"You lousy, stinking, drunken slut." Kevin Blake muttered, leaning against the living room door, staring at his mother in disgust.
Cora was drunk again. She had sworn to him this morning that she was never going to take another drink. She had even poured a whole fifth of bourbon and a half bottle of gin down the drain. She had promised time and time again that she was going to stop drinking, but she had never gone so far as to pour out her precious booze before.
Wincing painfully, sadly as he looked at his mother, Kevin hissed through clenched teeth, "Obscene-she is truly obscene."
Cora lay on her back on the living room couch. Her mouth was open wide and silvery strings of saliva ran down both sides of her chin. She was wearing the same checkered cotton dress that she had been wearing when he had left for school in the morning, but now it was splotched and stained. At least two buttons had been broken from the row that ran from neck to hem, and the garment was twisted and wrinkled up around Cora's fat belly and fatter hips. One of her heavy legs was bent at the knee with the shoeless foot flat on the couch cushion. The other leg dangled off the couch, twisted as though it were broken, her shoe was half on and half off.
She was wearing no panties. Her cunt looked as nasty as an open sore as it seemed to wink at him lewdly. Her blond thatch of pubic hair was sparse and so nearly the color of her pale skin that the fat-lipped cleft between her thighs appeared to be almost bald.
The erection that sprang hurtfully in Kevin's tight jeans further angered and embarrassed him. She had no right to put him in this position. It was bad enough to be an eighteen-year-old virgin, mainly because taking care of her left him no time for girls, but for her to lie there like this, turning him on against his will was too much.
He cursed her again under his breath, and tore his eyes away from her open, repulsively inviting vagina.
He had seen her and dealt with her too often like this to think that calling her names, shaking her, slapping her would awaken her. The dark, ugly stain that spread in a circle under her milk white buttocks told him that she had emptied her bladder on the couch, that her dress would be wet and soggy behind, and he would have to pull it off of her before putting her to bed.
"Mother, mother, mother," he chanted in despair, forcing himself not to look between her spread thighs, "why are you doing this to yourself-to me?"
He knew there was no answer to this question. He knew that Cora didn't want to be an alcoholic, that she had absolutely no control over her drinking. She was sick. She needed help, and it was his duty, his obligation, to help her.
"I love you, mom," he confessed, almost in tears, staring at the floor to keep from having to look into the fleshy trap between her thighs that had haunted his dreams, inflamed his imagination, for as far back as he could remember. "Dad left us-left youbecause he didn't love you as much as I do. I don't care what people say about you. I don't care how much you hurt me, embarrass me, I am not going to desert you. I'm going to take care of you just like you took care of me when I was a baby and couldn't help myself."
For long, dragging minutes Kevin stood leaning against the door, thinking of his situation, thinking of how his once happy, carefree life had changed since Cora's drinking had gone completely out of control. He had once been so proud of his beautiful mother and his handsome father.
They were the ideal family. Carl Blake was successful, outgoing, active in business, politics, and civic affairs. Cora Blake was vivacious, lovely, doting on her husband and her children, popular in the ladies' clubs, an excellent housekeeper. Kevin and his younger sister, Beverly, were both straight A students, consistently the most popular and sought after for dates. The Blakes' ranch-style suburban home was the prettiest on the block. If the American Dream had ever come true for anybody, it had come true for the Blakes.
It had taken Cora over ten years to destroy that dream, but destroy it she did. Carl had always been a heavy drinker, but he could handle it. He drank with friends and business associates, as a successful real estate broker he drank with clients, prospective buyers and sellers. He drank at the country club, and he drank at home.
When Kevin was eight or nine years old, Cora began drinking merely to please her husband socially. She often said that she didn't like the taste of alcohol, and Carl would laugh at her, tease her for getting tipsy after two or three drinks. But Cora developed a taste for the sauce, and by the time Kevin was fifteen and Beverly was thirteen, her drinking had already become a problem. Arguments between Cora and Carl became an almost daily occurrence. She became erratic and unpredictable in her housekeeping, behavior, and personal appearance.
Carl was too much in the public eye, too conscious of his image, to continue to put up with the embarrassment that Cora caused him. He sent her to psychiatrists, to clinics, to private sanitariums, all to no avail. Finally Carl had given up on Cora. He met and fell in love with a younger woman, and after arranging for the financial security of his family, he had divorced Cora and quietly disappeared.
Now, three years after his father had left them, Kevin felt like the weight of the entire world was bearing down on his broad shoulders. He was trying desperately to maintain his A average in his senior year in high school, stay in shape to hold down captainship of the basketball team, on which he starred as the six-six center, and hold down an after-school job as gas station attendant. As if that were not enough, he had to cope with his alcoholic mother and his wildly delinquent sister.
Beverly was not really a bad girl, he kept telling himself. Before her father left she had been as near an angel as a human being can be. She neither smoked nor drank: she was mannerly, obedient, sunny natured, and a joy to be with. In those days she was so sweet and fabulously pretty that Kevin proudly escorted her on dates to movies and dances. He boastfully proclaimed to one and all that the five-two, sexily stacked, blond beauty was his sister.
Now, for the past year, the fact that she was his sister was a thorn in his side as painful as the one that Cora had driven between his ribs and into his heart. The guys were passing Beverly around like a dirty book. He couldn't go into a toilet anywhere in town without seeing her name and sexual skills scrawled on the walls. B B is a whore Bev Blake sucks cock. Gang-Bang Beverly took on the whole U. Hi Football team Beverly Blake takes it in the asshole
Nobody dared say anything to Kevin about his sister, because the tall, handsome athlete was known to have a knock-out punch that he never hesitated to use in defense of Cora or Beverly. Still he couldn't help knowing about her activities, because the toilet walls gave a running account. He could tell when one of his teammates had spent a night with her, because the next day the guy would avoid him if possible, and blush and stammer in conversation with him. During the course of the year he had gotten that treatment from every player on the fourteen man squad.
Though they lived in the same house, Kevin rarely saw his sister, hardly ever spoke to her. She was out all night, almost every night, and during the day they went their separate ways.
"I've got to talk to her," Kevin said aloud. "I've got to straighten that girl out."
Now, however, he had to get his mother to bed. He went about the familiar task with the same expression of pity, exasperation and disgust that always accompanied his picking her up in his arms, carrying her into her bedroom, stripping her naked and dumping her into her big double bed.
She was soft and limp and warm as he cradled ,her against his chest. He remembered lifting her back in the good happy days when she weighed 105 pounds, and she would kick and squeal with laughter to have her oversized twelve-year-old son lifting her with the ease of lifting a rag doll. Now she was bloated from her excessive consumption of alcohol and weighed 140 pounds.
Cora was still pretty. When she was relatively sober, her big sky blue eyes were bright and shiny. When she combed her blond, slightly greying hair, it hung in a shimmering golden cascade below her shoulder blades. Her small but lush-lipped mouth was curved into a permanent seductive smile. Her turned-up nose with its starlike splash of freckles across the bridge gave her heart-shaped face a little girl quality that belied her thirty-six. As Kevin carried her to bed, though, he could not look into her face; he had to keep his head twisted to avoid her whisky-fouled breath.
He was glad that her dress buttoned up the front, because when she wore a button-less dress he had to hold her up with one arm while worrying the dress up over her head with his free hand. What with her being as limp as a noodle, and total dead weight, this was usually a chore that left him sweating profusely and cursing her roundly.
Now he simply lay her on her back, unhooked the remaining buttons that were not already open or torn off, and pulled her arms out of the short sleeves.
Straightening and looking down at her before rolling her over, he groaned aloud and shook his head in frustration and despair. In the soft light of the table lamp she was as beautiful as ever. Her breathing was normal and she seemed to be sleeping peacefully, but she may as well have been dead. He knew that he could slap her with all his might, pour cold water on her, stick pins in her, and he couldn't wake her up.
The painful erection clamped against his thigh by his confining pants throbbed and jerked, reminding him of more guilt and shame that Cora caused him. From the first time that he had masturbated at the age of eleven until today, his mother had been his imaginary sex partner. Back in those days, though, she had still been constantly beautiful, sexy, and loving. She was -the only female he had ever seen naked except his nine-year-old sister, and it was no wonder that he had locked himself in the bathroom as many as three times a day to whip his immature cock sore while imagining that it was Cora he was fucking instead of his fist.
Now, in spite of the fact that he no longer had any sexual desire for Cora, only by thinking of her could he get a quick, satisfying orgasm when he jerked off. Peggy Jordan, his steady girlfriend, was as pretty as a picture and as sexy as an open cunt, but he simply could not shoot off thinking about Peggy when he beat his meat.
He knew that he could fuck Peggy any time he asked her, but he didn't plan to ask her until they were married. He had no desire to make of her what his own sister had become, and to imagine that he was fucking her while he pounded his prick was somehow insulting and degrading. But Cora was something else again. At least three or four times a week he looked directly into her cunt as he undressed her and put her to bed, and even without this blatant, naked visual stimulus, he thought of her constantly.
He hoped against hope that she would finally fulfill one of her many promises to stop drinking, that she would one day release him from his bonds of servitude to her drunken helplessness. He wanted to be a normal eighteen year old, to go out on dates, maybe even fuck some of the girls who already had a reputation for looseness. In the meantime he had to content himself with jerking off like a pre-adolescent every night before he fell asleep, every morning as soon as he awakened, and sometimes once or twice during the day. No matter whether he did it one time or six in any given day, though, each and every time his fantasy fuck was with Cora.
He looked down at her with anger and disgust twisting his long slender face. He wanted to slap her, punch her, kick her-anything to get some sort of response from her dead drunk body. But in spite of his anger, his hard-on ached and throbbed, demanding attention. He had to get the soiled dress from under her, get to bed, and get relief.
Rolling her over on her stomach, he roughly snatched the garment from her body and dropped it on the floor. For a moment he stared coldly at a large discolored lump on her right shoulder, and a similarly purplish-blue splotch on her left buttock.
"She fell," he said aloud without pity, "at least twice, and she fell hard. Tomorrow she won't even remember it. She'll wonder how she got those lumps, why her shoulder and hip are so sore."
Lying on her stomach with her hair fanned out on the pillow she looked young again, shapely again, and sexier than ever. Her protruding belly was not visible, her waist dipped in at the sides as it had always done, her sloping, pear-shaped buttocks stood tall and round in smooth, mouth-watering prominence. Her thighs were slightly spread, and merely by bending his head to the side he could see her thick-lipped, unused cunt. He groaned aloud again.
Out of pure frustration he slapped her on the ass as hard as he could.
She slept peacefully on.
He hit her again and again and again.
She gave no response whatever.
He spanked her until the entire split dome of her once white ass was beet red.
Even her breathing remained steady and unchanged. She was as good as dead.
"I can't go on like this!" Kevin fairly screamed, pulling his long black hair with both hands, clamping his dark blue eyes shut tightly to hold back the tears. "You're driving me crazy, Mama, crazy! Something has got to change-I-I simply can't take anymore!"
His hard-on had practically burst through his pants while he was whipping her, and now the pain it was giving him caused him to jerk his zipper down and haul it out to freedom. Holding it lightly in his hand, he massaged it gently. Just as his frame was way above average in length, his cock was even more so in both length and girth. It was ten inches long with a huge, mushrooming head that was all of five inches around, and the up-curving, ropy-veined shaft was as big around as Beverly's wrist.
Before he realized it, he was masturbating as though there were no tomorrow. Standing beside his mother's bed, staring blindly down at his mother's naked body, thinking the oft-repeated thoughts of fucking his mother in the cunt, in the mouth, between her tits, up her ass, he gritted his teeth, bowed slightly in his tensely trembling knees, and whaled away at his dong as though he were trying to rip it from his body.
Suddenly an idea struck him that caused him to stop his hammering fist in mid stroke. The thought was so clear, so obvious, that he wondered why it had not hit him months ago-years ago. He felt like some kind of freak being an eighteen-year-old virgin. He felt like a retarded child masturbating day and night. He could only turn himself on thinking about his mother, and here was the answer to all of these problems lying naked before him in the flesh.
Why shouldn't he fuck her? Nobody-especially her-would ever know about it. He had no real idea how one went about actually fucking a woman, he only knew that you stuck your cock in her cunt and moved it in and out. With this perfect practice dummy he could learn to fuck, develop a technique, make all of his mistakes on her lifeless body, and by the time he got around to a real, live, responding girl he would be an expert.
As these thoughts raced through his mind, Kevin was stripping naked, ripping off his clothing. Now that he had made this decision, he couldn't carry it out fast enough.
In a moment he was in bed on his knees behind his mother. He spread her thighs as wide apart as they would go. Her cunt hole appeared too small for him to get his finger into, let alone his cock, but he knew it would stretch to fit. He knew that it had stretched large enough to accommodate his father's bigger-than-average prick. It had stretched even larger to give birth to him some eighteen years ago. Now he was going to stretch it to take every inch his aching cock.
With violently trembling fingers he spread the lips of Cora's back thrust cunt, while guiding his cock-head to the opening with his free hand. He pushed gently, and the hot pink flesh opened wider. When the huge meaty bulb was only halfway in, the tiny hole refused to stretch anymore. Bracing his feet on the foot of the bed, Kevin pressed harder, forcing the blunt instrument into the too tight hole with a wrenching groan.
Once the head was past the constricted opening, the going was easier. Her cuntal channel was dry and the burning hot tightness was almost abrasive to the sensitive skin of his steadily invading prick. He knew that it was going to be tight, but he had no idea that it would squeeze his cock harder than his fist ever had. He couldn't have known that it was going to be hot. He didn't know that cunts generated heat, and the heat shocked, surprised and pleased him even more than the tightness.
As he relentlessly ramrodded his raging club inward-all the way to her womb, all the way to his hairs-the tingling tension of his imminent climax began to build in his balls. He didn't want to cum yet-he hadn't even begun to fuck, he hadn't even become accustomed to the heat and tightness of this mind blowing, heavenly hole.
"It has to last longer than this!" he shouted, jerking his cock out to the head and slamming it back in to the hilt. "It has to-IT HAS TOOOOOOOOO!"
But it didn't last longer, couldn't last longer. The inexorable forces of nature could not be denied. On the second in-stroke, Cora's cunt seemed to come alive to suck and bite and chew on the invading meat with velvet-sheathed teeth. The load of geysering jism that blasted out of the head of Kevin's cock into his mother's womb seemed endless. Eruption after eruption shot out in scalding oysters.
