling a little closer but keeping a firm grip on his roving hands.
"Oh, I don't know," he replied. He didn't dare tell her about his oldest sister trying to rape him. She would either laugh at him for not submitting, or she would become disgusted over such perverse intentions from a member of the Carswell clan. "Maybe I finally realized I liked you a lot more than I'd thought."
"Do you like me ... really?"
"I like you a whole lot, Corrine." He pulled her firmly against him and pressed his mouth to hers. Corrine thrilled more strongly than he'd ever known her to before, although their association had never been as fervent as tonight was starting out to be. The last time, when she had brushed her titties against him, he had been afraid; now he felt more confident. He felt he knew how to turn her on now, relying on the tactics Alma had used on him.
Her arms crawled up around him, and she returned his eager, but youthful kisses. He forced his tongue between her lips and deeply into her mouth. She made a little sound in her throat, but she didn't stop kissing him.
His tongue probed and lashed into her mouth as his passion grew. His blood raced. And now his cock didn't hesitate. It began to stiffen, pressing against the material of his pants. He wanted to take her hand and put it on the hard knob, but couldn't bring himself to. Instead, he started to dig into the front of her blouse. He recalled Alma's big tits. As yet he was not thinking too strongly about the furry nest between Corrine's legs. He had to apply all his efforts to the swelling mounds on her chest first.
Corrine suddenly backed away from him, panting. She pushed against his chest.
"Hey, Corrine, don't do that."
"That's far enough, Bruce," she said, and started to pull herself across the seat.
"Enough? Heck, we're just getting started," he said, and reached out to pull her back. His body was singing an exciting sexual tune and he knew it was only a matter of time until he would be sticking his hot, stiff prong into what he imagined would be a lusciously sweet pussy.
"Stop it!" Corrine demanded, pushing his hands away.
"Hey, baby, you really put on a good show, don't you?" he laughed. "Why don't you relax so we can have some fun?"
"And why don't you cool it?" she shot. "You think you can take me for a ride and go grabbing around on me just to get what you want? No way, Brucie-boy."
He hated that. She had used the term on several previous meetings when she'd tried to antagonize him. "Knock off that crap," he snapped. He sat back, staring at her as she lay against the door, her beautiful hair covering half her face. "What are you trying to do-get me teed off?"
"Just behave."
He thought a moment before speaking. "I think you're a damn tease."
Corrine accepted that as something she should be proud of. She smiled impishly, her dark eyes twinkling. "I am not."
"Then let me feel your titties."
"You're crude. They're not what you said. They're breasts."
"Oh, excuse me, princess," he said, closing his eyes partway and dawdling his head from side to side. "Then how about letting me feel your breasts?"
"No!"
"Come on, I know what you've got under there. There's a bunch of soft flesh with a kind of a reddish ring around the middle. They're almost like mine, only bigger."
"Oh, Bruce ... honestly."
"And I know what you've got between your legs, too."
"Oh, really?" Then she got a sudden impulse. "Would you stop if I asked you to?"
"Why would you want me to stop? You want to get me all worked up while you're getting your kicks, then turn me off. That doesn't make sense."
"I didn't mean to be a tease, Bruce," she said softly. "I should have known how boys get all worked up." She reached over and patted his hand, which was lying in his lap, directly over his slightly sagging prick. He reached out to take her hand, missed, and her hand fell onto the lump in his pants. "Ooh, I'm sorry," she said quickly.
Bruce was quick. Before she could pull her hand away, he dropped atop it and held it down. "See what you've done to me? What am I supposed to do with it now?"
"I don't know. What do you usually do when it gets like that?" Her fingers twitched slightly on his cock. She felt an immediate response as her touch enlivened it to full hardness once again.
Bruce swallowed. "Will you play with it?" He was thinking how Alma had sucked on his cock. If he could get Corrine to take it out of his pants and play with it-and if he couldn't fuck her-maybe he could get her to suck it.
"Ooh, that wouldn't be nice," she said.
"Who wants to be nice at a time like this?" He pressed her hand down harder.
"Gosh, it really is hard, isn't it?" Her voice had a bit of roughness to it; her breath quickened. "Do you still want to play with my breasts?"
"Yes!" he replied eagerly.
"But that's all," she admonished. "You have to stop when I tell you."
Bruce let her move forward on the seat so he could undo the buttons of her blouse. His fingers were like so many sausages as he fumbled clumsily. When all the buttons were undone, he pushed the garment over her shoulders, then down her arms. He did this with a practiced motion, as he had done so often when he dressed and undressed his mannequins.
Corrine shivered a little. She took the blouse off her arms and laid it on the seat next to the door. Her breasts were cuddled snugly in a pink brassiere, their creamy tops bulging above the rims of the cups.
Bruce put his arms around her, cupping her breasts as he pulled her back to him. He tried to slide under the material of her bra but her titties were wedged in too tightly. He let her go and tried to undo the snap at the back.
"That's enough now," she said, and reached for her blouse.
"No ... please. I want to feel them," he said. "Let me take it off."
"You said you'd stop."
"I don't want to stop!"
Trembling slightly, she picked up her blouse and made as though to put it back on. But Bruce was having none of that. He reached around her, grasped the two sections of her bra strap and wrenched the hooks open.
If Corrine had had it in mind to tease Bruce, even if she consented to some advanced petting just to get him worked up, the idea suddenly fled from her mind as she felt her bra surge forward, leaving her titties standing free inside the slack cups. Fear grew in her as Bruce's hands slid to her front, under the bra, and grasped both satiny, springy mounds.
"Bruce! Please!" she cried, and began to struggle.
His hands were busy as he lasciviously squeezed and rolled her firm, youthful breasts. He marveled at their firmness as compared to the somewhat spongy feel of Alma's much larger tits. He felt for the nipples, found them, and tweaked them between thumb and forefinger. His eagerness overrode gentleness, depriving him of the finesse necessary to arouse her passion.
"Do you like that?" he asked. "Doesn't that feel good?" He was kneading and pinching her harshly, thinking he was building desire in her.
"You're hurting me."
"Sorry." He eased his twin grips on her tits.
Corrine seized the opportunity to twist her body around. She brought her hand around and slapped him sharply across the face. "I asked you to stop," she snapped.
"Hey, what is this? You let me take your blouse and then you won't even let me feel what you've got."
"You felt."
He held perfectly still for some moments, afraid to try to touch her tits again. That stinging sensation on the side of his face told him she meant business. Finally, he said, "Okay, I felt you-a little-now how about you doing something for me?" He took her hand and pressed it down on his cock.
"I-I think we've done enough," she said, jerking her hand away as if she had touched something hot. "You'll have to worry about that thing yourself."
"No, I want you to. Don't tell me you've never pulled a guy off before."
Corrine reddened. "No, I haven't!" she clipped.
"Well, if you -haven't, then this is a good time to learn," he told her. He undid his belt and pants button, then slid the zipper down. He reached in and pulled his throbbing prick out. He waggled it with his left hand while his right drew her hand to it.
Corrine let the hot prong touch against her hand, but did not coil her fingers around it. Nor did she recoil from it. She felt herself strangely fascinated by the satiny-smooth texture of it. She looked down at it and felt a twinge of excitement go through her. She couldn't draw her eyes away.
