Regardless of the number of controls, economic or otherwise, placed on the American way of life today, sex and the sexual orgasm are two things the White House will never be able to regulate.
Even so, since Mother Eve first wore a fig leaf and Adam wore a hole in it, certain minority elements of any given social order have, at one time or another, evinced a virtually slavish dedication in their attempts to control the sexual orgasm. This is especially true in the United States today, and by far and large the most aggressive of these elements are the politicians and the religionists. In addition, the efforts of these two groups have so thoroughly merged over the years that the tactics of the one is remarkably similar to the tactics of the other. The most outstanding success realized thus far is due to their dogged insistence in the perpetuation of the marriage ceremony.
This ceremony, in reality, does nothing for the marrying couple other than give them a valid license to fuck. Once married, say the politicians, the couple has the right to fuck within the confines of law and order. The religionists agree with this, and further confirm that the married couple has a right, in the eyes of God, to fuck. Both elements overlook one undeniable, irrevocable fact: Adam and Eve were never married. In view of this, it would seem we are all bastards.
Be this as it may, Miss Sybil Garvey places no restrictions whatsoever on the sexual activities of the characters portrayed in . Several months of careful research went into the preparation of the manuscript before it was presented for publication, and the story plainly reveals Miss Garvey's meticulous attention to detail-an increasingly rare quality among many writers of today.
The cause for this attention to detail is easily understood, however, when one learns Miss Garvey co-authored, along with Dr. Ruth Rosen, the now famous Rosen Reports; a series of impartial studies of the sex mores and motivations of today's American society.
The first of these Reports: Sex and Social Nudism, far surpasses in detail, both in scope and depth, any related work of its kind and is widely recommended as a reference by sociologists and those in associated fields of endeavor. With such a background of attention to even the most minute details, it is therefore not difficult to see why, in , Miss Garvey devotes some forty pages to portraying a graphic account of fellatio between the principal female character and one of her adolescent protegees.
Such attention to seemingly insignificant and plethoric minutiae serve magnificently to depict vividly those aspects of society in the United States today which, when it is convenient or profitable to them, cause politicians and religionists to salivate copiously, screaming wildly in protest that society is coming apart at the seams and the United States is going to hell. Again they ignore historical facts.
In the millenniums since Adam wore a hole in Eve's fig leaf there is no record of any society collapsing and being dispatched forthwith to the agonies of eternal fire and damnation because Adam and Eve obeyed when their Creator instructed them to "be fruitful, multiply and replenish the Earth." And without a license yet! Politicians and religionists ignore this.
They would have you believe that unless they sanction it personally in some manner or other, sex and the sexual orgasm are vile and shameful things which could get you barbecued from everlasting to everlasting. To this we respond with a loud and vehement 'yucht'! was not written with the idea of sending anybody to hell. Nor do we propose to accept the judgments of any dissenting element of society. Privilege of rendering such judgment lies with you, the reader.
You will find the Rated X books, along with their companions, the Surrey Collectors Series and the HIS 69 gay titles at your favorite adult bookstore or newsstand each and every month. Serious collectors of strictly adult reading will want them all, side by side on their private book shelves for definite re-reading and ready reference.
-THE PUBLISHERS
CHAPTER ONE
"Down on your knees!" The harsh words cracked over the bedroom like the lash of a whip. "You want your part of our inheritance, Miss Holier Than Thou? Good! Then down on your knees, crawl across the room and suck my rusty cock!"
Dee Manor stood in the bathroom doorway, staring at her naked brother on the other side of the room. He had stripped and entered while she was showering, and she stood there now clutching the large towel covering her nudity from breasts to knees.
"Van, what are you saying?" Her voice sounded strange, unnatural, and her large blue eyes never wavered from her brother. Van was five years her senior, and it was in his hands their old-fashioned father had left control, save for a monthly allowance, of her part of their multi-million dollar legacy until she reached forty years of age.
"Females have no business sense," their father had been wont to say. "It takes a man to manage money. Besides, the All Mighty put the female on earth as something for a man to fuck, not to go into business."
"You know damned well what I'm saying!" Van Manor spat, handsome face congested with angry blood. "You want me to relinquish control of your part of the inheritance before you're forty, fifteen years from now? Then crawl over here on your hands and knees and gobble my prick! And don't try to tell me you know nothing about sucking pricks, dear little sister. You and I know why you pledged that large donation to the Spaatz Military Academy for boys down the block, don't we? All those innocent young boys and like that? And then there's not many oh-so-elegant young ladies who keep a two-hundred pound bear for a house pet, is there? Especially not one with a cock the size of-"
"Van!" Blood crept slowly up Dee's neck and fused her lovely face a deep crimson. She fought to keep her gaze from dropping to the enormous set of male genitals her brother sported. She suspected Van knew of her fixation, which her psychiatrist said was not at all unusual among healthy, sexually oriented young women. She had no proof, but was virtually certain he had for years known of her strange obsession regarding male genitalia and, now, for some reason best known to himself, he was taunting her with it.
"Van, why are you doing this?" A quick, hard tightening sprang into her loins as she chanced one swift look at his crotch, at the great, ribbed length of male penis underscored by a brace of huge, throbbing, cum-bloated balls, protruding therefrom. The look was almost too much. She almost succumbed to the powerful compulsive forces gathering inside her slender body. Had she kept her eyes on her brother's genitals a full second by the clock she would have done exactly as he demanded, would have gone down to hands and knees, crawled across the padded floor and commenced to make love to his prick and balls. Her obsession with the male genitalia was that strong, the compulsive forces in her golden body were that powerful. When Van did not answer, but continued to stand there glaring at her in silence, she repeated her question: "Van, why are you doing this?"
Unconsciously, without being aware he did so, Van Manor shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. He had no clear cut answer to his beautiful sister's question. He did not know precisely why he was belaboring her. He only had a suspicion of why, and the suspicion terrified him.
He had been driving past the estate their father left Dee, and as he drew near her property he was set upon by the same peculiar yearnings and hungers that had tormented him since that time years ago, when Dee was only an innocent thirteen, they had gone swimming together in the raw. But Dee was no longer thirteen, nor innocent, and he yearned with a maddening desire to ... Dear god! What manner of animal had he become?
Dee did not wait for her brother's answer, for she sensed no answer would be forthcoming, sensed her brother's frustrations, as she had always been able to sense his moods and whims. She turned toward the tall Gothic window of her bedroom that opened onto a broad expanse of manicured lawn that terminated at the edge of the Spaatz Military Academy some fifty yards away.
Dee Manor was stronger than her brother. She knew this. She also knew what it was about her that tormented him and, in her anxiety to end this ridiculous farce he had brought about she decided to call his bluff-if he were bluffing. It would take all her mortal strength to do so, but she had no choice. Timmy would be arriving soon in hopes of seeing Cynthia, and she could not have sweet little innocent Timmy Evers discovering her and her brother naked in her bedroom. God forbid!
And so, exerting a superhuman effort to squelch the ravenous hungers smoldering inside her, halfway to the window she loosed her hold on the towel and turned to face her brother.
"All right, Van," she said quietly, yet with all her strength unable to suppress a quivering in her tone. "If you insist I'll do as you ask, but not on my hands and knees. Lie down there on the bed and I'll suck-I'll give you a blow-I'll do as you ask."
Van Manor started in surprise. His jaw dropped and his handsome features sagged loose. A deep, vibrant breath shook him as he stared at his sister. A great shaft of late afternoon sunlight streamed through the tall window and Dee stood bathed in its brilliance like some small, golden Viking goddess, so breathtakingly beautiful his eyes ached simply from looking at her.
The hereditary traits of large bones and heavy, muscular bodies ran in the women of the Manor family; their mother had been so built, but Dee defied these traits. She was small of stature, hardly reaching to his shoulder, delicately boned and, though slender as a whispering willow, so perfectly molded that as Van stared his tongue clove to the roof of his mouth.
She was blonde, as were all the Manors, with a rich, silken wealth of golden tresses that hung down her back in soft waves, and her waist was so tiny above the gentle flare of her hips Van knew he could span it with his hands; had done so on many occasions when they were growing up.
Her soft facial features harmonized perfectly with her enormous, crystal blue eyes and gave her the appearance of an eager, dewy-eyed angel anxious to please. But there was nothing angelic about the twin resilient protuberances of her breasts. They were large and full, tight looking, and except for their shape reminded him of two identical honey-dew melons, fully ripe and bursting with juice. Nor for all their size did they sag, but were cone-shaped, thrusting out and slightly upward from her small body, as if demanding titillation.
Van pulled his gorging eyes from these succulent delights and let his gaze wander lower, past the tiny waist and flat tummy; at the center of which rested her cute little navel, and lower still until his eyes focused on that part of her naked body below the navel, where thighs and body joined and, at the juncture of which, directly in the center of and slightly below the enticing swell of her hips, a great mass of crinkly-soft, honey blonde bristles shielded his avid gaze from her cunt itself.
A hot, lustful seizure attacked Van Manor, hit him so hard he shook-'visibly, and for a nuance Dee experienced a twinge of apprehension that her bluff had failed. Then, instinctively, she came up with the psychological parry that gave her tactic sustenance.
"Come on, Van," she whispered throatily. "Lie down on the bed there and I'll suck your peter." Then she patted the mass of honey blonde curls of her cunt, massaging it suggestively. "And then you can get in this. That's what it's all about anyway, isn't it? You want to fuck your sister but don't have the brass to say so. Am I not right? So you come here to find me taking a shower, strip, then expose yourself to me, accusing me of rutting with the youngsters at Spaatz because I pledged a large contribution to help support the school. You even hint that I keep my bear, Boffo, around for sexual purposes-and all because you don't have the balls to walk up to me and say: 'Come on, sis, let's fuck.' "
Her ploy was entirely successful. At these quiet words, which struck Van like blows of a hammer, a hoarse, despairing sound issued from his pallid lips. It is to his credit that he managed to retain control of himself.
"Your pledge to the Academy was based on your hope I'd relinquish control of your part of the inheritance to you," he gritted savagely, which served to conceal the almost suffocating confusion he felt. "But I'm not! Not until I must! When you're forty years old. I told Walter Harris the same thing yesterday when he asked why I didn't surprise you by signing the papers as a birthday gift. But I won't sign them, not till you're forty years old. And without the inheritance where will you get money to keep your pledge? Huh? Tell me! Where will you get the money? And unless the pledge is kept, decrepit old General Spaatz and his Academy will sink like a plum bob in a well!"
Van cursed himself bitterly in silence for having yielded to the idiotic impulse which had caused him to stop by his sister's, and impose on her the demand that she suck his cock in return for his giving her the rightful part of their legacy. It shamed and humiliated him to realize the unnatural emotions she fanned to inferno pitch inside him could force him to denigrate them both in such a manner. But a quirk in his male ego would not permit him to withdraw until he had a bit further vented his spleen on his beautiful sister.
"As for Boffo," he stormed. "Fuck him any time you like-I suspect you do anyway!" Wild laughter cackled from his lips as he envisioned the small delicate body of his sister coupled in lust with her great, shaggy brown bear. "Share yourself with Boffo and Walter Harris both if you and Walter get married, providing you can talk Walter into marrying you without your inheritance!"
Van appeared about to speak further, but the self-anger and frustration churning inside him cut him short. With one last despairing sweep of his eyes over his sister's naked beauty, he whirled and disappeared into the adjoining bedroom.
Dee stood perfectly motionless, unaware there was another visitor in her bedroom, in the sunlight bathing her through the Gothic window. She depicted the personification of a small, slender golden goddess of heart pounding sexuality, and remained motionless until she heard her brother's hurried departure. Then a great and heavy weariness settled over her.
Angus Manor, her crotchety, narrow-minded, old-fashioned father, with his superannuated ideas concerning the female sex, had placed her and her brother in a position where Van threatened any happiness she possessed or hoped to achieve for the rest of her life. Perhaps she should go ahead and fuck Van-providing that was what troubled him, and she was certain it was. She had heard from numerous girlfriends that Van was a tiger in bed, but an incestuous relationship with her brother had never seriously occurred to her. She loved Van deeply as a brother, and knew he loved her, but the idea of their having sex together left her a bit muddled. And yet, at the same time....
Dee shook her head sharply to brush away the hot, insidious memory of Van's huge, upthrusting penis and the enormous testicles dangling below it, and turned toward her dressing table to begin her make-up. Timmy Evers, a cadet from the Academy, would be arriving soon in hopes of seeing Cynthia, her and Van's orphaned niece who lived with her, and-
Movement of the door opening onto the hallway outside her bedroom was reflected in the dressing table's mirror caught her eye, and she whirled.
"Timmy!" she gasped, then rushed to the closet for a robe, never seeing the small figure hunkered amongst the racks of clothes in the closet.
"Timmy," she repeated, due to the pressures of the moment never realizing the gossamer robe she threw about her shoulders accentuated her nudity rather than concealed it. "What are you doing in my bedroom?" Her bedroom was no mystery to certain of the Academy's cadets, yet she had always been very selective of those she invited into it. Until this moment Timmy had never seen inside it before.
Timothy Bancroft Evers was exactly fourteen years, nine months and seventeen chaste, virginal days old as he stood there in flaming faced stupifaction in his trim, smartly cut military uniform, a small bunch of flowers in a sweaty hand. His throat worked, his facial muscles moved as though he were attempting to articulate an appropriate reply, but when he failed to do so, Dee said again, this time softly, from a sudden sure knowledge of things to come:
"Timmy, dear, what are you doing in my bedroom?"
Despite the lad's youth and the difference in their ages, Dee was forced to stand almost on tiptoes to bring her eyes on a level with his as she unnecessarily adjusted the lapels of his military tunic, for Timmy Evers was one of those boys destined to reach maturity with a physical build professional football scouts dream of discovering but so seldom do.
"I-I-" Timmy almost made it, then finally succeeded. "I was looking for Cynthia," he blurted. "I couldn't find her anywhere, and when I heard voices in here I-I-"
"You peeked inside? Not knowing it was my bedroom?" Dee had recovered quickly from a brief moment of indecision-what there was of it-the instant she had discovered Timmy's presence-even before she managed to get the robe around her shoulders. She knew exactly what she was going to do. Cynthia, her thirteen-year-old niece, had told her of Timmy's fumbling request for an early evening date in laughing derision, then departed to visit a girlfriend named Julie.
"Aunt Dee," Cynthia had said in leaving. "You tell that Timmy Evers for me to grow up to be a man, then ask me for a date, the bumbling oaf!"
"Cynthia isn't here, Timmy," Dee whispered throatily. "She told me I could have her date with you. Do you mind?"
Timmy stood stone still, face beet red from a welter of conflicting emotions charging about inside his young frame like wild horses. He had seen Miss Manor nekkid! His friends at the Academy would never believe it. Never! He gulped again, rustily; it sounded like a bathroom plunger in action.
"Timmy, do you mind if I have Cynthia's date with you?" Dee purred, holding him with her large blue eyes. "Of course-" Here she allowed regret to enter her tone. "Of course, a date with an old woman like me probably wouldn't interest a dashing, handsome young military man like you."
"Miss Manor," Timmy blurted. "You're not old."
Every boy at the Academy had a fierce adolescent crush on her, a fact Dee had been aware of for a good while and which, according to her psychiatrist, was a transference to her of a subconscious search for the maternal affection the boys developed on being separated from their mothers. Dee did not question her psychiatrist's analysis, but had on many occasions made very good use of it, as she was about to do at present.
An excited tingling overspread her loins, and inside her body she experienced a quick beginning of that loose, fluid warmth which meant her vaginal lubricating fluids were increasing. It always happened thus when she was about to divest another of depraved old General Spaatz' charges of his virginity.
"Oooh, you don't think I'm an old woman, Timmy?" Dee feigned pleased surprise. "Why, I'm almost twenty-five. In fact, my birthday anniversary is just around the corner; this week. Would you like to come to my birthday party, Timmy?" She took the small bunch of flowers he clutched and tossed them into a chair beside the door, then began toying with the brass buttons of his tunic, the hand on the bottom button just above his prick-area. "Would you, Timmy?"
The lad stood there staring fixedly across the room at nothing in particular, giving the impression of a person gradually but unmistakably increasing in size, as a person suffering from a fierce nervous excitement might do. In fact, he seemed about to choke from the growing tightness of his collar when Dee lifted both hands to his tie.
"Here, Timmy," she murmured. "Let me unbutton your collar and loosen your tie. They make you look uncomfortable. Would you come to my birthday party, Timmy?"
"Yes, Miss Manor!" Due to his highly emotionalized condition, which was rapidly becoming more acute, the words burst from his lips and ricocheted about the walls like shell shot. But he made no further sound, nor did he make any move to aid or resist as Dee loosened his tie, unbuttoned the collar of his shirt, then worked the tunic off his young shoulders and tossed it to the chair with the bouquet of flowers.
In his ignorance of sex, Timmy Evers had no previous experiences to judge the situation he found himself in, and therefore could not, for a certainty, know what was about to happen. As for Dee, since she had enacted scenes similar to this before, she recognized Timmy was being highly excited but could not know, nor even guess, the extent of his excitement. And neither Timmy nor Dee knew of the intensely excited pair of young eyes that stared at them from among the garments in the closet, whence Dee had taken her robe. The eyes belonged to Cynthia Manor, illegitimate daughter of Dee and Van's deceased sister, Rachel.
Cynthia Manor, like her Aunt Dee and the other Manor women, was blonde, with hazel eyes and, later in life, unlike her Aunt Dee, she would develop the big boned, heavy frame characteristics of the Manor women. Yet at present, at age thirteen, as she crouched among the camouflaging garments of Dee's closet, she had the slender, fragile delicacy of a woodland nymph-and was just as horny, if not hornier.
CHAPTER TWO
Since Cynthia's mother had died, no one except Dee, not even the man who had sired her nor Cynthia herself, knew the identity of her father. Cynthia had been conceived one night at a party during a casual coupling between Rachel Manor and the then junior partner of the law firm who handled the Manor family's legal matters, Walter Harris. Angus Manor had died before learning of his older daughter's pregnancy, and shortly before her death in a plane crash ten years later, Rachel had revealed the identity of Cynthia's father to Dee, but extracting from her the vow never to disclose that identity, and to raise Cynthia as her own should anything happen to her, Rachel.
Dee had kept her vows, though the relationship between her and Cynthia was much more that found between very compatible friends than found between mother and daughter or aunt and niece. Later, when Dee suspected she might be falling in love with Walter Harris herself, these vows and her secret knowledge had troubled her greatly. But any more she never thought of the matters unless they came to mind unannounced. She found it more comforting that way.
Cynthia had not lied to her aunt in saying earlier she meant to visit her girlfriend Julie. The reason behind this visit was to show Julie the gadget she had discovered in a drawer of her Aunt Dee's dressing table the day before. This gadget was a mechanical penis, a vibrator, which Cynthia had recognized at once, because it was exactly, in appearance and in description, like the vibrators she and Julie had seen advertised in an underground newspaper.
Cynthia had been unable to complete her visit simply because, when she had entered the bedroom for the vibrator, her aunt had entered to take a shower a moment thereafter, almost catching her before she concealed herself, and the vibrator, in the closet. Then, later, when she was on the verge of leaving the closet, her Uncle Van had appeared, naked, waiting for her aunt to emerge from the bathroom. Since then, of course, she had not been given an opportunity to escape undetected, so now she crouched amongst the garments hanging in the huge walk-in closet, the vibrator tightly gripped in both hands, hazel eyes avidly devouring the scene unfolding before her.
Cynthia was not unaware that her beloved Aunt Dee on occasion entertained male friends in her bedroom, and felt reasonably sure she knew what path this entertainment followed, because a number of times she had listened outside the bedroom door, and further because the proprietor of the kiosk where she and Julie bought the underground newspaper also permitted them to purchase certain books and magazines, with pictures even, which described and showed everything that could take place between a man and woman in bed.
But what on earth could Aunt Dee have in mind for Timmy Evers? Timmy was an infant!
Cynthia smothered an impulsive snicker behind a quick hand at sight of Timmy's red-faced discomfiture. What on earth could a fumbling clod like Timmy Evers know about sex, also?
As she hunkered there in the closet, hazel eyes missing nothing, the vibrator in her hands, Cynthia unconsciously began with her right hand to finger the tight, smooth nylon area of the panties that covered her pussy, a very pronounced feeling of embarrassment and envy stealing over her. This feeling had commenced and steadily increased since she had first laid eyes on her naked aunt some minutes ago, and seen the great, crinkly mass of blonde bristles covering her aunt's straddle and pleasure mound. Cynthia wrinkled her nose in mild self-disgust. Her straddle had no hair at all and her pleasure mound had only a skimpy, wispy few which were so short and fleecy they could scarcely be called hairs at all. In fact, unless she looked closely, she had trouble seeing them herself. Her pussy was naked! It was humiliating, that's what it was. It was also the main obstacle, so far, to offering herself to the yummy dreamboat she loved with heart and throbbing soul. But what would Walter think of her on learning her vagina was virtually barren of all pubic growth? What would be Walter's reaction to discovering her pussy was naked?
Abruptly, again, Cynthia made an impulsive snicker. She bet Mr. Dumb John Timmy Evers had a naked crotch too. She was about to find out, and this enhanced the growing realization she was also about to witness a male and female performing in bed as they did in those picture magazines she and Julie bought at the news kiosk.
This same realization had already dawned on Timmy, though he had yet to recognize it for what it was. As with practically all the cadets at Spaatz Military Academy, prior to his having been shuffled off to the school by parents who wanted him out from underfoot, his life had been a series of strict, gimlet-eyed governesses whose sole purpose of existence, Timmy had sometimes speculated, was to have him believe there was no such thing as sex on earth. But once he had seen the front cover of a Playboy magazine! And now also, breathless wonder, he had seen Miss Manor nekkid! Moreover, with the thin robe she had draped over her shoulders she, somehow, looked even more nekkid. As for whatever Miss Manor had in mind, what with Cynthia having gone to visit her girlfriend and all, why....
"Did you ever play with little girls before coming to the Academy, Timmy?" Dee murmured as she began unbuttoning his shirt. She knew his life, as well as the life of every other cadet, barring those who had visited her bedroom, had been sexless since entering the Academy. One of General Spaatz's strongest enrollment drawing cards was the fact he subtly propounded a life devoid of all sex, a hypocritical philosophy he made certain was carried over in all the Academy's advertising.
"Nuh-no, ma'am!" Again, due to the stress of internal pressures, Timmy's words bounced like shot around the room.
