"If you subscribe to Mietzsche's beliefs, the innate need of woman to forgive is her major weakness; if you prefer the philosophies of Kathleen Norris, you see this as a strength.
"Whatever you call it, that desire to find and forgive Roddy, who must be, by now, suffering the most painful of blows to his amour propre, was like a great, warm, loving tide in the mother-heart of Roddy's Aunt Flo."
This gentle observation which opens one chapter of this thoughtful novel sounds the vibrant low-keyed pitch of Carolyn Hunt's second book for Surrey House, Inc. The psychological study of a warm-hearted woman who takes her young nephew to her mothering arms when her sister fails in health touches on a situation far more common than the laity will believe.
Nevertheless, according to nationwide studies carried on by teams of social workers, investigative reporters, psychiatrists, and volunteer field workers, their collections of case histories prove one thing beyond a doubt: that adults and children, if thrown together under circumstances which provide privacy (secrecy), and at a time when both are sexually "ripe," will tend to fall into sex patterns and proclivities not found in the average manuals on sex.
The aspect of this sort of relationship which most enrages the head-in-sand puritan who, in denying his own sexuality, also arrogates to himself the right to deny sexual variants to all the world, is that its final results are often wholesome. Coitus between older women and young boys almost always is of the instructional-variety, or at least includes elements of instruction. Of equal importance to the impressionable psyche of the youth is a freedom from guilt which he might feel if he were intimate with a girl his own age. Also, of course, he is usually spared the anguish of rejection, since it is, almost without exception, the older person who does the pursuing, makes the decision, and furnishes the maturity which cushions psychological shock.
It does not detract from the reader's anticipation to say that the warmly human quotation given above follows a climactic scene in which the young nephew unjustly and brutally rejects his understanding relative. Indeed, the scene is only one of many dramatic climaxes which mark this warm and human story.
And this, according to Miss Hunt, subtly underlines another beneficial element in the occasional sexual relationship between the mature woman and the pubescent boy, that of understanding, acceptance, and forgiveness.
"There is, too often, a sort of savagery present in the love relationship," according to the world's most famous team of scientific sex researchers, Dr. Masters and Miss Johnson.
Between lovers of the same age, the flaring of this basic savagery, even when seemingly erased by emotion reconciliation, can create an everlasting trauma, Miss Hunt believes. Her tongue-in-cheek coupling of Nietzsche and Mrs. Norris and their clashing concepts slyly indicates her own conviction that a mixture of maturity and love can create true security against such sadness.
-THE PUBLISHERS
CHAPTER ONE
When Bert Allison fucked his wife, he liked to make love to her all over, and both of them loved to take their time. He was already stark naked, his big cock swollen but not yet hard, and Florence, his wife, took it in her warm hands and pressed it briefly to her lips, giving the broad red head a hungry kiss, her big body quivering in anticipation of what was to come.
Bert's response was to drop to his knees between her heavy thighs, shucking her breasts out of her brassiere and clamping his mouth fiercely on one of the pink nipples, his strong suction drawing a big mouthful of her tender flesh deep into his mouth, the working of his cheeks and throat muscles showing how hard his tongue and lips were working.
"Oooh, doll!" Flo whispered, eyes closed. "Suck it good, baby! Oooh, Bert, it burns clear down to my pussy!" She hugged his head convulsively, flattening both of the big, firm titties, and her husband pushed her over on her back, his mouth letting go of its tender morsel with a soft popping sound.
Grinning at the big blonde's taut face, he pushed his hand under her buttocks, which automatically heaved up off the bed so that he could pull off her panties, exposing the thick, soft mat of curly blonde hair that covered the base of her rounded belly and grew profusely down her soft, fat cuntlips.
As the thin garment of white nylon slipped down and off, and Flo drew her legs up so that her heels were against her generously sculptured ass, Bert buried his face in the juicy pink slit which opened as the heavy but beautiful thighs parted.
They had carefully, lovingly worked toward this moment for perhaps fifteen minutes, beginning with their hands roaming voluptuously over every sensitive and beloved part of each other's bodies, with deep tonguing kisses, with whispered words of endearment and passion, a litany and an improvised and ever-changing routine which made their fucking still as enjoyable as it had been twenty-four years before.
Better, in some ways, since they knew themselves and each other so well. More enjoyable, too, in a way that carried some hidden sadness, for Bert, at fifty, found the spaces between courses of love growing unpredictable.
His big hands reached up to squeeze the silken warmth of Flo's breasts, feeling the immediate wiggle of response in her body, inhaling the gut-wrenching perfume of her cunt as it slowly dripped the clear, sticky nectar distilled deep in her tingling vagina.
Once more he mashed his lips against the slickness and heat of her reddened inner lips, moving his head down to suck powerfully at the dark little pucker that closed her vagina to the outside air, but that opened so gladly to take his cock. Or his deeply delving tongue.
It was a lovely, loving picture, reflected in three or four mirrors around the walls. It was broad daylight, eight o'clock on this August morning, but Bert and Flo, who loved every detail of a good, rousing fuck, and who believed that every sense should be engaged, had every light in the big bedroom turned full on.
The slightly built little boy crouching in the comparative gloom of the hallway just outside the bedroom, moving his head so that he could peer through the crack of the door to see different aspects of the engagement in the various mirrors, it seemed almost a nightmare. And yet he was held in the overpowering strength of the voyeur's lust, unable to tear himself from his post, feeling a strange sort of sickness deep in his belly, shamefully trying to hide the fact from himself that he had an incredible hard-on, watching his uncle sucking on his aunt's twat.
His dark brown eyes, so large and soft, showed pain as well as the tortures of the flesh, and his white teeth bit down hard on his sensuously full lower lip as his aunt cried out: "Oh, eat my cunt, darling! Oooooohhhh! Make me CUM! Oooohhhh! That's-IT! Ooohhh! Aaaarrrrgggghhhh! I'm cuuummmmmiiinnnggg!"
The boy noticed that his uncle's cock was not completely erect but the stocky man's body was tense, his hands squeezing the wonderful tits so hard, so hard, making the nipples, now three times their original size, stick out at strange angles between his clutching fingers. And the movements of his uncle's head were rhythmically joined to the lovingly brutal pressures on those glorious, gorgeous tits.
His Aunt Flo's strong and beautiful torso was pumping up and down in the same tempo, her wide-open cunt bumping and sliding on Uncle Bert's face. Under the perfect light, in a mirror which gave the boy a side view, he saw that his uncle was smeared with the drippy juice from Aunt Flo's pussy, and that the open expanse of pinkness seemed to be larger and wetter as Uncle Bert's tongue flashed in and out.
The fat cunt was so pretty! The blonde hair on the puffy lips was darker, now, the hairs slimed with spit and cunt ooze, beginning to mat and stick together. The boy shivered, thinking how easily Uncle Bert's cock would slide into that mysterious hole, that cunt, about which the boy thought all the time, but of which he knew nothing. Except that it was exactly like his mother's!
In the gradual descent from the dizzying heights of a massive, long-lasting orgasm, his aunt's voice grunted in a porcine way. "Uuunnnhhh! Uuunnnhh! Oooh, my darling! No more, please! Not for a minute or two! OOOOOwwwww! Oh, Christ! Oooooohhhhh!"
Uncle Bert sat on his heels, looking pleased. "All I did that last time was blow on your clit, angel," he said proudly. "I really brought you off, didn't I?"
Aunt Flo stretched out imploring hands and helped her husband onto the bed, kissing his face, plunging her tongue into his laughing mouth, throwing one of her strongly rounded legs over his hip and slamming her body against his in a parody of fucking.
Uncle Bert's hand, reaching between the big globes of his wife's ass, stretched them apart so that the boy, gasping in a new sort of chilled and sick passion, could see the circular pinkness of Aunt Flo's asshole, could see the shining cum-juice that had flowed so copiously that Uncle Bert couldn't swallow it all.
"I'd rather eat your cunt than go through the menu at the Waldorf," the thick-bodied man said, laughing. "Ummmmm, I'd like to fill it up with noodles and suck every noodle out, one at a time!"
Aunt Flo gave him a long, drippy kiss, and felt his cock, carefully running her hand up and down its semi-hard length, making the soft skin go back so that the big red head came out in all its glory. The boy could see the pinkly wrinkled foreskin as it first came down the column under Aunt Flo's guidance, then stretching taut as her hand pushed further toward the thick bush of hair at its base. Like the curly hair on Uncle Bert's head, it was dark and faintly streaked with gray. Unconsciously, the boy gripped his own cock, out-lined under his Bermuda shorts, and hunched his pelvis forward just as his uncle did.
"It's pretty hard, angel," Aunt Flo said. "It'll go in."
"I wish it would really get up, goddamn it," the man said. "Jeez, Flo, what the hell's the matter with me? I'm only fifty. I wish I could fuck you every night."
Aunt Flo's lovely face was sweet and smiling. "Don't you worry, doll. You've still got a lot left in this wonderful old peter-and I'm the woman to get it out!"
The boy gasped. His aunt was turning her body, turning so that she faced Uncle Bert's feet. Her face was merry, her eyes bright, her big pink tongue came out and swept lasciviously around her lips, wetting them. There was no doubt of what she was about to do. He had seen it before. It was frightening, horrible. Why did women do these things? For that matter, why did Uncle Bert-and his father-put their open mouths on a drippy old pussy, sucking up all that nasty smelly stuff? Wasn't it the same as drinking piss? He shuddered, closed his eyes, felt his cock throb under his hand, and looked again.
Aunt Flo, sweet, good natured, kind Aunt Flo, smelling so clean in her short house dresses, going so naturally about all her housewifely duties-just as his mother did!-was sucking Uncle Bert's cock. And Uncle Bert was enjoying it to a point where it couldn't last much longer.
"Better get it in, baby," the man said in a strained but happy voice. "I feel very cummy!"
"Shoot it in my mouth, if you want to, baby," Aunt Flo said generously. "You already gave me two-no, three-big cums with that tongue of yours. And just sucking you up has got my clit raw and ready. Want to finish in a sixty-nine?"
The man spanked her big, white ass tenderly. "Hell, no, Flo. I may not hold it long, but I want it to soak in that puss of yours-I want to jam it in you as deep as I can, and feel your cunt milking it. Wow!" he cried. "Easy! I almost lost it. Listen, are you really ready? Or do you want me to go down on you some more?"
For answer, the boy's aunt rolled off and lay on her back, holding her big legs up, spreading them wide so that, once again, the pink cluster of inner labia, shinier than ever with the heavy stream of cunt juice, was wide to his view. And to make it perfect, she held the blonde-furred outer lips, so thick and fat and soft, wide open with her hands, actually making the vaginal entrance seem like a slobbering mouth.
And she seemed to groan: "One little-bitty kiss, Bert. One little teeny suck down deep. Then slam it in!"
She raised her head to look at her husband's cock. "Oh, Bert," she whispered, "it's really hard! And beautiful!"
Like a capering goat-or so the little boy thought viciously-his uncle leaped between the strong thighs and dived voraciously at the cunt held open so invitingly. As his mouth hit its target, his cheeks went in, his throat muscles worked, and Aunt Flo screamed so loud that it seemed all the neighborhood would hear. "Oh, God! Oh, Bert! I'm cumming again! Fuck me! Fuck me!" And her big ass came clear off the bed, the heavy muscles along her inner thighs taut and trembling.
Like a rutting boar, Uncle Bert slammed into the open cunt, and the boy saw that, at least for now, the man's cock really was hard, its broad head almost purple-dark with its pressure of engorged blood. It went in like a sword, and once more his aunt, that gentle, modest, unassuming housewife, screamed in the pagan lust of some ancient sex saga.
There could be no doubt that she was cumming, or that Uncle Bert was shooting his load into the spasming heat of the cunt which rode up and down his prick. They rolled and strained, with Aunt Flo suddenly being the one on top, her beautiful ass widely parted as it rose and fell. In the bright light, the young boy saw it all-his aunt's cunt seeming to turn inside out as she rose on the thick stem of her husband's cum-spewing cock, the big lips closing on it as she drove down. The boy knew a few things, knew where the sensitive areas were, for he had found ways to study all of this after his terrible experience at home. So he knew that, when those inner lips slid down the thick pole of hard meat, and the outer lips seemed to clasp it, that every big nerve end in his aunt's vagina and inner lips and clitoris were being frictionized to the bursting point. And if he hadn't known, she was telling him-and all the world.
"CUM!" she shouted. "Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh, Bert, you're soooo gooooddd!" Her legs held him, the boy saw thick, milky sperm squirt down the thick tool as the slipping, sliding cunt pumped it out. "You're right on it, lover! RIGHT ON IT! Ooooowwwooooo! My clit! My cunt! My lover!"
The boy's jaw was set as he watched them slowly subside and slowly separate, the cock that had been so big and hard now dwindling swiftly. And he could see that his aunt's pussy, still open, now looking red and raw-could Uncle Bert have rasped it that much?-was working and writhing as though it craved more fucking. Which, very obviously, it wasn't going to get. Not today, and not for a week.
For, as the boy knew, Uncle Bert was leaving in a couple of hours for Seattle, and this loud, long passage at sex was a sendoff such as he and Aunt Flo usually had before such trips.
"Not that you have to worry about me cheating, baby," Uncle Bert had said, laughing without humor. "If I can't get it up for you, for someone as perfect as you, how could I make it with some twenty-dollar whore? By God, I wish I could cut it off and start a new one!"
Aunt Flo had slapped Uncle Bert's arm. "Don't you dare talk that way, Bert Allison. You mustn't think of it as if you were some senile old has-been! That's part of your trouble. You think it won't come up, and that's what makes it fall. It may not happen as often, and it may take a little longer, but I always wind up with a good fuck!"
Uncle Bert had hugged her, real hard. "You're the best in the world, Flo," he said thickly. "The sweetest, the best looking, the hottest!"
Now, watching them roll slowly, like sated reptiles, their faces happy but slack with sated lust, the boy groaned with his own problem, with his awful hard-on, with his need to shoot forth the sperm accumulated in his youthful nuts. How he hated to jerk off again! He had done it the night before, having awakened just in the first throes of a wet dream. As always, he had dreamed of a dark stranger, a lush, heavy-thighed woman like the illustrations in that hidden copy of The Arabian Nights that he had found in his mother's room. And his cock had been ready to pop, so it wasn't really like masturbating. Not really. If he had slept another minute, he would have cum, anyhow. But-how dreadful to contemplate-it would have left a cold and sticky lake of drying cum in the bed, for Aunt Flo to discover. To laugh about, maybe, with Uncle Bert. Goddamn mama, anyhow! Why had she left him here?
"Jesus, look at the time!" Uncle Bert groaned. "After eight! I won't even have time to shower!"
He rolled out of bed after giving one swiping, luscious feel between his wife's legs, his entire forearm wiping up good from her flowing twat, laughing at her as she groaned. He began to get into his clothes.
"I'll eat at the airport," he said. "If I get a break and find a parking place, I'll have time!"
And it was then, the fuck-talk having been side-lined, that Uncle Bert laughed and said: "I guess we both forgot about Little Rollo! I hope he didn't get up and wander around in the hall while we were, you know, having at it!"
"Oh, hush, Bert," Aunt Flo said. "Don't call him Little Rollo. He's quiet and sweet, but Marge said he'd had a bad time, and needed to be around, oh, you know, sort of a neutral environment for a little while."
"Like six months or a year, hey, baby?" his uncle said, but not in a mean way. "She left it kind of open-end."
Aunt Flo moved to where she could reach her husband as he tossed things into a bag. Her naked arm went around him and she put her face against his crotch. "Maybe only a couple of weeks, while she and Chuck see about her operation. And maybe moving. They're in a real bind. And you know how close Marge and I have always been!"
"Okay, Flo," the big man said, smiling. "I'll call him Roddy. From what little I've seen of him, he's a nice kid. Maybe I'm not used to boys his age having good manners. And I like Marge, too-she had a lot to do with you being the kind of person you are!" He laughed wholeheartedly. "You two had a lot of guts, growing up the way you did!"
The boy closed his eyes. The unshrinking hard-on was painful, his resolve not to abate it by jerking off was going to give him a horrible ache in his balls. But none of this hurt like the talk of his mother, the memory of Aunt Flo fucking like an animal and looking like his mother's twin. Some blind instinct took him and he stood up, the pressure of his hard cock so dreadful that he bent and unzipped and let it out, shamefully stiff, unabashedly rampant. Wanting only to escape any mention of his mother, he walked straight toward his room, seeing nothing, seeing nobody.
But his Aunt saw him. Guiltily, sick with the knowledge that Roddy had seen everything that happened between her and Bert, and even sicker at the wild heat that burned her as she saw the boy's hard cock, she saw him plainly.
She knew she gasped, because Bert turned and looked at her curiously. But, although she felt that every drop of blood had drained out of her, she must not have changed in looks, for her husband said nothing. And she, her mind racing, gave him no chance.
"Yeah, Marge and I were a pair," she said, trying to keep a light tone. "Raising the younger kids, after mom came down with T.B. Those damned old biddies! They sure as hell tried to break up our family!"
"Well, you two managed to get your little twats tickled, anyhow." Bert laughed. "You were a real sister act."
"Oh, cut it out, Bert," Flo said and laughed. "I wish I hadn't told you as much as I did. Sure, Marge and I screwed together, and most sisters would sooner die. But we loved each other, and we knew no guy was going to get rough if we were together."
I'm damned glad I told him as little as I did, she thought. He's a good man, but I doubt he could take all of it!
She smiled her own secret smile. Marge, a year younger, hotly contending that they should not only take care of the younger kids, but also of their father. Marge, twelve years old! A virgin, of course, just as she was, at thirteen.
"He needs us, sis!" Flo could still see Marge's intense look. "We can't let him fool around with-well, that kind of woman-while Mom's in the sanatorium!"
And when Flo had giggled and asked: "What kind of woman?" her sister had shaken her fiercely and said: "Any kind of woman who grabs at another woman's man!"
It had been crazy, it had been scary, but it got so chokingly exciting as they spied on their father, peeking at his big, hard prick, that they could not help it. They simply had to fuck him. And he, weeping at what they told him, had welcomed the gift of their juvenile but lush bodies.
Wildly., driven by a lust that was heightened by frustration, spurred on by Marge's soft voice that kept reminding him that he needed to empty his balls, the big, solemn man had fucked them over and over.
How I wish I could tell someone, she thought. When Marge is dead, no one'll ever know why we love each other so much! She raised her naked shoulders and shivered, touched by the remembrance of so much sex and love, shared with her sister.
Her thoughts churning, she put her face up to Bert for his good-bye kiss. In spite of herself, she was bitter.
Every week, if not every day, it became clearer that Bert was losing both his desire for sex and the ability to perform. In her mind, it was the same thing. And every day, every hour, Florence Allison knew that she was sexually hotter, that she was, indubitably, as good a piece of ass as she had ever been, and perhaps better.
"I feel like I could fuck a hundred studs to death," she muttered as she heard the car start, bearing Bert away. Damn it, anyhow; damn all men for their failures; damn the aging that destroyed the fine edge, the biting fires of honest lust! Her anger flared as she thought of the play-acting she had been doing for months. Sure, she had had a couple of orgasms, three or four, actually, and Bert was, after all, her husband. But it wasn't enough, and she didn't know what to do.
I've never cheated on him, she thought, and acknowledged that, until the past year, he had been great in bed.
With her thoughts in a turmoil, churning with emotions that included her beloved sister, the thirteen-year-old boy that Marge had left with her in desperation, and the maddening hunger in her sexual centers, Flo slipped on a thin summer robe and went off to find Roddy Patton, hoping, praying that she would have the right words, instinctively do the right thing, to ease the agony she had seen in the sensitive face of the frail looking youngster.
When she entered his room softly, not wanting to knock, she almost screamed. The boy had stripped off his shorts and was lying naked in a backbreakingly uncomfortable position, his hips on the bed, his head and shoulders on the floor.
Her first thought was that he was dead, and then she saw what she should have noticed at the very first-his cock, simply unbelievable in size, standing hard and erect. It was unbelievable, but there it was, at least as big as Bert's when he had been at his best, twenty years before.
Holding her breath, afraid that Roddy would awaken and curse her, she moved silently until she could have reached out and stroked it.
It was-how long? Eight inches? Impossible! A woman's vaginal sheath is, by nature, only about six inches deep from portal to end. The cervix is, on the average, five inches from that slick and bubbly hole were the cock goes in. Tales of enormous pricks are not wholly untrue. But for every penis that measures even seven inches from belly to tip, there are ten thousand which are six inches or less.
In the micro-second required by Flo's sensitized mind to suck and drool over these silly facts, her body responded in a way that choked off all sense except desire. My cunt is killing me, she thought. And then, forgetting what Marge had hinted in her letter, forgetting the maternal concern which had shaken her as she saw the boy's suffering face in the hall, she dropped on her knees with her opened pussy at Roddy's face, gripped his skinny thighs to hold him securely, and plunged her open mouth down on that incredible cock, feeling it hurt her throat as she forced herself on it, forced it so deep that she felt his first throb of cumming deep in her gullet.
His scream of rage and surprise was made against the wet, quivering folds of her labia, and his struggles forced his lips and nose and chin against all of that inflamed area. In her state of cock-craziness, any touch was enough to trigger her into stunning orgasm.
And to have his enormous cock in her mouth, jerking a load of semen which boiled back into her mouth and forced her to swallow unceasingly so as not to lose it from her closed lips, made his contact with her streaming pussy a delight which she would never forget.
It was a shock so powerful, so piercingly intense that all her mind and all her will dissolved into one huge excess of sex feeling, and she collapsed with her squirming cunt slobbering and quivering on his face so that he might have smothered except that her limp weight simply rolled off him.
As he slid off the bed with her, his cock continued to shoot rope after rope of hot, slick cum all over her-into her open, shrieking mouth, into her blonde hair, on her quaking breasts, and finally, as the jets grew weaker, on her satiny belly and sweated flanks.
His first conscious thought was that she had come into the room with him, as he had fled, and then he remembered that he had been alone for long minutes, that he had either gone to sleep or fainted. And somehow, he blamed himself and his mother for all that had happened to him and to his Aunt Flo.
Wearily, sobbing like an infant in the weakness of such a sexual explosion, he said: "Mother did this, Aunt Flo! My own mother, the dirty whore!"
He leaped and cried out as his Aunt seized him by his long, wavy hair. She knew that her face was contorted in rage, and her pity came back as she saw his fear. In a burst of love, she held him to her breasts, moving so that they were both more comfortable. His slender body, so unlike the sturdiness shared by his mother and Aunt Flo, was warm and relaxed. Perhaps because of their position, perhaps because she willed it subconsciously, one of his thighs was caught between hers when they lay on the soft rug, and she felt her hairy cuntlips open, and the throbbing inner core of herself rub hungrily on this simulated cock, ten times, twenty times bigger than any she had ever dreamed.
If she could have taken the entire leg into her rippling depths, if only she could get the boy, all of him, into her cunt!
As she thought this, something of her frank lust seemed to strike into his pitiful, wounded mind, and he laughed, very softly, with his mouth against her softly 'yielding breast. More amazing, he seemed to recognize the electric possibilities that existed in the contact of his thigh with his Aunt Flo's cunt, and began to move his leg up and down, feeling the spread of warm goo on his skin.
He believed that he could feel her start to cum, and he manfully pulled one of her big breasts around so that he could suck on the large, deeply creased nipple, still in a state of hard erection following the echoes of her huge orgasm.