Bruce loosed his hold on her hand and formed her fingers into a circle around his rigidly stiff prong. When he had her properly placed, he began to move her hand up and down on it, moving the skin sheath in ever-quickening motions. He sighed. "See, just stroke it up and down like that," he said huskily.
Corrine gazed with fascination at her hand encircling his cock. It was almost as though it were a steel rod encased in soft velvet. She could feel warmth and power surging in the rampant prong of muscle.
A new sense of giddiness invaded her, and she began to stroke her hand up and down with firm, purposeful motions. Bruce groaned and groped for her titties as she pumped his rod.
"Am I doing it right?" she asked after a time.
"Yeah ... yeah."
Bruce took his hand away from her breasts, letting the released boob bounce free, and moved swiftly beneath her skirt. He went directly to the juncture of her thighs and began to paw at the crotch of her slightly moist panties.
Corrine pulled her hand off his cock. "Oh no, none of that."
He persisted. He overpowered her hand and dug at the soft mass. He tried to wriggle his finger under the leg-band but she stopped him there.
"I said-no!" she cried. "You're being awfully rough."
"Please let me." He tried to put her hand back on his throbbing cock, but she fought him off with a power that surprised him. Then he lifted his body from the seat and pushed her down on her back. With crude, rough pushings, he spread her legs and got between them. He lay on top of her, panting. "Come on, you crazy chick, let's do what we came here for."
"Get off me!"
"Aw, come on, it wouldn't be the first time, so what's the difference?" He pulled at her skirt, pushing her arms roughly aside as she tried to keep it in place over her thighs. But his body had pushed it upward enough so that the sight of her bare legs brought out the latent lust in him. He plunged his blunt-headed cock against the crotch of her panties.
"Quit it now, Bruce," she cried. "That hurts."
"Did it hurt when somebody else did it?"
"That's none of your damn business!" she snapped.
The rumors about Corrine's sexual adventures had been true to some extent. Apparently the chemistry between she and Bruce had not jelled properly tonight, for this was one of the nights when she didn't feel up to adding him to her comparatively short list of sex partners. Maybe it was the way he came on. Or was it revenge to deny him after she had, on several occasions, wanted it from him and been turned down? Of course, she had no way of knowing that he had been more naive than reluctant.
Bruce was hovering over her, trying to kiss her while he jabbed at her with his prick. He was panting and snorting more heavily. He tried to paw her panties off and managed to get his finger under the top band when he was forced to stop.
In an instinctive anger, the tigress came out in Corrine. She reached up, felt for his eyes, and rammed her thumbs into the sockets. With a gurgling groan, he released her. Then, as though a ten-story building had crashed down on her, Corrine felt his fists beating into her face.
"You little bitch!" he growled through clenched teeth. "You lay every guy in school and now you want to play the goodie-goodie bit! Well, fuck you! You're not going to get me all worked up and then tell me to buzz off. Oh, no, you hot little chick, I'm going to get mine if I have to knock you out!"
She covered her face with her hands and felt two or three more blows hammer against her hands, then a vicious backhand caught her alongside the head, then another from the other side. Bruce was like a maniac now.
"Don't ... don't ... please don't hit me anymore," she whimpered. "Please!"
"All right, I'll quit," he hissed, roughly pulling her hands away from her face. "But you're going to find out it doesn't pay to fool with me."
"Yes," she whispered through quivering lips. "Yes."
He reached down with his other hand and pulled her panties off, ripping them as he did so.
Still whimpering, Corinne relaxed into a passive state, but quaking with fear. When his hand clasped one of her breasts, she trembled even more, cringing instinctively, and shying away.
"That's better," he said.
She felt his hot breath on her breasts, his lips kissing, licking, then moving downward on her stomach, then still farther down.
Bruce slavered over her young body, recalling how Alma had wanted him to go down on her. He had refused, but it had built a curiosity in him. What was it like to put your tongue into a girl's cunt? He had never thought of it before, even though he had heard that it was done, but he could never envision himself licking around in a girl's crotch. Up until that meeting with Alma, the idea had always revolted him. But now, as his passion overcame him, the pungent inner-body aroma aroused him to such an extent that he wanted to taste her pussy.
"Ooh," she sighed, clutching at his hair, suddenly aware of what he wanted.
He moved her legs apart roughly. He did not pause to kiss her legs, but went immediately to her pussy, dropping his face into the satiny hair and licking over the entire area. Then he found the opening with an urgent, working tongue, and plunged into her warm, moist box. He was too inexperienced to know where to lick, nor did he know enough to spread the lips of her twat so that he could sink his tongue into the hole. He licked her entire genital area.
Despite her fear, Corrine found a thrill in what he was doing. She moved her hips up and down in jerky, hesitant motions. He slid his hands under her ass and raised it, his hands cupping the cheeks. She had a sudden urge to put her hands on his head, but didn't; that would show total submission.
Finally, he took his face away. He was puffing and snorting like a stallion. His face was wet from his saliva and the juice from her fresh, young cunt. He put his hand to his mouth and wiped the back of his hand across it. He reached down and took hold of his cock.
Corrine didn't know whether to fight him or not. The sting of his blows on her face made her decide it would be better to submit. The night air on her slavered crotch brought a cool sensation to the area. She put her hands over her cunt.
"No," he said quickly. "I've got to do something about this yet." He waggled his harden with his hand.
"Oh, God, Bruce, do you have to?" she asked pleadingly. "Haven't you gone far enough?"
"No," he replied. "I haven't fucked you yet."
And then he did.
Afterward, after he had apologized profusely to Corrine so she wouldn't cause any trouble, he thought about Alma and how wonderful it had been that she had aroused in him the sexual urges he had tried to keep in check. Life was going to be a lot different for him from now on.
CHAPTER 11
Norm and Chuck had been busy that day. The extra-large room they had rented at the Raleigh Hotel on Miami Beach was tingling with an electric excitement as the two brothers rushed about to complete the last arrangements before the others showed up. Norm had even seen to it that several bouquets of flowers were sent up, while Chuck had busied himself with more practical things, such as the liquor, mix and ice that would be needed for the party they had arranged. He had the foresight to order an extra bed set up so that there was now one massive expanse of bed crowding the room: two double beds had been pushed together.
"I guess we should have invited Alma and Brace." Norm said.
"What for-so they could sit around and get shocked? You know how old-fashioned Alma is. And Brace! Hell, I think he's still got his cherry."
"Yeah, probably."
Hugh was the first to show up. "I would have been here sooner but I had to service old lady Holland first. She wanted some dick just to find out if I'd had any while I was out at the house." He put his hand to his crotch, winced in mock pain. "Christ, I'm getting worn out."
"You hot-nuts bastard, you're never going to wear out," Norm kidded.
"By the way, did you?" Chuck asked.
"Did I what?" Hugh asked.
"Get any at home?"
"With who, for Christ's sake-Alma? She was the only one around when I was there and you know how she'd be if you tried to fool around with her."
"I wonder what the hell she'd do if one of us tried to get in her pants," Norm said. "God, she used to shake us up with those big tits of hers. Remember, Chuck?"
"Man, do I! You know, Hugh, Norm and I used to watch her take a bath and get our rocks off right there in the hall. We always wanted to fuck her, but I guess we were too chicken."
"Maybe we should have tried," Norm mused. "In fact, maybe one of us should have tried when we were out there."