"Didn't you ever play doctor with any little girls, even when you were younger?"
Timmy shook his head, his composure beginning to return as Dee pulled the heavy khaki shirt from the tight waistband of his trousers.
"Playing doctor is a fascinating little game, Timmy." Dee was a measure relieved when the lad helped her get him out of the shirt. He was beginning to relax, and this was good. He had snapped drum-head tight on seeing her naked, had grown even tighter since. She had never seen a youngster so paralyzed by confusion-Oooooh! She was going to suck his little pecker till it was red as a turkey's comb.
Dee stood there in trembly erotic excitement as the lad began struggling out of his undershirt, and when she raised her arms to assist him, the robe draped over her shoulders slid silently to the floor to lay about her ankles in a wispy puddle of nylon. When Timmy succeeded in pulling the undershirt off over his head, and again saw Miss Manor standing there naked before him, he gawked.
"Oh, Timmy, come on," Dee chided fetchingly. "I know a knowledgeable military man of the world has seen a woman without her clothes on before. Haven't you?"
"Duh-" And thereupon Timothy Bancroft Evers consciously told the fire bare-faced lie of his life. "Duh-sure!" His flimsy grin belied the statement, but when the building failed to crash about his ears his masculinity was greatly reassured and emboldened. His gawking eyeballs receded to a point where he could view the golden, naked angel standing in front of him with less chaotic equanimity. Even so, when Dee's searching fingers found the tongue of the zipper and opened his fly, a certain numbing fear seized him briefly. He grabbed her wrists. "Duh! Miss Manor!"
Dee smiled sweetly. "Most discreet men of the world prefer to remove their trousers themselves." She gave him a conspiratorial wink. "Tell you what. I'll straighten the bed while you finish undressing."
The bed did not need straightening, but Dee busied herself about it nonetheless, as though it did, careful never to look directly in Timmy's direction, but never letting him entirely outside the sphere of her peripheral vision, either. Not only her straddle, but now her whole body tingled in erotic anticipation, and she yearned so fiercely to taste the virginal flavor of his innocent prick her throat ached. Still, she restrained herself and did not look at him as he began to undress.
Not so Cynthia Manor, crouched in the closet. She fairly boggled in open-mouthed absorption, missing not a move as Timmy began to remove the remainder of his garments. Cynthia's position was that of a half-squat, but as Timmy untied his heavy military brogans, kicked the shoes off, peeled free his socks, then reached for his belt buckle, she slowly came erect. The tip of her tongue emerged to moisten her dry lips, and she stepped backward in the closet as further insurance against detection, and held the vibrator up to the brighter light coming in over the top of a clothes rack. She studied the instrument in thoughtful speculation.
She had meant to use the vibrator with Julie, or at least try to use it with Julie, which was the real purpose behind her taking it in the first place, but now ... The tip of her tongue stole out a second time to moisten her lips, and she swallowed hard, her thoughtful frown growing deeper.
She had never been one to hesitate long in making decisions on matters of interest concerning herself, and now an overabundance of her youthful impatience came to the fore. In a thrice she skinned out of her white panties and threw the garment aside, forgetting it as she once again went into a half squat, this time with feet wide spread, the hem of her miniskirt gripped tightly against her ribs by her upper arms. Tentatively, with the hand not holding the vibrator, she felt for her pussy, again experiencing a twinge of self-disgust that her straddle was hairless. Since her thoughts were virtually always attuned to the erotic aspects of her life, her lymphatic juices were by custom copious. The rapid series of events she had witnessed, and was still witnessing, from the closet, did nothing to hamper their flow. In fact, her seepage was plethoric, the straddle of the panties she had just discarded were soppy from it and now, as her fingers probed eagerly about her hairless twat, the fingers grew wet and sticky.
Carefully she traced a forefinger through the hot little fleshy valley of her labia, flinched and gasped quietly when the finger brushed the tiny peak of her passion spur, flinched again and closed her eyes from a sudden wave of good sensations when the finger's end found and curled into the small passage of her untried cunt. She opened her eyes, face intense with passion, and looked sternly at the bullet-nosed end of the vibrator as the finger explored delicately into her vulva's hotness.
Disgust mixed with anger replaced some of the passion on her face. Gosh darn it! But she had known to begin with that her vagina was too small to accommodate the vibrator. Still, a girl wanted to make certain-because there was a remedy for her lack of size, a lack that simply had to be rectified before, as her and Julie's erotic books called it, she submitted her charms to Walter. As a possible means of implementing this rectification, Cynthia removed the forefinger from her pussy and planted the rounded end of the vibrator against her cuntal opening, gritted her teeth in determination, and shoved. Her mouth flew open against the sharp bite of electric-like pain that exploded from her vagina, and she straightened again, staring at the mechanical penis in despair and anger. Then her gaze focused once again on the scene in the bedroom, which recaptured all her attention.
Wow! Look at Timmy's prick!
Cynthia bit down on the back of her hand to stem a rush of derisive laughter. Timmy's prick had no more hair than did her pussy, and compared to the enormous genitals she had seen hanging from her Uncle Van's loins, Timmy's were almost miniatures-though not quite. But his prick wasn't as big as her dildo, and there suddenly flashed through her mind the image of her and Timmy cavorting in bed as did the naked couples shown in her and Julie's picture magazines. Gee ... but Timmy was only a boy! This fact seemed not to have occurred to her Aunt Dee at all.
From the edge of her eyesight Dee knew the instant Timmy stepped out of his Jockey shorts. Only then did she quit pretending to rearrange the bed covers and look at him. As with her niece in the closet only seconds before, and despite the fact that she felt virtually .aglow with erotic anticipation, she was forced to suppress a surge of laughter, though for a different reason than Cynthia's.
Timmy looked so cute! He stood there so stiffly erect at attention he canted a bit to the right, his hairless balls tight up into his crotch, his little pecker, which had an enormous foreskin, not more than four or five inches in length, and his visored military cap at a rakish angle atop his head. The look on his red face Dee could only define as dumb confusion, and confused was precisely the way she wanted him. In such a condition she could do with him anything she chose.
"Here, Timmy." She stepped so close the points of her cone-shaped breasts touched his chest and the end of his peter poked her in the tummy just above the line of her pubic hair. "Let me take your cap." She dropped the cap among the scatter of his other garments. Timmy merely stood there, neck swollen as though it might burst. Dee took him by the arm and led him to the bed. "Just lie there in the center on your back."
He complied like a sleepwalker might have; slowly, somewhat stiffly, obviously overwhelmed by the emotions of the moment. Dee's craving to get his prick in her mouth was so acute her throat actually ached with a physical pain, yet she must proceed slowly. Too much too soon could well turn the youngster's pliable attitude into fright.
Due to the fact that he had no past experience with which to relate his present situation and condition, Timmy felt he might suddenly burst into flame. Being in bed naked with Miss Manor had never entered his wildest flights of fantasy before, but the fact that he was in bed with her, and keenly aware that he was, left him somewhat stunned about the fringes. He made no sound save an occasional rusty gulp, nor even batted an eye.
He hardly seemed to breathe at all as Dee took up a position on her side next to him. She cuddled one of her lush breasts close to his lips. Timmy was truly an unexpected prize, and she was determined to prolong her session with him as long as possible. She cuddled the breast closer.
"Have you ever kissed one of these, Timmy?"
Timmy stared at the pinkish-tan crown of the resilient mound of female flesh and licked out his tongue.
"No, ma'am."
"Then kiss it for me, will you?"
A hard, sharp shiver of ecstasy shot through Dee's naked body as the hot moistness of his young mouth closed over the sensitive nipple. She gasped desperately when, instinctively, the lips began to tug and suck at her flesh, the tip of his tongue exploring the very crown of her breast. Withdrawing the nipple was the hardest thing she had ever done, but she did it. Otherwise she feared she might lose control of the situation.
"Now. That's fine, Timmy. You did it wonderfully. Would you like for me to return the favor?"
Timmy nodded mutely. He had absolutely no notion as to what Miss Manor had in mind, but if he had been concerned over it at all, he was now past that point.
"Then spread your legs out wide." Dee rolled lightly on top of him, and scooted downward until her head was poised above his genitals, the searing touch of her body against his young flesh all but driving her into hysterics.
The threat of hysterics multiplied enormously when the heady, intoxicating scent of his naked young genitals wafting upward reached her nostrils. She shuddered, violently, and would not look at Timmy, fearing the raw, primitive lust which must be visible in her eyes might alarm the boy.
From the closet Cynthia gaped in intense erotic enthrallment. She squatted low now, peering through the bottom of the garments, the dildo on the floor beside her, and clutching her pussy with both hands against the burning ache tormenting it.
Dee lay perfectly motionless a moment after scooting down in the bed, lids half lowered, luxuriating in the maddening perfume of young Timmy's prick and balls. She shuddered. Even though her psychiatrist had told her that her seemingly inordinate fascination with the male genitalia was not really uncommon among healthy, normal, sexually oriented women, she sometimes questioned his diagnosis. The fierce, quivery joys she felt at the moment just because of her proximity to Timmy's sex organs was anything but common. Carefully, delicately, between thumb and forefinger, she took the foreskin covered glans of Timmy's throbbing little pecker. Timmy flinched, produced an odd noise in his throat, and stiffened momentarily, eyes clinched.
"Easy, dear," Dee murmured. "I'm not going to hurt you."
Unlike the deeper hue of the mature male penis, "Timmy's yet retained its baby complexion, and the very tip of the glans, barely visible down through the somewhat wrinkled tip of the snouted foreskin, was a hot, moist pink. Dee studied his foreskin. Even with his hard-on, it still extended almost half an inch beyond the end of the penis itself, causing his prick to look much longer than it actually was. She wondered if it were possible for a woman to fall in love with a youngster's genitals, then realized the question was already answered, for certainly she was in love with Timmy's. Dear God, what if Van could see her now; or Walter, whom she on occasion suspected herself of loving but could not be sure. And yet, for the moment, who cared a tat for the opinion of either Van or Walter?
Gently she increased the pressure of thumb and forefinger on the glans to prevent the cock from slipping aside, and slowly began to peel the foreskin downward, eyes set in rapt fixation as the circle of skin gradually tightened, growing wrinkle free as it expanded.
"Timmy?" The whisper was hoarse with passion. "Do you know what I am about to do?"
A long moment of silence went by, during which time Timmy won the struggle with his emotions sufficiently to croak: "Nuh-no, ma'am."
"I'm going to suck your prick, Timmy. Have you ever had your prick sucked before?"
"Nuh-no, ma'am."
Dee glanced up briefly as the thought struck her. "But you do know what a sexual orgasm is, don't you?"
Again the long silence, then finally: "Nuh-no, ma'am."
And again the streak of fierce exultation shot through Dee's lush, naked body. It was exactly as she had suspected. He was a virgin. But to clinch her conclusion, she asked: "Have you never masturbated, Timmy? Have you never played with yourself?"
The lad's only reply was a low, negative moan that betrayed his savage internal turmoil. Dee did not press the point. To do so required further conversation. She had a virgin of virgins in the purest sense of the word in bed with her. The time could be spent at something better than conversation, and since it was the servants' day off, she could spend all the time at it she chose.
Cynthia, in the closet, could have given an affirmative answer to her aunt's question. She had masturbated before, frequently played with herself, was at the moment engaged in such activity, working herself toward a sexual orgasm. She hunkered low, staring through the garments in slack-faced absorption, the second finger of her right hand creating tiny sucking noises as it worked in taut agitation inside the fiery mouth of her hairless young pussy. She was so thoroughly enraptured by the scene unfolding on the bed she was not consciously aware of watching Dee and Timmy. Instead, in her inflamed imagination, she saw her naked self on the bed with the naked subject of her adolescent crush, Walter Harris.
CHAPTER THREE
An area of Timmy's glans the size of a dime now showed through the circle of foreskin, which was becoming wrinkle free under the downward drag of Dee's fingers. She dipped her head, brought the tip of her nose to within a quarter inch of his prick. A hard tightness came into her throat, and tiny prickling sensations burst in her vagina as she inhaled deeply of the fresh, spicy male tang of the emerging glans and the accumulation of boyish cheese under the foreskin. Dear god, what precious delights were these?
It was not without considerable effort that Dee refrained from seizing the small rigid fragrant penis with her lips and sucking wildly. But she did refrain, supplanting the urge with greater self control, and continued to watch, avidly, as she continued to peel the foreskin down.
Almost half of Timmy's glans was now exposed. It seemed to ooze gradually upward from the descending collar of foreskin-and what a magnificent foreskin it was! She was far from being unfamiliar with foreskins; they had contributed to some of the most ecstatic moments of her life, and Timmy's, in time, would likely equal that of her brother Van's.
Some years ago, when she was thirteen, in a mischievous moment of adolescent prankishness, she and Van had gone swimming nude together. It was the first time either had ever seen the other's naked body, and the first thing her eyes had focused on was the unusually long and thick rubbery snout of her brother's foreskin.
Her maid, Sarah Dow, had once hinted that the gardener, Ed Jarman, had a large foreskin, but Dee doubted if Jarman's could equal that of her brother's. If Van ever married, his wife could be thankful to her dead father-in-law that Van was never circumcised. Old Angus Manor had entertained an almost rabid opposition against the practice.
"Circumcision hell!" Dee had once surreptitiously overheard her father snort in disdain. "Cut off the end of a man's dick and you cut off his best part."
Then Dee had not understood what her father was talking about, but in time she did. And experience had taught that her father was right. There was something additionally, wonderously gratifying about lying under the weight of a man's body, her thighs held wide and free, a thick male prick with a huge roll of foreskin probing gently amongst her secret places, and each time he withdrew his loins, as his prick was in the act of withdrawing, to buck her own loins out and down and feel the compressed flesh of her vagina slide with a delicious 'bump' over the tight roll of his foreskin.
Timmy's foreskin continued to recede, his glans continued to ooze upward, and a second time Dee dipped her head low, once more inhaling ecstatically of the odor of his groins. .
In the closet Cynthia repeatedly licked her lips as the finger squirming in and out of her tight little pussy repeatedly produced tiny 'thucks' of sound. Her belly was beginning to tighten in proportion to the increase of a rosy glow blossoming in her hairless cunt.
The waning sun was slowly disappearing behind the distant horizon, yet there was still enough light coming through the window to reflect shafts of it off Timmy's emerging glans, which gave it a hotter, pinker hue. Dee's tongue also came out to moisten her ripe lips. The move was instinctive, made unconsciously in preparation to sliding them down around the hard shaft of Timmy's throbbing sex-meat. But Dee continued to hold herself back. The fringe delights of sucking Timmy's prick had not been fully partaken of as yet and she wanted them every one.
With this in mind she shifted her position a bit, adjusting herself to a more advantageous stance, then freed his prick and cupped her palms under the sweaty cheeks of his skinny ass.
"Raise your knees high and hold them wide and back toward your chest, Timmy." The words emerged as a thick mumble of lust, but the lad had no trouble understanding, for he obeyed promptly. And just as promptly Dee began to collect her fringe delights.
Gently she began to lick and nip all the satiny, sensitive skin of his thighs within reach. When she accomplished this, Timmy's whole body shook. He lay aquiver, eyes tightly clinched, teeth gritting, weird noises bursting from his throat in gaspy jerks from the waves of mind-numbing goodness sloshing over him.
After Dee finished with his thighs, she concentrated on his scrotum. Aside from the actual act of sucking a prick itself, to her, for a reason she had never tried to understand, nut sucking was the ne plus ultra of thrills provided by fellatio. She approached the delicious orbs from afar, away down below Timmy's hairless scrotum and in the sweat-damp cleavage of his buttocks. Cautiously her caressing tongue drew nearer the tight brown pucker of his fragrant anus, which began to blink furiously in protest at the unaccustomed intrusion. Her tongue slowly circled it, licking and laving hungrily.
"Gah! Gah! Gah!"
For some seconds Dee kept her tongue vigorously active in that super sensitive area separating his anus and scrotum. Then, without further ado, she spread her lips wide and seized both nuts and nuksack with the moist, gossamer heat of her mouth.
"Gah! Gah! Gah! Aarrroooowww!" The hoarse, desperate cry sprang from the youngester's lips like a gopher from its hole. He surged partially upright, then flopped back onto the bed, fighting for breath.
Dee's blonde cunt spasmed once, twice, thrice in rapid fire succession, and she tightened herself to fight back the orgasm building in her loins. Not yet, please. Not yet!
She sucked his nuts with gentle fervor, her nose near the base of his prick, her mouth forming a soft circle that encompassed the whole of his scrotum, exercising care not to suck too hard and glorying in the unmistakable unwashed boy-flavor of his sweet, tender sex-flesh. God, but it was good to be alive! In a minute now she would begin sucking his prick-she shivered in quivering anticipation of the joys to come.
In the closet Cynthia finger-fucked herself in grim ferocity, eyes beginning to glaze with lust but a part of her mind cursing fate in general and her virginal state in particular because the finger was not Walter's prick and because her pussy was so small.
Slowly, savoringly, Dee withdrew her mouth a fraction at a time, the process resembling the act of a person gradually spitting out an egg. When at last her mouth and Timmy's scrotum were separated, she reclined her head against one of his upturned thighs, sighing blissfully. Now for the real delights of fellatio. All that had gone before had been mere window dressing, or icing on the cake, as it were. But now the time had come for the real joys of feeling the hard, insistent throb of a rigid male penis in her throat.
"You can lower your legs now if you like, Timmy." Her voice was so ragged with passion she hardly recognized it herself. "Just stretch them out wide on the bed on either side of me."
She pulled her hands free from under his ass and his legs hit the bed with a flop, as though he had suddenly lost control of them. Dee said nothing else. At a time like this talk was as useless as tits on a boar hog. She adjusted her position back to where it formerly was and levered his angled prick toward her by forking the first two fingers of her left hand about its base. For some seconds she lay peering down into the vacant eye of his glans. Now that the exquisite moment had arrived she found herself beset by a strange reluctance to culminate it, because when she did her anticipation would be over. Then she shook her head sharply. She must be flipping! Getting his prick in her mouth was what it was all about! And yet there was valid cause for delaying a moment longer.
The tight, thick roll of Timmy's foreskin was as she'had left it; with only half of the glans exposed, and she could enhance her anticipation a bit longer by playing with it.
Dee did not realize her expectations. Timmy's glans were so swollen, his foreskin so tightly stretched, that the instant she touched it, the foreskin snapped down behind the shoulder of the glans like a rubber band. Her tongue came out to wet her lips. So be it. Yet now that his glans was fully exposed she could not resist sniffing its strong odor once more. When the spicy, zesty tang of his fresh young prick hit her nostrils, her blonde-thatched cunt again twitched threateningly. It was pointless to prolong the moment a second longer, otherwise she would be cumming anyway.
Again she wet her full lips with her tongue, pursed them into a small circle, poised then a second at the tip of Timmy's ribbed little cock, then slid the hot, silken circle of moist female flesh down over the glans, cleaning it thoroughly, down past the thick roll of foreskin, and down the pulsating, veined stalk of his sex-meat to the very base.
"Gah-huk! Gah-huk! Heeeeeeeee!-he!-he!-he!-he!" Timmy wrenched up from the bed like a boy on fire, tongue lashing out wildly, and might have thrown them both to the floor had his chest not encountered Dee's palm, which pushed him firmly back to the bed where he lay thrashing, throwing his head up each few heartbeats to glare madly at the soft, full female lips squirming wetly, gently, about his throbbing cock.
In the closet Cynthia Manor's glazed eyes lost their focus as she lost her balance and pitched quietly to her side, where she lay twisting and grunting while the hot, sweet rapture of orgasm surged to the fore in her young cunt.
At that same instant Dee braced herself and a second later winced from the force of the fiery spurts of cum that shot from Timmy's geysering cock and jetted against her larnyx. He did not have much cum. It was the first orgasm of his fourteen years and there were only a few drops, though one would have never suspected this from his insane thrashing and the eerie cries erupting from his throat. Despite its dearth, Dee did not miss a drop of his cum, but gloried in each particle of it, not merely sucking as it flushed down her gullet, but gobbling ferociously at the disgorging young peter, gobbling like a woman gone mad, nostrils flanging spastically, eyes lidded and dulled by lust in the fierce intensity of her passion.
A tremor smote her and she relaxed, let all tension flow out of her lower body so her orgasm could have its way. It did. With vigor and gusto. Her inner cunt spasmed convulsively, violently, her belly flesh knotted and the muscles of the thighs jerked of their own accord as the hot, liquid sensations of delicious cum burst forth in her womb and overspread her completely. It was her first orgasm in several days, since her last period, and her maiden juices flowed in such abundance they seeped out past the twitching lips of her pussy to soak the blonde bristles of her crotch.
Through it all Dee never for one single second ceased her ministrations, though when the raptures of her orgasm faded she discontinued the vigorous gobbling and commenced to suck Timmy's still hard prick with dainty expertise.
Timmy lay spread eagle on the bed, boggling at the ceiling, unsure precisely of what had happened, but wanting the sweet agony to happen again. And it would happen again. Soon. He could feel it beginning all over again. When at last he got his wits together enough to manage it, he raised up to prop himself on elbows, eyes riveted on his crotch.
Dee's head slowly, rhythmically, moved up and down a distance of some three inches. Her hot ripe lips formed a tight, soft circle that squirmed and tugged about Timmy's rigid prick, and on each up-stroke the lips stopped against the big collar of foreskin a moment for her gossamer tongue to massage and torment the head of his cock, then on each reverse stroke her lips slid tightly down the stiff spur of male meat until they encircled the very base of it, where they would have been buried in his pubic hair, providing he had possessed any pubic hair.
In the closet Cynthia got up off the floor and returned to her squatting position, her lovely young face the picture of self disgust and anger as she stared down at the vibrator with a fierce longing in her eyes. Just wait! She was determined to rid herself of the irksome burden of her maidenhead, and soon, or bust a gut! She looked out at her Aunt Dee and Timmy on the bed. Let 'em fuck, darn it! Let 'em fuck their heads off for all she cared. They weren't her problem. Her problem was getting out of the closet without being seen and beating it over to Julie's with the vibrator. Julie had gotten rid of her cherry with a boy she had dated during the final semester of school, and Julie would figure a way for her to get rid of her cherry, too. So there!
It occurred to Cynthia suddenly that escaping undetected was no problem at all. She merely had to walk out quietly and into the adjoining bedroom through the doorway her Uncle Van had used earlier. As preoccupied with sex as they were, her aunt and Timmy would not hear it if the roof caved in.