"Oooohhh! Ooooohh, baby boy!" she chanted softly, her big ass pumping softly against his thigh. "Put it in, Roddy! Ohmygodohmygod! Ohohohoh! I'm cuuummmmiiinnnggg!"
CHAPTER TWO
For her own reasons, Florence Allison scorned a shower after she returned to her room. In her full length mirror, where the bright lights were still showing every detail of her body, she saw the drying streaks of Roddy's semen, and a few big drops, which she carefully picked up with the tip of her finger and transferred to her mouth, rolling the slick stuff around in her mouth, enjoying the delicately salty taste, the smoothness.
There was a broad streak of moisture down the inside of her left thigh. She had been lying on her left side when Roddy's instincts had made him rub her to a climax with his thigh. Whatever jism had been squirted into her by Bert's cock had either been absorbed by her vagina, had dripped out and disappeared, or, what was more likely, was hardly enough to notice.
She shrugged and made a face. Poor old Bert! Well, he could hardly keep from getting old. Life was somehow wrong to take away a man's virility just when his wife was in the full heat of her developing sexuality.
"I fucked enough strangers," she murmured to herself, smiling at the lush naked woman in the mirror, remembering when she and Marge, their sexual natures raging and ravening after their mother had been returned, cured, had earnestly sought to fuck every man and boy in their home town and its surrounding back country. "We got back at those old bitches," she said.
There had actually been an attempt by a group of female busybodies to force their father to place the children in foster homes. A few of the more militant women had said openly that a lonely man could not be trusted with two suddenly developed young beauties like Flo and Marge. Her father had been great!
Careful to have his pastor and a local attorney with him when he had demanded that those gossips face him, he had said coolly: "You've said it to others in plain terms-that I'm having an incestuous relationship with my two oldest daughters. Now, I demand that you either say it to my face, before witnesses, so that I can take you to court-or make a written retraction and apology!"
Fingering her discarded bra and deciding not to wear it, Flo smiled as she remembered the triumph in her father's face after everyone had left, and he had come into their bedroom, his big cock out and standing straight up. "I feel so great, I'm going to fuck you both until you holler 'uncle!'," he had declared.
And Marge, quicker of wit than Flo, had answered: "You mean until we holler daddy, don't you, Daddy?"
Only because her wet pussy needed it did the big blonde put on panties before pulling on the clean, white shorts that showed her strongly built thighs to perfection.
She picked up Marge's letter from her dressing table and went out into the kitchen.
It was a hearty breakfast that she prepared for Roddy and herself .The long drawn out sexing with Bert, although not entirely sufficient, had been a contributing factor to the real fulfillment she had found in the strange, wild encounter with her nephew, and she was hungry with the same lack of guilt or self-consciousness that moves a lioness.
She looked at the boy as he entered the kitchen without fear, and her heart leaped as he returned her look. He's going to be okay, she thought with a hot burst of pleasure. Something scared the shit out of him, somewhere, but I'll fix him. He's his mother's son, all right!
They talked easily and casually, looking into each other's faces as though the scene in Roddy's bedroom had never been. He ate with obvious enjoyment-a thick slice of ham, two eggs, hot rolls with marmalade, and a big glass of cold milk.
His eyes went occasionally to the deep V-neck of her satin blouse, where her voluptuous breasts moved with every shift of her body, and when he got up from the table, she said: "Roddy, honey, come over here," in a soft voice.
He came readily, looking slightly tense, and she said: "My bosom is a lot like your mom's, isn't it? Give me your hand."
He had been panicky for a moment, and then sober faced, but had given her his hand in another couple of seconds.
Looking up at him and holding one arm around his waist, she had pressed his hand against the warm and springy tit, spreading his fingers and rolling his hand over it until the nipple arose, big and hard. She yearned to rip off the blouse and draw his face to her naked boobs, feeling the sexual burn rise in them and flow downward to her crotch. But this was enough for now, she decided. Better than she had hoped.
And it was wildly exciting, as crazy as an erotic dream, that this little kid, squeezed from the womb of her own flesh and blood, as close kin as her father, should lean against her and that she should feel the swelling of that fantastic prick. Both her mouth and her cunt drooled for it, but she smiled at him, patted his lean butt, and said: "Why don't you walk down to the beach? If you stay with us this winter, you'll be going to school with the kids you find down there-it'd be a good idea to get acquainted."
He smiled doubtfully. "I'm not too good at getting acquainted, Aunt Flo," he apologized. "Do you really think Mom and Dad may have to stay away that long?"
She fell silent, remembering her own shock when she was his age and her mother had fallen ill.
"No one can be sure, honey," she said softly. "Your mom may or may not have something the local doctors can't cope with. That's why your dad's taking her back to that clinic. If it's something simple, she'll be back in a couple of weeks. If they have to operate-well, she may have to be in a hospital for a long time. And your dad's going to have all he can take, just flying back there every week to be with her."
The boy looked away suddenly, but not before she caught a glimpse of tears in his large, sad eyes. He walked away, his young back straight, and Florence Allison choked on a very real fear of her own. She and Marge had been, as the nosy women had so baldly stated, sexually developed. But their beloved father had had a big cock, and he had been so eager, once the two girl-children had broken through his stunned amazement and his ancient fears, that he had fucked them every night for weeks on end. Flo could still remember the blood that had ripped from Marge's torn young cunt-Marge had drawn the long straw, and was first under their sire's driving cock.
It was a whirling dream of lust, lasting for a long, long time. They both loved sex so much, loved each other, loved to cum until their clits were sore from it. But all that fucking had done something to them both, so that Flo had never gotten pregnant, and Marge's doctor had told her that it was a miracle that she had carried Roddy to full term. And that was her fear-that Marge's womb, so battered in her childhood, was stirring with another kind of life, a malignant stirring that might never be overcome.
She watched Roddy's retreating back through a film of tears. As his footsteps died away, she got up, brushed at her eyes angrily, and said aloud: "You idiot! Nothing bad's going to happen. And if it does, it has nothing to do with you or Marge or our dad or anything we ever did!"
She spread Marge's letter on the table. This entire thing had been so sudden that she was still confused. Marge had always been willing to talk about anything, absolutely anything, except bad health. So she had not made it too clear to Flo about her condition. They had shipped Roddy down on a plane after a couple of phone calls, and this letter, coming yesterday afternoon, didn't really straighten things out.
But there was one important phrase or two, and they gave her the clue she needed where Roddy's woes were concerned.
"Since we don't know exactly what's in store for me, medically speaking, or how long I'll be gone, I can't think of anything to do except take advantage of your love and generosity," Marge wrote. "I hope Bert won't mind too much. I simply couldn't stand sending him off to a boarding school. I don't think he could take it, right now."
And then, as though Marge had realized that Flo would have to share the letter with Bert, Marge had written: "Remember Charlie Short? He has been on my mind a lot, lately, and it has a lot to do with my worries."
There had followed just a bit more, the usual communication of sister to sister, including the expressed hope that Flo would probably be able to "straighten the boy out." And this was followed by a perfectly natural observation: "He's been getting much too attached to me."
Last night, after Bert had good-naturedly assured her that Roddy was welcome for a year, if necessary, he had said: "This Charlie Short-must be a guy who had cancer surgery, huh? That's why Marge had him on her mind." And Flo had nodded, since she couldn't possibly have told the truth about Charlie Short.
His tragic story had been part of their childhood. In their small home town in Oregon, where no one's business was secret, everyone knew that Charlie Short, a somewhat remote boy, had come home from school at noon and found his father and mother in the act of copulation. He was in the early stages of puberty, just as Roddy was now, and the brutally lascivious sight of his naked mother being fucked so wholeheartedly by his father, a big, lusty man, had apparently been too much for the boy.
He had run away into the woods and not been found for several days, during which time he contracted pneumonia. Gossip leaked out from the hospital that he had been seen fondling his mother's bare breasts while she visited him, and that it was only her promise to have sexual relations with him-"equal time with my father," the story quoted him as demanding-that he had the will to live.
Flo shook her head and looked grave, then suddenly rocked with silent laughter. So, Roddy had seen Marge and Chuck doing their thing. That was the worst of raising a kid to be an idealist. Sooner or later, he had to be turned on to the fact that all people were human, that there were no saints on earth, that mommy and daddy fucked, just the same as the dirty parents of the worst kids in school. Because if he found out the way Charlie Short had-and the way Roddy had, if Flo interpreted the letter correctly-it would be too much of a shock.
"Weird that Marge would let a kid grow up that way," Flo mused aloud. "Still, what else does a mother do?"
She thought again of his outburst in the bedroom. "My mother did this!" Did what? She had sucked him off-could it be that Marge, around that huge, attractive prick hung on her own son, had succumbed to that particular temptation? Oral sex had never been discussed in their home town thirty years ago, but she and Marge had known about it. "I don't even remember how we happened to .know," Flo said aloud, smiling.
From somewhere she suddenly felt a powerful desire to know what made this strange, shy boy what he was. And with it the open admission to herself that she meant to have his cock as often as she could manage.
She jumped as she heard the latch on the screen door, and stuffed the letter into the pocket of her shorts.
It was Roddy, a pale, tear-stained Roddy whose face was contorted in a stricken look which touched Flo's heart.
She turned on her chair and opened her arms instinctively, and the boy ran to her, hiding his face in her warm and fragrant neck, hanging on to her like a frightened baby, sobbing loudly.
"I didn't go to the beach, Aunt Flo!" he cried. "I just couldn't. I had to talk to you. I just had to!" His voice broke and he wailed like a child half his age.
It seemed the most natural thing in the world to take him to his room, carrying him in her arms like a baby, kissing him and murmuring words of love and encouragement. And still, her heart beat high and the smoldering flame in her cunt became a little warmer.
"You can start telling me whatever you want to while I undress you," she whispered as she laid him on his bed. "I know you're tired and wrought up; a nap's the best thing for that," and she kept her voice calm with an effort, knowing that nothing would keep her away from his cock. "You can talk to me about anything. Anything," she repeated firmly. "It's something to do with what happened this morning, isn't it?"
Relief showed in his face. Simply having someone to talk to was like a gift from Heaven.
"Yes, it is," he said, raising his hips so that his Aunt Flo could slip his Bermuda shorts down, and his Jockey underwear. Somehow, having her see his dickie made him feel better, too. That, and the unbelievable thing she had done this morning, sort of put them on an equal footing.
"But it's about my mother and father, too," he whispered, turning his face away from her. "Something terrible!"
"You saw them doing what we did? What I did, I mean?" She almost choked as he turned back toward her and she saw that long, thick tool, so amazing on a young kid, swelling again. "But I don't understand, Roddy. Didn't you like that? The feeling when I-uh-when I took your thing," and she casually touched his growing cock with her hand, "in my mouth?"
He sat up and clutched her around the neck as she knelt by him. 'fOh, yes, Aunt Flo!" he sobbed. "It was-nice. Really nice. But Mom and Dad did a lot worse! Honest!"
He was so anxious to spill his story that Flo felt a little guilty, guiding him along the stumbling route of his story.
"You know, all that you and Uncle Bert did? I was watching," he confessed miserably. "They did all of that. And more!"
What in hell had they done? Flo kept her face straight. She and Marge had always been game for anything. "Tell me exactly what they did, Roddy," she demanded. "That's the only way you can get real relief."
She boldly placed her hand on his tool, hard enough, now, so that she could manipulate the soft, creamy foreskin back and forth. He couldn't be in such bad shape, she knew, if he could so easily raise a hard-on. If the shock of discovery had truly lamed him emotionally, he would have been sexually anesthetized, with no hot rush of blood to his cock.
"Well, Aunt Flo," he said, sniffling, "Mom bent over the bed, and Dad was behind her, and he-he-" and his voice broke on a retching sob, stifling his voice.
Flo got to her feet. "Just a second, Roddy," she said.
She went out and checked both the front door and the rear screen with the utmost care, seeing they were securely latched, and took the telephone off the hook. When she came back, Roddy was lying on his back, his eyes closed, with both hands around the base of his cock, where the curly brown hairs made a little frame around it.
She bent and kissed the head of it, then parted her wet lips to take the swollen red head into her mouth. Raising her eyes to his face, she was relieved to see that he had taken this incestuous caress without shock and, even as she looked, he reached for her head to push her back on it. Weird!
"Roddy," she said in a natural voice, "open your eyes. I want you to see something."
She began to undress, stepping out of her white shorts, then taking off her blouse, keeping her eyes on his rapt face.
"Would you like to take off my panties?" she asked. "Here, sit up on the edge of the bed, That's it," she said, patting his head as he rolled the white nylon briefs down her strong legs, raising first one foot and then another as he leaned so close that his face pressed against her cunt, and she felt his warm breath tickling in her mat of blonde hair.
"Now," she said, still keeping her voice matter-of-fact, "You were telling me what your father did, but you seemed to have trouble saying it. Get out of bed!"
She bent over, spreading her legs wide, placing her elbows on the bed, sensing that the boy had moved right behind her, and that he was as taut as a fiddle string. This was only a ploy to her, but she acknowledged to herself that it might mean a danger point for the boy.
The position gave her a pulling sensation around the lips of her pussy, since the juice from her vagina had coagulated as it cooled, and sitting in the kitchen had pressed the hairy cushions together so that the drying cunt-ooze had sealed them. In that instant, her inner labia, warming and growing with her lust, acted with her spread asscheeks to break the seal, and her overheated vulva spread wide.
She heard Roddy gasp. The sight of a mature female ass must have been a gut-tightening sight for him; the sudden opening of that slickly red gash must have stunned him.
"Go ahead, Roddy," Flo said in a calm tone. "Do to Auntie Flo exactly what your father did to your mother."
He moved restlessly, and she raised to her hands so that she could see him in the mirror.
"Come on!" she said sharply. "How can we talk if you don't show me what's your problem?"
He said humbly: "I'm not sure what to do, I didn't know you could do the-you know, the regular thing-from behind!"
Flo gave up, turning around to sit on the bed, holding Roddy between her smooth, warm thighs. His cock, a rigid bar of stiff muscle sheathed in satin-soft skin, wagged just at her chin. Her throat ached to suck it, to go down on it so hard it would jar her head, but she wanted something else even more. She wanted that softly savage cock twisting in her guts, stretching her vagina, pounding against her cervix and the end of her sheath. It was an effort to speak rationally, but she made it.
"Roddy, Roddy," she said. "You thought your dad had it in your mother's back end, didn't you?" And he might have, at that, she said in her mind, remembering that Marge loved it up her ass. And why not? She wished she had time to educate this little prig, but she knew such aching desire deep in her belly that she had to shut her eyes.
"I'm sorry, Aunt Flo," the boy whispered, and again the ready tears welled from his eyes. "I didn't know how ladies were made, back there."
"You've never had a girl?" Flo asked softly. What had Marge meant by "remember Charlie Short?" Hadn't Roddy seen his mother's ass? "Didn't you see your mother's?" she asked.
She had pulled him closer to her, and his erect cock was now touching her breastbone, rubbing on the inner slopes of her voluptuous titties. She felt an itch between her cuntlips and far up inside her vagina, and she gritted her teeth. She could take no more; the muscles on the smooth inside of her thighs were trembling with messages from her cunt, messages that she was about to cum, which would mean that her entire body would be involved.
She said very quietly, looking Roddy directly in the eye: "We both know what we are going to do. I wanted to talk to you about a lot of things, first. But I want you to trust me when I tell you that this is right, right for you and right for me."
There must have been some mystic transference of understanding between the middle-aged woman and the pubescent boy, some communication on a plane far removed from prosaic logic and normal human usage. His face suddenly seemed to glow with a knowledge beyond his years; his slender frame seemed adequate; something told him what to do.
Without ever being able to remember what had happened, Flo was on her back in the middle of the bed and the somewhat runty boy with the curiously large prick was between her legs. With the last of her calmness, she said: "Roddy, don't be scared when something seems to happen to me. I may yell and thrash around, but I'll be all right-ooooohhhhh!" and she began to scream as he stroked his cock into her with unexpected force, bringing an uncontrollable spasm of nervejoy to every explosive area in her cunt.
She had waited so long, had grown so hot that one touch was all she needed. Each flap of her inner lips seemed to be torn with the delightful itch of cumming; her clitoris seemed to burst with the painfully loving release of the compressed tension. This flame ran between her blood-filled inner labia, achingly tightened by the plunge of his tool into the rich, dark heat of her vagina, which whipped its muscles around him, rippled up and down from hairy base to throbbing glans, and spread heat into every joyful inch of her guts and belly and ass.
Almost as if by accident, his thin but powerful arms went around her in such a way that her swelling titties, so full of sensitivity, were smashed between them with a pressure that gave her excruciating secondary pleasure to back up her cunt's.
Perhaps she was, momentarily, out of this world, but Flo had the unique feeling of being both participant and spectator, seeing that amazing cock slipping into her, so big around that its friction pulled every labia, every flap on the outside of her body into the spasming, riotous, ecstatic cunt. Her lungs were filled with the deep drawn breath that followed his second and third lunges against her orgasming parts, making her seem, to herself, to be one mighty, juicy, muscular, overjoyed cunt, big enough to suck in the entire boy, to take him and hold him in her opened womb.
Her fuck-madness ripped out of her throat in a keening wail: "AAAaaarrrggghhhh! My God, my God, my God! Cumcumcumcumcum CCCUUUMMMM!" As a spectator, the ululating scream frightened her; as a participant, she loved it.
She knew that Roddy was so involved in his own bursting pleasures that the noise meant nothing to him. On the contrary, as her cunt rode wildly up and down his big shaft, his aunt's inner muscles sucking at his taut and responsive manhood, he gained strength, slammed harder into her, stretching the elastic sleeve that slanted into her until she could feel that he was literally stirring her guts. There was deep, almost unbearably pleasant pain far back up her, like the triumphant ache of a heavy, long-awaited bowel movement, so that she knew the boy was smashing far back, into the tender, sensitive areas of her rectum. It made her cum harder.
And yell louder.
"OOOOoooohhhh! AAAaaarrrggghhhh!" The wordless shouts of fulfillment, of total and uncontrolled sex joy, added a trembling vibration that the boy, suddenly transformed into a grown-up sex partner, felt as an added, piercing ecstasy. In all his short sex life, having known the bittersweet joys of desire, unbearable heat, and guilty masturbation, he had never even dreamed that something so sweet and complete could happen. Since his shocking experience which had been deduced by his aunt, he had fantasized his mother's body, her boobs, the hairy fullness of her mound and its slit. From bootlegged books he had learned the colors and places of the really important details of woman's architecture-the pinkness of textured cunt-throat, the sweetness of sex-liquor distilled beyond that wrinkled portal.
But now he knew that there was nothing in any boy's imagination that would enable him to know this madness, this transcendent joy-only the hot, squeezing, imprisoning slickness of that marvelous treasure tucked away at the base of a woman's body, primly hidden by folded lips, further concealed by a thatch of hair, concealed until a woman's heat or a man's force opened and raised those thighs to expose it.
Blindly, conscious only of the feeling in his cock, so near to its explosion, he still knew all those other things, a tribal heritage not dependent on words.
"UUuunnnnhhhh! UUUuunnnhhhh!" he grunted, as he had heard his Uncle Bert and his Aunt Flo grunt, as nature told him to express in wild sound his wild feelings. He had a hand down, now, past his balls, just for the great pleasure of feeling the hair, the slickness, the cascading flow of juice from his aunt's fat and flowing pussy, the hard stem of his cock rubbing against his hand, leaving a slick film of juice.
Oh, God, thank you for this boy! Flo prayed, unconscious of any blasphemy. She had long ago separated sex love from guilt, having dared the ultimate in censure when she and Marge had so lovingly, so gladly taken their father's great cock into their soft, shy, little-girl pussies.
"Fuck me, darling!" she said hoarsely into the boy's ear. "Twist that cock in me! Jar me! Oooohhh, my God! I'm cumming again!" Her big, smooth body, so agile in spite of its overweight, had been twisting and slamming more for her joy than for any thought of Roddy. Now, she pulled his mouth to hers, finding his mouth open so that her big, slick tongue could shoot into where his own tongue was coiled, and he knew the weird joy of sucking another person's tongue, swallowing their spit, to create a subsidiary oneness that went with the joining of cock and cunt.
"Fuck me, baby boy!" his aunt caroled, now that her vast, long-lasting orgasm was coming down to manageable levels, and the word, tabooed by older people-or at least that had been his experience-had a new tang, a new power, coming from the mouth of his mother's sister. He felt taken into an adult world, and it was a significant happening for him, although he would not realize this until years later. "The time I fucked my aunt," he would say, laughing in some future time.
He knew that he must shoot his load. It was a magnificently prideful wonder that he had not done so the minute he felt the hot and frictive clasp of that great cunt. It seemed he had been fucking-FUCKING, FUCKING! How marvelous to think it! his mind said-but he guessed it had been only minutes, a very few.
Now it was his turn to shout his deep and bursting joy as the held-back load of semen poured from his balls in long jerks, sending him driving deep into Aunt Flo's slippery-sweet, hard-gripping vagina.
"Ohhhhh! Oooohhhhh! Come, on, Aunt Flo! Fuck it harder! Suck it all out! Ohhhh!" and he groaned in deep pleasure as his cock throbbed on a lesser and lesser tension.
And his final surprise came when, as his auntie's thirsting cunt drank in that hot flow of his milk-white seed, she swirled and heaved up off the bed again, her final orgasm a weak but joyful echo of what had been, for her, the longest, biggest, hardest, sweetest cum of her life.
She rolled him off but held him tightly, facing her, so that they could both relax, laugh, look at each other in that quietly triumphant way of successful lovers, when neither needs to be reassured that the fucking was more than satisfactory, and allow a sense of love to cross their hearts.
But how strange to have these feelings for a child, Flo thought.
And the boy thought: I fucked a grown woman. I fucked my aunt. I had my dick in her and she liked it so much that she hollered and yelled fuck and cunt and everything-and I said the words, too.
Their genitals, their pubic hair, their bellies and thighs were slick and sticky with his thick jism and her thick cum-juice, so clear and sweet. It was still morning, and the brightness from outside made their privacy seem even better.
When she reversed her body and began to suck his wilting cock tenderly, they both knew a quiet, transcendental joy.
CHAPTER THREE
She had planned to introduce Roddy to the use of earthy talk in lovemaking, but to her deep pleasure, this was unnecessary-their gorgeously complete joining had been all the education he needed.
Even as they lay for a while in bed, he patted her cum-matted hairs and said: "Oh, Aunt Flo, I love your cunt! And I love your titties, too," he whispered, pulling the nipple of one of them into his mouth.
"And are you glad we fucked?" she asked teasingly, making him laugh out loud.
"Fuck, cock, cunt, cum," he said wonderingly. "Aunt Flo, doesn't my voice sound deeper to you? Honest, doesn't it?"
She hugged him. "Yes! Yes! You're more of a man than you were an hour ago! Oh, Roddy, that was the most wonderful fuck I ever had! I just wish that your mother-" and she bit her tongue, angry at herself for making such a slip, fearful that it might spoil the perfection of what had happened.
Roddy was quiet for a long time. "I guess you want to tell me I've been wrong to condemn Mom, don't you?" he asked. "How does a boy grow up? I think you saw how bad off I was, when I blamed Mom for the fact that I had that hard-on, and that I shot my jism all over you! I think I know better, all of a sudden."
"I've never been a man, but I think I know some of your mix-ups," Flo said, delighted that the boy showed such understanding. "Other women fuck-unless they happen to be what you think of as 'a nice lady,' and other women have cunts or pussies, but you never apply such words when you think about your Mom, right?"