"Bull! You want to get yourself cut out of the will, you go right ahead, Norm, old boy. She's all yours." Chuck's words were delivered with the utmost seriousness and he was sure neither of his brothers suspected that Alma had given him a blowjob.
Norm was forced to smile and turn away. He wondered if Hugh and Chuck would be shocked if he told them what had gone on between him and Alma. There was no reason for him to tell them. It could only hurt Alma. She was the head of the family now, the pillar of strength on whom everyone relied for guidance and counsel. No, he would say nothing. In her moment of weakness, she had given in to him. No doubt her conscience had troubled her enough over the years. That final session in bed with her during which he had gone down on her would be his way of giving her a thanks-for-the-pleasure gift.
Hugh busied himself by setting the glasses in place. He, too, was smiling inwardly. Ha! If they only knew! He had looked at and longed for Alma's lush, full ass all the time he was growing up. Maybe that was why Mrs. Holland had found it so easy to convert him to Greek-style fucking. Maybe Alma had inadvertently instilled the idea in him years ago, something she really couldn't help. And if that were so, why tell the others anything about it? A swirl of conscience spun in his brain and he wondered, soberly, if he may have violated something sacred. He pawed around at the glasses, moving them several times on the dresser top, simply because he felt he had to do something, the same thing that motivated old women to knit.
"Well, well, if it isn't the doll of the family," Norm exclaimed when Cora stood in the open doorway after a knock that sounded more urgent than hesitant. "Come on in."
"Hey, you're getting better looking all the time," Hugh said. "How about a drink?"
"Thanks," Cora replied. "I need one." She walked to the dresser and watched as Hugh fixed a glass for her.
"What's the matter? Have trouble tearing yourself away?" Chuck asked.
Before saying anything, Cora took several swallows from the tall glass. "God, that old house gives me the creeps," she said. Then she looked from one face to another. "I don't like to say anything, but sitting there alone with Alma can be the world's biggest drag. I think if anyone said shit in front of her, she'd faint." She put a slender finger into the light brown liquid and stirred at the ice cubes. "I think she needs a good fuck."
"We were saying the same thing," Norm said. "Who knows, though? Maybe she doesn't like men."
Yes, maybe that was right, Cora thought, recalling how expert Alma had been licking her pussy. During her numerous sex sessions with her brothers, Cora couldn't recall them ever saying they'd been to bed with Alma. She wondered if they'd even tried. And if they had, what reaction did they get? Had Alma turned them off? More than likely; that's the way she was. And yet, at no time while they were growing up did Alma ever make an overt move to her. Nor, as far as she knew, to Diane.
"Are the others coming?" Cora asked after a time.
"Clint said he'd try to make it," Chuck replied. "I don't know about Diane. Those two sort of stick together. Hell, they may even be shacked up somewhere right now."
"Like hell we are!" Clint called out as the door swung open.
"Hey, Clint! Diane! Good to see you," Norm burst out with genuine happiness.
"I'm making the drinks," Hugh called. He turned and began gurgling whiskey atop piggy-back ice cubes, pouring until the ice raised from the bottom and floated in bobbing circles at the surface. With a flourish, he added the mix.
The people in the room sensed that an invisible boundary enclosed them, the sounds of voices reverberating within and not going beyond, meant only for them, on this day and at this time. There was a subdued sensation of impending passion, impelling laughter from mildly tense throats, like pealing bells seeping through the roar of a crowd. Whatever inhibitions might have been in them were washed away in the flow of sweet-burning liquor.
They sat and drank, some on the doubled beds, others on pulled-up chairs. An hour of liquor and laughter swept time into the dim glow of the past. A pause then, a sort of breathtaking before plunging ahead into the reason for being here.
"I want to play with it," Diane said to Clint, who had sat beside her on the bed most of the time. Her hand dropped casually so that it floated tenuously over his groin, as though awaiting an affirmative signal from him. Or, from one of the others, who had all heard the remark.
"Yeah, take it out, Diane," Norm said. "Let's get going."
Clint stood up, his back to the others, and undid his pants. As they dropped down his legs, Diane reached for his shorts and pulled them over his hips. When Clint turned around, his rod stood away from his body in a low, sagging arc, half-hard.
"Yeah, man," Norm exclaimed, pointing.
"Ya-ha," said Hugh.
"Shh-hhh," Cora hushed, her eyes riveted to dint's cock.
Diane took the head and pushed the skin back and forth several times. Then, without looking away, she put her mouth over the tip. Her cheeks puffed out and her eyes bugged slightly as she stretched her lips around the fast-rising piece of meat.
"You said you wanted to play with it," Glint said as he watched his cock disappear into Diane's mouth. "You didn't say anything about sucking it."
Cora shuddered. "Oh, golly." She dug at Norm's zipper and slid it down. She dropped to her knees on the floor. She pulled his face to hers, swabbed across it several times, then drove her tongue between his lips. Her floating hand cupped his crotch and, with an intimate press of her searching hand, she emphasized the desire within her. Then her hand was inside his pants. "I want it, too," she said softly. "I've got to have it." She squeezed his cock, thinking for a moment that her own brother would allow her such liberties.
Norm found his eyes glued to Diane's sucking of Glint's cock, which had now risen to full-hard, a thick, glistening shaft that stretched Diane's lips like a tight-fitting piston ring. He shuddered when he thought his own cock would soon be sliding in and out of Cora's mouth. And he was thrilled to realize he was giving Cora something she hadn't been able to find with her husband. God, the dumb ass!
Cora sucked his cock then, taking it into her mouth in a hungry gulp that made Norm gasp. He reached under him and pulled his pants down, easing Cora's mouth off his cock long enough so that he could get his shorts off. Then he settled back to enjoy what she was doing to him.
In the meantime, Hugh was sitting in a chair watching, his eyes from one sucking mouth to the other. He got up and started to undress. "Hey, how about everybody getting those clothes off?" he called amidst the slurping, sucking sounds.
As though they had rehearsed it, the two girls stripped, reluctantly taking their wet mouths off the glistening pricks.
But Diane did not return to Glint's wet, waiting prick. Instead, she took hold of Cora's hand and led the girl to the bed where Cora sprawled backward, legs apart. As Diane dropped her face between Cora's legs, Hugh moved up behind her. He spread her ass cheeks, applied some saliva to her asshole, then poked his blunt cock at the tight pucker.
Chuck, who liked to get his cock sucked best of all, now got into the act. He slid onto the bed so that his hips were beside Cora's face. He rubbed his stiff red prick against her cheeks, then across her mouth. When Cora opened her mouth and reached for his cock with her tongue, he pulled it away, teasing her. "Come after the meat, baby-doll. Reach for it," he said. He wiggled his cock enticingly in front of her face.
There was some space between Diane's thighs and the bed and Norm wriggled his body into it so he could get his face into her crotch. He slavered his wet tongue up her inner legs, licking and washing her gently. Then he spread her legs. He saw Hugh's slippery cock slipping in and out of her asshole. Adjusting himself so that he could bury her face in Diane's warm cunt, he began to run his tongue in and out of the moist slit.
"Oooohhhh," Diane sighed.
"You have such a beautiful cunt. Such nice hair," Norm said softly. "You make me hungry for it. I want to eat it. I want to bury my face in it."
"Do it, lover."
"Make me do it," Norm said.