Putting her thoughts into action, a minute later Cynthia silently left the closet, the vibrator stuck down between the small nubbins of her breasts, and exited from the room with neither Dee or Timmy ever being aware of her presence, much less her departure.
Timothy Evers was aware of nothing else on the face of God's green earth except that the delicious agony was commencing again-with a rush.
Dee felt him start, recognized the symptoms and altered her sucking only by tightening the grip of her lips around his cock and increasing the speed of the up-down action of her head.
"Gah-gah-gah-hhaaaarrrrUGH!" Again Timmy bucked upward off the bed only to be met and pushed firmly back by Dee's palm.
Dee could not determine if the cum he jetted into her mouth with his second orgasm was more or less than before, but his desperate thrashing and flailing about was no less vigorous and emphatic. This time she did not allow herself to cum, tightening her insides in time to squeeze the orgasm back into nonexistence. She wanted to save her next cum for later, as she was teaching Timmy to suck her.
She continued her action on his prick without pause or hesitation until Timmy gradually simmered and ceased to babble at the ceiling. The room grew quiet-dusk was creeping into the room-save for the lad's labored breathing, and after giving his delicious little cock a final affectionate tug, Dee sat up, smiling happily.
"Like it?"
"I LIKE IT!"
Dee nodded, still smiling. Timmy was going to make a fine military man-his words exploded into the room and cannon-balled from wall to wall.
"Do you want more, Timmy?"
"Yes, Miss Manor. Oh yes, Miss Manor!"
"But it's my turn now," Dee grinned. "Now you're supposed to do me."
Very slowly the full import of her words dawned on Timmy, and a sort of breathless eagerness glowed on his face. "You mean-like you did to me, Miss Manor?"
"Do you mind?"
"Oh no. No, Miss Manor, but-" Suddenly he was crestfallen.
"But what, Timmy?" Dee waited, suspecting the cause of his discomfiture. He refused to meet her eyes in replying.
"I don't know how," he said miserably.
Dee laughed warmly and gave his erection a playful thump with a finger. "Then I'll teach you how. Would you like that?"
Timmy nodded so abruptly and with such enthusiasm his teeth clicked.
Dee scooted off the bed. "Then stay right where you are. I'll be back in a minute." Her trip to the bathroom was for the purpose of washing her vagina. It was sticky wet from her orgasm, and she was a mite apprehensive it might instinctively repulse Timmy during his initiation to cunnilingus.
Timmy was in the same position in which she had left him when she returned from the bathroom and crawled onto the bed.
"Miss Manor, do you know Roger Bruce and Milton Burack?"
Dee looked at him quickly. Roger Bruce and Milton Burack were two other hot-dicked cadets from the Academy she enjoyed herself with occasionally. Both were a bit older than Timmy; in their final year at the Academy. "Why, Timmy?"
"I-well, I've noticed they come over here sometimes."
"Have they been talking?" Dee cared not a wit if Rog and Milt told of their visits to her bedroom, though if Van got hold of it he might think of a way to cause her more trouble. It could easily strengthen his stubborness to retain control of her money until she was forty-if his stubborness needed any strengthening.
"Oh, no, Miss Manor. They have never mentioned anything about you. I was only curious. That's all."
"Are you going to tell what happened here today, Timmy?" Dee smiled.
Timmy looked startled. That she might think he would betray the confidence of the woman he desperately, madly, loved with all that intense blind passion only a fourteen-year-old is capable of shook him deeply.
"Miss Manor-no! Not ever! And General Spaatz says you're the most wonderful woman in the world. He says you're an angel."
To this Dee said nothing, but began piling pillows against the headboard of the bed. Only her pledged contribution to the Academy, her unwritten agreement with the old fart concerning cadets' visits to her bedroom and her bear Boffo could have inspired such a statement about her, or any woman, from General Spaatz. General Spaatz had no interest in the opposite sex. Nor in his own either, for that matter-as long as there was Boffo.
"Let's not talk about me, Timmy. Let's talk about us. Are you ready to do me?"
Again Timmy nodded with great enthusiasm. "Yes, Miss Manor-If you show me how."
Dee laughed excitedly. "I'll show you how." She swung around to recline in a half sitting position against the pile of pillows at the head of the bed, then spaced her legs out wide. "Now lie down between my legs on your stomach with your feet pointed toward the foot of the bed and-" She patted her pleasure mound, "-your head right here."
Timmy complied with an alacrity surprising, even for one of his youth and agility. "Like this, Miss Manor?" The point of his chin was an inch above the blonde thatch of her cunt. His face was cast in lines of vibrant expectancy. "Is this the way you mean?"
Dee squealed in delight. Timmy was so anxious; the little booger was so eager to get at her. "That's right, Timmy. Exactly." She folded her legs to bring a foot up on either side of his rib cage, and reached down to part the delicate pink folds of her cuntal mouth.
When the heady, innervating vapors of lust from her open cunt reached Timmy's nose, a sensation he could in no way identify pervaded him, and, with the instinctive atavism of the male animal, unconsciously hunched against the bed.
"Does it scare you, Timmy? Looking at it so close, I mean."
"No, Miss Manor." The boy's tone had taken on a different timbre. It was hoarse and choked with adolescent lust.
Dee let her thighs fall wider apart to keep her labia and clit exposed, and took Timmy's head in both hands. "Now stick out your tongue and keep it stiff, but let your neck go limber, sort of, so I can move your head around until you get the idea. See that little pointy peak there near the top?" Her eyes indicated her clitoris. "Yes, Miss Manor."
"That's my clitoris; with a woman it's the same as the penis is to a man. That's what I want you to suck. Ready?"
Timmy only nodded slightly as she eased his face downward into her open cunt, and Dee loosed a hot, desperate gasp as the pink, silken tip of his eager little tongue touched the sensitive, lust inflamed flesh of her steamy pussy.
CHAPTER FOUR
"OOOOOmmmmm-god-god-god," she sobbed at the ceiling, her lovely face a grimace of fiery passion. "I ca-can't stand it!"
With massive effort she struggled against the torrent of good sensations raging in her loins, wanting to prolong the act as long as possible. In a measure she was successful, though she knew full well the orgasm gathering its assault could not be restrained indefinitely. Still, she recovered to a point where she was able to enjoy the visual as well as the physical aspects of her pussy being sucked, which did much to enhance her delights.
She released Timmy's head, drew her legs up and placed the bottoms of her feet together between his shoulders, then relaxed all tension from her legs, the move letting her thighs fall wider apart and at the same time elevating her crotch to a degree where her entire vaginal area was within easy access of Timmy's tongue. Thus, propped against the pillows as she was, Dee could both see and feel the lad's endeavor, which was becoming more knowledgeable by the moment.
Timmy was not aware of this developing expertise, did not know latent atavistic instincts guided his lips and tongue as he commenced to expand on the delightful task before him. At first he lay exactly in the position he had taken to begin with, his pursed lips surrounding the tiny spur as Miss Manor had directed. Very gently his lips began to tug on the scented, buttery flesh. Then, though cautiously at first, he began to explore, and discovered that each expansion of his activities produced a greater reaction in Miss Manor's beautiful body.
To give himself a more comfortable position Timmy brought his arms up and under Dee's thighs and placed them flat on the spongy softness of her trembly tummy, Dee unconsciously nodding in approval. The little booger was a natural born cunnilingus artist. Without any additional instructions from her, he was proceeding as though his acquaintance with the art were of long standing. Ayeeeee-god! How sweet it was!
Gently she clasped his head between her hands and, gently also, began slowly moving it around and about, smearing his mouth over her pussy. It was during these maneuvers they made a discovery both surprising and delightful. This discovery was Timmy's tongue. Or rather, the length of it.
It had never before occurred to him that his tongue was exceptionally long and adroit. To him it had always seemed a very normal, ordinary tongue, and certainly Dee had no reason to think it anything exceptional. True, the boy was learning rapidly, far more rapidly than she would have thought possible, but....
And then the discovery. She curled her hips upward, which brought her spread vagina to an angle where her clit was clearly visible above Timmy's nose buried in her labia. Timmy, with no frame of reference to guide him, continued to proceed on instinct alone, and when he felt the upward turn of the steamy female sex-flesh against his face, he sent the softly furry surface of his tongue down through the sweltering little valley of her labium majora. The maneuver brought a harsh gasp of lust from Dee's lips. Then the tip of his tongue curled down into her vaginal opening to hook on the primary projection of her pelvis bone.
Dee gave a startled double-take in the direction of her crotch, held her breath as the tongue's tip probed in dainty exploration the small aperture of her urethra. Merciful heavens! What was this?
Would sweet wonders never cease? Already Timmy displayed an inherent knowledge of the more delectable facets of cunnilingus, and now ... She continued to lie motionless, senses suspended in breathless wonder as the tongue's tip finished its investigation of her urethra, then withdrew to explore the other sensitive flesh of her vaginal opening.
Timothy Bancroft Evers was totally unaware of the sensations he was creating in the lovely creature whose pussy he so diligently sucked. He had no notion that already his tongue had entered her body to a depth no tongue in her not inconsiderable experience had ever attained before. In fact, the lad was aware of very little outside the cozy pink heaven of rapture he existed in at the moment, a rapture gradually increasing in direct proportion to the raptures he sensed building in the recipient of his ministrations.
"OOOOOmmm-god-god-god," Dee moaned softly in an agony of lust, releasing Timmy's head once more-the lad needed no further guidance from her-and lay with her head at an angle, watching him suck on her pussy.
Dee was in no way prepared for Timmy's next move simply because the possibility of such happening had never entered her wildest erotic fantasies. She felt the tongue return to her urethra, felt it once more pause in tender inquiry, and expected it to withdraw again, as before, but this time it did not. Her crystal clear blue eyes flew wide in joyous dismay. It couldn't happen! Such was not possible! Yet she knew it was possible for she felt it happening, felt the full thickness of the boy's tongue follow its tip into her vagina and slowly, cautiously, commence to squirm deeper into her vaginal passage in the direction of her cervix. A second later the tip of the tongue was searching tentatively about the opening of her cervix as before it had searched her urethra.
At once Timmy began to work his tongue in measured, squirming rhythms, slowly slithering the furry-silken length of it back and forth into the steamy, scented flesh of her pussy.
Dee clutched desperately at the bed, seized handfuls of the cover and gnashed small pearly teeth against the bludgeoning sensations. All thought of forestalling her orgasm vanished, and in one split second of sanity before the orgasm struck, she caused all tension to flow from her body, relaxed utterly in submissive acceptance of the thundering holocaust.
Due to his inexperience with sex in general and with the opposite sex in particular, Timmy had no certain knowledge of what was taking place with Dee, yet the same atavistic instincts which had thus far been his mentor informed him the culmination of his ministrations was about to bear fruit and, instinctively again, he changed the action of his tongue from its measured rhythm to a rapid-fire cadence, darting it in lightening-like slithers back and forth into Miss Manor's pussy, squirming the tongue vigorously during each in-out cycle.
Suddenly a full-bodied, gusty sob of release wrenched itself from Dee's trembly lips and an orgasm of a force and intensity she could never have imagined was upon her. It did not arrive with any appreciable degree of gradation. It exploded. One instant she lay relaxed on the bed, the next a silent sex-bomb exploded in her loins with staggering violence.
Without realizing he did so, Timmy tightened his grip around her spread thighs, pressed his young face firmly against her vagina and shivered in exultation when the powerful muscles of Dee's inner-cunt spasmed viciously around his slithering, squirming tongue. The shiver repeated itself when incoherent babblings burst from Dee's lips, and he raised his eyes, peering upward at her face through the golden-crinkly pubic mass underscoring her satiny, convulsing belly.
At the moment Dee's mouth was wide in a silent shriek of ecstasy, her blue eyes bulged alarmingly and pounding veins corded her neck. As Timmy watched she pawed the empty air with both hands, then her heels commenced to drum a ragged tattoo on his shoulders and back as she chewed her tongue in a fit of mindless rapture. Once more her inner-cunt muscles clamped down around his ensconced tongue in a sheath of liquid fire while helpless, desperate sobs of raw animal lust sprang from her lips as the orgasm swirled into the apex of its attack and triggering her symphysis pubis ducts to disgorge copious amounts of lymphatic fluids. They flushed hotly in creamy wealth around Timmy's imprisoned tongue, but he held his position until the seizure gradually grew less convulsive and, at last, ceased altogether.
For a long minute Dee remained motionless, looking at the boy in wonder, not trying to conceal her satisfaction and pleasure. Timmy Evers had just treated her to the most soul-jarring cunnilingus orgasm of her life. She reached down, caressed his face fondly and drew her thighs together, hugging his head tightly between them in delicious aftermath, then quivered uncontrollably all over as he slowly dragged the full length of his magnificient tongue out of her twitching pussy.
"Did I do it right, Miss Manor?" he inquired eagerly, anxious to have pleased.
Dee sighed blissfully. "You were perfect, Timmy. Absolutely perfect. Shall we go wash up a bit. Then we'll do something else." She did not want to embarrass the lad by asking if he knew how to couple conventionally with a woman. Obviously he did not. She stretched voluptuously in getting off the bed, her lower belly and general vaginal area still wonderously atingle from the massive organ.
They showered together, were in the midst of it when sight of Timmy's rigid, hugely fore-skinned little pecker jutting upward brought that old familiar hunger to her throat. She could not resist.
Timmy barked in surprise and braced himself back against the wall as she knelt under the spray and gave him a quickie blow, grabbing his immature cock between feverish lips and sucking with a voracious hunger that literally jerked the lad's orgasm into reality. A breathless serenity seeped through Dee's naked body from the sharp, keen bolts of cum fired from his balls into her greedy mouth, struck her esophagus and trickled down her gullet.
"Is that what you meant when you said we'd do something else, Miss Manor?" Timmy asked as they dried off.
"No, Timmy," she replied, pecking his chin with her lips-if ever there had been pure unadulterated reverence and worship of her in a youngster's eyes, it was in Timmy Evers' at that moment. "What we're going to do now is usually thought of as the conventional sex act. It's called fucking. Come lie down on top of me. I'll show you."
Considering his almost instant expertise at cunnilingus, Timmy's adaptation to this particular sex form was somewhat less rapid than Dee expected. Even so, she gloried in each second-Timmy kept cuming so frequently; the precious little dickens, that he had no time to master the more subtle points of fucking.
Once again Dee adopted the role of teacher, and due to the immense gratification derived from the blow-job he had administered unto her, in no urgent need of cuming again so soon. Thus she held her emotions in abeyance. The exact opposite was true in Timmy's case.
When they returned to the bed he crawled over between her thighs as directed, then quivered in lust as the soft thighs came up to clasp his waist and snug their bodies together.
"Just be still and I'll put him in for us," she whispered. Timmy started, grunted, at the dainty touch of soft fingers on his throbbing penis.
"Now ease your hips toward me a bit," Dee continued. "Does your foreskin stay back by itself. Will it stay back while we fuck?" Before the lad could answer she took the end of his pecker lightly between thumb and forefinger and rolled the prepuce into a thick collar back of the glans. She smiled, wrinkling her nose impishly up at Timmy through the smile, satisfied that the foreskin would remain in place.
Timmy started again, violently this time, when the supersensitive flesh of his naked glans came into direct contact with the torrid flesh of her pussy.
"Mi-Miss Manor!" he gasped wildly.
Again Dee smiled, placing her hands on his hips and elevated her thighs to hold them loosely in order to give the boy freedom of movement. But it became clear to her at once that Timmy was in no way certain as to which movements he should make, and that his talent in mastering cunnilingus did not extend to straight-out fucking. She removed her hands from his hips and cupped them down around the bevels of his young buttocks.
"Now push forward a bit, dear," she whispered. "Nudge him into me."
Timmy's countenance twisted into a mask of overpowering adolescent lust as he wriggled his prick into her vagina, then whined thinly and commenced panting like an exhausted race hound. For a brief moment Dee regarded him intently before realizing the lad was cuming like a spastic fire house. Oddly his explosive climax and uncontrollable emotions roused in Dee strong maternal instincts and when she felt his sparse cum jetting into her vagina, she drew the struggling boy down close to her, cuddling the plains and bevels of their bodies snug as possible as she angled her straddle upward to get the last tiny fraction of his member inside her. When the disgorging penis penetrated until nothing remained outside but his hairless balls, she began a gentle milking action with her snapping pussy, its strong, circular inner-muscles munching in tender passion-Dee was determined to make this delicious little booger's first fuck an experience he would never forget. The decision interfered with her own desires in no way. The blow-job Timmy had given her, and the stunning orgasm resulting therefrom, had for the moment taken care of her sexual need, which permitted her to concentrate her efforts in his behalf. Nevertheless, the decision was somewhat unnecessary, for by the time she reached it, Timmy was cuming again, the spasm serving to intensify her maternal affections and to enhance and magnify the blissful serenity she had experienced while sucking him in the bathroom.
"Relax down against me, dear," she whispered. "Don't be so tense. Just go limp, sort of; only keep pressing him into me so he won't slip out, and let me do the work."
Dazed by the rapid succession of his orgasms, Timmy obeyed before she finished speaking, and Dee nuzzled their mouth together, vacuumed an exceptional length of his extraordinary tongue into hers and lay there beneath him sucking on it in gently tugs as her inner-cunt muscles stepped up their activity, their vigorous munching-squeezing action milking sweetly on his throbbing pecker.
Timothy Bancroft Evans blew his mind-literally. His senses shattered. The gentle sucking of his tongue, the tender massaging of his prick uncorked him, hurled him into a raging morass of fiery orgastic sensations that blasted his contact with reality and stupefied his mind until he was conscious of nothing save each violent, explosive cum followed swiftly on the heels of the one preceding. In years to come he was to look back on the experience in moments of fond reflection, recalling it wistfully as the most fantastic fuck of his lifetime.
Dee continued sucking and milking on the boy for the better part of half an hour, during which time the youngster with the penis in her vagina became virtually a dead weight, the fierce orgastic convulsions wracking his young body seldom diminishing noticeably, never altogether. Semen had long since ceased to ejaculate into her pussy, yet the convulsions continued to repeat themselves over and over despite it. Near the end of this half hour she relented to the demands it had created in her flesh and cuddled Timmy very close, laying very still as the staggering impact of another massive cum flushed in delicious agony through her slender frame.
Timmy's eyes were glazed and out of focus with total sexual satiation when he sluggishly dismounted at her suggestion and collapsed to the bed beside her. Dee sat up smiling wistfully and stroked his body in deep affection, hushed, tremulous sighs of contentment breaking from her lips. The little booger had the staying power of a natural born master-stud.
"It's getting late, lover," she whispered against his cheek. "Taps will be blowing soon, and you don't want to miss bed-check." Actually, and as long as the students from the Academy were with her, General Spaatz cared not a hoot if they remained all night, but unless the occasion was something special, such as her birthday party day after tomorrow, she always tried to get them back according to Academy rules and regulations.
Dee helped Timmy dress-the boy was simply not capable of dressing himself, but stood in the middle of the floor weaving precariously, a stupid grin on his young face, while Dee managed to get him back into his uniform. Then she led him downstairs into the rumpus room so he could cross to the Academy over the back lawn. In his condition it was entirely possible to wander into the path of a moving automobile by returning along the street fronting the Academy and her estate.
CHAPTER FIVE
Dee slept naked, as was her habit, and did not awaken the following morning until the sun appraoched the noon hour. Somewhere far in the rear of the house she heard faint sounds of Sarah Dow, her housekeeper-maid, moving about, and remembering she had left a note on the spindle in the kitchen for Sarah to take care of the refreshments for her birthday party tomorrow night. Dee stretched long and luxuriously, a tiny smile tilting the corners of her lush mouth. She had no time to attend to refreshments for the party. Refreshments were superfluous from her point of view, though the youngsters might appreciate them-the only persons attending the party would be Timmy and two other boys from the Academy-and all she meant to do was fuck.
At the recollection of Timmy and her boudoir session with him the day before, Dee was immediately smitten by remorse and guilt. The feeling had almost become an emotional custom following a sex-bout with one of the students from Spaatz's Military Academy, but a feeling she had learned to manage and dispel by rationalizing that if she hadn't seduced Timmy, or the others before him, some other female would have. Dee preferred to think the experience had been not only enjoyable for the youngsters, but educational as well-she never allowed anything to take place during one of these sessions that might cause the youngsters traumatic backlash. For instance, she knew from experience the boys were in the beginning prone to be adverse toward analingus. For this reason she never had one of them bugger her during his first visit to her bedroom. Taking her in the rear was something she always tried to approach gradually in order to overcome any reluctance or repugnance. Dee's guilty conscience and feelings of remorse over seducing Timmy Evers were not long lasting, and disappeared completely when she recalled the virginal tang and aroma of the lad's delicious genitals.
As with sleeping naked, it was also Dee's custom to partake of a sexual orgasm each morning soon after awakening. Over a period of the last couple of years the practice had, in reality, grown from a custom into an addiction, abstinence of which tended to leave her a bit edgy and, sometimes, quite irritable. Therefore, knowing this, it was her wont to attend to the matter as quickly as possible after arising, though not to simply get it over with and behind her for the day. She enjoyed it immensely, and this despite the fact that the orgasm was stimulated into being by a most unconventional way, its delights enhanced by none of those tender endearments and similar affectionate embellishments present during her erotic frolics with, for instance, one of the youngsters from the Academy. Her wake-up cum, as she had grown to think of it privately, had no delightful after-kissing or-fondling, no drowsy aftermath dissipating gradually into sleep or another coupling; it had nothing but raw, physical sex. She got down into position, got swiftly, brutally fucked wherein, usually, she cummed like an earthquake, then got up and took a douche. It was that uncomplicated. And Dee loved the direct, straight-forward simplicity of the routine, a routine for which her great shaggy Boffo had been specially trained.
The bear was the gift of Ralph Green way, the first man Dee had ever permitted to screw her in the rectum. At the time, analingus was the one sex-form she had never encountered directly, and due to her ignorance and lack of experience with it, viewed the form with a certain amount of understandable caution, and had submitted somewhat hesitantly out of sympathy for Ralph's insistent pleading rather than from any other reason. Then came revelation!
While the act was in progress Dee had made a theretofore unimaginable discovery; Ralph's rigid member pistoning into her anus had stimulated her to vigorous, prolonged orgasm. Ever since, she had been a staunch advocate of the practice. Nevertheless, on the day following the one in which Ralph first buggered her, she had teased him playfully by complaining of a certain rectal soreness and sensitivity and he, knowing of her fondness for animals and by way of amendatory apology, had dashed out to return with a cuddly ball of brown fluff which she had named Boffo.
