The short white gown barely covered the bottom of her shapely buttocks. Jon looked up from the table, his heart beating rapidly.
He could stand it no longer. He leaped to his feet and rushed behind her, grabbing her around the waist, pressing his already insistent manhood against the tantalizing globes of naked flesh.
She looked at him from over her shoulder. "But Jon," she whimpered, "I'm your sister."
As she spoke she began to turn around, her eyes sparkling, her tongue running wildly over her lips.
"My sister," he hissed as her fingers reached for his zipper.
CHAPTER ONE
Jon sat in his white undershorts at the kitchen table, diligently trying to scrub tarnish off a soup spoon. A pile of dirty silverware was heaped on the old table to his left. A smaller assortment of shiny polished silverware was spread to his right. He finally realized how much time he was wasting and threw down the spoon and cloth, pushing the wooden chair back on its rear legs, holding the tabletop for balance.
He stared at Rosanne, his attractive twenty-year-old sister, whose back was to him while she washed dishes at the sink. Rosanne, faithful to a summertime habit she always followed when their parents were not at home, was wearing a white kurtah that covered her to just below her shapely ass. Every time she stretched to place a wet platter in the dish drainer, she inadvertently pulled the kurtah high enough for Jon to plainly glimpse the lower curves of her buttocks and the deep shadowed crack between them.
Jon wondered sometimes if his sister was conscious of how restless she made him. He wondered if he would always be able to resist her compelling sensuality. He would have to resist. She was his sister. That was why their running around with next to nothing on was so dangerous. That's why Jon feared having an erection more than anything.
He blew his bushy hair up over his forehead. " How much longer are you going to be washing dishes? Haven't we done enough work for awhile?"
Rosanne shut off the water, grabbed a towel to dry her hands, and turned around toward him. The wide neckline opening in the kurtah revealed so much of her luscious breasts that Jon struggled with himself to keep from turning away. The safe thing for him to do, he realized, would be to look somewhere else-but curiosity won over his better judgment.
"What's the matter?" Rosanne asked. "You bored already?"
"Yeah, I'm bored. If you want , to know the God's honest truth ... I'm bored sick. This is women's work," he said, flourishing his hand over the silverware.
'"Women's work?"
"Yeah, women's work. Boys shouldn't be doing this kind of shit."
"Oh, they shouldn't, should they? Well, I hope you don't think I'm going to do everything around here to get. the house ready for Momma and Daddy."
"Nobody's asking you to do everything all by your little precious self," he said. "All I'm asking is if we can't take a walk down to the beach or somewhere and continue these damn chores later."
"No."
"Christ." He got up and walked across the kitchen. He felt his dick swinging a little more heavily beneath his undershorts and was frightened even more about getting an erection. He pounded his fist against the refrigerator door. "I don't know why we have to do all this housework every summer. I don't know why they just don't hire somebody to come up here ahead of time to get everything in order." Rosanne draped the towel over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. "Think, Jon, think. Doing this work is a way we have of earning our allowance."
"Our allowance. Some allowance. Ten bucks a week. What can a guy do with ten bucks a week?"
"Poor Jon. I have to explain everything to you, don't I? It isn't just the allowance, stupid. It's what Momma and Daddy will do for us if we do what they want. If we get the house ready for them like they asked, they might be willing to bend a bit when it comes to rules and regulations. Like letting us use the car this summer."
Jon combed his fingers through his reckless unruly hair. "May I ask you a question? What good would a car do us up here in the middle of nowhere? I mean, what are we going to do? Drive through the mountains again? We've done that. We did that last summer and the summer before. We've driven around and around this area so often that I know every tree by heart."
"We haven't been to Bangor."
"Bangor! Where the hell is Bangor?"
"Too far to walk and close enough to drive."
"Who cares about Bangor?"
"You may not care about Bangor because your head's too fogged up with that pot you always smoke. But I care about Bangor because it's the closest place where there might be some boys for me ... and girls for you ... if you can fan some of that smoke away from your head long enough to see what's going on out there."
Jon admitted his sister might have a point. He would have to find girls sooner or later. He couldn't jack off every day all summer. That would bore him to death and would be a terrible waste of good sperm.
Now that he was eighteen and no longer a virgin, he found himself needing sex more and more often. And he knew he wouldn't be able to get out of the house long enough to find pussy-let alone drive somewhere for it-unless he did as his parents expected.
He sat down at the table again and angrily dug the cloth into the jar of tarnish remover.
Rosanne found a dry towel in the drawer and began drying the wet glasses. "Are you beginning to understand what I'm trying to tell you?"
"Yes, goddammit, I understand. I understand that we have to politick for everything in this family."
"That's a fact of life, Jon. We can't change the way Momma and Daddy think."
"No, but we don't have to put up with it. That's what I say. We don't have to jump every time they say jump."
"Jon, we're better off together against them than we are if we're working against each other. That's what I'm trying to tell you."
"I'm going to polish five more of these spoons, and then I'm going for a walk down to the ocean. You want to come with me?"
"Sure. By the time you finish five more spoons, it'll be nightfall; and I will have finished the dishes, scrubbed the bathrooms, and vacuumed the whole house."
"Very funny."
"I don't know why you're always wanting to go down to the beach. There's nothing there."
"I like it. That's why. You like to sit here all night and watch television, and I like to go down to the water. How can you see anything on that television anyway? The picture's always so fuzzy and snowy that I never know what I'm watching."
Rosanne suddenly sat down at the table opposite him and leaned forward. "Jon?"
"What?"
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Shoot."
"Do you think I'm attractive?"
"What brought that on?"
"Do you?"
"Yeah, I think you're attractive."
"I mean, do you find me attractive?"
Jon dropped the spoon and cloth. "What kind of question is that? Of course, I find you attractive. Don't all boys?"
"I guess so." She continued wiping the glass, submerged in her own thoughts.
Jon couldn't figure her out sometimes. Most of the time Rosanne was so logical and clearheaded. And then there were other times when she just didn't make any sense at all. He was beginning to hate himself again for wanting to stare at her young delicious looking boobs. He had to put on some clothes. He was too horny today to be running around in underpants. It was too easy to get an erection being so close to nudity.
"Jon, do you remember when we used to go skinny-dipping together?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Don't you remember? We used to go skinny-dipping all the time together until just about three or four years ago."
"That was because you were starting to feel embarrassed. You didn't want me to see your tits starting to grow."
"Is that why we stopped?"
"Sure. I was starting to fill out a little bit too. But I was proud. I remember. Why are you thinking about that now?"
"Oh, I don't" know."
"Why? Are you thinking about going nude with me into the water?"
"Naw, I don't want to do that, Jon."
"Why not? We can have a lot of fun."
"We're too old for that now. We've grown up too much. We aren't kids anymore."
"Listen, Rosanne. If we're free enough to run around dressed like this, we can still be free enough to swim naked together."
"But what if something should happen?"
"What could happen! You're my sister! What do you think I am, a madman or something?"
Rosanne smiled and got up from the table. "Oh, Jon, you're so naive sometimes. I worry about you because you're so stupid."
She walked around behind him and patted his face with her hand. He quickly grabbed her hand and forced her to stand in front of him. Rosanne was shocked.
"What do you mean, I'm stupid?" he asked. "What are you up to, Roz? You're up to something. I can tell. I can always tell when you're up to something."
"Will you let go of my wrist?" she insisted, yanking herself free from his grip. 'I'm not up to anything. I was just testing you, that's all."
"Testing me?"
"That's right, testing you. I can see that I better not wear this kurtah around the house when we're alone anymore."
"What are you talking about?" he demanded, getting up from the table.
"Just this. You've been watching my body awfully closely lately, Jon Williams, and don't think I haven t noticed."
'What did you say?"
"You heard me. You've been staring at me like I was some kind of statue."
"So? Can I help it if you look beautiful?"
"That's what I mean. We're too grown up to be acting like kids."
"Kids!"
"Don't shout."
"Kids! Who's acting like kids? All I said was ..
"I heard you, Jon, loud and clear. I better go change."
'Wait a minute!"
Rosanne hurried from the kitchen, but Jon ran after her and grabbed her, spun her around, and gazed furiously at her.
"What are you going to do now?" she sarcastically asked. "Kiss me?"
"Kiss you? I've got a good notion to twist off your head. You've known all along, haven't you, about what that sheet you wear does to me?"
"For months."
"I ought to rip that thing right off you."
"Go ahead. Try it. Just try it."
"You don't want to go skinny-dipping with me. You just wanted to see if that would turn me on."
"That's right, buster." She jerked backwards and the right side of the kurtah slipped from her shoulder, revealing more of her ample tits. "And now that I know what turns you on, I can watch myself more carefully ... to make sure you. don't try anything rash."
'Why you goddamned little bitch."
"Easy, Jon," she warned, backing away still farther. He suddenly lunged at her and shoved her toward the living room. He pushed her hard and forced her to fall on the Early American sofa. He ignored his gigantic pulsing hardon. It was trapped sideways beneath his shorts and was itching madly and was struggling fiercely to escape from the confines of the cloth.
Jon, seething with anger and asserting his strength to overcome his humiliation, planted one knee on the sofa to keep Rosanne pinned down. She stared up at his athletic physique, at his throbbing bouncing organ, at his sweaty blushing face.
Spit sprayed when he spoke. "That wasn't the right thing to do. You shouldn't have done that. You shouldn't have teased me by wearing that shirt."
"Jon, it was all in good fun," she explained, obviously trying to cajole him and minimize her danger. "Jon, what are you going to do?"
He breathed heavily and trembled all over. What he wanted to do was fuck the daylights out of her. He wanted to cram his hot piston down her throat, gag her with it, and then screw her until she fainted.
He reached down and ripped the kurtah in half, throwing a handful of the soft fabric on the floor, stripping her of any protection.
Rosanne screamed and urgently tried to cover as much of her ripe voluminous breasts with her hands and arms as she could.
"Jon! Don't!"
"Don't what? This is what you want, isn't it? Isn't this why you wore that shirt? To arouse me? To get my blood going? To get my balls up?"
"Don't say that, Jon! Don't say that!"
"Look at 'em." He squeezed her arm tightly with one hand and lowered his underpants with the other. His dick swung out like a baseball bat and then climbed higher and higher in short quick spurts until its two inch wide cockhead was pointing straight up. His hard big balls clung toward the base of his cock. "See?" he said. "See that?"
Rosanne wouldn't look. She shut her eyes tightly and turned her head aside. Jon wanted so much to slap her face and feel her huge round tits, but he had too much respect for himself, he decided. Rosanne wanted him to ravish her and attack her and be aggressive-so he changed his mind to keep from satisfying her.
He stood up, pulled his underpants over his steaming organs, and walked away. "And all along I thought it was me who had the dirty ideas. Every time I saw you in that flimsy shirt and felt myself getting curious and excited ... I always told myself ... don't think about it. You're not supposed to think such thoughts."
"Jon, don't be mad at yourself," she said, sitting up. "But you knew all along. You knew damned well what your body was doing to me. It isn't right, Roz. Brothers and sisters shouldn't play around with sex the way we've been doing."
"But you're the one who wanted to go skinny-dipping just a few minutes ago." She covered her boobs with one of the pillows from the sofa.
Jon slapped his hand hard against the wall. "But I wasn't thinking about turning you on! I wasn't thinking about getting your juices going! I wasn't thinking about fucking you!"
"Really, Jon. What do you think naked people do? Sit around and eat hamburgers together?"
"I liked the idea of skinny-dipping ... and you're the one who brought it up in the first place ... because I thought it would be fun. I didn't think it would turn into something dirty. Maybe a little provocative or whatever they call that. But not dirty."
"Jon, you're a bore."
"I'm a what? You think just because I don't want to be seduced by my sister, for crying out loud, that I'm boring? You're full of shit, Rosanne, that's what you are."
"I should have known better."
"Damned right, you should have known better! You have no business trying to turn me on! And I always thought that our running around dressed like this was innocent ... free. I should have known better. I should have known that the first time you asked to see me masturbate. I should have known right then and there that nothing innocent ever goes through your mind."
"That's a lie," she said, standing up. "What's wrong with asking a brother to show his sister some of the facts of life? Where would you prefer I learn those things? In the gutter? With some fool who doesn't care about me?"
"Stop being melodramatic. And stop being devious. You're as devious with me as you are with Mom and Dad."
Jon rested his arms on the hutch and relaxed, bowing his head. He didn't know what to do anymore. He had a hardon that was driving him crazy and a sister who was not to be believed. She was really shocking the hell out of him this time, he thought. He had no idea where she was getting some of her schemes-but they weren't right.
And then he felt Rosanne hugging her arms around him and felt her lusty full tits pressing against his hot sweating back. He slowly turned around and gripped both of her arms, stealing still another glance at her fabulously appetizing boobs.
"Look, Roz, whatever you're trying to do ... it's wrong. Do you hear me? It isn't right. None of this is right. We've got to get dressed and forget all about this sort of thing. We can't let this go any further."
He left the living room and climbed the stairs toward his room. He closed the door and collapsed on the old bed, lying on his back with his hands beneath his head. He just couldn't believe Rosanne would ever attempt anything so ludicrous and perverted. It was perverted he told himself again and again. It was sodomy!
The occasional brief fantasy he sometimes entertained about having sex with Rosanne couldn't possibly compare to her premeditated schemes. It all fit into place for him now. The way she always pranced around the house nearly naked whenever their parents weren't home. The invitation she gave him to masturbate for her months ago. The way she always asked him to help her with her clothes and hair. The time she complained of pimples on her back and begged him to help her take a bath. The explicit, detailed accounts of her dates with boyfriends. The way she always complained about how unfulfilled she was with lovers and how great a lover she suspected he was. And now-the business about skinny-dipping. The business about going to Bangor together.
Everything she did was all directed toward one subtle goal-to involve Jon in her sexploits. God! he thought. How could he have been such a fool! Why hadn't he realized this before?
There was a knock on the door.
"Come in," he answered.
Rosanne entered his little bedroom wearing a nightgown. The four o'clock sun was shining through the window and creating an orange trapezoid of light on the wooden floor. Rosanne looked sensational, Jon thought, in the late afternoon haze.
"I've come to apologize," she timidly said.
"Roz, it just isn't right to play with my feelings the way you've been doing."
"I'm sorry, Jon. I really wasn't aware of how carried away things were getting."
"That's what we have to look out for, Roz ... to make sure that we don't get carried away. We could really regret something like that later. And we could even grow to hate each other."
"I was wrong," she said. "I was really wrong. I didn't think there could be any harm in our having affection for each other."
Jon sat up on the squeaky bed and piled his pillows against the antique brass headboard. He leaned back upon them, crossed his legs, and reached over to the bedside table for his cigarettes and matches.
"There's nothing wrong with our having affection for each other," he said, tapping a cigarette against the pack. "And there's nothing wrong with our showing affection for each other. But Rosanne. That's just not the same thing as turning each other on in a sexual way. There's a very big difference." He struck the paper match and started smoking.
Rosanne cautiously stepped forward. The sun streaked across her reddish brown hair and accentuated her breasts by shining on them from the side-causing them to cast long shadows upon the rest of her bosom and upon the gown which lightly covered them.
"Jon ... I haven't been able to help myself."
"What do you mean? How?"
"I haven't been able to stop myself from having these feelings about you. I know they're wrong but I can't get them out of my mind."
"Well, you're going to have to, Roz. There's no two ways about it."
He thought she would start to cry. "Don't say it that way, Jon. You don't know what it's like for me. You don't know how much I suffer because of the way I feel about you."
"Rosanne..
She hurried over to the bed and sat down by his feet. "Don't you understand? You turn me on more than any boy I've ever known. You mean more to me than a hundred lovers. I'd rather be with you and I'd rather have these feelings for you than with any other guy "And that's exactly what I'm telling you, goddammit. That's exactly what's not right," he instructed, wagging his fingers holding the cigarette toward her. "Those are precisely the ideas and feelings you've got to get out of that pretty little head."
She lazily leaned sideways and hugged his legs. She snuggled his ankles under her armpit. Her hair swirled and curled around his legs and upon the colorful patchwork quilt.
He couldn't understand girls sometimes. You can talk and talk, he thought, and explain things over and over-and they still don't pay attention. What was wrong with his sister anyhow, he wondered? Why did she have so much difficulty finding enjoyment with other boys-the way a normal girl should?
Jon blew a stream of smoke toward the ceiling. Right then, he knew what he should do. He should jump out of bed, exercise for a good half hour, and then take a long cold shower. But he didn't. The sensation of Rosanne rotating her fingertips around and around the bottoms of his feet was much too soothing and far too relaxing for him to seriously contemplate running away.
"Roz, do you really think you should be doing that?"
"It feels good, doesn't it?"
"Yes, but do you think you should be making me feel good that way? Aren't you afraid? One thing can lead to the next, Rosanne."
"Not if we don't want it to. We don't have to do anything we don't want."
She was right about that. "Look, Roz. What do you want me to do? What are you after? Do you still want to watch me masturbate? Is that what you want?"
Rosanne sat up suddenly, smiling joyously at him-her eyes sparkling and her face blushing. "Yes! Will you? Will you do it so I can watch? You have the most beautiful body of any boy I've ever seen. I adore your body, Jon. Please let me watch."
"All right. But just this once. After I do it this time, I don't want you ever asking me to do it again for you."
"I won't. I promise."
"And I don't want you ever mentioning sex to me either. Or running around the house when Mom and Dad aren't here with so little on."
"I won't."
"You can watch me this time but never again."
"Oh, thank you, Jon!" she cried out, falling across his legs again-but this time, resting her face directly upon his lumpy crotch. She even nestled her face more comfortably between his legs, causing Jon incredible agitation.
He smashed out his cigarette. "How can I get at my cock if you're going to rest your head there?"
"I'm sorry, Jon," she said, sitting up and sliding farther down his legs.
"Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is for me?" he asked, raising his ass off the bed so he could slip out of his undershorts.
"Oh, Jon! I didn't want to tell you before ... but that dick looks magnificent! Oh, Jon! I've never seen anything that looks so superb."
"Thanks."
Rosanne helped him remove his shorts and then she reclined across his legs again. "This means so much to me," she said, kissing his leg.
"Come on, Roz. Cut out all that shit and just watch. It's a hot demon right now and won't take long to shoot."
He spread his legs so his balls wouldn't be cramped and then clutched his enormous prick at its base. He slowly jerked off and laughed gently at how good he was beginning to feel already-and at how weirdly exciting the whole thing was. He could tell that Rosanne was captivated and enjoying his antics very much. He wished she wasn't his sister so he could let her suck it for him.
Rosanne breathed deeply, wetting her lips with her tongue, gazing at Jon's gigantic pillar and bouncing balls with rapture. She clasped her hands together as though she wished she could grab some of it herself.
She made quite a sight, he thought. If it were not for her and how sexy she looked, he probably wouldn't have been half as horny as he was. But Rosanne was a tempting sultry broad. And beneath that gown, Jon dreamed, was probably one of the wildest cunts a boy could find.
He continually worked his cock. "How do you like it?"
"God! It looks good enough to eat!"
"Don't even think about it."
"It looks so clean and healthy and strong! I bet you really drive your girlfriends crazy with that, Jon."
"Yep. They love it."
"Are you going to come?"
"Not yet. It feels too good. I want it to last."
"Oh, God, it's driving me crazy. I want to have that great big thing way deep inside me."
"Sorry."
"Oh, Jon, I could kill myself for making you do this."
Jon suddenly released his cock, and it slapped his belly. Sitting up, he said, "What the hell's going on here? I thought you wanted to watch me do this because you were curious. It sounds to me like you've done every bedtime stunt there is."
"Don't stop, Jon. Keep doing it ... please."
"You've probably seen a hundred guys do this already."
"No. I haven't. Just a few. But it's never meant anything to me. Not until now."
"I don't understand you, Rosanne. I just don't understand anything about you. If you've seen guys do this, why do you have to watch me?"
"Trust me. Please."
"Christ, you girls are all the same. Each and every one of you is fucked up in her own special way." He reclined on his back again, feeling exasperated and defeated. He should have better sense than to do what he was doing-he knew. But coming would feel good. And if Rosanne insisted on watching him, then that was her business. She was the one who had to live with herself, he thought.
He slipped his left hand under his head and held his huge peter with his right. Before resuming his manipulations, he looked down at her. "You better not tell Mother about this."
Rosanne grinned in a manner which Jon interpreted as hiding sly thoughts. "Don't worry," she said. "I won't."
"Or Dad."
Rosanne delicately adjusted her gown. She brushed her hair over her shoulder. "Really, Jon. What do you think I am, an idiot? Why would I want to mention this to Mother or Father? I'd get into as much trouble as you. No, I'm afraid this is one of those things I hope we can keep between the two of us. I'm a bad girl, Jon, but not bad enough to snitch."
"Promise?"
"That's what I love about you, Jon. You're so adorably dumb. Yes, I promise. Is there anything else you'd like to know before we get on with our fun?"
He fondled his big nuts and rolled over on his side, leaning his head on his hand. "Yeah. You have a real sexual interest in me, don't you, Roz?"
"Oh, for chrissake! Will you jack off your meat already, or do I have to do it for you?"
She lunged for his crotch, but he held her back. "You do, don't you? It isn't just a matter of wanting to see some boy do this. You're interested in me."
"What do you want me to say? Yes! I've always been interested in you. I've always been more interested in you than I was in other boys. I've watched you grow up, and I love the way you're turning out. You aren't sick like I am. Or half as lonely."
Jon lay on his back again and looked up at the ceiling-slowly resuming his masturbating. "Gosh. I never knew you were that bad off. I never knew you had that many problems. You're in bad shape, Rosanne. You're in real bad shape."
"You said it."
He felt her lay alongside his legs again and felt her hand massaging him higher and higher up his thigh. Her fingertips were getting awfully close to his nuts, and he was afraid she might get the idea to grab them. He couldn't get over how strange his sister was. He never knew she was this strange. And he never realized until now how attractive she was to him. He didn't agree with her attraction, but he felt more sorry for her just then than anything.
He would have to get to the bottom of her problem later. He would have to help her mentally and emotionally-if he could. He couldn't let her go on being screwed up the way she was. He wanted to do what he could for her-even if it meant compromising a little bit or bending.
He sat up. "Roz...."
"Shhh. Just lie still. Don't say a word. Everything will be all right. You're my little brother. Remember? I won't let any harm come to you."
"Roz, aren't you worried about yourself?"
"Sure, I'm worried. Wouldn't you be?"
"I am." Not only worried but hurt-for her sake.
She smiled knowingly at him and touched his well developed chest to coax him into a lying position again. Jon reclined and slowly shook his head. Rosanne and the situation was just too difficult to understand.
He surrendered. He started jerking off with the sole intention of coming as quickly as possible. He didn't want this to last any longer than necessary. The sooner he came, the sooner he could set Rosanne straight about many things. He was beginning to believe that he had more common sense than she did. And he was two years younger.
The more he jerked off, the better he felt and the easier it was for him to forget his problems. His pleasure became increasingly more sublime. He felt wonderfully selfish and terrifically alive.
He was proud of his dick. It was one of the biggest ones in his gym class, and he appreciated every electrifying moment of ecstasy it awarded him. If only Rosanne was any other girl! he kept wishing. Any other girl could latch onto that cock and make a meal of it. If Rosanne were any other girl, he could ball her until they were deliriously insane with joy and euphoria.
Rosanne, herself, would be a good fuck, he thought while beating his meat faster and faster-so fast that he wondered if his balls would start hurting. Rosanne was gorgeous for a twenty-year old. She had a lovely face and great big knockers, a slender waistline and what Jon guessed might be size thirty-five hips. 36-22-35. What more could any boy want?
Jon knew the answer to that question-a girl who wasn't his own sister.
He quickly felt the orgasm getting closer and closer. He wanted to know how Rosanne was reacting to the sight of his mushrooming cock and busily bouncing nuts, so he sat up slightly, faintly smiling and trying to keep his eyes opened wide enough to see her.
Rosanne was playing with his rocks! "Don't! Don't do that!"
"Why, Jon?"
"Roz ... don't touch them ... please!"
"Shoot, Jon. Make it hit the ceiling."
He wanted to wait until she let go of his nuts, but he couldn't. There was no way he could control himself at that point. He was too close to the threshold. To stop now would mean to sacrifice all the joy of a great and powerful orgasm.
He was stunned. Rosanne was cupping her hands over his cockhead. She wanted to catch his juice. He didn't like it. He didn't like her getting this physically close to him. He wanted to beg her to leave him alone, but he was too late.
Rosanne opened her mouth, bowed down, and gobbled so much of his meat that he had no more room on the shaft to hold it himself. The sight alone of her doing that-his own mother-fucking sister!-was enough to blow the cork right off the champagne bottle.
Jon fell back on the bed, splaying his arms out wide on the bed and slapping them hard against the mattress-coming insatiably. He groaned .and squealed and heard Rosanne humming as though she were tasting sweet candy.
She kept sucking his dick even after he was drained dry. Finally, she let his mammoth rod slip from between her lips. Jon was exhausted. He breathed deeply in the hopes of catching his breath and sighed whenever he remembered how good coming felt. One reason why he didn't say anything was because he was still flabbergasted that Rosanne had the nerve and cruelty to actually eat his dick. He couldn't believe she did what she did.
He felt the bed bouncing and soon heard the springs squeak. When he slowly sat up, he saw something that he never dreamed possible of seeing. Rosanne's gown was opened wide, and she was fingerfucking herself with one hand while holding a tit with the other.
Had she been any other girl, Jon would have known what to do. He would have loved to have been able to finish her off himself. But this was Rosanne. This wasn't just ANY girl.
Horrified, confused, and miserably frustrated-he bolted from the bed and darted out of the room. He steadied himself in the upstairs hallway and watched surplus come drip from his now softening dick. He held the banister and tried to decide what to do, where to go, what to think!
Rosanne stepped from his bedroom and was silhouetted by the colorful stained glass window at the end of the corridor. "Jon? Jon, are you all right?"
He looked at her. He couldn't believe that she thought everything should be all right. He couldn't believe her nonchalance and guiltlessness. That's what amazed him the most-her utter lack of conscience and guilt. Some big sister she had turned out to be. Some beautiful young man he had become.
"Don't you have any feelings at all?' he asked. "Isn't there anything inside you that tells you right from wrong? Don't you ever draw the line somewhere?"
Rosanne walked barefoot toward him and entered an area of dim light that was beaming upstairs from the living room below. She wasn't smiling. He was glad to see that. At least she wasn't proud of what she had done. And then he corrected himself. It wasn't what she had done. It was what they had done. He was as much at fault and as deeply implicated and responsible as she. Or irresponsible, as the case may be.
"Yes, Jon. I have feelings inside me. I know what I've done. Do you?"
"Do I? Of course, I do!"
"Then let's just face it like adults."
"Like adults? Do you think adults let themselves do the kind of thing we've done?"
"You don't know, I guess, do you?"
"Know what? What am I supposed to know?"
"Your father seduced me."
CHAPTER TWO
Tears streamed down his face while he hastily, nervously got dressed. The incredible horror of it all! The agonizing pain of it all! A sister, who had somehow along the line, turned into the most unscrupulous, wretched, depraved, immoral mess of a girl he had ever encountered. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't for the love of God believe it in a million years! It wasn't possible!
But it was possible and it was true. Horribly true. And she had implicated him. That was the worst part. She had taken his trust and twisted it all up in a great big knot and smacked him again and again across the face with it.
Not only that! Their father was involved! Seducing his daughter! What was that supposed to mean? Had he slept with Rosanne? Had he taught her this corruption? Or was Rosanne lying about that too? The way she lied about lots of things. Pretending to be innocent in wanting to watch him masturbate. Pretending to be innocent in wearing clothes that would have turned on any damned fool. Lies! Lies, lies, and more lies.
His hands were trembling uncontrollably as he tried to shove the end of his belt through the loop above his left pocket. Sweat was dripping from his hot angry face. His nose flared and his lips quivered from his frustration, from his anguish, from his overwhelming desire to bust out. Break free. Get the hell away from all this shit. All this disgusting, unbelievable, satanic crap.
He urgently wiped his nose and forehead on the sleeve of his shirt and grabbed his dungaree jacket Sweat was already seeping through his shirt.
Rosanne was timidly standing beside the doorway.
"Get out of my way," he commanded. "Get out of my way!"
"Jon, I don't want you to jump to conclusions."
He rushed to the door with such determination that Rosanne hurried out of his way. He ran down the hall, gliding his hand along the banister, gripped the comer post, and leaped down the stairs, two at a time.
"Jon! Jon, please listen to me! Jon, it's not what you think!"
He threw open the door, allowing it to bang against the inside wall and close by itself, and jumped from the front porch.
Lightning flashed from the dark sky and caused a silvery strobe effect on the forest trees. He ran. He didn't want to stop running. He never wanted to go back there again. He couldn't go back there again.
He didn't care what they did. He didn't care what his sister wanted to do. Or what his father wanted to do. And his mother! Was she in on this also? Did she know what was going on? You see? he told himself. That's what they can do to you! That's what they can do to your mind! They can have you believing just about anything! His mother. No way. No way on earth could she possibly know anything about Rosanne's perversions. Or her husband's perversions.
Perversions! He was a fine one to be thinking about other people's perversions! He was as guilty as they now. He wasn't any better. Rosanne had seen to that. She had thrown her magical black scarf around his neck and lured him to bed.
Only it wasn't a black scarf. It was that white kurtah. That goddamned white kurtah. And it had turned him on. She had turned him on. She wasn't to blame. He was to blame. It was his passion that allowed him to beat his meat for her. She sucked it at the critical moment, but it was his own failing that got himself in that position to begin with. God, how he hated himself now! He didn't know who he hated more-himself, Rosanne, or their father.
Rain started dripping on him. Cold rain. He stopped and took off his dungaree jacket. Then he stripped off his sweat-soaked T-shirt. He walked along the edge of the road and didn't care how wet with rain he got. The cold drizzle felt good. Different. Strangely refreshing. Anything would be refreshing compared to what he had just been through.
More lightning and this time-thunder. Loud, crackling thunder. "Open up, you motherfucking sky! Rain!"
He walked briskly. He didn't know where he was walking because there was nothing down the road except an intersection of two asphalt highways. A gasoline station, a vegetable market, and a cafe. All of which would be closed at this hour for sure. And that was ten, fifteen miles away. The nearest town-where was the nearest town, he wondered? If memory served him well from past summers-a good twenty-five or more miles.
Jon switched his dungaree jacket and T-shirt to his other hand and flung them over his other shoulder. He rubbed the cold raindrops over his muscular chest and prayed the rain would come down harder. Much harder. With all its might. With all its vengeance.
It did. Rain started coming down so hard that Jon laughed. He shut his eyes, held his face upward, and staggered down the road-laughing aloud while the deluge splashed and drenched his face. His pants felt as though they were shrinking ten sizes. His flesh felt alive and rejuvenated. He felt alive and rejuvenated. There was nothing like it. He hoped he could stay out in the rain all night.
More lightning lashed through the sky and louder thunder erupted. He laughed and damned the world. He stomped through puddles and wanted to run toward the forest and lie down right then and there.
When he looked ahead, he saw headlights. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know whether he should hide among the trees or keep walking. He kept walking.
He didn't want a ride. The car was going the wrong way-back toward his family's summerhouse. And he didn't want to be with anyone. He wanted to be alone. He didn't care where he was going, just so long as he got far away from Roz. Far away from Hell.
Although he kept walking, squinting because the heavy downpour was beating and twisting his eyelashes, he could see that the car had stopped about a hundred feet in front of him. He refused to show cowardice and continued ahead. The rain had thoroughly soaked his hair and had washed it down across his face.
The automobile headlights bounced up and down slightly, and Jon knew the car was coming closer-closer-directly in front of him. And then it stopped.
He walked by it, and whoever was inside had rolled down the window and was leaning across the front seat toward him.
"Want a ride?"
A woman's voice. A girl. Jon leaned down and looked at her-the rain pouring down his face. He couldn't see her too well, but the dim green light from the dashboard illuminated her enough so that Jon could plainly see that she was young-and not bad looking.
"You're going the wrong way!" he shouted over the sounds of the storm.
"So? I can turn around!"
He looked up the road from where she had driven. Darkness. Complete darkness. "I don't know!"
"Get in!"
Why not. What the hell. He opened the door, but before getting in, he said, "I'm wet! I'm soaked to the bone!"
"That's the idea! That's why I want to drive you!"
"But I'll get your car all wet!"
"Charity shall cover the multitude of sins! Peter, psalm four, verse eight!"