Diane put her hands on the back of Norm's head and pulled his face tight into her crotch. Then she moved her hips, still being fucked in the ass by Hugh, and drove her hairy box into Norm's protruding tongue.
Norm reached up and opened the lips of her twat. Her inner membranes now lay open and exposed, the hair moist, glistening with the saliva he had smeared there moments before. "Hey, I'm out of it," Glint complained. He was kneeling on the bed, holding his cock in one hand, looking for an opening in the connected bodies.
"Over here," Cora said, turning away from Chuck's teasing prick for a moment. "He won't let me have it."
"O-kay, baby," Clint said, and moved beside her with his cock pointed at her waiting mouth.
Cora took his cock into her mouth in one gulp, her eyes closing in the ecstasy of the moment. Then, when Chuck poked the blunt end of his hard prong against the back of her neck, she turned and engulfed it. She sucked it a few seconds, then returned to Glint's rod. She quickly went from one to the other, sucking hungrily.
Diane still had her face buried in Cora's box, breathing her hot breath into the hair. She put her nose in the opening and sniffed heavily. "Oh, your pussy smells so sweet," she sighed. She moved her nose around in the hair, brushing the fuzz sideways, then back again. "A cunt ... a beautiful cunt," she murmured. "You have such a lovely, sweet cunt!"
"Ummhmmmmm," Cora sighed between sucks on the two cocks.
Hugh, who was driving in and out of Diane's ass, was the first to feel the twinge of electricity for an early orgasm. He groaned, gripped the cheeks of Diane's rear, and drove forward. Underneath, his balls slapped against Norm's chin as Norm tried to suck Diane's clitoris to make her orgasm coincide with Hugh's.
Cora sucked harder, quickly going from Glint's cock to Chuck's, while both of them jacked themselves off rapidly in between.
"Hold off, Hugh," Chuck grimaced. "Just a few seconds yet."
Diane had taken Cora's swollen clitoris between her teeth and was alternately biting and sucking on it, lashing at it with her tongue, snorting and bobbing as Hugh drove his slick, heavy shaft up her ass.
The six perspiring figures seemed to swirl in one enormous, plunging, moisture-squeaking mass of flesh.
Because Hugh had been in a half-standing position, he was the first to withdraw his cock, and when he did, he left a burbling glob of semen oozing from Diane's asshole.
Diane had collapsed atop Cora. She lay panting into the girl's wet, shining pubic hair. Norm lay under her, looking up into the hole he had just licked. Chuck and Clint had fallen onto their backs after jointly squirting their hot liquids into, onto and around Cora's mouth. Cora gagged and swallowed, then wiped the remainder of the sticky goo from her face with her fingers. She lay with her eyes closed, breathing with a heaviness that made Diane's head rise and fall.
Hugh crawled across the floor and stood up only when he came to the dresser. He made a drink for himself. "Anybody for booze?" he called out.
"Make me a double," Norm replied. He crawled out from under Diane and went to the dresser. "Whew, the first one was a lulu," he sighed as he waited for take his drink.
Multi-keyed laughter erupted in unison, like a fire-bursting sky rocket scattering a diffusion of burning sparks into the room as the giddiness of their wanton behavior swept over them. Over the broken noises came the tinkle of ice being tumbled into glasses, then the call for drinks, the temporary recess for the recharging of sexual batteries.
"I never did two at one time," Cora said softly. "Imagine! Two cocks to suck at the same time! Wow!"
"Yeah, and I'll bet you wished you had three," Norm said.
"Or four," Diane put in.
"Oh, Diane, I'm not the pig about sex like you are," Cora retorted.
"Hey, that gives me an idea," Hugh said. "Why don't we see if you can take all four of us?"
Cora thought a moment. "Can you do that?" she asked.
"I saw it done once," Norm said, sounding pompous. "It was in one of those shows they put on at stag parties. The girl had four cocks in her at one time."
"Oh, come on, Norm," Chuck said. "Where the hell do they put them?"
"All right, wise guy, let me show you how they did it," Norm said, now sounding slightly hurt that there was not total belief in what he had told them. "You want to try it, Cora?"
Cora shrugged, then frowned. "It won't hurt, will it?" She looked down at the array of semi-hard cocks around her, already aware that one of them would have to go into her rear end. "I mean, not too bad."
"Come on, Norm, show us," Chuck said.
And now, with that interlude of his life where he would once again be the most important member of the group taking shape, Norm stepped proudly to the bed and motioned for Chuck to come near. "You're doing all the talking, Chuckie, my boy, so we'll let you have the first position. Lie down on your back." When Chuck had obeyed his older brother's order, Norm looked down at him and frowned. "You better get that rod of yours up or you won't be worth a shit."
"I'll help him," Diane said quickly. She threw herself on the bed and took hold of Chuck's cock. She stroked the half-limp organ a few times, then put the head of it in her mouth. She sucked on it until Norm gave the okay that it was hard enough.
Norm turned to Cora. "All right, little one, now you get on top of Chuck, face down."
Cora did as she was told, straddling Chuck and easing her open pussy onto his thick, moistened prick. She sunk down on it until it had disappeared into the nest of hair between her legs. "Ooh, this is nice," she sighed. "I'd just as soon forget about the rest of it." She began to pump her ass up and down slowly.
"Hey, none of that," Norm scolded kiddingly. "You've got a lot more cock to take into you yet." He turned to Hugh. "You're the dirt-road expert. It's your turn now." He looked at Hugh's thick cock, then at Cora's tight asshole. "Take it easy or you'll split her all the way up her back."
"I came prepared," Hugh laughed. "I've learned to do that since I started working for Mrs. Holland." He went to his clothes and brought a jar. He held it up. "Koromex jelly," he said. "It's the best buggering lubricant made. I could ream her a little with my tongue first but I think this would be better." He knelt on the bed behind Cora's ass and spread her cheeks. "My, my what a tight little thing that is. A real smiling rosebud." He dipped his fingers into the jar, then applied the jelly liberally to the puckered hole in the valley of Cora's ass ...
"Raise your ass a little more," Norm ordered, peering carefully at her position. When Cora's ass hunched up, Norm nodded to Hugh who was waiting, cock in hand, behind the split moons of flesh.
"Be careful, Hugh," Cora said over her shoulder. "I haven't done it much that way."
Hugh moved forward and touched the head of his cock to her ass. He held for a moment, then eased forward. The tight sphincter held. Hugh pushed harder. The drawstring gave, and he slid his cock into the taut ring of her rectum.
"Ooh-ohhh," Cora grunted. "Easy."
The trio on the bed held perfectly still for some time before Cora's tight asshole loosened enough for Hugh to begin moving in and out of it. Then Cora took up the tempo and although she winced whenever Hugh drove deep into her, she seemed to be enjoying having two cocks in her. With her movements against Hugh's prick, she also moved her pussy up and down on Chuck's swollen rod.
Diane sat on the edge of the bed and observed this scene with marked curiosity. Drink in hand, she bent forward occasionally to watch Chuck's prong enter Cora from the front, then she would bend the other way so that she could see the exciting action of Hugh's cock in the girl's stretched asshole. And while she observed Hugh's cock, she could catch a glimpse of Chuck's lower shaft and balls as Cora rose off him momentarily.