Boffo was not of the ferocious grizzly bear strain, nor yet that of the temperamental, unpredictable black bear, but of the gentle, amenable brown bear variety and one Dee had personally trained with meticulous care from infanthood to handle the daily morning chore of her wake-up cum. Boffo had taken to the training well, the days of his infanthood long past. Today he was a huge, powerful beast that towered eight feet on hind legs-but a beast Dee could control with no more than a quiet word or a nod of her head. Her friends never ceased to be amazed at the bear's intelligence and obedience, and at times it seemed indeed as if the animal knew and understands the English language; on occasion it appeared as though he were struggling with his bear vocal organs in effort to speak. None of Dee's friends, no living creature except Boffo and herself knew of their relationship.
But Brother Van seems to suspect it, Dee thought moodily.
Boffo's genitals had always fascinated her. She had trained him to take care of her wake-up cum with her in either one of two positions, both of which required of the animal nothing more in establishing the coupling, at which he was extremely adept, than that he walk into place and start hunching. In the first position Dee merely got on hands and knees and the bear moved over her from behind, high enough on four feet that his weight was never a problem. The second position was Dee's favorite, and Boffo's too, she suspected. The position was precisely the one she assumed on her back in preparation to being mounted by a man, except that with Boffo she lay on a two-by-five-foot table with six-inch legs. The table had been built especially for the purpose and raised her up to within comfortable reach of the bear. It was in this position that Boffo's genitals made the difference.
At three years of age his hair-covered scrotum was the size of a full grown cantelope, and his penis very nearly as large as her brother Van's, though with a very marked departure in shape from the male Homo Sapiens' penis. Shortly after receiving Boffo as a gift she had discovered that the male bear's penis, when hard, was exactly the shape of a series of eggs rigidly connected end to end, or a series of fat, bulbous joints, the terminal joint descending abruptly to a keen point that never became hard. And when in the heat of passion Boffo pistoned this stiff series of fat bulbs back and forth in her vagina, with his enormous testicles in their great, fur-coated scrotum jouncing rhythmically in the cleavage of her spread buttocks, well, Miss Delores Ruth Manor quite frequently blew her cotton-pic kin' mind. And when Boffo cum-lordy! It was like a hot water main bursting inside her.
She had never investigated the matter, but she suspected a bear's basal metabolism rate, and therefore its normal body temperature, was much higher than that of human beings, for on many occasions when Boffo's hard penis came thrusting out from its elongated fleshy housing along his belly she had noticed thin wisps of vapor rising from it. And this at room temperature! Moreover, on initial contact between his prick and her vagina, the prick was so hot it almost burned her-and when it burned the hottest were the times when the violence and longevity of her wake-up cum left her dazed and groggy many minutes thereafter. Boffo-always came first, with her joining him before he finished or following promptly thereafter. Then, at a word from her, the bear would dismount and that was that. It was always thus, except for that time she had tried to out-fuck the beast, a time not long after Boffo reached maturity and at a time when she had no concept of a bear's staying power. She had never blamed Boffo for what happened. It was in no way the great shaggy animal's fault. The fault was hers alone.
After their first cum she had not directed the bear to dismount, but to continue. After repeating the procedure twice Boffo got the idea and from then on neither paused nor hesitated from one orgasm to the next until they reached a stage where she lay limp and whimpering on the low table, a continuously orgasming mass of quivering female flesh too weak to order him to stop. Boffo had very nearly fucked her out of her mind that day-she was certain she had lost three or four pounds of actual weight during the wonderful ordeal-and for the remainder of the week had stumbled idiotically about the house bumping into things.
It was after this that she had contacted the city's foremost animal specialist and arranged for the veterinarian to give the animal regular monthly check-ups and advise her on his care and feeding, all in the hope the bear would not change, not ever, from the perpetual-motion fucking machine she had discovered him to be. It was also shortly after he fucked her silly that her wake-up cum became a daily routine.
It was not because she found these sexual escapades with an animal more gratifying than with a man, or that she preferred sex with Boffo to sex with one of her own kind. Take her encounter with Timmy Evers yesterday. No sexual experience she might imagine could surpass the delights derived from that. Actually, any lusty male might have served just as well as Boffo for her wake-up cum, though sex with Boffo somewhat appeased her normal appetite for sexual variety, and certainly the raw, primitive lust which characterized their couplings was gratifying physically, but she knew it was impossible to achieve what she privately thought of as spiritual orgasm with Boffo or any other such animal.
In fact, she had never achieved a spiritual orgasm with any other person or thing except her brother, and this only once and many months ago, and she achieved it solely by way of a wet dream. The experience, dream though it had been, disturbed her deeply until, at long last, she had forced the incident into the back of her mind.
But as for fucking Boffo, well, she had discovered that a good, thoroughly satisfying orgasm each morning, an orgasm brought on for no other reason than the physical pleasures afforded by the orgasm itself, set her head on straight for the day, as it were, and gave her a much clearer view of life in general.
Dee could still hear the subdued sounds of Sarah Dow moping around in the rear of the house when she got off the bed and tossed a housecoat from the closet about her nude body. Seconds later she tripped silently down a narrow, rarely used back stairway to Boffo's living quarters adjacent to the rumpus room. She had no fears the maid might chance upon her and the bear. Sarah knew never to venture down into the rumpus room without express permission.
Boffo was never confined to his quarters except during visits from Walter Harris, who became nervous around the animal, or when friends not acquainted with the animal came by. Usually he was given the run of the house and grounds after their morning encounter.
"Good morning, momma's big woolly baby," Dee called gaily in her customary greeting to the bear as she crossed the rumpus room to his quarters. "Is Woolly Baby ready for momma this morning?"
Boffo was ready. He reared up to stand on hind feet, the bright pink out-thrust of his oddly shaped penis in sharp contrast to the nutmeg brown of his fur. Dee flushed hotly at sight of the beast's sex organ, her face grew full and loose. Her wake-up cum had grown into a habit of such dire necessity the prospects of gratifying it had her cunt in a lather.
"Come, Woolly Baby," she whispered in feverish haste, tossing aside the housecoat and going to her back on the low table just inside the door of the bear's living area. "Come give momma her wake-up cum." Then, as the bear dropped back to four feet and ambled quickly to her: "Up, Boffo. Get into momma. Up. Up quickly!"
As Dee lifted her knees and swung wide her legs, Boffo walked into the yoke of her thighs, the animal no less eager than she. Dee gave a brief, searching flourish of her hips, but the flaccid point of Boffo's penis unerringly found the mark, and there came the soundless thump-thump-thump sensation of the fat, bulbous, egg-shaped sections of his fiercely hot prick thrusting without preamble into her belly, and with each successive 'thump' Dee whimpered sharply in passionate fervor.
"Deeper, Woolly Baby," she whined in trembly lust. "Deeper into momma."
These instructions were unnecessary. After his initial thrust Boffo moved forward above her several inches like the well-trained bear he was, rammed the remaining portion of his cock into her body and instantly began to hunch vigorously.
"Aahhhhhhh." The deep sigh of lustful abandon came from Dee's throat and her golden head sagged to the side limply, mind blank to all things except this moment of rutting, blue eyes filming over with passion. She widened the yoke of her thighs and readjusted her hips into a position which caused Boffo's furry, melon-sized scrotum and balls to jiggle in the cleavage of her buttocks in unison with his rapid hunching, and at time, during an occasional deeper hunch, to smite a gentle but solid blow to her unprotected anus, which sent tiny wavelets of erotic shock flashing through her slender body.
"Aahhhhhhh." Again the sounds of lustful abandon drifted out over the rumpus room, the rapid-fire succession of 'thumps' from Boffo's vigorous prick vibrating through her vaginal area, swiftly arousing the orgasm already lying there in waiting. "Ayeeeeeeee," she whispered raggedly. "Cum quickly into momma, Woolly Baby. Cum quickly else momma cums first. Cum quickly into mommaaaaaaaahhhh."
Dee had scarcely finished utterance of these words before the pre-orgasm with which she had become so familiar rumbled from Boffo's chest. At the growl, her own orgasm poised to strike. A split second later thick gashes of scalding liquid that was Boffo's spending semen erupted deep in her belly.
Dee's teeth came together with a distinct, audible click, the poised orgasm in her loins responding brutally to the deluge of animal cum, and her clear blue eyes rolled back in her head while the pink flush of her complexion deepened to a dull crimson; her orgasm charged wildly. A quick succession of despairing gasps caught in her throat as her creamy maiden fluids mingled with the yang of the grunting, growling animal fucking into her, and she screamed a quavering, off-key scream of spasming female passion. Then she flung both arms and legs upward, seized the bear with all her strength and pulled herself up tight against his furry balls, the lightening thumpings from his frenzied hunches battering the mouth of her womb with sweet pain.
Dimly, through a flickering haze of lust fantasies, Dee remembered she wanted nothing more than the routine wake-up cum from Boffo this morning, and patted his shoulder smartly as the signal to stop.
"That's enough for this time, Woolly Baby." She sighed happily. A fuck from Boffo was actually nothing more than a brute fucking from an animal, yet in all the world there was not another fuck exactly like it. One thing for certain, it was fast. A quickie in the purest sense of the word. She braced herself for his withdrawal. And for the after effects, which was something which had always amazed and fascinated her. To contain all his cum, Woolly Baby must have a prostate gland as big as a large salami.
Boffo obediently severed their coupling and retreated meekly several steps to squat on his haunches, watching his mistress. Dee squeezed her vulva sphincter as tight as she possibly could, knowing at the time it would do little good, and scrambled hastily to her feet. But it was no use. Never yet had she succeeded in reaching the large bathroom at the far end of the rumpus room following a bout with Boffo, and there was little point in expecting she would secceed this time. And she honestly didn't mind. Not really. That was the way life was.
Nevertheless, as with each previous time, she tried for the bathroom. And she failed. At the entrance of Boffo's living area she stopped and stood there with legs wide spread, bending slightly forward at the waist, watching in silent absorption as her pussy spasmed in regurgitation and enormous gray masses of the bear's recent discharge surged through the golden crinkle of cunt hairs and dropped to the floor with a faint splat.
Then the final remains of the load came into view and oozed in twin streams down the insides of her thighs.
"You big-old mean-old naughty and wonderful Woolly Baby," she chided the animal playfully minutes later after removing all the evidence. Then with an affectionate ruffling of the fur on his head and a final pat, she returned to her bedroom, a leisurely shower, a meticulous douche and idle speculations regarding her plans for the day, realizing as she dried her golden body after the bath she had no such plans.
When she returned from breakfast to her bedroom an hour and a half later, she still had no plans for the day.
This lack of plans did not apply to another member of the Manor family; Cynthia Manor, Dee and Van's thirteen-year-old niece, had plans for the day, the same plans so fiercely harbored in her young breast since the afternoon before while crouched in the closet of her aunt's bedroom watching Aunt Dee introduce Timmy Evers to the erotic delights of boudoir acrobatics. Cynthia still had the vibrator, and was still doggedly determined to rid herself of the disgusting curse of her virginity.
When she had gone to visit Julie the afternoon before in hopes her friend could some way help her
'bust her cherry,' she had been disappointed. Julie had not been home and Cynthia, with hopes of sneaking back into the closet and resuming her observations, had returned home late, found Timmy gone and Aunt Dee sound asleep.
In caustic chagrin with life in general, Cynthia had gone to her room where she had largely tossed and turned in an erotic fever most of the night, falling to sleep just before dawn. She woke at noon feeling as though she had been drugged, but her sluggishness vanished in face of youthful exuberance when she suddenly realized that only she held the answer to her infuriating dilemma. Her hazel eyes snapped excitedly in resolve, and with a forthrightness characteristic of Cynthia Manor, she attacked the problem without delay by taking a small tube of Vaseline from the medicine of her bathroom, then removing all her garments. Fud! What did she need with Julie? Cherries got busted every day; bicycle riding, horse-back riding-numerous ways without a man. She knew! She'd heard older girls talk. One girl had even done herself with a wax candle. A man would be better, of course, but she simply couldn't broach the subject to Walter. He knew she was only thirteen, but to discover her a virgin also, a virgin with a contemptible, hairless pussy to boot, why, he'd spurn her. Besides, when and if she managed to get Walter alone in the right place, she wanted herself ready to be fucked, not hassle him with some lousy damn maidenhead!
Cynthia applied a generous amount of the Vaseline over the mechanical penis she'd swiped from her aunt's bedroom the day before, cocked one leg on a chair and smeared a large glob of the jelly through the sensitive cleft of her naked pussy. Then she was ready. For a minute or so she stood facing her reflection in the mirror of her dressing table, traveling critical eyes over the various points of her nude body.
If the rest of her were as attractive as her face it would be a different story, she decided. She was pretty. She knew this. Boys never let her forget it. But the boys were always so-so infantile! So immature! Like that bumbling oaf Timmy Evers. With clothes on it was easy for a knowledgeable woman such as herself to dress as if her body were more filled out, sensuous and desirable than it actually was, but....
She continued to regard herself in the mirror, and with a growing sense of helplessness. Her tits were too flat, goddamnit! She ground her teeth in silent fury at sight of them. They were no bigger than halves of a small orange, hardly a handful. And her hips were bony, her knees knobby and she was skinny all over. She was positively emaciated! Tears of despair came into her eyes as she unconsciously compared her figure with the ripe, willowy grace and voluptuous of her ravishing Aunt Dee. The tears grew. All she wanted was to be desirable in Walter's eyes. It made no difference that her burning heart's desire was nineteen years her senior, she wanted to submit her charms to his lustful hungers like it said in her sex novels-but what fuckin' charms did a flat-chested, bony hipped, knock-kneed starvation scrawny girl have to offer?
"Tell me, stupid!" she demanded angrily of her reflection in the mirror. "Huh? What charms?"
Two great tears brimmed over in her hazel eyes and coursed down her fair cheeks. She dashed them aside furiously with the back of a hand, looking at her reflection in a disgust that bordered on loathing.
Unknown to Cynthia, she was committing a grave error against herself in assuming others would judge her physical attributes as she saw them. Could she have seen herself through the eyes of any male with procreative instincts to support a hard-on, her tearful despair would have become giddy joy.
She was young, yes, and by some standards might have been considered immature, and while her breasts were like halves or small oranges, they were plump, satiny smooth, pink crowned little oranges, and if not a big handful, certainly they were a big mouthful. Her complexion, all over, was creamy textured and flawless, and around her hips and upper thighs there yet remained enough of the pre-puberty baby fat of a mold that could easily drive a man from his senses. All in all, she presented the portrait of an eager little naked, nubile nymphette, succulent and juicy. In short, the wildest sex fantasies of a starving hard-on's dream come true.
Nevertheless, Cynthia did not see herself thus, and because of it proceeded about the business of divesting herself of the curse of virginity with grim and heavy heart. Her method of procedure was simplicity itself. She placed the base of the lubricated vibrator on the edge of an easy chair, hovered over the rounded bullet nose of the instrument a moment until the gossamer lips of her pussy found it, centered the nose against the lubricated opening of her vagina, gritted her teeth, clinched her eyes, took a deep breath and simply sat down-then gasped at herself in the mirror in ludicrous babblement so profound she hardly noticed the tiny fleeting acid sting of pain as the vibrator slid smoothly a depth of several inches up into her body. She continued to gape until she recovered from the surprise, then slowly lowered her squirming hips to a point where the vibrator was no longer visible in the mirror. Next, holding the instrument in one place with one hand to prevent its falling out, she hobbled wide-legged across the room and flung herself onto the bed with a joyous squeal, switched the vibrator on and clutched wildly at the bed as deep, resonant vibrations in her vagina swiftly flushed an orgasm to the fore in her young loins.
CHAPTER SIX
While Cynthia was thus occupied, her Aunt Dee was much less delightfully involved in the mundane chore of deciding in what manner she would pass the remainder of the day ahead.
Dee glanced at her watch as she sat on the side of the bed; the watch was the only thing she wore except the housecoat she had gone to breakfast in. Already the hands of the watch told her it was nearing mid-afternoon. She was tempted to return downstairs for another round with Boffo-she could use another vigorous fucking right now-but the notion faded as she recalled the heady flavor of young Timmy Ever's genitals the day before. Perhaps she should call Timmy at the Academy and ask him to come over. Or ask Roger Bruce. Or Milton Burack. Or perhaps she should summon all three boys and have a balling orgy! But if she did it might impair the zest of her birthday party tomorrow, when she meant to enjoy all three boys together at the same time. then she thought of Van, her brother, and the problem he poised with his threat to retain control of her share of their inheritance. Van's strange behavior of late baffled her. They had always been much closer than brothers and sisters usually were, but his inordinate stubborness-she could understand no cause for it. Unless that cause was as she had suspected all along; that Van's peculiar conduct was brought on by suppressed yearnings to couple with his sister. Such yearnings might cause any man to behave strangely.
Again, but this time with no passing twinge of guilt, Dee recalled the wet dream wherein she and her brother coupled blissfully in an all-giving, all-consumming intimacy so intense and real, of such depth and passion the usual physical aspects faded into the background before a compatible reciprocation she had never been able to define other than spiritual orgasm. She wondered if she subconsciously harbored a love, for her brother which had nothing to do with sisterly affection. She brushed these speculations aside with a rueful little smile. Was she not supposed to be falling in love with Walter Haris? She wondered.
A stream of sunlight pouring through the peaked Gothic window of the room drenched the side of the bed where she sat, and idly Dee flicked open the house coat to look down at the golden crinkles of the pussy snugged warmly at the top of her thighs, a dreamy, drowsy smile stealing over her beautiful face. Life, she mused drowsily, is sex, and sex is life, and they're both wonderful.
And then, completely unexpectedly, for no apparent reason, she lay back on the bed and went sound asleep.
Late afternoon sunlight streamed through the Gothic window when she awakened. Some time during the nap she had turned on her side and she awakened quietly, as was her habit, her only indication of awareness the opening of her blue eyes. When she did this, resting on her side as she was, a small tremor of indeterminate orgin coursed through her, for the first thing her blue eyes focused on was a set of the most enormous male genitals she had ever seen in her entire life. Quickly she sat upright.
"Uh-Van! Wh-what are you doing here?"
Her brother stood there completely naked, handsome face revealing nothing of his thoughts.
"Wh-what are you doing here, Van?" Dee repeated hesitantly, staring upward, not certain of her emotions. Except a certain warm gladness in her breast....
"I've come to prove you wrong," Van replied, much too casually. "I've come to prove I do have enough grit to walk up to you and say: 'Come on, Sis. Let's fuck!"
"Is-is that what you're saying?" Dee struggled to keep her eyes diverted from the magnificently hard cock and great balls. With her sitting up, her brother's genitals were easily within reach. In fact, Van stood so near the bed she could have leaned forward and kissed them. The small tremor that had touched her on awakening repeated itself as she dropped her gaze and permitted her eyes to linger on the blunt nub of his penis, the glans itself shielded from view by the great, thick snout of rubbery foreskin which protruded an inch and a half or more beyond the end of the penis itself. That old familiar craving-which had once made her visit a psychiatrist, thinking her fascination for male genitalia was a psychically detrimental compulsive fixation-blossomed swiftly in her with an intensity that caused her throat to ache hungrily. She managed to lift her eyes to meet her brother's and repeated the question: "Is that what you're saying to me now, Van: 'Come on, Sis, let's fuck?!"
Van Manor did not reply immediately, but stood looking sternly down at the ravishing golden goddess that was his sister. Since leaving her yesterday following his infantile spate of churlishness, he had spent torturous hours in combat with his tumultuous emotions, and had arrived at a state bordering peace of mind only after he agreed with himself to face the issue squarely: Did he or did he not want to fuck his sister? The question was superfluous and he knew it. The answer was yes, had been yes for years, but in admitting to himself the existence of his fierce yearnings in this incestuous direction allowed him to view the possibility of coupling with Dee in an entirely different light. Suddenly an incestuous relationship with his sister no longer held the unwholesome stigma a depraved society was wont to place on such. With this rationalization he discovered to his immense surprise his frustrations and indecision regarding the matter dissipated rapidly, leaving him with but one conclusion: He would attempt at such a relationship with his sister, but without the use of lies or threats or deceptions regarding their inheritance; without subterfuge of any kind, and would engage in such a relationship only if Dee were in wholehearted agreement with it. Amen, he thought as he went to his haunches beside the bed and took Dee's hand in his.
"Yes, baby sister," he told her gently. "That's what I'm saying-Come on, Sis, Let's fuck. That puts it crudely, but it gets the idea across. Except-"
"Except what, Van?" Dee cut in quickly, a touch of biting sarcasm in her tone. The rich, heady odor of mature male genitals, and the great fleshy cannon angling at her due to his squatting position, were beginning to make her senses reel. "Except that if I don't do as you ask you'll never sign those papers relinquishing control of my money?"
"No, baby sister," Van replied, still gently and holding her eyes with his. "Except that if we get in bed together we do so on your terms."
Dee frowned, knowing she misunderstood.
"No, Sis, you heard correctly," Van continued. "On your own terms. On yours alone."
"And what of my inheritance?" she demanded archly to conceal her dismay.
Van shrugged lightly. "It's yours. Do with it as you will." He gave an apologetic grin. "You see, I lied to you yesterday. I followed Walter Harris' suggestion that I sign-the papers as a birthday present to you-I signed them in Walter's office day before yesterday."
"But-but-"
"I know. I know. I acted like a pure-bred cad yesterday when I came here. Mark it up to childish frustrations and immaturity, can you?"
"And-" Dee took a deep, joyous breath. "And you didn't come here to bargain with me about-?"
"Nope. To ask. To plead if necessary, and if you say no I'll never mention the subject again. I want you, baby sister, but not on a barter basis." Separately he kissed the tip of each finger he held. "So I'm pleading."
Dee gave her brother a long steady look, not conscious of any effort in making the decision-without her knowledge her subconscious self had made the decision years ago; she merely accepted. And with this acceptance passed any reluctance or inhibitions she theretofore consciously harbored regarding a brother-sister sexual relationship, and concern over whatever a prudish, sick society might place on such. Mother Eve had been far more closely related by blood ties to Adam than any woman since could be to her brother, Dee told herself. So let society go fuck itself.
Dee stifled a girlish giggle of happiness and leaned forward to peck her brother affectionately on the nose with her lips. "All right," she said. "What say we begin discovering each other the way you wanted to yesterday?"