His grin was wry and sheepish. "You know, all right, Aunt Flo," he acknowledged. "But when I was doing it to you-" and he stopped as she laid a hand on his mouth.
"When you were doing it to me?" she said and laughed. "Come on, Roddy. Get back on the track!"
"When I was fucking you, Aunt Flo," he corrected, "and you being so much like Mom, almost a twin, really, and I was making you feel so good-well," he said, hanging his head, "it seemed like I was making you feel good."
She laid her hand on the boy's prick, now down to a normal size, and squeezed it gently. "You made me feel as great as I ever did in my life. You never fucked before?"
"No, ma'am," he answered, blushing. "Never. Anyhow, I thought that Mom probably felt the same way as you did, maybe the same way as I did. And that she had as much right to feel good, doing that-fucking, I mean-as I did."
"And your dad, are you willing to grant him the same right?"
"Oh, yes, Aunt Flo! But when I saw him, fucking Mom, and especially when I thought he had it in her behind, I got sort of crazy, I guess. But now I know he was just ramming it into her from behind. Geez, you looked good that way, Auntie Flo!"
His aunt stroked his belly, getting her fingers into the crinkly hair around his cock, drying into a stiff tangle from its soaking with their combined cum fluids. Her laugh was easy.
"Go a little further in your growing up, Roddy," she said. "I've had men's pricks in my asshole. It's a wonderful feeling, too, I can tell you that!"
The boy drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Wow!" he said. "Maybe Dad did have it in Mom's asshole, is that what you're saying? Golly, what a way to go!"
"People do it, baby," Aunt Flo said, smiling. "There's an old saying-if you haven't tried it, don't knock it!"
Roddy thought for a minute and made a face.
"Wouldn't you-I mean, wouldn't the man-get a lot of that stuff on him?"
"You mean shit, I imagine, don't you? Roddy, you're so grown-up, so quickly, I guess I'm expecting too much of you. Maybe it is a turn-off to some men. But it's just a fun thing, anyhow."
"Roll over, will you, Aunt Flo?" the boy asked. "No, that's not enough. I can see your asshole, and the top-no, the bottom-of your pussy. But not as much as I'd like to. Besides," he added humbly, "I guess I'm pretty fresh, asking you for something like that."
He rolled off the bed, his face solemn, and his Aunt let him go. He had learned an awful lot in a very, very short time. He had to take this sort of education in spaced out increments. No use putting too big a load on his mind.
"I'm not going to dress," she announced. "You'd better, though. Just in case someone comes to the door, someone has to be decently able to answer it. Come here a minute!"
He came to her, his face grave, and she hugged him against her swinging titties, pressing him against their silken weight and rich warmth. She took his hand and pressed it between her legs. His fingers moved, working between the thick, hairy lips, finding her seat of desire, making her jump as he stroked the clit.
"Go deeper," she whispered, and he gently twisted two or three of his long, slender fingers down, down, until they went into her sucking, moving hole.
He looked up to see her face happy and tense; her eyes closed; then she bent down to him and kissed him, running her tongue deep into his mouth. She felt his cock swell and move against the satiny inside of her thighs, and pushed him away, laughing.
"You've shot two big cum loads in about three hours. I guess that won't hurt a growing boy, but I don't want to eat you alive. Let's have lunch, and you get some sun. Then, if you want to fuck later, I'll show you some things you need to know."
After they had eaten, wolfing down a big lunch, and Roddy, completely changed from his gloom of the morning, opted to go to the beach, Flo spent a pleasant hour or two.
She made her bed, feeling luxuriously animal as her big breasts swung free and her juiced-up pussy opened every time she leaned and bent to reach the center of the bed. "What a thing!" she murmured, over and over.
The remembrance of that fantastically big penis and how it had felt, ripping into her so deeply, with such manly authority, made her shiver time and time again. On more than one occasion, she put her fingers down to press between her cuntlips, enjoying the voluptuous itch that could have roared upward into a mighty orgasm with a little loving manipulation, and decided against it.
"I'm forty-four," she said aloud, laughing at herself. "And still ready to rub myself off! Not bad! Not bad!"
The warmth of the summer day had almost totally dried out the big pool of love-juice in Roddy's bed when she finally got around to making it. She touched the stiffening patch around its drying edges, her face tightening as she thought again of the intensity of those moments, the swelling, stretching feel of her nephew's cock in her. And how he had cum! Long, long, throb after throb, jet after jet. Her pussy gave her a sudden and unexpected contraction, almost pulling her to the bed, and she laughed softly, looking in the mirror and going through the motions of fucking.
There was a noise at the front door and she sighed and went to her bedroom to pick up a robe.
But it was Roddy, back again after being gone only a couple of hours, and his face was terrible, contorted with emotion.
She let him in and he rushed past her, looking away, and her breath caught as the fear of his loss shook her. She got to his bedroom just as he was slamming the door, and, by her superior weight, forced her way in, catching him before he could fling himself on the bed. In the face of her success in thwarting his desire for privacy, he burst into tears.
She lay with him on the bed, cradling him in her embrace like an infant, kissing his forehead, his cheeks, and murmuring soothing words.
"Roddy, Roddy, my baby, we're friends," she whispered. "You can talk to me, tell me what's troubling you. Is it about what we did today? You mustn't worry about such a simple thing as that. Auntie Flo wanted you so badly, wanted you to fuck her. It was wonderful for me, and there was nothing wrong in it, believe me!"
He had stopped crying except for an occasional sob, and he turned so his face was near her big breasts, their weight keeping them together in a pneumatic mound. She had never been more aware in her life of her need for sex, and the miraculous luck of having this boy and his long, thick, talented cock fall into her hands. She could smell the hot, rich aroma from between her legs, and hoped that nature would tell this inexperienced man-child what it was, and move him to do something. But first, she knew, she had to dispel his present mood.
She drew away and used a hand to tilt his chin, making him look at her. "What's troubling you, Roddy?" she asked. "I want to help you. And aren't we friends-more than friends, after what we've done with each other?"
He hid his face in her boobs, and the touch of his hot cheeks, the feel of his breath on them, gave her a corresponding warmth in her belly and crotch.
"It wasn't that, Aunt Flo," he said. "I appreciate what you did for me. I liked it. But I guess it shook me up a lot, to be doing that with you."
"To fuck me, you mean. To put your big, marvelous cock into Auntie Flo's hot old cunt, right?"
His hand stole down between her legs, through the stiffened hairs, fingering warmly in the slobbery channel, raising heat in the smooth, slippery inner lips.
"Look at my cock," he said, very low, and slipped his surfer trunks down to expose himself.
by an effort, Flo refrained from laughing. It was almost too much for her. There, on the white skin-his cock had started to swell, and it was nearly full size-there were marks made by a lipstick.
She closed her hand around the sweet, soft skin and lifted the heavy organ up, moving so she was closer to it. "Who did it?" she asked. "And why?"
Roddy's voice grew louder, more excited.
"Some roughnecks at the beach," he said. "They were nice, at first-asked me my name, where I lived and all. I'm sure that some of them knew you. One guy said: 'Wow! Old balloon boobs!' and another, the nicest one, really, told him to shut up. Said you were a friend of his mother's, and a good lady."
"Fine, fine, we'll discuss that later. But how did this happen? And where'd they get the lipstick?"
Now that he was talking about it, Roddy found he could laugh. "They said I could be part of their group, and asked me to go in a camper. And then they said I had to go through an initiation. Aunt Flo, they had a couple of girls in the camper!"
"My goodness!" Flo said. "Don't tell me the girls got this lipstick on you!"
"No, ma'am. They-the boys, I mean-held me and pulled my trunks down, and the girls being there, for some reason, made my cock get up a little, and one girl gave the biggest boy a lipstick and he held my cock and wrote on it. 'V for virgin,' he said. And then he told me that I had to stick it in one of the girls and erase the lipstick, or I couldn't pass the initiation! So I began to holler at them, and they laughed at me and let me go."
His prick was now quite hard, and Flo, feeling almost as desperately hot as she had the last time they were on his bed together, said: "Listen, I know that they shook you up, but it isn't anything to worry about. What did the girls look like? Were they pretty? Did you want to stick it in them? Come on, level with me. It sounds to me like you may have gotten in with a live bunch of kids."
Roddy began to laugh. "Gosh, Aunt Flo, you sure straighten out my thinking," he said. "Maybe I was wrong to get sore."
"I'm curious about one thing," Flo said. "What did the girls say when they saw your cock?"
"They both said 'Oh, wow!' the way girls do, and one of them said 'lle's going to be king of Santa Vaquita High School!' And the little dark-haired one with the big tits said she had first dibs erasing the lipstick. But I was scared, Aunt Flo!"
"Felt you didn't have enough experience, maybe?"
"Oh, yes! I'd be afraid I'd start to cum before I even got it in. Even when it wasn't quite hard, with them looking at it, and me looking at them, I felt very cummy. You know?"
"Oh, phooey!" Flo laughed. "How about this morning? When I played with it, and you put it in me? Weren't you afraid you'd cum when you put it in me?"
Roddy looked surprised and pleased. "Boy, I sure did! But when it was in, I didn't cum for a long time, did I?"
"Of course not. But you've got to have two things in mind when you go out again and run into those kids-confidence and control, for one, and the ability to adapt, for the other. Look, Roddy," she said earnestly, looking at him and gently stroking his prick, now throbbing with heat and power, "it's almost exactly like your acceptance of your mom and dad as human beings. You said these kids were roughnecks, then, later, you said that one of them was very nice. All they did was kid around a little. In a way, that was your initiation, their acceptance of you. If they hadn't liked you, they wouldn't have even so much as spoken to you. You can see that, right?"
"Yes, ma'am." He smiled shyly. "But what about confidence and control?"
Aunt Flo looked at her watch. "It's five o'clock. We can have dinner now, and a lesson for you later, or the lesson now, and eat later. Which would you rather?"
The boy smiled radiantly, his thin, sallow face transformed by his warmth and eagerness. "Oh, Aunt Flo! The lesson!"
After locking all the doors and arranging lights and pillows, Flo, with her big, solid, beautiful rump raised on a big pillow, said: "Hold my cunt open with your thumbs, Roddy, dear. Is the light right? Can you see every detail? OOooohhh! I'm so hot that just having you touch me down there gives me the cum-quakes! Hold it open, dear."
She could see his wavy brown hair, the intense look on his face, the way he lay sideways to keep his weight off his cock.
"Gosh, Aunt Flo," the boy cried, "it's moving! It's all pink and slick and wrinkled and sopping wet. Can I lick it? It tasted so wonderful this morning. But I was too scared and sick and upset to really do anything. It just rubbed on my mouth and I tasted it later. Can I, Aunt Flo?"
"Just a minute," she said gently. "This is a lesson for when you meet those girls again. What do you see at the top?"
"A little swelling. Something under the skin. It's about an inch long, and it's moving. Throbbing, I guess. The red lips are moving, but the little swelling is kind of white, and it's throbbing. What is it, Aunt Flo?"
"That's the most important thing about a girl's cunt. It's called the clitoris, or clit for short. Some women have little pet names for it-clitty button, rosebud, nubbin, cum-button, a lot of things. But that's where the greatest sense of feeling is. No!" she screamed as his head moved. "Don't touch it! Not yet! I'll tell you when."
He got to his hands and knees. "I can't stand it much longer, Aunt Flo. I'm just like I was before-so hot I'm scared I'll shoot it all over you without even touching you. Please!"
She held out her arms and he moved over her, his great cock wagging over her smoothly rounded belly. From above her, he could see the light tracery of blue veins under her white skin, see the pink and nubby flesh that formed wide circles to surround her hard nipples. That area was puffed out, as though some inner pressure was inflating them. The throat-tightening scent of his aunt's cunt flowed around him. He loved it, not knowing why.
He had heard his uncle say, a couple of times, "I married the best looking woman in the world!" and Aunt Flo's laughing voice saying: "But she got fat and middle aged!"
It was evident that Uncle Bert still liked her, and Roddy could see why. Aunt Flo didn't seem fat to him, just well built. And maybe it was the little bit of overweight that kept her skin so tight and smooth. Better than those two girls!
"Oh, Aunt Flo!" he exclaimed. "You're so beautiful! I love you so much!"
It was so unexpected that Florence Allison blushed like a schoolgirl, and the flush that swept over her body was like a fresh ripple of heat inside her. "Lie down," she said thickly. "Forget your cock! You won't cum until you want to-until we want you to." She cleared her throat but the hoarseness was still there, a choking sort of ache. "Forget your cock, hear? Now, let me kiss you. Oh, God! I'm afraid I'm going to cum! Get down there, Roddy, and watch it! OOOooohhhh! Suck it, Roddy! SUCK! SUCK! AAAaaarrrggghhh! Harder! On the clit! OOOooohhhhh my God! That's it!"
The boy felt the smooth warmth of his aunt's big thighs clasp his head, almost tight enough to frighten him, but he knew it was all right. He could see the pink insides of the lovely cunt, moving, writhing, shedding crystal clear drops of a rich woman-juice until he saw Aunt Flo was slowing down, the violent hunching of her body-it lifted her big ass right up off the pillow-became a mere rocking motion, and then he took as much of the juicy heart of the cunt in his mouth as he could.
He did not aim for the clitoris, only wanting to fill his throat with that clear, strongly flavored syrup, to get that slickness in his mouth, to inhale the powerful fragrance of hot pussy as he sucked.
At the contact, Flo cried out again, wildly: "Owooooo! Ohhhhh! Ohhhhh! Uuuunnnhhh, uuunnnhhh! Oh, Jesus my lover, I'm-I'm cccuuummmmmiiinnnggg!"
Grinning against the wide open slash of wet, hot flesh, Roddy went down to the flowing hole where he had had his cock, the tiny closure marked by what looked like soft, pink bubbles of shining tissue, smashing his lips around it, sucking with all his force.
There was a gush of the delicious cunt-ooze, a mouth-filling flow that kept him swallowing in dazed passion, and a few lumps like tapioca, which he correctly judged to be the same juice, gelatinized by long soaking in the dark vagina.
"Oh, Roddy, my angel! Suck me again! Oh, baby! Give me your cock! Let me have him in my-OOOHHHHGOD! OOOHHHHGOD! Don't stop! SUCKSUCKSUCKSUCKSUCK! OOOHHHGODDD!"
With his eyes bright, his cheeks dripping pussy-juice, the slender boy held firmly to his aunt's thrashing body. His skinny arms were locked around her thighs, and when she heaved, his narrow breast pressed into the great, warm, sodden area of her open cunt, her big thighs, her quivering pink ass. He had, indeed, forgotten his cock as his aunt had demanded, but more because of her wildness than her command.
Through all of this, the boy had completely forgotten what Aunt Flo had said about her clitoris. If he had nibbled it, it was incidental to his main interest, which had been to suck up that delicious flow of woman-nectar. And the strong smell-what was it? Cheese? Bits of kippered herring? The rankness of fertility, with an overtone of woman-piss?
He sat up, part way, and squatted on his heels, grinning at his aunt, who slowly came back through the red and misty curtain of blown passion, dynamited almost into unconsciousness by the fierceness of her orgasm.
Her big, firm body was trembling, her eyes glazed and looking far away. He crawled around to her face and, leaning over her, kissed her on her open mouth, knowing she was licking her own cum and loving it.
His heart began to beat faster, thinking of that powerful tongue, that slick, warm mouth of his cock. One of his hands was around the end of a big breast, and he squeezed it without thinking, so hard that his aunt moaned in pain. When he let go, though, she pushed him away from her mouth and cried: "No! Keep pulling my tits! Make them hurt!"
He moved back, still unsure of himself, and she recovered her senses enough to see his feeling.
"Don't be afraid, darling," she said, smiling. "Haven't you heard your mother yell?"
The boy laughed delightedly. "Some day, maybe I can tell her, hey, Aunt Flo? Would that be all right, do you think?"
His dependence was an enrichment of her total feeling. To have such a boy! In fairness, she had to let Marge know what she had, what she was letting go to waste.
"Of course you can, dear," she said. "Oh, I feel so wonderful! But you need something, too. You can have me any way you like. I'll bend over and you can fuck me from behind. Or in front. Or I can suck you. There's lots of ways. What do you choose?"
The boy looked interested. "In a book I saw," he said, "the guy was on his hands and knees and the girl had his cock in her mouth. He had his head down between her legs and was licking her pussy. It sure looked like fun."
Flo giggled. "That's a sixty-nine," she said. "But you lie down and I'll get over your mouth. Here, put this pillow under your head. And when you feel me cumming, which will be just about the first fifteen seconds I'm sucking you, suck my hole real hard, like you did a minute ago. Okay?"
He looked up into that wide, diversified area. The long, hair-rimmed cunt was open, dripping, pink. There was a gentle, pulsing movement at the tiny dark crease that marked the opening into that strong and vital body, into that hot, clutching vagina. In this bright light, so close up, he could see the long row of straggling hairs that grew away from the thickness of the growth on the cuntlips and marched down her thighs along the huge tendons. All the hairs from the cunt to beyond the pinky-brown asshole were wet, gluey, stuck together with the congealing cum-juice that had bathed her parts so copiously. And I thought I sucked it all up, he said inwardly. Something informed him that this overwhelming heat, this complete commitment to sex, was a rare and beautiful quality. No hypocrisy, no fakery, no pretense. A wonderful woman, his aunt, with a hot and wonderful pussy. And then, with swelling pride, he thought: My mom's just like Aunt Flo!
He had been afraid, again, that he would shoot his load as soon as Aunt Flo took his prick in her mouth. The way she kissed! Wow! She seemed about to pull his tongue up by its roots. But she gave him a wonderful, pleasant surprise.
Keeping her mouth big and loose, sliding her tongue around the aching head of his cock in slow spirals, caressing it very gently in the coagulation of hot saliva, her action assured him that he would not be premature. "You'll cum when we want you to," she had promised. Oh, wow! Goddamn! How wonderful it felt!
He blew his breath against the open cluster of inner lips, seeing the clit start to grow, the lips turn redder and redder.
He put both his arms up over her smooth, warm ass, so much like his mother's. The grip enabled him to lift his face right into that wet and steaming gash without strain, so that he could suck quietly, easily, as Aunt Flo was doing for him.
The juice ran down into his mouth so that he had to swallow faster, and this movement kept his lips teasing the sensitive flesh spread open for his pleasure and his aunt's. There was a faster tempo in her sucking, a sharp reminder in the head of his penis that he had built up a painfully heavy load of jism in his balls. How he wanted to cum! Would it be all right? Had he held it long enough so that he would not appear childish, dumb?
His aunt was launching another orgasm. He could hear her groaning around the head of his cock, a vibration that was singularly beautiful, coupled with the warmth and pressure from her lips and cheeks, her tongue, the roof of her mouth.
Her asshole was moving in and out in a regular beat, showing an inner circle of pink and grainy membrane as the darker pucker opened and spread. He could see where it might be possible to get his cock into that forbidden hole if it were greased enough. And the pink lining seemed completely clean. Oh, God! His pulses throbbed as a cum-tremor swept him. He couldn't stand it! There was an itch in his cockhead, a stirring deep in his balls, a contraction of his asshole. He was about to spew his male cum into his auntie's loving, sucking, fiery hot mouth.
Flo felt the stirring in his cock, the tension in his skinny body. Her belly was on his chest, her boobs pressed down on his belly, flowing over the sides, so that her elbows were pressing them against his hips. Her hands were clasped under his young buttocks, his big cock was going deeper into her throat every time she came down on him. His arms and hands over her rump were too dear and sweet for words. There was a blast of fire burning in her belly, between her legs, in her twat, in every hair, every nerve.
At that second, feeling his sperm begin its boiling spurt up the big tube in his cock, Roddy pulled his open mouth directly onto Flo's jerking clitoris, feeling it leap madly, and without knowing it, his screams came out in the same rhythm as his jets of seed and slickness. "OOoooohhhh! OOoooohhhh! OOoooohhhh!"
And with all that, with his own nerves supplying the trigger that brought his cum out in jet flow, his aunt began to suck as if she would swallow him entirely, swallowing his flow of cum-juice, each swallow tightening and releasing her strong throat muscles that gripped his silently screaming glans.
Fire and rhythm and nerve-busting happiness roared through them both, one fire feeding the other, until at last, the big, sweaty woman, her face and body slack with exploded passion, rolled off her nephew, her breasts quaking as they followed her body, her big thighs resting, wide open, as she panted for air.
Roddy had enough interest to rest his hand on the lathered pussy, so much lighter in inside color, now that the blood was receding from the sated labia, the shrunken clit.
They were very quiet as they dressed, prepared dinner-Roddy assisting where he could-and ate. But it was a most companionable silence. Every time she passed near the boy, Flo touched him, squeezed his arm, kissed his cheek, and they both smiled whenever their eyes met.
"Could I ask you a big favor, Aunt Flo?" he asked after they had cleaned up the dishes. "Just for this one night, could I sleep with you? Or could you sleep with me? There's so much I need to know."
It was a couple of hours after they went to bed that they finally found sleep. His deep interest as he painstakingly inspected every part of his aunt gave her a growing warmth, a deepening affection for the frail looking boy who mounted such a manly cock and who, by instinct, used it so well.
"Is this a good place?" he would ask, touching some spot of interest, and, if his aunt replied affirmatively, he would caress it or lick it or suck it.
She found out things she had forgotten-that her underarms were erotic not only to him but also to herself, and that when she pressed her face in his belly, taking his big prick over one of her big breasts and, from there, into her armpit, it provided a shivery, highly arousing thrill.
To let him fuck between her soft breasts was fun, too, with him clutching each of the soft pillows of flesh to adjust the friction, rolling the swollen nipples under each hand.
by the time they were ready for sleep, they were both pleasantly used up, and still had several areas of complete exploration to anticipate.
It was near midnight when the phone rang, and Flo, her big, glowing body totally relaxed, took a long time getting to it. It was Bert, and his voice sounded edgy. When she explained that she had taken a sedative because she was lonely, winking at a wide-eyed Roddy who was rubbing her cunt and looking up at her, Bert was appeased, but still grumbling.
"Ralph Bridges just left," he said. "He wants me to visit each of his retail outlets and give the sales staffs a pitch."
He waited a moment and said testily: "Well, did you hear me? That means I'll be up here at least a week. You might at least say it's hard luck."
Flo, who had been blessing Ralph Bridges and counting the ways in which she could break Roddy in, introduce him to more and greater pleasures, said: "Oh, of course, Bert. It just knocked me speechless for a minute. It's rotten! But I know you wouldn't do it if you didn't feel it was necessary!"
"Probably mean another ten thou a year," her husband said, completely mollified. "I knew you'd understand."
"Maybe if I weren't knocked out from that pill, I'd be yelling at you for leaving me alone, but we can make it up when you get back, right, Bert?"
"Sure, sure. Sorry I was sore about your answering the phone. Should have known you'd need to take a pill! Hey, how's little Rollo-I mean Roddy-getting along? Is he any company for you?"
She had the boy on the bed beside her, one arm around his narrow waist, so that she was holding his warm, soft cock.
"Why, yes, dear, he's just fine." She said her good-byes and then, not even bothering to turn off the light, she took the sweet, strong length of the boy's organ into her loving mouth.
CHAPTER FOUR
It had been many years since she had felt so completely wonderful upon awakening, Flo happily realized. To have her cunt feel so warm, so marvelously alive, and still to have it feel not in the least hungry for a cock, that was the unbelievable providence. Her boobs, warm and full, had their own tingling life; in some spasm of fierceness, spurred by her rash demands, Roddy had squeezed them until the white, blue-veined flesh had seemed almost to squirt out between his fingers. And their soreness was wonderful!