Well, he couldn't argue with that. And got in. He closed the door but felt very uncomfortable about leaning back against the seat. Not that it was a fancy car or anything like that because it wasn't. From what Jon could tell, it was a recent model but nothing luxurious. Still he felt inhibited and embarrassed about sitting there, dripping wet, and about her wanting to turn the car around so she could drive in his direction. His direction. Any route that took him away from the summerhouse was his direction.
"Set those things down on the floor," she said.
Jon dropped his water-logged jacket and T-shirt by his feet. "I'm not so sure I'm doing the right thing," he said, "imposing on you this way."
"You aren't imposing. Please. Relax a little. Don't be so afraid. I'm the one who should be afraid, shouldn't I? Picking up a total stranger?"
"You don't have to be afraid."
"And neither do you. Please. I enjoy helping people. I wouldn't have stopped for you if I didn't want."
"Thanks."
"You must be freezing."
"I am."
"There's a blanket in the trunk. Shall I get it for you?"
"No, I can get it."
"Okay," she said, turning off the engine and handing him the keys. "I think you should. You could catch pneumonia wearing those wet pants. What happened? You didn't make it home before the storm broke?"
"Yeah," he said and opened the door. The rain felt colder and heavier than before. He got the blanket from the trunk as quickly as he could and threw it on the front seat. Then, still standing outside next to the door, he stripped down his tightly shrunken dungarees and undershorts, struggling with them to push them down his legs. He tossed them on the floor behind the front seat and transferred his jacket and T-shirt back there too. The rain beat against his back.
Just as he was about to climb back inside, he happened to glance up and see that this pretty young girl was looking directly at his crotch. Not looking at it. Staring at it. Memorizing every bit of it with her wide opened eyes.
She saw that Jon was noticing her curiosity and abruptly looked away. He smiled, imagining how embarrassed she must feel, and crawled onto the front seat. He picked up the blanket and began drying himself all over-his arms, his hair, his chest, his legs.
"You're beautiful," she said, starting up the car again.
"Thanks. So are you." He reached down to dry his feet.
"No, I'm not."
"What? Of course, you are." And he meant it. Well, he wasn't sure that beautiful was the right word, but it would do because she certainly was appealing.
He studied her more closely as she began to turn the car around, continuing to dry himself at the same time. She couldn't have been more than eighteen or nineteen years old, and that pleased him. He always felt more secure with girls his own age. He could be freer with them and didn't have to suspect that they knew more about life and relationships than he. Older girls and older women always seemed to have a way of pulling the wool over his eyes, and he didn't like that. He didn't like to think that his women were more worldly wise than he.
"What's your name?"
"Dori."
"Mine's Jon."
The sight of his nude body must have really sent her into orbit because she wasn't saying very much now. As though she were too shy and embarrassed to speak. He didn't care. If he turned her on that much, he was glad. It made him feel proud of himself. It made him fell wanted. And if she wanted to have a good time, all she would have to do is say the word-and, by God, she could do anything she wanted. He hoped she wanted to get fucked. That's what he loved the most.
Dori sure wasn't dressed very sensuously, but then again, he thought, what girl would be driving through the back woods of Maine of a rainy night and be wearing wild clothes? None, but he was only curious, that's all. Curious about her body. Curious about her dimensions. Not everything was dependent upon physical characteristics, but things like that helped him to know a girl better. Christ, he had fucked fat pigs in his day and loved it.
He suspected Dori was very appealing without clothes. She was rather petite, but he could see that she had some knockers, at least. Probably more than met the eye because her button-down blouse fit her rather loosely. If she would only stretch that fabric a little bit, he could get a better idea of how much boob was really there.
And her face was pretty. Like most of the girls he had seen up in that area, Dori's face was very pretty but very plain. They must not have believed in makeup or anything like that, he thought, and it was just as well. It was different to see a girl who wasn't putting on a show for a change-or a mask. In fact, Dori's naturalness really turned him on. There was something pure about her. Unpretentious. Simple. He wondered if she could be a virgin. Impossible! Virgins past the age of twelve were an endangered species, and he couldn't be lucky enough to catch one of them. And oddly enough, he didn't really prefer virgins anymore. He always had to waste too much time with them in teaching basic techniques. That always drove him crazy. He much preferred a girl who could tumble around with him and know exactly what she was doing.
Jon felt better now that he was dry. And warmer too. He gathered up some of the blanket and draped it across his lap.
"I'll drive you wherever you're going," she said. "Funny you should say that"
"Funny?"
"That's just it. I don't know where I'm going."
"You don't know where you're going? You mean, you're just going?"
"Yes."
"Then you aren't going home or anywhere like that."
"Right. Home for me isn't around here anyway. Only my family's summer home. We're from Connecticut. Outside of Hartford."
"Connecticut. You're a long ways."
"Yes. You from around here?"
"Yes."
"It's pretty country," he said, "even when it's raining."
"That's what I thought. I thought I saw you laughing and smiling down the road back there. You know what I thought at first? I thought you were on drugs or something like that."
"No."
"I've never seen anybody walking along the highway all by himself, laughing."
The windshield wipers knocked back and forth in unison-creating a rhythm for their car ride, a tempo, a lazy and mesmerizing beat. Like a musical metronome. And the longer Jon listened to it, the sleepier he felt.
Only it wasn't really sleepiness he felt. He was wide awake. But the steady, monotonous rick-bang, rick-bang, rick-bang of the windshield wipers instilled in him a sense of boredom, of hypnotism, of not wanting to think about a thing in the world.
Rain splattered continuously and noisily on the roof and on the windshield. He-could hear the tires ripping through the water on the highway and watched the broken white line out there on the road.
He was feeling more comfortable now and stretched out his legs. He even wanted to lean his head back against the seat, but at the same time, he didn't want to appear too lackadaisical. It wouldn't be right, he decided, to act lethargic so soon after meeting this girl. He kept his eyes straight ahead. It would have been so easy for him to have simply shut them and cruise for miles without seeing anything.
Gradually, he began to realize that he was growing an erection. There was no doubt about it. The blanket across his lap was gently rubbing his cock, not very noticeably at first, but the farther they drove, the wilder his dick began to feel. Like someone was whisking her hair back and forth across it. The casual bounce of the car made his cock wiggle freely, and that added to his erotic excitement. He wanted to sneak his hand under the blanket to play with himself, but he was too afraid that Dori might see him. If anybody should be playing with it, she should. He wished she would. He wished something could be done to ease his sexual frustration-the itching, burning trepidation he felt at the very tip of his dick.
Just then, his cock swung forcefully upward beneath the blanket, probably standing rigid as the center pole propping up a tent. His leg muscles tightened automatically. The turbulence in his groin was driving him berserk. He thought he would bash his head right through the roof of the car.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
"Huh? Yeah! Sure. Fine. Just great."
"Oh."
She sounded disappointed when she said that-Oh. What did she expect him to say? That he was horny enough to shoot his wad against the dashboard? And why was she disappointed? Did she know how hot he was? Did she want to help him out?
"You're a strange one," he said.
"Pardon me?"
"You're a very strange girl ... for picking up someone you've never seen before on a night like this."
"You didn't look dangerous," Dori said. "In fact, you looked...."
She wouldn't finish what she started to say. 'I looked what? If you didn't think I looked dangerous, how did you think I looked?"
She giggled briefly. "I can't."
"No, go on. Tell me."
"No, I can't."
"Yes, you can."
"Beautiful. You looked beautiful. And intriguing.
Walking alone out there without your shirt. Of course, I'm taking a chance, but that's what's so exciting ... to me. You may not find this exciting at all, but I do."
"Oh, I do too," he reassured her. And the more he thought about it, the better his chances seemed of getting her in the back seat for some action. She trusted him and that was a relief. Not that she would have any reason not to trust him, but so many girls were so hung-up about getting intimate with a guy after knowing him so briefly. Girls up in the country, that is. Or had he been wrong? Were they just as promiscuous as city girls? Maybe all the fucking he had done during the past year had given him a confidence he lacked the summer before when he was out in the back woods. A new confidence that girls could perceive.
"Where are you taking me?" he asked.
Dori was surprised and somewhat defensive. 'Wherever you say. I'm just driving. I don't even know where you want to go."
"Three guesses."
"I'm sure I don't understand."
"I'm sure you do." Jon enjoyed teasing her a little bit. She was fantastically turned on. He could tell that. He could even see it in her face. The way she perspired under her eyes. The subtle gleam of perspiration on her chin. She was as excited as he but didn't want to admit it. Dori's shyness drew him even closer toward wanting to make it with her in the worst way. God, how he wanted to show her a good time. He wanted to give her all the fun and sex she could handle. He wanted to blow her mind with his lovemaking. Really lay it on her and give her a tender fucking she'd always remember.
"If you don't know where you're going tonight," she said, "how do you know where you'll sleep?"
"Now we're getting someplace."
"Jon!" she scolded.
And he laughed to himself. "You girls up here in Maine are peculiar."
"Jon!" she exclaimed condescendingly. "Do you want me to let you out right here and now in the pouring rain?"
"No."
"Then quit implying."
"I'm not implying anything. I just said you girls up here in Maine seem awfully peculiar."
"Well, maybe the girls you know are used to this ... picking up strange boys ... but we don't do that sort of thing up here very often. This is a remarkable thing I'm doing, Jon. Not only remarkable but downright sinful, if you stop and think about people's attitudes around here. I've never done anything like this before in my life!"
"Okay, I believe you."
"What do you think I am? Some kind of lonely heart who goes driving up and down the highway, looking for hitchhikers all the time?"
"I wasn't hitchhiking."
"I know you weren't. Do you know what my father would do to me if he knew what I was doing right now? He'd shoot me. He'd kill me, and don't laugh. He'd kill you too."
"Me? What did I do?"
"He wouldn't care."
"Well, your father isn't here, Dori, and neither is anybody else. We're all alone, and nobody has to know what we're doing. And nobody will know unless you tell them because I don't know a soul in this entire region."
They drove a couple of more miles without saying anything, but Jon instinctively believed that he and Dori were both thinking about the same thing exactly. Each other. Touching each other, reaching each other, making love. In fact, whenever one of them made the slightest movement, the other responded immediately-delicately but noticeably enough to maintain an intimate communication even in the silence.
They drove past the intersection where the cafe, gasoline station, and vegetable market were located-and all lights were out. Soon they were riding through forests again. Lightning blazed across the sky. Thunder roared. And Jon wondered if the storm would ever cease.
"Jon?"
"Yes?"
"I was thinking."
"Yes?"
"You know those men who do the work on the highways?"
"Yes?"
"Well, they were around here about a half a year ago. They were working in this area for the longest time. And you know what they did?"
"Uh-uh."
"They built themselves a little shack."
"A little shack?"
"Something like a cabin. To stay in while they worked up here."
"Oh."
"It's deserted now, of course. I don't know what it would be like, but we could drive by there and see. What I mean is ... it might be a place where you can sleep tonight. Until the rain stops. There aren't any motels around here, you know, and if you're trying to get away from your family's summerhouse ... which is none of my business ... you might be able to stay at the workmen's shack."
"All right. Let's have a look at it."
They were there in ten minutes. Dori was right. Not only was the little shack deserted, but it was practically impossible to reach by car. Brush was covering the narrow drive that led up to it, and deep mud was making their journey treacherous.
"I think we better park here," Jon said, "and run the rest of the way. I'm afraid we're going to have trouble getting this car out of this mud as it is."
"Oh, no."
"Don't worry about it. We'll manage."
"You think I should park right here?"
"Yes. If you turn off the lights, nobody will be able to see us from the road. There are too many trees back there anyway."
Dori obeyed and also shut off the motor. "Well! Here we are!"
Jon turned sideways toward her and raised his left leg up on the seat-the first time he had done anything like that since he had gotten into her car. He stretched his arm across the back of the front seat and flirtatiously touched her shoulder with his fingertips.
Dori refrained from looking at him and from moving at all. She stared straight ahead, gripping the steering wheel with both hands.
Jon glided his hand down her arm and touched hers, scooting closer to his reluctant challenge. "Dori?"
She couldn't speak without tensely clearing her throat first. "Yes?"
"Dori?"
At last, she looked at him-her eyes barely visible to him in the darkness. She was beginning to lean toward him, and he could feel the passionate vibrations filling the car, their world, the damp air around them.
He took her arms and persuaded her to fall toward him. He leaned back, brought her across the seat, and embraced her so that she was resting against his naked chest. She was going crazy with lust. He could tell. Her whole slender body fell limp against him, and he knew this was her way of surrendering. Of surrendering whatever it was that made girls like her lead chaste lives all the time and then rebel with a total stranger.
He hugged her and rested his face upon the top of her head. He caressed her back to comfort her, to make her feel safe, to let her know that she could feel secure with him.
She timidly touched his chest and stuttered, "I ... I'm ... I don't want to be afraid."
"There's no need to be afraid. I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do."
"I ... want to do everything. With you. You're different. You're ... majestic."
He laughed for a moment. "Majestic! Wow! That's one I never heard before."
Squeezing him tightly, she said, "Don't laugh at me. Please? I'm ... new at this."
"You mean, you've never had a man before? Ever?"
"Yes, I've had men before but not this way. This is so forbidden. So dangerous. I don't believe I'm really doing this."
"Say, I think you ought to loosen up a little bit. You're still nervous as can be."
"I know!"
"Look. See what I've got for you?" He politely got her to sit up so he could drag the blanket away from his lap. "I guess you can't see it very well, Dori, but it's there. And it's yours, if you want it."
"Mine?"
"Yes ... to do with it what you want."
"Can I?"
"Of course! That's what it's there for. Touch it, Don. Relax and let yourself explore. That's what I want you to do. Because it can make you happy. And it can give you lots of pleasure. That's the name of the game, isn't it? To make each other feel good? To feel good together?"
"Oh, Jon."
"Go on. Touch it." He groped around in the darkness and found her hands with his. He lowered them where Dori had no choice but to hold onto his cock.
"Oh, Jon! Oh, my God!"
"See? It doesn't hurt you to do that. It should feel good to you. There's nothing to be ashamed of. It's part of me and it's part of life. Isn't it?"
"Yes! Oh, God, it's beautiful! And strong! It's so strong, Jon!"
He was happy. The shack was just a short distance away, and he would save all their fucking until they got there. But now he wanted her mouth on him. He wanted his cock gorging her sweet face. He wanted to give her all the excitement and pleasure she so rarely had.
She was getting acquainted with his peter real well. Holding her hands around it. Massaging it to the point of actually jerking him off slowly. And rubbing the warm, sweaty palm of her hand all over the cockhead.
Jon reached down and got Dori to move her hands from his organ to his balls. "Play with them," he whispered. And then he pressed down on her head to coax her into eating his meat.
She resisted at first, but Jon couldn't let her retreat now. He needed her lips around him much too much. So he pressed her head down more firmly until she let out a frightened squeak and bowed down to his groin, gulping several inches of his dick into her mouth.
"Ooooh," he moaned and affectionately stroked her hair. "God, that's good, Dori! You do that, baby. You suck on that big stick till your heart's content."
And was she sucking him beautifully. Expertly. There was no doubt in his mind that Dori was no newcomer to the sport of sex. She had to have eaten lots of dicks in her day to be able to devour his as sensationally as she was. No girl could swallow so much of Jon's tool without having been broken in first by smaller ones, by learning all about the craft before now. And he was happy.
The rain was crashing on the car so loudly that he couldn't distinguish the sounds of water outside from the sounds of Dori slurping and sloshing her mouth all over his cock. But he knew she was really making a meal for herself, really going to town.
As her head bobbed steadily, almost mechanically up and down-Jon held her face loosely between his hands and wove his fingers around and around the insides of her ears. Her face felt so warm. Her appetite seemed so insatiable. He relaxed even further when he noticed her settling more comfortably between his legs-as though she was planning to suck his dick for hours.
And that would be all right with him. Only he wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to repress his orgasm. The ticklish, tingling, electrifying thrill was carrying him farther and farther away into oblivion. What he wanted to do was shoot his wad right now and then have her go back down on him again. Either that or take her into the shack for some frenzied, out-and-out fucking.
"Dori ... Dori, darling ... Dori? I think I'm gonna fire off. Dori? Oh, God, Dori!"
His climax was rushing closer and closer. And the added pleasure she was giving him by fiercely rolling his balls around and around certainly wasn't helping him to keep from shooting his juice right there on the spot. She twisted his nuts and pulled them hard and mashed them up against the base of his cock.
And then he knew how impossible it was for him to postpone the ultimate pleasure anymore. He grimaced and hit his head back against the window. His right leg stiffened straight out like a board and he curled his toes tightly.
"Dori! I'm coming! Dori! Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Christ Almighty! I'm coming! Doreee! Shit! Oh, my God! Fuck! Oh, Dori! Oh, baby! Oh, Lord!"
And then it was over. What juice his cock was still spewing was because the girl wouldn't stop sucking him. She kept gliding her lips up and down his shaft and kept drinking every drop of his syrup as she could drain from the mammoth prick.
"Dori!" he laughed, "Stop already! Dori!" He laughed again. "Don't! That's driving me crazy! Dori! Please!"
Finally, she relinquished his meat and slowly sat up, obviously trying her best to catch her breath. And he didn't blame her for being exhausted. She had worked hard and had really gotten involved-just the way he hoped. There was nothing naive about this chick. Nothing he would have to teach her.
"Oh, Dori, that was fabulous?'
"Was it okay?" she shyly asked.
"Okay? No, it wasn't okay. It was fantastic! God, you do that beautifully."
"Thanks."
"I really mean it. I haven't had a blowjob like that in I-don't-know-how-long."
"A blow-job. Is that what you call it?"
"Hey, don't be angry with me. That's just an expression. Hey! Dori!"
"There's the shack."
What was she doing? Telling him to get lost? Just because he called a blow-job a blow-job?
"Dori, what's the matter? Why are you upset all of a sudden? Dori?"
"It's nothing."
"Yes, it is, and I want to know."
"You wouldn't understand."
He was right. These country girls couldn't even suck dick without turning it into some great big, goddamned emotional trauma. He angrily opened the door. One thing he didn't have time for was a broad who didn't even know her own mind.
"Jon!"
"What is it?" he said, standing out in the rain.
"Come back inside."
"Why? To play games with you?"
"You'll catch pneumonia out there."
"Fuck your pneumonia!"
"Jon! Please!"
He mimicked her girlish, melodramatic insistence. "Jon, please! Well, why are you suddenly so fucking cold to me? What did you expect me to say? That I'm madly in love with you now? That I can't live without you? You gave me a blow-job, Dori, and that's nothing more than calling a spade a spade. I don't want to stay here and watch you pity yourself, just because you ate some cock and happen to have loved it."
"Jon, come in here and close the door for a moment."
He did. "Now I'm soaking wet again." He picked the blanket up off the floor and draped it over his shoulders like he always did after a swimming meet.
"Jon, it's not you I'm upset with. You just don't understand. I loved it. I enjoyed it. There was nothing wrong with it. I've never loved anything like that more than I did just now."
"Bully for you."
"And that's what I'm trying to tell you. That it was different for me this time. That it was like a whole new experience. I never thought it could be so much fun. Don't you see? Don't you see what I'm trying to tell you? I've been wrong all these years. I was always scared of it before. I always thought it was wrong to be involved with a boy that way ... until you were married. I've done things like this before, but I never really enjoyed it. Do you know what I mean?"
"I know what you mean."
"I did it because ... well ... every girl wants to do it. But this! This is the first time I really felt good about it."
"Well, get one thing straight, Dori. And I'm not trying to say this to hurt your feelings. But I'm trying to get away from problems right now, not find new ones."
"I know, Jon."
"So if you have any ideas that I'm going to babysit for you, then you can put such notions right out of your pretty little head."
"I understand."
"Because I told you before, and I'll tell you again. The idea is for us to enjoy each other's company for what short time we have together. Now if there's anything you want to do, fine. But if there's anything you don't want to do, then that's fine, too. Nobody's forcing you to do anything."
"This is so free! This is so open! It's so different from anything I've ever known before! I feel good about it! I feel that everybody who's had anything to tell me has been so wrong! So awfully wrong!"
"Well, just don't expect me to pat your hand every time you come out of your shell. It seems kind of ridiculous for you to expect me to congratulate you for sucking my cock. I don't mean to be crude, Dori, but that's exactly what you wanted me to do just a few minutes ago. Congratulate you and babysit and pat your hand."
Suddenly, Dori started honking the horn.
"What the hell are you doing?" Jon said.
I'm happy! That's all! I'm happier than I've been in a long time. And do you know why?"
"No, why?"
"Because you were there and I picked you up."
"Yeah, well, just don't go honking the horn every time you feel happy. You'll have the whole state of Maine out here. Them or some wild moose."
"I'm crazy about you, Jon. Do you know what this is doing? This is changing my whole life!"
"Do they have a fireplace in that shack?"
"Yes."
He did a double-take even though he couldn't see her in the darkness. "You've probably been to this cabin with lots of guys, haven't you?"
"None like you, Jon," she said, scooting across the seat toward him and throwing her arms around his neck. "Nobody near as beautiful and fantastic as you."
"Do you mind if we unpack our suitcases? I'm getting cold out here."
"Jon?"
"What."
"Jon ... when we get inside...."
She hesitated. "When we get inside, what?" he asked.
"Can I ... can I...."
"Can you what? Come on, Dori. I'm freezing."
"Can I give you another blowjob?"
"Another ... no. Not until we've done some other things."
She ran after him all the way to the shack.
CHAPTER THREE
One result Jon knew he was definitely achieving by spending so much time with Dori was that being with her kept him from having to think about his sister. So long as he was with Dori, so long as they stayed busy making love and getting to know one another, he was safe. He wouldn't have time to worry about Roz and her incestuous ways and all the problems that were now associated with her. The farther he could keep his sister out of his mind, the happier he knew he would be.
He still couldn't get over it-how Roz had played with his compassion, had titillated him with her flesh, had seduced him into lying naked with her. He cringed and almost became violent every time he thought about it, every time he remembered how she had deceived him into jerking-off. How she had sunk her mouth over his hot pecker. He would never forgive her for that. He wasn't even sure if he would ever be able to forgive himself.
He was lucky to have Dori now-even for just a short while. Dori may have been peculiar and a little more uptight about sex than he would have preferred, but at least she wasn't his sister, and at least she seemed willing enough to have some good clean fun.
Jon built a little fire in the hearth and secured some flattened cardboard boxes, which had been lying around the sloppy shack, against the windows so that the flickering light from the fire couldn't be seen from the road.
The shack was dirty and its roof leaked in ten or twelve places, but Jon and Dori made themselves a little bed with the blanket near the fire.
Jon was the first to crawl under the covers, and he watched Dori as she shyly undressed. Much to his surprise and much to his pleasure, Dori was considerably more beautiful without her clothes than Jon had imagined. Her body was child-like and exquisite in every detail, every feature. Almost Oriental in quality, he thought. Almost like a nymph's.
And she was impeccably proportioned too. Her tits weren't the jolly, slap 'em-around type that Jon had gotten used to in the past year, but they were fascinating and wonderfully appealing in their own right. They might not even be size thirty-fives, he thought, but he sure wanted to get his hands on them. He hadn't touched boobs in days.
Dori turned her back on him and slipped out of her panties. The orange flames from the fire cast a warm glow on her skin-skin that looked as creamy and smooth as any Jon had seen. And the rest of her body was so slender, except for her shapely ass, that Jon was beginning to get very restless from the desire to hold her closely.
Lightning from the storm lit up the whole shack for a few seconds, and then loud crackling thunder sent Dori scurrying toward the blanket, toward shelter, toward Jon.
He cuddled her in his arms and secured the blanket over both of them. He nestled his face against hers and wiggled around until his cock lay snugly along her cunt.
What he really wanted to do was sleep. He had come twice that night so far, and although that was by no means the limit of his sexual stamina, he still preferred to get some rest before fucking Dori.
He thought she would never leave him alone, however. Every time Jon hugged her tightly to make her calm down and relax, Dori simply wriggled more excitedly and found new areas of his body to caress and titillate.
"Honey, will you cool it?" he begged.
"Oh, Jon! I feel so wonderful lying next to you like this."
"But I'm tired, Dori. I've got so much on my mind. Can't we wait until morning? I promise you ... if we wait until morning, I'll screw you all you want. Is that fair enough?"
"If that's the way it has to be, then that's what I'll have to be happy with."
"Please, honey, rest now and later we'll fuck." Holding this pretty little country girl next to him, feeling her warmth and the warmth from the fire, and listening to the falling rain-all helped Jon to fall fast asleep. Even when Dori played with him and massaged various parts of his body, he was still able to keep from waking up entirely. Sleep felt good and so did getting away from his problems.
In the middle of the night, however, he finally did awaken when Dori was moving around too clumsily. It didn't take Jon long to discover what she was doing. Dori was scooting back and forth-trying to lodge Jon's cock up her cunt. She had hold of his balls and was trying to slip down over his throbbing pecker.
"Dori," he moaned with annoyance, "what the hell are you doing? I'm trying to sleep."
"I'm not trying to keep you from sleeping, Jon. I just want to fill myself with this spectacular monument of yours."
Jon knew she was serious. He felt the passionate heat radiating full blast from her pussy, and her juices were lubricating his dick like no other cunt he had ever known. Just then, Dori impaled herself completely upon his rod. She gorged herself with it right up to his balls-and that woke him up abruptly.
His dick felt so good in her cunt. He couldn't help but start pumping it in and out with frenzied anticipation of a grand and glorious climax. Dori was like a wild little fanatic, wiggling uncontrollably, clawing and biting Jon one moment, kissing and petting him the next.
Jon flipped her over on her back and mounted her from above. He reared backwards and plunged into her with all his might. Dori screamed half painfully, half ecstatically. She couldn't seem to decide whether she should pull herself away from him or thrust herself firmly up against him.
Ignoring all her protestations and pleas for mercy, Jon hammered away at her like a madman. He wanted to fuck her, fuck her hard, get to his climax as expeditiously as possible, and then get back to sleep.
"Jon!" she cried, pulling her hair. "What are you doing? Oh, my God! Jon! Jon! JON!"
"Fucking you, baby. That's what you want, isn't it?"
"Yes! Oh, God, yes! But so angrily! Why so angrily, Jon? Why so ... so ... oh!"
"I'm not angry," he said, plowing into her rapidly. "I want you to come. Do you think you're going to come?"
Dori let out a yell that scared Jon half to death. He stopped for a second, poised with his dick deeply imbedded within her. Dori shivered spasmodically beneath him, and he wondered if everything was all right. Whether he was hurting her or not.
"Oh, Jon! This is the most wonderful feeling I've ever had!"
"Good." And then he continued screwing.
He felt her dainty little tits against his chest and felt her legs kicking and sprawling underneath his. She was a good fuck, he thought, whether she knew it or not. He loved chicks who lost their minds over his love-making. He loved to see chicks suffer from wanting more and more of him, to see chicks sweat, to see them recklessly gyrate, to hear them beg for more.
He rammed into her as powerfully as he could, holding his weight up by his fists. She was like an insect on a pin beneath him. The harder he fucked her, the louder and more breathlessly she groaned.
Finally, Jon couldn't contain himself any longer. He wanted to come, and he wanted to come insanely. He kept his cock buried deep inside her hot wet pussy and worked it in and out with short brief strokes. He felt it swelling larger and larger within the confines of her young twat and then felt it ready to explode. He withdrew one last time and mashed it into her with all his strength. He froze. His powerful dick quaked and vibrated as he held it steady inside her, and then it violently spewed all his seed into her.
Dori screamed and cried and tried to catch her breath. She wrapped her arms so tightly around Jon's neck that she brought all his weight down upon her. Her hips bounced up and down and her whole body wriggled from head to toe. Jon knew she was coming.
Neither had any trouble falling asleep after that. And when they awakened in the morning, the storm had passed, the sun was shining, and they made love again.
"I want to thank you," Jon said, getting out of her car not far from where she had picked him up the night before. "It was really good."
"You'll take care of yourself, won't you, Jon?"
"Yes, and what about you?"
"I'll live. My parents are going to be madder than the dickens at me, but I'll live. It was worth it. I enjoyed your company immensely."
"And I yours."
"Good luck with whatever it is you said you had to do with your family."
"Thanks, Dori, and good luck to you. And remember. No more hangups about what you want to do. If there's anything you want to do, do it. You may not have another chance. And if there's anything you don't want to do, then put it out of your mind. But decide. And enjoy yourself."
"Goodbye, Jon."
He closed the door, waved to her and smiled, and watched her drive away down the road. Being with Dori had been nice, and a strong suggestion in his mind told him that it wouldn't be a bad idea to keep going, to seek out and find other new adventures, hitchhike and get picked up by other broads.
But duty called. A sense of responsibility. After all, he decided, his family was his family, and he couldn't just blithely walk away from them-no matter how horrible their problems were. He was convinced that Rosanne needed him. That she was unable to take care of herself. That their father had done her wrong, and now it was his responsibility to help her out of the gloomy trap into which she had fallen.
Flinging his dungaree jacket over his shoulder, he began , walking down the side road with a sense of seriousness, with a feeling of going toward something meaningful. Running away from Rosanne could lead him toward a lot of fun, but he couldn't let that happen. He couldn't forsake her in a time of turmoil just for his own pleasure. He had to be adult. He had to accept facts as they were and do his best to bring an end to whatever problem was poisoning his sister.
For no matter how far lost Rosanne seemed to him, she could never be so far gone that she couldn't be brought back with a little bit of love. With a little bit of care.
Rosanne was busily packing her suitcases when Jon stepped up to the door of her room upstairs. She was startled to see him but kept right on packing-grabbing things from a bureau drawer and throwing them into an opened suitcase on the bed.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"What does it look like?"
"Looks like you're packing."
"Smart boy!" she sarcastically said.
Jon couldn't argue with her for feeling upset. He was upset, too, about what they did the day before. But in a different way. He was upset and willing to rectify the situation. Rosanne seemed simply upset.
He hung his coat on the doorknob and took off his T-shirt because the rain had shrunk it so much that it fit very uncomfortably. He wiped his mouth and leaned against the doorjamb.
"Why are you doing that?" he asked.
"Why do you think?"
"I don't know. That's why I asked."
"Well, put two and two together for once in your life."
"Yeah, well, I'm land of fuzzy right now, so my addition isn't too swift. Why don't you help me out and stop all the riddles?"
Rosanne closed the suitcase, testing to see whether or not there was room for more things. There was. She resumed packing. "Why are you fuzzy? You stay out all night whoring with some girl?"
"You might call it that."
Rosanne nodded her head. "Uh-uh. It figures. I could have guessed as much."
"You still haven't answered my question. Why are you packing?"
"Because I've changed my mind about spending the whole summer here with my family. Does that answer your question?"
"What do you think?"
"I think you better get your cotton-pickin' ass out of my room. That's what I think."
But Jon did just the opposite. He strolled forward and flopped down on a big armchair she had in the comer. Rosanne's room was a lot different than his, of course. Very feminine. And Jon liked it in a way. He felt unusually strong being surrounded by so many pink and white things, so many dainty things, so many frilly and lacy things. He ignored Rosanne's scornful glances and stretched out his legs.
"I guess you didn't hear what I said," Rosanne remarked.
"I heard."
"Then why aren't you doing anything about it?"
"Because I came back."
"No kidding! I never would have known."
"To talk."
"Well, Momma and Daddy will be here in a couple of days. You'll have plenty of company to talk to."
"If you go, I go."
"If you go, I go. Now what kind of nonsense is that supposed to be? I'm going, Jon, but I'm going alone ... just what I should have done years ago."
"You're staying if I have to make you stay."
"Oh, will you knock it off? You sound like such a moron sometimes. You're not going to force me to do anything, Jon. Now get that through your head." He stood up and raised his leg to plant his foot on the armrest. "Roz, I could have walked and walked until I got all the way back to Hartford. But I didn't. I decided to turn around and come back."
'Tour mistake, not mine."
"Nobody's mistake. I didn't want to leave you in this mess."
Rosanne laughed gaily but with a suggestion of pathos. "Oh, Jon, you're so dumb. Will you get out of this room before I have to start throwing things at you? What do you think I am? Made of some sort of metallic chrome that you can keep bombarding me with all that shit? I told you, Jon ... I don't want to talk about what happened yesterday anymore. I feel bad enough as it is without you bringing it up again every two seconds."
"I was as much at fault as you."
"Christ, you never learn, do you?" She closed the suitcase again, but the bedsprings made locking it very difficult. The suitcase kept bouncing up every time she pushed down on it.
Jon walked over to the bed and shut it for her. Then he picked it up and sat it down on the floor. "Satisfied?"
"I'll never be satisfied," she said, "about anything. That's the way I am."