For the moment forgetting, Van looked a question.
Again Dee pecked his nose, whispered throatily: "You wanted me to suck your peter, remember?" Her eyes found her brother's enormous sex organs as Van got to his feet. Strange, she thought. Strange indeed. Yesterday was the first day she had seen her brother's genitals since their nude frolic in the pool when she was thirteen, and of course the genitals had grown considerably since then-but yesterday she had not perceived they were so godawful huge! Yesterday Van had stood across the room, of course, and possibly the lighting had been responsible for her misconception; she could think of no other explanation. Obviously the whispered stories about Van among some of her girlfriends were all too true. My god, what a cock!
Dee shivered in restrained ecstasy as Van stretched out atop the bed on his back. She clambered over beside him, kissed him wetly on the belly. Van gasped at the touch of her hot lips, then cringed, as if trying to squeeze himself out of sight.
"I'll-would you like me to do you first?" he ventured, hoping she would turn him down and glad because of it.
Dee shook her golden tresses. "Huh-uh. Later-next time. Unless you'd rather we do it together; the sixty-nine."
Van acquiesced with a nod. "Okay. Later-and the whole bit. It's a long time till morning."
"Poo, what's with morning? It's a longer time until a week from today. We've no need to hurry-"
Dee was about to crawl on top of her brother, but caught herself with a small start of surprise; an unexpected revelation abruptly dawned on her. It was as if a door in the back of her mind suddenly opened, revealing a truth, a truth stating bluntly that she had for years unknowingly yearned for sexual intimacies with her brother.
"Van, how long have you wanted-" Her gesture implied their being naked together on the bed preparing for sex. "-this? How long have you wanted to have sex with me?" As she spoke she reached out and clasped her soft fingers around the thick stalk of male sex flesh angled up over her brother's belly. Van grunted explosively.
"Since I first became aware of sex, I think," he replied. "But it didn't get to be a crunch with me till that time we swam naked together. After that-boy! It was brutal after that, until I learned to control it. A little."
Dee worked his big cock round and round in the manner one might stir a huge pot. "How did you learn to control it?"
"I discovered there were other girls in the world besides my sister," he grinned.
"Poo!" Dee grimaced fetchingly, attention on his penis. Fascination with the big engine and its delicious-looking foreskin had her mouth brick dust dry. "Among my girlfriends I've heard hints you're a wow in bed. You'll have to prove it to me, you know. Hold still." She leaned over his crotch, levered his rod upright and dipped her head, fearing her heart might thump its way out of her chest unless she tasted his prick flavor at once. But to prolong things she meant to taste him only partially.
"HAKH-aaaaaaah!" Van snorted and ground his head sideways into the pillow at the touch of her sweet lips, then forced his senses back in line in order to watch.
Dee's moist, gossamer lips closed around the thick rubbery snout of elongated foreskin, but only after she checked to satisfy a sudden curiosity. Yes, it was true. Van's foreskin was so long that even with his penis rigid as iron and by her looking straight down at the foreskin from close up, she was unable to see any sign of the glans. Should he ever marry, not only Van's wife but now she also, his sister, could be humbly grateful their father, Angus Manor, had been vociferously against circumcision-and then her soft lips closed around the foreskin.
Very gently she sucked, holding her brother's penis straight up and careful not to permit her lips to descend too far-the indescribable joys of tasting the pure, unadulterated flavor of his glans would come later, when she tongue bathed him and peeled the foreskin down. Even so, the flavor of his prepuce coupled with the ripe, heady aroma of mature male genitals in her nostrils caused her a slight giddiness. Timmy Ever's cute little underdeveloped pecker had possessed a maddening flavor and scent, but Van's ... In a fleeting thought it occurred to Dee that if she were forced on threat of death to declare a preference between Timmy's and her brother's she would have been incapable of so doing. Each was distinctly different from the other, yet she loved both with equal fervor.
Cautiously, holding her lips pursed in a loose but firm circle, she caressed and teased the foreskin, then sent the pink tip of her gossamer tongue down through the wrinkled opening toward the hidden glans. She took care to proceed slowly, for Van was already evincing indications he might explode into violent action should his erotic sensations quickly become too intense. Very gently she wormed her tongue deeper into the foreskin, sucking on the flaccid skin as she did so to keep the fleshy extension manageable. The sheet muscles across Van's flat belly tensed and relaxed, then snapped into tight bands when the tongue's tip lightly touched the opening in the end of his glans. The opening was slicker than the foreskin she sucked, and Dee made a small sound of approval as the flavor of his oozing semen was added to her mouth.
Very slowly she extended the tip of her tongue, worked it delicately around the hole in his prick, her insides aquiver with ecstasy, her slender, golden loveliness covered with goose-pimples of lust. Then, still cautiously, she extended her tongue downward further still into the short tube of foreskin, and commenced to squirm her tongue softly in small circles between the foreskin and the surface of the throbbing glans.
"Sis! For the love of God!" Van whined desperately.
Dee grasped his cock just below the head with one hand, blew her breath down into the rubbery foreskin, which caused it to balloon quickly, resembling a large bubble of chewing gum. Then she sat up to face her brother with a gladsome smile, her gay laughter rippling over the bedroom.
"I do believe you've been neglected, brother mine," she teased happily. "Don't any of your girlfriends know how to blow you properly?"
"Jesus!" Van gasped wanely, seeming to deflate. "None of them torture me insane." A big grin broke over his face. "Don't make a martyr out of me, baby sister. Why did you stop?"
"Poo. I haven't really started yet. I've only been priming you." Dee eyed his cock speculatively, knowing it was too big, knowing she could never give him what she privately called her 'ultimate treatment,' which required getting his cock all the way down in her throat. Actually, he was so enormous she wasn't sure she could take him between the legs. In the behind, perhaps, but the smallness of her vagina might well become a problem. Moreover, she was in no way certain she could spread her jaw wide enough to get her mouth over his glans.
"Priming me?" Van said. "God! Then I'll never survive the whole works." He extended a hand and Dee caught her breath in a tiny gasp as his fingers closed around the satiny protuberance of a breast. Then his other hand worked its way down around under and between the mounds of her buttocks to the fluffy moist mass of crinkles at her crotch. She gasped again as fingers forged into ant through the fluffy crinkles and commenced tenderly to explore her hot pussy.
"V-Va-Van," she stuttered, face flushing hotly. "I'll cum-keep it up and I'll never get your cock sucked."
"Easy, baby sister," he grinned. "You said we had all the time in the world." But reluctantly he withdrew both hands and, reaching up and back, took firm grip on the headboard of the bed. "Go ahead," he continued in tones of quivering urgency. "Suck me."
This time Dee swung over to kneel between his out-flung legs, bringing her face directly above and within scant inches of his fabulous genitals. Again she levered his cock upright, licking her soft, ripe lips in greedy anticipation.
CHAPTER SEVEN
At the precise moment that Dee had awakened from her nap to find Van standing naked beside her bed, Walter Harris had been entering the front door.
Harris, head of the law firm that handled the Manor family's legal matters and close family friend of long standing, carried in his hand a sealed letter to be delivered in person to young Cynthia Manor. Years ago, and several months before the fatal plane crash took her life, Rachel Manor, Cynthia's mother, had deposited the letter to his keeping after extracting Harris' promise to give it to her daughter on the eve of Dee Manor's twenty-fifth birthday. And now, in keeping with his promise to Rachel, Harris was delivering the letter to Cynthia.
Prior to leaving his offices, he had phoned Cynthia to make certain the girl would be home and expecting him. On learning of his intended visit Cynthia had, inexplicably, quickly grown breathless with excitement, and told him to come straight down to the rumpus room, that she would be waiting.
Cynthia was waiting, stark naked and virtually athrob with pulsating young female lust.
Harris stopped dead at the foot of the rumpus room stairs. His jaw sagged loose in surprise and he gaped, for the moment not comprehending-but his cock bucked stubbornly upright in angry protest against the confining fabric of his Jockey shorts.
Across the large rumpus room, beyond the pool table, standing beside a plastic covered divan larger than the average size double bed, Cynthia preened and postured fetchingly to display her figure, the impish Mother Eve smile on her face giving the lie to her pretense she was unaware of Harris' arrival. In the time between Harris' phone call and his appearance, Cynthia had come to a decision typical of her nature regarding matters she deemed important. She had at once seen Harris' visit as the opportunity of being alone with him that she had been dreaming and praying for, and decided on the spot to take full advantage of it. She had also decided that she didn't give a fiddler's fuck if she was flat chested, knobby kneed and skinny as hell, she was going to pretend she was beautiful as the Queen of Sheba had ever been-perhaps Walter wouldn't notice. At least not until after she had given him a roundhouse fucking.
The gaping Harris suddenly understood. The naked child was blatantly attempting to seduce him. His hard-on protested savagely as, without a word, he turned to go. "No!"
Slowly he turned back to face the naked little nymphette across the room-his breathing began to trouble him.
"Walter," Cynthia continued. "You said you had a letter for me from my mother."
Harris nodded, the lust-heat that had seized him breaking him out in sweat. "Rachel left it with me some time before her death, asking that I deliver it to you in person on the eve of your Aunt Dee's twenty-fifth birthday, which is today." His voice shook with suppressed emotion by the time he finished speaking. What in hell is wrong with me? he demanded of himself in silent anger. He had never even thought of fucking Cynthia-well, at least not with her as young as she was. The girl was no more than a child and....
"There." Cynthia pointed to the pool table between them, but much closer to her than it was to Harris. "Put the letter on the table, Walter.
Please." The request was merely a ploy to get him closer. At the moment she cared not a whit about the letter, even had it been from God Himself. For the time at least, Cynthia had much better control of her emotions than the man she addressed did his-Harris had very little self-restraint where sex was concerned and, like most men, virtually none when prospects of fresh, tender young poon was in the offing. His attempt to leave had been prompted by a number of reasons; at times he fancied himself in love with Dee Manor. All the Manors were his close personal friends; his law firm received an annual five-figure retainer from the family-but this last was of the least importance. My god, he thought suddenly. What if he did fuck the girl-child across the room and Dee found out!
"What does the letter say?" Cynthia asked as Harris, zombie-fashion, advanced and placed the heavy Manila envelope on the pool table.
"I don't know," he replied woodenly, blood pounding in his ears. "The letter has never been opened. That's for you to do. That's the way your mother wanted it."
When Cynthia made no reply, Harris continued, straining not to feast his eyes on the little nymphette's naked body. "I suspect the letter reveals the identity of your father."
This was true. He had suspected the same when Rachel had given him the letter, recalling with exceptional clarity the instance of Rachel's visit to his office years ago.
"Rachel," he had asked of the large framed, heavy-set young woman seated across his desk. "Rachel, am I Cynthia's father?" Their one single sexual encounter had taken place during a party at the Manor mansion in Sequoia Hills less than a month after he had been accepted into the law firm he now owned. The encounter had been nothing more than a casual fuck, a quickie, on his part really nothing more than an impulsive mercy fucking of the rather dumpy, broad-beamed Manor sister whose physical feminine charms rated nil. He had been a bit tipsy from too many cocktails and...."Rachel, tell me. Am I Cynthia's father?" He had never been positive he had successfully concealed the heart-felt sigh of relief when Rachel assured him he was not Cynthia's father and that if he were she had no intentions of forcing him into marriage. Regardless of the father, Rachel was adamant on this point, Cynthia belonged to her and to her alone.
"Walter?" Cynthia raised to her toes and sashayed to where he stood against the pool table with exaggerated nymphian grace. Now that she had him, she was diddly-be-goddamned if she let him get away. "Do you think I'm pretty, Walter?" In her approach she held one hand down over her crotch, hoping desperately behind a winsome smile he would not notice that her pussy was hairless.
Harris wrung his collar with a forefinger, the pool table preventing his half-hearted attempt at retreat. "I've got to get back to the office, Cynthia."
Cynthia lowered her lids, did not allow him to see the fleeting despair his mention of leaving brought to her hazel eyes, and moved in close against him, taking a wide-legged, belly-to-belly stance.
The enervating, intoxicating perfume of maiden arousal emanating from the hairless little pussy snugged between her spread thighs wafted upward to Harris' nostrils, and he loosed a noisy series of rapid-fire gulps, a certain part of his mind going numb. Dear god! he thought wildly. If the child was only a bit older! Sixteen, for instance. Or even fifteen. But thirteen? That was too damn young! It'd be almost like diddling a baby. Nevertheless, if....
"Cynthia, listen to me." He had to try. Simply had to make some effort, otherwise he might not be able to live with himself hereafter. And if Dee ever found out...."Cynthia, this foolish idea of yours-" The soft little hand groping through his suddenly unzipped fly paralyzed his vocal organs.
His facial expression at that instant, the look in his eyes, filled the determined Cynthia Manor with trembly exultation, for they informed her, via those Mother Eve instincts all females possess, that she had the upper hand, that in spite of his greater age and maturity, she was in command of the situation. But again, as with her despair only moments ago, she concealed her exultation and fumbled through the barrier of Jockey shorts and tugged Harris' throbbing erection into view.
"Walter," she pleaded quietly. "What is it? What's the matter? I'm big enough. I'm old enough-" A faint note of pride crept into her voice, "-and I'm not a virgin."
"You're not?" Harris yelped in high-tension excitement. "Only thirteen and not a virgin?"
Cynthia eyed him in quick alarm, sensing she'd said a terribly wrong thing. But where wrong? What in the name of spit could a man want with a goddamn virgin? She'd always thought ... To distract him till she thought of something she began manipulating his erection as she'd seen women do in her and Julie's sex-oriented picture magazines. Harris emitted a loud groan as her agile little mind decided to bluff it through.
"No, Walter, I'm not," she said solemnly, raising on tiptoes, trying to reach his lips with hers. Then she lied glibly. "Didn't Aunt Dee tell you about it? Right before school was out this year some boys in the park held me and-and-"
The lie did much to weaken Harris' remaining [the remainder of this sentence/paragraph was missing in the original hardcopy pocketbook]
Harris released her, breathless, leaned back against the pool table and fixed her with a dumfounded stare. It had all happened so incredibly fast! The girl had cornered him, had out-maneuvered him at each and every turn, and ... Christ!
Masturbatory though it was, the orgasm stabilized Harris' equilibrium somewhat, and resistance. Her subsequent move destroyed it altogether. With her free hand she took one of his, drew it over between her spraddled thighs and pressed one of his rough scalpy fingers up into the mouth of her hot child's pussy.
"See, Walter?" I'm not a virgin any more. Are you angry with me because of it?"
The buttery-soft texture of her twat-flesh on his hand, in conjunction with the perfume of maiden-lust in his nostrils wrenched a mighty groan from Harris' chest, and he commenced tearing at his garments like a man on fire. Buttons popped when he tore off his shirt. He was clawing for his belt buckle when a startled cry sprang from his lips and he seized Cynthia with both arms, hugging her tightly to him.
Cynthia ceased to masturbate him and stood perfectly still, heart pounding out a fierce rhythm of victory and listening to Harris' grunts of release, feeling the warm, sticky goo of his discharge squirt against her naked belly. solidified the decision his mind had already made. Since Cynthia was determined to fuck, and since she was eager and capable, well....
Cynthia stood by in silence while Harris finished undressing, wiping his cum from her tummy with the undershirt he threw on the table. When he stepped free of his shorts a warning tingle of apprehension crept up her spine. During the time when she was jacking him off she had sensed an unexpected something had entered the picture. Now she realized that 'something' was the hefty length and thickness of Walter's penis. It was not nearly as large as her Uncle Van's, which she had seen from the closet yesterday, but it bordered on the gigantic when compared to the slender vibrator she'd used in preparation for this moment. But so what? She shrugged mentally. The vibrator had caused hardly any pain at all in breaking her in so ... Anyway, the possibility of pain was not the cause of her apprehension. Damn the pain! What alarmed her was the possibility Walter might not be able to get it in, to fuck her properly, and if such happened he just might also never speak to her again.
An awkward moment of silence followed Harris' removal of his last garment. Each stood looking expectantly until he took Cynthia by the arm.
"Let's sit on the divan a bit and talk," he said with a shaky laugh. "I need a minute or so to get used to all this." He gave her a searching look as they sat down. "Cynthia Manor," he mused in awe to himself with a shake of his head, as though he couldn't believe. "Coupling with innocent little girl-child Cynthia Manor."
"I'm not innocent and I'm not a child," Cynthia replied pertly. "I'm a knowledgeable young woman, eager and willing." Then, because her love-making vocabulary had been gleaned solely from her collection of under-the-counter novels, language of which is at times startlingly blunt, she leaned against Harris and whispered hotly: "Walter, will you suck my pussy? After we fuck a few times, I mean; will you suck my pussy?"
For a second time since coming down into the rumpus room, Walter Harris gaped-literally. The forthright boldness of the girl's approach rocked his foundations. But again he recovered quickly, recognizing one inescapable fact; Cynthia was right. She was no longer a child and certainly not innocent, but a lusty young wench who knew what she wanted and was determined to have it.
"Why not suck you before we fuck?" He was curious to hear her answer.
"Huh-uh, I want you to fuck me first." She wrinkled her nose at him in an elfin grin. "First the fucking, then the sucking."
"And will you suck me also?"
"I'll try. I don't know if I can get all your cock in my mouth, but I'll try though."
"Let's begin like this, shall we?" He leaned back onto the divan, drawing her after him, and his male ego got a tremendous boost from the desperate, lustful whine that sprang from her lips when he capped the nearest little nubbin tit with the heat of his mouth.
While Walter Harris was preparing to administer to Cynthia her first fucking down in the rumpus room, upstairs, in Dee Manor's bedroom, Dee was preparing to suck her brother's cock. At the instant Harris rolled toward Cynthia and commenced stroking the pinkish corwn of her tit with his tongue, Dee's tongue had just completed the final traverse of Van's lower belly in readiness to go lower. Van himself still clung to the headboard of the bed, alternately glaring in wild-eyed lust in all directions and gnashing his teeth, trying to retain some few shreds of sanity.
When Dee's tongue forsook his belly and she scooted lower, this sanity all but deserted him completely, for she went directly to that point on the underside of his rigid cock where it joined his scrotum, and her hot lips nibbled up along the bulging cum-vein to the very end of his prick. For a brief moment Van Manor did actually lose his mind, and thrashed and bucked on the bed like a grub on a hot griddle-until Dee paused to glance up at him, her lovely face aglow with happiness.
"Van, you silly goose," she chided teasingly. "How can I attend to you properly if you wiggle around so much?"
"I don't know," he rasped hoarsely. "I still think you're trying to make a martyr out of me, but if you stop now I'll go cut my throat and I swear it."
"Then control yourself, silly, and learn what a master blow-job is like."
Van groaned in submission and waited. But not for long.
Dee could barely endure the delicious quivers of anticipation flushing through her as once again she levered his huge cock into a straight-up position and poised her face above the end of it. Her insides felt watery from the knowledge of the precious erotic delights at hand when she circled the big bulb of his glans with thumb and forefinger, pressed downward a small fraction to spread the bud of his puckered foreskin, leaned forward and, as she had done with Timmy Evers the day before, inhaled luxuriously. Ahhhhhhh, dear sweet blessed God. Tears of rapturous thanksgiving stung her eyes. The ripe, zesty tang of her brother's glans awakened primitive strains of latent savagery in her breast, her upper lip drew back in an atavistic snarl of cave-woman lust and she was forced to struggle against a powerful urge to pounce on his strong-smelling cock with her teeth. She won the struggle; she did not bite him, but the urge was too strong to indefinitely delay the inevitable. She had to have it! Had to feel the hard, throbbing presence of his cock in her throat else she go screaming, babbling mad!
Again she pulled downward on the massive foreskin, and this time her quivering desire was not denied; she stared in spellbound fascination as the deep-pink bulbous head of her brother's glans oozed upward into view. Waning afternoon sunlight coming through the window glistened dimly on the emerging head, seeming to bathe it in irresistible invitaion. Dee's sexual-response mechanism grew taut in preparation; under their crinkly golden forest the lips of her cunt twitched excitedly and the orgasm trembling in her loins threatened to strike. She only managed to subdue the orgasm by squeezing tight her abdominal muscles. Hot breath panted from her parted lips as she feasted ravenous eyes on the priceless treasure. The huge glans, now circled below the shoulder by the great tight collar of foreskin, reminded her fleetingly of an oddly shaped, out-of-round fruit resting flatly on a fleshy saucer, and a hard, quick vibration of lust shot through her naked body at sight of the rapturous repast she was about to enjoy.
She lowered her lips to within a quarter-inch of her brother's burning sex-flesh, poked out a pert tongue and licked the head of his cock, savoring the enervating tang from the flavor buds that blossomed in her mouth. Van's prick tasted fabulous! But she had known it would. Most pricks did, didn't they? Even so, there was a difference here, something especially delicious about the throbbing root, and a tiny purr of contentment was born in her throat as she realized the extra delicious difference was due to the fact that the prick belonged to her brother. Dear, sweet, wonderful Van! She snuggled her cheek alongside the ribbed, enormous cock and continued to purr.
"Sis, for the love of God!" Van half-screamed in a tumultuous lather of lust. "Either quit or go ahead, but do something! I can't stand any!!!hahhhhk!" His eyes bulged dangerously as the moist gossamer sheath of his sister's hot mouth slid down over the head of his cock. A non-human, prehistoric howl poured from his constricted throat, and the heavily reinforced board comprising the headboard of the bed cracked with a loud pop from his wrenching clutch as the well of cum in his loins erupted, geysering upward through the tortured tube of his aching cock into his sister's waiting mouth.
Dee's jaws were painfully wide, yet she shivered with joys unspeakable from the feel of the pulsating glans filling her mouth. This particular blow-job was but a flimsy imitation of the one she'd hoped to give her brother, but he was too anxious, needed a cum too bad. Never mind, there would be plenty of opportunities later to treat him with her fellatial expertise. If only his cock wasn't so huge! Then she could get it all the way down in her throat, as she did a couple of the youngsters from the Academy, and give his dick her ultimate treatment.
Dee braced herself, and not a moment too soon. As she did so the initial charge of scalding semen bludgeoned up from her brother's balls to explode in silent thunder against the back of her mouth. Ahhhhhh, dear God above. How sweet it is. On the heels of this first charge came a second, then a third, then another and another and another and on and on and on in such rapid succession that Dee, in spite of frantic gulping, felt her cheeks bulge from the plethoric discharge, bulge and overflow from the tightly stretched corners of her mouth down the ribbed sides of the violently spasming cock.