Norm had a proud look on his face. Thus far, the act had been quite successful. He, too, moved back and forth to note how the two cocks were sliding in and out of his sister. Then he motioned for Glint to get onto the bed and get into the same position beside Cora's head that he had had before. "Get up there so she can suck on it," he ordered. "You and I will have to lay side by side so we can both get our dicks in her mouth at the same time." Then he crawled onto the bed and lay down, turning sideways toward Glint until the heads of their cocks met.
Cora didn't need any prompting. When she saw the two bulbous heads, she moved her body to one side and dropped her mouth onto them. But even though she opened her mouth as wide as she could, she found she could not take both cocks into her at the same time.
"I can't do it," she complained. "You're both too big."
"Open your mouth as wide as you can," Norm said. "Then put your fingers into the sides and open your lips up."
Cora tried it, pulling her mouth out and to one side so that there was a much larger cavern in which to insert the two cocks. She moved lower, still holding herself open, and draped the stretched skin over the twin heads.
Then the bed began to rock as the distorted octopus of flesh writhed in an ecstatic orgy of pleasure. Back and forth, up and down, membrane against nerve-tingling membrane, wet noises merging, the joined bodies moved in a tempo that could have been one. And finally, the flesh-animal groaned and worked itself into a simultaneous orgasm, a fantastic explosion that brought a sheen of perspiration onto the slick skin of the creature captured by ecstatic fulfillment.
Then the panting flesh-machine fell apart and each body lay in panting, low-moaning agonies of pleasure.
It was over.
"God, if Alma could see us now," Cora said after a long time.
"Hell, she'd probably die right on the spot," Diane laughed. "I don't think she knows what sex is all about."
"Poor thing," Cora added wistfully.
Then they all laughed, but each for a different reason. There was a heavy tone of irony in the burst of laughter that came from the group, building slowly into a kind of hysterical thing as each mind traveled back over the events of the past. Only Glint and Diane laughed because of a genuine amusement over what they thought was Alma's plight.
And later, during the passing hours of the night, there was once again the sound of passionate love.
Alma, though, was not as bad off as they ironically thought. She was never lacking for sex, and if the need came over her for a big, thick cock, she had some mystical, mysterious way of finding one, all stiff and ready to be sucked and sat, upon.
They laughed, though, and fucked, making fun of the woman who could teach them all a few tricks. The woman whose original philosophy let her go through life with a perpetually clear conscience.
Something Cora was beginning to learn to develop. With Alma's help.
All through the night there was sweaty, muscular lovemaking, everyone screaming into the silent night with the pleasure, the exquisite pleasure of orgasm.
It was quite a night, one unlike any other for dear Cora.
CHAPTER 12
The long-awaited Friday morning had arrived. Along with it, the members of the Carswell family trickled in. It was a relief to Alma to have them all together again, yet she felt a twinge of sadness, for this might be the last time they would all be gathered in one group. Surely, it was the last time they would be united in this house; the house was to be sold as soon as the will was read.
The Carswells sat in the living room, chatting amiably. Occasionally, one or two would saunter to the kitchen for coffee, another would go to the door and peer out for a sign of the lawyer, Clement Borstein, to show up. Although they were in good spirits, there was an underlying impatience that erupted several times when one of them would comment that they wished the lawyer would show up.
It was noon when the phone rang.
Alma talked to the party on the other end, her frown increasing as the conversation went on. When she put the phone back in the cradle, she turned to the attentive group and announced that Mr. Borstein would not be able to show up until Saturday. The time of the family meeting was set for two o'clock.
"What the hell is this?" Norm demanded. "It was all set for today. I arranged my schedule so I'd be back at work tomorrow. I've got some big accounts to see and the only time I can call on them is Saturday. Damn!"
There was a general mumbling from the others. They rose, one by one, and milled about. Then, just as they had done before, they started to leave. Only Brace remained behind.
"This would be a good time to get your things out of your room," Alma said. "That is, if you don't want the others to see them."
"I was thinking of doing that after we find out how the will comes out," he said. He looked around the old-fashioned living room. "I'm sure going to miss this old place, even if it is like a museum."
"That's what I like about it," Alma said. "It's kind of refreshing to see quality workmanship. Today, everything looks so cheap."
"Mass production."
Alma looked at her youngest brother with a studied gaze. "Brace, I'm sorry about ... well, you know ... " She swung her head upward to indicate the incident in his room. "I don't know what came over me."
"Don't worry about it. I haven't. In fact, maybe I learned something from it. Let's just forget it, huh?"
"Thanks, Brace, but I'm still sorry it happened."
"I'll see you tomorrow, Sis," Brace said at the door. "I'd like to stay with you but I have some things to do."
Alma closed the door behind him. She bit back the tears as the loneliness crowded her brain once again. She had had a few words with Cora, but wanted to talk to her some more. Now she was gone again. A few questions had come up regarding Diane, but Diane had hurried away with Glint.
Alma spent the next hour looking over the old house. She went outside and walked through the yard. It was a beautiful warm day. Distant clouds moved through the sky like fluffy ships on a leisurely cruise. The sky was an ocean of blue.
As she stood in the kitchen, mixing a drink, a knock sounded on the front door.
Alma casually finished mixing her drink. Probably some salesman, she thought. If he went away-good.
Clement Borstein stood in the doorway, a large, broad-shouldered man with a smiling face and deep brown eyes twinkling with friendliness.
"Well, for heaven's sake," Alma said. "What are you doing here now? The rest of the family left when you called and said you couldn't be here today."
"Oh, I'm not here on business," he said. "I was on my way to see a party and thought I could grab a few minutes to talk to you. I'm glad I found you in."
"Yes, I'm always here," she said wryly. "Come in."
When the smiling lawyer moved past her into the living room, Alma noticed his eyes trail over her body. She was accustomed to having men stare at her. Her large, firm tits normally drew first attention, then her well-formed, curvaceous hips and ass.
"You're here alone?" he asked, looking around.
"Yes. It seems everyone else had something more important to do than sit and talk with me."
He met her stare with the directness of his own. He put his hand on her shoulder. "Maybe I can spare more than a few minutes with you," he said. "I know how it is to be left alone."
"Oh, it isn't that bad," she said, "but I haven't seen some of them for some time. I just thought they'd like to visit a little. I was having a drink. Can I fix you one?"
He nodded. "Sounds like a good idea. A double on the rocks if you don't mind. I've had a hectic day so far."
Alma's eyebrows raised. She smiled. But the smile was a result of what she felt inside herself rather than for what he had said. She went to the kitchen and fixed a drink, then returned to take a seat on the opposite end of the couch from him. She crossed her legs. The pendulum motion of her shapely leg drew his eyes to it.
"You're quite an attractive woman," he said. He seemed to direct his words at the swinging leg, then at her luscious breasts. "And please don't think I'm merely flattering you to make you feel good. Rest assured that my comment was made in all sincerity."
"I'm sure it was, Mr. Borstein," she smiled. "Thank you."
They chatted for a time. Borstein's eyes went continually to Alma's chest as he sipped his drink. Alma was aware that he was appraising her. Her body tingled slightly when she realized she was alone with a man. There was no fear that any of the others would return. Was this the opportunity she had been waiting for?
She watched him as he finished the last of his drink. She was on her feet immediately to take the glass from his hand. "You have time for another, of course," she said. She marched off to the kitchen without waiting for a reply.
"I shouldn't," he said, when she handed him a fresh drink. He turned the glass slowly in his hand. "But I don't want to be inhospitable." He took a quick sip. "Especially with such lovely company."