"EEEEEEYYYOOOOOOOOOOWWWWW!" Kevin roared like a bull. "My God! My God! Mother, what have I done!"
2
Cora was so used to waking up still completely drunk, with the inside of her mouth tasting like the floor of a chicken coop, her head throbbing, and guts wrenching, that she had been awake for five full minutes before she realized that she was conscious. Her head was by no means perfectly clear, but at least it was not aching. Her stomach was rumbling and growling, but she had no irresistible urge to rush to the bathroom and vomit up remnants of yesterday's dinner and last night's booze.
She couldn't remember any events of the preceding night, but she vaguely recalled a recurring dream-a wet dream that had been sweetening her sleep for several nights now-a dream in which she was being wonderfully, thrillingly fucked by a monstrous, unflagging, virile cock that made her cum and cum and cum all through the night. The cock was never-as far as she could remember-attached to a body. It was just a giant, long, round thing that buried itself in all of her body orifices, seemingly at the same time, and pounded and pounded away longer and stronger than any actual man could ever hold out.
For over a week now Cora had been waking up feeling better than she had felt in years. She was even able to function around the house without that customary morning drink. She would bathe, fix herself breakfast, do some cleaning, even go shopping. Only in the late afternoon would she take that "just one tiny drink to relax me." That one tiny drink always led to another and another, and still another until within an hour she had completely forgotten her firm resolve, forgotten how good she had felt upon awakening, and concentrated upon drinking herself into oblivion. She had never felt as good as she did this Monday morning, though, and she simply could not understand the change.
Cupping her hand over her mouth and blowing into it, she could not detect a single trace of the stale, stinking whisky that had fouled her breath for years. The strange, oddly brackish taste in her mouth was not exactly pleasant, but not nearly so odious as sour, morning-after whisky. She shook her head and wrinkled her brow.
"I did get drunk last night-didn't I?" she questioned herself.
"Of course I did. I killed the bourbon, and there was over a quart. Maybe I got up during the night and threw up-maybe I brushed my teeth."
That same beautiful dream had occurred again last night, and the cum dripping finger that she pulled from her slightly sore cunt proved it.
"Why should I be so sore? Do I masturbate in my sleep-am I sticking objects into my vagina in my drunken stupor without even realizing it? I-I guess I must be."
She tried desperately to think-think-thinkbut no concrete thoughts would come. The last thing she remembered was uncapping that last quart of bourbon. The fact that she woke up undressed and in bed was no mystery to her. Kevin put her to bed almost every night.
"Sweet, sweet Kevin," she cooed fondly, "mommy's little man. What would I do without that boy? I couldn't go on-I couldn't live without him. I love him so much-so much. I've simply got to stop drinking-he has absolutely no life of his own, and it isn't fair to him-but does my sweet baby complain? Never. He's an angel, he hasn't even mentioned my drinking for over a week now."
Moving her hips in bed, Cora made a face at the stickiness of the sheets under her buttocks. Her whole bottom felt greasy, gooey and sore. She reached down behind her and pressed her fingertip into the soft, spongy ring of her anus. It was sore-as sore as hell. The finger came away greasy.
"What happened to me there?" She continued conversing with herself aloud as she so often did.
"Must have been constipated yesterday, and used some Vaseline to ease the soreness after."
The answer seemed to satisfy her. She got out of bed and removed the soiled sheets without even looking at them. Taking the sheets and her other dirty things into the laundry room, she started the wash cycle and went into the bathroom.
Before stepping into the shower she used the stool. She winced at the soreness of her rectum and giggled at the windy noise of her bowel movement. Standing and glancing into the bowl, she wrinkled her brow again. There was hardly anything floating in the water except a stringy, slimy, jellylike mass. Shaking her head in puzzlement, she flushed the stool and went on to take her bath.
After drying herself, she looked into the bathroom mirror and marveled at the fact that she seemed to be getting prettier lately, in spite of the fact that she was drinking more than ever.
"It's my dream lover," she chuckled. "Now if he could help me get rid of some of this fat, and make me stop drinking completely, I'd never wake up. I'd marry the devil and sleep forever."
Thinking of her dream lover caused her to stare for a moment into the mirror without seeing anything.
"Dream? Dream?" she mused absently. "I could swear-but that's ridiculous-but then-the soreness-that-that stuff-that taste in my mouth. But I've just got to stop drinking is all-I'm going crazy-imagining things-losing my mind. How could anybody actually be doing anything to me nights with both of the children right there in the house? Wishful thinking, Cora, wishful thinking."
As she sat down to a breakfast of cereal, toast and coffee, the thought that had entered her mind in the bathroom continued to worry her.
"It's just that I need sex so badly," she decided aloud. "It's that same old vicious circle, I drink so much because I need a man so achingly, I can't get a man because I drink so much, so I drink more and I hurt more, and it has gotten to the point where I am imagining things. Healthy people have been known to die just from believing that they were sick. Virgins have wanted babies so badly that their periods have stopped, their bellies swelled, and they have come down with morning sickness. And now I'm waking up mornings with a sore ass and a belly full of cum because I want to fuck so badly I can taste it -I can actually taste it."
As she straightened up the kitchen she was still picking at the subject, chatting with herself as though there were another person in the room.
"It's all Carl's fault-goddamn that man. He took my eagerly given virginity when I was seventeen, and no other man has ever touched me that way. I loved him so much then. He was such a wonderful, considerate lover-I could never get enough of his big gorgeous cock. I didn't need his country clubs and dinner parties, all I wanted was to love my man and be loved by him. And it was wonderful-wonderful-until the kids came.
"We hadn't been married but a year while I was carrying Kev, and Carl was still after me-we made love nightly, right up until the night that he took me to the hospital. But when Bev came along, he seemed to lose interest in me. The fatter I got, the less he wanted to make love with me. He stopped completely during the seventh month, and didn't touch me again until Bev was almost three months old."
Cora shook her head sadly and wandered about the house, flicking dust from furniture where there was no dust, rearranging things that needed no rearranging.
"Twice a week," she suddenly spat, "if I was lucky, once in a while three times in one week, and that's all I could wheedle, cajole, and entice out of him. He was still charming and witty, loving and considerate, wonderful with me and the kids, but in bed with me-nothing! Even on those nights when he went through the motions, that's all it ever amounted to-going through the motions. I had to masturbate myself to a climax every single night after he went to sleep, otherwise I would have gone crazy."
Cora had slept late. She looked at the clock on the living room wall and was surprised to find that it was already two in the afternoon. Suddenly her throat became unbearably dry, and her hands began to tremble. Licking her lips and rubbing her sweaty palms down her hips, she hurried to the liquor cabinet and flung it open.
There were lots of bottles in the glass-doored chest, but most of them were empty. She flung the empty ones out on the floor. A wine bottle was one-third full. She bit the cork out with her teeth and drained it without taking it from her lips. Dropping the now-empty bottle beside the others, she searched more calmly now for something more substantial, something that would knock the misery, longing and desire from her head.
At the very back of the cabinet on the bottom shelf she found a one half-full quart of gin. As she hauled it triumphantly out and poured a water glass half full, her hands were shaking so violently that she wasted almost as much as she sloshed into the glass.
"I should have seen it-I should have known," she accused herself bitterly after taking a healthy swig of the clear, burning liquid, "but I had to begin chasing after him to his parties, conventions and conferences before it dawned on me that he was chasing everything in skirts.
"By then the kids were old enough to stay home nights alone, and the only way I got a chance to see him at all was to tag along with him on his busy social schedule. Once a month, once-a-miserable-stinking-fucking-month, was about par for the course by then," Cora muttered, tears of self-pity coursing down her cheeks.
"I hated alcohol-I told him repeatedly that I couldn't stand the stuff-it made me sick just to smell it. But he insisted, forced it on me-told me that I looked silly not drinking in crowds where everybody drank. And stupid little me let him get me to the point where he was sending me to bed with a bottle instead of his cock. And I fell for it-fell for it hook, line and sinker. And look at me now!"
Cora drained her glass and refilled it. She seemed surprised that the bottle was empty, but she didn't concentrate on the empty bottle; she turned her attention immediately to the brimful glass.
"This is enough," she said after sipping enough from it that she could walk very carefully to the easy chair in front of the TV set without wasting any, "I'll drink this, and won't drink anymore today."
Setting the glass on the end table by the chair, she turned the set on. Sitting down, she sipped her drink slowly as she watched a soap opera for a few minutes. In no time at all she was looking at the screen without seeing it. She had draped one leg comfortably over the arm of the chair, pulled her dress up to her waist, and had her hand down inside the waistband of her panties, idly, scratching in her pubic hair, thinking of Kevin and how he had stood by her so loyally throughout all the bad times.
"He was so popular with the girls," she said aloud. "The telephone would ring practically every five minutes, and three times out of four it was some little girl wanting to talk to Kevy. I needed him-I couldn't let them take him away from me. And depending upon my state of drunkenness, I would either explain to them sweetly that Kev was busy with his studies, his job, and that he really had no time for them, or I would scream and curse at them, call them dirty little whores and threaten to scratch their eyes out if they didn't leave my Kevy alone.
"And the angel-the perfect angel-never once jumped on me for running his girls away. They would tell him what I said to them, and he would either agree with me when I was right, or apologize for me when I was wrong. 'Mommy, I love you,' he used to say. 'You're my best girl, mommy, my only girl.' "
Cora smiled and dug her fingers deeper inside her panties, gently tickling the sensitive bud of her fat, itchy clit.
"The only boy I ever dated was Carl, and he was already twenty-two when he started taking me out, so I never really dated a boy, and I was flattered that this beautiful child called me his best girl-his only girl. I know that incest is wrong, and I would never even think of actually indulging in sex with Kev-I don't think-but it became so easy to imagine that I was a teenager again and he was my boyfriend and-oh God-Oh God!"
By now Cora's fingers were twirling around the tingling surface of her quivering clit. She had shucked her panties down her legs, kicked them under the chair, and gone to work in earnest on the meaty little love bud that furnished her with her daily orgasm. , "It-it's-the d-drinking that m-makes-m-me want him th-this-that way," she stammered, panting and moaning, biting her tongue as the sensations from her loins sent electric jolts throughout her being. "It-it's the d-drinking that makes m-m-me want him to-do it to me-do it to me-stick his big thing in m-m-meeee and take me-take me-I've s-seen it-it-it's so huge-b-bigger th-than his father's -ohhh m-much-much bigger! Ohhh, Kev-Kevywhy don't you j-just take your p-pay for your services-j-just t-take meee, darling-t-take me-I c-couldn't s-stop you even if I w-wanted to, and I don't want t-to, darling-I d-don't-D-DONNNN-NNN'T!"
Cora flopped back limply in her chair, letting her breathing coast back down to normal, waiting for the trembling to stop in her legs. Picking up hr glass, she saw that it was half empty and took a small sip.
"What if he does just that?" she mused. "What if that's what is happening to me nights when I think I'm dreaming, and I wake up sore in both holes, full of grease and cum and feeling so good-so good."
"No," she rejected the thought immediately, "you're indulging in wishful thinking again, Cora."
"But what if he does?" one part of her mind persisted. "After all, you're not exactly repulsive, even if you are gaining a little weight. He sees you naked -strips you naked-almost every night. He is at or near his sexual peak, according to Kinsey, and he obviously isn't having sex with anyone else. You are always dead drunk at those times, and he knows that nothing he could do would awaken you. Why not-why shouldn't he? It isn't as if he were trying to seduce you-he has no reason to have any fear of rejection or detection. I'll just bet he is-I'll bet he's doing it to you every single night."
"That's silly," Cora laughed, blushing as though there were actually another Cora in the room arguing with her. She was excited-intrigued by the idea -still she rejected it. "What about Beverly-does she watch? Does she hold his balls and guide it in for him? No way-there's no way that he would even want to, let alone carry out the act with me especially with Bev in the house, they're too close, they're like Siamese twins."
"Shit-as far as you know he might even be fucking Beverly, too. What do you know about Bevy? When have you seen her last?"
Cora bit her knuckles, trying to remember when she had last talked to her daughter-last seen her. For the life of her she couldn't remember. She couldn't remember the last time she had even thought of the girl's existence. She had seen her fairly regularly a few weeks-months?-ago when she came home from school in the afternoons. But Bev had always been in a big rush to get to pep squad practice, some school club meeting, or go to the library or out on a date. And by that time of the day Cora had always been so tipsy that she was in no shape to really talk to the girl even had she stayed around the house.
"She must be all right," Cora decided. "She's a smart girl, a good girl, she can take care of herself-I don't have to worry about Beverly-I'd bet my life that she is still a virgin-and then there's sweet, sweet Kevy, mommy's little man, to look out for her. Both of my kids are just too good to belong to a drunken sot like me. I've got to stop drinking-I can do it if I put my mind to it-stop feeling sorry for myself. I have especially got to get closer to Bevy, girls her age need a mother."
Cora emptied her glass and looked at it pitifully, hungrily, wondering how she had drunk so much so fast.
"Now is as good a time as any to quit," she told herself. "I won't even order any more-I'm through with the stuff for good."
For five minutes she felt good about her decision.
It took her another ten minutes to convince herself that if she ordered a case or two, she need not drink it. Now that she wouldn't be drinking, she would be having people in and she would have to have something on hand for them to drink. Besides, that would be the real test-to have the stuff in the house, right under her nose, and still not take a drink.
Picking up the telephone, she hummed softly as she dialed a number.
"Hello. This is Cora Blake, 2136 Glenview Drive. I would like to place an order, if I may. Send me six quarts of Old Taylor, four quarts of Gordon's Gin, one-no, make that three fifths of. . . ."
3
Beverly Blake was without question the prettiest girl at University High School. Her jade green eyes were huge and sparkling bright. Her long, straight blond hair bounced off the succulent globes of her traffic-stopping ass. Her nose was thin, flaring, with tear-shaped nostrils, her mouth was large over snow white teeth, and her lips were an erotic poem of love and desire.
The sexy beauty of her body was enhanced by the fact that she wore the miniest of micro-skirts, and hot pants so hot that they were rumored to have induced heat prostration in several older men. She wore no underwear whatever, and she usually had a pack of boys following her up and down the halls, and especially up the stairs, trying desperately to sneak a peak up her naked ass at every opportunity.
Beverly knew the effect that she had on boys, and she played it to the hilt. She made sure that they had several occasions each day to discover that she wore no panties under her scandalously short skirts.