"Gark!" Van's howl terminated with several barks, and he lay with chest and abdominal area heaving like those of a winded horse. "Aaaaaaaaah, sweet little baby Jesus boy," he gasped at last. "My God, Sis, you've drained my balls dry. They feel as empty as a jug."
Dee drooled and sucked and slurped at his cock until the final vestiges of his volcanic orgasm were gone, then raised her face to his with a happy smile.
"Like it?"
Van studied his sister with new eyes. "I'm weak as a sick cat," he mumbled. "I need a transfusion."
"Poo to you, kind sir," Dee laughed softly. "If anyone gets a transfusion around here, I'm it." She wagged his still rigid cock playfully. "A transfusion with this." She patted her seething vagina. "Right here. Come on, brother dear. Make like the masterful stud I hear you are."
"In a moment," Van said and grinned shakily. "Quick as I recover from those lips of yours."
CHAPTER EIGHT
While Van was recovering from his sister's lips, down in the rumpus room Walter Harris' lips were busily engaged with Cynthia Manor's hairless young pussy. Harris had ignored, and Cynthia had forgotten, the request that she be fucked first, and neither seemed concerned over the change. They lay near the center of the divan, Cynthia on her back, Harris on his belly, both his hands cupped under her firm young buttocks and face buried in her crotch. Cynthia's limbs flailed wildy, thumping the divan in ragged rhythm, face warped beyond recognition as she labored in a frenzy of mindless lust.
Walter's sweet tongue and lips were killing her. She believed this-and didn't give a tinker's damn.
Each time his tongue slithered up into her pussy, searing waves of delicious agony washed across her naked body, and when his lips nibbled at her sturdy little passion peak the world rocked while she jabbered and gurgled incoherently. On occasion she would raise her head to boggle in lust-soaked stupefaction at the man feasting on her cunt.
As for Walter Harris, heaven could never be like this. Nor would his world ever again be the same. The fragrance of the intoxicating scent exuded by Cynthia's barren twat, fluids of which wet his face from brow to chin, had on him the effects of a powerful, mind-changing narcotic that caused the user to view reality as his most secret and coveted fantasies. He was no stranger to cunnilingus. It was one of his favorite sex forms. With the taste of the feminine straddle he was well acquainted, but there was a virginal, tangy purity perfuming Cynthia's sensitive sex flesh that threatened to wreck his mind as he licked and laved and sucked her pussy like a starving animal. Suddenly he realized his attention to cunnilingus deprived them both of the thing he and Cynthia wanted most; the old fashioned vagina-penis coupling in a straight-out, conventional fuck. With a final greedy kiss at the girl's pussy, Harris withdrew and rolled to his side.
Cynthia gradually simmered, hazel eyes coming back into focus. She looked at him without, expression, re-discovering reality. "Why did you stop, Walter?"
"We got carried away. You said you wanted to do it another way first."
Cynthia nodded eagerly. "Mmmhuh, fuck."
Thoughts of Dee came into his mind as he crawled up beside Cynthia and lay close. "What will your Aunt Dee say if she finds us down here like this?" For weeks he had been trying to analyze his feelings about Dee Manor. Sometimes he was certain he loved her, at other times he was not sure at all.
"Aunt Dee fucks." Again Cynthia perceived she had said the wrong thing; Uncle Van said her aunt and Walter might marry.
"Oh?" Harris frowned slightly. "Who?"
"Well," Cynthia hedged, seeming to concentrate on fondling his hard cock. "Not really fuck, but I'm sure she thinks of being in bed with a man and that's almost the same thing."
"Being in bed with what man?"
Cynthia's feigned astonishment would have put a professional actress to shame. What man? Why, you of course, how silly." She caressed his prick lovingly.
Harris was not entirely taken in by the ploy, but a bit surprised to learn that the idea of Dee sexually coupled with another man did not disturb him overmuch. After all, Dee was young, healthy, beautiful-and Nature would be served. In fact, if and when he and Dee did marry, he had no illusions about discovering her a virgin on their wedding night.
"That's not the point, Walter," Cynthia said bluntly.
"No?" Harris did not follow her. "What point are you getting at?"
Cynthia treated him with one on her impish grins. "The point that you and I aren't fucking." Harris shook his head in mild dismay. For a girl only thirteen years old ... He raised to an elbow in preparation to mounting her, but looked over his shoulder toward Boffo's quarters. It was not that he actually disliked or feared Dee's big brown pet, he simply felt more comfortable when the beast wasn't around.
"Are you certain you turned Boffo out before I arrived?" he asked.
Cynthia regarded him in faint annoyance-for all their fierce eagerness and heat generated while he was sucking her pussy, a long time was lapsing before he was putting his prick where his tongue had been.
"Yes," she said with flat finality. "I chased Boffo out because I know he makes you uncomfortable and he's trained to stay out till he's called in. So there!" She tugged at his cock. "Come on now, Walter, please." She giggled impulsively. "Boffo won't be watching you fuck me."
Perhaps not Boffo, but Cynthia and Harris had an audience of one none the less. That audience was General Erwin Harper Spaatz, owner-director of Spaatz Military Academy, which bordered Dee Manor's estate. Spaatz's title of 'General' was assumed. His highest U.S. Army rank had been that of colonel, a chaplain, a rank of which he was swiftly dispossessed after nineteen years service when a contemporary was forced to disclose the reason Spaatz always kept one or more male Great Dane dogs about. Spaatz' discharge certificate bore the words 'Resigned without prejudice' as the reason for his severance from service because, strangely, even the military was reluctant to issue a certificate reading: 'Cashiered from service for being cornholed by a dog.' It was not that his contemporaries objected to Spaatz's penchant per se-what good military man of rank didn't have his own private little hang-ups, eh? Like old 3-star Hornaby's insatiable appetite for urine-soaked bread and enlisted mens' urine at that, haw-haw!-but ole Spaatzie had been so indiscreet as to couple with his favorite mutt on the back porch in view of neighbors. Publicity like that tended to give the military an even worse image and, harrumph! well....
Spaatz had taken the Great Danes with him into civilian life when he established his Academy, but his affection for them quickly waned after discovering Boffo. This discovery soon resulted in an understanding between him and Boffo's owner; Dee's unlimited access to the young students of the Academy in return for his unlimited access to her bear. It was a perfect arrangement in that it cost neither anything and served both beautifully.
Spaatz had entered the Manor property through the west gate and approached through the shrubbery, as was his occasional wont to do, in hopes of a speedy sodomizing by Boffo, when voices from inside the rumpus room caused him to stop and crouch outside the window just in time to see the naked couple inside repair to the divan.
Their subsequent behavior nauseated Spaatz and he retched in mortifying shame and disgust for the human race as through the window he watched Harris dive into the young Cynthia's crotch. Revolting, that's what it was. Simply revolting. Not at all like a fuck in the ass by a big brown bear. Look at them now! That fellow Harris was fixing to mount and....
"What makes you think I care if Boffo watches us screw?" Harris asked Cynthia as he moved into position above her. The question had no real purpose. In truth, Harris was not aware of even asking it. Pure and simple it was an automatic response to the girl's earlier comment, for Harris had vastly more important things to hold his attention at the moment. Like the naked little eager thirteen-year-old lying beneath him, for instance.
Drawing on knowledge garnered from her and Julie's collection of sex novels, as Harris settled down against her, Cynthia whispered: "You want me to put him in?"
Harris' grunted reply meant neither yes or no, only that he heard her, for already he lay braced on an elbow, one hand down between their loins. But Cynthia pushed his hand aside.
"No," she whispered fervently. "Let me. I want to peel him back."
Harris let her. He had little choice. And grunted again as her soft fingers curled around his throbbing cock.
Outside the window General Spaatz watched in loathing. He had no fear of being detected, from either inside the house or out, for the window he spied through was covered by heavy drapes to within six inches of the sill, and directly behind him was a low embankment topped by a tall, dense hedge.
Over and above his loathing and disgust, Spaatz shook with undisguised rage. However inadvertently, the depraved, obscene couple in the rumpus room had thwarted General Spaatz's desires, their presence prohibited his entering the room and visiting the fabulous Boffo. He gnashed his false molars in impotent fury, saggy-fat face an unwholesome, diseased rash of splotches. Yet under the circumstances he was as helpless as a trussed hog. Look! Look at that little blonde Manor slut fondle that Harris fellow?"
"You don't object to me putting him in, do you, Walter?" Cynthia asked, still whispering, then repeated herself; "I want to peel your foreskin back."
With both small hands now on Harris' cock, one to steady it and one to do the job, Cynthia pushed back his foreskin, delicately traced her fingers over the front half of his prick to make sure it was back as far as it would go, then pulled it toward her, guiding it till the blood-bloated glans was centered squarely at her tiny child's cuntal mouth.
At the touch of their hot, sensitized sex flesh a whimper of lust fluttered from her throat while Harris, his anxious emotions churning in turmoil, clinched his eyes and groaned. A tiny part of his mind wondered where in God's name the succulent little nymphette under him had obtained her knowledge of the sex act when Cynthia's knees raised and she clasped his waist with her small, hot thighs, planting her heels on his poised buttocks.
"Now, Walter," she whispered feverishly. "Fuck me, Walter."
Harris needed no second invitation, but centered his weight, thrust with his hips, and-
"Ouch!" Cynthia whipped her straddle aside, staring up at the man between her thighs in alarm. Something was wrong! She'd busted her goddamn cherry with the vibrator-hadn't she? The vibrator was a lot more slender than Walter's prick, but....
My God, Walter Harris thought in surprise. The girl had lied about being non-virgin. By her words and aggressiveness you'd think she was an aroused pro with a thousand tricks to her credit, but she had lied about her virginity! A fierce joy seized him. He quivered with anxiety and suddenly his nuts ached to unload-he'd never taken a virgin so young before.
"You lied about being raped in the park," he told her bluntly.
Once again the knowledge gleaned from her and Julie's novels came to Cynthia's rescue.
"Oh no, Walter," she panted. "I-the doctor had to take stitches you see and-be easy will you? But do it."
This time it was Harris who positioned his cock in place, and this time he did not thrust abruptly, but slowly, delicately, he pressed forward, and Cynthia's face twisted in pain and dismay in proportion to the pressure he applied. But Harris did not make penetration. Her child's pussy was too fuckin' small!!! Cynthia thought in despair. Walter couldn't get it into her!
She bit her lower lip against the sting of pain his efforts caused, held off as long as she could, then-"Ouch!" and once more she whipped her straddle aside.
"Try again," she whispered quickly, staring upward in distress at the man whose loins were couched hotly into hers. "Go ahead! Maybe this time...."
From outside the window General Spaatz snarled his anger and disappointment. Look at the depraved sonsabitches! he raged to himself, squatting low on his hams to peer under the drapes. Just look-He started violently in surprise at the firm nudge on his rear, lost his balance and fell forward to hands and knees. He scrambled around in the same position, his unwholesome countenance flushed with angry blood, which faded quicker than it appeared.
"Boffo!" he cooed in delight. "Boffo, sweet love. I thought you were inside, sweet sweetness."
Boffo merely sat down and waited. He had not been trained especially for the act he was about to perform, but knew from experience what to expect from the general. Already his thick, knobby bear's prick jutted out of its fleshy tube. Nor did Spaatz disappoint the bear, but took a tube of Preparation H from his pocket, unbuckled his belt and a minute later was on hands and knees again, his naked backside addressing Boffo.
Inside the rumpus room Cynthia Manor again held her breath and bit her lip against the pain-and for the fifth time snatched her crotch away from Harris' prick. Tears of frustration welled in her hazel eyes. Goddamn it to hell!!! All her scheming and hoping and wanting Walter to fuck her and now this! The plastic surface of the divan on which she lay was slick with perspiration. Large globules of the same sweat beaded her dear Walter's face heavily and she could feel it fall in big drops from his body to hers as they lay panting and gathering their strength in belly to belly contact. Through the perspiration their faces revealed the strain of their efforts and their labored breathing was loud and gaspy.
"Wh-what are we going to dooooo?" Cynthia wailed, though her agile mind wheeled a mile a minute in search of surcease from their maddening dilemma.
"I don't know," Harris replied honestly. God knew he wanted a solution to the problem. Never in his life had he dreamed there might exist a willing and eager little girl with pussy so tight and sensitive to the tiniest pain he couldn't get his prick in it.
Outside the rumpus room window, on hands and knees still, General Erwin Harper Spaatz sobbed and crooned in ecstasy and clawed at the gravel walkway as the big brown bear fucked him brutally in the ass.
"I know a way," Cynthia cried suddenly, shaking her head to fling tears from her eyes. She had no intention of giving up this once in a lifetime opportunity. She was getting a bit sore, but the pain was of little moment-a possible solution had occurred to her. It just might work. Regardless, she was determined they try.
"Walter, I know what we can do. See that table over there? Get up."
Harris complied with alacrity, puzzled but hoping. "What table?"
"Over there. Against the wall. Come on." Cynthia raced toward the object in question; an incidental table some two feet wide and four feet long situated lengthwise against the wall near the stairs. When she reached the table she turned, placed her buttocks against the edge of it, leaned rearward to brace her shoulders against the wall, then drew her knees high and wide, presenting the erotically aflame Harris with a portrait of eager lust that staggered his senses.
Cynthia had lost all self-disgust over her lack of pubic growth and other aspects she regarded as her undesirable immaturity. All she wanted to do was get fucked, and now that she wasn't laying on that slick plastic divan any longer, where it was so easy to break their contact, maybe she would.
"Here." She seized his cock back of the collar of foreskin and planted the glans snugly at the mouth of her fiery pussy, then braced her shoulders more firmly against the wall and gripped the edge of the table. "Now shove it in," she gritted. "Shove hard!"
CHAPTER NINE
At the very instant Walter Harris set his stance to finish on Cynthia the job the vibrator had only begun, upstairs in Dee's bedroom Van Manor regained his strength and recovered fully from the devastating effects of his sister's maddening lips. He still lay on his back, Dee seated beside him on the bed.
"Who has been telling you I'm a masterful stud?" he grinned.
"No one directly, but I've overheard hints. Girls talk, you know." Dee extended a hand and trickled the tips of her fingers like little bird's feet over his balls and rigid cock. She was far from satisfied with the blow-job she had given her brother, and that old familiar sensation of hunger returned to her throat. God! If only she could give Van the ultimate treatment; if only she could get the full length of his rigid penis all the way down her throat. But his cock was so huge! Little wonder that her jaws ached. Van Manor possessed the most enormous set of male genitalia she had ever seen. During their fellatio, in order to get the great bulb of his cock in her mouth, it had been necessary to spring her jaws painfully wide and....
Apprehension touched her. From experience with other men she knew for a fact that her vagina accommodated the size of a hard penis somewhat less readily than her mouth. Actually, and this was another and, for a time, rather disconcerting fact discovered at the instance of her first buggering by Ralph Greenway-her anal passage was hardly less accommodating than her vagina. Once, following her annual medical check-up, a nurse had told her quite enviously of having overheard the doctor's comment that Miss Manor's exceptionally small size might become a problem in bearing children.
Van's lingers wormed their way between the moist flesh of his sister's sensitive labia. "What's the matter, baby sister? Why suddenly so thoughtful?"
"I was thinking of my upcoming transfusion," Dee laughed softly. "And the size of the needle you'll administer it with. Has it ever caused a problem before? With other girls?"
"The size?"
Dee nodded.
"Yes, it has," Van replied honestly. "But never such a problem it couldn't be overcome with patience and effort. Remember Cousin Nettie's visit last spring?"
"No!" Dee squealed in delight and surprise. "You never made it with Nettie!" Nettie Hamilton was a third cousin on their mother's side of the family; a large, raw-boned, thirtyish woman given to tweeds, drinking straight whiskey and running with Philadelphia's horsey set. It was an old assumption throughout the family that Nettie would die an old maid in the purest sense of the word, not because of her rather uncomely looks, or because she was especially offensive toward men, but because she simply ignored the existence of men so utterly they soon avoided her.
"You bet I did fuck Cousin Nettie," Van chuckled. "I was her first. The night after her arrival she got stoned and came to my bed boldly as you please, drunk as a lord and weeping terribly."
"Weeping?" Dee asked excitedly. "Why weeping?"
"Because she believed herself undesirable to men. Her always ignoring men was not because she wanted to. That was only a protective device to prevent getting hurt. I was her first fuck. Her cunt was so small it took us all that night and most of the next morning, but once we got under way, she wouldn't let me quit. Remember how she remained in her room for four days complaining of a virus. I wasn't at the Atlanta 500 races, as I said later. I was Nettie's virus. Once I finally got my dick inside her, she almost ate me up. She wouldn't let me out of bed, not until her cunt got so sore she couldn't walk." Van gave his sister a curious grin and gently tweeked a tiny tuft of hair on her cunt. "Are you afraid your gash is too small for me?"
"Well-" Dee eyed his big prick speculatively and rubbed her jaw, which still ached a bit. "There's really only one way to find out for certain, isn't there?"
Van sat up in bed and drew his sister close. "What about a spot of cunnilingus as a warmer-upper? "
Dee laughed shakily from excitement and erotic tension. "I don't need a warmer-upper, but all right. I can always do with a spot of cunnilingus."
A second later she lay on her back where Van had lain, feeling the warmth in the bed left by his body seep upward into hers and touching her with that same close, intense intimacy she had experienced following that spiritual orgasm of her wet dream. A tiny frown creased her brow as she strove to determine and analyze the feeling more precisely, but was unsuccessful and lost contact with the effort as Van, his features a bit indistinct in the diminished light, moved over her.
"My heavens," she murmured, glancing toward the window, then switching on the bed lamp. "I had no idea it was so late." She laughed throatily. "I've been in bed the entire day. I hope Sarah has all arrangements made for the party tomorrow. If-" She shivered as Van's weight came down between her upraised thighs and eager lips captured the nipple of her left breast. "Haaaah-haaaaaaah!" she gasped desperately.
The peaked, silken crown of resilient breast-flesh in Van's mouth was like none he had ever before encountered. There was an entrancing stimilus and succulence about it that was new to him, plus a certain aura, the co-mingled essence of which he failed to identify or understand unless because the dream in bed with him was his sister. Regardless, the sum total effect was to arouse in him a compassionate tenderness and eagerness to please Dee that was foreign to the nature of the man he knew as Vanderbilt Manor. Heretofore, invariably, and in keeping with all the common but deplorable practices of the male sex partner seeking gratification for himself only, Van realized as he reclined lightly atop his sister that, inexplicably, his needs were taking a secondary place in his mind, that unless he served Dee well, to the utmost of his ability, and unless Dee received the ultimate in satisfaction from this first sexual encounter of theirs, he would be extremely disappointed with himself. A possible explanation for this so took him by surprise he removed his lips from her breast and stared upward into her lovely face.
"Yes, Van?" Dee murmured.
"Dee?" He frowned in concentration, seeking the right words.
"Yes?" She caressed his face dreamily and pushed a lock of hair back off his forehead.
"Dee-?" He paused again, still frowning. "Has it ever occurred to you that we, you and I, might be-might be-well, that we might be compatible psyches and not be aware of it? At the moment I can't think of more precise words. Compatible psyche will have to do."
Dee studied the face held between her palms with close interest, again remembering the dream in which she and her brother had engaged in a rapturous sexual experience, and after all physical aspects of the encounter had passed there had been that feeling of intimacy, that 'something' which, for lack of a better definition, she had always thought of as a spiritual orgasm.
"Why do you ask, dear?" she inquired quietly, suspecting she knew the cause of her brother's puzzlement. A strange, wondrous joy came alive inside her.
"I don't know. I-I'm not sure I-" A crooked grin of apology overspread Van's face. "But whatever it is, we'll discuss it later. Otherwise you might cool off."
Dee nodded, vastly anxious but willing to wait. "All right, Van." She cuddled her other breast in one hand and arched up a bit toward him. "Start here this time-Haaaah-haaaaah!" Again she gasped in erotic desperation as he promptly obeyed. "Haaammmmmm...."
Van tugged and sucked the plump, up-thrusting breast fruit in gentle fervor, his tongue pummeling its pinkish-tan crown, but at times deserting the crown to send his lips venturing over and around the silken mound of flesh as Dee continued to gasp and shiver. Due to their lengthwise position, Van between her raised knees, his rigid cock angled upward between their bodies, the great blood-bloated head of it pressing against the crinkly golden fleece of her front pelvic area.
"Ayeeeee-God!" She breathed hotly, stroking his hair and squirming her pleasure mound in tiny moves against his cock in blissful enchantment. Abruptly she stopped, pressed her buttocks into the bed to remove the pressure of her mound against his prick, and became still. Another move or so and her loins would burst aflame in raging orgasm which, if possible, she hoped to delay until Van's mouth reached her pussy.
And his mouth was headed in the right direction, for Van deserted her breasts and elbowed himself down in the bed to a position wherein the flawless expanse of her tummy and pleasure mound were within easy reach of his mouth. The surface of her tummy twitched excitedly under the attack, and Dee groaned in helpless passion, clinching her blue eyes against the onslaught of good sensations as his educated tongue and lips commenced licking and laving her silken flesh, gradually working lower in the golden crinkles, the hot, impudent tongue edging always closer toward the top of her cleft. Dee's chest was beginning to heave when Van caught her eye and motioned with a hand to one of the numerous pillows at the head of the bed. Dee understood perfectly, and Van withdrew only seconds while she folded the pillow, raised her hips off the bed and worked it under her buttocks. Results of this move elevated her loins seven or eight inches off the bed, and when she drew her thighs back toward her shoulders, her crotch faced the ceiling, which placed her vagina in a marvelous accessible position for her brother's endeavor. Stationed on his elbows as Van was, the only thing necessary to reestablish contact was for him to lower his face half an inch or so, which he did.
"Sssssssss!" Breath hissed from Dee's trembly lips with the sound of a punctured gas bag as Van began to wetly lick and suck those sensitive inside areas of her thighs adjacent to her vagina, which he avoided at the onset, but again gradually began working his tongue closer and closer. And each fraction of distance covered toward its destination, Dee's response grew more intense and pronounced. When once more the torturing tongue's tip probed into the shielding mass of hair, her golden head rolled from side to side, both up-thrusting breasts jiggling in accompaniment.