Rebelliously, Jon grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him. Rosanne was shocked.
"I love you, Rosanne. That's what I want you to understand."
"Let go of my shoulders."
"I can't stand to see you miserable this way."
"Let go of me, I said!" And she swung back and slapped him hard against his face. "If this wasn't so ludicrous ... if this wasn't so ugly and filthy and appalling ... I'd laugh. I'd laugh, Jon, to make you eat those words.
Jon turned away and rubbed his face. Rosanne stepped up behind him and touched him lightly. "Honey, why don't you start listening to me? Why won't you take my advice and leave me alone? I'm bad for you, Jon. I'm bad for you, honey, and I'm bad for myself. Can't you see that? I don't want to slap you. Why do you keep persisting to the point where I have to slap some sense into you? Isn't it bad enough that one of us is fucked up? Can't at least one of us stay clean and sane? Do you have to go off the deep end just because I am?"
Slowly and with great patience, Jon turned around. He had already been feeling the passion and desire swelling up inside of him; and the more sinful and lonely he felt, the stronger was his lust. The more depressed and lost he felt, the greater was his ambition to overcome his fear. To overcome his depression. To conquer his loneliness.
Sweat dripped from his face. His lips burned. And his whole body ached. For the first time in his life, he was afraid that his bones were rotting. That his muscles had all snapped. A slight movement in the wrong way could cripple him for life, he thought.
He was scared and he knew it. His trembling fingers reached out and touched Rosanne's terrycloth robe, and she didn't move. She gazed into his eyes wonderingly, apprehensively, longingly.
Jon nervously hooked his thumb under the lapel of her robe, steadying his eyes on what he was doing, and gradually pulled her robe open. He pushed one side of her robe all the way off her shoulder, revealing one of Rosanne's hefty protruding breasts.
His eyes zeroed in on the nipple, the pointed erect nipple. He thought about one thing and one thing only-how much he wanted to press his lips against it. To feel its rigid pointedness. To lick it and chew it. To press his whole face against the healthiest, most beautiful breast he had ever seen.
He was breathing heavily through his nostrils but couldn't help himself. Couldn't get the idea of fucking Rosanne out of his mind. Couldn't command his eyes to look away.
"Jon?"
Her voice was soft. Distant. Weak. Muted by miles of danger and disaster. Unimportant.
"Jon? Do you know what you're doing?"
His legs gave way and he collapsed on the floor, banging his knees hard against the wood. He tossed her robe completely open with both hands, and without looking, smothered his face against her cunt. He held his arms around her so tightly that Rosanne almost lost her balance. He choked back whatever suffering he was about to cough up from his throat-and breathed deeply the mesmerizing odors from between her legs.
Rosanne touched his head with her hands. "Jon, don't do this. Jon?"
He was unable to pull his face away from her groin, but he was able to speak. He was able to say at least something. "I need you, Rosanne. I ... need ... you."
Rosanne's lips quivered as though she too were afraid to speak. "Fool. Damned fool."
Jon wheezed in a deep breath and slowly got to his feet. He stood taller than she now and held her face with both his hands. "Goddammit, I love you, Rosanne. Isn't that a bitch? I love you."
"Jon, don't be ridiculous. Don't, baby."
But they both leaned toward each other and kissed until they were lying on the bed together.
CHAPTER FOUR
Rosanne's long soft hair was splayed upon the bed. She spread one of her hands delicately over a breast-her slim index finger poised with dignity in the air. Her other hand concealed her pussy. The blue bathrobe lay open beneath her.
"Jon, are you sure?"
Jon wasn't feeling sure about anything, least of all, the morality of what he was doing. Or lack of it, as the case may be. The only fact about which he was remotely sure was that he was dying to sink his craving hardon into his sister's lovely, accessible cunt. That was all he wanted. He didn't want any debates or any soul-searching or any postponements. As tired as he was and as sexually exhausted as he normally might feel, he still knew he had enough spunk left in him for one good fuck with Rosanne.
"We better think twice," she said.
Jon was in no mood to think twice or think anything. So far as he was concerned, the worst had been done. Rosanne had already slipped her hungry mouth over his big pecker, and that one act put an immediate end to one period of their life and christened another.
Jon sat on the edge of the bed and stripped off his pants, freeing his cock to fly upward, slap his stomach, stand tall and ready for action. He quickly reached out and caught his sister's arm when she turned to leave the bed. He crawled toward her and wrapped his arms around her-one arm over her slender, sunken abdomen; the other over her gorgeous thighs. He bowed his head and pressed his hot face against her furry twat. He shook and rotated his head there to feel her damp cunt with his nose and mouth.
Rosanne didn't seem to protest seriously. She raised her head so she could watch Jon at her groin, but all she said was, "Jon, I don't think we better. It's what I wanted yesterday, but today, I'm not so sure."
What was the sense in arguing with her, he wondered. He was going to fuck her, and that's all there was to it. He was lonely without her and bored. With her he was an entirely different man. And he wanted her in every way possible. He would finish what she had started.
He was breathing heavily now, losing whatever last bit of control he had over himself. He brushed his face up her skinny belly and filled his hand with one of her luscious breasts. As his cock slid along the bed and along her terrycloth robe, it became evident to him that it wouldn't take him long to shoot at all this time. He was ready to come now and he hadn't even inserted himself yet.
"Oh, Jon!" Rosanne was enraptured-gasping, shaking her head rhythmically, rummaging her hands through her brother's bushy hair, squeezing his muscular shoulders with all her might.
"God, you're beautiful," he groaned. "I've never seen anything like it."
"Jon, it's so wrong."
"I love these tits."
"You don't know what you're saying. You don't know what you're doing."
He climbed over her and swung his balls so they would tickle her cunt and slap her thighs. Then he aimed his peckerhead at her pussy and lightly pressed it harder against the twin lips.
Rosanne tried once more to escape, but her own apparent lack of determination and Jon's strong arms kept her from moving. Jon knew only one thing-that this was the girl he felt closer to than anyone, that this girl's body was more sexually fantastic than any he had ever seen in real life. He hated to do it. He hated to plummet that huge dick into her. But the more he despised himself, the closer he came to ramming his cock full force up her beautiful channel.
Rosanne said, "Don't, Jon! Please, darling! It's one thing to play around like kids. But it's another to do this. We won't be able to erase this. Once we do it, it's done. Don't you understand? Nobody can turn back time."
He had heard enough. His dick was throbbing so spastically, and his need to start fucking was so overwhelming, that he shut his eyes-the tears of anguish and pity now streaming down his face-and plowed his big piston into her all the way. He raised his head and arched his back and let out a wild grunt.
Rosanne screamed so loudly that Jon had to look down and see if she were all right. He had fucked many broads who just couldn't handle his giant pecker without hurting themselves. But Rosanne was all right. Just a little bit nervous and frightened, he thought. But she would be all right once she settled down and relaxed with this new bulk inside her, stretching her walls and filling her completely with hot male sex.
From experience, Jon knew it was better to wait until a girl eased her muscular tension before he started really fucking. Rosanne cried out and seemed to be trying her best to get control of herself. To accept what was happening. To enjoy the fulfillment.
"Rosanne?" he breathlessly whispered. "Are you all right?"
"I hate you for this, Jon. I hate you. But it feels wonderful. Better than anything like it. I love it, Jon. I love it."
He smirked and withdrew his cock a few inches. Rosanne reacted with surprise and gasped, "Oh, oh, oh!" And then he plunged himself into her again-all the way up to his rocks.
"Oh, God, Jon! This is driving me mad!"
"Good." He breathed in deeply though his nostrils, and his respiration sounded like that of someone who had a cold, a sinus condition. He was that vexed and horny.
Rosanne did her best to look him straight in the eye. "It isn't right. You know that, Jon."
"Shut up." He leaned down and kissed her until he thought she would cut his lips with her teeth. He fucked her while they kissed and made no attempt to prolong what he expected might be the greatest orgasm of his life.
Rosanne was falling into the mood of the moment. She raised her legs in the air and rocked her hips in unison with Jon's steady fucking. He kept ramming her with all his strength and relaxed all his weight upon her. His chest mashed her boobs. He dug his toes into the mattress, stretched his legs until he thought his tendons would split apart, and screwed as deeply into her cunt as his prick would go. He even reached down and spread her opening with his hands, and then he found the riding smoother. Freer.
Rosanne hugged him fiercely and grabbed his face with trembling hands. "Oh, Jon, I'm crazy about you!"
"You like it?"
"I hate you, Jon!"
"Does it feel good? The way you like it?"
"I hate you!"
"You do, don't you?"
"YES! GODDAMMIT! YES!"
They kissed and fucked until Rosanne begged him to slow down. And then he altered their positions and fucked some more. He lay down on his back and made Rosanne sit on his-lap. He bounced up and down on the bed and watched his cock slip in and out as easily as it pleased. Rosanne was having a ball, and that made him happy. She was really getting carried away. Her arms were waving in the air. Her head was shaking. Her whole body swayed and wiggled above him as though she were concentrating on wild music.
Rosanne fuck-danced so vigorously that Jon's burning dick snapped out of her cunt once, and that seemed to upset her more than it did him. She panicked, groped around hastily for it, and grabbed it with both hands-digging her fingernails into the hard flesh up and down the shaft. Jon squirmed with pain but relaxed when he felt the comforting wet warmth of her oily pussy again. He watched as she crammed all of his cock up into herself. He smiled when she started hopping up and down on him again.
"Ooooh ... Jon, baby. I hate you for this, hut it feels so good, honey. It feels so right. Wow!" She laughed and massaged her scalp with her arms in the air-as playfully and proudly as a child riding down the street on her bicycle with no hands for the first time.
Jon couldn't take his eyes off her. She looked so fabulous up there, going wild, losing her mind, enjoying every deep plunge of his gigantic hardon. He was sweating all over and she was sweating. It looked as though Rosanne could be fucked for hours, but Jon's time was rapidly running out. He knew his climax was quaking more and more fiercely inside him, and he knew the moment would he coming soon.
He held her hips with his hands and felt her body rising and falling between them. His nuts tightened and he thought Rosanne's lovely ass would crack them like eggs with her forceful fucking.
"Roz? Roz? This ... is ... it. Roz! Rosanne! Oh, my God! ROSANNE!"
He shot his full fresh load and thrashed about spastically, kicking his legs, shaking his head so hard that his neck almost sprained, biting his lip hard and then letting out an ecstatic yell that could have scared the birds' out of their trees outside. His cock kept pumping the jism into her.
Rosanne didn't stop bouncing. He guessed she was working hard to come too. But the feeling he got from having his dick fucked long after he had come was joyously frustrating and weird enough for him to want to ask her to quit. He could finish her off by fingerfucking, he thought.
But Rosanne soon gave up on her own. She climbed off him, obviously thoroughly exhausted, and ran off the bed toward the door. Jon tried to catch her hand but he was too late. She hurried out of the room. He could hear her bare feet running down the hall. And then he heard the bathroom door shut.
He sure hoped she was all right. He was all right. He knew that. He hadn't felt better in a long time. Even fucking Dori couldn't compare to fucking Rosanne. If there was one thing he liked in his women, it was style and maturity.
And screwing Rosanne was different because she was Rosanne. He loved his sister and needed her and wanted to help her and longed for her love. What would happen now, he told himself, was anybody's guess. Whatever happened now would be an improvement because they shared the ultimate. They made a commitment. They were locked in together.
He got up and went to the hallway. "Roz?" No answer. "Roz? Baby?" He walked farther down the hall and knocked on the bathroom door. "Baby?"
He heard water running and tried to decide what to do.
"Roz, I just want to know if you're all right. Is everything okay? Come on, Roz. Why won't you answer me?"
Slowly, he opened the door. She was standing at the sink, back to him, still wearing her blue bathrobe. When she turned reluctantly around, tears were streaming down her face. Ordinary weeping gave way to forceful crying, and she fell forward against him. Jon hugged her securely and stroked her hair, rocking her gently and trying to comfort her as much as possible. Rosanne held him tightly and rubbed her face all over his bare chest.
"Oh, Jon," she moaned, pulling herself slightly away from him. "What are we going to do? What are we going to do?"
"Take care of each other. Make each other happy." She broke out into tears again and embraced him once more. Her voice was so corrupted by her hoarse crying that it sounded like a man's for a moment. "What have I done?" she said. "What in God's name have I done?'
"You haven't done anything," he said. "It's what we've done. I'm in this now as much as you."
"But whose fault do you think this is? Yours? This isn't your fault, Jon, honey. It's mine. This is all my fault."
"Now's no time for us to be thinking about whose fault what is and whose fault what isn't. Come on downstairs. I want to fix you a drink."
"In a minute. I have to do something here first." She stepped back and crudely wiped her nose and face with her sleeve. She sniffled but the sound was more like a loud snore, and they both laughed. Jon was grateful for the levity.
Jon .left her alone and went downstairs. He mixed two margaritas and reclined on the sofa. Rosanne joined him in a few minutes-this time wearing nothing except a silk shirt, one with tails long enough to at least perfunctorily cover her pussy and ass. She stood by the sofa and held Jon's hand.
"How do I look?" she asked, smiling though her eyes were bloodshot.
"Sensational. No wonder you had such problems with your boyfriends. You probably drove them all berserk."
"Not hardly."
"Not hardly, my eye. You almost drove me berserk. But now you're mine." He slipped his hand under her shirttail and gave her buttocks a good squeeze.
"That was good upstairs," she said. "I enjoyed that."
"Well, there's more where that came from, but not right now, baby."
"Why not right now?"
"Because I'm tired. Exhausted."
Rosanne sat down on his lap, and although her ass felt good there, Jon asked her to readjust herself slightly so that his cock wouldn't get mashed against his balls. Her breast was plainly visible through the opening of her shirt.
"Exhausted?" she said rather flippantly. "Why should you be so exhausted? I thought virile young men like you could fuck for days on end without getting tired."
"Oh, is that what you thought?" he asked, folding his arms under his head and smiling.
"That's what I thought."
"Just goes to show how wrong you can be."
'Where's my drink? I thought you said...."
He reached down to the floor and brought up their drinks. "Cheers."
She touched her glass to his and sipped. "Did you have a girl last night?"
"Yes."
"No wonder you're tired."
"You aren't jealous, are you?"
"Maybe."
"Rosanne?"
"What."
"We're going to have to be careful, you know. This is a dangerous route we're taking."
I know. And it worries me. Do you think we'll be able to hide this from Mother and Daddy?"
Do I think we can hide this? Baby, we're going to have to hide this. If anybody gets wind of what we're doing, it's the noose for both of us."
"Why? What can they do to us?"
"What can they do to us! Roz, they have laws against this sort of thing. Strict laws. We could both go to jail."
"Don't say that."
"What do you mean, don't say that? It's true."
"I know it's true. That's why I don't want you to say that. I'm getting scared already."
"Well, I don't think we have to worry about anything yet. So far, nobody knows and nobody's going to know, not if we can help it."
"Well, they aren't going to hear about it from me," she said. "I'd sooner cut my wrists than to let word of this out."
"Roz, do you think it'll work? I mean, do you think we can really make this work? Sleeping together and all that?"
"I don't know about sleeping together, Jon. It'd be a little hard sleeping together with Mother and Daddy in the house. In fact, you know something? I don't even think we ought to mess around at all in the house after they get here."
"Too dangerous," he agreed.
"Dam right, it's too dangerous."
"We'll have to go down to the ocean or out in the woods ... places like that."
"Yes."
"And then we can he together."
"Come on, Jon. Can't we take our drinks upstairs and lie in bed together some more?"
"I'm tired, Roz. I'm tired. I could sleep all afternoon."
"Well, you better get ideas like that out of your mind. Don't forget, honey, we have gobs of work to do before the royal couple gets here."
"Work. If I'm too tired to fuck, how do you expect me to be able to work?"
She didn't answer. She sipped her drink, crossed her legs, and was about to speak when Jon flinched from the new pressure against his nuts. Rosanne said, "I'm sorry, hon," and relocated herself on the floor. She sat next to the sofa, facing Jon, and steadied her cold drink on his naked thigh.
"Jon?"
"What, baby."
"I hope you aren't sorry about this. About what's happened."
Sorry? No, I'm not sorry. It wouldn't do me any good to be sorry at this late stage of the game."
"I mean, what started out as just a little peculiar fun-"
"Peculiar, I'll say."
"Has turned into something entirely else."
"Yep."
I m really happy about it," she reassured him. "I'm not saying I m not. But I feel kind of responsible.
Kind of guilty. My own little brother. Who would have ever thought."
"Yeah, who would have ever thought. Nobody had better have thought, that's who. Christ, when I think about what would happen to us if anybody ever-"
"Jon, let's not say things like that. Please? Didn't you say we shouldn't worry about things now? Please, honey, it scares the daylights out of me to think about what other people might say."
"Are we going to stay together then?" he asked.
"Stay together?"
"Yeah, I mean after the summer."
"You mean after we go back to Hartford?"
"Yeah."
"I don't know, Jon. I'm supposed to go away to school this fall. They accepted me down in Florida. I'm supposed to start in September."
"That's what I mean, Roz. Are we going to be able to still be together? Am I going to be able to come down there with you, or is this all finished after we leave the summerhouse?"
"Oh, Jon, I don't know. I don't know. Who knows about things like that." She bowed and rubbed her face all over his organs. "Don't ask me things like that."
"Hey, Rosanne. Don't get upset. Don't worry about a thing, baby. I'm not going to leave you."
"Don't say things like that, Jon. You don't know what the future holds."
"I know one thing it holds. We're going to stay together, baby, if it's the last thing we do."
'It's insane, isn't it?" she asked, looking up.
"But I need you, Roz. I need you. And I want to have you with me all the time ... so I can look at you and help you and fuck you whenever you want me to."
"That's a fine how-do-you-do," she said, rocking back on the heels of her feet, setting her drink on the floor. "Who the hell thinks I need you to fuck me? I can get any guy in the world to fuck me if I wanted."
"That's just it. You don't want them, do you, Roz? You only want me. Don't you only want me?"
"Maybe," she casually said.
But he knew she was only kidding. He knew deep down inside how much she wanted only him. It went without saying. She never would have hied to turn him on in the first place if she wanted any other boy. "You do want only me, don't you, Rosanne?"
"What if I don't?" she asked, standing up, sipping her drink, beginning to walk around the sofa.
Jon sat up. "Don't kid around with me that way, Roz. Just answer yes or no."
"I'm not on trial."
"And don't start teasing me again."
"I don't have to go to bed with only you. I can go to bed with other guys if I want."
"But you don't want to, do you, Rosanne? Goddammit! I'm serious!" He stood up and felt all the muscles in his body tightening.
"You have no right to boss me around like that," she said. "I'm not your wife. You're not entitled to yell at me and make demands of me."
"Rosanne ... I'm warning you."
She smiled and traced her finger around the top of her glass. "Yes, Jon, I want only you. God help me for it, but it's true. I love starting something brand new for a change."
"Then tell me you love me."
"I'm not going to tell you any such thing. Not because I don't love you but because you have no right to make demands on me."
Advancing toward her, he said, "I have rights to make demands on you. I have a right to know whether you love me or not."
"Oh, Jon! You're acting so dumb again! Everything was going so well there for a moment. Of course, I love you, you stupid shit. Do you think I'd let you fuck me if I didn't? My own brother, for chrissake? And what's this talk about love? What's that got to do with anything?"
"What's that got to do with anything? That has a lot to do with everything!"
"Ha." She swilled down the rest of her drink. "That's just an excuse. That talk of love is just a way you're using for trying to get out of this whole thing."
"I don't want to get out of this, Rosanne!"
"Then don't pester me with riddles. Don't keep asking me whether I love you or not every two seconds."
'Well, just answer me then!"
"I answered you already! How many times do I have to answer the same question? You want me to paint it up on the wall? You want me to go in the basement and see if I can find any paint down there? So I can write I love Jon Williams all over the living room?" She waved her arm around in the air to demonstrate how large she would paint the sign.
"I think I'm a crazy idiot," he said, "f think I'm a fucking moron for getting into this with you."
"No, you're not, Jon. Only human. You're only human like the rest of us."
"Human? I don't feel human. I feel creepy."
"You look creepy."
"I what?'
"Well, look at you ... standing there with nothing on ... cock as limp as spaghetti."
"I don't believe you said that."
"May I have another?" she asked, holding her empty glass out for him.
He wanted to take the glass and smash it against the farthest wall. He wanted to smother the bathrobe over her head and punch the shit out of her face. He wanted to run again. He wanted to rush out of the house and run down the highway again.
He picked up the nearest thing, a porcelain lamp that hadn't been dusted in a year, and hurled it across the room.
"Nice going, Jon! Real smart! That was real smart!"
"Shut up!"
"What's Momma going to say about that?"
"You made me do that!"
"Boy, will she have a fit when I tell her about that! Do you know where that lamp came from? Do you?"
"You better not say one word to her about that lamp."
"From Grandma's."
"I don't care where it's from!"
"Of course not! You don't care about anything! You don't care about anything except where your next pussy's coming from, where you're going to shoot your wad the next time."
"Why, you lying whore."
She mimicked him. "Why you lying whore. Do you know what you sound like? A fucking cowboy in one of those movies."
"Do you know something, Rosanne? You make me sick!"
She laughed-like a witch standing on top of a mountain, he thought, about to zap a whole town far below. He could almost see the lightning and hear the thunder.
Rosanne raised her arm in the air and dropped her glass on the wooden floor. "There," she said. "Maybe you can clean that up the same time you clean up the mess you've made."
She turned to leave, but Jon couldn't let her go that way. He'd kill her if she left that way. He ran after her and grabbed her arm. He spun her around so fast that she was too horrified to fight back. He slapped her across the face one time, and then slapped her across the face again.
Rosanne glared at him hatefully. 'We seem to be spending a lot of our time slapping each other these days, Jon. Don't you ever do that again. Don't you ever touch me again! If you do anything like that again, I'll tell Daddy stories that'll put you away in jail for a hundred years! A hundred years! Do you hear me? Do you think I'm kidding? I'll ruin you!
He released her arm with a shove. "Tell me it isn't true, Rosanne. Tell me this is just a show."
"A show? What the hell's the matter with you? Do you think I'm playing? I'm not playing with you, Jon! I'll have your balls in Momma's meat grinder if you threaten me like that again."
"Rosanne, I can't believe it."
"I don't care what you can believe anymore. I'm sick of catering to what you can believe and what you can't. Do I love you? Do I want only you? Are we going to stay together? Wake up, Jon. This isn't any show, you fool. This is for real, honey, and it's for keeps."
"Rosanne...."
"And stop acting like such a baby. I'm twenty years old, you fool, and I'm your sister."
"My sister."
"And you can start doing what's right by getting the broom from the back porch and sweeping up the glass you've broken in here. We're both going to end up cutting our feet to shreds if you don't."
"My sister."
"Stop staring at me! Why are you staring at me?"
"Because you're...."
"Because I'm what? Screwed up?"
"Yes."
"That shouldn't be any secret to you by now."
"Very screwed up."
"Stop telling me how screwed up I am. What about you? Do you think you're such an angel with silver wings?"
"Rosanne, Rosanne, Rosanne."
"Listen, Jon, and listen carefully."
He turned around. He didn't even want to look at her. He couldn't look at her. He had met cunts in his life, but this one took the trophy. This one was not to be believed. Sick-that's what she was. Sick. And vicious. She almost made him puke. His own goddamn sister! That's why the whole mess was so intolerable. Rosanne was the witch on the mountain and she was his sister. He was right back where he had been the day before!
He collapsed on the sofa and shook his head, holding his hands over his ears, resting his elbows on his knees-leaning forward.
Rosanne came toward him. "I do love you, Jon, but I don't know how."
"NO! I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANYMORE!"
"You've got to hear. You've got to listen to me. You're my only hope, Jon, my only hope. Don't you know what that means to me?"
"SHUT UP! I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANYMORE!"
"You have to, honey," she explained, kneeling down on the floor in front of him. "You have to understand."
"I understand! Oh, I understand! I understand perfectly! I understand that you're a fucking, conniving bitch! And that all you're interested in is yourself! Your own sickly, cock-hungry self!"
"That's not true, Jon, and you know it."
"It is true," he said while trying to laugh. "It is true! That's why it's so funny!"
"I don't see anything funny."
"Of course, you don't! You can't see how absurd this is. How we've been talking about love but doing just the opposite."
"I don't follow you."
"You can't follow me!"
"Jon, I want to explain something to you."
"I don't want you to explain anything to me. I just want you to get up and leave me alone. Oh, I'll keep all this a secret, all right. Letting anybody else in on what's going on between us would be pure suicide. That dumb, I'm not. Dumb enough to get mixed up with you in the first place ... that dumb, I am. But I'm not dumb enough to drag you in front of the firing squad ... because I'd have to stand there too." Rosanne patted her hand on his organs, a gesture that made him shrink with revulsion. Then she stood up and walked away, wringing her hands together. "Jon, you must understand that this is all my fault."
"And I told you, I don't want to hear anymore about whose fault what is. Isn't it bad enough that this is happening without trying to blame one another for starting it? We're both to blame, goddammit, both of us."
"Then you'll take care of me?"
Jon got up from the sofa and stood with his legs spread far apart-hands on hips. "No more talk. We've talked ourselves blue in the face. Get the broom from the back porch," he said, "and sweep up this fucking mess. And don't ever try to give me instructions again. Move!"
Rosanne seemed happy that he was taking the situation into his own hands. Her smile, the first real one he had seen on her face all morning, meant to him that she wanted him to take command. Like it or not, that was the way she would have it. Jon could no longer allow her to instigate battles and could no longer permit her to compound their already complex problems.
She ran toward him like a long lost lover meeting her boyfriend at the railroad station. She flung her arms around him and slid down his body to the floor. She hugged his legs and lovingly pressed her face against his cock and balls.
"Rosanne, get up."
"Oh, Jon, things are going to be so good between us! I just know they will!"
"Get up."
"I'll do anything you want me to. I'll go anywhere or say anything and do anything for you."
"Well, you can start by getting that broom from the back porch." He lifted her up and turned her around toward the door.
"Jon?" she said, looking back at him.
'What?"
"You do love me, don't you, Jon?"
"I thought you didn't want to discuss things like that. A few minutes ago, you were screaming your head off when I mentioned something like that."
"Please answer me?"
"The only way I'll love you is if you do what I tell you to do."
"And then will you take me to bed?"
"Rosanne!"
"If I'm good?"
"Will you get that broom yourself? Or do I have to get it for you? If I have to get it, I won't use it for sweeping the floor."
She giggled and pressed her hands against her cunt. "I wish Momma and Daddy would never come to Maine. I wish we could be alone together all summer. I'll never be able to look at you naked like that all the time once they arrive. And that's the most wonderful thing about you, Jon ... how absolutely beautiful you look. I couldn't hope to ever find another boy as terrific looking as you if I search the world for a hundred years. And by then I'd be too old to do anything about it." She ran out of the room toward the back porch.
He sometimes wished he weren't attractive.
He wished he had the courage to go out into the world by himself-to forget all his family problems, to walk out on Rosanne and leave her to her own devices. He wondered if what he was doing didn't take an unusual type of courage itself.
After sitting back down on the sofa, he watched Rosanne enter with the broom.
"I'm not sweeping up anything," she said, "until you fuck me again."
Jon barely moved. He felt the heat radiating from all over his body. He felt his balls involuntarily rolling around, cooking up some fresh come; and he felt his cock flinch, beginning to swell.
"Sweep up the goddamned glass," he said.
CHAPTER FIVE
Jon worked like crazy for much of the day-washing windows, scrubbing floors, finishing up the polishing of silverware. He kept very busy although all he really wanted to do was sleep. He was really tired. Fucking that little girl out in the shack the night before and having sex twice with Rosanne in the past two days really sapped his energy.
He worked hard to get as many chores done as possible because he didn't want any trouble when his parents arrived. If the work wasn't done, he knew his father would blow his stack and his mother would hound him. He would have enough trouble when his parents arrived just trying to keep his new relationship with Roz a secret.
And something Roz had said the day before was starting to make more sense than ever. If he and his sister did what they were supposed to do, they might be able to win a few extra privileges from their folks. Privileges would come in real handy this summer-the summer of his affair with Roz. They would need the car. They would need as much privacy as they could get. They would need to stay on as good terms with their parents as possible.
Finally, he just couldn't wash another window or polish another floorboard or shine another spoon. He had to take a break. He was exhausted and didn't even think he could stay awake long enough to have dinner.
He went to his room and closed the door. His underpants were soaked with perspiration so he stripped them off and went down the hall to take a shower.
While he was washing himself and enjoying the refreshing water as it gushed over his body, Rosanne came in and stepped inside the shower with him. "Rosanne! What the hell are you doing here?"
"There's room for two, isn't there?"
"Yes, but you scared me."
"I did? I'm sorry, darling." She stepped closer and embraced him. The water poured over their bodies, and they kissed for a long time.
Jon moved aside so she could stand directly under the current. He rubbed the bar of soap with the washcloth and gazed at her gorgeous features. He was so lucky! What guy could ever hope for anything better! Beauty must have run in the family. Girls had told him how attractive he was, but he never knew until now just how exquisite his sister looked. Now she had beauty.
"Want me to wash your back?"
Rosanne rubbed her eyes and opened them. "Sure." She turned around, and Jon began to massage the washcloth all over her backside. "Rosanne?"
"Yes?"
"You know, I think the worst is over."
"I hope so."
"No, I mean, I think it will be real smooth sailing from here on out."
"That would be nice. It would be nice if we could get along without fighting all the time."
"That's what I'm hoping for." he wedged the washcloth under her armpits and then rubbed her ass with it. "You have a pretty ass, Rosanne."
"So do you."
"So do I! What do you mean, so do I?"
"You have a pretty ass. There's nothing wrong with that. Lots of boys have pretty asses."
"I didn't know you liked that sort of thing. I didn't know any girl really thought about that sort of thing."
"Oh, yeah. I always do. I love to snuggle up against a boy's ass. Rest my face there. It's very comfortable."
"I never thought of that."
"There are probably lots of things you never thought of."
"You're probably right." He knelt on the bottom of the bathtub and thoroughly cleansed her legs-both of them. And then he poked the washcloth between and around all her toes.
"Jon, you aren't sore anymore, are you?"
"What ... about us fucking together and all that?" Rosanne turned around. "Really, Jon, do you have to use language like that? I'm not one of your high school chums, you know."
Jon sat down in the tub with his legs stretched out toward the end where the faucet was. He leaned back and made himself comfortable while Rosanne stood under the water in front of him. "No, I'm not sore anymore. I'm not really happy about the whole thing in a couple of respects, but I'm not really sore anymore either."
"You aren't sorry about what we're doing, are you?"
"No. It's just kind of weird, that's all. Just kind of out of the ordinary."
"I'll say."
"You look beautiful, Roz."
"Stop saying that. Thanks."
"You know, this is the first time I've felt something different about a girl."
"Different? May I have the soap?"
"Yeah, different."
"Well, it's bound to be different, stupid. I'm your sister, aren't I? Nobody would expect you to feel the same way about me as you do about other girls you've been with."
'"Yeah, I know, but I'm talking about something different. It's a funny thing. I always felt very lonely whenever I went out on dates before."
"You? Lonely?"
"Yes."
"How could you feel lonely? That doesn't make sense. You're one of the most popular boys in your school. Didn't they elect you to some kind of organization because you were so popular?"
"Yeah, but that doesn't have anything to do with it.
I got a lot of phone calls, too, and the girls were climbing all over themselves to reach me."
"Gee, you're so modest."
"Oh, come on, Roz. We can speak honestly with each other."
"Sure, lad, go ahead."
"I didn't get my first piece of ass until last year, you know."
"Jesus Christ, Jon! Will you stop talking like you're in a locker room, for chrissake?"
"Okay, I laid my first chick about a year ago."
"Oh, that's an improvement? I'm going to kick you right in the balls if you keep that up."
"Roz, I'm trying to say something important!"
"I'm sorry. I'll be quiet."
'What I started to say was ... I've been fucking a lot of broads this past year. All kinds. Pretty ones, ugly ones, goats. Sometimes I'd fuck two and three a night, and you know why?"
"Let me guess. You were horny."
"No. That's just it. Half the time I wasn't really horny. I was lonely. I had to fuck them because I felt so damned miserable. Do you know what I mean? I mean, I really felt lonely."
"Okay, so you felt lonely. What's the big deal about that? Lot's of people feel that way. I've gone to bed with guys because I felt that way. Lots of people even get married because they feel that way."
"But with me it was different."
"You just think it was different."
"No, it was. I know it was. For this reason."