Her bright smile and firmly bouncy, big-nippled tits were directed at anything in pants, in a standing, open invitation.
Beverly never said no to any boy who asked her to fuck. Freshmen, sophomores, juniors, seniors, good looking, ugly, fat or skinny, black or white-Gang-Bang Beverly took them all on, singly and in groups.
Now, as she rushed from her final class of the day to the principal's office where she had been summoned by Mr. Wycliff, she went over in her mind all the promises she had made to half a dozen single males, and a final group of three of Kevin's teammates.
Let me see now, she mused happily to herself. Ted Carter will be waiting in his car in the parking lot. We drive to his house for a quickie before his parents come home from work, then he drives me to the deli where I am to meet Fred Sims at five. Fred works there, so at the first opportunity we sneak back into the store room and knock off a piece. I told Joe Morgan to meet me at the deli at six. We go to his pad and pretend to be studying in his room while his square parents sit out in the living room watching TV. Don Hodges picks me up at Joe's at seven. He just wants a blowjob, so we drive around the back streets until I get him off in my mouth. And-let me see-who's next?
A tall, pimply-faced youth caught up to her and said, "Hi, aren't you Beverly Blake?"
"Yes, that's me," Beverly smiled. "What's your name?"
"Tom Scott. What are you doing tonight, Beverly?"
"Sorry, but I'm booked solid for tonight, Tom.
Try me tomorrow, but you'll have to make it early. I'll meet you in the library after my nine o'clock class."
"Wow! You're just like they said you are," the boy grinned happily.
"You better believe it-only more so. See you in the morning, Tom."
As the boy went on his way, Beverly resumed her interrupted thoughts. Let me see now, where was I? Oh yes, I've just finished blowing Don, and-heck what was that boy's name? Oh my goodness, I've forgotten who he was and what we were supposed to do. Maybe it will come to me, maybe it won't-no big thing, he won't run away, he'll be back-they all come back for li'l Bevy!
' Then I finish the night off the way I love it best, she thought, hugging herself in anticipation. Stanley, Bruce and Bob-two beautiful black studs and one groovy white. And the part that makes it so much better is the fact that they are my prissy, prudish brother's teammates. When they shower together after practice tomorrow the sanctimonious bastard will see three big cocks that have all been buried in his baby sister's mouth, cunt and asshole!
Just outside Mr. Wycliff's office, Beverly was stopped and propositioned again. She liked the guy's looks, and since she couldn't remember who she had promised after Don Hodges, she told him to meet her in front of the theater at seven-thirty.
"I wonder what Mr. Wycliff wants with me," she mused, rapping softly on the principal's door. "I don't think I'm in any sort of trouble-no class cuts to speak of-good grades-no pot or booze. Maybe he wants some of the famous Bev Blake pussy. Wow! The principal-that would be a gas."
"Come in and close the door, Miss Blake," Brad Wycliff ordered curtly, glaring coldly at Beverly through horn-rimmed glasses.
Brad Wycliff was a very handsome, dark-haired young man who ran his school with a firm but liberal hand. He related to the kids perfectly, most of the girls had a crush on him, and he was well liked by staff and students alike. Still Brad was known as a no-nonsense administrator who clamped down on and punished flagrant violations of the rules swiftly and decisively.
Beverly's eyebrows went up at the angry look on Brad's face. In hopes of softening that look, she sat directly in front of his desk, propped her feet upon the bottom rung of the chair, and spread her knees ever so slightly. She wasn't giving him a clear shot, just letting him know that if his eyes indicated interest, the gates of paradise would swing open wider.
Brad's eyes indicated no interest at all. He stared directly into Beverly's face. Beverly clamped her knees tightly together.
"I'll get straight to the point, Miss Blake," he said without preamble. "Your days at U. High are numbered. Your reputation has become such that you are casting a dark, ugly shadow over the entire school, which leaves me no alternative but to remove you permanently from this institution."
Beverly plaved it innocent. "I don't understand you, Mr. Wycliff."
"You understand me perfectly. Your name is a standing filthy joke. Most of the other young ladies are furious at you for insulting and degrading the entire female student body with your shameless behavior. If you have no decency, no self-respect, you could at least respect the feelings and morals of your fellow students. You are an obnoxious, misguided, perverted child, Beverly, and I personally don't want you stinking up my school any longer. Since we are only about two months from summer vacation, I have been trying to hold off until then, and simply not allow you to re-enter in the fall, but I am not waiting any longer.
"If you desire a hearing by the faculty, the school board, or even your peers, be my guest, I'll gladly set it up for you sometime this week. I am preparing a letter of explanation to send to your mother, and I will wait for her answer before your final dismissal, but today is Monday, and no matter what the outcome, your relationship with University High School will be officially terminated this coming Friday. Any questions?"
"Yes," Beverly said, fighting to control her anger, embarrassment and shame, "I have some questions. Is this expulsion because of my sex life?"
"Primarily."
"What do you mean, primarily what else?"
"Your dress-your more than indecent exposure."
"So if I begin wearing panties that part will be taken care of?"
"Partially-but only that part, and that is far from enough."
"I don't have sex in school, or even on campus, so tell me what business is it of this or any other school what I do with my own body?"
"I have already told you-you stink. You are stinking up the school and we can't stand the smell any longer."
Beverly became even more angry, but she controlled it. "If I am shit, people who handle me are bound to have at least some of the smell rubbed off on them, right?"
"Right."
"Okay. Now since your nose is so sensitive to unpleasant odors, I think you should investigate some of the male members of your staff-but take a can of air spray with you because they must stink as badly as I do."
"Don't give me any innuendos and veiled threats, young lady!" Brad thundered, slapping the desk. "If you have had anything to do with any of my staff outside of the classroom, name me some specific names and I guarantee that they will leave this school before you do."
"I'm not making any threats, and I am not giving you any names," Beverly replied calmly. "Just call a teacher's meeting of the male faculty tomorrow. You need not ask any of them point blank if they have had anything to do with me. I don't want you to put anybody on the spot. Just tell them why you are expelling me from school. If they all agree with you, do your worst-kick me out-you'll never hear anything about it from me again."
"Fair enough," Brad concurred, "but you listen to me, young-"
"You have made your point," Beverly interrupted sweetly, "and I think further discussion would be superfluous. May I go now? I have still got at least seventy-five guys who have not sampled my goodies yet and, according to you, I have only got four more days to get around to them."
Though she was smiling prettily when she walked out of Brad's office, by the time Beverly had taken a few steps down the long, empty hallways, she was almost in tears.
She hated herself, was sick and disgusted with herself, but she could not help herself. She had to do what she was doing or she would surely end it allcommit suicide.
"All I want is love," she sobbed under her breath, "attention, affection. I want to be touched, hugged, fondled, kissed like I used to be when our family was together and loving and happy-like I was when Kevy loved me-took me out on dates just like I was his best girl. He used to tease me, wrestle and play with me, talk to me about my troubles. He would hold me tight-kiss me-oh God, what will I do? Where can I go if Mr. Wycliff expels me from school?"
She thought of her challenge to Mr. Wycliff and said, "Fourteen male staff members, and eight of them have fucked me. If they will just tell the truth -and I know they won't-I've got a chance. The scandal would be too great for him to fire them all.
Oh, Kev-Kevin! she silently screamed. Help me, please help me! I can't stop them, Kevin-I don't want to be like this-I hate doing this-but it's like a drug addiction-the attention, the gang of guys always after me, looking, smiling, feeling-I'm too weak-too far gone-help me-pleeeease help me!
Beverly stopped at the front door and looked out at the parking lot where Ted Carter sat patiently waiting behind the wheel of his car. He was staring at the front door, and Beverly stepped hastily back out of his range of vision. She was trembling, like a leaf, and tears that she had not even noticed were streaming down her cheeks. She looked around for another way out. He probably had not seen her yet, and she could sneak out of the back door, or one of the many side doors.
"I don't want him," she said resolutely. "I'm not going with him. But where can I go otherwise? Mommy will be drunk and bitchy if I go home. Kevin has forbidden me to come and talk to him on his job-I've got no girlfriends that I can go to. If I go to a movie, the deli, anyplace else that the kids hang out, I will be just picked up again-maybe by even a bigger loser than Ted-maybe by three or four guys-and-they will talk me into a gang-bang.
"No-no-no-no-no," she chanted miserably, "I don't want it-I-I-j-just c-can't take any more!"
Turning to run back down the hall, she stopped short and ducked into an open doorway as Brad Wycliff came out of his office and closed and locked the door behind him. Hastily wiping the tears from her face with the back of her hand, she wheeled briskly out into the hall without looking back at the approaching principal.
She walked slowly in front of him with her head held high, her shoulders squared, and her nubile young ass swaying with exaggerated lewdness. She knew that with each step she took the hem of her flaming red micro-skirt flipped high enough to expose the rosy round bottom of her naked ass cheeks.
To make sure, however, that he got the message loud and clear, she purposely dropped her purse and bent to pick it up without bending her knees.
Brad's shocked gasp was clearly audible behind her.
Retrieving the purse, she dashed laughing from the building, and Brad heard her call to Ted Carter, "Sorry to keep you waiting-come on, let's go get it on!
4
Kevin couldn't wait to get home from work when he closed the filling station at eleven. o'clock on Monday night. Up until a week ago he had dreaded seeing the last car pull away from the pumps, he had cursed the hands of the clock for moving so fast, dragged his feet, spent unnecessary time sweeping the station out, unnecessarily rearranged parts displays-anything to delay the moment when he had to go home and face his drunken mother.
Tonight, however, just as he had done every night for a week. He turned off the outside lights at ten forty-five, swept the station hastily between the last few customers, counted the money and put it in the safe, locked the pumps and the station door, and hopped into his car at eleven on the dot.
Before, almost in tears, he had slowly driven the ten blocks to their suburban home, pulling up to a full stop at each crossing. Now he exceeded the speed limit, only pausing at crossings, laughing all the way. Kevin had had more fun, more pure, sweet pleasure in the past seven nights than he had had in all of his eighteen years combined. "Wow!" He hooted out of pure exuberance, feeling like the king of the world, pressing harder on the gas pedal.
After that first, two-stroke rape of his helpless mother he had felt so guilty and ashamed that he had actually gone into the bathroom and picked up a razor blade to slash his wrist, cut his own throat, castrate himself-he didn't care-he only knew that he wasn't fit to live. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that he still had a raging hard-on, and his mind was still blown by the shattering ecstasy of his first orgasm in a real live cunt.
"One more time-just one more time," he had said, "then I'll do what I have to do."
He had returned to the bedroom, crawled back between his mother's thighs, and almost fainted with the unbearable pleasure of feeling his cock slide easily into the cum slick, but still hot and tight orifice. He expected to cum again immediately, so he had jackhammered his cock into the juicy hole as hard and as fast as he could, with all of his wild young strength.
After about the fiftieth stroke he realized that cuming was the farthest thing from his mind, so he relaxed and enjoyed a long leisurely fuck. At times he would stop and minutely inspect his sleeping mother's asshole and cunt. Starting to fuck her again, he would lean back and watch, fascinated, as his incredibly long pole of flesh swiveled in and out of her tiny, almost-splitting hole.
He would roll her over and fuck her from the front, lifting her heavy thighs over his shoulders, grabbing her by the ass with both hands, making damned sure that his cockhead jarred against her womb with each powerful thrust. After resting for a few moments more, he noticed that Cora was sleeping with her mouth open. He had straddled her tits and gently forced his cock between her teeth and down her throat until she had gagged in her drunken stupor.
Rolling her back over on her belly, he had tried to get his prong into her asshole. It wouldn't go. He smeared the head and shaft with spit and cunt juice, and after pushing and straining for almost five minutes, he had finally gotten the head in. .
Cora had groaned aloud.
He jerked his cock out of her rectum and waited until she was softly snoring again before going back to his original position and fucking her in the cunt from behind until almost three in the morning.
Now every vestige of shame and guilt was gone. Kevin felt good, manly, totally happy. "Nobody is hurt," he reminded himself over and over again, several times a day. "She doesn't even know that it is happening to her, so how could she be hurt? She certainly can't tell what she doesn't even know, and I'll damned sure never tell. And the best part is, it's so good-oh damn, it's too good. Never in all my wildest dreams did I imagine that anything in this life could be so good."
When he woke up that first morning, though, Kevin was trembling with fright, because he was sure that Cora would remember that he had fucked her the night before. He had scrubbed his cum from between her thighs with a bath towel, but what about that which he could not reach way up inside her hole? It would have run out and down her thighs, and she would know what it was and exactly where it had come from. He had thought briefly of slashing his wrists again.
His fears had been groundless, though. Cora had come into the kitchen while he was fixing breakfast, and if anything she looked more calm and relaxed than she usually did in the morning.
"Morning, son," she had said, pouring herself a cup of coffee. "Don't start preaching at me now-I know I broke my promise to you again, but I swear I'm going to do better-straighten out-you'll just have to give me a little more time."
"Sure mom, I understand," he had said, smiling his relief, "I won't push you-I know you can do it."
"Of course I can. I slept last night better than I have slept in ages. I feel so good today that I don't think I'll even take a drink."
"Good-good," Kevin had said, "but don't worry about my giving you a bad time-I know you're trying, mom, and together we will make it."
"You're so understanding, baby," she had said, leaning over the table to kiss him lightly on the mouth. "I don't know what I'd do without you. I've always called you mommy's little man, and even though the 'little' doesn't fit anymore, that's still what 'you are, mommy's man. Take care of your mommy, baby. Nobody else cares."
"I'll take care of you, mom," Kevin had promised -thinking, if you only knew how I'll take care of you!
And as he knew he would, Kevin had found her passed out dead to the world when he returned home that night, and again he had a one-man orgy on her unconscious body that had lasted until early morning. He had gotten his cock deeper into her asshole that night, even deeper the next night, and all the way the next. Now the priming was over, it was ready for some real action.
"Tonight," he chortled as he unlocked the front door, "I'm going to really fuck that ass-give it a good reaming out."
He laughed out loud to find her sitting sprawled on the couch with her head thrown back against the wall, mouth open, legs spread wide apart, and her wide open pussy winking at him like a fellow conspirator. She was wearing an open bathrobe that she had not even bothered to belt at the waist.
Kevin hurried out of his clothing and hopped up on the couch from a standing leap. He landed with one foot at either side of her body. Grabbing her by the hair and pulling her head upright, he eased his cock into her spit-filled mouth. He had done this so often now that he knew just how deeply he could thrust without choking her awake.