Once or twice Van's senses swam threateningly-the aphrodisiacal essence of his sister's vagina almost more than he could endure and retain consciousness. His entire body from the neck down was taut as a drawn bow and his big cock pressed between the bed and his belly throbbed in such protest at being ignored his nuts ached painfully. Scant inches below his chin nestled the puckered rose of her anus. It blinked rapidly in excited invitation as he began caressing it softly with a forefinger.
"Haaaaa-huk!" The sound ejaculated from Dee's heaving chest at the first touch of Van's tongue on the exterior surface of her flower-like cuntal mouth. "Uuuuuugh-God!" she cried when the tip of the tongue commenced tracing up and down along that line created by the lips flanging together, searching for a point of entry. It found the point, one located equadistant between her clitoris and vulva sphincter, and-
"Oh-God-dear-sweet-God!" Dee whined desperately as the tongue probed its way into her labium majora and began to squirm eagerly up and down through the cleft. First up toward her clit, then down toward her cuntal opening went the wriggling tongue, stopping just short of each until at long last it hesitated at the latter, then squirmed its entire length inside her body. At the same time Van pressed the forefinger into her blinking anus, delicately worming it this way and that as it bored into the yielding, rubbery depths of her rectum.
The instant the squirming tongue slithered into her pussy Dee Manor began to lose control, and the finger worming about in her anus did nothing to help her to keep it. Her brother's tongue was not as long as that of Timmy Evers, but it was wider and thicker and trained by several years experience that gave it a ne plus ultra expertise even Timmy's instinctive knack for cunnilingus might be some time in acquiring.
"Guh!-Guh!-Gaaaaaaahhh...." The jerky, drawn-out cry from Dee's lips, which could have been the wail of a lost soul, heralded the head-on rush of her orgasm, and to prevent her unintentional escape should she become violent, Van slid a palm up to press firmly between the ripe breasts. This done, and keenly alert for signs of the orgasm's arrival, he set to work on his sister's delicious pussy with his tongue in deadly earnest, at the same time worming a second finger into her hot juicy rectum to join the first.
The final remnants of Dee's control began deserting her. Sensations produced by the tongue lashing about in her cunt; these sensations remarkably enhanced by the fingers working industriously in her tight asshole, smote her with a sudden all-over quiver as the orgasm in her loins poised to strike. A piteous, helpless whimper fluttered from her palsied lips, her eyes wandered vacandy, both hands making wane gestures of no meaning.
Suddenly Van felt the hesitant, preparatory tightening of her pussy grip at his tongue, and half a heartbeat later the circle of fiery female sex-flesh clamped down hard from all angles around his tongue. The flat, smooth plain of Dee's tummy quaked visibly, once, then small areas at various points over the plain began knotting violently into view and quickly disappearing.
Van jerked his tongue free and swiftly pounced on the timorous little peak of her clitoris at the apex of her cleft, seizing the super sensitive flesh between his lips and began belaboring it with his tongue at the precise instant that Dee's orgasm burst.
As with Van during their fellatio Dee, likewise, was too greatly in need of relief. She exploded into furious action. A harsh, guttural scream of raw lust tore from her throat, her eyeballs started from their sockets under the massive force of the sexual climax raging in her body, and the scream terminated with a jagged cough and a series of frightened yelps as she began to thrash wildly with both arms and legs, restricted only by her brother's hand pressing between her breasts. Van kept his face pressed into her crotch as he feasted voraciously at her pussy.
Van drooled and sucked at her spasming cunt like a ravenous beast until the moment her orgasm reached its apex, then concentrated on her clit, and the flaming flesh surrounding it, proceeding in a manner Dee had never before experienced and of which she was to learn only later. He broadened his tongue in the small valley formed by her labia, then dragged the comparatively rough upper surface of the tongue slowly over the madly pulsating clitoris. The difference in texture between the tongue's rougher surface and the electrified body of the extremely sensitized little passion spur magnified the bludgeoning raptures to a point of staggering ecstasy, and Dee was knocked virtually senseless back on the bed, a lovely, throbbing mass of orgasming female flesh.
"Ooo ooommmmm-God-ooooommmmm-God!"
Her entire body flushed a hot, delicate pink as her lids lowered and she rolled her head from side to side in a seizure of glossalia, babbling and chittering in mindless ecstasy as does the benevolently insane or the holy-roller submerged in a fit of religious fervor. And then her maiden juices burst their confinements, surged hotly in massive gushes into her vaginal passage toward the mouth of her womb, the expending surges causing her slender young body to jerk and start in soundless fluid explosions that gradually converted her insane babblings into distinguishable sighs and sobs and hot gaspy tremors of erotic bliss.
Not for an instant did Van desert his post, but continued the lavish attention of his tongue, all the while his fingers-three of them now-wormed back and forth in her anus, fucking her in the ass, and when the wealth of his sister's juices overflowed her vagina to ooze down over that brief distance to her anus, the fucking fingers grew slick with her cum.
A long, quiet sigh of pervading bliss escaped Dee and she opened her eyes when Van severed both connections. She studied his face intently in rapt wonder and affection, as though he were some heavenly being she had always known but was just now recognizing.
"How did I do for a starter, baby sister?" Van smiled warmly, pulling the folded pillow from under her buttocks.
A tremendous sigh of joy came from deep within Dee's chest and she returned his smile with a gladsome wrinkle of her nose.
"I'll tell you later," she said, moving toward the edge of the bed.
But she hadn't told him when they returned from washing up in the bathroom, hadn't told him because she couldn't find the right words to express herself properly, to accurately portray the deep-seated soul-satisfied happiness and contentment his blow-job had given her.
Van returned to the bed first and lay watching as she placed a couple of bath towels and a small jar of Vaseline on the night stand.
"Vaseline?" Van looked a question at his beautiful sister.
"For that big stallion-size prick of yours, dear," Dee giggled in girlish anticipation as she crawled onto the bed beside him. "Just in case. And the towels of course are to prevent this bed from being one big four-legged puddle of cum by the time we finish. If you cum each time the way you did when I sucked you, the room could be awash with the stuff by daybreak." Without further ado she straddled his thighs, facing him, and commenced coating the great ribbed shaft of his hard cock with the Vaseline.
"Jesus," Van mused quietly. "If Walter Harris could see you now-I wonder what his reaction would be."
CHAPTER TEN
If Walter Harris could have seen Dee Manor greasing her brother's big cock right then, he wouldn't have given a holy damn, for at the moment, down in the rumpus room, Walter Harris stood transfixed in the merciless grip of high-tension lust; his conscious awareness of anything extended no further than the little thirteen-year-old nymphette, Cynthia, whose soft fingers clasping his aching prick guided the bald glans toward the seething aperture of her hairless young pussy.
Cynthia worked her buttocks to the very edge of the table, resettled her shoulders against the wall and strained to draw her thighs farther apart and tighter back, then placed the tip of Harris' cock against the mouth of her virginal cunt, releasing him as he set his stance. Then, with palms bracing her firmly against the wall behind, the hazel eyes avidly on the point of coupling, she whispered lustfully: "All right, Walter, now put it in."
Harris looked down at the end of his huge hot cock blunted snugly against her naked infant pussy and realized that their sweaty efforts to couple on the divan had very nearly succeeded. His glans was actually imbedded in the mouth of her child's gash, the only remaining hindrance to complete penetration of the tight roll of foreskin circling his dick, which was little more than no hindrance at all.
"Walter?" The word was a puzzled plea. "Hurry."
Harris cupped his hands around behind her frail little buttocks and unknowingly grunted "Ngh!"
"Walllllllte-" Cynthia's wail was cut short by an angrily clinching jaw. "Walter!" she spat in furious impatience. "Put it in! Goddamn it, fuck me! Ouch!--gahhhhhhh!"
Cynthia boggled down at the thick roll of rigid male sex flesh, half of which at Harris' thrust had vanished from sight into her body. It looked as if a fleshy stump with dangling balls attached were growing from her cunt. A swift, stifling surge of fierce exultation smote her.
It was done! Walter's prick had finished what the slender vibrator had only begun-and her despicable, disgusting goddamn maidenhead was destroyed forever! Now she no longer needed to masturbate. Now she could fuck at will without impunity, and be fucked by any man she chose to share herself with. Then her exultation was joined by humble thanksgiving. Tears welled in her eyes.
"Oooooooh, Walter," she sobbed in gratitude. "Ooooh, Walter. Ohhhoooooooo...." Her voice trailed off as Harris gently eased his loins forward.
Cynthia ogled down at their joined flesh, for the moment paralyzed by fascination, not breathing as the visible section of the hefty cock eased gradually from sight within her tiny cunt. And as she sat there on the table watching herself be penetrated by a huge male cock for the first time, a certain intuition told her all the numerous orgasms enjoyed with the vibrator earlier in the day, if they could be rolled into one, they could never equal the fabulous cum she was soon to receive.
Her mouth went slack, her hazel eyes riveted on their coupled genitalia, on the white, barren lips of her pussy circling tightly around the enormous prick that was slowly engorging them. And with each additional fraction the prick entered her, she became aware of a growing-fullness sensation in her belly. After the initial sting of pain, when Walter had first thrust his popping dick into her, there had been no pain; nothing but the increasing fullness overshadowed by sensations so incredibly good she made no attempt to understand them. She raised her face, loose and flushed with lust, to look at Harris.
"It's good, Walter," she sobbed. "It's good, good...."
"Oh God," Harris gritted in tortured restraint. In spite of the powerful urge to ram his rod home and commence fucking violently, he had not done so, and would not until she had taken the full length of his long fat cock at least once. But ahhh, dear bleeding Jesus it was not easy to hold a tight rein as he stood there pressing his man-size sex-flesh into the juicy, delicious hotness of her naked little girl pussy. His balls throbbed madly, his asshole squeezed tight enough to bite a steel banjo string in two-and the fierce tightness of her nymphian twat creeping along his fat rod in proportion to its deeper penetration was enough to crack the mind. Steamy vapors of powerfully smelling lust rose from their joined sex organs, and the maiden freshness of Cynthia's sex aroma in his nostrils brought a primitive growl of salivaring lust rumbling from his chest.
Cynthia brought her legs down, clasped her soft young thighs around Harris' waist and pressed her heels into his back above the buttocks. Then she pushed herself into an upright sitting position and placed her hands on his hips.
"Walter, please," she whispered. "Don't be so easy. I'm not a child, but a woman. Go ahead and put your cock in and do it to me." To encourage him she pressed with her heels, pulled with her hands and, looking down, felt a quick expansion of the full sensation in her lower belly and saw the remaining portion of the thick, veined male prick pass from sight into her velvety slick vagina. A tremulous whimper fluttered from her throat as she continued to stare downward, Harris' stiff pubic hairs prickling the unprotected flesh of her pussy.
"Now fuck me," she pleaded hoarsely. "Fuck me good."
Harris obeyed, though her invitation was totally unnecessary. No force on earth could have prevented his fucking her. He widened his legs to stabilize his stance and let his balls swing free, and began a moderately paced in-out action, which was also unnecessary. Titillation had been too intense and too prolonged. He was already climaxing.
Rapt gaze never wavering, Cynthia stared down in dumb fascination at the hefty male sex-meat pistoning in sweet magic back and forth in her vagina-and dear Walter's big hairy nuts swinging in counter-rhythm below the edge of the table. If Aunt Dee-Cynthia's head jerked up in surprise at the suddenly increased hotness in her belly. The hotness blossomed swiftly into liquid fire while she gaped in dismay at Harris' contorted, passion-warped face, realizing the truth.
"Oh, Walter," she cried softly in joyous surprise. "You're cumming." She released him with her thighs, again drew her knees wide and far back, but held onto his waist to steady herself on her buttocks, and once more focused her hazel eyes down on their genitalia. Evidence of the accuracy of her statement that Harris was cumming was unmistakable. Not only could she feel the jarring note of each additional charge gushing forth, but even as she watched the hard prick nudging industriously into her body, the charge multiplied into an overabundance, and before her very eyes the surplus came into view.
"Oh, Jesus!" she whined in ecstasy as the collar of gray goo rushed out of her pussy around the invading meat. At the termination of each withdrawal, during that tiny instant before Walter pushed the meat back into her vagina, an additional rush of goo appeared, was squeegeed off the advancing prick by the tight fit of her cunt, then coursed in a thick rivulet slowly down the cleavage of her flesh to puddle at her asshole on the table.
"Ooooomm, mer-mer-merciful J-Jesus," she quavered, clutching his naked body to her, feeling her own orgasm marshalling its forces-it struck with sudden, stunning brutality.
Ordinarily a person of Cynthia's volatile erotic nature would have cum before Harris, but Cynthia had been too enraptured by the simple mechanics of her first fucking. She was at the time somewhat less than acutely sensitive to the prime mover of copulation itself as it applied to her, and therefore was unaware that her orgasm threatened until it struck with a deep, internal body blow that jarred her from head to toe.
"Uugnff!" The gruff sound of surprise was shocked from her throat. Masturbatory climaxes were one thing, vibrator climaxes were another, but the violent orgasmic fit resulting from the hard male cock pistoning sweetly into her cunt was a happening her wildest sex fantasies could never have imagined. Her engorged snatch spasmed wildly, viciously, bit down on Harris's fuck meat with alarming strength. Harris grunted in surprise, pulled her close, drove his slime-coated cock hilt-deep into her convulsing belly and held on, squirming it around inside her body as young Cynthia Manor went temporarily insane from the rapid succession of lust-bombs triggered by the maddening prick.
"Eeeeeeek-He!-He-He!" She clamped arms and legs crab-like onto Harris, nails digging dark red weals in his back. She snarled, spat, snapped at his chest with her teeth, then went into a strange erotic jiggle, Harris hard put to keep them coupled, neither aware they had moved away from the table.
"OooooooAaaaaaa!" Cynthia sobbed in a frenzy of lust. "OooooooAhhhhhh!" and she clutched Harris desperately, doing her little jiggling dance on his prick all the while, as he commenced to wander about the room, small-hunching into the struggling girl as gooey aftermath of their union oozed down his legs.
"Uh-Ha! Uh-Ha!" Cynthia panted, licking and biting his chest in a paroxysm of lust. Belatedly she cried wanely: "I'm kuh-kuh-cummmmmiiiiinng." Then, gripping Harris tighter, jiggling harder: "And I ca-ca-can't stop!"
They were fortunate Harris' wanderings had taken them to the divan, for suddenly Harris' trembly legs gave way and they tumbled down onto the plastic surface where they had been before. The fall broke their coupling and there followed a few desperate, maniacal seconds before he scrambled back into the saddle, hunching his gooey cock back into her blindly. Luck was with them. The bald head of his cock unerringly found the mark.
"Gnnff!" Cynthia grunted when the huge slick prick popped back into her famished belly. Then "Sssssssssss!" she gasped in wild erotic luxury as she angled her crotch in line with the prick and Harris began to pound into her with seed-bull vigor, slamming each shot home as if it were to be his last, Cynthia fielding the shots with the adroitness of a professional, seething young pussy munching on the pumping male sex-meat with gluttonous greed.
Outside the rumpus room window, General Erwin Harper Spaatz had pawed the gravel till his fingers bled, though he did not know this. Collections of foam showed at each corner of his flaccid mouth and his tongue, purple and grisly, hung out of his mouth, following somewhat the movements of a clapper of a bell as the mighty hunches with which Boffo belabored his backside held firm for more bear cock. Spaatz had long since lost all interest in the goings-on in the rumpus room-the bear's knobby prick had him floundering in a morass of depraved lust-and he was ignorant of the fucking frenzy that had befallen Walter Harris and thirteen-year-old Cynthia Manor!
Harris fucked like a madman into the daughter he didn't know was his, and the daughter, equally ignorant that it was her father's prick that again stoked a second orgasm in her virginal loins, that it was her father's balls that smote her exposed anus with delicious fervor, squirmed and clawed and fought beneath him in greedy lust.
It was a scene the rumpus room had never before witnessed.
Upstairs in Dee Manor's bedroom, a similar scene which the bedroom had likewise never witnessed was about to transpire.
Dee had taken her time in greasing her brother's enormous prick with Vaseline: the minutes had fled unnoticed during a period of small talk, but at last she wiped her hands on one of the towels and winked at Van brightly.
"There now, dear brother," she smiled affectionately. "We're all ready for my transfusion."
Van Manor eyed the lubricated enormity of his cock reflectively as she swung from astride his legs and lay down beside him on the bed. "Are you positive all that gook is necessary?" Though he sometimes found it essential, he didn't like to use slickum during sexual intercourse. It reduced the level of desirable friction, which was what it was all about to begin with, so to speak.
"I hope it isn't necessary," Dee replied honestly. "Why don't we find out?"
She raised her thighs to clasp his waist when he rolled over atop her, snugged them close as he sent a hand down between their loins.
"Aaaahhhhhhh," she sighed hotly, moving her straddle minutely to assist as the great blunt head of her brother's greased prick searched among the golden crinkles of her cunt. "Ahhhhh-mmmmm," she gasped blissfully, the torrid kiss of the hot glans' tip against the inflamed mouth of her timorous pussy sending hoards of prickles of lust tingling over her flesh. Aahhhh God, but it was good to be alive.
Van settled himself comfortably in the cradle of her thighs and brought his lips down on hers in a lingering, luxuriant kiss of tender meaning. This day, the day of his first sexual encounter with his lovely sister, would live in his memory forever and, he hoped, was only the first of many such fuck-filled encounters. Their lips parted and for some seconds they lay motionless, eyes locked in an emotion neither was sure of understanding. Then Van tightened his stance to ease the enormous cock up into his sister's belly.
At first Dee only started small, blue eyes going large as she pressed both hands downward on his hips to halt the advance.
"Van-Van." She spoke quickly in alarm. "Wait a second, lover."
Van paused while his sister maneuvered her hips to an angle that placed her vaginal passage in direct line with the axis of his prick. To Van it felt as if a tight, hot collar of flesh had suddenly been clamped around the end of his cock-her pussy was that tight. His asshole blinked rapidly in erotic excitement.
"Now," she breathed against his cheek, eyes still large with concern. "Now try again. But slowly; please, Van."
Once more he tightened his body, easing his hips forward.
"No!-No!-No!" Dee's protest barked around the room, and she lay looking up at her brother with something very close akin to fear in her eyes. "Van, I-"
Van lifted the pressure of his weight from her body until their flesh, except for the genitalia, touched only lightly. He frowned in dismay down at the lovely face beneath him. "Could it be you can't take me?" He only said it to lessen her concern. He knew she could take him-he had been faced with this same problem in the past with other sex partners, and always proceeded on the logic that the female vagina, designed by nature to permit the passage of an aborning infant could, with patience and care, adjust itself to accommodate the entirety of his enormous cock. He was certain it would prove so again. At the outset Cousin Nettie's vagina had been too small for his finger. When their session ended she was galloping under him like a bronco buster and crying for more.
"Van-I-you-we-" The apprehension in Dee's eyes was unmistakable.
"Easy, sweetness." Van licked her ripe lips, then slithered his tongue between them, letting her suck on it for a while, during which time he made no attempts to penetrate her further. In such cases as this, the thing to guard against was permitting the girl to become unduly alarmed. "Don't be alarmed," he whispered. "I won't hurt you, won't harm you. We'll quit if you want."
"Oh no," Dee replied quickly. "I don't want to stop. It's-" She gave a shaky little laugh. "My God, you do have a cock like a stallion's. No wonder it took so long with Cousin Nettie."
"Let your legs down behind mine," he said. "And we'll just lay here and talk a while." He chewed her lower lip with both of his as she lowered her feet to the backs of his thighs, then he eased his weight down against her again, the move creating a small friction between the tightly gripped head of his prick and the steamy female flesh gripping it, almost causing him to cum. He was in nowise certain he wouldn't cum before he got all his long slick cock in her tight hole anyway.
"I never dreamed I couldn't take your cock," she said. "Not until I awakened this afternoon and saw you standing naked beside the bed.
Van nuzzled his lips, her eyes, her nose, her cheeks, then grinned hugely. "You've been messing around too long with the undersized peckers over at the Academy."
"And who've you been talking to, Mister Smarty?" Dee said and grinned.
"I was only guessing," Van answered truthfully. "Honest, I wouldn't pry into your sex life."
Dee studied his face in silence, trying to make up her mind if she should tell him deciding that any relationship that ripened between her and her brother would best do so on a foundation of mutual confidence and understanding. And Dee fervently wanted such a relationship to ripen. At the moment, and not certain she would be able to let him finish fucking her, she already was beginning to feel groping wisps of that emotion she defined as spiritual orgasm-Van even suggested they might be compatible psyches!
"You're a good guesser, Van," she murmured against his mouth. "General Spaatz and I have an understanding. I invite his youngsters over from the Academy for a bedroom frolic quite often." Had she expected a negative response from her brother she would have been disappointed. Van merely nodded in complete understanding.
"I don't blame you, sis," he said. "In your place I'd do the same-exactly." A huge grin broke over his face-their small talk was doing the job of relaxing her. Any time now...."What a pity there isn't a girl's academy of some sort nearby also. It'd save me a lot of scrounging around."
"Poo," Dee grinned in return, delighted by his sincere acceptance of her disclosure. "If there's any truth to the rumors I hear, you never scrounge unless it's a fresh conquest."
"Have you ever fucked Walter Harris?"
Dee shook her head against the pillow. "I could have; I'm sure of it. But I'd rather wait to see if I fall in love with him. I suspect he's of the same mind. He's never tried to make me." Unconsciously Dee squirmed her crotch minutely against the big firm presence gorging the mouth of her womb. "I'll bet it's stretched out of proportion," she sniggered impulsively. "Are you coming to my birthday party tomorrow? There'll be only me, Cynthia and some of the boys from the Academy."
"Are they some of the lads you've had here in bed?"
"Yes. And if it weren't for Cynthia, we'd have a nude party-but I'll chase her to bed early."
Van kissed the tip of his sister's nose. "Can I try again?"
Dee acquiesced with her eyes. "Only go easy; please. There's something disconcerting about having that huge thing of yours rammed up into me all at once."
Van did not reply to this, but instead gathered his muscles and very, very gently began applying pressure with his hips, increasing the pressure only the tiniest fraction at a time as very, very slowly his big greasy cock moved forward into his sister's fiery belly. God A'Mighty, but her cunt was tight!