"I don't want to mess up your trend of thought, Jon, but I think we've done enough thinking for today. That's all we've been doing. Think, think, think. I'm tired of thinking." She turned the knob to make the water fill the tub and pressed the rubber stopper into the hole to plug the drain. Then she sat down with him, facing him, with her legs stretched out along his sides.
Jon felt kind of frustrated. He wanted so much to be able to communicate with his sister. If they were going to have the type of relationship they had started, the least they could do was have some honest communication going on between them at the same time.
Roz was so inconsiderate sometimes. She really annoyed him when she acted that way. But he shouldn't complain. They had just started their adventure together, and they had lots of time to work things out. Besides, his mind was beginning to drift from whatever it was that he had been thinking about. He was beginning to concentrate on her again. On those fabulous boobs that now belonged to only him.
He couldn't take his eyes away from her. She looked so vulnerable sitting there in front of him, leaning her head back, stretching her neck-the long hair sticking to her wet face and shoulders.
"I know what you're trying to say, Jon."
"Huh?"
"I think I know what you were trying to say a moment ago."
"Oh? What was that?"
"Weren't you trying to say that you felt lonely because girls were always trying to use you?"
"Yes!"
"Trying to take advantage of your good looks?"
"Yes! that's true! That's what I was trying to say!"
"All right. Calm down. I understand."
"Girls were only interested in one thing half the time. They didn't care about me or how I felt or anything like that. Usually, all they were concerned about was one thing, and that was how they could get the most pleasure from my body."
"You have a beautiful body, Jon. I don't really blame them. I know what you're talking about, but most of them were probably too immature to want anything else ... anything deeper."
"I don't blame them either, Roz, no more than I would blame some guy for wanting to get you into bed. But it always left me feeling so empty, so lonely ... that kind of thing. I mean, they would use me as though I were some sort of object, some sort of specimen, something you would ooh and ahh while it stood behind a glass window."
Rosanne crossed her legs and sat up. The water in the tub was rising higher and higher as the current poured from the faucet behind her. "Don't worry, Jon. I won't treat you like that. I won't use you because of how you look. I'll take care of you. I'll be very good to you from now on. I promise."
He leaned forward and took hold of her hands. "Oh, Roz, you don't know what that means to me. You don't know how happy I am that you said that.
If there's anything I want in the world, it's a girl I can trust ... someone who feels she wants me for something more than just my appearance. You're that girl, Roz. You're the one I want to be with forever and ever."
She smiled in the way that really satisfied him-the way she had of smiling whenever she wanted him to know that everything would be all right. "Hey," she said, "Let's not talk about heavy things anymore. Aren't you tired of searching out the truth for awhile?"
"Yes, dead tired. What I want to do now is take the longest nap of my life."
"So do I. When we wake up, I'll fix us a great big dinner. I'll cook those steaks we bought. Would you like that? Some steak and a baked potato and some fresh salad?"
"Oh, yes, Rosanne. That would be terrific."
"Good. After all, you're my younger brother. I'll have to learn to take care of you ... better than Momma ever did. She bosses you around too much and nags you. I don't want to treat you that way at all. I want to be real good to you. God knows, I've never had a boy I really cared about before."
Both of them slid farther down in the bathtub. The strong stream of water was pouring over Rosanne's shoulder and splashing on one of her breasts. Jon thought he would lose his mind. He felt so good with her now. He was so glad they had gotten so many things off their minds. He felt very relaxed and couldn't wait to get into bed with her. It would be nice sleeping with a girl he needed so much and adored.
Both of them closed their eyes and allowed their bodies to touch and explore. The longer they stayed submerged in the water, the better Jon felt. He had never known this kind of relaxation with a girl before. He only hoped Roz would be able to stay in her good mood-because, God knows, he knew how cruel she could become when she wasn't.
The hot water was making Rosanne perspire. The dampness on her face and boobs wasn't from the water directly, but was from the hot steam that was rising from the tub. He didn't know how she could stand to have such scalding water pour over her body that way.
Finally, he just couldn't stand it anymore. All he wanted to do was reach out for those two floating tits and play with them in his hands, but he knew this wasn't the right time for it. They were much too exhausted and peaceful for that sort of thing.
He got up and stepped out of the tub. His cock was starting to swell into a hardon so he grabbed the nearest towel to cover and dry himself.
"Where are you going?"
"To my room."
"Without me," She sat up and turned off the water.
"You can come, if you want."
"I sure do. You don't think I'm going to take a nap by myself, do you? I'll have to do that plenty enough when Momma and Daddy get here. No sir. I want to be with my little brother as much as possible ... while I can."
Once Rosanne was out of the water, they embraced warmly, and Jon let his towel drop to the floor. They kissed as though they didn't want to control themselves in any way whatsoever. He hugged her tightly. She held onto his shoulders. Nothing seemed important enough to make him stop kissing her-except one thing-the desire he had to get her into bed.
But once there, Jon felt too tired to make love. All he wanted to do was sleep. He figured he could make love to Rosanne anytime-now that their differences had been ironed out.
He rolled over on his stomach and quickly began to fall asleep. Rosanne, however, wasn't as tired, so she slid down his body to where she could rest her face directly upon Jon's healthy buttocks. She caressed one of his cheeks with her hand and kissed the other adoringly.
"Roz," he moaned, "please let me sleep."
"I can't help it, Jon. You have such a lovely ass."
"Yeah, well, you can play with it later tonight after I wake up. Roz? Are you listening to me?"
But she couldn't take her face away. She wanted to squeeze his cheeks as hard as she could, but because of his mood, she settled for lightly stroking them. She hugged her arm around his thighs and cuddled her face over his crack.
Soon, Jon's breathing evened out, and it seemed to Roz that he was asleep. She didn't want to annoy him too much. She didn't want to wake him up. All she wanted to do was be near him, feel peaceful with him, and be close to his ass.
In only she could lick his crack! She knew that was guaranteed to turn on any boy. There was something so unusual about that, so unusually intimate, so strangely erotic. She had made more than one boy come by merely licking his anus, and she was dying to try her skills on Jon. She bet herself that he never had anything like that done to him before. She wanted her little brother to have the best pleasures in the world, and she knew that she was the partner to give them to him.
Very gently, very cautiously, Rosanne eased Jon's legs farther and farther apart. She spread them so slowly that she knew there was little chance her manipulations could wake him up. He deserved his rest, and she didn't want to ruin it. But once his legs were sufficiently spread apart, Rosanne reached between them and carefully cupped her hand around his large, fleshy balls. She held them loosely and tried not to roll them around too much. She figured the reason she couldn't reach his cock was because he must have been sleeping on it.
His rocks felt so good to her. If only he was awake so he could know how much she enjoyed fondling them. They were so much fuller and plump than most pairs she had held. And they were Jon's. That's what really made her indulgence so wonderful. They! weren't just balls. They weren't just any boy's balls. They were Jon's-and he was closer to her now than any boy had ever been.
Rosanne's passion for her brother was not without a counter-balancing sense of guilt. She still wasn't sure that what they were doing was totally right. She never heard of a brother and sister having this sort of relationship before. But at least she didn't hate herself for the intimacy and sexuality of their rapport. Yesterday, she hated herself. Today, she didn't. She wasn't sure how much she was to blame for what they were doing, but she knew one thing-she was much more to blame than Jon. If not entirely. It was she who teased him into wanting her body. It was she who played with the idea of going skinny-dipping. It was she who needed Jon to take the place of all those other creepy guys she had been sleeping with. Now she had someone wonderful. Now she had someone beautiful. She had someone she could trust.
Just then, Jon stirred in his sleep and rolled over on his side. Rosanne reacted quickly and released his nuts, withdrew her hand from between his thighs, just in time to be out of his way when he unconsciously repositioned himself.
But now her vantage point was better than ever. Her face, having been level with his ass, was now directly in front of his cock. She could hardly believe how sensational it looked. It was so long and fat and muscular and hard. She dared herself to take a bite of it, to engulf it in her mouth. How she would love to be able to sleep with it lodged between her lips!
Should she? She didn't know. She would be taking a big chance that he might wake up and start battling. But his gorgeous dick was so tempting, so easily accessible where it was, so appetizing. A bigger or healthier one, she didn't think she had ever witnessed.
The household chores she had done, the arguments she and Jon had had, and the sex they had already shared all conspired to make her very drowsy. All she wanted to do now was have a nice long nap, such as the one Jon was enjoying, and wake up feeling refreshed and rejuvenated.
She opened her mouth to see whether or not she could fall asleep with Jon's dick there and whether or not that would disturb him. Unfortunately, his rod was too big for her to be able to fall asleep with it in her mouth. Her lips would have to be stretched all out of shape, and she doubted whether she could sleep that way. The fact that his cock was so large and cumbersome also meant that she probably couldn't sleep with it in her mouth without disturbing him.
But just as she was trying to measure her lips around it, Jon placed his hands down on her head, moaned with sleepiness, and coaxed her to take his organ into her mouth. Rosanne did and Jon acted as though he wanted her to sleep that way. Rosanne found herself drifting farther and farther from consciousness and woke with a startle some time later as Jon was coming in her mouth.
She moaned with pleasure, drank his syrup, drained his stick dry, and proceeded to fall asleep again in the very same position. Awhile later, she had no idea how much later, he came again. Neither of them really awakened completely during each of the orgasms, but neither fully fell asleep either. They slept that way-Jon on his side and Rosanne with his dick in her mouth-for the rest of the afternoon.
While the sun was setting behind the forest, while the room was getting darker and darker, Jon rubbed and opened his eyes. He carefully pulled away to dislodge his peter from his sister's mouth and rolled completely over on his back. Rosanne stirred too. "Roz?"
"Huh?"
"Are you awake?"
"No."
"Aren't you hungry?"
"Just for cock, your cock."
"No, don't you think we ought to get some dinner? I'm starving. We must have slept a long time."
"I guess so." She managed to sit up somewhat. "I sure will be sorry when Momma and Daddy get here. I wish they'd leave us alone for the rest of the summer."
"Well, I'm afraid that isn't going to be possible. We're going to have to do all our fucking away from the house once they arrive."
"I know. We don't want to make Daddy jealous ... not too jealous, at any rate."
Jon fumbled around on his night stand for cigarettes, couldn't find any, but found an apple that had been sitting there from the day before. He polished it on the sheet and took a big bite.
"Was that true?"
Rosanne lay alongside his legs and placed her face on his thigh. "Was what true?"
"Remember? What you told me yesterday?"
"I told you lots of things yesterday."
"About Dad."
"About him seducing me? Yes, that was true."
"Really? I just can't believe it."
"He did more than just seduce me. He actually went right ahead and did it."
"You mean he really fucked you?"
"Blue in the face."
"It's just ... I just can't ... it doesn't seem possible." He took another bite of his apple."
"It happened."
"How long ago was it? I never knew anything like that was going on."
"I wouldn't say anything was going on. It only happened once. Momma took you to the dentist, I think it was. Daddy and I were alone in the house. He made a pass at me as though it were all in good fun, and I didn't know what to do."
"When Mother took me to the dentist. How long ago was that?"
"Oh, I don't know. Five or six months ago."
"Amazing."
'What could I do? I didn't know any better. I was lonely, and Daddy said it would be all right, and I didn't think things would go as far as they did."
"God. I hate him for that. I really hate him."
Rosanne sat up and began to put on her bathrobe.
"I hated him too ... for a long time. I couldn't get it out of my system for ages. For awhile I didn't think I would ever be able to get it out of my system. I didn't think I'd ever be able to forgive him. It doesn't hurt so much now. I'm getting over it pretty well, I think."
Jon offered her the apple. "Want a bite?"
"I want a bite but not of your apple."
He flourished his hand across his groin and ate some more. "So? Have a bite. We're in this all the way now, Roz. We can do whatever we want with each other."
She smiled and climbed across the bed. She straddled him with both her knees on the mattress and reached down to hold his hardon with both hands.
"Don't you want to eat it? I thought you wanted to suck on it awhile."
"No. I already did that ... twice while you were sleeping. I want you to fuck me for a change."
"Are you going to sit on it?"
"Yes."
"Great" He chewed some more of the apple while Rosanne engrossed herself in caressing his cock against her loins. Jon watched her and tried to imagine his father going to bed with her, but he just couldn't. The vision wouldn't materialize. The thought even almost made him laugh, it was so preposterous, but he knew it was true, even though he couldn't consciously accept it.
"What a big, beautiful cock." Rosanne massaged it. "All the better to fuck you with."
"Don't make fun."
"I'm not. It's true. You wouldn't want me to have an iddy-bitty cock, would you? You want to really be able to feel it, don't you?"
"Yes, and that's why I'm going to take it sitting up like this ... so I can feel it rubbing me all over inside."
Jon aimed the apple core toward the basket on the other side of the room near the door. He tossed it over there and landed it right where he wanted.
Rosanne was losing her mind with the expectation of having his dick deep within her. To Jon, sex was becoming very commonplace lately, but to Rosanne-she seemed just as excited about balling with him as ever.
She rose up a little bit higher on her knees and held his cock as straight up in the air as she could. Then she lowered herself upon it, just far enough so that it touched her cunt. She spread the lips of her vulva with her fingers and crammed Jon's cock closer and closer to the point of penetration. She sucked it loudly between her teeth and wet her lips-all signifying her great hunger for his prick.
Jon knew that he would be able to fuck her a long time since he had come so often lately. He didn't think he would have any problem prolonging his orgasm this time. Rosanne would have as much opportunity as she wanted to reach her own climax.
Jon lightly held her thighs as she continued preparing herself for the entrance. She had such smooth, soft skin. He was in a great position for seeing every thing. Having his head propped up by pillows, he was plainly able to see exactly what she was doing with his dong and was able to look up and admire her tremendous boobs whenever he wanted.
This was so much better than worrying about what was going on-the way he always had to do with other girls. He always had to be so careful with them. Cautious. He always felt apprehensive with other girls. Always had to play their games. With Roz this was so different! They trusted each other now. They were free with one another. They could fuck deliriously and not give a damn about anything in the world. Loneliness was the last thing he felt.
And then she made the big move. She plunged down on his cock with one continuous movement, taking inch by inch of it into herself. Jon watched it disappear into that beautiful tunnel with wild fascination.
The grip she had on his meat was sensational. So tight. Hot. So slippery. There wasn't another girl in the world he'd rather be fucking more. And Roz really seemed to be enjoying herself again too. The way she was swaying her head around and around, the way her whole body seemed to undulate and respond to his cock inside her, made him feel extremely proud. He was elated that she loved him so much.
For the first time since she had taken his meat into herself, Rosanne slowly opened her eyes. She wasn't able to open them all the way, but she opened them far enough so that Jon could see the watery blue. Her eyes made her appear so distant, so dizzy-almost as though she were losing consciousness.
"How's it feel?"
She let out a whoop and pulled her hair with her hands. "Fantastic!"
"Can you feel it pressing up against you in just the right spot?"
"Yes!"
"I guess you won't have any trouble coming."
"I'm going to come like crazy!"
He laughed and vigorously massaged her legs. "You look Wilder than I've ever seen a girl look."
"Pump it, Jon!"
He bounced on the mattress a little bit, just enough to start a rhythm. He didn't want to fuck her too fast because he didn't want to come this time before she did. The one thing he wanted more than anything else was for Roz to have a good time. He wanted to be as unselfish as he could. As generous. As compassionate.
"How's that?"
"Beautiful!"
The bed was beginning to squeak. Jon was beginning to wonder how long he would be able to hold back his climax. Her cunt was casting a magic spell upon him. He wasn't sure anymore whether or not he would be able to sustain his screwing without coming right away.
"Rosanne?"
"What, baby?"
"Can you slow down?"
"Why! It feels terrific!"
"I know, but I'm trying to keep from coming."
"Come, Jon! Come all you want, baby brother!"
"No, Rosanne, I want you to ... to get the full benefit."
"Oh! This feels sensational! I love it, Jon! I love it! You're the most beautiful boy in the world, and I'm fucking you like crazy!"
"Ahhh!" She was bouncing on his nuts now. They must have tightened up or something because he felt her ass crushing them every time she dropped down on his dick. "Roz! Try to slow down! You're ... going to make me ... come!"
"Good!" She was really going wild. A child on a merry-go-round never had more fun. She kept touching her breasts and pushing them up as though she were offering them to some great influence above her.
Jon raised his head off the bed a little and raised his shoulders up too. He kept his balance by holding onto her waist. "Roz? You hear the bed? You hear that squeaking? That's ... oh, God, Roz ... that s why ... we can't screw around when Mom and Dad get here."
"Can you reach my breasts? Can you touch my tits? Hold them, Jon. Hold them, baby. Rub your beautiful hands all over them."
"Roz, I don't mean to ... disappoint you ... but I think I'm going to come pretty soon. I feel it rising up inside me, Roz. I'm begging you! Please! Don't fuck so fast!"
She kept rocking back and forth and bouncing up and down. The expression on her face changed, and Jon interpreted it as being one of disappointment. "Why won't you hold my tits?"
"I will, baby. Whatever you want."
"Oh, Jon, I thought you liked my body."
"Like it! Roz, you have the most unbelievable bod of any broad I've ever seen!"
She was growing weaker and weaker, fading farther and farther away into a sexual delirium, but did manage to reach down to try and help Jon find her boobs with his hands.
He sat up more, pressing one hand against her buttocks, and felt a tit with his other hand. He massaged it roughly and pinched her nipple which made her whole body break out in goose bumps.
She was sweating like crazy and was beginning to breathe more erratically. Her mouth wouldn't even stay closed. She kept rotating her hips around and around his dick, twirling it inside her, and working it expertly with her dripping cunt.
Playing with her enormous boob was the last straw. Jon couldn't help himself any longer. He had tried to postpone his orgasm as long as he could, but now the feeling was completely outside his control. He felt his whole body tingle and shiver with excitement. He couldn't distinguish individual strokes of pleasure along his hot piston. The joy that was radiating from there to all points of his body was continuous now-just one steady stream of ecstasy.
He came like a madman, losing all control over himself, thrashing like a wild animal, shooting his sperm up into her with manic gusto. He sat up completely and hugged her tightly while she let out scream after scream. The quivering and shaking of her body let him know that she too was coming. He pressed his hot face against her wet boobs.
CHAPTER SIX
Johanna and Marcus Williams, Jon and Rosanne's parents, waited for dessert at their table in the lodge's restaurant. Every year for just about as long as either could remember, they stayed overnight at The Clipper Ship Hotel enroute to their summerhouse. They loved Kennebunkport, as much as they were able to love anything, and looked forward to staying in the colorful little New England resort town with as much enthusiasm as they did about retreating to the summerhouse.
They reserved the same little knotty-pine room, overlooking the Atlantic, every year and reserved the same table in the dining room every time they registered. The sameness, the routine, helped bring back old memories of when they were younger. Of when they enjoyed their summers more. Of when the kids were little.
Johanna Williams, especially, missed the old days. Staying in Kennebunkport-staying, in fact, at the summerhouse-was much more fun when it was a new experience for the children. She wasn't even sure now whether Jon and Rosanne enjoyed themselves away from the city, away from their young friends. She suspected that they were a lot like so many young people she had heard about. They probably tolerated the annual family vacations in Maine, but they probably would prefer to be with their own kind.
Marcus wasn't as pessimistic. He needed the summers away from Hartford. Now that his businesses were well in control of themselves, he could use the time alone to make further plans, to map out his strategy for the coming winter, to dream of new undertakings. And to rest. He still had a lot of spunk in him. There wasn't any question about that. But he was getting older now and had to watch himself more closely. Doctors had warned him against overexertion and overindulgence. Don't do too much running around when you get up there to Maine, they had warned. Take it easy as much as you can. You need the rest.
He wondered if it would be that easy. Rosanne was making his blood boil more than it had in years. He tried to remember whether Johanna had turned him on as much in the heyday of their marriage.
That sexual experience with Rosanne five or six months ago had done wonders for his attitude. Fucking her was like winning a brand new lease on life itself. Nothing had been more exciting to him in a long time. And she didn't mind. That was the wonderful part. She accepted the danger and behaved like a real champion. Oh, she fought a little bit, he admitted to himself, but once she saw him as an ordinary man, and not simply as her father, she reacted quite differently. He wondered how much time he would have alone with her this summer. Lots, he decided. As much time as they wanted. It was so refreshing to be able to forget about the real nature of their relationship and to close his eyes and be able to think of Rosanne as just another beautiful girl.
"Marc? What are you thinking about?"
"Oh, I don't know. The kids, I guess."
"You are? So was I."
"They were so funny, the way they argued about who was going to do what when they got up to the summer home. I think Rosanne was more willing to pitch in and get things done than Jon."
"Well, you know how boys are at his age. I'm not worried about Jon. He's lazy in some respects, but he's a real go-getter in others. He's been making me very proud with some of the things he's accomplished at school."
"What things? His letters? His athletic achievements? I told you before, Johanna...."
"I know. We mustn't emphasize the extracurricular. Those things will take care of themselves. What we should encourage him about is his scholastics."
"That's right. Things are different now, Johanna. If I'm going to turn my business over to my boy, I want him to have an education. Not just the skills. But a good education. At the finest schools. I want him to know what's going on in the world."
"Yes, Marcus, I know."
"Things aren't the way they were ten, fifteen years ago. Today a young man has to know what it's all about. He can't get ahead by bouncing basketballs and jumping hurdles all the way through college."
"Jon will get his education. You can be sure of that. He's the least of our worries."
Marcus wanted her to explain that last comment, but the waiter and headwaiter appeared at the table. With them was the cart carrying the ingredients for Marcus and Johanna's pears flamb'. The headwaiter, while dispensing a little bit of chit-chat, stirred the pear halves in the thick sauce, a sauce which had been kept hot by the flames underneath the tray. Flattering Johanna about something and smiling-always smiling-he added the apricot preserves, cornstarch, and some cold water to the sauce and continued stirring and rotating the pears.
Johanna was in seventh heaven, thoroughly engrossed in the headwaiter's antics. Marcus couldn't help but think that this was the kind of nut who ought to take Johanna home and give her some sort of elegant fuck. He could see them now. The headwaiter awkwardly trying to play the part of the dashing French lover. And Johanna desperately trying to return to her youth.
Everybody around their table was captivated and oohing and ahhing at the headwaiter's performance. They really love it, Marcus thought. They really eat up all this shit. And Johanna, of course, was going crazy for the first time in a long time, being the center of attention for a brief few moments. She felt her best dining moments like this, and Marcus couldn't help hut wonder whether there was really anything else to their twenty-six year old marriage except the grand pretense they made now and then to help themselves believe that everything was all right.
He wondered if he would be able to get out of the hotel room tonight. Maybe after Johanna went to sleep he could sneak out and see what was doing in Kennebunkport that might be of interest to him. Surely, there must be one or two available young girls around. Not everybody in town was like the aging bores in this restaurant.
A snappy, sassy, vivacious little chick. That's what he needed. Maybe if he could find some young broad to screw tonight, he could get that out of his system before seeing Rosanne up at the summerhouse. He needed a young girl. Even a teenager. Some smart little whip who would let him know that he still had some of the old stallion in him.
He didn't dare mess around in Hartford. Word spread around too quickly about adulterous activities, and Johanna was not one of the liberated types who could accept a man's need to satisfy his basic drives.
After what happened five or six months ago with Rosanne, Marcus didn't care anymore about cheating on his wife. He owed something to himself before kicking the bucket. And he didn't care what Johanna thought. She would never divorce him anyway, not at their late stage in life. But he didn't want to bring her into his confidence anyway. The less she knew, the better. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.
The headwaiter spooned the coated pears onto plates held by the regular waiter and splashed rum over both portions. He lit the liquor, and Johanna clasped her hands together as tire flaming pears were set before her.
"Oh, darling! Isn't it absolutely beautiful? Did you ever see anything so lovely?"
"Eat. I don't want to stay in this dining room all night."
"Marcus," she said with disbelief.
He thanked the waiters by nodding his head but made no apology for his impatience with all the theatrics. He began eating as soon as the blue flame died down. Johanna, he knew, was probably deeply hurt by his unwillingness to play along with her ecstasy about the dessert.
"Well, just don't look at it. You're supposed to eat it while it's hot."
She picked up her fork and cut through one of the pears. "You always act that way, Marcus. The moment I'm enjoying a little bit of something, you come in with some kind of insulting comment."
"I m sorry."
"I don't think you are."
"All right. I'm not sorry."
"People are still watching."
"What do I care if they watch? Let them watch. If they don't have anything better to do than watch me eat a couple of candy coated pears, then they can come over here and kiss my ass."
They finished dinner with hardly another word between them. They went upstairs to their room and began the silent ceremony of undressing to get ready for bed. Johanna used the bathroom first while Marcus read a couple of newspapers he had picked up that morning in Boston.
Johanna came out of the bathroom wearing her hairnet and negligee. She hung up some clothes in the closet, checked the windows to make sure they were locked, and crawled into bed with an assortment of items with which to concern herself before officially retiring for the evening. Picture postcards. Needlepoint. A paperback novel.
Her husband folded up his newspaper and went to the bathroom without so much as glancing at his wife. He knew from many years of experience what to expect if he looked at her after she came out of the bathroom, and it was a sight he just as soon avoid as much as possible. Johanna always looked like she was fit for a nursing home whenever she got ready for bed.
He locked the bathroom door, turned on the shower water, and went through his nightly ritual of examining his body before stepping into the tub. He still wasn't ashamed of his body. There were a few wrinkles and freckles and folds here and there, but he had to admit that he had kept himself in pretty damn good physical condition. At one time in his life, he looked like Jon-blond, smooth, tightly muscular, Adonis-like. Gone were those days, but he had seen men half his age in fuck films who didn't even have the physique he did.
Gone also were the days when he could manipulate his cock into a full state of erection-the kind of erection when one's cockhead pointed straight up in the air directly at his face. It swung out now away from his body with just as much bulk and solidity as it always had, but it never got past the ninety degree mark.
His dick was as good as ever, he reassured himself, even though he had to jerk it off now more than ever to keep it alive. To give it some exercise. But it was still in fine shape. Rosanne had said as much when she took it into her cunt that historic day five or six months ago.
Jacking off was something that just didn't interest him tonight. He had too many things on his mind-namely, how he would react to his sensual daughter once caught up in the monotony and boredom of relaxing all summer at the house in Maine. It worried him. He wasn't sure that he could keep himself from instigating a repeat seduction. That would be something he would like, but he knew it wasn't right for his child. She was getting too old and too experienced to accept his sexual advances innocently. The day could come when she might hate him for using her as he would an ordinary mistress.
And so he made up his mind. Rosanne would have to stay out of bounds from here on out. But his need to fuck some nice young chick persisted. The idea of going back to try and make it with his wife was enough to make him sick.
He had to do what so many men had to do. In this day and age, he told himself, there was nothing wrong with it. People no longer felt bound by the old traditions. And why should they, if the old traditions brought them nothing but misery and disappointment?
After Johanna was sound asleep, Marcus quietly got dressed-all prepared to tell her that he was going out to walk along the ocean in case she awakened before he left. She didn't though, and he was soon free to walk around Kennebunkport with his jacket zipped up in the hopes of meeting an attractive young girl. This wasn't the first time he was cheating, but he hoped it would be his best.
The pubs closed early in Kennebunkport as did almost all the other places of interest. Marcus loved the little village and loved walking around it, especially alone, especially at night. Johanna was always wanting to stop and look at this and that wanting to buy every goddamned thing she saw.
It reminded him of Europe when he was stationed there during the war. What wild times he and the ladies had at those seaport towns! Wild endless drunken nights of sex, brawls, and laughter. Thinking back to those carefree days didn't keep him happy very long. He was soon feeling very depressed and very abandoned.
The streets of Kennebunkport were all but deserted. He walked toward the edge of town and finally saw what he wanted. He knew right away that she was the one. There wasn't any question in his mind.
She was standing at State Highway 9 with what appeared to be from a distance a knapsack by her feet. He couldn't see her too well, but the combination of moonlight and dim light from a nearby street lamp illuminated her well enough for him to see that she was quite young, very rustically dressed, and very much alone.
There wasn't any doubt in his mind but that she was fair game. Girls of her style were known to be promiscuous, available-and if it would take a few dollars to persuade her toward his goal, then he was all prepared to offer her whatever her little heart desired. The only thing was, he reminded himself as he got closer and closer, he didn't have much time. He didn't care if Johanna awakened and found him gone, but he didn't want to be gone too long. He wanted to fuck this girl and get it over as soon as he could.
He hoped to God he wouldn't scare her away. After all, it was dark and they were the only two around. He crossed the highway and focused on her briefly to get a better look. She was like a folk singer or a hippie-type. She was pretty and she couldn't have been a day over seventeen.
"Hi!" he said as casually as he could. But she didn't answer. He couldn't blame her. What would a guy like him be doing approaching a young thing like her in the middle of the night out in the middle of. nowhere?
"Want something, mister?"
New York. It was obvious from her dialect that she was from New York. It was unmistakable.
"Yes." He was standing just a couple of yards from her.
"Oh, yeah? And what might that be?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe just someone to talk to for a few minutes."
"You're lying."
He tried getting closer to her, but she whipped out a whistle from her denim shirt pocket and threatened to blow it. "You take one step closer, you creep, I'll bring this whole area down on you."
"Easy. I'm not going to hurt you."
"How can I be sure?"
"What do you mean, how can you be sure? Do I look like the kind of guy who's out to harm anyone?"
"How do I know that you aren't? Just because you look a certain way doesn't mean you're here on a goodwill mission."
"Okay, so you don't have any proof. But what proof do you have that some guy isn't going to pick you up in his car and slit your throat after you're over the next hill over there?"
She seemed to accept that reasoning, not entirely, but enough to let Marcus know that he'd be a damned fool to turn around and leave so soon. She studied him more closely.
"You're a smart guy, aren't you, mister?"
"No, if I was smart, I'd have something lined up for myself in town tonight. I wouldn't have to be walking around by myself at one o'clock in the morning, trying to see if there were any company to be had at all."
"You are a smart character."
"All right, so I'm a smart character. And I don't give up that easily. I'm smart enough to know when I'm not wanted, though, so if you want me to go, just say so, and I will."
She put the whistle away in her pocket. "I like you. You got balls."
Marcus blushed. He doubted whether she could see it, but he was embarrassed. He really liked the idea of playing stud at his age. It was doing wonders for him. Even if she rejected him, he was still accomplishing something. He was doing something so incredibly different that he couldn't help but be proud of himself.
The young girl showed signs of relaxing. "All right. So you don't have to go. It's a free country, and this highway belongs as much to you as it does to me."
Just then, Marcus' plans came under direct attack. His chances of making it with this cute little counterculture pixie were suddenly endangered by an oncoming car. She stepped out into the road and held out her thumb. There was just enough light for Marcus to see her beautiful sculptured ass underneath her snug fitting jeans. God, he wanted to grab them in his hands!
The car zoomed closer and closer and finally drove past them into the night, far, far away.
The girl turned angrily at Marcus. "Goddammit, mister! What the fuck's the matter with you? Why are you standing right there? Who do you think's going to pick me up with a straight looking grandpa like you standing right beside me?"
"I'm ... sorry."
"Go on, mister. Get lost, will you? I've been waiting here for an hour and a half, and you being here isn't going to make matters any better."
"As you wish." He turned to head back toward the village. She stopped him, however, but he didn't know if he should feel happy about that or not. Maybe the best thing for him to do was go back where he came from.
"Hey, now I didn't mean it to sound so shitty, mister. I didn't mean to shout that way. Honest. It's just that a girl isn't ever going to be able to catch a ride if they think she's with some guy. You know what I mean?"
"Yes."
"It ain't no reflection on you. It's just that I've been standing here...."
"I know, for an hour and a half."
"Yeah! And my feet are killing me."
"Well, I guess I better be on my way."
"Wait!"
"Good luck in getting a ride."
"Hey, mister! Wait!"
Marcus turned around toward her. "Yes?"
"You got a cigarette?"
Unfortunately, he didn't. He slapped his jacket pockets and showed her his empty palms to let her know he didn't carry anything to smoke.
She started kneeling at her knapsack and fumbling with it to find something inside. "That's all right. I have something even better than cigarettes to smoke. You aren't the heat, are you?"
"No."
"Come on. Let's sit over there where they can't see us from the road. Want to?"
"Yes."
"If I haven't gotten a ride by now, it won't kill me to wait another five minutes."
So they walked through the brush toward a thicket of trees that was down a little slope from the highway. The girl brought the knapsack with her. Marcus couldn't help but rejoice that his luck was improving. If what he was dreaming about came true, he would be the happiest man on earth. And why shouldn't it come true? He wasn't going to harm her. All he wanted to do was touch her a little bit. Then he could go back to his little knotty-pine room and jack off thinking about her.