Even when she momentarily came to, though, it didn't matter, because she would always pass out again immediately. His cock was so thick that she seemed to be sucking it as he jogged it in and out of her mouth. The scraping of her tiny teeth against the sensitive flesh of his organ added spice to the pleasure that this particular act gave him.
He fucked her steadily, easily, in the mouth for five minutes before the tingling pressure began to rise in his balls. Since he had not the slightest intention of cuming for a long while yet, he stopped all movement and looked down at the overflow of spittle that wet her chin, her neck, even her tits. Just for the hell of it, he slammed his cockhead deep into her throat. She gagged, coughed chokingly, and jerked her head away as he hopped lightly backward from the couch.
Suddenly he was very thirsty. He went out into the kitchen and got a Coke out of the refrigerator. He opened the frosty bottle and stood leaning on the big icebox drinking with big healthy swigs.
"Give the old lady time to regain her composure," he joked with himself, "she'll be dead-ready when I get back in there."
Cora was so shaken that she was afraid she would. begin to babble hysterically. She had no idea how long Kevin would be in the kitchen, so she flopped her head back, closed her eyes, and began to simulate a loud snore with an open, drooling mouth. She had had this scene described too often to her not to know how to play knocked out from drinking.
She had not been pretending, though, when Kevin had come in. She had not been as drunk as usual, but she was drunk, she had been asleep. She was actually proud of herself that she had awakened at nine-thirty after forgetting herself and opening one of the bottles from her afternoon liquor order. The only reason she had not emptied the quart was the fact that she had passed out at the halfway mark.
Still she had awakened at nine-thirty, taken a shower, and before putting on a clean dress had stopped in the living room for "just one tiny drink," fallen asleep and awakened with a start when Kevin lifted her head by her hair. Her eyes had sprang open in shock, she was about to cry out, but she couldn't, her mouth was full of his cock-he actually had his cock in her mouth!
So she had been right after all! He was actually fucking her nightly, doing all sorts of wicked things to her. This couldn't go on, of course; she would have to put a stop to it, but now she wanted to see just how far her depraved son, whom she had considered to be an angel, would go with her. She was still falling down drunk, and her thoughts were jumbled and incoherent, but she was at least awake, and she had to concentrate on staying awake so that she could confront him with all of his sins, and he could deny nothing.
"One good blowjob deserves another," Kevin said aloud, coming from the kitchen and dropping to his knees between his mother's legs.
He had been sucking Cora's cunt for four or five nights now, and it tasted better to him each time. Her clit was thick and stubby, and he sucked it like a baby sucking its thumb, like he sucked her nipples when he fucked her from the front. Now, with her thighs pulled over his shoulders, he stuck his tongue deeply into her cunt hole, ran it up and down the deep, sweaty crevice of her fat ass, speared it as far as it would go into her yielding, sucking asshole. Then, taking his time, savoring every centimeter of her cuntal territory, he worked his way back up to her standing clit and latched on to it with teeth, tongue, and lips.
Cora thought with terrifying panic that, she was going to empty her bladder, shit on herself-there was no way under the sun for her to remain passive, maintain her pretense of unconsciousness-this was too good. Nothing in all her life had been this good to her. She bit her tongue until her mouth filled with blood. She wanted to scream out her ecstasy. She was about to cum, and already the orgasm that had not yet even hit her was better than any orgasm she had ever had. She was already cuming in the outlying areas of her body. Her toes were curling in orgasmic voluptuousness, her fingers were cramped in convulsions, her nipples seemed to be bursting like ripe fruit, her belly heaved and churned, and she knew that when her loins exploded that she was going to scream at the top of her lungs, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Mercifully Kevin stopped sucking before the detonation of his mother's cum bomb. He simply detached his mouth and stood up chuckling softly.
"Can't get too carried away yet and forget the time," he said as though he were actually addressing her. "It's highly unlikely that Gang-Bang Bev will be coming home tonight-three or four in the morning, maybe, and then she will sneak quietly into the bathroom, wash the cum from her overused cunt, and sneak to bed. But by then you and I will be safely in your big bed, my sweet, passive fuck-dummy. By then I will have torn you a new asshole, knocked your womb up to your belly button, shoved your tonsils down your throat. Cora, baby, I love you-if you only knew how good you are to me."
Lifting Cora from the couch and fairly trotting with her to her bedroom, he stood just inside the bedroom door, tossed her high into the air, and she landed bouncing in the middle of her bed.
"I'll think about it tomorrow," Cora whispered silently to herself as she rolled over on her stomach and again simulated a loud snore. If I try to think now, I'll go completely out of my mind-what was that he was saying about Bev? That can't be true! Oh my God, what has happened to us? How am I going to make it through this night? Please, baby, please hurt me-hurt me-don't make it as good as it was in the living room-I couldn't stand it-help me to keep my mind blank, something, somebody don't let me think-don't let me think!
Kevin whistled softly as he squirted jelly into Cora's rectum from the tube that he had bought just today, especially for this occasion. When the slimy goo began gushing out faster than he could force it in, he dropped the tube on the bedside table, hiked Cora's ass in the air by sliding two thick pillows under her belly, and positioned himself between her spread thighs.
Forcing her ass cheeks apart with the thumb and fingers of his left hand, he guided the flanging head of his throbbing cock to the puckered, pink, jelly-filled hole with his left.
Since that first night her cunt hole was always open ever so lightly, and with a 'spit-wet finger he could stretch it even wider, wide enough for him to look inside and see the pink flesh of her vaginal canal. This rear entry hole was something else again, though. It was always bunched completely closed, and when he stuck his finger in it, instead of opening wider, it nipped even tighter closed, biting and sucking the invading digit like a miniature fish mouth. It was always a fascinating mystery to him how his big cock could disappear so completely into a hole that was not a hole. He always felt that he was creating his own aperture, custom made to fit his cock. Now, stretched from earlier use, and oozing thick lubricating jelly, her anal opening sucked him in with a searing hot muscular pressure that caused him to yell out loud.
"ZOWWWWWEEEEE! What a fucking sensation!"
As he began to stroke in and out the sensation became more intense-hotter, tighter, juicier-he was beside himself with a boundless ecstasy. He gritted his teeth, pulled his own flowing, shoulder-length hair, kneaded, slapped, punched his mother's soft white ass cheeks.
He pounded his cock into her bowels as though it were steam driven, then in a change of pace he began making long, slow, lazy strokes. Driving it to the very bottom, he would hold it there for minutes on end, merely grounding his pelvis into her resilient, cushioning ass. He would stop briefly to rest, wipe his cock clean and diddle in her cunt for a while, but he always came back to her ass hole.He knew that he would never get enough of it, but this night he was determined to see just how much he and it could take.
He hooted and yelled and laughed like a maniac as he fucked on and on, not even getting his second wind. The living room clock chimed one loud "Bong!" and he realized that with only a few brief pauses he had been working out for almost two hours, and still he wasn't even considering cuming yet.
He still had to give that fantastic pussy a really good going over. He hadn't fucked her between the tits yet. He wanted some more deep throat action. He had a long way to go, and a long time to get there, but right now, this biting, sucking furnace of an asshole had to be subdued.
5
"I'm beautiful," Cora said aloud to herself as she stood before the full-length bathroom mirror, staring at her naked body. "I am actually beautiful. I had forgotten, I haven't felt, and I know I haven't looked so pretty since I don't remember when."
Cora was beautiful. She hadn't had a drink for a whole week, and hadn't wanted one. There was nothing miraculous about the fact that she had regained her figure in such a short time. She had been simply bloated from liquids, and when she stopped drinking her belly disappeared, and the sallow puffiness left her face. Her body was now a voluptuous 38-24-38, and she liked it that way. She liked the lustful stares and appreciative whistles that she got.
Her face was as young and as fresh as her body. Her eyes were crystal clear, her hair was vibrantly golden, her lips were a natural, flushed, coral pink. She felt just as good as she looked.
Cora turned from the mirror and began to dress. She hummed a tune as she slipped into a pair of sheer white panties, but stopped humming as she tried to think how she was going to receive her son-lover tonight. Now that she was only pretending to be drunk and passed out when he came home from work, she had to go through the ritual of setting up a convincing scene each night.
"I'll have on panties tonight," she decided aloud. "Last night I was naked-passed out in the bath tub -wow, talk about quick thinking! First I thought Beverly would never leave. She picked the wrong time to start coming home nights. I had to damn near chase her out of the house, then no more than a half-hour later, he catches me in the bathtub."
Cora thought back on the night before, and shook her head in amusement. She had planned to do the same thing that she had been doing every night this week, take a bath early in the evening, watch TV until about ten-thirty, gargle with booze, and splash some on her dress and the floor, muss her hair, lay an empty bottle on the floor nearby, and pass out with her legs open, and her dress up around her waist.
Because of the gasoline shortage, however, Kevin's station began closing at nine instead of eleven, and when he walked in at nine-fifteen, she had had no choice but to pretend to have passed out in the bathtub. She worried momentarily about the lack of whiskey smell on her breath until she remembered that she had just washed her teeth and used a powerful mouthwash.
"You crazy bitch," he cried as he lifted her from the tub, "you could have drowned."
Then suddenly he became all sweetness, tenderness and loving concern.
"Mommy," he said, "oh mama, why are you doing this to yourself? I love you so much-now more than ever-please, please, don't get any worse-don't completely destroy yourself. I don't know how I'd be able to live without you."
"I had planned to come to last night," Cora mused to herself, "but shit, I've planned to come to every night and end it-but I just couldn't last night. He made me feel like the most loved and cherished bride that ever said 'I do' to a good and loving husband. I had to let him take me, and he did -right there on the bathroom floor-he didn't even dry me off, or pull off his clothes. He just laid me down on the floor, unzipped his pants, and-oh God -oh God-he fucked me like that was the last possible time for either of us.
"Then he took me to bed, stripped naked, and made it better than ever. How am I supposed to end this thing if he keeps making it so good for me? I have got to give him a chance at a life of his own. I've got to have a life of my own, but-but I'm apparently just not strong enough yet. I know he loves to fuck me, so at least it isn't all a burden on him like it used to be-he's getting some pleasure out of it. I'll hold on to him until I get up enough nerve to respond to some of the passes I've been getting lately-"
Cora pulled on a comfortable but sexy housedress, slid her feet into a pair of sandals, and went out into the living room, still talking to herself.
"What was that young man's name?" she asked herself, thinking of the sidewalk artist who had stopped her to sketch her portrait a few days earlier.
"Uhhh-it was a simple name-uhhh-oh, it doesn't matter, but anyway, he would be just my type-young, beautiful, sexy-and he seemed to be so carried away with me. Of course, his compliments were too flowery, his flattery too easily seen through, but damn it, if it weren't for Kevy, I'd give him a chance-give him a chance to see if he could live up to all that sexy promise. At the same time, though, if it weren't for Kevy, I wouldn't be a woman that any man would even look at twice, not to mention want to make love to."
The shrilly ringing telephone cut off Cora's conversation with herself.
"Hello."
"Mrs. Blake-Cora Blake?" "Yes?"
"Remember me? Al-Alan Courtney."
"The artist?"
"Yes."
"I was just thinking about you. This is a surprise."
"It shouldn't be, I told you that I was going to call you as soon as I had finished your portrait."
"Oh yes," Cora said, remembering that the young man pretended that the portrait hadn't done her justice, said he wanted to, do it over at home, and tried to wheedle her telephone number out of her so he could call her when it was done. "Did you finish it?"
"Yes, and it's beautiful, but that's not important -you said you were thinking about me-what were you thinking?"
"Ohhh-just thinking-nothing special-wondering if you really were going to call-if you meant half of those silly things you were saying about me while you were sketching. I'm sure you say those same things to all your female customers."
"No, Cora, I don't. I'm not a phony, I'm for real, and if you'll give me a chance I'll prove it. I only say what I mean, and you do turn me on-I do think that you have a special kind of beauty that one encounters once in a lifetime. You told me that you were divorced, and that you don't have a lover. I know that you do have, but that's not important, the point is, you denied it, and that indicates to me that I might have a chance.
"Even if you were not married and didn't have a lover, you would have claimed to have had a husband or a lover just to turn me off, if you hadn't been at all interested. But you didn't turn me off, and I don't plan to stop trying until you tell me to go to hell."
"What makes you so sure-what gives you the idea that I have a lover?" Cora asked.
"I'm an artist, I study people-especially beautiful women-and there is a very special kind of serenity, a subtle, sensuous, warm and happy glow about women who are sexually satisfied, and I've never seen it so obvious and pronounced as in your face."
Cora blushed.
"But I haven't got a lover-I swear it," she protested, "and-and I'm not looking for a lover. I have two lovely children who make me tremendously happy-I've got a good life-'I'm content. What you're saying is-is ridiculous."
"I may be wrong," Alan admitted, "in fact, I hope I'm wrong. I don't care whether you have a lover or not-I'd still love and want you even if you were a hooker-a whore. Believe me, I'm crazy about you, Cora."
Cora was thrilled by the confession. She remembered vividly the tall, sad-eyed, handsome young man. She had been shopping. She was feeling giddy, young, foolish, incredibly alive. She was responsive to all the looks and smiles that she received from passing men. She had stopped immediately when the young man had asked her to let him sketch her, and had laughed and chatted with him while he did her portrait in charcoal.
He had reminded her of Kevin. He was not quite as tall, his hair was much longer, he had a full beard where Kevin had none, and she figured him to be four or five years older than her son's eighteen years; but he had the same big, masculine nose, gentle blue eyes, and sensuous mouth. His fingers were more" delicate than Kevin's, but they were abnormally long, as were his arms, his legs, and-she had blushed to think-his cock.
"I'm old enough to be your mother, young man," Cora said into the mouthpiece.
"Bullshit. We're about the same age-as if that could possibly make any difference. You may be two years older than me, but I don't care if you were old enough to be my grandmother, it wouldn't stop me from loving and wanting you."
"How old are you?" Cora asked.
"Thirty-four, and if you are a day older than thirty-four, I'll kiss your ass."
"Be my guest."
"Gladly. I'll be right over."
"Don't be silly," Cora laughed. "I-"
Alan had already hung up. Cora stood for a full half-minute staring dumbly at the dead phone in her hand.
"Oh my God," she said with an embarrassed giggle as she hung up the phone, "he's-he's actually coming over here. What am I going to do?"