"Now you're being a flatterer," she laughed.
She had seen the look of desire in his deep eyes. She adjusted her body so that her breasts stood out even more prominently than before, and made sure her short skirt bared more of her shapely legs. She knew little about the man. He had been retained by her mother over the years and Alma had seen him only briefly in regard to some minor business matters.
He rose and crossed the space which separated them. He placed one hand on her shoulder and squeezed his fingers into the soft flesh. He stared down at the rounded fullness of her breasts. His face appeared slightly flushed.
"A lovely woman like you should never have to be alone," he said huskily. "I can see in your eyes that you're very lonely." His fingers kneaded the smooth skin of her shoulder, then inched to her neck.
"I didn't know it showed," she replied.
Leaning down to her, he kissed her lightly on the cheek. The hand dropped immediately onto the swollen curve of her left tit.
"Is that in the line of duty?" Alma asked, smiling.
He didn't answer. He leaned over her suddenly. He put his arms around her and his mouth found hers, pressing ruthlessly against her lips. His teeth ground down hard, bruising the softness. Her titties throbbed and burned under the hard grip of his strong fingers.
It was both strange and sweet to be kissed by this man, Alma thought as a tingling sensation shot through her. For a moment, her tongue responded and she spread her lips to give his tongue entrance.
"We could do something about that loneliness," he said.
When Alma did not answer, he lifted her from the divan and held her in his arms. He looked at her face. Her eyes were closed, giving her an innocent, angelic look. He kissed her eyelids.
"What are you going to do with now?" she asked, fluttering her eyelids. "I feel like a bride about to be carried over the threshold."
"And I hope with the same end result." He looked about him, saw the stairway, and started up with her.
"Ooh, this is so romantic," she said lightly.
"You have no objections?"
"When I start clawing your eyes out, you'll know what my feelings are."
He winced in mock agony. At the top of the stairs, he stopped and looked around. "Which room?" he asked.
"Which room for what?"
He put his face against hers so that his lips were on her ear. "You know what you want to do," he whispered. He kissed her ear. "Show me which room is yours."
"You don't believe in wasting time, do you?"
"I don't have the time to waste," he said. "Which way?"
She pointed to her room.
He carried her into the room, set her down, and locked the door. His hands were strong and sure. His kiss had awakened the desire in her. She felt his strong body against hers, felt the hard lump that had grown in his pants. She pushed herself against him and felt his immediate nudge of response.
Alma felt herself being picked up once again. This time he deposited her on the bed. She lay still, looking up at him. She let his hands seek the warmth and softness of her body. She did not object when he began to undo her clothing; she had waited too long for a man to stop now. The fires of passion roared silently in her body. Without a word or a caress, she let him remove her clothing.
Borstein gasped as he knelt over her and took in the full magnificence of her luscious body. He dipped his head to one tit and kissed it, then raised slightly to look at the black puff of hair over her pussy.
"You're even more beautiful like this," he said hoarsely.
His hands slowed a moment when she didn't readily respond to his caresses, but the cravings that ripped through her didn't allow her to hold back. She flung her arms around him and kissed him. Her body erupted into sudden flame. She wanted this big man above all else. She wanted to take his cock out and hold it, maybe suck it for him. Sensations tore at her and lashed her like little whips. His teeth were hard and demanding. He was trembling, whimpering a bit as his own passions engulfed him.
Then he pushed himself away from her. He stood up, undid his clothes, and crawled onto the bed with her. His weight was ruthless and cruel and spreading. His hands were like talons, pulling and pressing and domineering, as she suddenly wanted them to be.
She denied him the thrust of her lips, making him take and ravage and ravish, turning him into a marauding beast, destroying as he took.
Then he was clutching her and gasping. His big prick was pressed against her. There was nothing else in the world for Alma now but his hot, throbbing cock. It stood out hugely from his body as he moved away from her slightly. It stared at her with its slitted eye. Instinctively, her hands went to it and took it, holding the soft skin with the love she had always had for a man's prick. She raised up slightly and stroked it. She looked at it. She saw the folds of skin slide over the head. She pulled the skin back as far as it would go and saw the deep cleft behind the glans. The head appeared as large as a plum, pleading to be loved.
He moved his body farther away. He looked down at her and said softly, "Take it."
Alma moved to it, powerless to resist. She felt her lips open and she pulled the mammoth bulb to her. She tasted it, tasted its head and its firm, round base. She went to the underside with her tongue and licked upward until the head lay on her lips. She licked at the drop of love juice that had suddenly emerged there. Then she opened her mouth wide and let the head inside. She held his balls as the knob went into her mouth and when she had absorbed enough, she pulled on his ball sac to ease him away.
He was on his hands and knees, kneeling over her. He moved forward so his huge cock was driving into her mouth. His balls lay on her forehead as he pulled his prick out and smeared it across her face. He put the head of it, wet now, on her eyelids and rubbed back and forth lightly. He laid the hot shaft alongside her face, the head of it in her ear, and moved back and forth as though fucking her ear. She took his balls into her mouth, sucked the hairy sac, rolled the orbs around in her mouth as her tongue went partway up the crack of his ass.
He made urgent motions, grunting and moaning.
"Take it ... take it ... suck it!"
"Ummmhmmm," she groaned. She couldn't help herself. She wanted him to shoot his hot come into her mouth.
He groaned and drove deep into her throat, gagging her. He moved away, but his hips would not be still and he pumped them quickly up and down as the head of his cock expanded. She felt him quiver. She waited then, holding the swollen cockhead between her lips, waiting for the hot bath of love juice from his cock.
It came. It was a raging torrent, spilling from the bulbous head in giant gushes that filled her mouth and spilled out to run down the side of her face.
"Ohhhhh ... arrrrhhhhh," he groaned.
She sucked on his cock with a furious, hungry movement that made him wince. She wanted to drain every drop from him. He had been the aggressor and that's what she had wanted. She would suck the strength from him, then leave him panting and gasping while he recharged himself and came to her again.
Then finally there was no more. She had to take his cock out of her mouth so she could swallow the hot come he had squirted into her. She pushed on his belly to get him off her face. The big, slippery prick slipped out of her lips and she swallowed. She tried to wipe the rest of it away with her hand but only smeared it across her face.
"God! "he said.
He lay with his face pressed into the pillow, panting. His cock drooled onto the sheet.
She reached out and took the corner of the sheet and wiped the cooling semen off her face. He stirred then, and looked at her as though seeing her for the first time.
"That was something," he said. He looked down at his sagging prick and shook his head. "You sure took the fight out of that thing."
"It'll come back," she told him. "They always do."
He smiled wryly. "I'm going to be late for my appointment."
She snuggled against him. "Isn't it worth it?" She felt for his dick, played with the slippery organ for several moments. It began to get hard again.
He got between her legs, took hold of his cock, and pointed it at her waiting pussy. He opened her lips and snuggled the head of it in. Then, ever so slowly, he sunk the hot, slickened shaft into her equally hot cunt, the big prick stretching the elastic bands of her pussy almost as much as the dildo had. After what seemed like miles of hot cock being buried in her, Alma could feel the head of it hit somewhere inside of her.
"Fuck me!" she cried. "Fuck me!" The words sounded good to her, delicious.