She sat up and got out of bed quietly. The sleeping boy looked fragile and vulnerable until you noticed that cock of his, and then you had to know that his appearance of fragility was deceptive. There had to be a lot of man in a boy who could swing such a tool. And his inner resources had to be incredible, too. In spite of that day which had begun with her wildly sucking him off, in spite of a strenuous course of sexing which had gone on all day and ended after midnight, that magnificent prick was anything but used up.
Roddy lay on his side, his slender, beautiful young face on his clasped hands, and some dream had lighted it with a smile. Perhaps he dreamed of his Aunt Flo and her hotly, slickly embracing cunt, for his cock was tenderly fat, swollen, half hard.
An exquisite wave of heat rose in Flo's breast, in her mind. It touched the slickness between her cuntlips, too, and ran in itchy little traces all through her body. Her big tongue thickened so that she was forced to swallow a mouthful of spit, and she ducked down to Roddy's crotch for a moment, yearning to give that splendid cock a great, engulfing suck which would bring him shooting out of his sleep.
But she noticed his slow, quiet breathing. He needed sleep. So she handled his cock very gently, pushed the soft foreskin back with her lips, and mouthed the warmth and smoothness of his cockhead with maternal gentleness.
The morning was half gone, and she grinned at the kitchen clock which told her so. "We were up late," she said to the accusing timepiece. "I was furthering my nephew's education!"
She was carrying her blouse, her nylon briefs, and the same tight-fitting white shorts she had worn the day before. Wishing she didn't have to wear anything, she put them on. "I can't spend my life naked," she murmured, tickled at the idea, and at feeling so good she could talk to herself.
She saw a movement outside the kitchen window as she took the coffee pot from the stove, and yelled: "Come in!" even before the sharp, confident knock.
To the small, beautifully built woman who entered with a big smile, she held out her arms, holding the small body for a few warm seconds, mentally noting the firmness of the pear-shaped breasts, so graciously sized for her neighbor's frame.
"Minette," Flo said warmly, "I have to look twice to make sure you're not your daughter!" Unselfconsciously, she patted one of the fullfashioned boobs so delightfully revealed by a daringly cut playsuit. "I heard some guy down at the supermarket the other day say something to a checker-asked if he knew 'the Sorensen sisters.' Asked if you were twins. Wasn't that something else?"
Her affection for the dark, petite woman was genuine; they had been neighbors for years, and friends at first sight.
"Gee, baby, maybe you'll fix me up with your nephew, if he's not all booked up," the neighbor said and laughed. "From what Sally told me last night, you've got a real treasure here! But you know how easily impressed young girls are." With the easy familiarity of long friendship, Minette Sorensen got a cup and poured herself a cup of coffee, then sat down close to Flo.
"I might have known," Flo said. "Some kids dragged Roddy into a camper down on the beach. He said they got his cock out and showed it to a couple of girls. 'The little dark-haired one with the big tits,' as Roddy described her, showed some interest. That must have been Sally." She laughed, but was careful to keep a close eye on her friend's expression. 'This scene, and others like it which would surely follow, had to be played with the utmost caution. She dared not say too much, but she would surely arouse suspicion if she was less than her usual bawdy and casual self. "Roddy's a little bit shy. I guess any thirteen-year-old boy would be. So I didn't ask him to show me exactly what happened."
The neighbor nodded and smiled, then closed her eyes and her small body trembled. "God, I wish I'd've been there," she declared with feeling. "I can't believe any young kid could have a cock like Sally described. No way!" She looked at Flo directly, challengingly. "A foot long?" she asked incredulously. "That's not true; it couldn't be!"
Flo was conscious of the guile, the feverish interest in her neighbor's face and voice.
"Save it, Minette," she said and laughed. "You ought to be ashamed, trying to trick me into something. And what would I have to hide? I'm the kid's aunt; he's my sister's boy. I check him night and morning, just as my sister would. Now, you can let that long, hot breath go out and act normal, and I'll tell you something. He kicks off the covers. I've seen his cock. It's enormous! It's not a foot long, but if I saw it suddenly, just a long flash, it'd look like a foot long to me!"
She got up from the vinyl covered chair, and felt the wetness cling to the seat. It tickled her that she was so hot, could produce the slick goo from her cunt in such quantities that it would strike right through the crotch of her panties and shorts.
Something moved her to move nearer her neighbor, and the dark little sexpot turned and buried her face in the white blouse, her head pressing against Flo's warm, soft breasts, her arms going around the strong, smooth thighs. Without a word, without turning her face up, she deliberately pushed her hand between the bigger woman's legs, boldly prying the two thicknesses of fabric away from the flesh. When Flo felt the touch of fingers at the edge of her swelling cuntlips, she hugged the small, dark head against her, acknowledging to both of them that the caress was welcome. More, she felt with one hand for the ties at the back of the bikini-type halter, pulled at the bow knot and released the smaller but equally opulent titties of her tiny friend. Flo was breathing through her mouth,.very hard, and was moving her ass slowly as Minette's fingers got into the slickness of her flowing inner labia.
She broke away, panting, and bent quickly to kiss and suck on the long, almost purple nipples which sprang from the dark little woman's breasts. When Minette clasped Flo's head to her, mashing the big woman's mouth against the resilience and warmth of her titty, it seemed to create some mutual decision.
"Go in my bedroom," Flo ordered hoarsely. "Shut the door. There's a door that leads into Roddy's bedroom. Latch it."
She smiled as if with difficulty, and Minette, her face also set in a tight smile, almost pranced as she left the room.
Moving quickly, Flo set out rolls and butter and sliced ham, a jar of strawberry preserves, and a quart of milk. Smiling maternally, she went to join Minette.
The small woman from down the street was lying on her side in the middle of the king size bed. She had' not fastened her halter top, and her breasts, lolling in their silken weight, moved together as Minette-breathed. She did not look up at Flo, but turned an enigmatic smile toward the wall. Very deliberately, the larger woman knelt on the bed, pulling her blouse over her head, letting her big, firmly healthy boobs roll out. Again with deliberation, she lay down so that her neighbor's face was at her own breast, and used one had to tug a big nipple directly to the other's mouth. "There it is, baby," she said huskily. "Suck on it!"
Gingerly at first, and then with eagerness and painful force, the tiny, perfectly formed woman drew deeply on the big, voluptuous pillow of flesh, tonguing the nipple, dragging it as deep as she could with her mouth opened to its widest, and moaning in a paroxysm of passion and delight. At the same time, as though irresistibly drawn to it, she drove one arm down between the closed thighs of her loving friend, and madly, blindly rubbed her forearm in the bulging crotch where Flo's fat and itchy pussy was pressed against the fabric of her shorts.
When they heard a knock on the door which connected with Roddy's room, they broke apart, red-faced and breathless, and Flo, signaling silence, slipped into her blouse and out to the kitchen. "I'm out here, Roddy, dear!" she called. "In the kitchen!"
Then, as the smiling boy came in and gave her a hug, she nodded her head toward the bedroom and said: "I have company, Roddy. My neighbor from down the street. She came to show me her new playsuit, and she's in my bedroom, trying it on."
The boy winked at his aunt, making a show of taking his cock out, grinning, and whispered: "Glad I didn't make any smart cracks about you not being in bed with me."
He ate with the voracious lack of discrimination which characterizes young boys and, winking at his aunt, said: "I think I'll go back down to the beach. Maybe see those kids I met yesterday." He looked at the door from the kitchen to the hall, making sure it was closed, and quickly produced his prick, swollen with a good night's sleep, and held it up for Flo to kiss. "I won't be gone long," he promised. Then, in a low voice, he said: "There's more stuff to learn!"
Flo latched the back screen, then thought better of it. No use in making anyone suspicious, especially Roddy. She went back into the bedroom and found Minette sitting up, looking solemn and a little frightened.
Flo smiled and sat down, once more getting out of the blouse, but this time she put her arm around the small woman and hugged her gently, fingering the smooth, heavy breast, squeezing the nipple between finger and thumb.
"What's bothering you, Minette?" she asked in a matter-of-fact tone. "Did you think I'd be critical of you for what you did? Because I wouldn't, you know. After all, I started it when I got up and went over to hug you."
The other woman, who had seemed to stiffen at first, let out a long breath, then a giggle. "Nobody in the world but you, Flo, would be open and good enough to say that. The way I was talking. And about a little kid." She seemed anxious to be absolved for this lasciviousness, and Flo pulled her against the warm amplitude of her own breasts.
"Cut it out," she advised. "Look, we've known each other a long time, haven't we? And we don't pull any punches, right? I've let you know I'm a hot woman, and certainly, for Christ's sake, you've said over and over that you live for sex."
"Hmph!" Minette snorted. "I don't have a hell of a lot to live for, if that's the case. And I'll bet that you've got the same complaint. Otherwise, you wouldn't come at me like, well, like you did!"
Flo sat as she had been, her arm around Minette, her eyes on something far away. She was still deeply aware of the sexual appeal of the woman's ripe, tautly full body. Her hands were delighting in the pneumatic warmth, the rubbery life of the voluptuous titties, small in comparison with her own, but bountifully proportioned on the smaller frame of her neighbor.
She was equally certain, although without first hand information, that the womanly cunt beneath the brief bottom part of the playsuit was hot, slobbering, clutching with its soft, wet muscles. But this was no time to find out. "You wouldn't have come at me like you did!" What a thing for the woman to say.
She removed her arm from around the lovely little body, not hastily, but as though she had heard a telephone ring, or had a pan of biscuits in the oven. Minette looked up at her with curiosity as she arose and calmly put her blouse back on. The look of curiosity changed to one of doubt, then of hurt.
"What did I say?" the dark woman asked. "I didn't mean to place blame on anyone. You said, yourself...." and Flo cut in calmly.
"It's okay, baby. No sweat for anyone. We were talking about my nephew, and about his, er, thingamajig."
"Oh, shit, Flo," Minette answered. "Don't get high and mighty with me, for God's sake." She laughed nervously. "I know I acted a little bit forward, but you and I don't have to get all that formal. We were talking about Roddy's cock, not about 'my nephew's thingamajig.' That's not like you, Flo."
"So, okay," Flo answered easily. "Let's get back to the subject. Sally saw the kid's dick, reported it to you, and you came by for a cup of coffee and a little neighborly chat. Whatever happened after that, let's forget. I believe I confirmed the story about the big, er, cock. From natural knowledge."
The small woman with the big tits, still uncovered, slipped off the bed and knelt between Flo's big, beautiful thighs, putting her hands up under the blouse, lifting the weight of her neighbor's breasts. Her face was flushed, pleading, like a child's. "Oh, please, Flo, don't be mad at me," she begged, smiling tremulously. "I got a little bit scared. Not of you. Of me. I haven't ever had anything to do with another woman-well, not since I was in high school," she said defensively. "Not that I think there's anything wrong with it. It just hasn't come up, that's all."
She had tears in her eyes, but rather than remove her hand to remove them, she wiped her face against her friend's blouse.
The effect was to press her face into the living warmth of those amazing titties, and she nestled there, her breath quickening. "Honest, Flo," the soft voice came up, "I never knew anything sweeter than sucking on your nipples. Or anything hotter. I creamed my tights when you touched my pussy!"
She drew away and looked up at Flo, her dark, gamin little face smiling. "I was afraid I might, well, go too fast for you and foul up what seemed like a beautiful thing."
Flo drew the woman to her ample breast again, kissing the top of the clean, dark head. "You're a doll, Minette," she declared. "I'd a hell of a lot rather turn Roddy over to you than to Sally. A kid like that! What does she know? At least, you'd give the kid some solid instruction."
Her fingers ached to hold and squeeze the solid, lovely titties now lying on her thighs, but she was turned off, somehow, and it was going to be awkward getting back to the same high point as before. The next step had to be a great deal more overt, a lot heavier, and she was cautious.
"It would really be something, wouldn't it, to throw those two together if we had a way to watch it," she said and laughed.
"Sally came home in a sort of daze," Minette said. "We talk to each other pretty good; you know what I mean? I made up my mind I'd give her breaks I never had."
"That's nice, Minette," Flo said. "I had to go at it on my own-go after my sex education." She laughed shortly. "Sal's lucky. What did she say?"
"All she could talk about was the size of Roddy's prick," the girl's mother answered. "So big, so red in the head, so beautiful. I think she had cum a couple of times, just walking home." She moved her hands on Flo's breasts, giggling, and the big blonde, honestly wanting to meet the other woman halfway, bent over and ran both her hands down inside the elastic of the tiny shorts, feeling down into the cleft of Minette's ass, past her anus, into the warmth and slickness of the small woman's cunt-flow.
The pussy she felt was brimming with juice and heated life; its lips were thick and springy, and the dense growth of hair near the vaginal entry was sopping wet with cum-juice. She remembered the hot days of her youth with Marge, when they had been willing to try anything, not once, but twice, or as often as they liked; when they loved anything that had to do with sex, including each other's cunts. Suddenly lifted to a brand new pinnacle of heat and yearning, she nuzzled at Minette's head until the small woman turned her face up, the strain of sexual need showing plainly.
For the first time in over twenty years, Flo kissed another woman with heat and passion, her tongue going boldly into the hot slickness of Minette's mouth, finding a tongue as hot and strong and wetly eager as her own. The kiss was hot and savage, with Flo's fingers going into the muscular darkness of her neighbor's cunt, and with the tiny woman's hands squeezing Flo's titties just short of the torture level.
For a moment they held together in strained silence, hearing the blood pounding in their ears, each with a pussy outrageously hot, blindly sucking at each other's tongue. Flo's mind was on the dark woman's cunt: I wish I were sucking it instead of doing this, she thought fiercely, and she was tensing her arms to rip Minette's shorts off when the screen door slapped and the two of them fell apart, gasping.
Out of good manners, Roddy stayed in the kitchen, and Flo was glad she had time to get back to normal, and for Minette to struggle into her skimpy halter. They grinned at each other like conspiratorial schoolgirls, and then both went to a mirror to check details like hair and make-up.
Before they went out, Minette put her hand on Flo's large and lovely ass and nodded toward the kitchen. "Hard to believe that a little kid, a skinny one, too, could have a cock like he has," she said wistfully. "I'll bet it's tough for you, knowing it's there, and having to leave it alone!"
Her tone was so warmly sympathetic that Flo had to bite her tongue to keep from shouting the glad news of the boy's cock, her very own treasure, and how she loved it.
She let the warm-natured little brunette out the front door, sneaking a quick, sucking kiss before they opened the screen, and whispered: "I'll see you, baby. Real soon!"
The second shock of Roddy's presence had taken all the itch from her cuntlips. Like a man who has lost an erection due to shock, she was sterilized of all sexual feeling except for an ache that, deep inside, kept her on edge. All that afternoon, as she did her scant housework in leisurely fashion, the lack of feeling stayed with her.
Even when Roddy, unaware of her preoccupations, gave her an occasional pat on her voluptuous ass, or hugged her so that his face could press against her breasts, she stayed neutral.
At dinner, things began to change. As Roddy opened his mouth to take in big bites of steak, she saw his tongue, thought of its hot and slippery strength on her cunt. As this letch brought its own itch to the shivery-hot mucous surfaces hiding under her thick cuntlips, she envisioned his huge cock sliding between her lips, making her open her mouth to its widest, stroking down her tongue, driving deep into her aching throat.
During the meal, when the boy got up to get more milk for himself, she whispered: "Come here, Roddy baby!" and held him while he kissed her boldly and thoroughly. With her arm holding him to her, she could feel the giant hardness of his cock pressing on her breast, and she whispered: "Hurry and finish eating!"
They didn't even waste time doing the dishes, just stacking them in the sink, and Flo, uncomfortable in the tight shorts now that her heat was once more above normal, peeled all her clothes off as they worked on the clean-up.
The frustrations of the day had worked her to a different sort of desire, she realized later. "Let me undress you," she whispered hotly, her tongue roaming over Roddy's face, his ears, his eyes. She was clumsy with heat, and short tempered because of her urgency.
"Hold still!" she snapped once, as Roddy tried to get his hands around one of her warm, heavy tits. "Sorry, Roddy," she said absently as she saw the distress in his face. "This is what I want!" and she sucked at his cock, which was just beginning to get hard. "Hurry it up for me, baby!" she said in a strained way, sounding phony even to herself, but so twisted with need that she didn't give a shit.
"Please, Aunt Flo," the boy asked, looking a little puzzled, "it's my sex education, isn't it?" His smile was tentative, shy, and she was immediately contrite.
"Sorry, Roddy," she said again, this time in a more loving and normal tone. "But look at this!"
She rolled on her back, spreading those wonderful thighs, and held the thick lips of her pussy open for his gaze. "Take a look," she said gently. "You'll see what my trouble is."
The boy was pleased to look, and pleased to kiss in the reddened labia, swollen by a rush of hot blood. When he pressed his open mouth into the steaming, writhing lips, his aunt cried out, a high, wordless scream, and began to thrash wildly, holding his working lips and tongue against her streaming slit, and he had to shift his body slightly when his young cock, now painfully hard, rasped against the sheet.
Flo was trembling when she at last let him go and sat up.
"Like I told you the very first time we fucked, Roddy," she said gently, "you mustn't worry about the way I yell and go shooting around the bed, kicking and hollering." Her smile was placating, and the boy, not at all unhappy to be dominated, nestled against his aunt.
"Just tell me what you want me to do, Aunt Flo," he said.
She went into her own and Bert's bedroom and switched on the big stereo, looking through a number of albums until she found one she wanted. It was the Kamenoi Ostrow done by the New York Philharmonic, and she put it on, hurrying back to suck at her nephew's tool, which had softened slightly.
Sucking it, playing with his balls, stroking under his slender hips, she looked up from time to time to smile at him, and when he reached down to squeeze her breasts, she gave his cock a tender bite, then held it firmly while she sucked his big young balls into her mouth, tonguing them while the boy tried to hunch more closely against her.
When the music was in its second movement, she pushed the boy over, put one of his hands deep into her hotly slavering twat to give him an idea of how she thirsted for him, and put the head of his throbbing cock right into the throat of her cunt, where the big muscle immediately gripped it.
There was a spot near the conclusion of the piece where violins and cellos beat out a wave of sound, and she let her cunt sink down, swallowing that wondrous bar of boyfuck meat, not even looking at Roddy's face, holding her eyes closed to enjoy the stretching sensation as her body opened to accommodate itself to the size of the boy's prick. It jarred her cervix and she pushed down hard, wanting that painful satisfaction she got when the final inch of her cuntal sheath had to become two inches.
The movement of the violins seemed to work in her womb, in her cunt; her body moved to the sinuous beat; she thrust down hard at the end of each measure, letting the wildfire grow in her until its urgency was like a drug. In her deep retreat into sex joy, she was gratefully conscious that Roddy, somehow, had connected the music and its power with her movements, and his cock was responding, giving her a terrible, unbearable feeling of a cum that would rip her apart.
The bursting need in her clit, in the depths of her cunt, began to grow like a power awaiting release. The violins paused, all sound ceased, and she hung poised about the skinny frame of her nephew, until, like a tidal wave, all sound came together at once in a dazzling finale. With the clash of cymbals and the tidal wave of brass and strings, the big woman went into a controlled madness of sexual emptying.
No longer awed, now that he knew that this was just an unusually big, elaborately built up cum, Roddy let himself go too, ramming his cock up with all the power of his back muscles, feeling the delight of his nerve-wracked cock as his balls spurted their heavy load of semen into his relative's cunt.
She almost drowned him with the slobbering kisses she continued long after her cunt had ceased to ripple, or his cock to throb. At her orders, he sucked out his seed and implanted it in her mouth; he almost fainted at the gamy essence from her superheated pussy, lying fallow but seething all day.
With the lights on, he examined every inch of Aunt Flo's cunt, and all around her asshole, vastly pleased, at last able to mount another hard-on. They used this one with patience and loving care, until the nerves in Roddy's cockhead were almost anesthetized by heat, woman-juice, and gentle friction.
He was too exhausted to sleep after his last cum, and it was less pleasurable than the "musical one," as he called it.
"It feels good, Aunt Flo," he groaned as he throbbed his painful way through an orgasm almost free of semen, "but it sort of hurts me, too. Ohhhh! he screamed, as she fucked at him, her cunt still urgent, still able and willing. "Oh, please! Not now! I can't stand it!"
To get him down from his peak of nerves, his loving auntie at last put him in a tub to soak, kneeling by him as if he were an infant and she was his mother. She also gave him a glass of hot milk, feeling just a bit shitty at having fucked him so close to his outer limits.
He fell asleep with his head on her smooth arm, one cheek against the smoothness of her breast. She had tears on her cheeks, still hearing his final sleepy words: "Gee, Aunt Flo, I'm so grateful for all you're doing for me!"
CHAPTER FIVE
With her conscience still on guard duty, Flo gently held Roddy down when he tried to get up next morning. "I've got some hot rolls in the oven," she said, kissing him gently. "I want you to rest. You had a tough day. Or rather," she laughed, "tough night."
The boy was gay and lively. "Shucks, Aunt Flo," he said, "I'm fine! Look at this!" He waved his cock at her, and its purple head, so like a wildly beating heart, looked good enough to eat.
Nevertheless, she made him stay in bed, brought in a big tray with loads of sausage and scrambled eggs, hot sweet rolls, and milk for him as well as a big pot of coffee for herself.
"I loved that fucking to music," the youngster said and giggled, leaving the greasy marks of his lips on Flo's swelling tits. "When that whole orchestra seemed to shoot out at us, and you began to cum-wow! Did you pick that piece on purpose?"
She held his head to her sex-fired breasts, closing her eyes against the heat that gnawed so insistently in her belly.
"Yes, of course," she whispered. "It's a, well, a sort of way to pace yourself, to build it up, to get more out of it. We'll do it again. But right now, I want you to rest."
He looked so disappointed, so much like a child who had just been refused an ice cream cone, that Flo, all her emotions close to the surface, dropped to her knees by the bed and took his half-hard cock warmly into her mouth. She sucked it gently, rolling the head with her tongue, looking at Roddy in a sidewise way that set him to laughing. She reached between his parted thighs and handled his young balls ever so lightly, and then, slowly, slowly, pulled her head back until the fantastic cock snapped out of her closed lips with a loud "pop!" and knelt there, laughing back at him.
"Don't worry, baby," she whispered, her warm hand still caressing his testicles. "Remember what I said-we've got lots of time. I don't want to drain you! Leave a little in there for seed," she smiled, pressing his scrotum tenderly.
When she came back from the kitchen, he was propped up on two pillows, and she, anxious to keep him in the groove of sex, even if they did not fuck, lay down beside him, pulling his slender little body against the warmth of her belly and breasts.
"We never did really talk about those two girls," she said. "The ones at the beach. How old were they? What were they like?"
Roddy laughed; some of his confidence had been bolstered by last night and the wild events of the day. "They were, oh, I don't know-as old as I am, maybe younger, maybe older. The big one was blonde. She laughed a lot, and scratched herself while the fellows were painting my cock."
"Would she be nice with her clothes off?" Flo asked. "I mean did she have a nice figure?" What in hell do small boys notice about girls' figures? she thought irritably. Boobs? Legs? Asses? All-overs?