All he wanted to do was touch her. Just touch her young skin. Caress her arms a little bit. Maybe slip his hands under her jeans and massage her ankles. Feel her legs. Touch her toes perhaps. Stroke her long sensual hair. It had been so horribly long since he had a chance to adore anyone. Rosanne had been the last.
It was so dark where they were that Marcus could hardly see a thing. There were trees all around them, and the ground felt damp and somewhat sandy. He didn't care what happened to his good clothes. He didn't care if they got muddy or tore or anything. All he cared about was just touching her a little tiny bit. Something like that might even be enough to make him cream in his pants-and that wouldn't be bad because then he wouldn't have to face the possibility of her rejecting him later if he made more intimate passes.
She was relaxed as could possibly be. She was lying down on the ground with her legs crossed, propping her head up with the knapsack. She was puffing away like mad on her weed.
He was sitting next to her, trying to feel as comfortable as least nervous as possible. "My son smokes that stuff."
"Your son?" She was speaking and trying to hold the smoke inside at the same time.
"Yes."
"You're married?"
"Yes."
"Hey, that's far-out ... you being a married man and doing this."
"Doing what?"
"You know, stopping to be with me. Hey, you want some?" She offered him the joint.
"No thanks."
"It's real good shit, man, the best."
"No thank you. I'll just concentrate on you and get high, if you don't mind."
"Hey, I like that! Concentrate on me to get high. That's real nice. That's a real nice thing, mister."
"You're a real nice thing."
"So are you."
There was a moment of silence then. It didn't bother him. He thought they were making progress, and that was good. "What's your name."
"Toni. What's yours?"
"Marcus."
"Marcus! That's your real name? I mean, don't people call you anything for short?"
"Yes. Marc."
"Nice night."
"Yes."
"Not too warm, not too cold."
"Yes."
"Sure you don't want some grass?"
"I'm sure."
"I'll bet I know what you do want."
"Oh? What's that?"
She began to laugh. She had such a giddy, childish way of laughing. He loved it. She made him smile. "Hey, you know, this is really far-out, mister."
"Is it that good?"
"Yeah! Very good. I mean, it's really nice being here with you. You're a very easy going guy. I like that. And you aren't afraid to do what you want. I like that even better."
"You might not like it so much if I told you what I'd really like to do."
"Oh? How do you know? Why don't you tell me? What would you like to do?"
"I'd ... I'd like to take off your shoes and touch your feet. That's all. I don't want to do anything that would make you feel uncomfortable."
"That wouldn't make me feel uncomfortable. In fact, I've never had a guy ask me that before. That's really nice. Sure. Go ahead. You can take my shoes off if you want."
And so he did. She was wearing sneakers, and it didn't take but a moment before he was massaging her toes and ankles and the smooth skin of her feet. When her whole body shivered, he had to stop and ask her if everything was all right.
"Sure. It's just that your hands were kind of cold there for a second."
"I'm sorry. I guess I'm kind of nervous."
"Why don't you warm them up? Why don't you put them between my legs for a moment to warm them up?"
"You mean...."
"Yes." She took his hands and wedged them between her thighs. Then she lay down again and continued puffing her glowing joint, looking up at the treetops.
His hands did get warmer faster. He wasn't touching her skin, but even so, being that close to her groin was really turning him on in a big way. He massaged his hands between her legs and felt the soft fabric of her jeans against his knuckles.
"You like that, mister?"
"Yes."
"Me too. Are they warm yet? Your hands?"
"All of me is warm now."
"Good."
"I feel warm all over."
"Me too. Especially farther up. Want to give me some ventilation there?"
He couldn't believe it! A feel of her snatch! He was going crazy just thinking about it! He couldn't control himself from panting and sweating. He thought he would faint from his growing dizziness.
He who hesitates is lost. Marcus found the zipper of her dungarees in the dark and tried pulling it down, but at first it didn't move. He jerked it a little, and finally it began to slide downward.
"That's it, mister. That's the way to do it. I'm beginning to feel cool down there already. There's a nice little breeze blowing through there, just where I'm the hottest."
"Do you want me to unbutton this top button too?"
"By all means."
"I can't believe it. I just can't believe it."
"What can't you believe?"
"That ... that you're being so cordial."
"Cordial! I wouldn't call it cordial. I'd call it sensible. I might even unroll my sleeping bag here and stay the night."
After unfastening her fly button, Marcus turned back the two lapels of her pants opening, and although he couldn't see too much in the darkness, what he felt was unmistakable.
"You ... you're not ... you're not wearing any panties."
"Of course not. That went out years ago."
"That's fantastic."
"Try massaging that, mister ... unless you're one of those really stuck on feet. How about giving it a little kiss for me?"
"Oh, I couldn't."
"Why?"
"I just couldn't. I'd regret it. I wouldn't be able to control myself. I wouldn't be able to hold it inside me. It's been so dam long."
"You mean, you'd cream in your jeans? Hey, that's pretty damn good. Maybe you ought to take off your trousers. Come on, mister, give it a little kiss for me. It'd make me feel good. It'd make me feel you wanted to be close to me. It'd calm me down a little bit."
So Marcus bowed and kissed the sweetest young cunt he ever kissed in his life. It was so warm and secure there. He felt happy to have his face buried between her thighs that way. He snuggled his face against her pussy and didn't want to leave that spot for love nor money.
She caressed his head, and that made him feel even better. She was so hot and alive there! He could feel the sex juices boiling inside her! She was so tight and ripe at that fantastic spot!
And he did notice a change in her. He thought she had been relaxed before, but that couldn't compare at all with what he felt from her now. It were as though she were settling down for the night with him. She really did enjoy having his face cuddled up against her cunt. She wasn't just doing this to appease him. She really did want him there.
"Oh, I'm beginning to feel that nice easy thing, mister. I'm beginning to feel real good inside. You're good for me. You're real good for me."
He was losing his mind, the way she was fiddling with his ears and stroking his hair. He pressed his face harder and harder against her furry little twat and felt its lips on both sides of his nose. He stretched out his tongue and slowly licked it upward along her firm crack.
Her natural ointments were oozing like crazy now, but he didn't mind the peculiar odor whatsoever. In fact, he was insane about it. The more she was turned on, the happier he felt. He wanted to fuck her with his finger and twist it around inside her to give her the time of her life.
He was about to do just that when suddenly she touched his shoulder and said, "How about pressing you face against these, mister."
It wasn't until he followed her directions and moved farther up her body that he knew exactly what she was talking about. The girl had unbuttoned her shirt and was lying with it wide open. Her young shapely tits waited patiently for his hands.
They were beautiful tits. He couldn't see them too well, but who had to! Feeling them let him know precisely what kind of tits they were, and did he love to feel them! They were so young and firm and beautifully proportioned. They weren't too big and they weren't too small. They were just right size, and they felt magnificent in his hands. So smooth except for the hard, pointed nipples that excited his palms like crazy. So delicate and yet with a youthful vigor all their own. So warm and comforting.
Marcus was really starting to feel delirious. He swept his hand all over her tender boobs and down her slender abdomen. She was so thin! He loved it. He loved the way her breasts stood out from her otherwise skinny body. She was so exquisite, remarkable, passionate.
"You like them, mister?"
"Yes. Oh, God, yes!"
"You haven't kissed them yet though. You haven't pressed your soft face against them yet."
"Young lady...."
"Toni."
"Toni ... I think I'm going to have to go around behind one of these bushes."
"What for?"
"To relieve myself. My groin is beginning to hurt."
"You mean, you want to whack off?"
"I've got to."
She laughed and said, "No, you don't. You don't have to come by yourself when you're with me. That wouldn't be fair. And besides, what kind of fun would that be for me? You'd be depriving me of all that good cock you have."
"Don't tell me ... you want me...."
"Yes! Silly man! Take off your pants like I said before and let me feel your whole body next to me!" Marcus stripped himself completely naked but didn't bother to pull her jeans farther down her legs. They were still wrapped around her thighs, but there was plenty of room for him to rest his cock and balls upon her exposed vagina.
She couldn't spread her legs wider because of her jeans, so Marcus straddled his on both sides of hers. He lowered himself farther down upon her and mashed his genitals against her steaming twat.
"Oh, mister, that feels good!"
"I've got to fuck you, Toni. I'm going to lose my mind in about three minutes if I don't get in there and do some fucking."
"You're a big man, aren't you, mister. Hung."
"Do you want to suck it?"
"It's hard to get to it, the way I'm lying here." Marcus made it easier for her. He climbed up over her and positioned his ass directly in front of her face. His knees were planted on the ground on both sides of her face. His cock and nuts hung immediately over her mouth that way, and he had the idea that Toni was anxious to taste them.
"This is good, mister. This is real good."
"I love you, Toni, I love you." He squatted just a little so that she could reach his hardon with her mouth.
She was no beginner. She knew exactly what drove a man out of his mind. She flipped his cock back and forth with her tongue. Then she reached her tongue to the underside of his cockhead where she licked him and made him feel like he was going berserk. His cock was amazingly tender there and was perhaps the most sensitive spot on his body.
He squatted lower in the hopes that she could be persuaded to stop teasing him and take a full bite of his meat, but Toni seemed to enjoy having his organs flopping around on her face too much. She was humming with great delight and groaning with tremendous pleasure. Marcus thought he would die if she didn't eat him soon.
"Oh, mister, you're good. You're good for me."
"If you keep doing that, Toni ... if you keep socking my dick around with your nose and face like that ... I'm afraid ... I'm going to be coming all over you."
"Beautiful. I'd love that."
"Okay. If you rather I didn't fuck you...."
"No, I want you to fuck me! You've got to! I'm dripping down there and dying for it!"
Marcus gently touched his fingers against her lips to open her mouth and then gradually began stuffing his cock inside. He tried not to give too much of it all at once because he hoped she would stay calm-and because he was frightened about coming too quickly.
But Toni moaned, and Marcus knew that everything was all right. She really loved dick this way. She seemed to be thoroughly contented having his prick in her mouth, and he was happy that he could please her this much.
She began sucking him slowly but with a steady rhythm. She did so much moaning and took so much of his dick down her throat, that Marcus suspected he would have to pull it away from her before too long if he was still going to be able to screw her with it. His joy starting going wild, though, when Toni took hold of his nuts. Not only did she continue sucking him, but she was playing with his rocks at the same time, and that drove him mad. As tight as his nuts were, Toni kept yanking them down to prolong his pleasure, to keep him from coming.
Finally, he just couldn't stand it anymore and had to pull his cock out of her mouth. He repositioned himself to start screwing.
"What's wrong?" she wanted to know.
"Nothing," he breathlessly said. "Nothing except the fact that I've to start fucking you, or I'll die."
Toni laughed a little bit. "And I was digging that so much. But I need you, mister. I want you to give me the fucking of your life. I don't want you to ever be able to forget this experience."
"Don't worry. I won't."
He slammed his dick into her with ten times as much pressure as he wanted. Toni gasped a little bit and clung to him tightly. Her cunt felt so hot and tight that Marcus was sure he would blow his whole wad in ten seconds flat. His dick didn't even want to slip out a few inches. He had to thrust his ass in the air in order to pull it out more forcefully, and that of course created so much electrifying friction that he had to plunge right back into her to keep himself from somersaulting backwards into space.
He had to stay right where he was for a second. He didn't dare move a muscle. He kept his cock shoved completely inside her for the longest time because the slightest movement could trigger his orgasm. This was one fuck he wanted to last and last and last.
But just as he was feeling that his excitement might he subsiding, Toni frantically wiggled around, twisted his dick inside her narrow channel, and thrust her hips upward-crushing his balls between her thighs.
"Oh, God, that feels good!" she squealed. "You don't know how good that feels!"
"I got to fuck you fast, Toni. I got to do it quick with all my might."
"Okay, mister. Let her rip. Rape me with the damned thing. I want it hard, and I want it fast. Give it to me like your life depended on it."
He fucked her with all the strength he could muster. He slammed into her so hard that he thought his nuts would crack open like eggs. Their loins smacked together again and again. Toni moaned and gasped and flung her arms around wildly.
"That's it!" she cried. "That's the way I want it!"
"I love it, Toni. I love the way you fuck."
"So much cock! I can't believe it! I've needed this all night! Fuck me, mister! Fuck the living shit out of me!"
"You're so beautiful."
"Oh, mister! You fuck great!"
"Such beautiful breasts. Such beautiful everything."
"Oh, baby!" She raised her legs and rocked up and down in unison with his fucking. Every time he drew back, she drew back. Every time he thrust himself at her, she thrust herself at him.
Marcus shot like a ton of TNT. He creamed into her again and again. He felt his whole body would fall apart at the seams. There didn't seem to be any end to it. He kept coming and coming-and hoped to God she would come too.
And then it was over. They held each other, and Marcus kept his hand over her breast. He dozed.
Toni wanted to unroll her sleeping bag so they could spend the rest of the night together, but Marcus explained that he wouldn't be able to do that. As much as he wanted to stay with her, he testified that he couldn't because of his wife. Because of having to go back to her. Surprisingly enough, that didn't seem to disturb Toni in the least. She said she understood and said that she was glad they were able to spend what time together they could.
Marcus thought sometimes that he was a real idiot for not trying to sleep with more young beauties like Toni. She taught him a lesson. There was no doubt in his mind now that he still had what it took to be a good lover.
Toni sucked his balls for a little while, not to get him off again, but just because she wanted to. It soothed him tremendously, and when it was time for him to leave, he felt like a brand new man.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jon and Rosanne finished their late breakfast in the kitchen-both feeling very good about having all the chores done, about having the whole house ready for their parents, about having had a good night's sleep.
Jon waited until Rosanne finished washing the dishes, and then he said, "Look. Today's the last day we're going to be able to be alone without you-know-who around us all the time. What do you say, we go down to the ocean for that skinny-dipping we talked about a few days ago. Want to?"
"Do you really want to?"
"Yes! We haven't done that since we were kids."
"I feel like a kid now. Oh, Jon, I'm so happy we worked things out between us. I really am." She hurried around the table and flung her arms around him.
"I am too."
'We have so much to look forward to now."
"Yes."
"And I want you to come to Florida with me."
"Really?"
"Absolutely." She started walking around the kitchen, thinking out loud. "I don't know how we'll manage it ... financially....but we will. We've got to. I don't want to live anywhere if I can't live with you."
"Roz! That's the nicest thing you've ever said!"
"I mean it."
"Come on, Roz, let's go down to the shore."
"No, Jon."
"I'll drink the rest of the wine by myself if you don't."
"You better not!"
Jon hurried to the refrigerator, got the bottle of wine, and rushed into the living room. Rosanne chased him desperately. Jon wasn't wearing any clothes, but that's the way he wanted to go to the beach. Naked. With her. Playfully, he held up the bottle and opened the front door. "Coming with me? Or do I get to drink this all by my little lonesome?"
"Jon! Give me that bottle!" She walked toward him, and when she thought she was close enough, she rushed at him to snatch the wine.
But Jon was out the door. Rosanne chased him all the way across the yard and into the woods. Her white dress fluttered in the breeze. She ducked to avoid low hanging branches.
Jon laughed and ran faster and faster-down the path, past the section of evergreens, and finally down the slope that led to the ocean.
'I'll kill you, Jon!"
He stopped to look at her standing on top of the cliff. "You couldn't catch me if you tried!"
"If I come down here, you'll be sorry!"
"You don't have to come down if you don't want! I'll finish up all this good wine without you if I must!"
"You selfish creep!"
He laughed and ran farther down the rocky path. At last he was at the water's edge. The waves rose and crashed against the jagged rock formations. The ocean whispered and bellowed its constant hymn of hisses and thunder.
Jon walked along the sand and completely forgot about Rosanne for a moment. It had been so long since he had been naked on the beach. Not since a year ago when he sneaked away from the summerhouse by himself to come down here and strip. In those days he was doing a lot of masturbating. He hadn't had his first experience with fucking yet. But now his life was different. He wasn't masturbating anymore except in cases of emergency. Now he was fucking and loving it with Roz more than he had with any girl or woman.
He popped the cork out of the bottle and swilled down a few generous swallows of the wine. Some of it dripped down his chin and chest, and all of it felt good. After setting the bottle down into the sand, he ran into the ocean and got drenched by a high wave.
Rosanne waited for him at a cove against the cliff. She had removed her white dress and was lying on it. Jon came out of the water and ran toward her.
She sat up. "Don't forget the wine!"
Jon ran back, and when he reached the bottle, he waved his arm for her to join him there. "Come on! It's sunny over here!"
"But it's more private back here!"
"Private! But there's nobody else around!"
"You can never tell!"
He wouldn't take no for an answer. He motioned for her to get her ass over there and then started drinking from the half empty bottle again. "If you don't come down here by the water, I'll finish this by myself!"
Making no effort to conceal her frustration, Rosanne picked up her dress and joined him close to the water's edge. Jon embraced her and told her how stunning she looked outdoors with no clothes. Rosanne was a little embarrassed but admitted she felt wonderful.
Then they spread her dress on the sand, and Jon proceeded to mount her with hardly any preliminaries whatsoever. He used his saliva to moisten his dick because Rosanne's cunt felt a little drier than usual to him.
It wasn't long before they were both breaking out into a hot sweat while they fucked on her dress. They were in no hurry. The longer it took, the happier Jon would be. He felt incredibly free and wonderfully alive. He wanted to fuck her for hours before they came.
Rosanne kept her eyes shut because the sun was shining brightly on her face. But she reacted as though Jon's fucking was the most wonderful pleasure in the world.
The ocean continued its raging, and water bubbled over the sand and covered their feet. Both of them laughed and clung tightly to each other and shivered. "Wow," Jon said. "That was shocking."
"Oh, Jon, this feels so splendid."
He rested for a moment, caressed her boobs and kissed her, wiggled his cock around inside her just to keep it stimulated, to keep her stimulated; then he resumed his soft screwing. Rosanne spread her legs, and he felt her vagina relax. It lacked the tense grip it usually had whenever they fucked like beasts. And he was glad for the change. He enjoyed making it with her this way as well as the other. This way, he wasn't apt to come so readily. He had more time to rejoice from every single titillating spasm. After each deep plunge, he let his shaft-in fact, his whole body-recuperate from the ticklish, yet soothing pleasure.
Rosanne dug her toes into the sand. "Fuck me harder. It feels wonderful this way, hon, but I need it harder. Can you?"
"Sure. I'll fuck you whatever way you want."
"It's just that I have this anxiety down there, Jon. I have to have it satisfied."
"A regular little nympho."
"Jon!"
"Shhh. Listen to the ocean."
"Harder, Jon, please."
"Doesn't it sound terrific?"
'Come on, baby, you can do it better than that. Give it to me like you were last night."
"So rhythmic, so steady, so dependable."
Rosanne started rotating her hips to get more fulfillment from his big dong. She bent her legs more, brought her feet up closer to her ass, so she could get better leverage-and then she started plowing into Jon's crotch with more urgency than he plowed into her.
His body finally couldn't resist what she was doing to it. Even though he wanted to wait with his orgasm, he found himself soaring higher and higher to that point with every battering of her loins. He couldn't stop her. He followed her lead and fucked her hard. He reared back and slammed into her with all his might again and again.
He collapsed on top of her completely. He mashed her tits with his chest and pressed his face into the sand next to her hair. He moved his legs to be on the outside of hers, clamped her legs together with his, and fucked her cunt faster. It felt tighter that way, and her muscles were making it tighter too.
He came-and just as he did, water from the roaring ocean splashed over them and covered most of their bodies.
They sat on the beach and talked for a long time, Jon mostly about how they should act around their parents, Rosanne mostly about fucking again so she could have an orgasm. She complained that Jon wasn't sensitive to her needs that time. He reassured her that he would fuck her again soon.
They both agreed that they had a lot more to look forward to now than they did when they first came up to Maine earlier in the week. They finished the wine, swam in the ocean awhile, hiked along the coast, and then decided they better get back to the house.
Jon carried his sister's white dress over his shoulder, and they walked hand-in-hand through the woods. When they reached the yard, neither was prepared for what they saw. Marcus was unloading the Lincoln Continental.
It was too late. Their father had seen them. There was no need to run or hide. Jon only hoped that his dick wasn't so red that his father wouldn't have any doubt about what he and Rosanne had been doing. But he knew he was probably out of luck. His dick had still been red from all the fucking he had done the day before and the day before that.
Marcus completely dropped a suitcase right where he was standing. Johanna came out onto the porch, deeply preoccupied in something she was saying to her husband, when she noticed that he wasn't listening. She followed his eyes across the yard and let out a scream that could have shaken the leaves from the trees.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Johanna hurried through the master bedroom and sat on the old Morris chair with its high back, wide wooden armrests, and heavy carved legs in the shape of leopard paws. She supported herself on one of the armrests and wept quietly into a lace handkerchief.
Marcus closed the door behind him and tried the best he could to maintain his composure. Somebody had to. Johanna was falling apart at the seams. "Johanna, please, stop crying."
"How can I? If it's not one thing, it's another."
"There's nothing to be upset about."
She twisted around in the chair toward him. "Oh, you're a fine one to be telling me not to be upset ... after that ... that ... episode in Kennebunkport."
"I told you, I went out for a long walk. I had to have some time by myself."
"Oh, sure, and that's supposed to make leaving me alone at night perfectly all right. Not hardly, Marcus, not hardly. If you were any younger, I'd say you were going out to get laid."
"Johanna!"
"Protest. Go on. Protest. You have every right to protest. It's an absurd idea ... the idea that you could be going out to get laid. It's laughable. Pathetically laughable. But what about the children? If you aren't concerned with my feelings, aren't you at least concerned about theirs?"
"Yes, of course, I'm concerned about them."
"Well, you don't sound it."
'Johanna, I don't want to make a big issue of this."
"Oh, you don't, do you? The fact that your two children come walking out of the woods naked together ... naked, Marcus ... not wearing swim suits ... but naked ... that doesn't seem to upset you a bit, does it?"
"Why should it? The kids of today are a lot freer."
"Don't tell me about the kids of today. Why should I give a damn about the kids of today? I'm interested in our lads, Marcus, our kids. Not anybody else's. Ours."
"And so am I, Johanna, but I think you're making too much of a minor thing."
"Jon and Rosanne strolling naked through the woods together is not my idea of a minor thing!"
"I asked you to keep your voice down."
"Why should I hide my feelings from them? Do you want them to think that I approve? Well, I don't approve. I heartily disapprove. And I disapprove of you trying to shush me up. And I won't accept this business of you wanting to go out in the middle of the night for a walk around the block."
"Then what are you saying?"
"Just this." She stood up by the Morris chair and clasped her handkerchief to her stomach. "Those children are to be severely reprimanded for what they did, and they are to be punished."
"Punished. What do you expect me to do, spank them? Face it, Johanna. They aren't children any more."
"They'll always be my children."
"But they aren't babies. They're grown."
"That makes it even worse. If they were babies, I could understand them parading around with nothing on, but they're young adults, Marcus, and that makes the whole sordid affair even worse."
"I think you're making too much of it."
"How can you be sure of what they did and what they didn't do? How can you be sure that one thing doesn't lead to the next? One thing does lead to the next. Jon is not so secure and Rosanne is not so coy that something forbidden wouldn't excite the both of them."
"Johanna ... I don't believe you're suggesting such a thing. I don't believe your imagination has gone that far amuck."
"Jon and Rosanne are still at the age of learning. Both are susceptible to all the whims and fancies of the young. And in this day and age, who knows how far astray those whims and fancies can lead a boy and girl."
Marcus couldn't look at her anymore. He had to turn away and pretend the best he could that he rejected what she was implying-the possibility that Jon and Rosanne could be sleeping together. It horrified even him. His experience of fucking Rosanne and of fucking the teenage hitchhiker in Kennebunkport opened his eyes to the fact that anything is possible. But Jon fucking Rosanne! Now that was something he just wasn't willing to accept.
And yet he had to hand it to the old girl. She had succeeded in really frightening him. Because if what she implied Was true, if Jon and Rosanne were sleeping together, he was really totally helpless to say or do anything about it-and for one very simple reason. To let that situation explode, he would have to be willing to face disaster himself. Rosanne was not so weak that she wouldn't fight back, and with the ammunition she had, she could destroy him.
"All right," he said, "I'll speak to them."
"Speaking to them isn't enough."
"All right, I'll reprimand them."
"I want them punished. I want them punished so there'll be no chance of anything like this reoccurring in my house as long as I am alive. I don't want to take the chance that one thing might lead to another."
Marcus went to the door. "All right. But I want to handle this my way, do you understand? I don't want you meddling in this affair."
"Affair. That's some choice of vocabulary, Marcus."
"Situation. I don't want you meddling in this situation. Things are going to be tough enough for us this summer without you interfering with your corrupted imagination."
Johanna turned and walked to the window. She touched the fancy Nottingham lace curtain. Her voice was different now. Less angry. More withdrawn. "My corrupted imagination? I don't think my imagination is corrupted, Marcus. In fact, I don't think my imagination has anything to do with it at all. I think I'm seeing things very clearly ... perhaps for the first time in a long time. Corrupted? No, I don't think my imagination is corrupted. You've been very nice to me since we left Kennebunkport. You've gone far out of your way to be polite and compatible. Almost apologetic. And I know you better than that, Marcus. I know why you do what you do. We haven't slept together in a long while, have we, Marcus? Would it be any surprise that you would find sex outside our unfriendly marriage? No, I don't think it would be any surprise. I think it would be perfectly natural for you."
"Johanna...."
"Stop. Don't say anything, Marcus. Leave well enough alone. Don't fight the truth because you'll only make matters worse. We've drifted apart, Marcus, not just you and I, but all of us ... you, me, Rosanne, Jon. There's very little left of what we once had. There's very little left for me to hold onto. Almost next to nothing."
Jon overheard almost every word of his parents' discussion. He was too busy getting dressed to stop and realize just how nervous he was becoming. He needed Rosanne's help and went to her room just as soon as he had on his pants.
She was dressing and frowned angrily at him when he entered her room. She whispered. "What are you doing in here, fool? Get out of my room!"
"Roz, I have to talk to you. I'm scared."
"Shut ... up. You're going to have us both in so much trouble if you stay in here that we'll never be able to see each other the way we want"
"What are we going to do?"
"We're not going to do anything. They don't know anything for sure yet. Let me handle this. Don't open your mouth about anything. I'll take care of this because I'm the only one who knows how. Now get out of my room, Jon, and cool it. Goddammit, don't look so worried. Act normal. So far as they know, we haven't done anything wrong. Now will you leave this to me? Try and act like nothing has happened ... because so far as they know, nothing has."
"I don't like this." But he followed his sister's orders and left her alone.
It wasn't until an hour or so later that the three of them-Jon, Rosanne, and their father-were all sitting in the living together. Johanna had not come out of the master bedroom yet.
Marcus explained in what Jon considered to be very mild language that their mother did not think it would be a good idea for Jon and Rosanne to be seeing each other naked. When Jon vehemently explained that he and Rosanne had done nothing wrong, Marcus became more adamant. He insisted that Jon and Rosanne not expose themselves to each other. He asked Jon to promise him as much, and that was when Jon began losing control. If Rosanne had not interrupted, he would have really let his father have a piece of his mind.
But Rosanne did interrupt, told Jon once again to shut up, and began talking what seemed to Jon to be the offense in answering their father. And their father didn't argue. He didn't defend himself. And then it dawned on Jon exactly what was happening.
She was blackmailing him! Roz was threatening him with what had happened six months ago. She was taking the offense and was telling their father that if worse came to worse, she would spill the news that he fucked her!
Jon didn't like it a bit. He didn't like any of this. He knew they would get into trouble. He knew it from the very beginning. Now it was too late. He knew it would be too late some day, and this was it.
All he wanted to do was take Rosanne away from there. The circumstance had become ugly enough. Neither of them could ever find any happiness anymore so long as they were under the same roof as their parents. They had to leave. That would be the only way they would ever be able to be together the way they wanted. What were the chances that they could run off into the woods and fuck, now that suspicions had been raised? None, he knew, none whatsoever. Their mother and father would be watching every move they made.
Jon spent much of the next three days alone in his room. He was so disgusted with everything. He and Rosanne had worked so hard to get the house ready and now all their labor seemed to be for nothing. No way were they ever going to be able to get the car to drive around by themselves. No way were they going to have any privileges.
The whole situation was terrible. Nobody in the family was talking to anybody else. He kept the radio on in his room just so he could have some company and just so he wouldn't have to hear the deathly silence that permeated the entire house.
Jon was naked most of the time he spent in his room. There was little else for him to do except stare at some pictures of naked women in magazines he brought from Connecticut. That and reading some paperback books and dreaming was about as much activity as he could find. Of course, he looked at himself a lot in the mirror and he exercised. But nothing dispelled the frustration he felt about wanting to sleep with Rosanne. He tried to stay patient, figuring somehow they would be able to find some privacy together, but he was beginning to worry.
Finally, he couldn't stand the loneliness any more, so he started to masturbate. There didn't seem to be any end to it. The more he came, the more he felt he had to come some more. And he knew why. He knew that jacking off was a pretty poor substitute for actually fucking his sister. Her company and her body was what he needed.
He wondered how long he would have to go on jacking off. One of these days, he thought, he and Rosanne would find a way of meeting each other in the woods.
He went outside for the sole purpose of finding a place either in the forest or by the sea where he and Rosanne could see each other without being discovered. Somewhere in the state of Maine there must be a place where he could take her so they could resume their romance. He desperately missed her and was bored with dreaming about her. He wanted the real thing.
It was hot and he really didn't need a T-shirt, but he wore one anyway because of the traumatic event on the day his folks arrived. He was embarrassed to even show his bare feet now. The whole predicament was unbearable.
He hiked and hiked, first along the shore, then among the trees. He must have been about a mile from the house when he thought he heard voices. He wasn't too sure at first because he was in such an isolated area, but the more he listened, the more convinced he was that there were people out there in the woods with him. Who knows, he thought, maybe they were women.
What fun that would be-running into a bunch of girls right out in the middle of nowhere. If they were all girls, he could fuck them all. Line them up against the trees and go from one to the next. They would love it. He had enough energy and balls for a battalion of broads. And the way he felt, he could screw a dozen of them without getting tired.
But the closer he got to the voices, the more he sadly realized that at least one of the people out there was a man. Then there was a scream. Not just a scream of excitement. But a definite scream of anguish. Jon started running. He was sure some girl was in trouble. He heard the scream again. He ran as fast as he could now, which was very fast, in the hopes of finding out what was wrong.
He found out.
He ran no farther.
He stood among the evergreens and saw exactly what was happening. There before him were Rosanne and his father. His old man was holding Rosanne by her arm, and her dress had been tom from her body. She was not pretending. She was in real danger.
CHAPTER NINE
"Now look, son...."
Jon barely moved. "Let go of her. I said, let go of her."
"I want you to stay out of this, young man. I think you've caused enough trouble around here lately."
"I'm serious, Dad. Let go of her arm. Now!" Rosanne struggled to break free, but Marcus wouldn't release her. "Jon, please, help me!"
"Dad, I don't want to do anything we'll both regret, but I've never been more serious in my life. Either you let her go, or I'll make you."
Marcus released her arm, but he had a strong hold of her long hair, and he held her by it-causing Rosanne intense pain. "Now Jon, if you have any mind at all, you'll listen to what I have to say. I want you to turn around and go back to the house. I'm not playing around with either of you. Either do what I say, or I'll make you both regret the day you were born."
"I'm not going back, Dad, not until you let go of my sister."
Marcus yanked Rosanne's hair real hard. She shouted. Jon took a step toward them. Marcus spoke so angrily at Rosanne that spit sprayed from his mouth. "Tell that cocksucking brother of yours to get the hell away from here. Tell him! Or I'll break your lousy neck!"
Rosanne pleaded. "Jon, baby, please ... do what he says. He's hurting me!"
Marcus reached in front of her with his other hand and furiously ripped the rest of her dress. She wasn't wearing a bra so her boobs showed. She screamed.
Jon walked closer.
Marcus tried to stop him. "If you don't want to find your sister with a broken arm, you'll turn around and go back to the summerhouse. I'll not have any son of mine turning my one and only daughter into a whore."
"You should have thought about that six months ago Dad, before you seduced her for the first time. She needs me now, and I'm going to help her."
Marcus twisted her hair. "You told him? You told him about that? You cunt!"
Jon leaped toward them and separated them instantly. Rosanne hurried aside. Jon turned his father around toward him and bashed his fist into the man's face. Marcus went sprawling on the ground. Blood dripped from his mouth. He tried to get up but couldn't. He gazed at his two children as they began running away.