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"No!" Dee seized handfuls of his rib-flesh, lips drawn back in a grimace of pain, shapely legs coming up to hang suspended high and wide against a bursting feeling in her vagina. It wasn't pain she felt-not exactly. There was no bite or sting or burn one generally associates with pain. Only that tight, hard fullness one might relate to a bursting caused by internal forces striving to expand. "Just a minute," she gasped, chest heaving, eyes locked with her brother's. "I-Whew! It feels as if I'm about to explode down there. I-" a note of pleading crept into her tone, for she was abruptly cognizant of the fact that more than anything she had ever wanted or was ever likely to want out of life was for her and her brother to accomplish to the ultimate satisfaction of both precisely what they had set out to accomplish. "Van, please, darling, don't lose patience with me."
Van studied his sister's face intently, looked deep into the crystal clear blueness of her eyes from close-up, saw in their azure depth the fierce yearning of her desires-and felt within his own body a revitalizing of those emotions that had haunted him since that day they had capered naked at the pool. It was true, then-could it be true? Were they compatible psyches? Was it possible that their two bodies were shared by the same soul?
Van shook his head roughly to clear his mind. My God! He was supposed to be concentrating on fucking his sister, but-
"What is it, Van?" Dee whispered throatily.
"Nothing." He gave her a flimsy grin, determined to think no more on the subject of compatible psyches. "I'm only put out with myself that you should even consider I might lose patience."
"You won't, then?" the hope in her voice was unmistakable.
"I couldn't. You know that. How does it feel now?"
"It-well-I don't feel so much on the verge of bursting."
Van lowered his face and rested a cheek against hers, waiting. Half the length of his cock was now buried in his sister's hot sex-flesh, and he would be patient. If it killed him, he would be patient, for suddenly, again, he became conscious of a powerful desire still so hazy in concept it left him a mite flabbergasted. Always before with a woman he thought of pleasing himself, but now, without warning, he found himself thinking only of pleasing Dee. If this current coupling resulted in only one cum, he wanted that cum to be his sister's.
Yet despite his wants, Van realized abruptly this was not to be. Not exactly. Dee's needs would be served; of this he was determined, but he had been teetering too long on the verge of orgasm since first his cock had kissed her pussy. Nor had anything taken place that might alter the situation. He might cum any instant. The tight moist grip of Dee's torrid cunt clutching the fore-half of his cock convinced him of it-and even as this conviction registered on his consciousness, his orgasm made its bid for expression.
"Van." Dee's hushed whisper barely reached across the scant distance separating her lips from his ear. "Try it once again, dear."
Van's only vocal response was a harsh, ragged sob of exploding male lust. His body stiffened, quaked visibly from the power of the orgastic assault, and Dee took his warped, passion conjested face between her palms, staring up in surprise and alarm-and then she felt the hot cum boiling out of his prick into her vagina and knew the answer. A rich, heady wave of intense joy rolled over her naked body and she reacted with the inveterate feminine instincts inherited by her sex from Mother Eve.
"Oh, Van darling," she cried softly, circling his neck with both arms, clasping his waist with her satiny thighs and drawing him close. She held him tenderly, luxuriating beyond imagining at the pervading sensation of joyous fulfillment as her brother growled and snorted and gnashed his teeth, his great wealth of fiery man-seed gushing into her hungry, receptive womb.
Dee lay in wide-eyed wonder, looking up at the ceiling, stroking the back of Van's head and neck, unknowingly making tiny greedy motions with her cunt around the erupting cock, and the motions triggered a resurgence of the orgasm. Aside from these moves Dee lay motionless, feeling her belly swell imperceptibly as plethoric gushes of cum glutted her vagina and drenched her uterus-thank God for the Pill!-until her secret places were flooded beyond capacity and additional measures of cum overflowed out around Van's prick, soaking the lower extremities of her vaginal hairs and creeping down the crevice of her spread buttocks. Her wide eyes remained on the ceiling, her lovely face a portrait of breathless wonder. She felt none of those spastic, tingling pleasures attended to the sexual orgasm, but she was becoming aware that the rapturous sensations she privately defined as spiritual orgasm were about to steal over her.
"Oh, my darling-darling Van," she sobbed in quiet ecstasy, attempting to bring their naked bodies closer as Van continued to growl and grunt and the male sex-meat thrusting through the golden crinkles of her straddle continued to pump its gooie wealth in silent hot convulsions into her turgid pussy.
Dear heavens, she smiled in blissful serenity; would he never stop cuming? Van had more cum than Boffo! Already it had oozed down the cleavage of her buttocks and Van's testicles to puddle on the bed where-Dismay flickered across her face. Van's testicles? She squirmed her rear experimentally, feeling to make sure. It was true! Her brother's hairy, oversized nuts rested wetly in the crack of her behind. She smiled, her face aglow with gladness. Without their realizing it, during Van's grunting, quaking, cuming seizure and while she caressed and snuggled under him, without causing any discomfort the big prick had surreptitiously sneaked its great bulk and length to the uttermost fraction into her unsuspecting belly.
A deep, terminal quake released Van from the orgasm and he lay still on her, gasping, with Dee cuddling close until he raised to his elbows and gave her an embarrassed grin.
"I-I'm sorry, Sis, for cuming-"
"Poo to you, kind sir." Dee grinned and kissed him hungrily. "Feel." She wriggled her hips, then pretended prettily to pout in accusation. "See what happened while you were enjoying yourself?"
Van grinned. "Well I'll be damned. It's all the way in."
"It's not all that's in, you-you tank car of cum." Dee giggled loudly. "I bet I slosh when I walk. So there!" Then her gladness bubbled over and she grabbed him around the neck, and in a paroxysm of fierce joy, covered his face with kisses. After this she placed her palms against his shoulders. "Now back it out, Mr. Tank Car, so I can get rid of this car load. My God, I bet my liver drowns."
She swung both legs straight up, grunting at the unexpected feeling of vacancy in her lower tummy when Van hauled the big root from her engorged pussy with savoring slowness, and was successful in keeping her straddle up-angled until she elbowed her way to the edge of the bed. But success deserted her at the bedroom door. She lost the tight clinch on her vulva sphincter and stood there in shivering delight, glaring at her brother in mock chagrin as thick slugs of his still hot cum burpled from her pussy and rolled stickily down her thighs.
They showered together in hilarious high spirits, then changed the soiled coverings on the bed.
"Do I use the Vaseline this time?" Van asked when they finished. She stood at the nightstand, the jar of petroleum jelly in one hand.
"I-" Dee frowned, pondering the question. "Do you think we should?"
Van said nothing; this was something for his sister alone to decide.
"Well-" Dee eyed the big male organ in unfeigned admiration. It jutted up from his crotch, anxious and perky, stiff as when she'd been speared on it. She walked around the bed to where Van stood and took the jar from his hand. "No," she said. "You don't use it." She cocked a leg upon the bed and dipped her fingers lightly into the ointment. "But I will. A little. I'll be a bit dry from the douche and all for a while." She twitched her hips and drew her fingers with the Vaseline delicately through her labium majora, anointing the mouth of her womb, then inserting the fingers and moving them around carefully to lubricate the first inch or so of her cuntal passage. "There now," she said and smiled. "That should do it." She smacked his cock playfully and leaped onto the bed with gay laughter. "This time, brother mine, I cum also." She rolled into position as Van stepped onto the bed and dropped to his knees between her out-flung legs.
Dee's accessment of her vaginal condition was accurate; the recent douche had removed the normal lubricating fluids, and though her body would replace them within a matter of minutes, she was feverishly anxious to once again become solidly coupled with her brother. Also, the extent to which the douche had washed away the fluids did not become evident until Van's blood-bloated glans was once more in the tight grip of her inflamed pussy, and by that time neither wanted to stop and start over. And so, with much straining, grunting, grimacing and gritting of teeth, they at last managed to get the forehalf of Van's enormous prick inside her body. There the struggle stopped. Van stopped it.
"We'll wait," he panted against her parted lips. "Otherwise you'll be sore as a boil."
"It won't be long." Dee felt guilty over her inability to receive him properly, and bit her lip in self-anger. Then, miraculously, the warm fluidity of her renewed seepage appeared in her tummy and she seized him with hot thighs. "Now try it," she purred happily. "Go slowly but try it-I'll help. We'll make it this time."
And they did. With her squirming and twisting her cunt around the pressing, small-hunching cock, the big instrument soon nudged the limit into her body. She gave a deep, trembly sigh of relief.
"Whew! Am I ever glad that's over-we've done it again." A hot blush of lust tinted her body a pale pink and she loosed a gusty moan of contentment, her tone changing as tears of pleasure stung her eyes. "Oh, God," she whispered feverishly. "It feels so good I don't know if I can stand it." She put a hand on her throat. "Wiggle your prick a little. I think I feel it up here."
Despite the lust clouds gathered on their horizon, Van could not restrain a big grin.
"No, honestly!" Dee insisted seriously. "I'm not joking. I feel like alike a long section of intertube packed with soft cement." She maneuvered her hips experimentally, eyes fixed on Van's, working mem carefully in various directions, and caught her breath sharply from the avalanche of good sensation caused by the big prick moving amongst her secret places. Again the warm fluidity appeared in her lower tummy and her now copious lubricating fluids seep forth abundantly, entwining the hairs of their locked genitals.
"Aaaaaaaahhh-God!" she burst out. "It feels so good I might die." She gave her brother a quick double-take. "Can a person cum hard enough to stop their heart from beating?" A tiny puzzled frown flitted across her beautiful features. "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Van frowned also, listening intently. "Somebody down in the rumpus room? Perhaps it's Cynthia."
Dee said yes with her eyes. "But what would Cynthia be doing down in the rumpus room at this hour of the night?"
"Maybe doing the same thing we are."
"Cynthia?" Dee demanded.
"Whether you've noticed it or not, baby sister, our little Cynthia is no longer a child," Van said gently. "And it's got to happen some time."
"Yes," Dee sighed somewhat heavily. Their little niece was rapidly blooming into womanhood. She'd been aware of it for some time. "She's been taking birth control pills on the sly for weeks now. It's just that ... "
Van squirmed his hips, gently stirring about the big cock sunk in his sister's belly, and Dee promptly forgot about their niece and the rumpus room. In fact, she forgot everything but one-a sudden, solid conviction she was in for the fuck of her life. She was not mistaken.
She fitted herself up against her brother, snugged their bodies close as Van couched their loins together hotly, eased his prick into the utmost fraction, then began a barely perceptible small-hunching action that seemed in reality to Dee more like his prick was engaged in a vigorous throbbing. A small whimper of helplessness fluttered from her throat.
"Ahhhhhh," she sighed, tears of bliss springing to her eyes-the conviction she was about to be fucked as never before grew more solid. "Ahhhhhh-Van, how truly sw-sw-sweet." A series of shallow sobs broke from her lips as the orgasm in her loins, nudged by the big prick, quivered awake. "No!" she gasped desperately, "Not yet!" Then she commenced to struggle with herself at the goodness mushrooming in her belly, wanting to prolong the fuck, knowing as Van lengthened his stroke a bit her hope was a losing battle. "Oh-Van! Oh-Van!"
Van Manor gave a startled-stud whinny as inner muscles of his sister's vagina commenced to munch gently on his prick.
Breath rattled in Dee's constricted throat. She felt as though she was going to burst with a wildly bursting sensation and her pussy adopted a pre-orgasmic, numbing glow.
"It's good!" she gasped tearfully. "Good, good!"
Van growled in agreement. Never before had he ever had his cock in a more delectable pussy.
"Ahhhhhh-Van! Ahhhhhh-Van!" Dee's hands searched frantically without pattern, wanting to feel his flesh, over his back, his hips, his buttocks, and again Van whinnied as one dainty finger forged between the cheeks of his rear and located his asshole.
With stark, awesome clarity, Dee Manor knew the enormous male sex organ stuffing her belly would blow her mind. She felt it in her bones; in the very air she breathed.
"Ooooommmmmmm-ah, Van-Van-Van." The expression was uttered in a sort of sing-song litany in rhythm with the wondrous bumping of the great hairy balls in the spread cleavage of her buttocks. Each time the testes smote her anus, soundless 'puff broke from her lips. Dee's eyes began to glaze. She burst into incoherent babbles, "Obdly-obdly-obdly," ending with swift, gusty: ' Ay ieeeeeem otherfuck-me."
Sparks of lust raced between Van's nuts, and each time his scrotum gently bumped against his sister's puckered rosebud, an additional wave of passion surged from his loins. Mother of God, whatta cum this was gonna be! For a third time he lengthened his stroke, advanced from a medium action to slow, deep thrusts, each time withdrawing his cock from her madly munching pussy to the glans, then gliding it forward as far as humanly possible. Dee's lymphatic secretions were more than plentiful now", their pubic hairs were matted.
Van found his sister's lips, glued their mouths together and they swapped tongues, each sucking the others, lids lowered in breathless passion, neither of them a nuance of any fuck-cycle.
"Ooooooommmmmm-ah," Dee sighed in mounting rapture when Van ended the kiss. "It's going to be a short fuck."
"I know," Van grunted. "Are you about to cum?"
"I can't help it!"
"Don't try to stop it. Let it happen."
"I ca-can't help it!" A resonant, full-bodied vibration shivered through Dee. "It's about to happen. You?"
Van's grunt this time was affirmitive. His balls were about to explode-he couldn't help it either.
Without warning, he began to slam his shots home with sledge-hammer force, great thick globs of cum charging from his nuts, roaring sweet pain through the connecting tube of sex-meat to bludgeon against his sister's cunt walls.
A garbled, guttural scream of delicious agony erupted from Dee's throat. Flaming surges of ecstasy exploded in her loins. The next instant she began to cum like a broken oil main. The ravishing bliss attendant to the orgasm blocking further screams and racking her mind.
"Oh God!-Ah!-ooommmm God!" she panted wildly, her soft lips forming odd, meaningless shapes as her face warped from a thousand pressures into a mask of primitive lust. Her fair complexion took on the deep rich pink of violent sexual climax. "Deeper!" she shrieked. "Fuck deeper! Fuck harder! Deeper! Harder! Faster-faster!" And then, as though in effort to express the inexpressible depths and intensity of her raging passions, there began to pour from her mouth every utterance in a broad lexicon of profanity.
"Fuck harder! Deeper! Faster!" she snarled viciously. A second later the ecstasy of the seizure overcame the raw violence of its initial appearance and she was suddenly more in contact with reality.
"Ooooommmmmm-Van-Van-Van," she cooed sweetly against his open, misshapen mouth. "I'm kuh-kuh-cummmmmmmmiiiiiiiig, cummmmmmmiiiiiinnngg-ooooooaaaaa." Tender sounds of no meaning outside the love act bubbled from her ripe lips as she twisted and squirmed in fierce rapture on the big cock skewering her, bucking and lunging like an unbroken filly beneath her brother as his bloated balls thumped a ragged tattoo against her anus, pumping the yangy bolts into her spasming loins until her pussy was glutted with cum.
They lay panting in blissful precognition of things to come when the seizure faded. Rapturous as the double-orgasm had been, they both knew it was only the forerunner of more and greater raptures to come. In view of this knowledge they didn't even separate or change positions, but lay close, bodies tightly snugged one into the other, glorying in the glowing aftermath until they recovered sufficiently to begin all over again. Van was about to commence his action again when Dee stopped him.
"Listen," she whispered. "Down in the rumpus room again. Do you hear it?"
"Could it be Cynthia and some of the youngsters from the Academy?"
"I-wouldn't think so," Dee replied with a puzzled little frown. "She considers them all babies, says they're too immature."
"Shall we go have a look?"
"No," Dee replied quickly, wrinkling her nose up at her brother in a happy grin. She squirmed her hot pussy against the thick roll of turgid male sex-flesh buried in it. "There's no time. Right now we have fucking to do."
CHAPTER TWELVE
Several hours passed before they finished fucking. And then, each cell of their bodies saturated with sexual satiation, they went to sleep.
The sun was at its zenith when Dee awakened. Beside her Van slept like a dead man. He had hardly moved since dropping off. But something in the house moved, and that something was not the maid, Sarah Dow, because last week Sarah had been told to take Dee's birthday anniversary off-Sarah Dow was not in the house. Besides, Sarah never went downstairs without permission, and the sounds came from the rumpus room. Dee eased off the bed and drew the housecoat about her shoulders.
When she returned to her bedroom a somewhat hectic and disturbing hour later, she sat in silence on the edge of the bed a long time studying her bare feet reflectively.
Walter Harris and her niece Cynthia Manor had only shortly before emerged from the shower and, as she had descended into the rumpus room, the first thing Dee saw was the naked Walter leaning back against the pool table gnashing his teeth in a paroxysm of lust while an equally naked Cynthia knelt in front of him, sucking his rigid cock like a ravenous vacuum cleaner.
And that's when things got a bit hectic.
Dee sighed resignedly, raised her eyes to look at her brother sprawled asleep on his back, and a tiny smile tilted the corners of her ripe mouth. Again the resigned sigh, though less heavily this time, and reached forward to tickle the flaccid tube of Van's cock.
"Van. Come alive. I've got something to tell you."
"Wuff!" Van Manor awakened quickly. "Huh?"
"That was Cynthia making the noise downstairs last night. Cynthia and Walter Harris."
"Walter? And Cynthia? Fucking?" All remnants of sleep dissipated as Van sat up, grinning hugely. "Walter and little Cyn. Fancy that, will you? I told you Cyn would be going around the block sometime soon."
"Did it have to be with her father?"
Van jerked bolt upright. "No! Well I be goddamned!" He burst into a roar of laughter. "Jesus! Wait till they find out."
"They've already found out." Dee smiled ruefully.
"What was their reaction?" Van waited breathlessly. With Cyn suddenly fuckable, it offered possibilities.
"The same as yours. Laughter. And they kept at it. Walter had to go and Cynthia was giving him a farewell blow-job for the day when I went downstairs." Then Dee told her brother of the letter Harris had delivered to their niece, the letter revealing Walter Harris as Cynthia's father.
"Well, I'll be goddamned," Van repeated. "And it didn't make any difference that they're father and daughter?"
Dee shook her golden head. "It jarred me. At first. Until I realized it made no difference that you and I are brother and sister." She shrugged philosophically. "Cynthia has her own life to live and I'm not going to judge either her or Walter. I think you and I should only guide Cynthia to prevent her getting hurt."
Van nodded quickly in approval. "Like how?"
"Like now," Dee laughed warmly, standing and letting the housecoat slip to the floor. "Walter's gone, but Timmy Evers, Roger Bruce and Milton Burack have arrived for my birthday party. They're all four downstairs right now in a lather for a sex hassle."
Van guffawed. "Fucking?"
"Perhaps not yet. Cynthia was teasing Timmy Evers when I came up. And she wants to know about the sandwich. Let's go downstairs."
"Timmy Evers!" Cynthia stormed in pretentious despair as they entered the rumpus room. "Quit being so military! You can't fuck standing at attention! Relax!" She turned toward the stairs. "Aunt Dee, make this bumbling nincompoop-Oh; hi, Uncle Van-Make this bumbling nincompoop loosen up!"
Breath hissed quietly from Dee's parted lips and unconsciously the tip of her tongue darted out eagerly to moisten her lips as her eyes roved over the four youngsters, her gaze lingering hungrily on the crotches of Timmy, Roger and Milton. That old familiar yearning sprang full bloom into her throat with such force it ached.
"My God, Sis," Van asked quietly. "What's in the offing? An orgy?"
Dee grasped her brother's cock and pulled him toward the four youngsters beside the divan. "Yes," she whispered. "An orgy, only we're calling it my birthday party."
"Sheesh!"
"Aunt Dee-" Cynthia stopped in mid-breath, all interest in teasing Timmy further vanishing at sight of her uncle's genitals. She moved slowly, as one hypnotized, to where Dee and Van stopped beside the divan, her transfixed gaze on the throbbing cock in her aunt's grasp. A long, low hiss escaped her. "Aunt Dee, you said you'd teach me the sandwich." As one in a trance, she put forth a hand, took Van's cock from her aunt and began toying with the enormous rubbery snout of foreskin.
Dee relinquished her prize and sat down on the divan, her crystal clear blue eyes going from Roger Bruce to Milton Burack.
Roger Bruce was a rather gangling lad of fifteen with pleasant features and tow-colored hair, while his companion, dark hair and olive complexioned, also showed that awkwardness of youth emerging from adolescence, though neither evinced any self-consciousness or embarrassment over the circumstances of the fact that they were all nude. In spite of the difference of ten years in age, the interest of both lads was concentrated on their hostess; a point Cynthia became aware of the instant her aunt appeared.
"Rog?" Dee smiled. "Milton? Shall we show Cynthia, and Timmy, what the sandwich is?"
It was a credit to Dee's previous instructions in matters sexual that both boys responded with alacrity.
"Who gets on the bottom, Miss Manor?" Roger stepped forward eagerly. "You if you like."
With a gladsome sound, Roger flung himself down face up on the divan. Dee crawled astride him and motioned to Tommy Evers, laughing warmly.
"Timmy, you sit down on the divan with your crotch against the top of Roger's head." Her skin prickled at Roger's anxious efforts to hunch upward into her.
When Timmy obeyed, Dee winked at Milton Burack. "Milton, that leaves you only one port of call." A second later the olive complexioned lad straddled Roger's shins so close behind Dee she felt his breath against her naked back-and felt the satiny head of his hot hard cock searching between the sweaty cheeks of her ass.
"Gee," Cynthia breathed in admiration and envy, for the moment forgetting her uncle as she realized what was about to happen. "Geeeee...."
Dee leaned forward over Roger, the move bringing her face down against Timmy's boy smelly crotch, and a sudden violent shudder shook her visibly as she kissed Timmy's tasty foreskin, the zesty tang of young male genitals strong in her nostrils. Then came a gently flurry of nudges, shiftings and hunches, and she gurgled in fierce erotic joy as she eased lower, Roger squirming his cock up into her vagina. At the same time she grunted smally in approval as she felt the silent 'plop' of Milton's hard-on popping into her anus. Ahhhhh, dear god, how sweet it was.
She lowered her head further, slid the gossamer sheath of her hot lips down over Timmy's prick and commenced to suck greedily. Timmy squealed like a terrified rabbit at the deluge of good sensations and grabbed handfuls of her blonde tresses, grinding his teeth as Roger began to fuck upward and Milton's face contorted with lustful glee as he bored into her steamy asshole.
Ahhhhhhh, dear god! How sweet it was!
Cynthia Manor's nubile young body flushed a delicate pink and she licked her lips wetly, looking up at her uncle as she did so, then tugged him by the cock around to the opposite side of the divan.
"Come on, Uncle Van." Her voice was ragged with fierce wanting. "You've got to fuck me-quick!"