"Not like that little dark one," he said. "Wow! Did she ever have a pair of tits! You know, they were both in bathing suits. Bikinis. That's almost the same as their being naked, you know." He got this remark off with a self-satisfied leer, and Flo was tickled. He was beginning to feel his young manhood, to feel equal, and she adored it.
She rubbed a warm hand up and down his back. "Tell the truth, Roddy, would you like to try and fuck one of them? I expect you could, you know."
He squirmed a bit, and then, patting her cheek, he said: "If I thought I could do it right, I would. You know what I said about being afraid I'd shoot it before I got it in."
"And you know what I said-and proved to you-about your ability to control it. It just takes confidence."
I'm a fool, she thought wryly. I could take everything he's got, and still be cock-hungry. Why am I trying to set him up with that young pussy? But she knew the answer to that, she was aware of a number of possibilities inherent in engineering a wider sex life for her nephew with Minette Sorensen, with her daughter, with the boys that Sally knew and, no doubt, fucked as often as she could manage. And they would be here long after Roddy had gone home.
The boy spoke hesitantly. "I do all right with you because I love you," he said in a low voice. "I don't know about a, uh, strange woman. I mean, a strange girl. I might be, well, scared."
He suddenly hugged her tightly, crushing his body against her breasts, and the love-pangs caused by the pressure made her vagina begin to contract.
She waited for the quiver of heat to expend itself, and patted the boy's narrow rump. "Don't even think such a silly thing," she chaffed. "Listen, I know the little dark girl with those lovely titties. Her name's Sally Sorensen, and she lives a few houses down the street. If you want to meet her, I can fix it up." I don't have to fix her up for a screw, Flo thought with an inward snicker. She's, already qualified herself with what she told her mother.
Roddy moved against the warm, smooth body of his aunt, and slid one arm down between them so that his hand pressed on the slitted softness of her fat cuntlips. He moved his fingers, feeling the warm slickness, and Flo, halfway ready to cream her jeans at any given moment of the day, bucked powerfully against the boy's hand, an involuntary whine of passion aroused coming from her throat. "Oh, God, Roddy!" she whispered. "Take it easy!" . He laughed in proprietary confidence, swarmed over her breast, ending by holding her face very tightly between his hands and tonguing her thoroughly. "Everything about you is fucky, Aunt Flo," he said in an intense voice. "Your mouth, your cunt, your boobs, everything! You're better than any dumb kid! Still, if you'd watch me do it, it might be fun for you, and give me more confidence."
In the morning warmth, their joined bodies creating their own thermal nuances, Flo felt the welcome, arousing sting of sweat break under her arms, between her pillowed titties, in the strongly fragrant secrecies of her inner thighs, next to her pussy.
She held him lightly by the arms, running her tongue up and down his muscular young belly, rejoicing in the maleness of his youthful crotch, with its sparse pubic hair surrounding a cock that any man might envy. "I love it when you talk like that, Roddy," she said gently. "You're not a little boy any more; you're a man, and-oh, Roddy! I don't want to fuck you to death, but I'm so hot!"
He kissed her tenderly, squeezing her throbbing titties with innate regard for her need. "I'll suck you," he said. "I don't have to cum, Aunt Flo." His cock gave a hard jerk against her belly, and she jumped up, her face working.
"No, Roddy," she cried. "You have to rest. Oh, Roddy, I want you so! But you were drained last night."
He pulled her back down, flat on her back, and knelt above her. With careful hands, unbelievably knowing for a boy of such scant experience, he rubbed softly up and down between her thighs, his fingers just grazing her cuntlips. As she closed her eyes against the rising red tide of heat that ran from her throat to her groin, that seemed to flash an incandescent glow through her breasts, her uterus, even her deeply hidden ovaries, he suddenly jammed half his hand into her expanding, flowing cunt, with a loving savagery that brought her screaming up off the bed.
"Ohhhhh! Ohhhhh! Roddy-baby! Oh God, oh God, oh God!" she groaned out the deep-throated cries of lust. "Oh, honey-boy, PLEASE! PLEASE! AAARRRGGGHHH! I'm cuuummmmmmiii nnnggg!"
He grinned above her, continuing to saw his fingers into the slickly oozing folds of her cunt, his big cock waving its swollen red head above her. His face was intent, wearing a look of speculation, and he was smiling as he knelt to kiss her boobs.
As she had instructed him, he lipped and sucked one of the distended nipples and all of its surrounding pinkness into his mouth, loving the way his auntie groaned, so deep in her chest, the sounds synchronized with the gentle heaving of her lush body, then sucked with such force that his mouth and throat were suddenly filled with the live, responsive tit-flesh, glued to the roof of his mouth by the powerful pressure, and his loving relative, shot through with flash fire, began to scream again, pumping her big, beautiful ass up and down, searching for the fingers which had been removed.
Like a nimble, hairless white monkey, the young boy rolled between the big and thrashing thighs, letting go the flaming breast to look into the spasming, flowing cunt, its inner lips flame-red with his aunt's unutterable sex joy.
His face the picture of lust, looking far, far older than any pubescent boy had a right to look, he bent to suck deeply at the clamping ring of muscle, getting a lipful of the wet hairs that spread along the powerful muscles between her cunt and her asshole, and clasped the rolling thighs with animal shrewdness as the big, full-bodied woman arched her body again, her screams now hoarse and throat-splitting.
The rasping scream died to an inarticulate whimper, and Flo's hands, blindly searching, found her nephew's head and weakly tried to pull him away.
He had been tickled with his vast success at sending his aunt on such a roaring sex trip, but, as she continued to whimper and to hold him by his long brown hair, he backed away, beginning to worry. "What's the matter, Aunt Flo?" he asked, getting to his knees. Her eyes were closed, and he felt his heart go into the heavy beat of fear, but he could not help but be affected by the aphrodisiac sight of the voluptuously naked body that still heaved and rolled in an extremity of lust. "Please, Aunt Flo, what is it?"
She opened her eyes and smiled with an effort. "Pills," she said faintly. "On my dresser. Round bottle."
He found the clear glass container, a prescription from Beeber's Drug Store in Sonar Beach, and brought it to her. Her eyes were closed, her face a deep red, and it frightened him beyond measure.
But he read the label and got two of the round, white pellets out and, holding her lips apart, placed them under her tongue.
Almost immediately, there was a change; his aunt relaxed, her breathing slowed down, and, in another few seconds, her color was back to normal.
There is an ability to recover from fear that is a part of the childhood period; it springs, perhaps, from an inner conviction that death is only a frightening myth. Or, possibly, it was the suddenly released reserves of sex power that the past couple of days had brought to Roddy Casper that strengthened him.
In any case, the depression left him as soon as Flo's eyes opened, and he kissed her lips warmly, smiling down gratefully. His enormous hard-on still remained hard, he was proud to note, and he felt very masculine, very grown-up, very much in charge of everything, now that the first fear vanished.
"Golly, Aunt Flo," he said, "that was kind of scary!"
She patted his arm, then groped down and got her warm fingers around his cock. "Sorry," she whispered. "Silly of me to-pass out like that. DoA't worry if I do that again, honey-boy, just get my pills. Not even my heart; just a sort of spasmodic paralysis of my diaphragm, so I don't breathe well enough to keep my body supplied with oxygen." She pulled him down and kissed him, running her long slick tongue deeply into his throat.
"I seem to remember an almighty big cum, just before the curtain went down," she whispered. "You were wonderful to do that for me. And look here-you devil! What a marvelous, hard roll of meat! You sweet baby! But you can save it a while. Okay?" She kissed him again. "Honest, Roddy, I think I may have been too much of a pig last night."
He spanked her on her smoothly muscular rump. "Okay if you say so," he said. "Boy, I sure made you holler, didn't I?"
"You sweet, wonderful boy! You'd make any woman holler," his aunt said proudly, her eyes filled with tears of love. "I never had it any better. You've come a long way in two days!"
He brought her, at her request, a glass of milk with two ounces of Scotch whisky stirred into it, and loved the rank sweetness of alcohol on her breath.
"You know," he volunteered, "I think those kids at the beach had some of this stuff; they smelled like it."
"The boys, you mean. They're pretty young for it, but I hear a lot of kids are on booze," she said. "You liked one of the boys; do you remember his name?" She held his hand. "It really would be nice for you to get in with some good kids."
"The one I liked, they called him Scotty. Or Scott. He's taller'n I am, and well built. Kind of dark hair, smiled a lot."
"Scott Eisen," Flo said. "I'll be damned! Was it Eisen?"
"Oh, yes, Aunt Flo, that's it!" Roddy was pleased. "Do you know him? Wait, did I tell you what he said when I said I was visiting my aunt, Miz Allison?" The boy blushed. "He called you Old Melon Tits. So he knows you!"
"Nice of him to notice," Flo said drily. "I know his mother well,-It's all right if he liked my boobs. Would you like for me to invite him over? I think it would be good for you."
They settled it after a bit of discussion; they dressed and had lunch; Flo called her friend Mrs. Eisen, and surely, my dear, yes, of course, Scott would be delighted. At least that's what the lady said. And it was hard for Flo to picture this dark -haired, dark eyed, smiling young man as a beach banger who fitted his small camper with girls, who dealt with sex initiations. He was so soft voiced, so smooth, so courteous.
And he and Roddy took to each other immediately, it was plain, and Flo was deeply glad in her good heart that darling Roddy would have normal relationships with his peers.
Not that Flo was about to give up her prior rights on that marvelous cock. "Not if I have to fight off every hot little cunt in the Santa Vaquita district," she murmured to her image in the mirror, laughing deep in her pleased and sated belly.
She was still weak in the knees from the sudden attack.
Young Doctor Hine had laughed when she described the condition, and fingered her with new respect as he gave her a routine pelvic. "It's not what you might think, Miz Allison," he said. "No sign of 'change' in your girl-goodies. It's either that you're getting too much, or not getting enough. Which is it?"
And Flo, pleasantly warmed by the tough young medic's frank talk as well as by his probing fingers, had laughed it off.
Now, looking at her bountiful figure in the long mirror, she patted her smoothly rounded, gently creased belly, and the puffed out triangle of blonde curls, now dry. "Wow!" she said softly. "That wonderful kid! Me, of all people. Getting too much!" She lifted one big breast, bending her neck to take the reddened nipple into her mouth. It was a great feeling, and she dropped the pleased titty so that it jumped and quivered and rolled on her chest, winking at herself. There was something gorgeous and pagan about her as she stood there, unafraid to assess and accept and love her sexuality. "I was made to fuck," she told her mirrored image, and felt another gasping closure of her throat.
She was not frightened, but she moved away, going toward her clothes closet, when the outer door slammed and she heard a rush of feet through the kitchen, into the hall, into the room she now called "Roddy's bedroom." There was laughter and excitement in the boyish voices and, with no conscious intent to overhear, Flo felt the impact of the conversation.
"I know those little cunts said you were hung like a mule, but all they got was a flash," young Eisen's voice said. "Anyhow, man, I'll measure with anybody, any time!"
For a breathless second, Flo feared that Roddy's voice, uncertain as to its register, might come out as a defensive squeak, and her heart swelled with pride as her nephew said in his man's voice: "You've got a deal, Scotty! Mine wasn't even hard the other day!"
Her heart jumped, and Flo, noting that the door was not completely shut, edged softly to the crack, where she got a tall, thin view of part of the room. It was devastating.
Both kids had dropped their slacks and thumbed down their Jockey shorts, and were laughingly waving their cocks. Both of them were rising, urged up by some expert stroking. With a catch of her breath that turned her vision a bit hazy, Flo Saw that Scott's prick, while not as long as Roddy's, seemed thicker.
"Hey, Rod, you really have got a jock on you," Scott said.
"So've you," Roddy answered. "As big as mine."
"Listen, you should have banged that Sorenson chick," the big boy said. "She really digs you. And man, she's hot! She'll take it in the head, up her ass, any way you want to do it! Hey, d'you know what 'take it in the head' means?"
"Oh, shit, of course I do," Roddy said in a man-of-the-world voice. "Means she'll suck a guy off. How's her puss taste? Does she like for a guy to eat it?"
Feeling a sharp flow of feeling deep inside her, in her womb, in her vagina, Flo gasped and clutched at the door frame. The trembling of her knees, the lack of breath in her lungs became a warning, but the picture of Roddy shoving that huge cock into the splitting asshole of the neighbor's kid held her bound. She was proud of Roddy's aplomb with the bigger boy. She staggered, hearing Scott say something she didn't quite understand, and made a desperate grab at the doorknob as her big body slid down and her breath seemed to choke in her throat.
In Roddy's room, the two young males looked at each other with differing sensations. Scott, caught partly naked and playing with his cock in a strange environment, was paralyzed. Roddy, secure in the certain knowledge that his Aunt Flo approved everything concerned with sex, was cool but excited.
"C'mon!" he said, as the noise of his aunt's body hitting the floor seemed to turn his new pal to stone. "In here!"
It was a heady sight for any boy, especially one like Scott, who had, for all his experience with girls, never come face to face with a full grown woman. And certainly never with such lush, voluptuous nakedness as this. Even the cyanotic hue of the fallen woman's face and breast only added to the violently prurient picture.
The ripely formed woman, flat on her back, seemed to be purposely displaying every hotly lubricious sight that her big body afforded. Big, firm, luscious thighs spread wide. Softly voluptuous cunt, its big, swollen outer lips luxuriously furred with blonde curls, wide open to show the blood-red curl of dripping inner labia. Big, bouncy, gloriously formed breasts, lolling of their bounteous weight along her ribs, their nipples prominent in spite of her condition. And, at least to Roddy, who knew the brilliant perfection of those lips and that tongue on his cock, her open and gasping mouth, its wetness shown by a line of drool from the corner of it, was another sex target.
"Jesus!" Scott gasped. "Is she dead?"
The question, since Roddy had the answer, calmed him. Through a dim red haze, unable to move, Flo heard him reply.
"Naw. It's some kind of a breathing thing. Not really dangerous. I'll get her pills!"
He started to move away and Scott's voice came clearly.
"Wait a minute, goddamn it! I want to look at her! Jeez!" Flo felt the floor quiver as the big boy got down beside her. "Lemme look at this cunt. Wow! Oh, wow! Did you ever see one like it?" Flo's body tried to move, to respond to that young hand pressing on her numbed pussy, and remained on that same level of partial consciousness, grateful that she could hear.
"Lay off, will you?" Roddy demanded. "That's my aunt!"
"What the fuck!" the big boy demanded. "If she was my mom, I'd look at her cunt if I had the chance! Get with it, Casper! What kind of creep are you? Man, I wish I could suck her out!"
Flo heard Roddy's voice, but now it was excited. "Why not?" he asked. "You're right, Eisen. If it was your mom, I'd look at her cunt. And suck it, too! Here, open her up!"
A blaze of gratitude began in the big woman's heart. If I die for it, it'll be worth it, she thought. She still felt the weight of cyanosis, but something, perhaps the crazed delight of these two experimenting boys taking over her body, helped her.
She could have screamed for joy as she felt her thighs pulled apart, the beat of a smooth young face, smooth, sucking young lips, on her opened pussy. Not dead after all, she thought, as muted response ran through her belly. She could not see clearly, but a moving form obscured her vision, such as it was, and her breasts suddenly felt an enormous, a bursting pressure, and a tremendous weight came down on her constricted chest, pushing stagnant air out of her tortured lungs. She felt the hard heat of a cock between her gathered breasts, hard hands holding these cushions of smooth flesh together, and then-a soft push of something warm against her chin.
Roddy's fucking between my tits, she thought, and his rhythmic movements, acting in the manner of artificial respiration, began to clear her vision and bring her hard-beating heart into a better tempo. More feeling came writhing into the craving nerves of her cuntlips, and she now had to fight to stay supine as a cock battered into her. Not Roddy's, she knew. It stretched her. Roddy was marvelous, but Scott's cock was, she dimly remembered, thicker. Tears starting from her closed eyes with the effort of controlling her body, she began to cum, all the motion that should have been expressed in wild gyrations now taking place inside of her.
"Jesus Christ!" she heard the Eisen boy yell. "She's chewing my prick with her pussy! She's marvelous!"
He lay still and let his hard young cock take the inner sucking of Flo's wild muscles, and, as the orgasm wavered and expired, he pulled out. Once again, something came between Flo's closed eyes and the light. The boy's voice was strained.
"Get down there and fuck her, Roddy!" the boy exclaimed. "Man, she's the greatest in the world! Look at that mouth! Man, I can't pass this up-I've got to shove my cock in there. Look, her tongue's as hard as my prick!"
It was an emotional struggle for Roddy. Desiring acceptance by a peer, craving to appear casually mature, it was still a dreadful shock to be a part of this animal attack on his aunt. Inherent maleness won, and he disengaged himself from his aunt's chest, letting air come naturally into lungs no longer clutched in the spasmodic grip of rasped nerves.
As his great cock slipped into her slobbering, clutching pussy, made so tender by her just-past orgasm, she clenched her buttocks to prevent a soaring, screaming seizure, and her excited muscles, gripping Roddy as they had gripped Scott, took him to the peak of cumming. And, feeling this pre-hardening deep in her sensitive vagina, and with the richness of her own cum-flow mixed with the boyish rankness from under Scott's foreskin, Flo began to suck at both ends, to suck, to pull, to milk on those two boyishly rigid pricks.
And, wonder of wonders, young Eisen's overtaxed cock, hung on a hair trigger at the licentiousness, the diabolic adventure in this despoiling of a quiet woman he knew only as his mother's good friend, began to relieve itself of the pressures from his fired-up nuts, so that his huge charge of semen began to pump into Florence Allison's greedy, sucking mouth.
His only thoughts were instinctive, not a grain of ethics, of compunction, of normal respect for what he thought of as "decency" in the human relationship. Only an ape's madness and need to plant his seed in something warm and slavering and female. He blew and she sucked, and, although he was too preoccupied to notice it, her body was as busy as a snake's, sinuously beating and weaving as her lower mouth sucked the sperm from Roddy.
Only when the last throb shot his cum into the warm mouth, only when that same mouth spat out his cock and began screaming, did the heavy shouldered, big boned kid fall back. He had never been more frightened in his life.
CHAPTER SIX
There was a sense of miracle in the mind and heart of Florence Allison. The utter weakness of one of her seizures had been almost entirely washed away by the powerful blasts of orgasm that had dynamited the sense of death right out of her. The outpouring of Scott's load of semen had had its effect, also; he must have been storing it up, Flo thought. Starved as she had been for several years by poor old Bert's downhill slide, these days with Roddy and now this new source of male essence, with its promise of a constant flow of goodies, swept away that part of Flo's condition which had been psychosomatic.
And her mind, clearer than it had been in years, was quick to grasp an opportunity. Therefore, although her heart yearned to comfort the stricken young Eisen, she looked at his frightened face with calculated wrath.
"To think," she said rhetorically, "that any son of Mamie Eisen-oh, Scott, how could you?" This brazen use of the most ancient of cliches, which would have provoked hearty laughter in most grown men, struck the boy like a sword.
"Oh, God, Miz Allison, don't tell Mom!" the groveling youth gibbered. "I couldn't help it! I'm a-I'm just a-some kind of goddamn animal!"
Flo had to swallow both tears and laughter at the lad's pitiful outburst, but Roddy helped when he gulped: "It's as much my faut as Scott's, Aunt Flo! Honest! So whatever you do to him, you ought to do to me!" His voice was shaky, but his loyalty and courage were beautiful, and this time, Flo let the tears go. Better than laughing.
Scott had gotten up and, strangely, took Roddy's hand. His look said that the slender boy was a hero.
"It really was my fault, most of it," he squeaked. "And I'm ashamed of myself, believe me!"
"Are you, now?" Flo asked. "What do you know about what you've done to me? Do you know how women feel when their, er, husbands, are far away? You just don't know! You couldn't!"
She saw that some inner glow of comprehension was lighting Roddy from inside his mind, but that Scott was dumbstruck. "We women have sex needs, too," she said, in a kindlier voice. "You were-well, sucking on me, Scott. And you stopped. To put that peter of yours in my mouth!" she said sternly.
"I'm sorry, Miz Allison! I'm sorry!" the boy wailed. "What can I do? Tell me. I'll do it! Anything!"
Roddy, looking straight at his Aunt Flo, recognizing her needs as well as she did, knowing the capabilities of her sex-lightened mind, said, like an experienced actor delivering a well-coached line: "I think maybe-well, it sounds like to me-that my aunt wants you to, er, do what you were doing!" He gestured toward the big woman's steaming crotch, where the swelling of her inner labia kept the fat outer lips open, and Flo nodded.
"That's right," she said firmly. "Just as a thing for my health. I'm trembling from it," she said in a weak voice.
With an inarticulate cry of relief and gratitude, the big boy fell between Flo's legs. With Roddy's help, he got her thighs apart, her knees up, her heels against her smooth and naked rump. His pink and pulsing target gleamed wetly between the -haired pillows of springy tissue, and he fell on this blood-gorged feast with eager lips and tongue, happy to earn respite through such a totally stirring service.
And Flo, bless her, gave him, with her moans and flutters, the twitched movements of her lovely body, the ripples of sweet muscle around his hard young tongue, ample reassurance that he was, indeed, earning forgiveness. The miracle fire of love and heat set the itch in her clitoris, in the depths of her slippery vagina, into a train of flame that could not be contained. Over the moving dark head, over the spread of her warm thighs where cum-spasms were beginning to move in her belly, the woman looked at her nephew's understanding face. And winked.
After the boys had helped her up and onto her bed, a help she barely needed, she pretended drowsiness, as much to give them a chance to pull themselves together as for her purposes.
She heard them in the next room, their voices muted, and then, through some trick of acoustics or her ears' acuity, the voice of the visitor: "If I got hung for it, I don't care! She was wonderful! Sweet and good and wonderful! And what a fuck!"
She opened one eye when Roddy slipped into the room, once more dressed for the street, and held out her arms as he fell on her breast, his happy tongue probing into her mouth.
"You were great, Aunt Flo!" he whispered. "He's so scared you'll tell his ma, he'd suck your ass if you wanted it!"
"Over my dead body," Aunt Flo hissed. "My cunt's easier to get to, anyhow. Roddy," she said seriously, "I'm so glad you understand. That's a marvelous quality! You're all I need, of course. But after you're gone-well, it's nice to know I have someone, isn't it?"
He boldly picked up her nearest breast, giving it a hard, quick suck. "You need someone even when I'm here," he kidded her, and she shook with silent laughter.
"I'm going to walk him home; he's shook up pretty bad," the slender boy whispered, arid Flo, patting his hand, said: "Go ahead; I'll be fine! Take your time."
She heard them go and, remembering the sensation as her nephew had shoved his cock into her still tender pussy just as the other boy jammed his rancidly delightful cock into her throat, almost leaped at the surge of cum-itch that went through her loins, starting deep inside her.
"Jesus!" she said aloud, "all this fucking and sucking is making a goddamn nympho out of me!" She laughed with a deep pleasure. She reached down cautiously, pressing her fingers alongside the fat lips, just at the hairlines, not daring to press in where her still tender clit was recovering.
"I could cum, just thinking about it," she murmured.
She got up and went to the bathroom, thinking that a warm shower, a long drawn out voiding of her bladder, with the hot piss running down her thighs, might ease the itch of sex need.
The water was fine, and the sensation of urine, at blood heat, spurting through her outer lips, was delightful. But, far from easing her desires, they seemed hotter than ever. And it was then that Florence Allison crossed a new Rubicon.