Rosanne cried hysterically as she stumbled through the forest, and Jon tried to help her along the best he could.
"I can't. I can't run."
"You've got to."
"I can't!"
"Try!"
"What's the use! What's the use in trying to do anything!"
"You need me, Roz, and I'm going to help you. I'm going to take you away from all this crap."
She sobbed and kept running, holding his hand. "Look at me. Just look at what he's done! I hate him!"
"This was the last straw, Roz. I'm not going to let him have anything to do with us ever again. I'm not ever going to let him have the chance of beating you up again."
"Beating me up? Beating me up?' She laughed like a madwoman. "He wasn't just trying to beat me up, Jon. He was trying to rape me. Rape! He was trying it again!"
Jon stopped and held her shoulders. "I'm going to take you away from here, and we're going to start a whole new life for ourselves somewhere. We're going to make it together, baby, the two of us. I'm not ever going to let you out of my sight. I'm not going to let anybody else in this whole motherfucking world harm you one single goddamned bit. I'll die before I let anyone hurt you again."
They packed their suitcases, and Jon rushed into the master bedroom, looking for money. His mother was sitting where she had been sitting for most of the time during the past three days-on the old Morris chair.
Her eyes were bloodshot, and she stared at Jon while he raced around the room. She looked puzzled by what he was doing but didn't seem to be able to make much of an effort to either stop him or object. All she could do was whimper.
"Jon?"
"Sorry, Mom. We're in a hurry."
"Who's in a hurry?"
"Me and Roz. We're leaving."
"Leaving?"
Jon opened and shut the dresser drawers in rapid succession. "Yes. Leaving. For good. Immediately."
"But I don't understand. Why?"
"Ask Dad."
"No, I'm asking you. Oh, I know your father and I have been upset with you and Rosanne lately, but things will blow over. They always do."
"Not this time."
"Jon, speak to me a little while."
"I want to be gone before he gets back."
"Darling, I was brought up differently than you kids today. We were taught that it was wrong for a young man or young woman to reveal certain parts of themselves to each other unless that was done within the sanctity of marriage."
Jon walked across the room and opened his father's closet. "What do you mean, that nude business?"
"Yes. I realize now that you and Rosanne were only playing with each other. Trying out your wings. Showing each other a little bit of curiosity."
"This doesn't have anything to do with that, Mom."
"I'm willing to forget. So? You took your clothes off together. So what does that mean? That's no great big unforgivable crime. People could do a lot worse than that."
"You can say that again."
"So? Maybe I'm old fashioned. Maybe I have to change some of my ways. But that's no reason for us all to ignore one another."
"Mom, I told you before. This doesn't have anything to do with that."
Rosanne came to the door, dressed and ready to leave, and set down her suitcases. She didn't come all the way into the room.
Johanna looked from one of her children to the other and then slowly began to rise. "Rosanne, maybe you can tell me what this is all about."
"I can't, Momma."
"Jon, tell me what you're doing."
"Looking for some money."
"Money! Well, if it's money you're looking for, why didn't you just say so?" She went to her purse and opened it.
Jon accepted what cash she gave him and then kissed her forehead. Johanna embraced him tightly and wept. Rosanne joined them, and the three of them stood very close together. Johanna held her arms around both of them. "I hope you kids know what you're doing."
"Yes, Mother," Jon said. "We do. And we have no choice. We're going away, but we'll write."
"And remember, Momma, this isn't your fault. Daddy's brought this all on by himself. Maybe someday he'll be able to explain it to you."
"I don't know. Maybe he will. Maybe I'll never know what's going on around here. I just can't keep up with everything any more."
Jon backed away toward the door. "Well, Mom, we have to go now. Rosanne, you ready?"
"Yes."
Johanna blew her nose. "There was a time when I would have stopped you kids from doing this. But I'm not so sure anymore. Maybe what you're doing is the best thing for you. I don't know what's happened to this family. Honest to God, I don't. Perhaps it's just as well that you find your own way. I don't know what's best nowadays. I can't figure things out the way I used to."
Jon and Rosanne departed as quickly as they could.
They hitchhiked and got a ride in the back of an old pickup truck. Then they got another ride for ten miles to the other side of Columbia Falls. They weren't sure where they wanted to go, but they didn't stop to think about it yet. They both felt much too happy just getting away from the summerhouse and from their parents to worry about anything now. And it was a beautiful day for hitchhiking and riding.
On the other side of Columbia Falls they were picked up by a man driving a mobile home. "I'm only going as far as Sullivan, but if that'll help, you're welcome to ride."
They assured the man they appreciated every ride they got and sat down on the floor at the rear of the long, spacious mobile home. Jon leaned against a bench along the back window, and Rosanne sat between his legs with her head upon his shoulder. They both faced front and relaxed.
Rosanne tilted her head back. "It would be nice to ride wherever we're going all the way in this, wouldn't it?"
"Yes." He slipped his hand under her blouse and held it loosely against her firm buxom breast. They rocked gently back and forth, and Rosanne slid deeper between his legs.
Jon felt so good being with her and having a luscious breast like hers to hold onto. He figured she felt the same way because she started to get warmer and warmer.
"Jon?"
"Huh?"
"Wouldn't you like to make love to me right now?"
"Yes."
"Let's."
"No"
"He can't see us."
"Yes, he can."
"He probably won't mind."
"I mind."
"Oh, Jon."
"It isn't right, Rosanne. Let's wait until we're alone beside the highway again."
"You mean, and do it in the bushes?"
"Something like that."
"Promise?"
"Roz ..
"Just tell me yes or no."
"Yes."
She turned around and gave him a kiss. "Oh Jon! I'm so happy we're doing this! You have no idea how wonderful this makes me feel."
He smiled and cuddled her in his arms again. He slipped his hand under her blouse once more and massaged her breast. He swept his hand up under it. He glided his hand down over it. And he pressed the palm of his hand directly against the nipple. Rosanne crossed her legs and rested her arms upon his thighs.
They rode in silence all the way to Sullivan, thanked their driver for his kindness, and were then outside along the highway once again. The mobile home turned down a side road and disappeared over the hill.
There was a large farm field of alfalfa right beside the highway where they were, and Jon carried two of their suitcases across the road shoulder toward it. The tall alfalfa was bright green and lush.
"Jon? Where are you going?"
"Where do you think?"
"I don't know."
)
"Into this field. You said you wanted to make love, didn't you?"
Rosanne clapped her hands and followed her brother with the other two suitcases. They trampled through the crop until they were quite a ways from the traffic. Jon completely undressed, haphazardly tossing his clothes aside, by the time Rosanne finished examining their colorful private surroundings. All they could hear were birds.
Although Rosanne was still wearing her clothes, Jon held out his hand and brought her closer. He held her in his arms and kissed her on the lips. Rosanne weakened in his embrace and explored his hairless bronzed chest with her fingertips. They were soon squatting lower and lower until they were sitting on the ground-the tops of the alfalfa high over their heads.
Jon rolled over on top of her and propped himself up on his elbows so that he could kiss her lips some more without mashing her tits. Rosanne's blouse was partially unbuttoned, exposing much of her mountainous breasts.
Jon thought he was going to cream against her dress. She was holding his ass and wedging her fingers between his buttocks, and he thought she would make him come.
He rolled over on his back and spread out his arms and legs. Rosanne crawled over him and positioned herself between his thighs, kneeling. She took his cock with both hands, pulled it slightly away from his abdomen, struggled with it to keep it from snapping back against him, and bowed to suck it into her mouth.
Jon began writhing. The pleasure was so intense and his muscles felt so relaxed that he suspected she could make him come in no time with that kind of slow, easy-going sucking. "Oh, Roz. Goddamn. Baby, that feels good."
She took all the time in the world for each full gulp of his throbbing hardon. Whenever her lips reached the swollen cockhead, she twirled her tongue around and around the helmet, licked the tiny slit, licked the underside of the huge organ. Whenever her lips reached the base of his cock, she allowed the organ to swell up even larger inside her and played with his nuts, crushing them against her chin.
"Jesus! Oh, God! Roz! Eat it, baby! I've got to come!" He even whimpered a little bit. He wanted to race around the farm field or something, he was so worked up. He couldn't wait to shoot all his cream down her throat.
Rosanne let his dick slip from her mouth, and she wiped her lips with her tongue. She still held onto his meat though. She held it with both hands and kept it pointing at the sky. "How was that, Jon?"
"Terrific!"
"I've missed it. I haven't been able to suck you off in three or four days."
"I know. Go to it, babe. Suck it off. Make it shoot." 'Will you still have enough energy left to fuck me?"
"Yes"
"Because I need it too, Jon."
"Suck me off real good and I'll give you the fucking of your life. I promise. I'll dick you so much, you'll never stop coming."
"Not ever?"
"Never."
"Jon, I think you're the sexiest sonofabitch who ever lived. Okay. I'll do it." She resumed sucking.
Jon bent his legs so that his knees were in the air. He wished to God he had made her undress before they got started. All he could see of her now was that area of her boobs showing because of the opening in her blouse.
She sucked him very professionally. One thing he loved about Rosanne's sucking was the way she had of taking her time-of bringing him right up to the brink and then pausing until his orgasm lost some of its inertia.
His cock opened her mouth so much all the time that he always felt a little bit of her teeth rubbing up and down it. But that was all right. Roz' teeth added to the tingling excitement. If his dick wasn't so big, he figured, she might not love eating it as much.
"Roz, that feels really super. Take your time with it, baby. Make it last the way you always do. Ahhh!"
Rosanne pulled her mouth away. Jon had come within seconds of coming that time. He was so close that he almost came even though her mouth was no longer on his rod.
"I'm sorry, Jon."
"That's all right. Damn! That was a close call!"
"I couldn't help it, Jon. It was tasting so good that I had to keep sucking and sucking."
"Maybe I better fuck you now. Maybe I shouldn't wait to come this way. I've been saving it up for so long now, Roz, that it's driving me crazy. Insane, Roz, insane."
"Okay." She pulled her blouse up over her head.
When her arms were in the air that way as she struggled to get the blouse off her arms, Jon thought that her boobs looked better than they normally did-which was pretty damn good. Rut with her arms in the air, her tits were stretched in a very appetizing manner. He reached over and helped her with the blouse.
Her dress was off in no time, and Jon was over her before she even had a chance to straighten out her hair. He arched his back once and plunged his dick into her cunt all the way with one steady stroke.
He didn't wait for her to completely get accustomed to his throbbing pecker. He started fucking her right away. He had to come, and he had to come fast. He was getting blue balls.
"Come on, Jon. Not so hard, honey, not so hard."
"Can't be helped."
"Yes, it can. You're fucking me too hard this time, Jon. Please. Jon?"
"You feel beautiful."
"Jon, it's tearing me apart."
"That's because there's more come in me now than usual. I've been jacking off so much these past three days, Roz, that fucking is blowing my mind."
"It's better now, Jon. It's easier now."
"How's it feel?"
"Good, honey, real good."
"Does it feel big and fat and strong, the way you like it?"
"Yes!"
"You want me to fuck you harder?"
"Yes!"
"Harder than this?"
"Yes, Jon, yes!"
He laughed a little bit and rammed into her with all his might. He came buckets. He zapped his cream into her with so much power that he didn't think he would be able to stay on top of her. That twat of Rosanne's really gripped his dick like no other in the world. It seemed to milk his cock of every drop he had in him. And he wouldn't have been surprised if his balls were working overtime to brew up more fresh come for him to fire into her.
To help Rosanne reach a climax, too, he kept his cock shoved into her and massaged it around and around her cunt. He saw that she was getting close to her moment, and when he thought she was about to explode, he reared backwards and slammed into her one last time.
She screamed and flung her arms about wildly and kicked her legs. She bounced her ass up and down off the ground to consume as much of his organ as she could. He felt her coming all over the place.
CHAPTER TEN
They returned to the highway. Whenever a car approached, Jon extended his thumb, but nobody stopped-nobody except one man who said he'd drive them as far as Portland if Rosanne let him fuck her. Jon told the man to go screw himself. The man told Jon to suck his cock, and just as Jon was opening the car door to punch the man in his stomach, he drove away. Jon tried to see where he was from by reading the license plate, but the car was moving too fast. "Sonofabitch. I hate people like that."
Rosanne was sitting on a suitcase. "Well, we're bound to run into a few of those."
"I don't care. People like that make me sick."
"Jon?"
"What. Oops. Here comes another car. What, Roz?" He followed the car with his thumb as it drove past. "What?"
"We have some money now. Maybe we can take a bus."
"Yeah, we can take a bus. But where?"
"Well, I was thinking maybe we should go back to Hartford. If we keep hitchhiking and riding around all summer, we aren't going to have any money left."
"I don't know what we should do." He put his foot up on a suitcase.
"Well, if we went back to Hartford ... promise you won't get mad at me?"
"What?"
'Well, I was thinking we could find jobs."
"Jobs! I don't want to work, Rosanne. Why should I get a job?"
"Because, silly, we're going to have to have some money if we go down to Florida and live together."
"Dad has money. We can get what we need from him."
"After what's happened?"
"Because of what's happened."
"What do you mean?"
Jon started walking back and forth. "We can get whatever money we need to live in Florida together because he'll pay us to keep our mouths shut."
"Jon, that's blackmail."
"It's not blackmail. It's an even exchange. It isn't even that. Dad's been supporting us this long, he'll support us a while longer."
"I don't know if I like that."
"It's better than working."
"I don't know."
"Roz, it's right there on a platter for the taking! Why shouldn't we take some money if it's given to us? Look, that bastard tried to rape you, for chrissake!
You shouldn't feel guilty about taking anything from him that'll help."
"Well, we'll see. I just think it might be better if we're completely on our own. Do you know what I mean? I'm not even sure if we should let Momma and Daddy know we're living together when we go Florida. I think we should take care of ourselves, honey. I don't think we should have anything more to do with them."
"Gosh, Roz, the idea of working is really a bummer. But maybe you're right. Maybe we should do that."
She stood up. "And you know what else I was thinking?"
"What?"
"I don't think we ought to tell people that we're brother and sister. I don't think that's such a good idea. Especially if we're going to be kissing and all that. It'd look a lot better if we just let them believe we were friends."
"Okay with me."
"I feel much closer to you than just a sister, Jon."
"I feel much closer to you than a brother."
Rosanne walked over to him and draped her arms across his shoulders. "Do you think we're ... doing .., anything wrong?"
"How can we be doing anything wrong? We aren't hurting anybody, are we?"
"No, I guess not. I guess not. It would hurt Momma and Daddy if they knew, but they don't."
"They better not. No, I felt bad about it earlier in the week, but I don't now."
"I'm glad. You've made me very happy, Jon, you have no idea. I was so miserable until just the other day." She turned and walked away.
Another car came. Jon held out his thumb. But the car drove on. He hoped they wouldn't have to wait too long for their next ride. He didn't want Rosanne to get jumpy. Whenever she got impatient or nervous, she was hell to live with.
Rosanne clapped her hands together. "If we don't get a ride in another ten minutes, let's go back in the field."
"Roz! We just started hitching again."
"But I mean if we don't get a ride."
"We aren't going to get a ride if we're over there fucking. You really like to fuck a lot, don't you?"
"Doesn't every girl?"
"Not the way you do."
"Well, that's not a very nice compliment. I wouldn't exactly say you were celibate. No wonder you had trouble with other girls. What did you tell them? That they liked to fuck too much?"
"Shit."
Rosanne looked down the road. "Oh, come on, car. Jesus."
"Be patient."
"I'm patient. I just want to get on the road again, that's all. I'd like to get back to Hartford so we can get things organized."
"So you can call Tom Fisher, you mean."
"What?"
"He was your last boyfriend, wasn't he?"
"Yes, Jon, my very last."
"You aren't going to see him anymore?"
"No, silly. I told you already. Now that we're together, I don't have to call any other boys."
"I do that much for you?"
"Oh, Jon, don't start that again. Jesus Christ, sometimes you act so insecure."
"I'm just asking a question."
"And immature."
"Okay, forget it."
"Yes, baby, you do that much for me."
"Come here."
"Jon! Make up your mind! One minute you say I'm too affectionate. The next minute you want to hold me in your arms."
"I didn't say you were too affectionate. I said you like to fuck a lot."
"Will you put out your thumb? There's another car coming."
"It's too far down the road."
"Oh, all right." She reluctantly walked over to him and hugged him. She pressed her face against his. "Oh, Jon, there's never been another boy who's been able to keep me under control the way you have."
"Not even Tom Fisher?"
Rosanne sat down on the suitcase again. "Tom Fisher was ridiculous. All he wanted to talk about was politics. It really turned him on. I mean it really turned him on. He'd drive me out to Manchester's Lake, and we'd sit there, and he'd get started on his politics, and he'd get himself all worked up over Republicans and Democrats. And then right in the middle of it ... right in the middle of some election returns or something ... he'd want to start screwing." 'Weird."
'Weird isn't the word for Tom Fisher. And he was one of the better ones I've known."
"Wow."
"What about you?"
"What do you mean?"
"The chicks you've known."
"Oh, I don't know. I've already told you a little bit about them. I don't want to talk about it."
'Were they cute?"
"Roz...."
"I guess they had to be."
"Roz, do you mind? Can't we talk about something else? Tell me more about the time Dad took you to bed."
"That's improving our conversation? I don't want to tell you anything about that. I probably told you told you too much about that already. Besides, it wasn't to bed that he took me. It was to the electric scoreboard at the baseball diamond."
"The what?" Jon let a car go by without even sticking out his thumb.
"That electric scoreboard. You know, that thing behind the high school? That's where we went. Right beside the creek. There are all kinds of bushes and things there."
Jon laughed. "I don't believe it."
"Well, nobody's asking you to believe it, stupid. Nobody's asking you to butt your nose into other people's business either. I don't even want to talk about that, Jon. I told you that already. Listen, either we get a ride pretty soon, or I'm going to start to walk." 'Was it at night?"
'Was what at night?"
"It had to be at night. By the old Elmwood Creek, huh. Damn, I'd like to bust that guy in the gut again for doing that to you."
"Listen to me, Jon Williams, either you stop talking about this every two seconds, or I'll leave you here by yourself."
"What did he do? Did he rip your clothes off like he did this morning?"
"No, goddamnit, no! I had as much to do with it happening as he did. Well, not as much but almost. Okay? You satisfied? I enjoyed it while it was happening. It wasn't until later that I started hating myself for it ... and him. Okay? So now you know the whole sordid truth."
"You gave in?"
"I teased him! Will you stop asking me all these questions? You're driving me crazy, Jon! You really are!"
"How could you give in to something like that? I mean, with your own father and everything?"
"It was easy, you ass, because I didn't know any better! How many times do I have to tell you? Now will you lay off already? This is some fine life we're starting together. If we're going to start dragging skeletons out of the closet, Jon, I'm sure we'd find just as many in yours as there are in mine. Maybe more. Maybe ten times more."
"Roz, I'm just trying to understand you, that's all." He stepped closer so he could touch her, but she jerked away.
"Don't touch me. And if you don't think you have anything to hide, what about that time you let your friend, what's-his-name, go down on you? That's not a skeleton in the closet? If that's nothing you want to forget, then I don't know what is."
"There's no similarity."
"You make me sick, Jon, you really do. What do you mean, there's no similarity? It's all right if we dig up my past, but when we talk about yours ... oh, the big handsome stud boy gets embarrassed."
"I'm not embarrassed. It's just not the same thing. I let him do it out of curiosity. I was feeling very lonely. It didn't do any harm. I saw what it was like and got it out of my system."
"Yeah, and he went on to suck off every guy in school."
"So?"
"So? So that means you were an accomplice! Just as much as I was an accomplice for Daddy!"
"It's still not the same thing. I knew what I was doing. I told him it was all right. But you didn't. Dad made you do something that was against your wishes. He took advantage of you."
"Bull." She dismissed him with a wave of her hand.
"It isn't bull."
"It is too. You're full of bull."
"Anyway, Roz, I told you about that episode because I wanted to trust you."
"And I wanted to trust you about Daddy."
"So can we quit fighting?"
"I'm not fighting. I'm just trying to set the record straight. Daddy did not rape me back there at the electric scoreboard behind the school. He made a pass at me, and I responded by teasing him a little bit. One thing led to the next, and pretty soon he was all over me. I fought at first, but then I gave in. And then I fought again ... to get the whole thing out of my mind. But it stayed there. And it's still there. And that's why I need you, Jon."
She seemed to be on the verge of tears or on the verge of getting angry again-one couldn't tell which. But she needed him. He could see that. And he wanted to make her feel better.
He embraced her and patted her head. "I'm sorry, baby. I shouldn't have started up about that again. We should leave all that sort of thing behind. We should look ahead. We have so much to look forward to."
"No, it's okay that we talked about it. Maybe it will help you understand. And I didn't mean to be so cruel about you letting your friend do that to you, Jon. I should be the last person in the world criticizing someone else for what he does. I mean ... after all ... I'm the one who got us in this mess."
He made her raise her face by touching the bottom of her chin. He smiled. "What mess? We aren't in any mess, Roz. Are we?"
"I don't know."
Finally, a late model compact pulled over to the side of the road and stopped for them. Jon saw that the driver was an attractive woman in her late thirties or thereabouts. "I'm going to Belfast. Will that help you kids?"
Jon assured her that it would, so he and Rosanne climbed into the tiny back seat. There were too many packages next to the woman in front.
Jon and Rosanne held each other's hands on his thigh. They were happy because Belfast was a couple of hours away, and they felt happy because they could sit so close together.
As was his habit, Jon tried to find out as much about the woman driver as he could by listening to her and by watching her. She wasn't bad looking for being somewhat older than the type of female he liked best-girls of Rosanne's age. But she was appealing, the driver was, in her own way. She looked very well kept and quite proud of her appearance. She wore more makeup and primped her hair more conspicuously than Jon really liked, but women of her generation dug things like that. If it made her look and feel better, then what the hell.
They all played the little game of chit-chat awhile, and from her tone of voice, Jon could tell that the driver woman-Elena, as she introduced herself-first of all, was no typical Establishment cunt, and secondly, had quite a mind of her own and wasn't in the least bit unsure of herself.
Jon admired that feeling of women's lib in a woman, just so long as she didn't start to think that she had balls. If a woman was independent, she had that much more going for her, and he could tell that Elena was extremely independent.
He was curious. "Are you married?"
Rosanne squeezed his hand real hard and looked at him out of the comer of her eye, but Jon didn't see anything wrong with asking a question like that. He wanted to know. He was interested.
"Not now. I was. Up until about a year ago."
Jon said, "I hope that wasn't too personal."
"Not at all."
Jon then squeezed Rosanne's hand to let her know that she wasn't always right. The three of them conversed every so often, and for the rest of the time they listened to music from the car radio.
Jon couldn't help but notice that Elena adjusted her rear view mirror a couple of times, and he suspected the only reason she did that was so she could see him and Rosanne better. He wasn't sure because Elena put on sunglasses.
As it turned out, they learned that Elena lived alone in a farmhouse outside Belfast. She had inherited the farm and had hired help to tend it for her. They lived on the property, too, but in other houses.
Her main business was real estate.
Jon enjoyed talking to her. She was so fluent and sounded very well rounded, but he got the distinct impression that Rosanne didn't like his familiarity with Elena at all. He didn't know what his sister was so worried about. The woman was giving them a ride. It only made sense to be friendly.
He dozed once for awhile and appreciated the fact that Rosanne rested her hand on his crotch. It felt comforting there. He was sure Elena couldn't see what his sister was doing. The last thing he wanted was a jealous triangle.
Elena turned down the car radio. "Have you kids been going together long?"
Jon was resting comfortably and didn't want to sit up. He let Rosanne do the talking for a change.
"Two years."
He had to take notice of that though. Two years! Why was she coming up with a story like that! He had to hand it to Roz. When she lied, she really came up with a dilly.
"That's a long time to be seeing the same person," Elena said.
"Yeah, well, we love each other very much, don't we, Jon?"
"Huh? Yeah."
"You kids have been going together longer than my husband and I were married. We separated after the first year."
'Well, it isn't always easy," Rosanne said, "especially when you see another boy you'd really like to get to know."
He didn't know what his sister was doing. She was really shoveling out the bullshit. He hoped he could get back to sleep.
"I wish you kids the best of luck. Two attractive kids like you shouldn't have any trouble at all staying together. I can't imagine either of you thinking you could find something better with anybody else."
"That's how I hope we'll be able to keep it."
Jon gave Rosanne a good punch in her leg. He was getting a little bit sick of her bragging and little white lies. It was one thing for them to pretend they were friends, but it was another thing altogether different to let that illusion get out of control.
Rosanne leaned forward against the front seat so she could speak more directly at Elena. "There was one girl who tried to come between us."
"There was?"
"Patty. That was her name. A real pretty girl too. Jon really liked her. Didn't you, Jon?"
He refused to answer. If she wanted to go ahead and make up these stories, then that was her business. He wanted no part of it. He saw no need for it whatsoever. So far as he was concerned, Elena was being real nice and very honest with them.
"What happened to your boyfriend? What did you say his name was?"
"Jon. I guess he's fallen asleep. We were up real late last night talking about fidelity. About how important it is. Jon? Are you awake, honey?"
No. I'm sound asleep. Why don't you lean back, Roz, and stop chattering so much?"
Rosanne leaned back next to him again, and he punched her leg once more. If she didn't start behaving herself, he would get real mad. He couldn't stand the way she was acting.
"I was just telling our driver about the time...."
"Elena," he corrected her. "She's not our driver. She's Elena."
"I was just telling her about the time Patty tried to come between us."
"Who the hell is Patty?"
"You know! Patty!" She grabbed one of his fingers and started bending it backwards.
"Ow! You're hurting me."
"I wished you'd pay attention, Jon. Either go to sleep or cooperate, one of the two."
Elena laughed, pulled off both her earrings, and threw them on the dashboard. "Don't bother. I think I know what you're saying."
Jon looked at his sister. "You see that? You're not fooling anybody. Now just lie back and relax. Watch the scenery or something. Jesus, Rosanne. Why are you getting so pushy all of a sudden?"
"I'm not getting pushy. You're getting dumb."
"Yeah, well, it's more relaxing being dumb that it is being around someone pushy all the time."
Rosanne nervously laughed and placed her arms on the front seat. "We argue all the time. It comes from being so close. Sometimes I feel we really are married, Jon and I."
He grabbed hold of her dress and pulled her back against the seat. "Either you knock this off or out you go."
She kept silent. In fact, she didn't ask anything for so long that Jon began to worry. He touched her hand, but she refused to let him show any affection. He didn't know why she was so upset. If she was jealous because of Elena, she was making an ass of herself-because so far as Jon could see, there was no reason to be jealous. And furthermore, he told himself, if Roz was going to be like this every time they met another female, she could just forget the whole idea about sustaining an affair with him.
Elena slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road. She stopped the car, took off her sunglasses, and turned half way around toward the two in the back seat. "Well, this is as far as I go."
She had such beautiful eyes! He couldn't believe how blue and captivating they were! "Thanks for the lift."
"I was just going to suggest ... now I don't know how you kids will take this. But my farm is about three miles from here down the road. And since it's getting pretty late ... what time is it?" She checked her watch. "Almost five-thirty. What I was thinking was, maybe you'd like to come down and have some dinner with me before continuing your journey. I've got lots of food, and all the vegetables are fresh, and you'd be welcome to freshen up or whatever it is you'd like to do before going on your way again."
Jon glanced over at his sister, but he couldn't tell how she felt about it. She was still pouting. Rosanne was in one of her bitchy moods. "Roz?"
"What."
"What do you say?"
"I don't care. It's up to you."
Elena turned off the radio. "I'm not being completely unselfish about this, to tell you the truth. I have some very heavy packages up here and in the trunk that I'd like to get into the house tonight, and I'm afraid all my help has left for the day."
Rosanne said, "I thought you said they all lived right there on the farm with you."
"They do. But it's a big farm. They live quite a distance from my house. I could call them though. There's no problem about that. It's just that I presume they're having dinner now themselves or preparing to. And besides ... I'd really love to have you two stay. It's not very often I have a chance to meet young people such as yourselves. I really admire you for being out on the road and doing your own thing, as they say."
"Sure," Jon said, "we'll stay. Won't we, Roz?"
"Sure!' She nodded her head so enthusiastically that Jon knew she wasn't being sincere.
He didn't care. He loved new adventures, and he liked Elena very much. Not to sleep with her. But just to know.
"Good!" Elena turned around and continued driving. "If you're worried about getting back here after dinner, don't. I'll take you to Belfast. That's just a few miles ahead."
The logs in the fireplace blazed brightly. Jon was sprawled on the white bearskin rug in front of the hearth, and Rosanne sat on a chair not far away. Elena came back into the living room with a fresh pitcher of champagne punch. She was wearing some kind of dress that clung to her tits and then dropped straight down all the way to the floor. She was also barefoot.
All the lights in the rustic living room were out. The flames from the fire lit the room sufficiently so that everyone could faintly see everyone else.
After setting the pitcher down on the flagstone by the edge of the rug, Elena poked the fire. "Do you like it?"
Jon stretched his arms. "Yes. It's great."
Elena picked up the pitcher and poured more punch for Rosanne. Then she filled Jon's glass and set it down next to him. The soft classical music almost made him want to sleep. If only he could live in a place like this year round!
Elena sat opposite Rosanne on a sofa. Jon was on the rug between the two women. He felt very euphoric. This was such a radical change from all the chaos of the summerhouse activities. He was happy he and Rosanne stopped here. He hoped his sister would learn a lesson from the tranquility. He wished Rosanne had the same tastes and moods as Elena. Rosanne was so immature by comparison.
Jon had never met a woman quite like Elena before. He had fucked a couple of teachers at school who were refined and cultured, but Elena was more down to earth than any of them. She had fixed such a wonderful dinner for them! Steak and lobster. A fancy seafood salad. Hot baked bread. And for dessert-fresh strawberries and brandy. It had been sensational. Almost like a sexual experience. Like the way she was sitting there on the sofa.
She looked so damned dignified-such a contrast to Roz' sloppiness. The perspiration around Elena's nose really turned him on. And the way she sat so straight, holding her glass of punch.
Rosanne said, "I think we ought to have a threesome!"
Jon couldn't believe his sister could be so brazen. It just didn't fit. "Naw," he said, "if you two want to have a threesome, then you go ahead. I'm tired." Rosanne lowered her voice. "You're always tired." And that was it. Nobody said anything for quite awhile. Jon didn't feel tense at all. He guessed Rosanne might have been tense, just the way she usually was, but he felt calm and warm and good.
Elena laughed.
Rosanne asked, "What's so funny?"
"I just got what he said."
"What did he say?"
"He said if you and I wanted to have a threesome, we should. That's very funny. I didn't catch on till just now."
"Jon's very clever that way, aren't you, Jon?"
Jon rolled over on his back. "I sure don't like slaughtering animals to make rugs of them, but this sure does feel great."
Rosanne sipped her drink. "I don't like killing animals just so you can throw them down on the floor and walk all over them either. I think it's disgusting." Jon propped his head up by planting his elbow on the rug. He lay sideways toward Elena, who was still on the sofa, and by the arrangement in the room, his back was automatically to Rosanne. "What did you put in this punch?"
"Do you like it?"
"Like it! I think it's fabulous."
"Thank you. I'm glad."
Rosanne said, "You can probably buy this in the store ... if you're twenty-one. Jon isn't even twenty-one yet."
"I am too."
"You are not."
Elena said, "I'm thirty-six."
Jon crossed his legs. "Really? I thought you were about that age. How did you get this farm? I mean, you have so much land here. How many horses do you have?"
"Three."
Rosanne smacked her lips. "She said she inherited this place. From somebody who died. If you paid attention now and then, you wouldn't have to ask questions so often. He's always doing that."
"I bet it's a lot of fun living out here on the farm. We live in Hartford ... Connecticut."
"Yes, Jon, she knows. We told her that in the car." Elena thought for a moment. "Hartford. I know some people there. I'm sorry. What were we saying? Oh, yes. Well, it's a lot of fun living on a farm, but it's a lot of work too. I mean, the people who run this place for me really put in the hours ... year round. But it's good here. I love it. I wouldn't want to live anywhere else in the world. I'm from Chicago originally. Then shortly after I left my husband, my stepfather died and left me this."
"You grew up here?"
"No, this was just some property he had. He had property and things all over the country. Well, when he died ... which was the same year my marriage fell apart ... well, I was real glad I had this place to come to. It's been a real life saver for me."
"I can imagine." Jon rolled over on his stomach again. He folded his arms and stared into the fire. The logs burned evenly, and the warmth felt good. "I bet it snows a lot here."