Borstein pushed, and his big cock surged hard against the final limits of her vagina, stretching the sides of the hot channel voluptuously.
Alma adjusted her body under him, throwing her legs as far to the side as they would go. She rolled her ass, gently rotating her prick-packed pussy, causing his bulging cock to rub against all the nerve ends in her cunt walls. Then she began to raise and lower her ass as he began the fucking strokes to coincide with the slow tempo she had set.
"Kiss my titties," she hissed. "Suck them."
"That's one thing I love to do."
She kept grinding her cunt, reveling in the heavenly sensations the big cock transmitted through her body. He pulled one of her titties to his lips, took a wet swipe across the jutting pink nipple, then opened his mouth and sucked on as much of the tit as he could get into his mouth.
Alma smiled in wanton satisfaction as he mouthed her tits and slid his hands over her body, caressing the soft flesh of her thighs, then moving upward to hold a tit while he sucked it. He heard her suck in her breath swiftly, her body heaving when his fingers passed her swollen tits and danced over the wet nipples. He felt their hardness, felt her ass toss and turn under him as he slammed his big, stiff prick into her well-juiced cunt.
The sexual frenzy in her burst forth. Her body came alive beneath his touch, surging, quivering, throbbing against him. Her hands roved his body, lingering on his legs, reaching under him to hold his balls, purposely forcing him against her.
He slowed his motions suddenly. "Wait ... wait," he panted. "You're going to make me pop if you keep that up." Then he hunched his hips backwards and drew his slippery cock from her yawning cunt.
But Alma was more eager for cock than ever. She spread her legs farther apart and hunched her hips upward. Her pussy awaited eagerly. Droplets of pussy juice melted from it, tiny beads that hung on the hairs and glistened in the dim light.
She took the soft mushroom head and pointed it toward her open cunt. She gripped it tightly and moved it into the soft folds. She smothered the head in the wet hair of her pussy, sinking it into the squishy pudding in a gesture of singular purpose.
This time when the big cockhead came into her, it suddenly became alive. It surged into her, burrowing its way in the most urgent of missions.
Her body leaped. Her hips moved farther upward in anticipation. Her pussy poured more juice, lubricating the love channel until there was a steady dripping of cunt-drool from the soft, warm box. She felt the slithering cock searing into her inner flesh, setting her impassioned loins aflame with new desire. She trembled with the glory of absorbing so much cock. She was sucking it up in an agony of ecstasy. There was glory in the mild pain as he stretched her pussy. She was gorged on male prick. Full. Stuffed.
The panting lawyer slammed his big cock into Alma's lathered pussy. He pressed against her, trying to hold her still. When he saw that was impossible, he fucked her with harder, more rapid strokes.
The bed groaned and squeaked beneath the fucking couple. Alma's excitement was reaching its limits with her partner's thrusting rapier of hot flesh, the hot, stiff prick she had waited for so long. She clutched at his slippery back. She moaned as though in agony.
Suddenly Borstein let out a low groan, and his prick twitched deep inside her. A hot spurt squirted into Alma's cunt.
"Oh, yes. Yes!" she cried as the scorching fluid spewed into her. "Oh, God!"
"Uhhh!" he grunted explosively.
As the hot juice boiled from him, flooding her belly like molten lava, a giant thrust drove him forward.
Her pussy muscles tightened as the heat burned through her body, her breasts expanding and pressing upward with the arch of her chest as she sought more contact with his body.
As his hip motions slowed, his arms collapsed, throwing all his weight onto her. He lay panting for several moments, then moved off her, dragging his wet cock across her leg as his body toppled to one side.
After a while, he said, "I've got to get up." He heaved his big body off the bed and started for the bathroom.
"Are you leaving?" she asked.
"Not yet."
Alma lay on the bed and waited for him to return.
Then he was lumbering in from the bathroom, his cock drooping in an arc in front of him. He came to the side of the bed and looked down at Alma. Then, without a word, he reached down and pulled her legs off the side of the bed.
"There, that's better," he muttered, as though to himself.
He got to his knees and immediately took hold of Alma's feet. He held one in each hand. He ran his lips over the tender skin on the tops, then kissed her toes, dabbling his tongue onto them in quick little strokes that sent chills up her back. He came over her arches, going from one foot to the other, kissing the skin. He kissed her knees and the soft skin behind them. His breath was hot on her flesh. Then he moved upward, sliding his flat tongue over her skin until he had reached her pussy. She felt his tongue dabbing at it.
"I like the way you smell," he mumbled.
"There's some of you in there."
"You taste good, too."
He pressed tight against her. He took the cheeks of her ass in his hands and buried his face in her sweet, tangy cunt. His tongue was a demanding prong, hot and wet, burrowing into her. His fingers massaged the soft flesh of her ass.
He licked the lips of her pussy. He took the cheeks of her ass in his hands in a tighter grip and rotated her entire midsection around while he held his tongue rigidly in her pussy. He raised her up so that her asshole was against his chin. He lowered his face to it. His tongue was a probing rapier as it sought the taut rosebud. He dug at it, adding more spit to allow entrance.
Alma was bent almost in half now, her arms wrapped around her legs so that she could tilt backward on the bed and expose both of her holes to him. Then she groaned as his saliva-laden tongue slipped into the tight crevice.
"Ohhh," she groaned.
Then he moaned. He took his tongue out of her and went back to her cunt. He took her clitoris in his lips and sucked it gently. He ran his tongue around in tiny half-circles around the little knob, sending more shivers through her.
Then, with a quick motion that surprised Alma, he slid over her belly and crushed his lips to hers. His tongue pried between her lips. The taste of her asshole, her pussy and his saliva was a strong, heady flavor that made her whole body tremble.
When she had licked his tongue and washed across his face, she put one hand on his head and pushed him toward her cunt again. She raised her hips and began a slow movement with her pussy against his face. She would alternately bury his nose in the soft tissue at the bottom, then feel his teeth press into her pubic pad. She took hold of his head and moved it about, making her hips move in circles with his head going the opposite way.
"I'm ... I'm coming," she groaned hoarsely.
"Ummmmhmmmm," he murmured in reply.
He lapped furiously now, going from the very bottom of her cunt to the top. His tongue lay flat, wide and wet against the soft membrane. More pussy juice flowed from her.
"Oh, yes-s, yes-s," she hissed. "Suck my cunt, baby. Oh, yes-ssss!"
"Ummhmm."
She saw stars and rockets and heard the deep growl of thunder as the ecstasy crashed through her brain. Then it seemed to turn into a roar. She held the lawyer's head and wrapped her legs around it. Her heels were on the back of his head, pulling him into her well-slobbered cunt with all her might.
Then, before he would smother to death in the depths of her pulsating cunt, she released him and fell to one side on the bed.
"Oh, my God ... my God," she moaned.
He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. His entire face was wet from being buried in her cunt.
"Oh, God, that was beautiful," she sighed.
He crawled up on the bed and lay beside her. His entire face reeked with the pungent odor of sex. His body was covered with perspiration.
"I have an appointment, Alma, but I plan on seeing a lot more of you after today."
"But I won't be here after tomorrow," she said. "As soon as we settle everything with the estate I'll be on my way."
He smiled broadly. "Oh, I think you'll be around awhile," he said. "You and I are going to see a great deal of each other."
She looked at him quizzically. "Your ego is showing, Mr. Borstein. Do you think I'm going to hang around Miami just to be your playmate? No way-I've got a home."