She dried herself and dressed exactly as she had been the day before, except for clean underpants. She had not washed her pussy; indeed, she had only rinsed away the day's accumulated sweat. "If Minette is what I think she is-if she feels like I think she does-well, we'll have to see!" She had spoken the words aloud, and grinned as she realized it. Only when she felt on top of the world did she do this.
At the Sorensen's side door, listening until she heard a rattle of pans in the kitchen, Flo called: "It's only me!" and went in without knocking.
Her tiny, well-stacked neighbor, her friend of years, looked fussed for just a second, no doubt remembering her own faux pas of yesterday, and then ran to the big blonde with joy plain on her face.
"Flo!" the dark little sprite whispered. "Oh, Flo, I'm so glad to see you!" She pressed her face into the big woman's soft, pneumatic breasts, and looked up with a flushed face. "I was so hot yesterday! I wanted something so bad! No, damn it!" she cried, "I'm through with horseshit! I'll talk plain, and if it gets me in trouble-well, it'll just have to! You know how I felt, and I think you felt that way, too. I didn't want 'something!' I wanted you!"
She clung to Flo so hard that the tender hearted blonde could hear Minette's heartbeats, and she kissed the little woman on her shoulder, her own big, smooth arms going around the small but womanly form. "You just turn your face up here, baby," she said huskily, "and let me kiss you like I've been dying to do ever since yesterday!"
She was just a wee bit startled at her own certainty. When she and Marge had been girls, even before they had, in effect, taken it away from their sad, lonely, and horny father, they had played with each other's twats, crazy to see, to learn, what pleasure these secret and lovely parts of their bodies would bring them. Or give to others. And they had never stopped, not really. Even after she had married Bert and Marge had become Mrs. Chuck Casper, whenever they got together, the least they had was a tender rub of tit on tit, a happy, sweetly understanding finger inside a welcoming hole.
But not with anyone else, any other woman.
But now, just because of the unbridled passion let loose by her incestuous pillage of her young nephew, simply because she had become an atomic pile of smoldering sexuality, she was aching to eat the cunt right out of the sweet body of this lovely, responsive woman. And it felt absolutely wonderful!
They staggered into the darkened bedroom, where closed Venetian blinds and drawn drapes gave them a marvelous sense of privacy, and they were kissing, tonguing, pulling at each other's breasts as they sank onto the bed. For a moment, Flo thought it might be awkward, getting clothes off, but it wasn't, at all. Just a matter of herself tenderly peeling off the brief bikini-type sunsuit from the solid, beautifully molded form of the little nymph, while the latter did her the same loving service.
And no fooling around, that was what made it so complete, so marvelous. No talk, no careful "feeling each other out."
The agile little brunette, leaving her slobber on Flo's shriekingly sensitive titties, leaving the feel of her warm, strong tongue in the big blonde's mouth, turned at once to dive her shining face directly at the suddenly weeping cunt of her neighbor.
"Oh, God!" Flo gasped as the sweetly probing tongue went unerringly to her softest, tenderest spots. Her inner muscles contracted with as much need as if she had been virgin for weeks, and she felt the rasped nerves in her vagina writhe against each other.
Above her face, there was that sweet, soft little pussy, deeply covered in fine, crisply curled hair. It had the beautifully rank aroma that Flo knew was arising from her own glad pussy, and she rooted with her nose in the thick, sopping wet hair around Minette's cuntal cavern. There was a rush of the dew of love that trickled down into her mouth and showed how achingly hot was the need of the smaller woman. Oh God, Flo silently prayed, thank you for this extra richness, this great gift of love!
Fierce, achingly lovely cum-fires were gathering in her stoked belly, her very womb seemed to open with her desire, and every lick of the small woman's tongue, every touch of her lips, every breath from her excited nostrils, brought the climax nearer. It was sweeter, more delicate, than anything that Bert or Roddy or Scott had given her. Why not? Only a woman could know with such absolute certainty, exactly where to lick, how hard to suck, and Flo felt herself let go inside, let go with such dramatic suddenness that she feared for her mind, feeling that divine rush of pain and love and sweetness shoot from her.
"Oh, lover!" she screamed, still holding her lips, her mouth, in contact with the dark red labia that shed their drops of love in her eager mouth, with their strong tastes of cunt juice, of heated flesh, of woman-piss. "I'm cuuummmiiinnnggg! Oh, baby-doll, please! Suck me!" Her cunt was going crazy, it was turning inside out, and above her, in the slickly sweated valley of Minette's perfect little ass, she saw the dark, almost purple pucker of her friend's asshole, opening and closing, showing a pink, clean inner slickness with every delicate convulsion.
In a passion harder than she had ever known, she clamped her mouth over that tender, strongly savored hole, sticking her big tongue into it, feeling the small body leap with a new joy as she rammed into the shrinking anus again and again.
When she had blown the very last of her cum-spasms out of her achingly happy twat, when she freed her bruised tits from the knee-grip of the strong little woman above her, she felt a momentary revulsion for her act. Sucking assholes! It was wild, perverted, crazy!
And then, with another agile turn, here was that sweet, well known face, tears of joy coursing down those firm cheeks, and Minette fell on her with open mouth and driving tongue, sucking at her lips, running her tongue inside and around Flo's teeth and gums, utterly given to the sharing of a sex act which Flo had never tried before, not even with her beloved sister.
They lay in a silence broken only by loving little murmurs, soft little grunts and groans of passion. Once, Flo whispered: "Women seem to know, don't they?" and then screamed to answer her own question as Minette's tenderly stroking fingers, away up in the big blonde's cunt, deliberately scraped a fingernail along the mouth of Flo's womb.
The expectable awkwardness stemming from such an unprecedented sexual variant did not appear, and Flo, satisfied but by no means depleted, knew why.
"You're so sweet, my dear, so cute and sexy and stacked-you must have been on my dirty old mind for months. Maybe years," she whispered, holding the youthfully firm body against her. One of her hands was busily and tenderly wiping up and down between the deeply -haired cuntlips; the aromas of lust entwined both women; there was no limit to the fun that lay in their future, and they reveled in their secret knowledge, each of the other.
At last, with a deep sigh, Flo muttered: "I've just, got to have a little more of this before I go home. Here, baby, spread it all out for me. Oh, my God! That's so beautiful!" She dabbled lightly in the flowing, blood-red convolutions that shed the slick, clear cum-juice in a broad smear down into the dark wedge of the tiny woman's butt, and pressed her loving mouth in gentle force on the wide-open snatch.
At her first strong suction, Minette began to thrash, her voice rising in agonized pleasure: "Flo! Eat me! Oh, God, Flo, suck it! Higher, baby, higher! Ohhhhh! THAT'S IT! My CUNT! Mother of God! Ohhhhh! AAAAaaaarrrrgggghhhh! AAAAaaaarrrrgggghhhh! Fucky, fucky, fucky! Ohhhhh, ohhh, ohh, please, please, please!"
She was crying when she began to lick her own cum from the tired lips, the wet cheeks of her big neighbor. They clung in a silence broken only by the catching of breath, tiny sobs of repletion, and the contact sounds of flesh on flesh, and neither of them had ever thought to see that all doors were latched, all windows secured.
"Is it right for either of us to worry about, uh, what this-today-might make us?" Minette at last asked.
Flo kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose and rubbed a casually loving hand on the swollen breast near her. "If you mean, does this indicate that we're Lesbians, my answer has to be HELL, NO!" She thought for a few seconds. "My sister and I had an interest in sex as far back as I can remember. We loved our bodies-what I mean is, we loved everything about us that gave us pleasure.
And either of us, then and now, would crawl over a hundred cunts to get to a stiff prick. And I'd gamble you're the same way." She patted the warm little ass tenderly.
"Girl sex is wonderful," she went on. "It's, oh, tender and sweet and delicate. It's a beautiful kind of love, that is, for people who want it, and can accept it fully, and can accept themselves for wanting it."
"Oh, Flo," the small brunette whispered with happy tears in her voice, "I love you for saying that!"
They dressed laughingly, giving each other little tit-feels, and belly-kisses, and one final wet, sucking kiss of lips and tongue just before Florence Allison, dignified housewife, marched out her neighbor's French doors and down the driveway.
She was weak-kneed, but not from the stoppage of breath she had undergone earlier, only from a shattering, smashing use of all the sex-power in her strong, sweet body. She went from the brilliance of sunshine into her kitchen, and from there into the semi-dark of Roddy's room, not sure of what she saw.
It was confusing. At first glance, it seemed that Minette had, as some sort of stupid trick, raced through some back way to arrive ahead of Flo-there was the same small, lush figure, the same dark hair, the same voluptuously abundant breasts, even the same big nipples, looking black in the dimness. And then a girlish voice beat at her, and she knew.
Dressed though she was, Flo felt, just for a moment, completely naked, completely vulnerable. Then, being a woman of courage, secure in her home, she asked calmly: "What did you say?"
Sally Sorensen, thirteen and wise, hard with the confidence of untried youth, said very clearly: "I saw you and Mom going down on each other! I watched you, sucking each other off! Ugh! If you could see yourselves!"
For just a second, Flo felt numb. "So?" she stalled. "What about it? What can you do?"
The girl, so boldly lying naked in Roddy's bed, undoubtedly seeing herself in some role copied from a favorite actress, said coolly: "I want Roddy. You understand? I want that cock of his. I've seen it, and I'm going to have it." She apparently ran out of lines at this point, and Flo looked at her, thinking: This dumb little chick! I can blow her down with a few words, but she heard the nervous tremble in the child's bravado voice, and saw the plea in her eyes. It came to Flo in a warm sense of humanity that she and the girl were, after all, sisters in the truest sense of the word, trapped by their humanity, having the same basic needs, the same hungers, the same weaknesses.
She sat down on the edge of the bed and, in a good humored way, put her hand out and stroked the young girl's deliciously firm, smooth belly.
Considering the "Ugh!" from Sally, she expected at the very least to have her hand pushed away. But the child closed her eyes, took her own hands to press Flo's down on her, and began a slow, muscular heaving of her rump and thighs. Sonofabitch, thought Flo. She's really hot!
She said, making her voice easy and temperate, although the warm contact with this ardent child, or young woman, she corrected herself-was pleasant and worth considering for a later time: "Sally, don't you think that's something for you and Roddy to decide between you? Not that he doesn't like you. I know he does. But he's pretty young."
The girl eyed her shrewdly. "You're smart, Miz Allison. And I know you're hot. Plenty hot. So-who knows what goes on around here?" She swung off the bed in an easy, graceful 'flow of movement and picked up a dress from the foot of the bed. "All I've got to say is-well-I've said it!"
She swung her neat, grown-up looking ass out the door, and Flo, admiring the child for her heat as well as for her boldness, was smiling when she heard Sally say, with surprise in her voice: "Oh! Hello, there! Didn't see you, Roddy!"
In a way, the confrontation with Roddy had its comic overtones, just as her tilt with young Sally. He came in, eyed his aunt with a dreadful scowl, and said in a sort of growl: "Forget that pig, hear? And don't go setting me up for hot dates! I'll pick my own friends without any help. Understand?"
She reached out her arms to him, prepared to say something placating, but he swung a fist and knocked her hands aside, hurting her wrist slightly, enough to make her angry.
She smothered an impulse to slap his face, but said in quiet anger: "You keep your hands to yourself. If you want a test of strength, I'm big enough and strong enough to whip your skinny little ass if I want to!"
She was on the verge of threatening to tell his mother, but the idea was so ludicrous that she almost broke up. Tell Marge that she, Flo, had been fucking her little boy, and that he had gotten too big for his britches?
She let him fix his own supper, staying in her room until she heard him go into his room and switch on his television before she went out for a lonely meal.
That night, she slept in her room, and Roddy in his.
CHAPTER SEVEN
During the night, Flo woke up with her throat clogged with saliva and the rank, dirty-feet aroma of an unwashed cock teasing her nostrils. There was an itching, teasing aliveness between the heavy lips of her pussy, a tingling sense of hunger all through her body. She got up and tiptoed to the door between her room and her nephew's and went in.
Her eyes accustomed to the dark, she saw him plainly, the light blanket and sheet thrown back. His incredible prick lay between his thighs, warm and soft, and his breathing was slow and deep. With a wry smile, Flo went back to her own bed and lay counting sheep for a while until the prick-hunger gradually went away so she could sleep.
When she awoke in the morning, she went in boldly to the other bedroom, leaving her filmy shortie nightgown on. "You don't look bad for an old bat," she whispered as she saw her likeness in the mirror of Roddy's dresser, watching the nightie pull up over the strong, round thighs, seeing the wink of her suddenly revealed cunt, the outlines of her big boobs.
The scrawny little kid! He looked so peaceful, so innocent! For a split second, what she had done, what she planned to do seemed horrible, unnatural, but the divine pangs of love were ripping at her vitals again, as though each nerve was out from under its protective layers of skin, and she could no more deny herself the taste of that cock, now large with the arousal of sleep and dreams and health, then she could have stopped breathing.
She dared the risk of a stubborn grudge, hoping that the boy, like herself, would have let natural good feeling swallow the last vestiges of anger. Crouching by his side, she took hold of his cock gingerly, looking at his face from the corner of one eye, and slurped it into her mouth all at once, nearly choking from her quick flow of eager spit.
As she sucked him, feeling the throbbing growth of his peter against her tongue and cheeks, she inhaled the powerful, arousing fragrances of his crotch. She saw moisture on the inside of his thin, strong thigh, and yearned to lick it, whatever it was-the drip of semen from his recharged balls, the sweat of youth and health and summer.
There was a stir through Roddy's slight body, and Aunt Flo tensed; now was the moment of truth for them both. Would he cling childishly to last night's stupid anger? Or would he, with the warm pressures of her loving mouth on his tenderest nerve centers, respond?
To her consuming joy, she felt his hands pressing on her head in the age-old and silent plea for a harder suck, and she went down hard until half of that big cock seemed to open her throat. As his hands left her blonde head, she felt one of them stroke ever so kindly against the furred split, sealed by the partially dried cunt-ooze which her inner warmth produced.
She immediately released his cock from mouth and turned to him, cradling his boyish body against hers, kissing him on cheeks and chin and forehead and lips, like a tender lover with a young bride. She put her right hand down into that warm crevice between his thighs and stroked him there, bringing her fingers up to tease her nose with their fragrance, kissing him again as he laughed.
"Oh, I'm glad you're not sore at me, Aunt Flo," the little man said. "I woke up in the night and thought of all you've done for me and I felt just awful! Letting me fuck you and all; being so good to me!" He turned and clung to her, and she felt the warm dampness of boyish tears on her trembling breasts.
She and Minette, in their savage and unskilled desire for each other yesterday, had overdone it, apparently. The itch she had felt was an inner labia chewed too fiercely, a clit sucked raw. She gently disengaged herself from her ardent nephew and patted him, saying: "I'll get us some breakfast."
He followed her into the kitchen, obviously feeling better, and ventured a joking comment: "How can I fuck that Sorenson chick when you need me, Aunt Flo? And what was she acting so bossy about?"
Flo kissed him. "She's a good kid. Really. And just as a suggestion, believe me, not trying to make you do anything, I think it would be a wonderful experience for you to get a little of that young stuff. Remember, you'll have to go back to Oregon some day, and the place for you to use that great peter of yours is on young girls. In young girls, I mean."
He looked doubtful, and Flo, actually thinking, this time, about the girl's feelings and Roddy's sex education, took hold of his cock and said, with a smile: "It's selfish to keep a rod like this away from someone who really digs it.!"
He pressed against her, laughing, and said: "Will you help me put it in her?"
"Be glad to," Flo said. "But she's sort of young; it might cramp her style. Maybe you could try some new stuff on her; she might not go for it with an audience.
"New stuff?" he asked. "Under her arm? In her navel?"
"You know what I'm talking about. Up her cute little asshole. That would send her shooting up the wall, I'll bet!"
"Wow!" Roddy's eyes were smoky, his voice strained. That would be a memory to take home!
Flo had a thought, a thought that shot sex fire all over her body. "If it'll make you feel better, I'll watch! How'd that suit you?"
She showed him a ventilating grate that was high on the wall between his room and hers, and a stout table. "I'll stand here. Keep a couple of lights on so I can see it all. That ought to stir you up. Give you confidence, too. And listen, don't worry. She's crazy for you, and I'll get my kicks just watching. Tell you the truth, you've fucked me sort of raw."
She listened smilingly as her nephew phoned the girl down the street, making the "okay" signal with thumb and forefinger as he haltingly, but successfully, asked the girl to come over.
"My aunt's not at home," he said. "We'll be alone."
It seemed only a matter of seconds before the kitchen door was nearly knocked off its hinges, and Flo, suddenly cramped with a sick pain of lust, trembled as she watched the two kids begin their raw, frankly animal mating ritual.
"Your cunt is very pretty," Roddy said in a primly social manner, and Flo almost choked with laughter and lust as the girl, bound to feel self-conscious, sat on the edge of the bed with opened thighs as the young boy held the fat and hairy cuntlips open, so I can see, Flo thought, her cunt aflame.
He let Sally help remove his surfers, and she fell to her knees, holding his cock against her cheek, looking up at him rapturously. "Oh, my goodness, Roddy, it's as big as I remember it," she whispered. "What a scary day that was! I thought that that old Marianne Jennings had scared you!"
"Naw," the boy denied, turning to wink at the grating, so that Flo felt she really was helping him by peeping. "I don't scare easy. It was just-well, too many people around."
"Gee, Roddy, don't kids fuck together up in Oregon?" the dark little girl asked. "It's fun to get four or five couples together, and everybody fuck everybody!"
"Oh, sure," the boy said easily. "But you know, first date, that kind of thing. Anyhow, maybe I don't want to share you!"
She took his cock in her mouth, and Flo saw her young tits swell with her inner heat as her cheeks sank in. She had a gift for sucking a cock, Flo observed.
It gave the older woman a sense of pride to see what Roddy did next. He pushed her mouth away, tumbled her back onto the bed, and laughingly drove his mouth deep into the streaming red cuntlips he exposed by holding the young pussy open.
As his head bobbed and Flo could imagine the hard licking he was giving the willing girl, Sally exploded in a wild yell of cumming, a crazed thrashing of her body.
"Ohhhhmmmmm! Ohhhhmmmmm!" It was a wordless moan, a scream of lust and fuck-joy. Her full, beautiful young breasts, their nipples large with cunt-heat, rolled and jounced, and Roddy's hand, reaching up, took one and squeezed it with such brutal excitement that the tender flesh plopped out between his fingers like potter's clay, and the woman-child's screams grew wilder.
The slender little kid rose from between the slowly twitching thighs. There was, Flo could swear, an aroma of hot cunt so powerful and thick that it swirled through the grate and into her nostrils. It made her mouth water.
"Roddy, please. Roddy?" The girl's voice was small and humble, and Roddy, leering triumphantly, answered her: "Yeah. What do you want?"
She reached blindly for his cock. "Would you fuck me?" She bumped her young body up and down invitingly.
"Good God!" Flo whispered to herself. "She's exactly like her mother! I wish I could fuck her, myself!"
There was a new scream of delight as the small boy with the man's cock, holding the blood-gorged lips wide open, slogged into the clutching cunt, looking so strangely mature on such a young girl. To Flo's surprise, it went in easily, and she thought: Well, it's hot and it's slick, and it's had big cocks up it before. God, watch the kid fuck! For little Sally, only yesterday, it seemed to Flo, a timid, spindly child with matchstick legs and eyes too big for her narrow face, had wrapped her strong, smooth legs around Roddy's narrow back and was giving him an expert, hard, businesslike fuck. Every time he pulled back, the child relaxed her legs; every time he drove into her, she slammed his cock deeper by the force of her strong muscles. Flo could imagine the powerful thud of that cushiony cockhead against the small, hard cervix, and the girl's wild groans, timed to Roddy's pile driver thrusts, made a symphony of heat and fuck-fire and wildly burning lust.
Three more times the girl's screams announced a blinding cum, but Roddy, apparently in full charge, smiled down at the flushed, happily strained little face.
"Keep cumming, baby!" he panted as she cried out once more in a great, inarticulate scream. "Wrap some cunt around it! Make me shoot it!"
And Flo, her legs like spaghetti, let herself down from the table. "If I passed out up there," she muttered, "I'd crack my skull!"
She went to a squat, broad chest on the far wall and opened it. There were a number of bottles in it-her and Bert's little commissary, they called it. She poured a stiff drink of good Scotch and drank it neat, licking her lips, letting the heat in her belly draw some of the fire away from her cunt.
When her heartbeat got back to normal, a matter of seconds, she climbed back on the table and got a shock.
From somewhere, Roddy had gotten a tube of K-Y jelly, a lubricant so slick that, as Bert said, it would permit a camel to fuck a gnat. He was intently slathering the clear goo on his distended penis, and Sally, bless her adventurous little heart, was on her hands and knees, her dripping young pussy, her tiny brown asshole, shining with her cum fluids. As his aunt watched, the boy used his thumb to smear Sally's anus.
"You're sure this is okay, Sal?" he asked. "My dick's pretty big. And I never did this before. It looks like a mighty tight little hole!"
"Go on," the child said breathlessly. "It'll go in. Bigger things have come out of it, haven't they?" She laughed nervously. "Anyhow, I want you to cum." and Flo realized that, after all that hard sogging intercourse, all the sweet friction of that baby cunt, Roddy had held his load. Until he's anesthetized, Flo mused.
She found herself clenching her jaws so tight they ached as she watched that cock, seeming so impossibly dangerous, push against that tender young sphincter. Push and stop. And she almost screamed at Roddy to stop as he, very matter-of-factly, took a big dollop of the lubricant and drove his thumb deeped into that childish asshole.
The girl leaped in anguish, but did not cry out. Flo could see her face, drawn with fear and pain, and tears were flowing silently down the pink cheeks.
But this time, Roddy grasped the smooth young thighs, laid his stretching tool right into the slot, and shoved with all the power of his back and loins.
Flo saw it go in and could not believe her eyes; it must have been almost like have a baby, the area around the childish asshole stretched and white, but the thick cock went in and the girl screamed, a high, pitiful, babyish cry of pain and despair.
She had fallen forward onto her face, now turned so that Flo could see it, covered with tears, but with a weird look of triumph. Her wide-open butt, with the dark cunt hair showing as a fringe at the juncture of her thighs and torso, remained up, supported by Roddy's grip around her thighs.
His face, too, was tense. After all, he might be suffering some pain from that virgin entry, the watcher thought. She was licking her lips and trying not to faint or scream or fall off the table; her cunt was a rising storm of sensation, a burning, fiery furnace of lust about to pop, a sex-abscess too swollen to last. She heard the girl scream again, this time in a wild spasm of joy, and, through misted eyes, saw white drops of Roddy's sperm pumping out of the violated rectum with each deep, pistoning plunge of his cock.
She got down carefully and waddled toward the bed, but the rub of cuntlip on cuntlip, with a clitoris swollen to bursting, was too much. With the lascivious sight of the boy humping the young girl in her mind, with the imagined sensation in the girl's tortured, burningly pleasured bowels, Flo fell to the thick carpet, muffling her own triumphant cries of orgasm as she let a vast, draining cum rage hotly through her body, a tidal wave of roaring, soaring heat that seemed to turn her blood to molten lava, her cunt to a convulsing, devouring mouth that was eating its own walls.
When she recovered, glad she had not gone into one of her dangerous comas, she weakly mounted the table again, smiling at her raunchy desire for the sickeningly hot sights of two kids wallowing in sex.