She went over to the couch and sat down, half smiling, breathless, biting her knuckles.
"I'm not ready," she said aloud. "Oh God, I want to-he is beautiful, charming. He doesn't look thirty-two, but like he said, age doesn't make any difference-and to think he wants me-me."
She thought back on the day that she had met him on the sidewalk at the shopping center. She had had on a mini-dress, her belly wasn't completely gone yet, but her panty-girdle had squeezed what was left of it flat. Her bra lifted her breasts high and out. She was feeling so good, bursting with such electric, tingling vitality that she felt that she had recovered from a long, debilitating sickness-and' she had. Kevin had cured her of her alcoholism, and she was rushing around, emotionally embracing life -reaching out for the excitement of rediscovering the simple, normal pleasures that she had forgotten existed.
Coming out of one of the stores, she had stopped to admire charcoal portraits of children, women, men, drawn on huge squares of heavy yellow paper, mounted on cardboard, and leaning against the store front. The artist reminded her of Kevin, and she immediately wanted to flirt with him. His black hair reached down below his shoulders, his full, thick beard hung down to his chest, but he didn't look like the typical, dirty hippy type that turned her off rather than on.
"Hi there," he had said, "may I do you? It won't take more than ten minutes. You have a very beautiful face-extremely interesting bone structure-fantastic-absolutely fantastic-please let me do you, I won't charge you anything-it will be a pleasure."
She had blushed. "I'd feel silly standing here posing on the sidewalk."
"You needn't," he had replied, already swiftly blocking her heart-shaped face out on the sheet of drawing paper attached to the easel. "I'll talk to you. You don't have to stand perfectly still-just keep looking in my general direction-full face-good-God, but you're beautiful. You look so satisfied, fulfilled, I'll bet that you have a fantastically happy marriage."
"You're wrong-you'd lose your bet-I've been divorced for almost four years."
"Your husband was a goddamn fool. I guess you realize that now-I know that you are happier with your lover than you ever were with your husband."
"I haven't got a lover," she had said, blushing, sure that he knew she was lying. "Uhh-not like you mean, at least," she tried to amend the lie, but only making it worse.
"You're not a lesbian," he stated rather than asked.
"Of course not-young man, you're awfully fresh -how could you even suggest-I-I-don't want to discuss it anymore."
"My name is Alan-Alan Courtney-what's yours?"
"Cora Blake."
"What do you want to talk about, Cora?" "Uhhh-nothing, really-are you almost done?"
"Almost. You can move now, but don't look, I'm not satisfied with this, I can do a better job at home. I'll take it home and redo it a couple of times. With your permission, I'd like to display your portrait."
"I don't care."
"Thank you. And I'll do a couple for me and one for you. I'll call you when it's finished-what's your phone number?"
"I'm not going to tell you that."
"No sweat, I'll get it out of the phone book."
"Listen, young man-"
"Don't get uptight, you ain't seen nothing yet. I'm going to do you nude one of .these days. I'm through -you can go-I'll be calling you in a couple of days." i
And she had walked away from him excited and disturbed. She couldn't resist giving an exaggerated sway to her ass. She knew that he was looking at it, and she walked slow, giving him a good, long look at it.
"He's coming-he's coming here," Cora said in mild distress. "What am Igoing to do?"
She still hadn't decided what she was going to do -in fact, she was still sitting on the couch wondering about it when the front doorbell rang. . She felt like a high school girl about to be picked up for her first date.
"Come in!"
Alan walked in with the casual, confident air of having been calling on Cora for years. Under one of his long arms he carried a large, flat, paper-wrapped package. In his big left hand he carried a bouquet of red roses. He was wearing a white tee shirt with CORA emblazoned all over it, front and back, in huge black hand-painted letters. He had on clean, extremely tight blue jeans that reached just above his ankles, a pair of yellow, flowered socks, and clean white canvas slippers. "Hi, Cora-don't get up."
Cora blinked rapidly, and leaned poised on her supporting palms a moment before sitting back down.
Alan walked across the room, leaned the still wrapped portrait against the liquor cabinet, lifted a heavy, cut glass vase from the top of the cabinet, and strolled into the kitchen.
She heard water running, and she watched the door, waiting for him to come back.
"He's beautiful," she whispered to herself, "he's absolutely beautiful."
Alan came back into the living room whistling a merry tune, carrying a perfectly arranged bouquet in the vase.
"Thank you, Alan, thank you, thank you. They're gorgeous-lovely-nobody has given me flowers since-since-I can't remember when."
Alan only nodded acknowledgement as he sat the roses on top of the cabinet. Picking up the canvas, he unceremoniously ripped the paper from it, dropped the paper on the floor, and held the large portrait for her to see.
"My God!" Cora cried, springing up and dashing across the carpeted room to get a close up look, "it's the most beautiful thing I've seen in all my life. How did you do it?"
"With love," Alan answered.
Cora dropped to her knees, face to face with her likeness. This was the way she wished she looked.
This was what she had meant when she said to her reflection in the mirror earlier, "I'm beautiful." She was seeing inside herself, and all the inner beauty of happiness, fulfillment and love was shining out of her eyes, lying like painted powdered sugar on her lips, shaping her delicate nostrils into the smell of sensuously erotic perfume, bathing her countenance in an ephemeral halo of light. , "Fantastic-fantastic-marvelous! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she chanted happily, over and over. "I'm not that beautiful-nobody is that beautiful-but thank you, thank you for the lovely compliment."
Alan leaned the portrait against the cabinet and joined Cora by dropping to his knees beside her on the carpet.
"You didn't say that you were going to do it in oils. You must have worked day and night."
"That isn't oil-it's acrylics-easier to work with than oils, and brighter, more alive. Acrylics do you more justice. I couldn't have gotten your hair as gold, nor your eyes as blue with oil."
"My goodness, you're an artistic genius-you should be world famous-what are you doing standing on the street drawing people's pictures?"
"I dig it-don't want to be famous-my, grand daddy died about nine months ago-he was famous -richer than ten feet up a bull's ass, and sicker than shit, in more ways than one. Anyway he left me a great deal of bread-I don't know how much, and don't care, all I know is it lets me do anything that I want to do, and what I want to do is exactly what I am doing-painting beautiful pictures of beautiful people for nothing, getting laid, making love. It's a great life-fuck fame and fortune."
"Well I hope you don't think that I'm going to accept this for nothing. This is priceless-priceless."
"First I'll pay my debt," Alan said, "then we'll talk about yours."
"Your debt? What debt?"
"I said, 'If you're a day over thirty-four, I'll kiss your ass,' and you said, 'Be my guest,' and I said-"
"All right-all right," Cora interrupted, giggling, blushing, trembling, "but I-I didn't actually think -I mean-people are always saying things like 'go to hell' and 'kiss my ass' but they don't. . . ."
Her voice trailed feebly off as he took a step backward and to the side. He was still on his knees, and now directly behind her. Reaching down with both hands, he lifted the hem of her loose mini-housedress up over the silky smooth mound of her lushly voluptuous ass. With calm, forceful competence, he hooked his fingers inside the waistband of her tiny, thin panties, and shucked them smoothly down her thighs.
Pushing her gently but firmly forward by placing his palm flat between her shoulder blades, he forced her upper trunk all the way down to the floor.
She felt vulnerable, silly, defenseless with her naked ass hiked in the air before his face. She blushed to her toes. Her creamy asscheeks colored themselves a bright, flushed pink right before his bulging eyes.
"Oh my God!" he groaned, spreading his long slender fingers in an impossible attempt to cup the marvelously smooth, completely feminine globes in the palms of his hands.
"I'm going to paint your ass-just your ass woman, you have got a fantabulous one. I've seen asses that blew my mind, but yours-my God absolutely flawless-impossible-impossible!"
"So all right, already," Cora laughed, "go on and -and-do it. I feel like an idiot."
He didn't hurry. As though he were at home alone in his room, inspecting some kind of overgrown fruit that he was going to use in a still life, he ran his hands softly, gently, almost reverently over the entire surface of her upthrust bottom. Like a blind man memorizing a face by touch, he memorized every centimeter of her behind.
Gently, gently, with hands now trembling slightly, he spread her soft, yielding cheeks apart, and groaned aloud again. He opened his mouth to describe her asshole to her-he knew she had never seen it, and couldn't know how perfectly unique and beautiful it was. But he decided to paint it and show it to her; she wouldn't believe it if he merely told her.
He pressed his entire face into the slightly moist, humid valley, breathing in snorting, gulping breaths of her woman smell. His mustache and beard tickled her, his hot breath thrilled her, his soft, burning lips set her bottom ablaze. -
"EEEEYYIII!" she shrieked as his big flat tongue, rolled into a meaty flute, speared hotly, wetly, into her rectum.
His lips were doing things around the rim that caused her to twist and squirm and jerk away from him, while his tongue was doing snaky-sneaky fluttering things inside the tight, pinkish-brown hole that made her grind her splayed buttocks savagely back against his face.
"I can't stand it! I can't stand it!" she loudly protested. "Alan-Alan-pleeeeease stop!"
Surprisingly enough, he stopped.
She raised her head, and looked back over her shoulder.
"What are you doing?" she cried, though she could see clearly exactly what he was doing. "Getting undressed." "But-but-"
"Get undressed, Cora, and let's start taking care of what you owe me."
6
Though Beverly was smiling brightly as she swiveled up the hallway toward Brad Wycliff s office, she felt utterly miserable. Aside from masturbation, she had not had any sex at all for a week, and it was driving her up the walls. She had tried all sorts of substitute activities, but none of them had worked, nothing had succeeded in getting hard, driving, throbbing cocks off her mind.
She had begun going home and trying to get through to Cora, and even though her mother had been completely sober each time, they had absolutely nothing to say to each other. Cora seemed embarrassed and uneasy around her, seemed to be purposely avoiding her, leaving her to think about what she could be doing in somebody's backseat, somebody's bed, instead of trying to go straight to keep from getting kicked out of school.
Peggy Conners, Kevin's girlfriend, had asked her to stay at her house, because her widowed mother was sick and staying at her grandmother's house for care until she was better. Peggy had sex on the brain. The exceptionally pretty blond virgin had no idea what sex was actually all about, but her insatiable curiosity kept Beverly's nerves on edge and her pussy smoking.
"Why won't Kevin make love to me, Beverly?" she had repeatedly asked the younger girl. "Why won't he do it to me? What's wrong with me?"
"Nothing is wrong with you," Beverly had insisted, "it's him. My brother is so square, they could paint dots on him and play dice with him. He's a virgin himself. Can you imagine all that beautiful hunk of sex going to waste? I know how you feel-he's my own brother, but he turns me on. I know about incest and all that jazz, but I would give it to him in a minute if he were interested-but he's just not interested in sex, Peggy, I know he's not."
"What am I going to do, Bev? I'm going crazy, I want his cock in me so bad I can taste it. I have actually come out and told him that he could do it to me anytime he wants to, but he won't. I play with myself-masturbate-every single night, and sometimes during the day, and I'm tired of it. I want Kevy's cock in my pussy. Can't you help me? Can't you tell him for me?"
"I don't even see my brother more than once a week. He doesn't talk to me-he avoids me-nobody at home talks to me. My house is a cold, loveless dungeon, Peg. You know that my mother is a hopeless alcoholic, and I can't stand to even be around her. That's Kevin's main problem-he's so devoted to mom that he thinks he is obligated to take care of her."
"I can't be like you," Peggy had said, "and believe me, I'm not putting you down-I envy you-you've got so many guys running after you, making love to you-but I couldn't-I love Kevin too much. If he doesn't fuck me, I'll die a virgin. Tell me about it. Tell me how it feels to have a cock inside you, Beverly."
Peggy simply could not understand Beverly's wanting to give up the life she was leading. If sex was as good as Beverly said it was, how could she possibly not want to get all that she could. Even Beverly's explaining her threat of expulsion from school, and her disgust with herself for having become the school tramp, didn't dampen Peggy's curiosity or stop her questions.
Most of the boys had stopped pestering Beverly since " she had begun wearing panties, had lengthened all her skirts to normal mini, and tact: fully, laughingly, but firmly rejected every proposition.
She looked around with a bright eyed smile as a masculine hand grabbed her by the elbow. It was Douglas Stokes, a handsome senior who had had several repeats with Beverly over the preceding months.
"Oh-hi, Doug."
"Hey, doll, what's this I hear about our girl turning turkey-going straight? Am I included on your cut-off list?"
"Sorry, baby, but that's the way it is-doctor's orders."
"What? Say, you haven't gt a dose, have you?" "No, nothing like that, just female trouble, and until it's cleared up, no action of any kind. I'll call you when I'm straight."
"Cool-I can dig it-see you around, Bev."
"Of course you will," Beverly said sarcastically as Doug hurried to catch up to another girl, "just like all the rest of them-gaaah!"
She leaned against the wall opposite Brad Wycliff's door for a long time before getting up enough nerve to go in. Brad hadn't sent for her as she had been expecting all week. She didn't know whether she was still being expelled or not, and the suspense added to her celibacy-induced edginess.
"Well, either he will kick me out, or he won't," she shrugged philosophically as she rapped softly on his door. "I have given it one hell of a try this week, and if I still have to go-so be it-I'll go out in a blaze of glory. I'll fuck in the hallways-in the street -I'll fuck myself to death."
Brad looked painfully embarrassed as Beverly walked into his office. She sat down in front of his desk with her feet flat on the floor, and her knees pressed tightly together.
"I owe you an apology, Miss Blake," he said gruffly, his face reddening behind his horn-rimmed glasses. He jerked off his glasses and scrubbed at the lens with a clean white handkerchief.
"An apology?" Beverly repeated, puzzled.
"Yes, I'm terribly sorry and ashamed of myself for saying all of those vile and. insulting things to you the last time we met. Can-will you forgive me?"
"Forgive you? What for? Everything you said was true."
"It doesn't matter-that's not the point. What it amounts to is the fact that I had a sort of personal vendetta against you which was anything but justified. I was judging and convicting you on purely circumstantial evidence. No one has ever made any complaints to me about you-no one has ever even mentioned your name to me in a negative way. You are an excellent student, and if any of the girls don't like you, it is because they are jealous, not because you insult or degrade them as I said. I'm told that you have been nominated as a candidate for school Queen, and I won't be a bit surprised when you win the title.