"Oh, heavens, yes."
"Maine is a very spectacular state. Our family has a summerhouse up the coast. We stay there every year."
Rosanne suddenly coughed a little bit. "What he means is, his family has a cottage on one side of a lake up there, and just by coincidence, my family has one on the other side." She coughed again.
Elena asked, "Are you all right?"
"Yeah. It just went down the wrong way. Christ, this stuff is powerful."
Jon was beginning to wish that Rosanne wasn't even there. She was really upsetting the whole mood. Every time things were going real nicely, Rosanne always had to butt in and light a firecracker.
Elena got up to refill her glass. Fortunately for Jon, the pitcher was close to him, so Elena had to cross in front of him to reach it. When she stopped, he smelled the marvelous perfume she was wearing. It wasn't brash and sassy like some of the shit Rosanne had. It was real mild and subtle. It enveloped him. It made him want to hold Elena in his arms. All he could see because of her floor length dress were her feet.
"Do you kids go to school?" She got up and returned to the sofa.
"Jon's still in high school. I'm in college."
"Oh? Where?"
"Miami."
"Really? What are you going to study?"
"Boys." Rosanne giggled and giggled.
Jon was annoyed, very annoyed. And not only that, he was embarrassed, incredibly embarrassed. Rosanne was really acting like a fool. Whether she was pretending to be his girlfriend or not, it didn't make any difference. She was still humiliating the shit out of him, and he didn't like it. He had hoped with all his heart that their intimacy over the past week had done some good to wake her up to some of the facts of life. He wasn't sure now if he was doing her any good. She was still acting just as belligerent and spiteful as ever.
He got up and went to the washroom. When he came back, he was amazed to see what he saw. Rosanne was lying lengthwise on the sofa, resting her head on Elena's lap, and hugging her arms around the older girl's body.
The music was louder now, and apparently Rosanne did not hear him return. He was flabbergasted. Elena gave him a reassuring look to let him know that everything was okay and that he shouldn't worry about anything.
She stroked Rosanne's hair and massaged her shoulder. She patted Rosanne's back and comforted her like a mother. It appeared to Jon that for the first time all evening Roz was starting to unwind and settle down and relax. He was glad for that and returned to his place on the white bearskin rug.
If only his sister could be herself all the time! She was real nice to be with when she wasn't hostile, defensive, and scheming. He unbuttoned his shirt and placed another log on the fire.
Rosanne started to get up, but Elena encouraged her to remain where she was. Rosanne hugged the older girl more tightly and pressed her face against Elena's lap. Then she slowly rolled over on her back, still resting her head on Elena's thighs, and closed her eyes.
Elena glanced at Jon-questioningly. Jon shrugged his shoulders and nodded as if to let Elena know that he wasn't upset with anything that was happening. Christ, if Elena could make Roz feel that she was loved, then Jon was all for it. And as he had realized before, he was really too tired to feel unbearably aroused himself. He was aroused but not aggressively. He wasn't in his usual mood of wanting to dive in and start fucking everything in sight. He was happy that his sister was finally starting to get along with someone.
Elena casually unbuttoned Rosanne's blouse part way down her body, and when enough buttons had been unfastened, Elena placed her hand on one of Rosanne's breasts.
The older girl really seemed to be content with what she was doing, and Rosanne was definitely content. She was like a little child. She was so restful and so peaceful that Jon didn't dare say or do anything. He watched as Elena slowly began massaging Rosanne's breast.
Elena was so graceful and endearing. She treated Rosanne's tits with tenderness. She held a boob in her hand, released it, smoothly gliding her fingers up between the two breasts, and circled her hand around and around one of them. Occasionally she squeezed one of the tits a little harder than usual, but by and large, she was very gentle. And her gentleness, Jon noticed, was having a remarkable effect on his sister.
He hadn't seen her this docile in a long time. She remained thoroughly passive and cooperative. Her heavier breathing and her lip movements were about her only signs of activity.
Rosanne spoke. "What happened to Jon?"
' "He's here."
"He is?" She turned her face toward him. "Oh. Hi Jon. I didn't hear you come back."
Elena caressed Rosanne's face several times and stroked her hair-to make sure she didn't get anxious again, Jon assumed. "Hi," he said. "Don't let me stop you."
Rosanne frowned and exhibited some frustration. "I'm sorry, Jon, for acting up the way I sometimes do. I'm so ashamed of myself." She quickly looked away from him and buried her face against Elena's lap once more.
Elena comforted his sister and said, "Shhh. It's all right. Nobody's upset with you. Just relax. Let your muscles relax and let your mind relax."
Rosanne shook her head. Jon couldn't hear too well, but he thought she said, "I'm just so ashamed. I don't want to be that way. I don't want to do the wrong thing all the time."
Elena smiled. "You're all right. You're in good company. We understand."
Rosanne looked up-and Elena altered her position. She touched Rosanne and slid around on the sofa so that she was lying down with her head on some pillows at one end of the sofa. Rosanne lay down on top of Elena and stayed real close to her. They held each other in their arms and kept their faces snugly together.
Jon was amazed. It was a real romance. A real live affair. They whispered things to each other, and he wished he knew what they were saying. Tender thoughts, he was sure. He was so happy that Rosanne was finding some of the security she needed. He was happy that Elena could take his sister under her wings, so to speak. It was so refreshing to know that Roz still had a lot of love in her.
Rosanne's elbow moved around quite a bit, and the next thing he knew, Elena was gasping softly. Rosanne was touching Elena's secret places? He couldn't believe it! He was amazed and felt like taking his dick out to play with himself while watching the two on the sofa.
They kissed on the lips. The longer they kissed, the more lustful they acted. He couldn't believe his eyes! Maybe they didn't even need cock to make them happy. They seemed to be enjoying themselves pretty well without a boy. He was dying to know what was going to happen next. He had never seen anything like this before. No longer did Elena seem to be mothering Rosanne. She seemed to be actually making love! He was itching to hold his balls.
They separated from their kiss and mumbled things to each other. He couldn't make out exactly what they were saying, but he heard the gist of it. Elena was telling Rosanne that she shouldn't hate herself so much. Rosanne was telling Elena how much she admired her and how protected she felt in the older girl's arms.
Then Rosanne slid off the sofa entirely and sat on the floor nearby. And to Jon's amazement, the reality of their situation became clear. Rosanne's finger was up inside Elena's cunt, and Elena was going berserk with pleasure.
Rosanne rested her head on the edge of the sofa and continued working her finger around and around Elena's orifice. The logs in the fireplace crackled and sparked. The stereo automatically changed records and more classical music was heard.
Jon drank some more of his champagne punch and was really starting to lose his mind. He didn't object to what they were doing, but he didn't see any reason why he should be left completely out of it. He had just as much passion now as they did.
He stood up and took off his shirt. Then he removed his pants and undershorts. His cock was rigid as a baseball bat, and his nuts were tight against its base. But he didn't know what to do. He didn't know whether he should just lie down again and jerk himself off or whether he should go over there and join the two women. He just wasn't used to this kind of situation. In fact, he never thought a situation like this could ever do anything for him.
Elena opened her eyes and saw Jon standing there naked across the room. Her eyes opened wider and so did her mouth. "He's beautiful."
Rosanne turned around and smiled at her brother. Then she removed her finger from underneath Elena's dress and kissed the older girl on the lips. But Elena touched Rosanne's face with her hands and looked sideways at Jon instead of continuing her kissing with Rosanne.
Rosanne, meanwhile, placed her head against Elena's bosom and stayed there while Elena stroked her hair. Jon stepped closer.
Elena smiled. "Beautiful. You're the most beautiful boy I've ever seen."
"Thank you."
Elena looked down at Rosanne. "Honey, you should never be ashamed of anything for as long as you live. Jon's the most attractive young man you could ever hope to find. He's filled with love and he's the most sensational looking thing since California surfers."
Jon sat down near the sofa, brought his knees up near his chin, and wrapped his arms around his legs.
Elena smiled. "Rosanne?"
"Yes?"
"Don't ever be ashamed of anything in the world. Trust him. Be happy that you have him. Be proud of yourself that he loves you as much as he does. Be pleased with yourself for having him."
"He's my brother."
"We're all brothers ... brothers and sisters."
"No, I mean ... Jon, you tell her."
"She's my blood sister. We both have the same parents."
Elena looked surprised. "You mean ..
"Yes." Jon got up and walked over to her. He didn't want to get into it-his relationship with Rosanne. He wanted them all to enjoy themselves. This was not the time for problems.
He stood directly next to Elena and wished she would reach up and touch his cock. He was longing for some satisfaction. But Elena looked down at Rosanne again, who was starting to cry a little bit. She comforted Rosanne as much as she could, and Jon kneeled next to the sofa to caress his sister also.
Rosanne hugged Elena, and Jon hugged Rosanne.
Elena said, "It's all right. You'll be okay. Some things take a little time to learn."
Jon hated to see his sister suffer. He got her to sit up and kissed her. Rosanne lost herself for a moment and rubbed her hands all over his face and hair while they kissed. Finally, Jon nudged her slightly away so she could see him smile-so that she would know that he wasn't holding anything against her.
Rosanne managed to smile the best she could with all her embarrassment and then bowed her head upon Elena's lap. She stayed that way, clinging to the older girl for security and comfort.
Seeing that the situation was pretty well under control, Jon stood up and returned to standing next to Elena's face. He offered the woman his cock by cupping his hands underneath his balls.
Elena seemed to want it. Instead of making her sit up and lean forward, Jon placed one knee on the sofa and lowered himself so his cock was in easy reach for Elena-so she could do with it what she wanted. She opened her mouth, and Jon squatted even lower, and Elena took his prong between his lips.
Jon swung his other leg over her so he could kneel completely on the sofa with his organs right above Elena's face. She ate him that way and really started going to town with him.
Rosanne raised the older girl's dress and smothered her face against the cunt. She licked Elena's cunt with her tongue and climbed up on the sofa too-between Elena's legs. Jon could see what his sister was doing by looking back over his shoulder, and the feeling he got was that Rosanne needed to do something like that, something like eating Elena's cunt, but that she really wasn't ecstatically happy about it.
While Elena sucked his dick, Jon reached back and attracted Rosanne's attention. He took her hand and made her hold onto his big nuts. Instead of eating Elena's pussy, Rosanne caressed her face lovingly against Jon's ass and held his balls firmly.
Jon thought that was much better. He didn't want Roz to be going down on a chick unless she really and truly wanted to, and he didn't think that she did. Besides, he knew she loved his ass, and it seemed to him that she was happier kissing and caressing his buttock than she was with another woman's twat.
He felt wildly turned on by the fact that he was the only one of the three who was fully undressed. He loved being the center of attention too.
And then he experienced something, the likes of which he had never known before. Rosanne stuck her finger up his ass. He didn't like the feeling at all at first. Her finger felt miserable there. But he allowed himself the luxury of relaxing and soon realized his discomfort was mostly in his mind. Her finger up his ass didn't really feel that bad at all. In fact, he started to sense certain thrills that he had never known before. Wild thrills. Crazy weird feelings that he couldn't really pinpoint. All he knew was, his whole body was on fire with lust, with tingling sensations, with indescribable pleasure.
Elena was barely able to keep his cock in her mouth, it had swollen so big. She supervised it with her hands and sucked it the best she could. Every now and then, she had to take it out of her mouth so she could catch her breath and swallow, but during those times, she whipped the organ back and forth across the outside of her lips. And she rubbed it all over her face. Jon loved the way she smiled with her eyes closed when she did that. She even deliberately poked her eyes with the cockhead.
Jon wasn't even aware anymore that Rosanne still had her finger up his ass because the joy was spreading so evenly throughout his whole system. All he needed was some juicy cunt in front of his face to nibble on, and he would have it made. He laughed to himself because he already had it made. This was terrific.
He moaned a long steady hum. "Oh, man, this is great. You babes are driving me wild. Elena with your mouth on my dick. And Roz with her face against my ass ... and with her finger up there. I'm going to be coming in just a few minutes. This is too good to hold back. I'm going to come all over the place. Suck it, Elena. Suck it, baby. Eat the living daylights out of it."
Rosanne twisted her finger around and around his hole, and he waved his arms in the air. He had to hold onto his head because he thought he was about to blow his mind. The slurping and sloshing from all their sex was as loud as the music.
And then Rosanne released his rocks, and that's when he knew he wouldn't be able to suppress his orgasm any longer. "Roz? Elena? I think this is it. You babes are driving me crazy!"
Rosanne whined and grabbed his buttocks fiercely. "You're so great, Jon! You're so great! You're the greatest guy in the whole damn world! And she's great too! You're both so damn great! I love you both! I love you both!"
Elena had to pause for a moment. She gasped and groaned, and although she stopped eating his meat temporarily, she still held it on both hands.
But Jon couldn't control himself. He squatted there, looking down, with his hands on his hips. And although Elena wasn't touching his enormous cockhead at all, he still began to come. His jism shot all over Elena's face and fired off in all directions. Elena was amazed and let go of his cock. It swung up and down wildly, spewing more juice than Jon imagined he ever had. There didn't seem to be any end to it.
Elena grabbed his dong again and gulped it down her throat. That made Jon come more and more. Until he thought he was too weak to stand up. Until his loins ached from all the excitement.
Rosanne yanked her finger out of his ass, and that alone made Jon squirt a few more gobs into Elena's thirsty mouth.
They all took a break.
Jon went across the room to refill his glass with champagne punch while Rosanne dozed upon Elena at the sofa. Rosanne lay at Elena's feet and let her face rest between the older girl's legs.
Jon had never been through anything so fantastic in all his life. He collapsed on the chair on the other side of the white bearskin rug and sipped his drink with his legs stretched out in front of him. He didn't think he would ever be able to use his cock again. That business of Rosanne having her finger up his ass and doing magical things to him that he never dreamed possible really wrung the energy from him. His balls felt sore too. And he knew the only way he would ever be able to get rid of his fatigue was to get back there and start fucking some more.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Rosanne sat at the end of the sofa with her legs together, with her hands clasped on her lap, with her head bowed. She sat so close to the armrest at that end of the sofa that Jon assumed she was withdrawing again-for what reason, he couldn't imagine. Rosanne hardly moved at all.
Elena stood up and pulled her dress over her head. Jon was pleased with what was underneath. She wasn't a raving beauty, but a boy could do a lot worse for himself. And besides, he knew he liked her-very much-and that was what was important.
Elena was a little chubby here and there, but other than that there was nothing wrong with her body at all. In fact, Jon kind of liked her the way she was. He could see why Rosanne sought maternal protection and affection from Elena. She had that quality-like one of his younger teachers at school. Maturity. And Jon was beginning to think that he appreciated maturity in a woman more than anything.
It looked to him as though Elena was getting ready to lie down on the white bearskin rug, but he was wrong. She left the room, and Jon guessed why. He had come all over her inadvertently. He had splashed his come across her forehead and in her eyes and on her neck.
"What about me, Jon?"
"Huh?"
"Aren't you interested in making it with me?"
"Sure!"
"You don't act it."
"Roz...."
"I don't see you letting me suck you."
"Roz, there's no need to be paranoid."
"Well, it's true, isn't it?"
"Isn't what true?"
"That she did all the sucking."
"God."
"Don't curse, Jon. It happens to be true."
"So what! You don't like it? If you don't like it, then why don't you hitchhike a ride back to Daddy? Daddy will fuck you the way you want!"
Rosanne bolted from the sofa and started out the door. Jon was just quick enough to catch her. Rosanne slapped him hard across the face and then looked at him horror stricken. She was about to burst into tears when she fell against him and hugged him ferociously. "I'm sorry, Jon, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
"Easy, baby."
"I'm making such an ass of myself."
"No, you're not."
"I am! I am, I am, I am!"
He tried to comfort her, but he was running out of things to say to her. Nothing seemed to work. Every time he thought she was feeling good and was getting a hold on herself, she popped up with another one of her insane tantrums. He was losing patience with her. One of these days, he thought, he would give up trying.
Rosanne turned away from him and rubbed the tears from her eyes. "I don't know what is wrong with me, Jon. I don't know why I'm acting this way."
"You heard what Elena said. You have to stop hating yourself so much. And she's right. She doesn't even know you as well as I do, and she's been able to hit the nail on the head."
"Oh, don't give me that nail on the head bullshit. Nobody knows how I feel except myself."
"My fucking you, Roz, isn't going to make it any better."
"How do you know what'll make me feel better?"
"Because we've done that! We've fucked and fucked and you still feel the same way. You have to start cheering up a little bit. You have to stop feeling so damn sorry for yourself all the time. That's all you're doing, Roz. You're feeling sorry for yourself."
"Well, wouldn't you?"
"No."
Elena came back in. "What did I miss?"
Rosanne drank some of her punch. "Nothing."
Jon said, "Just another family discussion."
Elena stood in front of Jon and brushed his bushy hair out of his eyes. "Is it true what you two were saying before?"
"Yes."
"I've heard of that before, but I've never met a brother and sister who were actually involved that way until just now."
Jon backed away and sat down on the rug. Elena held his hand and sat down with him. Jon turned to Rosanne, who had returned to her seat on the sofa. "Don't you want to join us?"
"No."
"You sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. Why do I always have to repeat things for you, Jon? I'll just sit here and get drunk."
"Roz...."
"All right, all right. So I won't get drunk. But I'll just sit here anyway, if you don't mind."
Jon rolled over on top of Elena and started fucking her very slowly. Elena acted as though she were going to have an orgasm right away. All Jon had to do was shove his dick in real slowly but all the way, and Elena went crazy. Gasping. Kicking her legs up and down. She grabbed hold of the bearskin rug and pulled it toward her while Jon fucked.
Rosanne giggled. "You spilled his drink."
Elena kissed him hard. "You have what it takes. Fuck me, beautiful boy, fuck me."
"Feel good?"
"The best!"
"I love you, Elena. I really do."
"Give it to me harder, baby boy. Screw me till it hurts."
"I'm doing the best I can."
"It's not hard enough. Give it to me faster."
Rosanne said, "God."
Jon knew what Elena meant. He had come all over the place before, but she hadn't. He started fucking her harder and faster. His nuts were real loose this time, and he felt them slamming against her thighs. He hugged her tightly and felt as much of her soft body as he could reach.
She had such a graceful way about fucking. Her body seemed to be in constant writhing motion. He angled himself so his cock would get up to her clit. He wanted her to feel every possible spark of pleasure and excitement.
They kissed and pressed their faces together and rolled over and over on the rug. Elena screamed and shivered with joy. She bounced all over and almost pulled Jon's hair out with her hands. "Jon ... Jon! I'm ... OH! Ah! Oh, dear Lord! AHHH!"
He felt her come. She twitched all over. Her cunt was acting wildly. Tears poured down her face, and he hoped it was because she was happy, and not because he turned out to be too big for her.
Jon left Elena passed out on the rug and went over to the sofa. He sat down next to Rosanne and put his hand on her knee. "Are you all right?"
"Yes."
"You're not mad at me?"
You're entitled to do what you want. You like her, and that's the main thing. She's crazy about you, so what the hell."
"Want me to fuck you, Roz?"
"Well, what do you think I've been waiting for over here? The popcorn vender?"
He laughed and lay down on the sofa with his head on Rosanne's lap. He looked up at her face. "God, I wish you could learn to live with yourself. You'd be so much happier, Roz, you really would."
"I'm learning."
"You know what I was thinking, Roz?"
"She's not as pretty as me."
Jon quickly put his hand over her mouth. Although Elena might have been sleeping, he didn't want anything said against her. He had too much respect for her and too much fondness. He took his hand away from Rosanne's mouth.
"Well, she isn't."
"Roz!"
Rosanne caressed his hair. She combed it with her fingers. She studied his face and traced some of his features with her hand. When her finger passed over his lips, he kissed it.
"You can have any girl you want, can't you, Jon?"
"So? You could have just about any guy if you let yourself. You might even be able to find a guy you can really love ... if you let yourself."
"But it's you I want."
"Come on, Roz. I was just thinking a little while ago that ... well ... maybe it s not such a good idea for us to be sleeping together."
"What? You promised me we could always sleep together. That's what you said the other day.
"I know, but look what's happening. We aren't able to live with it."
"Because you don't want to live with it. '
"Neither of us wants to live with it because both of us know it isn't right."
Rosanne put her finger across his lips. "How can you say it isn't right? We need each other. I need you, Jon, and you said that you need me."
He couldn't argue with her. He was anxious to get back to Hartford because he was absolutely positive now that he and Roz would have to get down to the basics of her problem.
She sat on the sofa with her legs spread wide apart, and he fucked her like mad until he almost fainted. "Come on, Rosanne. Come."
"Oh, Jon, it feels so grand."
"But I can't keep fucking."
"I don't ever want you to stop."
"Feel that dick? Come, Roz, please."
When she finally did, Jon pulled out and collapsed on the white rug next to Elena. At sometime during the night, Elena put her arm around Jon, and they slept together embracing.
After breakfast Jon and Rosanne decided they would have to leave. Elena drove them to Belfast, and from there they got rides all the way home.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The doorbell rang.
Rosanne stopped what she was doing-which was reading a brochure about her school in Florida-and got up to answer the door. "Yes?"
"Parcel post, certified, Ma'am. Sign here, please?"
She opened the screen door and put her signature on the mailman's tablet and took her package. The mailman tried to be friendly with her, but she really wasn't in the mood for visiting. Under normal circumstances, she might have even invited him inside for iced tea and cookies, simply because the idea of turning someone on excited her tremendously. But she was too perturbed to indulge herself in silly games today.
She unwrapped the package. It was her new outfits from Hollywood Starlit, Inc., a fashion mail order house she had read about in one of her magazines. She took off what she was wearing, which was pretty darn sexy itself, she had to admit, and tried on her new pieces.
She used the huge mirror in her parent's bedroom to examine herself. She stood with her hands on hips and turned this way and that to see herself from as many angles as possible.
Not bad. Not bad at all. If this didn't turn on Jon, she couldn't imagine what would. What she modelled first was a two-piece bikini type thing the company called "The Eye-Buster." A ridiculous name for a not so ridiculous costume. The bra especially delighted her. It tied in front and was made from such small pieces of fabric that more of her enormous tits showed than ever showed before with anything else she had ever worn. The magazine advertisement guaranteed it would turn on any man under the sun, and she could see why. Not even Rosanne was used to wearing anything so revealing. But it was fun to wear, and that's what was important. The way her boobs pushed way out reassured her that this was an outfit Jon would never be able-to resist.
She tried on a few other items from the package and then started dinner. Her brother would be home soon.
Something had to give one of these days, she thought. They just couldn't go on living the way they were. It didn't make sense. Even though everything seemed to be under control now, the awful fact remained that Jon hadn't slept with her once-not once-since they had returned from Maine, and she calculated how long that had been. Five weeks.
Five weeks! What had he been doing for sex all this time? She knew what she had been doing. She had been doing without except for the use of her dildo now and then when things really got bad. But Jon-what was he doing? Seeing other girls? He had sworn he wasn't. Jerking off without her knowing about it? That didn't seem very likely because Jon said he always got bored with that. Then why isn't he screwing her?
Every night it was the same thing. Jon came home from work at the country club. He took a nap. He woke up and had dinner. He had a couple of drinks and watched television. And that was it! They hardly even talked anymore! Sometimes he went downstairs to their father's workshop and hammered away at some cabinet he was making. And sometimes he went out for a little while at night-either for a walk or for a drive with one of his friends. But he was never gone long enough to screw any broad, not unless she was waiting for him down the block, and he always swore none was.
Rosanne was confused. Hadn't he insisted that she calm down? That she stop hating herself so much? That she quit fighting all the time? Well, she had done all that! At least so far as she could. She knew she was changing. She knew she was happier now and with her fife in general. Then why wasn't her brother coming through? Why didn't she turn him on anymore?
She didn't know the answers to these questions but aimed to find out. If her new outfits from Hollywood Starlit failed to ignite some responses in him tonight, then she just didn't know what she would do.
After the roast was in the oven, she went to the living room to wait for Jon. He came home right on time, and for the first time in several weeks really seemed to take notice of her.
He closed the door. "Say! What's that?"
"You like?"
"Not bad."
"It's for you."
That didn't sit too well with him. He frowned and looked away and started out the room.
"Jon?"
"Yes?"
"Is that all you're going to say?"
"I don't know what else to say, Rosanne."
"Well, you can ask me where it came from and all that."
Instead of leaving, he sat in a chair, and that was a good sign to her. Only he wasn't staring at her the way she hoped he would. He started brooding again. She couldn't understand what had come over him lately.
She got up and walked in front of him. "It's from Hollywood."
"Hollywood?" He laughed a little bit.
"Yeah. Isn't it sexy?"
"I'll say."
"Well, to tell you the truth, Jon, I didn't fly all the way to California to pick it out myself. I found it in a magazine. I sent for it in the hopes you'd like it."
"It's nice. And I didn't think you had gone all the way to Hollywood."
She sat on the arm of his chair. "What's the matter, Jon? Why are you feeling this way? Your sense of humor isn't the way it used to be."
He turned his head away when she tried touching his forehead. "I don't know, Rosanne. I just feel tired or something."
"Work hard today?"
"Well, it isn't the work that's so hard. It's other things. Its' the boredom more than anything."
"Boredom? Well, you won't be bored once we move to Florida. School starts in another month or so, and there will be plenty for us to do down there."
"Umm. Sure smells good. What are we going to have for dinner?"
"Roast beef."
"Great." He got up and went down the hall to the linen shoot, took off his T-shirt, and threw it down the hatch to the clothes hamper in the basement. "We thought we had an accident today. Some old woman was out there in the water and started calling lifeguard. It was another one of those false alarms. I'm beginning to think that most of them who do that just want to be rescued. They really love that, I think, when they see me going crazy to reach them out there. I can tell by the way they act that nine out of ten aren't in any trouble at all."
Rosanne followed him to his room.
Jon turned around toward her at the door. "I think I'll take a nap."
"Jon?"
"Huh?"
"Do ... you want me to join you?"
"Naw, I think I'll try to get some sleep before dinner. There's a movie on television I want to see tonight. Call me when it's ready, okay?"
"Yes. I'll call you."
"Oh, Roz?"
"Yes?"
"That's really a wild outfit. It really is. Are you going to wear it somewhere tonight or something?"
She shook her head. "No."
She started to walk away and then thought twice. She knew he didn't want to be bothered, but she couldn't help herself. She felt just as bored as he, and she had to talk to him. She had to touch him. She missed his caresses and lovemaking to the point of actually feeling pain about it.
She knocked on his door. When he told her to come in, she did. Jon was already lying naked on his bed, but he had a magazine turned upside-down over his crotch. Modesty like that was something he never had before.
"What is it, Roz?"
"I don't know how to say it?"
"You don't know how to say what?"
"What's on my mind?"
"Come on, Roz, I can hardly stay awake."
"What are you reading?"
"Just get to it, will you?"
"One of your girly magazines?"
"What's the difference?"
"I'll tell you what's the difference, Jon. You seem to have plenty of time for that, but you don't seem to have any time nowadays for me. I've seen those magazines all over the house."
He sat up. "If you have something to say, Roz, I wish you'd say it and then leave me alone."
She sat down on his bed. "I don't know what's. going on, that's all."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Us. I'm talking about us."
"Nothing's going on about us."
"That's what I mean. That's exactly right. Nothing's happening between us anymore. You work all day, and I stay home and keep things in order, and that's the extent of it. We don't talk to each other anymore. We don't touch each other anymore. We don't even do anything."
"Well, what do you want me to do about it?"
'I'm not asking you to do anything! I just want to understand why you've turned so cold all of a sudden. It's like ... it's like you treat me like I'm contaminated or something. I don't like it, Jon. I feel real creepy about the way things are right now."
He lay down again and made sure his magazine stayed in place over his crotch. "Do you want to know something? I feel real creepy about the way things are, too. And you shouldn't be surprised about that. I told you how I felt a long time ago."
"I remember."
"Way back when we were in Maine together."
"I remember."
"So that's the way it is." He left his magazine where it was, and folded his arms under his head.
Rosanne could hardly resist him in that position. He looked so available. So willing and ready. All she would have to do was knock the magazine aside and start going at him. She yearned with every muscle in her body to be able to go down on him-just once more. She missed his beautiful lovemaking with a passion.
Her hands were cold, she knew, but she touched his leg anyway. "I think I know what did it."
"Did what?"
"Turned you off to me."
"What difference does it make what did it? It's the best thing for both of us. That's what you don't seem to understand. I'm not feeling this way to hurt you. I feel this way because I think it's the best thing for your well being and mine."
"Elena. She's the one who did it."
"Oh, will you stop it already? Christ Almighty, you sound like a jealous wife."
"I knew the moment we met her that she'd end up coming between us. I saw it the second we got in her car. You didn't see it then, but I knew exactly what was in store."
"Rosanne, if you don't have anything new to say, will you please let me get some rest?"
"You and her were carrying on like lovers at first sight, and I knew all along what would happen. I saw the way she was looking at you. And I saw the way you were taken in by her ... charm."
"You should have learned a thing or two from her too."
"I did! That's just the thing! I did! And from you, too, that night. And I have changed, Jon, I know I have. That's what you and she told me I had to do, and that s what I've done. But look at us now. I got rid of a lot of those feelings I had, and now you don't even want to touch me. If it's not one thing, it's another."
"Roz, do you know what I think you ought to do? You and me both?"
"Don't say it, Jon."
"I have to."
"No!"
"We ought to both go out somewhere."
"Yes! We should! Together!"
"Alone."
No! Together! We can pose as friends again. Or maybe even as husband and wife."
That s not the point. That's exactly what I'm trying to get away from. No, Roz. Separate. You ought to go out and be with some boys, and I ought to go out and be with some chicks. We should try to pick up some of the pieces we left behind when we went up to Maine."
Rosanne wanted to cry so much. It would have been so easy for her to let it all out, once and for all, but she held back her tears because she didn't want to believe what he was saying. She had been so frightened that his might be his attitude! Leaving him was what scared her more than anything else in the world right now.
He sat up-and to avoid his eyes, she pushed aside his magazine and bowed to feel his cock and balls against the side of her face. They felt so good next to her there. They were so much him.
She was dying to take his soft prick in her mouth, dying to suck him off the way she had done so often so long ago. But she knew he didn't want that. She knew they might have already passed the end of their affair without her even having been aware of it.
Jon raised her up and made her look him in the face. It was hard. He looked so beautiful and so worried. And she really wanted to do was kiss him crazily. But she listened. She didn't think she would like what he had to say, but she respected him.
"Rosanne, it's time we grew up. It's time we quit making excuses for ourselves. Face it, baby. We can't go on forever the way we were."
"Who's asking anything forever? Just a while longer, Jon, just a little while." But she knew he wouldn't buy that. She fell against him and hugged him for dear life. Only when she was in his arms did she feel safe and secure and protected.
"It'll be all right, baby." He stroked her hair. "I'm not the only guy in the world. You can do damn good for yourself if you face facts."
"I know."
"So why don't you do it?"
"Because ... I don't know. You said that I had to get rid of all my bad feelings about what Daddy did to me. And so I did. And you said I had to quit hating myself, and I don't anymore."
"Roz, let's not discuss it right now, okay?"
"I don't want to discuss it. I want to stay close to you. That's all I want. I need you, Jon. Please, honey, hold me tight. I'm begging you."
He did. He held her so tightly that she thought her shoulders would break. She needed his dick inside her in the worst way imaginable. She just couldn't understand why they couldn't go on living the way they had. What was so terrible about it! She had gotten rid of all her guilts. She was liking herself more and more, and she only had a tiny bit of that hatefulness she once had.
She asked him if it would be all right if she lay down with him, and Jon said it would be okay if she promised not to do anything they would both regret Rosanne nestled up against him and let her hand rest nonchalantly upon his groin.
It wasn't long before his cock started to swell. They both lay motionless, but Rosanne felt her juices boiling from the touch of his dick against her wrist. It flinched and pulsed and rubbed her arm as it got bigger and bigger.
"Don't," he said.
"I haven't done anything."
"Don't."
"Not just a little bit? I mean, not just a taste?"
"No."
"Okay, Jon. I'm not going to force anything anymore. If you don't want it, then that's the way it's going to be. I've been selfish enough. It's time I started considering how you felt. Oh, I want to suck your cock, but I'm not going to talk you into it. There's nothing in the world I love better than sucking your cock and having you make love to me. But love is mutual, and if you don't want that, then I have to respect you for your wishes."
He sounded as though he were falling asleep. "That's the first time I've heard you say anything like that."
"Like what?"
"That you'll respect my wishes."
"Well, I have to. I love you, Jon. If there's anything I want to do that's going to hurt you, then I'm just going to have to forget about it."