Roddy was now standing between the lovely thighs of the teenager, his head on one side, and he was stroking her dark hair as she tenderly cleaned up his cock, pulling back the foreskin, looking seriously at each fold, taking the big head into her mouth for a suck, then looking up with adoration. It was obvious that this clean-up was, truly, a labor of love, and Flo, her heart pounding, wondered if the kid was tasting her own shit, if she had the stomach for such fuck-mad earthiness.
The soft voice came to her clearly. "Thank you, Roddy! That was so-so scary wonderful! It hurt!" She shifted her lovely young ass, making a comic face, and anyone could see that she was intensely pleased with herself.
She kissed the softening cock again. "I didn't know I was so clean inside," the child said wonderingly. "It tastes like, oh, I don't know!" She blushed. "Anyhow, thanks!"
Roddy leaned over, took the young girl by her shoulders, looked into her eyes. Then he kissed her, throat muscles proving that his tongue was wrapped around the girl's.
As he straightened up, his hand lifted one of the richly fashioned young breasts, and Flo saw an angry bruise on its smooth surface. Considerately, Roddy kissed it, then kissed the girl on the cheek, and said: "No, Sally. It's I who should thank you! You're so sweet and marvelous!"
She hugged his naked body with raw abandon, tears flowing unabashedly, her cheek against his crotch. "I never knew a living soul could be so sweet!" she sobbed. "Oh, Roddy, give it to me again! Not today, but some time!" She took his cock into her mouth again, her face a mask of sweet young fire, then removed it and stood up, wiping away her tears.
"I'll let you have me any time, anywhere," she said thickly. "And any way! Oh, Roddy, you're so great!"
She put on her skimpy little dress, not trying to hide or wipe away her tears, but openly happy.
Flo, feeling warm and tender, went back to lie quietly in her and Bert's bed, smiling at the ceiling.
She was startled when the door from the kitchen flew open, and the young girl walked straight to her bedside, putting out a soft hand to Flo's cheek.
"Did you watch, Miz Allison?" the child asked humbly. "Did you? I hope you did. Oh, Miz Allison, what you did for me is the sweetest, the kindest thing anyone ever did for me. Even my mother!" She stooped and kissed Flo's cheek, now wet with her own tears. "I know it was just your kindness," Sally whispered. "You knew you didn't have to. You knew I'd never say a word about you and Mom!"
CHAPTER EIGHT
There is often a quality of unreality in our moments of triumph. Florence Allison, with the three most outrageously wild days of sexing in her happy, cock-hungry, fuck-struck life, walked about in a daze, barely able to believe it all.
With her inner fires subdued by such a marvelously generous gift of sex, knowing that she not only had Roddy, but young Scott Eisen, her friend Minette Sorensen, and, as a lovely bright possibility for the future, hot little Sally, it made her mind swirl in a warm, hazy-red climate of passion, ready to break out at the drop of a pair of pants. Or panties.
And Roddy, young, serious, ardent Roddy, going through a transition from timid pubescence to swaggering studhood, also seemed to be walking on the thin edge of some great upheaval. And, as it happened, it almost proved their undoing.
That day was quiet, warm-to-hot, filled with the dark, shadowy promise of a night of unbridled lasciviousness. Flo and Roddy didn't talk much all day, but every time they came near each other, one or the other would reach out to pat or feel or stroke the beloved partner. Until at last, with dinner ready to come out of the oven, Flo decided to peel off the dress she had grudgingly worn all day, so that she might be ready for whatever Roddy wanted. And he, with a knowing grin, had gone into his room and was pulling off his clothes when someone rattled the front door, and there was an angry shout: "What the hell goes on in there?" It was Bert.
Flo cried out: "Coming!" snatched up a robe, unbolted the front door, and confronted a very angry husband. To her attempt to kiss him, he turned a hostile cheek, and, when Roddy, now dressed, came in and innocently said: "Hi, Uncle Bert!" the irate returnee shouted: "What the hell do mean, coming into your aunt's room without knocking? Get your ass out of here!"
At this, as Roddy withdrew with tears in his eyes, Flo blew up. "I don't know why you're on such a high horse, Mister Bert Allison!" she said with cold rage, "Come home and scare hell out of me, yelling fit to raise the neighborhood, and cursing at your nephew. My nephew," she amended bitterly. "He's no kin to you; you don't have to remind me. But by God, he's my sick sister's boy, and he's my guest!"
Bert choked, got up and walked about the room, then came back to Flo and said, surprisingly: "I must be sick! I had to come home in a hurry, not that I wanted to surprise you, but Gene Cotton-you know him; I've been trying to get my camp goods line into his chain for five years-had to come down here, so I rode along with him to finalize the deal on the flight down." He dropped his eyes. "Then-and please, Flo, for the love of God, forgive me-when I found that door locked-well, I had such a miserable feeling all of a sudden!"
Tears filled his eyes; he looked at her in mute appeal.
"Yes, Bert?" she said quietly. "What did you feel?"
The burly, middle aged man shook his head. "I though-I know it's crazy-what if you and Roddy were, uh, carrying on! Don't look at me like that, Flo! I said I know I'm crazy!"
He had sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and she went to him, her heart pounding. If his plane had been an hour later, she would have been in bed, Roddy's cock buried in her stretching, sucking, dripping pussy, her thighs spread as wide as they would go, every hair on or near her cunt sopping wet with his cum and hers. A wave of gratitude, of compassion, swept over her. She took the grizzled head in her arms.
"I lock up every time I come in the house when you're away, Bert," she said slowly, glad that this was, in every way, the exact truth. "You know I'm scared of prowlers. Especially at night. It's my only security. What help would Roddy be? He's just a kid."
Inevitably, of course they patched it up, even Roddy coming in for a pat on the back from his uncle, and a mumbled explanation about Bert having been dog tired, headachy, all that sort of thing, and he had been very good about it, although Flo didn't like the sardonic look in the boy's eyes.
"I've spoiled it, of course," Bert said, when Roddy had gone out. "Look," he said sheepishly, opening his fly and pulling out his cock. "Would you believe I had a honeymoon-type hard-on all the way down from Seattle? And, as Flo exclaimed over that, and quickly bent to suck at the big, semi-hard thing, he said: "I guess it's just what I needed-having a burst of good business! First, the Ralph Bridges deal-I've still got seven or eight of his stores to visit. And this thing, out of a clear blue sky, with Gene Cotton. Hell, it'll be bigger than the score with Bridges! But shit! I had to ruin it!" He dropped his head so that Flo couldn't see the tears in his eyes.
She was stricken. Of course it could happen. A fellow racked along, making a living, getting older, same old pussy, same old ways to make love. Nobody's fault if he didn't have a hard-on every morning, Flo knew. Not hers. Not his. But then, all at once, something could happen to make a man feel young again; young and powerful and worthy. Her heart smote her.
Bert was so-good! So keen, really, a descriptive from the past, but very apt. And ten times the man that Roddy was ever likely to be. With all due respect, et cetera.
She pulled her robe open and drew her husband's face to her warm, pneumatically firm breasts. "Get your clothes off, baby," she choked. "I'll suck that big peter of yours right up to a cum, and you can stick it in me and spray me with your jism! Come on, Bert-baby! I'm so hot for you!"
She didn't give a damn that Roddy might be in his room, watching through the very grate she had peered through at him and little Sally. This was her man and she was his woman, and she rubbed her hands gleefully in his sweated crotch as he pulled the shirt over his head.
"You weren't kidding, lover!" she gasped, as his big cock, harder than it had been for years, slid deep down her throat and came back out coated with her spit. "You've got it back!"
Her cunt was suddenly flaming with desire, and she was glad she had been without sex all this day, because she wanted all of her response to this good man to be real, not pretended.
She screamed with genuine ecstasy as she felt the huge, red head smash between the shuddering cuntlips still smarting and itchy from the orgies of the past three days, and her happy cry: "Fuck me, Bert! Oh, God, you're so BIG!" came straight from her heard and from a screamingly stretched, dyingly happy vagina, with inner lips rasped by the thickness of her husband's stabbing, twisting, slamming, altogether wonderful prick.
Over and over his belly slapped against her big, smooth, warm rump, his balls sweeping up the flow from her engorged pussy while his solid bar of hot, hard meat smashed with sickening pleasure against her womb and the closed end of her cunt.
From far away, she seemed to be watching herself fuck and be fucked, and she thought: This is as good as I've ever had it. Bert's a man. A real man.
And when he groaned as the agony and the ecstasy of cumming began deep in his balls, and she bucked up and up, over and over, feeling the torrential flood of boiling sperm as it roared into her, its gluey heat warming her cunt-walls as he fucked into her like a mad but loveable bull, she knew the most complete happiness of her life.
She lay on her back, tears of joy streaking her cheeks, loving the feel as Bert's heavy penis, withdrawing reluctantly, seemed to turn her cunt-walls out like a dripping, oozing flower. His look was her greatest reward; he looked ten years younger, triumphant, eager.
He had his own car, having left it in a parking garage near the airport, and, when he left to meet his new client, Gene Cotton, Flo felt a definite touch of sadness, of loneliness. So marvelous that this unexpected success would reflect in his sex life! So sweet that she could expect so many good years!
The rich smell of her pot roast, simmering over low heat, reminded her that she was enormously hungry after that magnificent fuck from Bert. And also, that Roddy was strangely silent. That is, if he hadn't gone out.
She turned off the heat under the meat, put some rolls in the oven to brown, and walked over to the door to Roddy's room.
And with that one move, a panic of nerves and animalism and ethical confusion hit her. For there he was, her thirteen-year-old nephew, the big cocked child whom she had "instructed"-make that seduced, her mind told her-and he had a hard-on of such dimensions that, Flo would have sworn, he could have leaned over and sucked it with his own mouth. It was enormous, it was beautiful, and it wiped out her tenderness, her regard, for Bert.
But he was looking at her strangely, with a look she had not seen before. He looked more grown up than ever, but in a way she didn't like at all.
Unable to stop herself, feeling the storm of itchy desire flood the tenderness, the sweet sensitivity of her clitoris, her inner lips, the sudden clasping entry to her vagina, she went to the boy like a sleepwalker, knelt between his thighs, and stretched her mouth yearningly over the immense hardness, the gamey deliciousness, of that throbbing piece of hot meat.
Saliva drooled from the corners of her mouth as she carefully lipped around the soft, smooth head, seeking with the tip of her tongue for the exciting tastes distilled by the moist heat between cockhead and foreskin. And she moaned with gratitude as the boy, his hands now so experienced, reached under her arms for her breasts. And then, when pain lanced through her breasts from the brutality of his sadistic grip, she realized what it was in his look that she had not liked. It was savagery, the look of a madman, the combination of lust and cruelty that any woman fears with the deepest nerves of brain and body.
He was lucky, in fact, that she had not bitten through his cock in her sudden, blinding pain. But, as she opened her twisted mouth to scream again and again, he simply withdrew his cock, gave her a shove that sent her backward to the floor, and got up, pulling on his beach trunks, looking at her with malevolent amusement. And what he said was fantastic.
"You goddamned, stinking old whore," he said in the calmest of voices, "do you think you can fuck that has-been husband of yours and come at me with his cum running down your fat legs? Bullshit! I've got a little chickie just down the street that's worth a dozen of you!"
In confusion and pain she watched him go, but her pain was for what she saw in him, rather than what she felt for herself, or for her ego-hurt, or her loss of face. They would pass, she knew. After all, he'd be going home some day. Or back to live with his dad, if-God forbid!-Marge didn't make it. And she'd have Bert. She felt too terrible for her bright, salacious dreams of other strange peter. Or feminine delights. The itching glow had died between her fat and hairy outer lips. A warm drop or two still slid, rich and thick and warm, from her leaking cunt, but her genital system plainly said 'No go."
A lesser woman would have hated the insane arrogance which had transformed a well mannered teenager into a strutting monster. But Flo had visions of a small boy, bolstered by counterfeit confidence, who had no place to go, really, and who must, because he was without resources, come back to her soon. And so, since she knew where to find him, she went down the street to the Sorensen house.
Her heart was heavy, and she had no real desire to spy. The shock of the last hour had taken the heat away from her lavishly gifted body, the tingle from her clitoris, the flowing juice from her now quiescent vagina. She felt she was, as Roddy had implied, not much of a sex object. But still, there was a deep, wonderful, prurient interest in her which would live as long as she did, so, when she saw a straight line of brightness from a rear bedroom window, and heard a familiar voice hot with fuck-lust, she looked in.
The light was between her and the bed, but she could still see clearly enough. There was the painfully beautiful sight of a woman's body, opened for sex, thighs wet with sweat and cum-nectar, black cunt-hair wet and matted where the thick lips normally joined to close the slick and vulnerable hole, the turgid, wetly slavering inner lips. In spite of herself, the hot itch flickered compellingly in her slick channel. The nipples of her marvelous breasts, dull and dormant this past hour, began to send messages down and across her belly; their quick swelling as they filled with her hot blood making her dress seem just too tight. And to see that small boy's huge cock pistoning in and out of that dark-red cluster of labia, that kissing hole that turned its lining out as the big pole withdrew-it was too much. Truly, she acknowledged humbly, that tiny girl, that hot child with the abundant breasts and the tightly gripping cunt, had to be better than a dozen like her.
Hot, hot, hot! She saw that the boy and girl were kissing, and, in the dim light, could only imagine the details, but the rise and fall, the hammering, of the boy's slight loins as he drove his cock furiously into that streaming, responsive pussy, made all of it a sight she felt she could not longer stand. Too hot! Too near a cum! Too painfully desperate for that cock inside her own trembling vagina!
She turned blindly away in the semi-dark, staggered down the double driveway, and nearly jumped out of her skin when a girlish form loomed, and a voice said brightly: "Oh, hi there, Miz Allison! Is Mom home?"
Flo looked at Sally Sorensen blindly for a moment, then held the small girl to her breasts, leaned on her, shaking with sudden release of a pale, peculiar tension, and began to laugh.
"Come with me," she said thickly. "I believe she is."
She wondered if it might not be cruel to this young girl, to let her see her mother and her erstwhile lover, the despoiler of her anal virginity, in such a scene. But Flo was now hot in a new way, her body aflame with a dark lust, and with a deep curiosity to see the outcome, to fathom a mystery.
The two of them, the richly molded young girl and the lush and lusty older woman, held their breath as they watched. The light was diffused far from the bed; the two forms there were easily seen, but details were out of focus. Flo, with the deep realization that the girl beside her was stricken with the same lust which had shaken her, pulled the girl close to her, fondling the gorgeously firm, full, heavy young titties, feeling into the deep crevice of the young girl's ass, which had suddenly been shoved hard against her own richly throbbing loins. Her soft, warm hand slid easily into the humid crack, feeling the hot slickness of the generous flow of pussy juice. The entire bottom of the young girl's torso was as doused with cunt ooze as if the entire area was, in fact, an open pussy.
As Flo's hand touched the vaginal rim, the muscles tightened in welcome as her fingers sank in, and the girl would have screamed except that the older woman instinctively kissed her, their two squirming tongues coming hotly together. At the same moment the girl, her body writhing in the spasmodic throes of a cum, and having the advantage of being so much shorter, rammed her hand up, up hard, jamming all four of her fingers, tightly held together in the semblance of an enormous prick, into the achingly needful cunt of the woman bending over her, holding her, finger-fucking her so sweetly.
They began to cum in unison, their cries smothered by the fierce kiss that held them together at the top. As they shuddered out their mutual spasm of fiery heat and trigger-happy lust, they sank to the grass, holding each other tightly, giggling in the dark, and their kisses now were quick and short and loving.
Flo held Sally by the shoulders, looking deep into the child's eyes, and, even in the gloom, saw so much maturity, so much understanding, undemanding love, that she could have wept. But there was a voice in the room, an angry voice, and they helped each other up. It was a weird scene.
The boy, standing as if turned to stone, mouth hanging open, prick hanging slack, was backing away from a very angry Minette Sorensen. It was her voice they had heard.
"You miserable little shit!" she cried. "I gave you a fuck because you rushed in here crying, and with a hard-on! Now you tell me I'm ten times as good as your aunt! Goddamn you, she's my friend! She'd never fuck you! Get out of here before I kick your skinny little ass off!"
The two women, one thirteen, one more than three times as old, but closer than sisters, looked at each other and made a decision. As Roddy fled out the side door, Flo gave Sally one brief kiss, then walked leisurely home, certain that the girl would never breathe a word of their strange voyeurism to Minette.
She felt oddly relaxed and renewed, her pussy once more her most cherished possession, her certainty of proprietorship over Roddy re-stated as if by a court of law.
And her proprietorship of his cock.
CHAPTER NINE
If you subscribe to Nietsche's beliefs, the innate need of woman to forgive is her major weakness? if you prefer the philosophies of Kathleen Norris, you see this as a strength.
Whichever you call it, that desire to find and forgive Roddy, who must be, by now, suffering the most painful of blows to his amour propre, was like a great, warm, loving tide in the mother-heart of Roddy's Aunt Flo.
When she found him, crouched by his lonely bed, his face hidden, sobbing in the lowest depths of despair, she did not waste love or time in words, she simply picked him up like the small boy he really was-the frightened, defeated, abandoned small boy that a harsh contact with grown-up reality had made of him-and carried him to her bed.
He clung to her neck when she tried to put him down, his tear-sodden face buried in the softness of her breasts, and she, her heart full of sympathy as well as amusement, lay down with him.
He did not try to explain nor to apologize. Whether he guessed that she knew of the unexpected horror that had happened to him, when he realized it was Sally's mother that he had been fucking, he did not say. Miz Sorensen was old, as old as his mother, as old as Aunt Flo. She was a grown-up, she was the enemy, she could tell his mother. The fact that she had opened her thighs so wide to take his cock, the fact that her grown-up hand had held it and guided it into a wildly chewing, sucking cunt, that her body had gyrated wildly and happily in the act of swallowing his dickie-those things did not occur to him nor, if they had, would they have abated his fears.
No, this was haven, this warmth and cushiony humanity of Aunt Flo's lovely titties, and he made an infant's mouth, suckingly rubbing on their upper slopes, blindly trying to get to the nipple, the sanctuary, the source of life and safety.
The big woman sighed in deep and fulfilled happiness as she fumbled to pull the shoulder strap of the summer dress down, to let the big, expectantly tingling breast roll out so full and warm. She guided the nipple into the open mouth with that gesture as old as the first primate when its-or her-hairy little breast, filled with strange, wild milk, attracted the wrinkled face of that first baby ape.
She leaped with her entire body as the shock of the boy's powerful suction dragged so much of her tit into his mouth with such brutal force. She felt a pang as if a duct inside her breast had suddenly opened to let her milk flow, and remembered, smiling in the dark, that unmarried young girls of primitive tribes, by putting suckling infants to their juvenile breasts, come to the point where their nubile bodies, although never bred, can manufacture milk. The thought almost sent her spiraling out of her mind, so deep did the witch's fire of sex-heat that burned her fuck-nerves run from tit to clit.
Even stranger, she felt this need as a faraway motive, gentled by distance. Her big, soft, warm body glowed; her big, soft, muscled pussy lay almost quiescent in its moist heat; her breast, swollen and tender as a new mother's, responded as if this boy were, in fact, her newborn infant.
While she was wrapped in a golden softness of mother love, the telephone rang, and Roddy, eyes tightly closed and slight body drawn against her in a fetal ball, smacked his lips and let her go.
She heard the tinny voice, over a clatter of typewriters, say: "This is Western Union. We have a telegram for a Mrs. Florence Allison. Is she available?"
She was aware that Roddy, seemingly so far away, was interested and she said: "I'm Florence Allison. Read the telegram."
She held the telephone receiver away from her ear, and the voice, raised now to make the wording clear, was audible to both of them. "WONDERFUL NEWS, DEAR. CLEAN BILL OF HEALTH. CHUCK AND I ARRIVING TOMORROW NINE-FORTY, AMERICAN FLIGHT SEVEN FOUR FIVE. TAKING RODDY HOME. LOVE TO BOTH OF YOU." The voice stopped, said: "and it's signed MARGE. Shall I read it again?"
Flo hung up softly, her heart pumping, her throat tight with the need to weep. It was wonderful that Marge was all right. It would be wonderful to see her. But to lose Roddy! And then the Tightness of it smacked her in the face. The kid was sweet, he had an incredible cock, an unbelievable reservoir of semen. But he was so unpredictable as to be potentially dynamite.
Dynamite! Blowing his top in what must have been a spasm of jealousy, insecurity, call it what you wished. Giving her that terrible, painfully brutal torture in her breast! What the hell did a kid care if a woman got cancer, had to have a mastectomy? She shuddered, but her eyes were overflowing with tears, and she was wriggling out of the thin summer dress, baring her body with all its suddenly tingling need to be as near as possible to that boy who had used her so badly.
He lay inert, letting her disrobe him, and she was touched at the seeming frailty of his thin body. His cock lay on his thigh, looking fat in spite of his traumatic experience at the hands of Minette Sorensen, but simply a warm, damp, soft little lump of flesh.
With a moan, Flo lay with one breast on the boy's belly, instinctively going for every contact remaining to her. Tomorrow was so near!
The taste of sweat and semen as she sucked the soft, sweet morsel of man-meat into her eager mouth was so heady that she had to gulp and swallow as saliva overflowed her mouth. With her tongue, she carefully, happily pushed the foreskin back, feeling its delicate texture, enjoying the slickness as her spit made a marvelously viscous film between her tongue and Roddy's glans. She delved into the tiny interstices on either side of the cord under the head, and found two little lumps of semi-solids, like tapioca, and she gratefully rolled these rankly tasty morsels against her teeth. They were like tiny curds of some ripely aromatic cheese. She knew that, in the convolutions inside her cunt, little nuggets of taste and texture exactly like these were forming right at this minute. She remembered the flowing slick warmth, the wet-velvet smoothness, of little Sally Sorensen's inner treasure, and brought up the hand she had stroked into the girl's clutching cunt. There was still a hint of the ripe femaleness she had dabbled in, and she put the perfumed fingers around the stem of her nephew's cock, so that she could sniff the girl and taste the boy.
Dear little Sally! Ripe, lush, hot, ready, with a deep-down lasciviousness that matched Flo's own. She suddenly felt a blast of cum-itch in her vagina and in her rectum, in the deep, secret wetness that puckered and slipped and kissed around her womb. Sucking harder, she believed there was a stir of life in the warm, smooth cock. It was true! It was making a bigger mouthful.
In a mood of luxurious sensuality, Flo turned, pulling the unresisting form of the boy partly across her face, so that the swelling young prick, so manly in its dimensions, filled her throat. In a shivering fit of desire, she let her big thighs fall open, her cuntlips reluctantly giving up their sticky contact with each other, their separation creating a whisper of living sound.
She hadn't done it in a long time, but her mind was too full of the imagined colors and moistures and textures and savors of that thirteen-year-old body, Sally's young body, so like her mother's, and her need was so great that she put her fingers into her opened cunt. But the boy, seeming to be out of it, felt what was happening.
He gave a whining moan of protest, pulled his auntie's hand away, and strove to get up, to get his open mouth into that quivering, seeping nest of blood-gorged membrane. His young tongue went in and out of his mouth; Flo could feel it touching her belly at the juncture of her thigh, where the cunt-hair thinned out, where beads of sweat had formed and dried, leaving their acridly tasty saline treasures.
With a motion as precise as a craneman lowering a beam into place, she blindly but accurately moved the wide and throbbing spread of hungeringly open cunt directly to the tongue which craved it. There was a moment of terrible feeling, too much, too hot, an agony too beautiful to sustain, and then it burst through her as the boy fiercely joined his mouth to her slobbering cunt, her fluttering hole.