"I-I guess I was just trying to play God. I was watching you-always watching you-and it tore me to pieces to see a girl as sweet and lovely as you are throwing herself away like I thought you were."
."Then-I'm-not being expelled?" Beverly said hesitantly.
"Of course not-on what grounds? You're a fine girl, Beverly, and I congratulate you for your fairness to the gentlemen on my staff, whose characters are by no means as strong as yours. You could have named names, but you didn't, and I'm glad. None of them admitted to anything, but I could tell that they weren't-uhh-clean. I didn't press it, though. I didn't want to know the truth."
Brad looked down at his desk top. He looked like he was about to break into tears.
"I've still been watching you," he said so softly that Beverly had to lean forward to hear him. "I've been watching you all week, and I'm proud of you, Beverly, proud of you."
"Watching me? What do you mean? Why were you watching me?"
"Looking at you-trying to see you every chance I could get, I know your class schedule. I'm always in front of or somewhere near the doors that you come out of or enter-haven't you noticed?"
"No. I've seen you in the halls-everybody's seen you in the halls rapping with the kids-that's what makes you so popular-that's why we all love you; you're one of us-you take an active interest in our problems. I thank you for letting me stay-I'm lucky -we're all lucky to have you for our principal."
"Oh God, Beverly, please don't say anything nice about me, I can't stand it. Call me names-curse me -I deserve it, but for God's sake don't .be nice to me.
"Mr. Wycliff what-I don't understand you; what are you trying to say exactly?"
"Do I have to say it? Can't you see it? Haven't I made myself clear? I love you, Beverly-I'm crazy about you-you drive me out of my mind, girl-I love you-love you-love you-I can't sleep, I can't think, you're on my mind day and night."
"But why didn't you tell me instead of putting me down?" Beverly asked, feeling happier than she had felt in years. "My gosh, Mr. Wycliff, you could have
"Call me Brad-at least when we're alone-and please tell me that you don't hate me. I have been such a stupid, hypocritical ass. I put you down because I was insane with jealousy. I didn't want you like the rest of them. I wanted you for myself alone-that's the only way I could live with it-and it killed me-killed me to see them drooling, chasing, pawing you-I couldn't stand it another day.
"On top of that, I'm your principal. You are one of my charges, and you are a minor. How could I possibly say to you that I love you-want you?"
"Oh Brad-Brad-I'm so happy I could die! I love you, too. Everybody loves you. There is not a girl in this high school who wouldn't give ten inches off her bust line just to go to bed with you, love or no love. I -we all-love you like silly little groupies love famous celebrities and movie stars. Yes, yes, I love you, and I'm yours if you want me-any way you want me-yours, and yours alone."
Brad was up out of his chair and around the desk in one leaping bound. He seemed to be attacking Beverly as he lunged for her, jerking her up from her chair and into his arms.
Her firm braless breasts were crushed against his heaving chest. Her hard, tingling nipples burned like live coals through his shirt. His hands were all over her, scrubbing up and down her back, squeezing, kneading, massaging her soft asscheeks, up under her dress, down inside her panties.
Her mouth was open under his demanding, sucking, devouring lips. Their tongues writhed, slithered, danced into each other's mouths. Their wrenching moans and groans were as loud and as intensely passionate as though they were locked in sexual embrace.
"L-lock-th-the d-door-somebody might. . . ." Beverly pulled her mouth away long enough to pant.
"I don't care," Brad breathed huskily, "I've wanted you for so long, Beverly, so long."
His big, searching hand was jammed all the way between her thighs from behind. He cupped her sopping wet cunt in his palm; his hard cock bucked and danced against her grinding loins.
"Be reasonable, darling," Beverly begged. "I can't stand it-we'll do something crazy-insane-if we don't stop this."
"You're right, of course," Brad sighed, pulling reluctantly away from her, letting the hem of her dress fall back down to just below her asscheeks. "We can't spoil this beautiful thing by being careless and foolish. You've got to help me, though, keep reminding me."
"Who's going to help me?"
"I'll help you-we'll help each other. And you can start by getting out of here. Go before I lose my head again, but leave me something-give me something of yours that I can take home with me-hold on to sleep with under my pillow."
"Take me," Beverly offered without hesitation. "You've set me on fire, Brad-take me home with you, but don't put me under your pillow-put me under you-sleep on me."
"No-no-no-no," Brad chanted in despair, pulling completely away from her. "I'd go crazy-I couldn't stand it. I need you like I need food and water-I want you like I want to go on breathing-but I can't; have you just for one night, or even several nights. I want you to be mine forever-I want to marry you, Beverly."
"I'll marry you, Brad-now-anytime."
"You're only sixteen, you'll have to get your mother's permission. It will take awhile--school is almost out, let's do it then-as soon as school is out. I didn't tell you, and I wasn't going to tell you, but this is my last year here. I have already got a job at a junior college in Michigan, starting in Septemer.
"I took that job because I simply could not stay here with you, and not be able to have you. Now, I'll take you with me. You can finish school there. I've waited this long, I guess I can wait a few more weeks. Just get out of here now, please. I'll see you tomorrow."
"You said that you want me to give you something, but I haven't got anything to give you. I didn't even bring my purse to school today-wait, I do have something that you can take."
With a mischievous grin on her lovely face, Beverly flipped the hem of her skirt up to her waist and grabbed the waistband of her panties.
Brad's eyes sprang wide open before he clamped them violently closed and jerked his head to the side.
"What's the matter, darling?"
"Are you trying to drive me completely out of my mind? I'd die if I saw it and couldn't get it now. Baby, baby, give them to me-take them off quickly, and pull your dress down-don't let me see it. That last time-when you bent over in the hall-II actually had an orgasm-I shot off in my pants."
Beverly dangled the sheer blue bikini panties over Brad's shoulder. He jerked them from her hand and moaned as he pressed them to his nose.
"Go, baby-please go."
"Goodbye, lover," she said.
"Goodbye, darling. I'll see you tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow."
Brad heard her open the door, but when he didn't hear it close, he turned to close and lock it behind her. He knew that he was going to jerk off as soon as the door was locked. He had no choice. He was going to hold her panties to his nose, breathe in her sweet female odor, and he knew that it would take only two or three violent strokes to release the bubbling, seething orgasm that was already on the verge of bursting free.
He froze in his tracks. His intake of breath was as loud as a hand clap. His frenzied, gurgling groan was unmistakable testimony to what was happening to him.
Beverly stood framed in the still-open doorway, her back to him. The long marble hallway was empty in front of her. The noise he made echoed hollowly down the high-walled cavern. She was bent over-way over-pretending to tie the knot in her shoe. As she heard the groan that she had been waiting for, she wiggled her ass saucily, laughed merrily, and ran out of the building without looking back.
7
"Baby, please-please-come by just for a few minutes after work," Peggy begged Kevin over the phone."
"I can't, Peg, you know I can't. I've got to get home to mom. I can't leave her there alone-she might kill herself-burn the house down-anything. She's getting better, drinking less, but she still has a long way to go."
"Oh, Kevy, please-just for a few minutes. You used to not get home until eleven and she didn't seem to suffer from it. Now you get off work at nine -I won't keep you, I just want to see you for a few minutes."
"Try to understand, Peggy."
"I am trying, I swear I'm trying, but I can't. I simply cannot understand you. I've been alone in this house for over a week now-ever since mother got sick and moved over to Grandma's. She'll be home soon, and we will have lost our only chance to be alone together."
"But you're not alone, Bev is there with you; what could we do with my sister in the house?"
"Anything that we could do if we were alone, and you know it. You know what Beverly's attitude is about sex. She is just as puzzled as I am that you won't do anything with me. She won't bother us. Please, Kevin."
Kevin wanted to go. Just talking to Peggy on the phone, he had an aching hard-on. They had all of their classes together, and always spent the lunch hour together, and he kept an embarrassing hard-on all day long. Still, when he was alone with her at night, and free to indulge his lust for her sexy young body, his cock shriveled up like a deflated balloon.
He loved the stacked, bouncy little cheerleader who seemed to be cheering him personally as she turned flips and cartwheels during the basketball season, screaming him and the team on to victory after victory. Since he had a substitute for him at the station on game nights, he had no excuse' not to be with her, but it was invariably the same. As soon -as he and Peggy got in a spot where sex was possible, he simply could not perform-he became utterly and completely impotent.
"Don't you love me, darling?" she asked, since he wasn't responding; "don't you want me?"
"Yes to both questions-you know I do, Peggy. It's just that-that-"
"It's just that you can't raise a hard-on for me," Peggy finished for him. "I'm not mad, honey, I know that happens-you needn't be embarrassed. Bev has taught me some groovy remedies for that particular problem-I'll know what to do to help you, and if at first I don't succeed, I'll gladly try, try again."
"Don't you listen to Beverly," Kevin ordered her harshly. "Do you want to be like her? Is she your idea of a model?"
"Beverly is my best friend, and you don't know how lucky you are to have a sister like her. What's the matter, Kevin, can't you love anybody-including yourself-but your mother?"
"I'm sorry, baby. I love you-I swear I love you, and I'll try to stop by tonight, I promise."
"You won't be sorry, Kev-I'll be waiting for you -I'll be in bed-naked."
Kevin bent over and grabbed his aching cock, frustrated and angry because he didn't know if it were from talking to Peggy or thinking of Cora that caused his erection.
"I've got a customer," he lied, "I've got to hang up now, baby. Listen, I get off in fifteen minutes-I'll rush home and take care of mom, and if she is all right, I'll come over-I promise."
"All right, but at least call me from home, so I'll know."
As Kevin hung up the phone he looked up at the clock and groaned aloud. Suddenly he knew the source of his erection without the shadow of a doubt. He was sweating and trembling with desire for Cora. He had already swept the station, locked the tanks, and turned off the outside lights.
"I've got to stop it," he moaned as he locked up and hurried out to his car. "I've got to give me and Peggy a real chance but I can't-I can't as long as I've got this thing going with mom. And it keeps getting better-better every time. She looks so good now-so pretty-just like she used to in the good old days. It may just be my imagination, but sometimes
I could swear that she was working with me, rolling her ass-and those fabulous muscles inside her cunt -I know it's not my imagination there-those things are always moving.
"Still I've got to let it alone-but how can I when it's there for me every night? If she would only stop drinking-if she wouldn't pass out every night and make it so easy for me. Maybe tonight-she promises every day that she will be sober when I come home, and she's getting better-drinking less-but apparently it takes less now to get her drunk, because she's still always dead to the world when I get home.
"Oh God, let her be sober tonight! This is wrong what I'm doing to her, and I know it is. I'd much rather be with Peggy, but I can't help myself-I know that I'll never be able to resist as long as I keep finding her drunk. Please, please let her be sober tonight."
Kevin walked into the house, and for the life of him he couldn't decide if he were relieved or disappointed to find the living room neat and orderly, no empty bottles lying around, no wrinkled clothing scattered about, and no Cora.
"Mom!" he called loudly. "I'm home!"
There was no answer.
He looked in the bathroom. It was empty.
He looked into her bedroom, and his erection jerked and throbbed against his tight pant leg, his breathing quickened, and he sighed his undeniable relief.
The room smelled like a distillery. The empty gin bottle lay on the floor by the bed. She was under the sheet, but it had been kicked down below her high-standing, pink-nippled breasts.
"Mom!" he called, shaking her roughly. "Mom, mom!"
Cora snored softly. From under her lowered eyelids, she stared as though hypnotized at the familiar bulge in Kevin's crotch. Only her pretense at snoring masked her panting, eager breathing. Up until five minutes before nine she had staunchly resisted going through her nightly game. The afternoon session with Alan had blown her mind. They had fucked like teenagers-like maniacs-he had made her cum and cum and cum again.
"This is all I need," she had told herself happily after Alan had gone. "I can let Kevy go now. I'll be sober when he comes home tonight, and this thing will be over. He'll never know that I know what he has been doing to me-he'll never even know that his sin-his crime-was the thing that saved my life, and put me in the position to have and enjoy this new fantastic love."
Alan had made love to her for almost two hours, and when he left neither of them had enough. She had sucked his long, lovely, slightly left-bending cock until her jaws ached. He had sucked both of her nether holes until they were so sore that he had to wait a full half-hour before he could get his cock back into either one of them. They had confessed their love over and over to each other. Both of them were completely happy; both of them had found their dream love.
When he left, he had taken the portrait back to his apartment. Cora had fought him for it and lost.
"When your lover comes and sees this," he had said, "he will know immediately that the cat who painted it is in love with you."
"You're crazy-I keep telling you that I haven't got a lover-or at least I didn't have a lover. I've got one now, though. I love you, and I love that painting, and I'm not going to let you take it away from me.
"I'm not taking it away from you. You can come over and look at it any time you want to. But I don't care how beautiful you look when you are lying, you are lying in your teeth when you say that you haven't been getting well fucked before I came along. I'm not jealous of the dude. I know you'll give him up one of these days and give me exclusive rights, but until then, I'll never have you thinking that I precipitated the breakup by confessing that I love you all over this canvas."
She had argued some more, they had fucked some more, and he had finally gone home, taking the portrait with him. She was happier and more sexually satisfied than she had ever been in her life. She could hardly wait for Kevin to come home and find her cold sober. The chain would be broken, and she could truthfully say to Alan, "You are my only lover."
The closer it had gotten to nine o'clock, however, the more nervous and uncertain she had become. It was like the many times that she had said, "I won't take a drink until such-and-such a time," and the nearer the short hand inched toward the designated hour, the more she shivered and shook and licked her lips in anticipation of that long delayed drink.
"He will want me, and he does have a right to me," she had rationalized at eight-thirty.
"Just this one last time, and I'll be sober tomorrow," she decided at eight forty-five.
"I've got to come to while he's doing it tonight," she said at eight fifty-five. I'll never be able to break this thing up if I continue to pretend complete drunkenness. So that's what I'll do tonight, I'll let him make me cum a couple of times, of course, then I'll come to. I'll be all forgiveness and understanding -I'll explain to him that I'm not mad-I understand what made him do it, but I will firmly insist that it dare not happen again. That's the way I'll work it-that's the best solution."
At nine-ten she had leaped up from the couch and dashed into her bedroom.
"Maybe if I am in bed, covered up, he'll leave me alone-not bother me on his own accord. If he doesn't want me-fine, it'll be all over. But if he does want to, I'll play the game this one last time."
When she heard his key in the door, she had shoved the sheet down off her breasts and begun to snore. Now she lay trembling with lust for his young body as though she hadn't had any sex at all for years and years.