"That makes me happy, Roz ... that you're becoming more considerate. I like that a lot."
"You taught me that, Jon. You and Elena ... because she was considerate too. Both of you are. I learned a lot from you two."
Jon squeezed her more tightly and did something that blew Rosanne's mind. He helped her fit her hand around his hardon and coaxed her into squeezing it for him. The more she held it, the hotter she got, and soon she started masturbating him.
"Just touch it, Roz. Don't do anything-like that."
"Doesn't it feel good when I do that?"
"Yes, but...."
"It feels good to me, too, because it's so alive and strong. It feels so beautiful. I'm going to take a bite of it now, Jon. I won't eat all of it, but I'm going to have a little taste of it ... for old time's sake."
She moved down his body and sucked his prick into her mouth, ignoring his slight protest, resisting his gentle attempts to push her away. When he gasped with unmistakable joy, she knew she could eat his cock all she wanted.
She massaged his chest and arms while she sucked to keep him calm. To keep him where he was. To keep him from getting upset and making her stop. She didn't want to stop for anything. She hadn't had dick in weeks. Over a month. She was so happy to be sucking cock again. She felt her whole body burning and her cunt quivering and dripping. It was such a beautiful big cock, and she wanted it inside her.
Rosanne was so scared he might change his mind. She licked his dick and balls while hastily unfastening her Hollywood Starlit outfit. It was hard. It took a lot of scrambling around, but she was happy that Jon didn't object. She knew she would have to sit on him to get his big dick this time. No way could she expect him to be the aggressor. Those days were over. She had to take the initiative now if she wanted that sweet prick at all. And she did! She wanted that gorgeous hunk of solid flesh so much that she felt herself close to orgasm without even having her cunt pierced.
She sat on him and worked the organ into herself by holding it with her hands. Jon's bed wasn't really made for the both of them, and they sank real low once she was on top of him. She had to stretch out her legs real far to get all his meat that way.
"Do you like that, Jon?"
He didn't answer. She didn't blame him. He really wasn't doing this on his own free will. But he wasn't attempting to stop her either, and that was better than nothing. Oh, God! it felt good to her. Why didn't he open his eyes and look at her? Why didn't he feel her boobs the way he used to do? She held them herself and felt terrible that Jon wasn't getting the full benefit of her freedom.
Suddenly, he started choking and grabbing the mattress. His face changed moods into all sorts of contortions. He gasped and turned red and came into her like a man gone crazy. She laughed and bounced up and down steadily. She rubbed her ass all over his thighs and got that cock to excite her in all the right places.
She felt wonderful! She threw her arms up in the air and fucked him like mad. She rocked back and forth and then started shivering all over. She came gloriously.
After it was over, she pulled away and lay on top of him. Jon asked to be excused, and when Rosanne rolled aside, he made a karate gesture with his hand and smashed it against the bookshelf behind his bed, breaking it in two.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Rosanne didn't know what the shit to think! One minute she turned him on. The next minute she turned him off. She was beginning to feel that Jon had the problem, not her. To hell with it, she finally decided. She was sick and tired of playing these games. She refused to go on the way things were, not knowing from one minute to the next whether she was loved or hated.
She got dressed as fast as she could and took a taxi to the nearest single's bar. It was a weeknight, and it wasn't very crowded, but she didn't care what the selection was like. She was going to go home with some guy, and she didn't care who or what he was like. She didn't even want to know his name. Losing herself in an orgy of passion was all she wanted.
While she was dancing, she was struck by the idea of how much she missed Jon and how much she would rather be dancing with him. But Jon was out of the question. He was tearing her apart inside, that's what he was doing. He was making life miserable for her, and she hated him for it. He was always turning something that was supposed to be so beautiful into something that seemed so ugly. She wished she never had to see him again as long as she lived.
The later she stayed, the more crowded the place became and the drunker she got. She didn't care. She didn't give a damn what happened now. She had tried everything in the book, and all she had gotten in return was more insult and injury. She hoped the roast beef burned up in the oven.
One single's bar was not enough. She went to three of them and finally found someone she thought could really give her the fucking of her life. That's all she wanted to do. She wanted to fuck until she was dead. She wanted to fuck until she forgot who she was and everything about herself. That was the only way.
The guy she chose had a mustache and a receding hairline and looked like the kind of sonofabitch who didn't want anything else from a girl but pussy-and that was all she wanted to give. Lots of it. All the pussy his big cock could stand.
He wore jeans and a striped sleeveless shirt that revealed his huge biceps. He was five inches taller than Jon and didn't have any of her brother's characteristics. He was heavier than any other guy with whom she had made it and a lot hairier. But when he whispered to her when they were dancing that he had a whang that would drive her out of her mind, she stood back and said, "Let's go."
He lived in a hotel, a run-down hotel on the other side of town, and his room was dark and messy enough that Rosanne wasted no time in taking off all her clothes and jumping into bed. She wanted him to fuck her the way he kept his quarters-recklessly and thoughtlessly.
As she lay in bed, she could tell right away that her pardner was ecstatic with what he brought home. Rosanne wasn't surprised. She knew she had the best body most men had ever seen. Especially this man. She couldn't imagine him ever ending up with the likes of her. He was too-she couldn't pinpoint the quality he had, the lethargic mood he had that was somewhat frightening. He was a fucker. She could see that when he took his pants off, and that was probably all he was good for.
He stood at the end of the bed and grabbed her ankle. He pulled her toward himself so that her head left the pillow. "You like whips?"
"What?"
"A little bit of extra fun?"
"No."
"Oh." He got something from his old chest of drawers. "How about these?" He held up a pair of handcuffs.
"What? Are you kidding?"
"I ain't kidding, sister. You seem like the type."
"No thanks."
"I got some stuff you can snort if it'll make it any easier for you. Good stuff. Picked it up last night in Fun City."
"No thanks. I've had enough to drink."
He laughed and he laughed loudly. She didn't see what was so damn funny, and she didn't know what was wrong with this ape that he didn't want to jump in the sack and start balling. Most men would have been creaming all over the place by now. What did she get stuck with, a weirdo?
She was beginning to feel a little self-conscious and covered herself with the sheet, which she first now realized was pretty dirty. "Look, do you think we can forget about some of your other ideas and get down to fucking? I mean, I'm a little drunk, do you know what I mean? And I liked you because you told me you have a cock that'll drive me crazy. And you do. I can see that. So what do you say, we cut out the crap and get down to business, huh?"
"So you came home with me because you thought I had a prong to take your breath away, is that it?" He walked back and forth at the foot of the bed. "Well, what do you know. I have a real cock-hungry little lass on my hands. Now that's great. That's real great. I mean, I'm happy you love cock because I'm going to give you so much cock, you'll wish you were never born with a pussy. That ever happen to you? I mean, you ever been fucked so much at one time that you wished you were a virgin again?"
He was crazy. She couldn't stand the way he kept rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand. It made his lips so much redder than normal. And she wished to God he'd stop pacing around like an animal in a zoo.
Then he snapped his fingers and pointed at her. "Hey. I asked you a question. Don't ignore me when I ask you a question. I don't like to be ignored, see.
Now how about it. You been fucked so much you wished you were a virgin again?"
"No."
"Well, you're gonna be."
"Good. What are we going to do, talk about it all night?"
"Ahhh, we have a fancy broad up here tonight, huh? A real clever little mouse? Don't start talking back to me, sister, or I'll start losing my patience."
Rosanne sat up-in fact, she got up-and reached down to the floor for her clothes. The man was there before she was and stepped on her dress to keep her from picking it up. This was her chance, she thought, and stretched her neck out real far to get her mouth on his prick. She held his legs to persuade him to stand where he was, and he did-for a moment.
But no sooner did she start sucking his gigantic rod did he pushed her backward, making her lie on the bed. She had never been treated this way, and she didn't like it.
He kneeled on the bed and squatted on her stomach. He laid his cock between her tits, squeezed her boobs, and rubbed his cock vigorously with them. Rosanne couldn't believe this. He must have been a mental case or something. If he kept doing that, he was going to shoot right in her face, and she didn't know if she would like that.
She tried to smile, and when she spoke, her voice quavered because of the almost violent manner in which he was massaging his cock with her tits. "Say, do you think we could do something else? I'm getting a little bored with you, if you want to know the truth.
I came here wanting to get laid, and all I've gotten was a bunch of shit. How about it, huh? I'm kind of fed up with your idea of having a good time. Will you stop it already? Look, buster! I've about had it with you!" She punched him in the chest as hard as she could and then pushed him backward with all her might.
The big man went flying on the floor, and Rosanne couldn't see him, but she heard him land with a tremendous crash and saw his feet sticking up in the air for a few seconds. Then there was silence.
She wished she were not as bombed as she was. She might have been better able to cope with this freak, and she might have been able to play along a little more with his antics. But she was in no mood for dealing with morons tonight. All she wanted to do was fuck a lot-and forget. This was getting her nowhere. She might as well have been at home, sweating out her own problems, than to have come here and found nothing but trouble.
The big man got up off the floor, and Rosanne could see that he had lost a little bit of his hardon. He covered his mouth and laughed. "You like to play rough, don't you?" he said. "That's good. That's the way I thought you'd like it. That's why I brought you here. And don't bother yelling because everybody in this hotel's used to that."
"I never even knew there were people like you who lived in Hartford."
"Oh, I don't live here. Just passing through. I pass through every place. I been here five months."
"Looks to me like you were here before the wheel was invented."
"That's what I said ... you're a smart-ass little lassie, and I like that. I like that, but I hate it too." He walked across the room, stumbling once or twice, and knocked hard against the wall. "Mike? You in there? Mike!"
Someone from the next room responded. Rosanne reached down for her clothes again. She found her Hollywood Starlit panties and put them on.
"Come on over here! I've got something for you!" Rosanne hoped it wouldn't be too late to find a cab outside and intended to go straight home and never visit a single's bar again. This was absurd. She had the body and face that could have been photographed for magazines, and she wasn't about to let herself stay in this mud hole one more minute.
The man said, "Where do you think you're going?"
"I'm going home, you ass. Where do you think I'm going. It was a mistake for me to have come out tonight. A big mistake."
"You aren't going anywhere."
"I have problems enough as it is. Do you know what kind of problems I have? I'll tell you what kind of problems I have. I've been fucked by my father, screwed by my brother, and have been at a total loss these past few months about everything. As a matter-of-fact, and I don't think this would interest you, I've been pretty much of a loss all my life. That's right.
But I'm not a hopeless case, and I'm not going to let you or anybody else fuck me up more than I already am. So ... you can leave your cute little handcuffs and ropes and whatever other shit you keep around this dump ... and you can take that prick of yours and tie it into a knot so far as I'm concerned ... and you can get on the phone, if there is one in this hell hole, and call me a taxi."
The man, who had been intensely concentrating on what she was saying with his hand over his mouth and with his head nodding every now and then, suddenly burst into loud laughter again. His was the kind of laugh that was really starting to grate on her nerves.
Because of her drunkenness, tying her bra in front was difficult. The door opened and another loser came in, only he was different. He was skinnier, bonier, and had greasy hair and tattoos on his arms.
The newcomer grinned when he saw Rosanne, and Rosanne almost got sick when she saw his yellow broken teeth.
"Well, now! I was going to tell you that I had a chick next door, but this is something else! Holy shit! Where'd you pick up a piece of ass like this?"
"The club."
"We gonna fuck her or throw her around a little bit? What she dig?"
"Oh, she digs a lot, don't you, honey? Why, she was just telling me ... just as you was coming in ... that she was fucked ... get this ... not only by her papa ... but by her very own brother as well. Now I think a girl like that ought to be punished a little bit, don't you, Mike?"
"I should say so."
Rosanne kept getting dressed.
"Mike, you aren't going to like this, but you know what she said?"
"No, what?"
"She said ... now don't take this too much to heart, Mike ... she said she didn't know there was the kind like us in Hartford." They both cackled. "And you know what else she said?"
"No!"
"She said for me to call her a taxi."
The two men laughed and clapped their hands, hooked arms and danced around and around. Rosanne though she better get out of there as soon as she could. The man whose room it was got a belt, and the newcomer took off his trousers.
The man whose room it was said, "Sis, why don't you get over there on the bed, the way you was before. And be a good girl. We really don't want to hurt you. You need some punishing, but we'll forego that ... being as you're as pretty as you are ... in exchange for a little fucking. How would that be? Would that be fair, Mike?"
"Sure would!" He jumped on the bed and bounced up and down. "Come over here, sis, the way my friend says. See, I'll lie here, and you lie on top of me facing up ... and then I can hold you while he fucks your cunt."
The other man winked. "He's not really just going to hold you. See, Mike's planning to fuck your ass. He likes that sort of thing. He loves girls' ass more than he loves pussy. Now I'm a pussy man. I wouldn't trade a nice young cunt like yours for all the ass in China."
The man on the bed laughed. "They got some pretty good ass in China."
Rosanne saw her weapon. When the man whose room it was started coming toward her, she put up her hand and said, "Okay. Okay. Two against one. You win. I'm too drunk to fight."
"Aw, you hear that, Mike? She's too drunk to fight. You should of seen her at the bar, drinking and drinking and drinking. But we want you to fight. You keep missing the whole point. We want...."
Rosanne had grabbed the only lamp lighting the room. She yanked it out of the wall and threw it toward her adversary in the total darkness. The men started shouting and scrambling about, and Rosanne dashed toward the general vicinity of the door. She blindly groped at the wall, felt the door, fumbled until she found the knob, threw open the door, and ran into the hall as fast as she could.
She ran and didn't look back to see if she was followed. She jumped as many steps as she could, running down one flight of stairs and then another. She grabbed the banister so she could pivot around corners even faster. All she had on was her panties and bra, but she didn't give a shit.
Suddenly, she heard an awful noise upstairs. She turned around, looked up-just in time to see the man whose room it was go tumbling down the stairs, head over heels, in the most grotesque contortion of the human body she had ever seen.
She waited. The man managed to rise on his knees, screaming and bloody, but he was alive. She ran outside and down the block as fast as possible. She hid in a doorway, sobbing profusely, and tried to figure out what she had to do next. All she wished was that Jon were there.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Jon was asleep when he received the phone call. He couldn't believe that Rosanne was in any serious trouble at first and told her that she was old enough to start taking care of herself-and that she better start right now. But his sister insisted that she was in great danger and begged him to help her. When she explained some of the situation the best she could, Jon took a cab and met her where she said she would be.
She cried all the way home in the back seat with him, and all he did was hold his arm around her, keeping her near him, but so far as saying anything-he didn't.
The next morning after he shaved what little bit of blond fuzz he had, he quietly entered Rosanne's room and sat on the edge of her bed. "Roz?"
In a few moments she slowly opened her eyes and blinked. Then she sat up and embraced him. He thought at first she was starting to cry, but then he realized she was just nervous and might have been a little overly excited at seeing him.
"Roz, will you be all right today?"
She nodded.
"You sure? I can phone in sick if you want me to stay with you."
She shook her head.
"All right." He made her lie down again and then held her hand, patted it, kissed it. "Try and get lots of rest today, Roz. You've been through an awful lot lately, and I think you ought to kind of take it easy."
"Okay." She smiled and nodded.
"Call me at the country club if ... you need me for anything. You have the number, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Good." He was about to get up.
"Jon?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you for helping me last night."
He adjusted the blanket around her. "Is there anything I can get you?"
She shook her head.
"I'll try and come home a little earlier tonight. I won't stop anywhere on my way back from work. So you get as much rest today as you can, and I'll see you this afternoon."
"Jon?"
"Yes?"
"Where have you been stopping after work?"
"Oh, it's nothing."
"Okay."
"I mean, it's nothing we ought to discuss really. It's over and done now. It's something I did ... well ... because I thought I needed the money. I was seeing some of the women from the country club after work. Not on what you would call a friendly basis. More on what you would call ... a business basis."
"Jon?"
She looked horrified, and he couldn't really blame her. "Yes, Roz. I told myself, if we moved to Florida, I'd need all the money I could get."
"Oh, no."
"And it wasn't hard. I never had to think about what I was doing."
"That's why you haven't been interested in me."
"That's one of the reasons. And I am interested in you, Roz. That's why I wanted to get as much money together as possible ... so we can set ourselves up in Florida real well. Don't say it was because I wasn't thinking about you. I did it for us."
"Oh, Jon, you couldn't have."
"But it's over now. I'm not going back to that. I've been able to save up a few hundred dollars, and that'll be enough for us to get started. I don't want to have to ask Dad for anything. I was thinking ... maybe we can leave before they get back from Maine."
"How could you have done that? I just can't imagine it."
"Rosanne...."
"I'm sorry. I guess I'm the last person who should question what anybody else does. When I think about last night ... oh, God. But I learned my lesson, Jon. I really think I did."
"Good."
"How could I have been so selfish?"
"Don't worry about it now."
"And screwed up?"
"Just rest."
"When I think about how much I hated myself and everybody else, it makes me sick. I don't know how I was ever able to live with myself. I really don't."
"Well, if it's any consolation to you, you weren't living with yourself too well, Roz. I wondered about the same thing ... lots of times ... and that's why I tried to help whatever way I could."
"I mean that business with Daddy? I was taking that out on everybody. And it wasn't really his fault. That's the terrible thing about it. When we were down there by the electric scoreboard, I did as much as he to get some sex going. If not more."
Jon stood up. "I'll miss my ride if I don't get outside."
Rosanne reached for his hand. "And I did the same thing with you. I got you into trouble because I was in trouble."
"Yep. And then last night you decided to go out and punish yourself for everything."
"Oh, I'm so dumb."
"Don't worry about it. We're all dumb at one time or another."
He knew he should leave. He knew Rosanne would be all right now. He didn't have to worry about her anymore. She was going to be a decent person from now on, and he was happy for her. But he was lonely. He knew that the nature of their relationship was different now, very different, and he didn't know what to do about it.
He still adored her, and she still turned him on-not as a sister now, not entirely, but as a real live human being with a mind of her own and a new sensitivity for others. Rosanne seemed more attractive now than ever, and it confused him.
She smiled and lowered her blanket. He crawled into bed with her, and they held each other tightly. He felt like crying. He hadn't felt like doing that in a long time. Rosanne and he were drifting apart, and he knew things had to be that way. It was only right. Hadn't they gone as far together as they could?
And yet, the idea of separating from her seemed frightening. He had gotten used to her. They had shared too much and had been through too much together to separate without regrets. They had grown to know each other, to help one another, and to give each other the love that neither had theretofore known. He felt that she was his but that he couldn't have her forever.
His cock seemed to find its own way into her, and when the doorbell rang-his ride to work-they ignored it and stayed cuddled together. It was the first time Jon felt like having his dick in her without fucking crazily.
Rosanne's body had a whole new feeling about it. Gone was her nervousness and insatiable sexual hunger. She wasn't uptight anymore and didn't crave him selfishly, the way she had so often done. He sensed from Rosanne a feeling of giving. He body seemed to say she was his-have me-love me.
The doorbell rang again.
Jon pulled his cock out a little ways and pressed it inside again. They squeezed each other more securely. He rocked her gently and felt her hot face next to his-her warm breasts against his chest. And the rapid pulse of their heartbeats felt like a rhythmic musical instrument.
The truth that he and Rosanne were different now, that the whole structure of their relationship would have to change now, that he might lose her-stung his mind and forced him to start making love to keep her from vanishing forever out of his life.
Each glorious stroke of his cock brought new and stronger pleasure, greater and greater fulfillment. Soon he had to ease her over on her back to plunge into her the way they normally did. Rosanne spread her legs and gave herself more urgently than ever before. Jon shoved himself into her and felt as though his cock was flying around inside of her like an arrow that had been shot against the bull's eye and was vibrating-twanging-springing up and down wildly.
He fucked her with all the love and strength he could muster. And she did things for him now that she had never done at any other time. She opened herself up beautifully to him. She used muscles in her cunt that made his pleasure soar higher than pleasure from any other fucking.
Every plunge of his cock gave him an eternity of ecstasy. Each plunge had a whole life cycle of its own, and it wasn't until Rosanne whispered that she thought she was coming that he started screwing harder and faster. But that's the way she wanted it. She came in seconds.
Jon waited till her spasms subsided. Her cunt was wet with juices and her whole body was damp with lust. All he had to do was work his cock inside her just a little tiny bit-and he came. He thought his whole body was exploding. Fragmenting into a million particles. The supreme joy almost made him cry.
Marcus and Johanna Williams arrived in Hartford on the fifteenth of August. Jon had been hoping that he and Rosanne would be able to get out of the house by the time their parents returned, but he wasn't too disappointed that his plans didn't turn out quite that way. For he noticed in Rosanne's reactions to her father the greatest improvement in her overall outlook that he had yet seen.
She was kind to her father. Compassionate. Gone was all her feeling of guilt and remorse and hatred. She regarded the old man with understanding and left Jon with the impression she was leaving the old man alone to cope with himself just as she had come to cope with herself.
"He's making a play for me again," Rosanne told Jon one night when they were alone at the drive-in. "And I don't like it."
"Let's leave tomorrow."
The film they were watching was about the 1950's, and they laughed when they realized they were sitting in a drive-in just like the people on the screen. They played a little game with that and enjoyed sex in the back seat of a 1968 Plymouth Jon had picked up with some of the money he earned at the country club.
That night they packed all their belongings, said good-by to their parents, and departed at two o'clock in the morning for Florida.
Rosanne was surprised with how much she enjoyed her school work. She came home from classes every afternoon, cleaned their apartment, and told Jon all about her studies as soon as he got home from work.
Jon knew that Rosanne was sleeping with other boys, and he made no attempt to hide the fact from her that he was fucking other girls. Both of them were thrilled at how attractive so many of the young people were in Florida, and they started wondering if the shouldn't move to somewhere like California for the summer.
They still slept together but only made love once in a great while. Neither of them was jealous of what the other was doing outside. And neither pried into the facts about those other affairs. Jon, so far as he was concerned, was happy with their new arrangement. The observation that made him happier than anything, however, was the brand new optimism and joy he saw in Rosanne.
She bubbled. She always had places to go now. She was fascinated with her school work. She was going to parties and meeting new friends and was even taking up sail boating with one of her male companions. The change in her was remarkable. He was thankful that she had been saved.
Now that Rosanne was on her feet and exploring the adventures of life for the very first time, Jon began to ask himself what he should do with his life. He had come down there to Florida to be with his sister, to take care of her, to make sure she didn't get off on the wrong track again-but now she was settled. She enjoyed herself. She knew who she was and radiated her love.
She didn't really need him anymore, he thought. She would be able to get along just fine without him. But he didn't know what he should do. He really didn't have anywhere to go. He kept thinking about Elena. Dear old Elena. God, he had loved her. She had opened his mind to so many things and had been so good for he and Roz that night. He contemplated going back to Maine to see her-to see whether or not they might be able to make a go of things.
No, he told himself. That was over. That was over the day he and Rosanne left Elena. It had been a year. And yet he wanted a girl like her. He was mature now, too, and longed for what could be a lasting relationship.
One morning at breakfast, Jon picked up a piece of toast and interrupted Rosanne from reading the morning paper. "Roz?"
"Huh?"
"I've been thinking."
"Yeah?" She turned to another page.
"How long have we been in Miami together?"
"Oh, I don't know. I think it's been about seven or eight months. Something like that. What time is it, Jon? I have to get over to the library by nine."
"It's about eight-thirty."
"Really? God, I better rush." She folded up the paper and scooted her chair back. She took her dishes to the sink. "What were you going to say, honey?"
"Well, I was just wondering what I should do."
"About what?"
"Oh, I don't know ... things in general."
"That's a pretty wide subject. How do I look?"
"Great."
She unbuttoned a couple of loops on her blouse. "Have to give them a little bit of tit to look at, but not too much. What do you want for dinner tonight, Jon?"
"For dinner? Fish."
"Okay. Why don't we meet after my sociology class and have a drink at Rupert's? We can talk there."
"All right."
Rosanne took some fish out of the freezer, grabbed her books from the kitchen counter, and kissed Jon good-by.
His mind was made up by the time they met at the little outdoor restaurant during lunch. He told her that he was leaving Miami.
"Leaving!" She could hardly believe it and almost spilled her drink.
"Don't you think it's time?"
"I don't know whether it's time or not, honey, but the idea makes me want to cry."
"Well, it's a couple of things that make me feel I would be doing the right thing."
"Jon ... if you think it's the right thing, then that's all that matters, baby. I don't even want to stop and think about it now, it sounds so sad. I mean, I don't know what I'm going to do without you."
"You'll do fine."
"I don't know. I mean, it just doesn't seem possible. Not after all these years."
"It's something we'll both have to adjust to."
"Yes."
"And it's a combination of things, like I say, Rosanne. It isn't just one thing in particular. It's a little bit of this and a little bit of that. Do you know what I mean?"
"I think so."
"I mean, I think it's time."
"To go your own way?"
"Yes."
She stopped eating and put her elbows on the table. She covered her mouth with the napkin and shook her head slowly. "I just can't believe it, that's all. It just doesn't seem possible. But if it's best for you, then that's what you should do. But it just doesn't seem possible."
'For me either. But I have to do something with my life, Roz. I don't think I can go on working at these silly little jobs all the time, you know."
"Well, why can't you do whatever it is you want to do here in Miami ... so we can at least ... be together?"
He didn't think he had to answer that for her. He was sure she knew the answer to that. How could she not help but realize he wanted to be on his own and end the type of affair they were still sustaining? So long as they saw each other, it would be impossible not to respond the way they always had.
He entered her again that night and said, "This is what I mean. This is why I must go."
"Oh, baby! Don't say that!"
He fucked her frantically. He spread her legs with his knees and crammed his cock up her cunt with all his might. She locked her ankles behind his back and hugged his neck fiercely.
Jon broke away and made her get off the bed. He sat on the edge of the bed and had her sit on him. He fucked her that way and loved it because he could feel his face against her fabulous boobs-boobs he might no longer touch pretty soon.
And then they stood up and fucked. Both of them acted as though this might be the last time. Jon took her into the kitchen and screwed her on the chair. Then he got on the floor, made her sit on him with her back to his face, grabbed her ass and fucked her a long time.
They came, took showers, and screwed in bed again.
"Don't cry, Rosanne," he said, plowing into her.
"I can't help it!"
"Please don't."
"Oh, fuck me, Jon, and don't ever stop."
He couldn't help himself from being tom apart inside by her constant weeping, and he had to screw her harder and faster to keep himself from feeling sad. But at last it was over. They had both come a half dozen times, and they were tired.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Jon came home one day to the surprise of his life. Marcus Williams, his father, was sitting at the kitchen table with Rosanne.
Rosanne had been crying a lot. It was obvious. And Marcus was calm and collected as usual. Jon almost spit when he saw the old man. He had been hoping again that he would never have to see him anymore.
He put down a little gift he brought home for Roz and went over to her. He touched her shoulder, and she leaned her face against his hand.
"Roz, what's all this about?"
Marcus drew in a deep breath and spoke. "Pack your bags, son. You're coming with me."
"Roz, what's he doing here?"
She shook her head and cried. "I don't know. I didn't ask him to come. Make him go away, Jon. Make him go away."
"Let's go, son. Pack you things."
"I'm not doing anything until you tell me what this is all about."
Marcus laughed. "Come now. You don't think I've been neglecting you kids since you moved down here. Come on now. What do you take me for, some kind of idiot?"
Jon couldn't even stand the idea that his father was in their apartment. His presence alone was enough to make him want to lose his patience. "Get out of here."
"I'm not going anywhere. And don't you use that tone of voice with me, boy!"
"I'm not going anywhere with you, and I'm not packing my bags, and I'm not going to have you lousing up our private home."
"Your private home. Get your things. I'll show you a private home. Your mother and I have one all picked out for you in upstate New York. A real nice place for deviate, degenerate delinquents like yourself. Now hurry up and get your stuff, or do I have to bring my men up here?"
"Your men! Why you...."
"Jon! Don't!" Rosanne caught his arm to keep him from attacking the man.
"Go on. Fight. Hit me like you did last year up in Maine. Take a swing at me. Lay one finger on me, you little sonofabitch, and I'll have you locked away for life!" He got up and put on his hat.
Rosanne burst into tears again, and Jon tried to console her as much as possible.
"And get your hands off my daughter!"
Jon stared at him although the sight of the man in front of him made him sick. "You're not going to get away with this. Rosanne and I have everything worked out between ourselves. And if you think you're going to punish me for anything, I'll fight you all the way to hell and back. I know everything about you. I know what you did to her, and I know the kind of man you are."
Marcus adjusted the brim of his hat and went to the door. "Don't say I didn't warn you, son. There's going to be an ugly scene here if you don't cooperate."
"She told me all about it. All about the time you made her give in to you down at the electric scoreboard behind that school. And I saw you with my own eyes in the woods at the summerhouse!"
"Lies. That's all you have in your favor. Lies. And I'm not going to let your sick mind mess up my daughter's future. You can bet your rotten balls on that."
Rosanne got up from her chair, wiped her eyes, and hugged her brother. "I told him, Jon. I told him everything."
"Why?'
"Because he pretended he wanted to understand."
"Understand? Understand what?'
"Us. The problems we've been having. The things we've learned the hard way."
"But Roz! That's none of his business!"
Marcus jiggled the change in his pockets, 'fit wouldn't have done any good for her to keep quiet. I knew all about you two anyway. I've had investigators looking into your lives for the past four months.
And we've got enough evidence to have you confined to that home for fifteen years."
Jon made fists with his hands. "And what about you, you lying rapist! How many years are they going to put you away? Ten? Twenty?"
"Tell him, Roz. TELL HIM!"
Rosanne cried some more and then said, "Don't you remember, Jon? A long time ago? We were talking about this, and I told you ... I told you...."
"Tell him!"
"I told you ... I was as much at fault as he?"
Jon thought for a moment. He remembered. He remembered Rosanne saying something about teasing their father. The fact that the seduction wasn't all his fault. That she played along and then wanted him to fuck her.
It all came back to him-in blazing, flaming memories. "So? What's that got to do with it?"
"Don't you see, baby? They can't do anything to him unless they do it to me too? I'm in that as deep as he. If they lock him up,' they have to put me away too."
Jon held her firmly by the shoulders and shook her slightly. "But that's over and done! That's not apart of your life anymore!"
Marcus said, "I'm not interested in any harm coming to Rosanne. It's you I'm getting rid of once and for all. This place stinks of incest!"
Jon stood still. "I'm not going without a fight." Marcus turned and left the apartment by the kitchen door, slamming it so hard behind him that the curtain rod fell.
Rosanne ran to the bedroom and came out cramming a large wad of money in Jon's hand. "Hurry! Out the back window! Quick! Before they come! Go on! Hurry, Jon!"
"Roz ... what are we going to do?"
She pushed him toward the back of the apartment down the hall. "Don't think about that now. Just get away as far as you can. Canada, Mexico, anywhere. And then call me. Call me, Jon, and I'll come. Now go! Please, baby, please!"
"I love you."
"Jon!" She grabbed him with all her might and cried.
He held her and never wanted to let her go. He squeezed her and felt his whole body shaking, shimmying, shivering. He held her as close as he could and hugged her all over to make sure their bodies touched completely. Then-just as he was about to break down-he ran toward the window and climbed out onto the fire escape.
Outside the kitchen, men were breaking down the door.
He reached Canada late that night because he used almost all the money Rosanne had given him to fly. He didn't call her right away because he wasn't sure whether she would be able to answer the phone or not. But then he decided if he waited too long, he might not be able to find her at all.
She promised to meet him at the end of the school year which was just a month or two away. In the meantime, Jon found a U.S. Army deserter and his common law wife who were willing to let him live at their farm in exchange for work he did for them.
He was very happy. He didn't feel at all like a fugitive, but rather, he felt like a free man-his own man. He began to piece together some plans for himself-plans that called for his staying on the farm for about a year or so and then returning to the United States.
Rosanne did not come up at the end of the school year to see him as promised, but when she did, which was at Christmas time, she brought him good news-the news that she had filed charges and that Marcus had been convicted on three counts of assault and rape. Their mother, she explained, had suffered terribly, but was doing better now.
They slept with the couple who owned the farm, but did not sleep with each other. They never slept with each other again. Rosanne returned to Florida at the end of her Christmas vacation and was not to see Jon for another year when she flew out to visit him in Colorado.
While she was there, Jon received a letter from Elena with whom he had started corresponding, and in the letter Elena expressed how happy she was that everything had turned out so well for Jon and his sister. She enclosed the name and address and telephone number of a girlfriend of hers who lived in Glenwood Springs, Colorado-and it was that girlfriend of Elena's who was to become Jon's wife.