"Oh, God HELP ME! Oh, fuck! Oh suck! OH EEEAAATTTT ME!"
Her ass, her entire body, pumped with a sinuous rhythm, but instinct kept the boy's mouth plastered to the heaving cunt, just as a similar instinct kept Flo's mouth, screaming though it was, open around the lad's warm slick penis.
"Oh! Ohhh! Oooohhhhh!" And then, as the waves of cumming continued to sweep her until she almost went out on the tide of lust: "unnnhhh! Unnnhhhh! Unnnnhhhh!" like a dog that is enjoying something too much to keep quiet about it.
Flo let her body go loose as the final beat of the long drawn out orgasm fluttered in her lower body. She was filmed with sweat and enjoyed it behind words. In the dark, she heard the boy chuckle, felt his breath stir the hairs of her pussy.
"Thank you, Roddy," she whispered, holding his cock so tightly that it assumed a fake hardness, and she heard him giggle and say: "Oh, that's all right, Aunt Flo. I owed you one."
She shifted around, now, with their mouths together, and licked his lips and teeth and gums carefully, thrilling to the gusto of her ripely fragrant cunt smears.
"You want to cum, baby?" she asked in a whisper, and he nestled his face into the warmth of her breasts, shaking his head.
"I'll suck around just a little, then," she said softly. "I want to hold your sweet balls in my mouth and roll them around. Your big, beautiful cock's nice and firm."
She found herself, now that a cut-off date had been set, more willing to have this affair end. To come down off this high plateau of sexual abandon was not so difficult, after all. A good thing, maybe. She remembered something.
"Roddy," she said, "when you saw your dad and mother fucking, and it made you feel so horrible, was that the first time?"
He shook his head, but she took his face in her hands.
"Answer me," she ordered, and he said haltingly: I saw them lots of times! Ugh!"
"Don't give me that 'ugh!' stuff," Flo said sharply. "You got a hard-on every time, I'll bet on that! So, my boy, you were interested. And you know it!" She was now good natured about the entire thing, sure of her ground. "You just remember that. And also, remember what you decided that first day with me. That all women were human, and had a right to be, and that included your mom. You said that, yourself. It was your idea! Don't lie!"
He kissed her on one nipple and raised up to look at her face, seen in the reflected light from the open kitchen door.
"I didn't mean to lie, Aunt Flo," he whispered. "You, uh, sort of scared me, I guess. What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to be good to your mother. To do what you can to help her. Do you understand?"
Impishly, his young face in a grin, he stuck his hand down into the wet hair of his aunt's pussy, tickling around her clit, which had subsided after her big cum. "Isn't it terrible to fuck your mother?" he demanded, but he was laughing.
Flo thought for a long moment. This was, indeed, the moment of truth for the boy. And a moment of dread responsibility for her. To play God, in a sense. To direct a life, to affect at least two lives. No, she decided, three lives. Chuck's life, too, would be affected.
"Your dad's not so young as he used to be," she said slowly. "At your mother's age, my age, in a way, a woman wants sex as much as when she was young. Maybe more. A really hot woman can go half crazy, needing to have a big, stiff cock in her pussy. Can you accept that about your father? And about your mother."
"I wouldn't want mom to-go crazy. Or run off after somebody besides my dad," he said.
"Roddy," Aunt Flo said, "I want to tell you something. It's not terrible to do it-to fuck, I mean-with someone close kin to you. Your mother. Or, if you were a girl, your dad. Not if they needed it! And I don't give a damn what the world says! A woman can dry up, cry herself to sleep, starve for sex. Or, she can go out and jump in bed with every Tom, Dick and Harry she sees." She knew her eyes were full of tears. "Think about it. And don't, whatever you do, let jealousy of what your dad does to your mother keep you from loving him. I've taught you some things I think you ought to know. Things that every young man ought to know. I can't teach you to control jealousy. That's something you have to do for yourself."
He kissed her, and he, too, was shedding tears.
"I went crazy at home," he whispered. "And I went crazy today, when I watched you and Uncle Bert. Maybe I learned something. Because, now, I love you more than ever. And I love Uncle Bert, too." He sucked gently on one of her big, hard nipples. "There's enough for everyone, isn't there?" he asked, and his Aunt Flo slapped him on his skinny but potent rump.
"If you're talking about me and your mother, there's enough for the whole damned neighborhood," she said and laughed.
CHAPTER TEN
They got up fairly early, since Flo wanted to be on time without having to rush. "I hate hurry," she said to Roddy, and he smiled absently.
They had slept together, as a natural thing, but neither wanted to mention that it was probably the last time they would do so.
And, although Roddy had awakened with one of those amazing hard-ons again, neither mentioned it, and Flo, for the life of her, couldn't have said why. Nor could Roddy. It might have had something to do with Flo's talk last night, she believed. Or maybe it was just that, since their idyll was so nearly over, they chose to let it run out this way.
And, in a way, Flo was just as glad. They could meet Marge and Chuck without the scent of lust hanging over them.
But Marge knew.
"Oh, Marge, you look so wonderful!" Flo enthused, and she meant it. Just to have her beloved sister well again, not to have her carrying death within her tender, loving, sensitive womb. There, in that vast, noisy air terminal, with the smells of dust and people and mediocre cooking around them, with the hurrying throngs going in every direction, the two women, so much alike, wept openly as they embraced, while Chuck and Roddy, mute as men usually are at sentimental demonstrations, stood by, their faces noncommittal.
"And you do, too, darling," Marge said. "It must be someone new-it's been years since I've seen that look on your face!"
Flo pinched her sister. "Quiet, you dirty old woman," she hissed. "Maybe it's just that I'm glad to see you!"
Marge held her and looked at her. "You'll have to tell me, you know," she said good naturedly. "You always have. We always have. Or I'll guess. I can do that, too!"
"You'd better not," Flo warned her, and Marge, intuitive to a point of mind reading where her sister was concerned, suddenly narrowed her eyes, looked at Roddy and withdrew her glance quickly, and let her breath go out in a deep sigh.
"I'm glad, baby," she whispered, hugging Flo really hard. "Glad for him. Glad for you. Oh, Flo, he was in such terrible shape! Did he talk to you about it?"
Flo chuckled. "Maybe not everything. But a lot. I think he's straightened out. God knows, I hope SO!
They let Chuck drive, with Roddy proudly giving directions, and Marge and Flo, holding hands, sat together in the back seat.
But, when they reached home, and Chuck and his son, willing to let the sisters have their privacy for girl-talk, took a walk to the beach, they were both silent until Marge said: "Isn't this silly? As close as we've always been? As much as we think alike?"
Then they had fallen on each other, crying, and Flo said fiercely: "I won't say I'm sorry! And he is wonderful!"
"You're the one that's wonderful," Marge said softly. "Always have been, always will be! When I realized what was the matter with him-well, with that damned mix-up diagnosis hanging over me, and that trip to the tumor clinic, I just couldn't say anything. Being his mother, you know. Oh, Flo," the younger sister sobbed, "maybe he ought to stay here with you! I may not be right for him!"
"Hush!" her sister commanded. "Don't worry about you being right for him. Worry about him being right for you! I mean it, Marge! He needs sex, and he's not ready to go out on the world for it. He needs you! or Me! Remember, baby," she smiled tremulously, "sometimes it's safer to keep it in the family. And this is one of the times!"
They talked freely, then, and Flo told Marge all of it, even including the boy's frenzied blow-up the night before.
"I'll give him hell about that, again, before you leave, but I really don't think it's necessary. Let him be the man, he needs that feeling of importance!"
Marge laughed and flushed, and they kissed again. "It's like old times," Marge whispered, her eyes shining. "Remember how dad was, right at first?"
Therefore, when Roddy and his dad came back from their walk, Flo buttonholed Chuck, saying she hadn't had too much real information from Marge, and saying to Roddy: "You haven't really kissed your mother," winking at him behind Chuck. "Go in there and give her a sure-enough homecoming kiss!"
She held Chuck's eye, watching Marge and her son meet, look at each other questioningly, and then come together. What she saw, over her brother-in-law's shoulder, was a precious gift.
The slender boy, almost as tall as his mother, held her as they kissed, and Flo saw his cheeks sink in as he sucked on his mother's tongue, saw them both flow together as the heat of the long-held French kiss swept through them both, and saw Marge start convulsively as Roddy boldly put one arm down between them. The little devil's giving his mother a feel, Flo thought, and she watched with hooded eyes as she saw her sister's body, aroused by this burst of sensuality, move back and forth on her son's hand in a slow, easy fucking motion.
Later, after a good meal and after Chuck, yawning, had said sheepishly: I'm sorry, kids, but I'm dead for sleep. Anyhow, it's been a long time since you two have had a real visit," Flo had kissed Roddy hard, looked at him searchingly, and said: "Don't you want to go to bed, honey-boy? Your mom will come in and tuck you in. Tuck, tuck, you know!" and she had laughed with him and Marge.
"You think it's okay?" Flo asked. "Chuck's a sound sleeper?"
"Once he's in the sack, you could drive a Greyhound bus through the room and he'd never notice," Marge said. "That's one of our troubles, the doctor said. I'm a couple of years from 'the change' and I'm having, oh, complications from my estrogen supply. Sometimes up, sometimes down.
Spot bleeding between periods. And not enough fucking! That's what the doctors said. They thought it was kind of funny. But it happens, they told me, oftener than you'd think!"
"What a lousy thing," Flo said warmly. "And in that little town!" The sisters kissed, and Flo saw tears again on Marge's cheeks. "Well," she said, "if this works out, you won't have any more worries about that! Now, go on in and tuck your son in!"
She stood up with her sister and held her for a moment. "Imagine it's Pop again," she whispered. "And that Roddy's probably just as confused, just as reluctant, and still, just as eager as Pop was. You'll have to start it. You be the bold one at first. Once he's out of his shyness, no more worries!"
CHAPTER ELEVEN
She let her sister get into Roddy's room and waited to hear the bolt on the door slide to. Then, making a considerable show of sitting on the bed to make the springs squeak, and turning out the light, she silently climbed on the same table she had used before to watch Roddy and Sally.
Either she was in luck, or Roddy had gathered that a good light and a good view made fucking more fun.
Flo held her breath as she watched them together, mother and son, each desiring to help the other, each wildly needing what the other had to give.
It's like watching myself with the boy, Flo thought. My body and Marge's are so much alike! Her blood ran quick and hot as she saw her sister, bare and voluptuous, the true Earth Mother, kneel before her son, between his strong, slender legs, and look up at him adoringly. Whatever she whispered, it must have been the right thing, for the boy leaned back on his extended arms, smiling happily. And, when Marge's open mouth went slickly down on Roddy's cock, taking all of it in, Flo's throat ached at the thought of that smooth, warm tool going deep into the mother-throat, sucked by mother-lips.
"God, don't let me faint and fall off of here!" she whispered a prayer in panic as a burst of fire lanced through her.
She caught her breath as the boy's voice came to her, lightly, happily: "Now, you get up here, Mom, and let me do you! Oh, Mom, we're going to be so happy!"
He helped his mother up, and she unabashedly spread her legs at his whispered command, letting him feel, trembling as his fingers went out of sigh in the heated slickness of a cunt which, Flo knew, was as tight, as skilled, as responsive as her own. While he was feeling her inside, she pulled his dark young head to her breasts, mashing them flat in the deep desire to mix pain with love, and Flo gasped as the child took one of his deeply powerful sucks at first one nipple, then the other. She saw the wave of hot blood rush across her sister's gorgeously mature body, and saw her naked buttocks clench as boiling heat flared in her loins.
Marge was now stepping carefully as she crawled onto the bed, her thighs wide apart. "Afraid a little rub will make her cum" Flo whispered noiselessly, vastly aroused, vastly pleased at the roaring sexuality of this happening.
Laughing, holding her blond-fringed cunt open with two fingers, Marge lay on her back, pulling her big, smooth thighs up, up, so that they pressed her breasts down and the wet pink slash was open to Roddy's eager eyes.
"Did I come out of that little tiny hole?" the boy asked, half joking, half serious. "It looks just like Aunt Flo's"
"They stretch, but they snap back," his mother said and smiled. "Did Aunt Flo tell you what was what? And what did Aunt Flo call this, uh, little tiny hole?"
Roddy licked his lips. His cock was sticking out, looking enormous in its rigidity, and Marge, suddenly catching sight of it in the mirror, cried out: "Oh, God, baby! I can't believe it!" and reached around her thigh, grabbing for the big penis.
Roddy, smiling, let her grope for it, then pulled back and bent to kiss his mother, a hard and sucking kiss, right in the center of her blood-red cluster of squirming inner labia.
He sat up, looking pleased, and Flo saw the highlights of cum-slickness on his cheeks. "Aunt Flo calls it lots of things," he said calmly. "Cunt. Pussy. Vagina. Snatch. Twat. Whatever it's called, I sure love it!" He bent and kissed the open pussy, so sloppy-wet with its generous flow of love juice.
Marge's eyes were closed, she was gasping, her hand was groping blindly for her son's big hard-on, and Flo, from her perch on the table, whispered: "Give it to her, you little sonofabitch!" and then flushed hotly, realizing that she had been pumping her loins as if she were the one reaching for the delectable prick.
She held her breath, choking back a scream, as the boy laid the big red head in his mother's flowing channel, moving carefully until he was certain it was caught in the small opening. It made Flo turn to hot water inside, made her want to scream, anticipating the stretching plunge of that monster cock into a quivering, craving cunt that had had only too little of any sort of sex these past months. Not entirely Chuck's fault, either. A wife who's "sick," or diagnosed to be suffering with a dread disease doesn't feel like a sexpot, and her husband, especially a good hearted, serious, considerate guy like Chuck, can't see her as one. Pains, fright, blood spots-turn them off, Flo knew. Couldn't help it. And now, freed from that catastrophic fear, ready to make up for lost time, hot as only a cock-starved woman can get, Marge would be insatiable. Or almost insatiable.
The shrill, cock-crazy scream beat on Flo's ears, coming so unexpectedly, so frighteningly, that she clutched at the frame around the grill to keep her balance. Damn it! If that didn't awaken Chuck, nothing could.
She saw with amazement that Roddy had not been able to get it all the way in. It was stuck. And Flo saw why. Slick as Marge's cunt-flow was, it had not been enough. The big, dry tool, trying to enter in one violent plunge, had dragged the fat, hairy lips in part way. It was killing him, and it had to be killing his mother, who, pleasured beyond belief, and deeply shocked by pain at the same time, could only lie on her back, beating at the mattress with clenched fists, screaming: "Aaaiiiieeee! Oh, Jesus! Roddy-baby! Oh, God help me!"
Unselfconscious as a surgical nurse, although her loins were consumed by fire, Flo was off the table and around through the kitchen door in seconds. Her heat was damped by her service of love, by her sense of mission, and she stroked Roddy's back, whispering: "Ease up, baby! Stop shoving! Pull back just a bit!"
Flo saw Marge's eyes snap open, wild with a new worry, and patted her sister's broad, smooth, muscled ass, smiling down at the strained face. "Keep quiet," she said evenly. And to Roddy, "there, that's it!" for the big cock, now deep pink, was pulled out clear to the corona of the glans, and Flo patted the hard small rump, whispering: "Just hold still, now, until I tell you."
She knelt at the edge of the bed, her drooling mouth no more than six inches from the white-lipped pussy, and gently put her thumbs on the inside of the thick, fat outer lips, pulling them apart, spreading them wide, making sure there was enough girl-juice to lubricate the big, hard pole. There was. Enough for a dozen.
Holding the lips open so that their grainy pink surfaces were strained smooth and white, she whispered: "Sink it in slow, Roddy darling. There, baby, that's it! Keep shoving! Mama's kind of tight, isn't she, big boy? Lovely, lovely!"
Her voice was shaking, and Marge, suddenly aware of all that her sister had done, was doing, choked out: "Flo! Please! Get up here by me!"
She turned tear-filled eyes to her big sister, smiling in a strange way. "I thank you so much sister," she whispered. "Roddy, push it in! Hard! Sister! Sister! Kiss meeee!"
And Flo, as she had done many times in years gone by, shut Marge's mouth with a kiss as the other woman's fingers sought and found her cunt, searching out its wild feelings, its hot beauties, as their tongues locked and Marge's body writhed in a mighty orgasm.
And Flo, sisterly, considerate Flo, spending her own cum ooze on her sister's understanding fingers, joined her moans to Roddy's grunts of triumph as he spewed his cum load into his mother.
"My God!" Marge said in awed tones, standing in front of the big mirror, watching the wide, slick swath of her own and her son's cum slip and stop and slip again down the insides of both thighs. "What a load! Incredible!"
Roddy laughed with quiet satisfaction. "Ask Aunt Flo about me," he said proudly. "Ask her how often I can shoot that much!"
His mother studied him, her head on one side, then smiled.
"I hope you know how much we owe to Aunt Flo," she said soberly. "More than we can ever repay! You don't know how lucky you are to have been born into a family that, well, thinks the way we do! Oh, God, Flo!" she cried, shedding happy tears on her big sister's naked breast, "You've been so wonderful!"
And Roddy, patting his mom's naked back, said: "If you want to thank Aunt Flo, let me suck that load up and give it to her-she sure loves my jism!"
They rolled him on the bed, laughing, tickling him, and Flo, "just show this young upstart that we don't need him," as she playfully said, licked up all the leakage from Marge's thighs, sucked out all that remained in her twat, and ended by cleaning Roddy's prick of the last remaining traces.
"Now, kids," she said, tousling Roddy's hair, "I've had it, and I'm going to bed."
She kissed them both, holding Roddy very tight for a few seconds, then slid the bolt on the door to her room and went through it.
She looked back.
Marge, her eyes filled with pride and love, her mouth sweetly filled with her son's prick, crouched with her gorgeous rump, in all its divided beauty, turned partially toward Roddy. Already his hand was stroking between the lovely big thighs, and his fingers were dipping out of sight with heac bob of his mother's head. His eyes were closed and he was smiling dreamily.
Aunt Flo sighed happily and turned away. "Beautiful!" she whispered.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The drive to the airport the next morning was a quiet one. Flo was too happy to be unhappy, that was about the size of it. Marge looked like a bride, and Chuck said so. "We got some mighty good news from those doctors," he said.
"And this visit with you has really changed Roddy," the boy's father went on. "Just a little over a week, and he seems, well, more manly, more grown up, more poised."
Roddy, sitting with his dad in the front seat of Flo's car, reach back and put his hand between a pair of firm, warm thighs. "Aunt Flo's been wonderful," he said softly, "And it will be just as wonderful, being with mother, and you," he added.
"Your mother'll have to take it easy for a while," Chuck announced sternly. "You're going to have to help me. With her, I mean," and the boy nodded happily.
"I know, Dad. I want to help you all I can, always."
Flo kept her mind closed to the unhappiness that was being kept at bay by the positive feelings she had. It was going to be sad, losing that big, hard, boyishly sperm-spurting cock. It was really painful; she squeezed her thighs together as a tickle of nerve ends writhed deep up inside her. Tough to lose him! She squeezed her eyes shut, too, against the quick tears. There'd never be anything like this in her life.
Chuck parked her car between a panel truck and a small camper. It was near the air terminal, and while Roddy ran to get a hand-truck for the luggage, Chuck went in to get the boy ticketed. The blonde sisters, arm in arm, suddenly turned and began to kiss each other, a few tears showing.
"I'll send him down every summer, every Easter, for vacations!" Marge promised. "Flo, I love you for what you've done!"
Roddy pushed the truckload of luggage to the counter, Chuck accepted the tickets, and a new voice exclaimed: "Hi!" It was young Scott Eiden, shaking hands with his new pal. "Sorry you're leaving; come back soon!" he cried, and turned, blushing a bit, to the women. "Miz Sorensen told me Roddy was going home," he explained. "Sally told her." Impulsively, he touched Flo on her smooth arm, saying: "I'm glad you'll still be here, Miz Allison."
Flo's heart began to beat to a heavy, solid tempo. Under her short, summery frock, under the tight white nylon briefs, she felt a warmth glowing.
It seemed fitting, after Chuck and Marge and Roddy had passed through the jet's door, that Scott walk her back to her car.
"Hey!" he said, "you're right here by my camper!" And Flo, her eyes suddenly glazed with a morning lust, said: "Open it!" in a hoarse, cock-swept voice.
It seemed cramped, and it was hotter than an oven, but to Florence Allison it was the most wonderful camper in the world.
She lay on her back, lifting her wide, strong body so that she could thumb her panties down, while young Scott, his face twisted in unbelieving anticipation, shucked his clothes.
He was whining like a dog in pain with randiness, his thick cock so hard a cat couldn't have scratched it. Flo's dress was now off, her smooth, gorgeously heavy titties jouncing slightly, their nipples bursting with hard-held heat.
She swung her body toward the big boy in invitation, holding her thighs apart, opening up the rosy-slick split with its drip of clear, sweet juice. Scott fell to his knees and went down to her for a long, hard suck, covering the leaking hole perfectly, sending electric quivers of joy deep into Flo's belly where the teasing itch had burned for the past hours.
"Ohhhh! Jesus my lover!" Flo screamed. "Your COCK! GIVE ME YOUR COCK!" but she held his sucking mouth to her cunt as she writhed and plunged, and the deep pleasures of his tongue and lips brought shriek after joyful shriek: ' 'AAAAaaaarrrrgggghhhh! AAAAaaaarrrrgggghhhh! FUCKFUCKFUCK!"
As she mistily descended from the shattering joys of a much-needed cum, her mouth slack with release of blasting desire, and with her cunt slobbering and convulsing with the tender echoes of orgasm, the big boy, master of the situation, pushed and pulled Flo's responsive body to the side of the bunk and gently eased his stiff cock into the wet and loving mouth. To his great joy, Flo opened her eyes and gave him a beatific smile, while her slick tongue knowingly wrapped itself around the most sensitive nerves in Scott's body. She sucked and he lunged, and she took the thick penis all the way into her throat, one hand reaching to enfold his balls, so much larger than poor dear little Roddy's.
The thought made her push up sharply as a deep post-orgasmic ripple swept through her vagina, and she motioned appealingly to that juicy, hungry area.
The bunk was small, but not too small. And Scott was as strong as a young bull. Not taking his throbbing organ from its warm, sucking haven, he moved Flo bodily, turned and edged in, first beside her, then astride her chest, his balls now lying on her closed eyes as he dug his eager mouth down between the fat cushions which divided so sweetly to form a trough of tender flesh, of sensitive membrane.
As he began to suck at her, carefully going down on clit and lips and dark little hole, loving the gaggingly beautiful cunt smell, heightened by the day's heat, by the long drive, and feeling the marvelous boobs on his thighs, the softness of Flo's belly under his chest, he began to blow his enormous load of rich, slick sperm. He was fucking into the older woman's throat now, exactly as he would have fucked into a cunt, and the massive pleasure of his cumming made him suck more ferociously on the spasming slit that seemed to try and swallow him.
Her screams were muted by his beating, heavy prick, but their sharp vibration dragged extra sensation, greater sensuality, from his spouting cock.
He lay quietly and let a happy, motherly Flo clean the tender glans of every last drop. He thought how marvelous this was going to be, having someone to love him, to care for him. His mom would never do this for him.
He looked at Miz Allison's closed eyes, her tender smile as she held his softened cock. He made a decision.
"Is it all right if I call you Aunt Flo?" he asked humbly.
And Aunt Flo, indescribably happy, began to suck his cock again.