He got up from the bed and started putting his clothes on. "We'll see," he smiled. He finished dressing, went to the bathroom and combed his hair after he had rinsed his face in warm water. And all the while he was going through this ritual, Alma remained on the bed, puzzled.
Then, after he had closed the door behind him, she muttered, "Damn egotist."
But she was pleased. At least she had been fucked.
CHAPTER 13
Once again, the family had assembled for the delayed reading of the will. Clement Borstein, looking dapper in a dark business suit, greeted the Cars-well clan with reserved cordiality.
He began the meeting shortly after he arrived. "The estate amassed by your parents, although not large by some standards, is, nevertheless, substantial." He was seated at a table that had been set up especially for him. On it were his open brief case, an ashtray, some loose papers, and a glass of water. "The entire estate has been left to the eight of you. Before I begin reading the will, which details to whom and in what amounts the estate has been left, are there any questions?"
Eight heads turned like pivoting puppets, shoulders rose in slight shrugs. The members of the family, seated casually in front of the table, looked at one another with mildly puzzled looks.
"No questions?" Borstein asked. "Good." He opened his case and withdrew a folder. From it, he took out a folded set of legal-sized papers. "Copies of the will will be given to each one of you at the close of this meeting. If everyone is ready, I'd like to read the contents of the will as set down by your parents, Thomas and Carlina Carswell.
"Many of the small personal items have already been passed on to you. Therefore, I will skip over that portion and go directly to the individuals." He took a moment for a sip of water. As he did so, his eyes met Alma's. An instant message shot across the invisible telegraph wire between them, a look of recognition igniting the embers of passion that still smoldered from yesterday. "As you know, Alma Carswell has been appointed executrix over the estate. However, I must inform you that everything set forth in this document was duly sworn before me. If questions arise, Alma has the authority to preside over them, but these questions would almost certainly be of a minor nature. The major distribution of the estate has already been made in these papers." He held up the papers briefly. "Also, I must caution you that Alma Carswell has in no way been involved in the instrumentation of these papers. If the recipients are not completely satisfied with what has been set forth in the terms of the will, they are to consult me prior to any discussion with the executrix. Is that clear?"
Eight heads nodded.
Borstein studied the eight faces, then turned to the papers in his hand. "I will lump these together because the wording is precisely the same. 'To the members of our family, we, Thomas and Carlina Carswell, bequeath the sums as set next to their respective names.' "
Norman smiled and sat back in his chair. Well, that was settled, he thought-everyone was getting the same amount. The will had worried him. His extra-marital escapades had cost him dearly. He could use the money to pay some of his bills. Then there was that pregnant girl ...
Charles relaxed. Things had not been going as well as he had told everyone. The extra cash would come in handy. His shop needed improvements, and his creditors were breathing down his neck.
Hugh breathed a heavy sigh of relief. The salary paid him by Mrs. Holland wasn't nearly enough for him to do what he wanted to do. Maybe now he could take some time off and travel. The old broad was wearing him out.
Cora felt a thrill go through her. With the money from the estate, she could afford to be independent. If her husband didn't want to change his views on sex, well, there were a lot of other men around who might like the things she craved. With a new wardrobe, some beauty treatments ...
Clint gloated inwardly. To hell with being broke all the time. Now he could be a big wheel on campus, maybe buy that sportscar he had always wanted.
Diane sat looking at her hands. She realized when Clint got his hands on some money he wouldn't be around to take her to bed. Finally, she would be released from the power he held over her. Now she wouldn't have to pretend anymore. She wouldn't have to submit to a man and do the disgusting things a man wanted to do. Her roommate, Elaine, would be thrilled, too.
Bruce's pulse raced. Maybe, just maybe, he would be left enough to take over the old homestead. That room upstairs held a lot of memories. It would be a shame to have to move all that stuff out of there. Besides, what a place to bring his friends to!
Alma sat impassively. The will meant very little to her. She didn't really need the money. Well, maybe a little. Some of the things in the house were of interest to her. The old place held no fond memories for her. It had meant work, taking care of the family while her mother was gone and submitting to her father when his sex urges were aroused. And this past week had just about done it for her. As always, they had used her, then left her to sit alone. The sooner everything was settled and she could turn her back on the old house, the better.
" 'To Norman, Charles, Hugh, Cora, Clint, Diane, Bruce and Alma Carswell, we bequeath the sum of one dollar,' " the lawyer intoned. He stopped and waited for the expected outburst from the Carswell family.
"A buck!" Norm called out. "What the hell kind of deal is this?" He glared at Borstein, then at Alma. "Did you have something to do with this?" he asked his sister.
Charles leaped into the discussion. "Yeah, Alma, what's going on?"
Alma frowned, looked from one to the other. Norman's initial accusation had put looks of hatred into the eyes of the other members of the family. "I don't know anything about it," she said softly. "The will was drawn up by Mom and Dad. That's all I know about it."
Borstein was tapping his pencil patiently on the table top. "May I continue?"
The room dropped into silence.
"Go on," Alma said. Her voice was strained, tense.
Borstein cleared his throat and looked down at the will. " 'Over the years, we have had a first-hand look at our family. It is not our intention to slight anyone, only to bequeath what remains of our assets to those members of our family who have been most deserving. We feel, therefore, that the amounts noted heretofore are fair and just. We have left you exactly what we felt you deserved.
"However, along with this thinking, we have entered into this will and testament a provision which will transfer the bulk of our estate to the one member of the family who has been the most deserving. Over the years, she has maintained her position in-society as a hard-working, moral and wholesome person. To this party we bequeath the family home and its furnishings, and our businesses. Further, it is our wish that all funds carried in the names of Thomas and Carlina Carswell be transferred to her account upon our deaths. The recipient, as you may have already ascertained, is Alma Ann Carswell, our eldest daughter.' "
"Son of a bitch!" Norman spat.
"I knew she'd find a way to get the whole thing," Charles growled.
The two girls, Cora and Diane, sat stunned. Clint jerked himself out of his chair and stalked to the door; Hugh was close behind. Bruce's eyes filled with tears, then he leaned his head on his arms and began to sob noisily.
"I had nothing to do with it," Alma said, openly surprised about what had occurred. "Honest. I didn't know a thing about what was in the will."
"I told you I'd be seeing you," Clement Borstein was saying an hour later, when all but Alma had left the house. "You will stay here, won't you?"
"I don't know," Alma said. "Everything happened so fast." She looked at him and felt a tremor go through her when she thought of their session together. At least he had given her what she wanted. He had satisfied her. He had given as much as he had taken.
"What we did yesterday was only the beginning," he said, observing the look of desire in her eyes. "I know I can satisfy your every wish. I can almost see in your eyes what deep passion runs through your body." He got up from his chair and stood before her by the couch. "Come on, we have things to do ... upstairs."
Alma saw the lump grow in his crotch. She thought of the big, delicious, bull-like cock nestled there. She thought of how beautiful it had felt, both in her cunt and in her mouth. She felt her passion ignite. She got up, went to the front door, and locked it.
"You can cancel all your appointments for the weekend," she said, her eyes glistening with wanton desire. "For the time being, I am your appointment." She went into his arms and pressed her big tits against his chest as she sought his mouth with hers.
"You're the best client I've ever had," he murmured when he took his lips from hers.