Kevin was stark naked now. He jerked the sheet completely off her body and stood staring down at her flawless nudity.
"Her belly is completely gone," he said aloud; "My God, she gets more beautiful every day. How am I ever going to be able to stop this? Forgive me, mom-forgive me, Peggy, I just can't help myself."
Snapping his fingers as though he remembered something important, he padded out into the living room, and Cora heard him dialing a number.
"Hello, Peggy. I'm sorry, baby, but mom's in a bad way-she's sick-I've got to stay here and take care of her. . . . Peggy, please don't be that way. You know I love you-yes, yes I want you, you know I do-but I can't tonight, she's my mother, and I love her, too. I can't leave her alone, she needs me."
"Yes, I need you," Cora whispered to herself, "but it is a greedy, selfish need, and I have no right to use you like this. Tonight is the last time-I swear it."
"I'll see you tomorrow," Kevin promised Peggy. "You know my Saturdays are free until five, so I'll be over in the morning. . . . I'll try, baby-I want to as bad as you do, you know that. You'll have to have patience with me. I'm so tied up with my mother that it must have some effect on me when I'm with you, but I know things are going to change -she's getting much better-she's not passed out tonight, just sick."
Cora giggled.
"Yes, she is really trying to stop, and I believe she is going to make it-that's why I don't want to take the chance of leaving her alone-I know exactly how to keep her off the bottle."
"Oh, you do-you do," Cora agreed, "hurry up and get through talking, I need some therapy. God, am I really that horny? Am I a nymphomaniac? After today, how could I want him so badly? But I do want him, I do-since this will be the last time, I hope he makes it long and hard and good-I hope he wants it as badly as I do."
"All right, sweetie, I'll call you in the morningbye."
Cora ran her hand swiftly down between her thighs in wild anticipation. She discovered that her clit was not sore, just alive, tingling, ready as she was for this final incestuous fuck.
Kevin stood for a long moment staring down at Cora.
Maybe I should just wake up now, Cora thought. He would be terribly embarrassed, but I could pretend to be so drunk that I don't really notice his nakedness-but-but-no, I've got to have it just one more time.
"Goddamn you, mom," Kevin growled as he dropped to his knees in bed, and jerked her thighs roughly apart, "you bitch-you bitch-you bitch, you've got no right to do this to me."
Lifting her ass, he doubled a pillow and slipped it under the small of her back, causing her cunt to stare up at him like an open eye, positioning it so that his cock could arrow into it to the very bottom, with no hindrance whatever.
Cora involuntarily shuddered. In this position he always went in too far-too deep-and unless he had prepared her with his tongue, had her all wet and hot, loose and juicy down there, she could hardly stand the pain of his huge, hurting prickhead pounding against her womb.
Obviously, tonight he was in no mood for foreplay, and Cora knew that her wish for a long, hard fuck was about to be granted. Walking on his knees up between her thighs, he hooked his arms under her knees and lifted them high and wide. He jogged his muscular hips forward, and the head of his cock hit her like a fist a half inch above her quivering vaginal mouth. Jerking back, not touching his cock with either hand, he aimed blindly and shot his arrow again, this time hitting dead center and sliding into her hot, milking womanhood.
He pulled it almost out and slammed it in again out again and in again-harder each time, faster each time, like a racing driver going through all the gears of a four-speed transmission, setting a furious, driving, hammering pace that was as familiar to Cora as the bottle, and just as intoxicating.
As he so often did, he was fucking her tonight as much from anger and frustration as he was from desire, and the mixture of emotions gave him an objective, impersonal strength and endurance that only a woman who truly loved to,fuck and be fucked could cope with. Cora was just such a woman. Nothing pleased her more than to have him in a mood like this, and nothing left her more satisfied than to be completely pulverized by his ecstasy-bringing tool.
Alan had been an expert lover, gentle, artistic, but forceful and manly-in complete control-doing things to her that he had learned through years of practice. He knew what women liked, and instinctively found the weak spots, the points of sensitivity, the hidden triggers to their orgasms.
Kevin, on the other hand, fucked like a stud animal, like a bull, a stallion. He had the massive, sturdy equipment, and he used it with boundlessly energetic strength and abandon. Like a bulldozer, a freight train, he pistoned, jackhammered, pounded, pounded, pounded.
Cora's mouth filled with blood as she bit almost through her tongue in an effort to keep from screaming out loud.
She loved it-loved it. She loved the sensual expertise of Alan as well as the lusty savagery of this crazy, mixed-up kid that she had given birth to, now trying his damnedest to force his way back into her womb. She loved the pain, the sinful, perverse taint of incest, the helplessness that she felt at being so brutally, compellingly taken without so much as a by your leave.
What am I going to do? her frenzied mind screamed frantically. I can't stop it-I can't stop loving it! Oh God-Kevin,. Kevin, you're worse for me than alcohol. I don't care if I die and spend one dozen eternities in hell for this-I don't care if Alan knows I haven't given you up-I can't stop-I can't stop-ohhhh, fuck mommy, baby, fuck mommy--I'm cuming-cuming-cummmmmmmminnnnnng!
As though he could actually hear her silent plea, Kevin seemed to redouble his efforts. Sweat was pouring off him, running in rivulets under her body, staining the sheets in an ever-widening puddle. She wished that he would turn her over and fuck her in the ass for a while. Her cunt was numb, the walls swollen and enflamed. Her clit was as sore as if he had been rubbing it with sandpaper instead of his wiry, springy pubic hairs.
"Mom, Mom!" Kevin cried, shocking her into almost opening her eyes and answering him. "Save me -save me! It's so goddamn good! Please, mom, please-help me-I can't go on like this-I can't stand it!"
And the anguish in his cry sobered and saddened Cora. Her orgasms stopped abruptly. She knew what she had to do, and she did it.
He was about to cum. He was no longer talking coherently, just yelling a jumbled stream of curses and endearments-growls, barks, yelps of an ecstasy that was etched into his orgasm-twisted features.
Cora swallowed the blood and spittle in her mouth, let her eyes flutter wide open, and hissed in an uncomprehending gasp of shock and surprise, "Kevin-Kevin, what are you doing?"
Kevin didn't hear her. Kevin froze in mid-stroke. His eyes blasted wide open, his mouth formed a large O of fright, of terror. The orgasm that had already started rising up out of his balls was clamped off like the clicking off of a light switch. In the precise moment that Cora had whispered her question, the same question, the exact words, were screamed from the open bedroom doorway:
"KEVIN-KEVIN-WHAT ARE YOU DOING!"
8
"YOU SONOFABITCH! YOU FILTHY, STINKING, PERVERTED BASTARD! YOU SICK MOTHERFUCKER!" Beverly screamed hysterically, running to the bed, flinging herself on Kevin's back, wrestling him out of Cora's cunt, from between her thighs, out of the bed .and down to the floor. She hit him, bit him, slapped him, scratched, pounded, pulled his hair, all the while calling him every foul name she could lay tongue to, telling him what she thought of him in no uncertain terms.
"Sick! Sick! Sick! You should be castrated, you stinking pile of shit! How could you? How could you do such a thing to that pitiful, sick woman? Oh God, oh God-my brother-my big brother-I'll never forgive you for this-goddamn you to the hottest part of hell! Hypocrite! Lousy, fucking, sanctimonious, sick, sick hypocrite! You should have been born dead!"
Kevin lay. on the bedroom carpet curled into a ball, his hands covering his head to protect it from her flying fists and flailing feet. He felt her spittle splash on his face; he heard plainly, clearly, every word she screamed. He felt her mauling him, but he felt no pain. He felt nothing. He was numb.
Beverly finally grew tired of beating him. Breathing hard, her breasts heaving, she simply stood over him and continued to rake him over the coals. She was standing straddled his chest, wide legged, one foot planted on either side of his body. When she had stopped beating him, he had simply rolled over on his back to stare dry eyed, empty eyed, straight up.
Beverly had forgotten, and was in no condition to remember that she had taken off her panties and given them to Brad. She had no idea that her brother was looking straight up into her naked, hairy cunt. He didn't see it, but he was staring straight into the most widely publicized pussy in the entire city.
"Peggy is almost insane-she can't understand why you refuse to fuck her-I couldn't understand it, either-but I can now! I can understand a lot of things now! My God, Kevin, how could you? How could you? This is the most sickening, disgusting, revolting thing I've seen in all my life! She's your mother, you goddamn sonofabitch! She's sick, helpless, and more than that, she is your mother. You are supposed to be helping her-taking care of herhow' could you take advantage of her like this? That's the nasty, disgusting, filthy part-not the fucking. If mom were not sick, if she was well, and willing, I'd cheer you on for fucking her-maybe that would bring a little love back into this hateful house! But goddamn it, she is sick. She doesn't want
-she hasn't got enough intelligence left to know what she wants. How long has this been going on, you cocksucker, you shit-eating dog? How often do you do it? Do you get her drunk on purpose? How is it that a sick sonofabitch like you settles for just straight fucking-how many times have you had it in her asshole? How many times have you stuck it down her throat?
"TALK TO ME, GODDAMN YOU! TALK TO ME MOTHERFUCKER!"
Beverly kicked Kevin viciously in the head. He continued to stare blindly straight up; he didn't even bother to try to protect himself with his hands.
Cora lay listening, almost in tears. She couldn't possibly come out of her act now. She felt sorrier for Kevin than she had ever felt for anybody. "It wasn't his fault," she wanted to tell Beverly, "It was my fault, I made him. I wanted him to-I could have ended this thing long time ago, but I held him captive, because I was not strong enough to let him go."
But she couldn't say anything, couldn't let them know that she was awake, sober, in her right mind. She couldn't even close her gaped-open thighs, cover her naked, open, cum-oozing cunt, move the pillow from under her ass and get under the covers.
"Don't you know that you could fuck anything with a pussy in that fucking school we go to?" Beverly asked her brother loudly. "Don't you know that all of them-teachers and students alike-are yours for the taking? If you just crooked your little finger at any of them they would flop over on their backs and spread their thighs for you?
"You could even fuck me, goddamn it-me, your sister! You've heard about Gang-Bang Beverly, haven't you? It's no secret-the whole fucking town knows that Beverly Blake would fuck a stray dog--anything with a cock-if you're so goddamned horny, why didn't you fuck me?
"It's your fault, anyway, that I became a pin cushion, a punch board for the entire school. You know how I love you-how I've always loved you--how much I need love and affection-but you suddenly had no time for me-I became just an irritation-you wouldn't even talk to me. I couldn't understand why you hated me so-now I know-I interfered with your nasty little games with mom. She wasn't drunk enough for you to fuck her back then, though. What were you doing, feeding her the bottle-getting her in the condition that you wanted her in?
"Can you tell me what I was supposed to do? I couldn't talk to mom-I love her-I really and truly love her-but I can't get close to her. She can't help it, I'm not blaming her-I just feel sorry for her. But I am blaming you. You pushed me away and pushed me away until I finally stopped trying-I just went out and got my love and affection where I could find it. I know that all the dudes were after was my pussy -but-but goddamnit, they sure couldn't take my pussy without taking me with it. They'd kiss mehold me in their arms, because they had no choice. I know they didn't mean it, but they would even tell me that they loved me."
Cora was shocked, hurt by Beverly's confession. The bottom fell completely out of her world. She knew it was her fault, not Kevin's. She was ashamed of herself, angry with herself, first for allowing booze to let her lose her daughter, and next because her perverted lust for her son's cock would not let her make amends even when she could.
I don't know how I will ever pick up the pieces, she thought miserably. If you will just help me get out of this, Cora prayed silently, not calling God by name, leaving the prayer open for anybody or anything that could hear it and answer it, I swear to you I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make amends -get my family back together. Forgive me, please forgive me.
"I made it good to them," Beverly was saying, no longer shouting, for a long time now, she had been talking quietly, conversationally, with only bitter resignation tingeing her mellow voice. "I kept them coming back for more and more and more, by giving it to them any way they wanted it-I sucked their cocks, let them fuck me in my asshole-I took them on singly, in twosomes, threesomes, foursomes and moresomes.
"At first you fussed at me about it. You even slapped me once, and I loved even that much attention from you so much that I went and did more and more of the same, just so I could get at least that much attention from you again. But you cut me out completely, you didn't seem to care what happened to me."
Kevin remained passive, silent. He continued to stare straight up, looking at Beverly's cunt now, and seeing it, but blinking at it like he wasn't sure what it was.
"And Peggy-poor, poor, sweet, pretty Peggy," Beverly continued, "some people say that I am the prettiest girl at U High, but just as many say that Peggy is. Some say that I have the sexiest body, but even I don't buy that. I just show more of mine. I never wear a bra, and until this week, I never wore panties, and I wore my skirts high enough up my ass to make sure that everybody knew I didn't wear panties. But I have seen Peggy naked, and I know her body is prettier than mine-it is absolutely perfect.-
"If being hot and tight makes a pussy good, then Peggy must have the best pussy that ever sprinkled piss. I know my pussy is good, it's had enough practice to make it good, but compared to Peggy's, mine is just a lukewarm sloppy hole. And what does she do? She lies in bed crying her eyes out and finger-fucking herself every night, because she is so much in love with you that she wouldn't even think of fucking anybody else.
"I came home tonight only because Peggy begged me to come home and relieve you-to stay with mom while she tried one more time to get you to fuck her. We had been lying in bed masturbating each other, and I was so hot that I started to go down town instead and pick up a bunch of guys. In fact, I only came home because I felt sorrier for her than I did for myself.
"I haven't fucked for a week. I had to stop, they were going to expel me from school. And I can't afford to start back to fucking like I used to, because Brad Wycliff is in love with me and he wants me all to himself-he wants to marry me, but he doesn't want to touch me until then, and I'm not sure I can hold out that long, I'm too highly sexed. I've got to have love, but I've got to have sex, too. I love Brad, if I lose him I'll die-I'll kill myself, but if I can't persuade him to fuck me soon, I don't know how I'm going to make it."
Beverly's pussy was wet, open, shadowed by her skirt, but clearly visible in its golden-brown nest of long, tangled pubic hair. Her clit was fat, bulging out over her deeply split cleft. Kevin was staring at it now as though his eyes were frozen to the fat-lipped gash. The erection that he had lost sprang up below his belly like a billy club.
Beverly talked for another two or three minutes before she finally noticed the direction of Kevin's hypnotized gaze.
Blushing, she turned her back to him and gasped aloud at the sight of his enormous, throbbing erection.
For a long moment she stared at it like a fright-paralyzed bird staring at the swaying head of a snake poised to strike.
"At least I'm not as sick as you are," she said softly, sadly, as she reached to her side with both hands and unzipped her skirt almost viciously, "and I can justify mine."
She let the skirt fall, stepped out of it, and pulled her blouse over her head.
"I'm doing it for mom-I'm doing it for you. Maybe if you fuck me, you'll leave her alone. Maybe if you fuck me, you'll be able to make it with Peggy -so I'm doing it for Peggy, too. And finally, I'm doing it for myself. If you keep me fucked, I can make it without having anybody else until Brad and I are married."
She straddled him again, but this time her feet were placed on either side of his hips. His feet and her back were toward the bed, and Cora was lying with her head facing them. She wanted to scream, "No, no, NO!" as Beverly dropped to her knees, rose to a squatting position, and reached down between her splayed thighs with both hands to grasp the thick-veined stalk of her brother's cock.
"And you're going to fuck me, big brother," Beverly continued in a low, monotonous, threatening voice. "You're going to keep me so well fucked that you won't have the strength to bother mom again--so reamed out that I can see Brad without going ape, be away from him without going out of my mind."
Guiding the huge column of rigid flesh to the slightly open pink mouth of her quivering cunt, Beverly eased down on it, and Cora gasped, unheard but aloud, as she saw the tiny pink opening stretch to the point of splitting and the hard pole slide smoothly in.
Cora couldn't continue to look, but she couldn't tear her eyes away. She couldn't continue to listen, but she couldn't close her ears. She had never seen anything like this before, and it was the most beautiful-horrible-fascinating-revolting sight that she could imagine.
"My God," Beverly cried, "how big is this thing!? It's already hit bottom, and it's still coming! Ohhh, Kevin-Kevin-ohh, is it good-ohhh, I've got it all now-it's in me all the way-I could cum just sitting on it like this-I wouldn't have to move-just feel it stretching me like this-like I've never been stretched before.
"But I am going to move, and you're going to move too, big brother. And don't get it in your head that this will be the last time. I'll be here waiting for you tomorrow night when you get home from work, and every night thereafter until I am gone. And if you refuse me, I'll tell mom what you have been doing to her-I'll make your phony, sanctimonious name shit in this town-I'll tell Peggy, I'll tell everybody. I'm ready to start moving now-I'm already sure it is going to be so good that I'll have no trouble getting hooked on it, but I'll need some help, so get your ass in gear and fuck me, big brother!"
9
For the first few nights after Beverly had caught them, Cora had continued to feign drunkenness, because she didn't know what else she could do. Sudden sobriety might possibly not have raised undo suspicions-though she was sure at the time that it would-but it most certainly would have spoiled Beverly's definitely wrong, but all the same real, sexual attraction to Kevin. Unable to slake her over active incestuous desires, she might lose her head and make good her threat to tell Cora what had been happening to her, and Cora felt that that would be unfair to Kevin.
Cora was glad to have Beverly home again, glad that handsome, young Brad Wycliff was in love with her and wanted to marry her as soon as school let out for the summer. She tried to shut out of her mind the things that Beverly had confessed to that night in her room, but she couldn't, and she was convinced that her fucking Kevin was the lesser of two evils.
Cora spent the greater part of each day with Alan, and the more she saw him, the more she loved him. She was able to completely shut out the goings-on between Kevin and Beverly while she was with her virile, imaginative, sweet and loving young lover. When she was with him, she recaptured the youth she never had, laughed at all the jokes she had never heard, made all the wild, funny, childhood mistakes and bloopers that she had never dared risk during her strict, fanatically conservative upbringing and her early, conventional marriage.
They would walk in the park, and he would snatch her into the bushes and make love to her on the ground, sheltered only by the foliage as hundreds of people strolled by no more than five or ten feet away. They would rent a car and drive out into the country and fuck like teenagers in the back seat, the front seat, on the hood, in the grass beside the car.
They went skinny dipping and fucked in the water. They walked in the rain with raincoats on and nothing at all under them, and stopped in doorways in broad-but cloud drenched-daylight, opened their coats, embraced, and fucked standing up with people dashing by in the rain, close enough for them to reach out and touch them.
They laughed at everything. They played tag, leap frog, and hide and seek. They minutely inspected each other's genitals and masturbated each other.
They had long serious discussions about philosophies, life styles, and human interaction, as well as about race, religion, and politics. Cora learned more from Alan than she had ever learned in school. She posed for him any way he wanted her, and he never grew tired of thinking up new, exciting, funny, sexy poses and postures for her to go through. Sometimes they would sit for hours not saying anything to each other, not saying anything of any consequence to each other, maybe holding hands, maybe sitting on opposite sides of the room, and these times were just as good as any of the other times.
Alan was completely free, sexually as well as in all the other facets of his personality. Cora couldn't understand that he wouldn't mind watching her fuck another man, but, in fact, would enjoy it. She couldn't understand why he was perplexed at the fact that she couldn't stand to see him looking with desire at another female creature. The nearest they came to cross words was when she told him that she was afraid that Kevin and Beverly had something sexual going on between them, and he had thought it was great, fantastic.
"Why don't you just ask them?" he had suggested, "and if they say that they are grooving, let's have a party with them one of these nights-we can even throw little Peggy in and really have a ball!"
"But they are my children. Do you actually think I would have sex with my children?" Cora had demanded, incensed.
"Why not? Don't you love them?"
They had gone round and round and round, not actually angry, not really fighting, but it wasn't all in fun either. Cora tried valiantly to see his point, to accept his hedonistic, amoral attitudes at face value, and she succeeded marvelously until it was time to go home and witness the reality of what he thought to be only a suspicious, skeptical imagination.
Though she had conveniently "passed out" in her own bed, under the covers, with the lights out during those first few nights, she may as well have put on her act out in the living room, in Beverly's or Kevin's bedroom. They went at each other with a lusty, noisy abandon that would have awakened her even had she really been passed out cold.
One of them would simply look into her bedroom, snap on the light, smell the whiskey, and snap the light back out, not even bothering to close the door.
They would then have a rough and tumble wrestling match, laughing and shouting sweet things and obscenities at each other, shouting, yelling happily, like kids at a circus. He would tell her graphically and explicitly exactly what he was going to do to her. She would just as loudly, just as joyously taunt him, dare him, demand of him to do all the things that he promised, and then some.
And when the verbal play turned into physical action, Cora would bury her head under her pillow, stop her ears with her fingers, and still she could hear them plainly-hear naked flesh smacking naked flesh-hear her-hear him.
"Ohhh, fuck me, darling, Kevy-Kevy-fuck meeee. Nobody can fuck like you, sweet baby, nobodyyyyy! Goddamn! Ohhh shit! It's so good, it's so good I can hardly stand it! Sock it to me, baby--harder, harder-I can take it-I can take all the cock you can dish out!"
"Call me daddy, bitch! Tell me what I'm doing to you-tell me how much you dig it!"
"Ohhh daddy, you're fucking the shit out of my poor pussy-making it shoot sparks-and I love it--love it! Your big hard cock is all the way up in my belly, I can almost taste it-it's so good-I love it more than anything in this world!"
"What am I going to do next? Tell me what you want."
"Anything that you want, sweet baby! Anything! Everything! I'm yours-everything I've got is all yours! You don't have to ask, just do it-stick it down my throat-up my asshole-between my toes -shit-shit-I don't care-just don't stop fucking me!"
And he would do all the things that Beverly had suggested, and then some, both of them giving Cora a running commentary as they went on for hours and hours.
About the middle of the following week, Cora couldn't take any more. Beverly had met Kevin at the station and drove home with him. Neither of them could hide their surprise at finding Cora sitting watching TV. She had whiskey on her breath, but was apparently sober. They had both made a big, happy to-do over Cora's big step forward, but Cora could tell that they were both disappointed. Beverly had gone to bed early, Kevin had gone to visit Peggy, but he was home again long before midnight.
The next night and the next, there had not been even the smell of whiskey in the house. Cora had been lively and vivacious. She told them about Alan Courtney, her new lover, and gave him most of the credit for her victory in her battle with the bottle. Beverly told Cora about Brad Wycliff and their plans to get married if Cora would give her permission.
For the rest of the week, then, all three of them seemed to be drawing closer together; they talked of many things, but mostly about Beverly's almost certainty of winning the Queen contest, and her subsequent plans for a secret marriage with Brad. Only Cora, Kevin, and Alan were to be invited to the wedding, and Beverly seemed to be genuinely happy.
This was not the case with Kevin, however. He had become more and more moody as time went by. He spoke of quitting Peggy completely and leaving town for the summer, but he made no active plans toward either goal.
Now, three weeks after Beverly's big intrusion on Kevin's activities with Cora, and. two short weeks before his graduation and Beverly's marriage, the family scene had deteriorated into an uncomfortable, mechanical routine for all of them. Cora had discovered earlier that Bev and Kev had been sneaking home from school at lunchtime to fuck. She saw them leaving the house one day when she had to rush home from Alan's apartment to get something that she had forgotten.
From then on, Cora made no special effort to stay home nights. She tried to be with them as much as she could, but when the atmosphere became too heavy and oppressive, she would go over and spend the night with Alan. Tonight was shaping up into just that sort of atmosphere. They were all sitting in the living room. The TV was on, but nobody was watching it.
"Why don't you kids go out?" Cora asked.
"No place to go," Beverly answered.
"Do you mean Brad is still holding out, won't even let you come visit him?"
"That's about the size of it."
"How about you, Kevy-what's with you and
Peggy?"
"Nothing special."
"Why don't you go see her?"
"Don't want to, besides her mother is home now, and she is still not well. Peg has to take care of her."
"Well, I don't care what you two do," Cora said, getting up from the couch, "I'm going to see Alan. Don't wait up for me. I won't be back until morning."
As soon as Cora was out of the house, Kevin made a lunge for Beverly, but she pushed him away. "What's the matter?"
"Nothing-nothing. We can fuck-I want to just as badly as you do-but let's talk first."
"Talk? About what?"
' 'Us-me-you-Peggy."
"What's Peggy got to do with it?"
"Don't you love her, Kevin?"
"Of course I do, just like you love Brad, but a bird in the hand. . . ."
He made another grab for her. She laughed, but scooted out of reach.
"No, you don't love her like I love Brad-you couldn't. I work in Brad's office now, you know--sort of apprentice secretary-file clerk-telephone answerer. It's not really a job, he just wants me near him, and that's exactly where I want to be. Practically all of my free time-about three hours a day -I'm in his office, and every minute I spend with him is pure, sweet torture. I could eat that man alive. We touch and feel and fondle and kiss every chance we get. You couldn't love Peggy like I love Brad, or you would be with her right now."
"I've never told you this before, because you have never asked me, but damn it, I just can't raise a hard for Peggy." "Crap."
"I should know-I've tried often enough. You know yourself that I have been over there three times this week, and we try every time we're together. She plays with it-jerks it off-even kisses it, but nothing happens-it just won't work. I was hooked on mom, and now I'm hooked on you-guess I'm just a one-woman man."
"It's all in your mind," Beverly argued, "you're just insecure. You haven't had anybody but two sure things-mom, who couldn't have resisted even had she wanted to, and couldn't judge your performance, no matter how lousy it might have been, and me, who seduced you-raped you-under circumstances over which you had very little control."
"So?"
"So give Peggy a chance. Call her over here. Now that her mother is home, you two couldn't really get it on in peace, anyway. Here, you can relax and enjoy each other. If you don't call her over here, I'll never let you touch me again. But you call her, and we'll just see about your not being able to raise a hard. I'll drive you out of your skull before she gets here-I'll make your cock so hard it will petrify. She'll think it's for her-and it will be-and you can just let nature take its course from there."
Peggy was overjoyed at the unexpected invitation.
"Are you serious, Kevin? What about your mother, you said-"
"Mom's all right-she's stopped drinking-she won't even be home tonight."
"I was just about to go to bed. I just took a bath-
I'm all clean and warm and ready-I won't even put on panties-just an easy-to-take-off dress. Is Bev there?"
Beverly was on her knees before him, slowly unzipping his fly, slowly hauling out his already hard cock, slowly sliding it between her hot, moist, sucking lips.
"Y-yesss, she's here," Kevin stammered, "but s-she won't bo-bother us-she's doing her homework."
"Okay, see you in about ten minutes."
"Ohhh, goddamn, sis, you almost made me blow it," Kevin moaned as he hung up the phone. "Ease up, girl-ease up-you're going to make meeee-"
Beverly eased up. She had had his cock all the way in her mouth. Like Linda Lovelace, she could open her throat and take any size cock in it. At the same time, she rolled and fluttered her tongue, scraped her teeth over the sensitive shaft, and sucked tightly with her lips compressed around the base.
Now she sheathed her teeth behind her soft, drawn-back lips, let her jaws and tongue relax, and pulled her head slowly back, letting the spit-slick phallus slide easily out to the rim around the head. Back into her throat-out to her lips-tongue working again, but flicking lightly in a pool of collected saliva. Reaching inside his fly, she hefted and squeezed his heavy nuts, gently pulled his wiry hairs, driving him wild, but still not leading him to orgasm, "Sss-stop," Kevin hissed, pushing at her forehead, "it's still too good-I won't be able to hold out two minutes when she gets here."
Beverly let the bulbous, purplish head pop out of her lips. She remained on her knees before him, stroking his rod gently, marveling at its amazing length and girth.
"Peggy is the luckiest girl in the world," she cooed, planting soft, pecking kisses on the head of the cock that she loved so well. "I don't envy her, because I have already had it, and besides, I know that Brad is going to keep me well satisfied. His cock isn't quite as long as yours-I know, because I've felt it dozens of times inside his pants-but it is at least as thick. Brad will do nicely."
"I'm the lucky one-if only I can make it with her tonight-if I can just keep this hard. I love her, Bev -you have no idea how much I love her."
"I'm going to help you, baby-don't forget, I'll be in my room listening. I won't close the door completely-I'll pretend to be asleep, but I'll be standing in there in the dark listening and watching. I'll be playing with my pussy, and if she doesn't drain you completely dry, come on in when the main course is over and I'll have some delicious desert waiting for you."
"God, sis, you're the absolute utmost-you're so good to me, and I love you so much."
"I'm glad, and I love you, too, big brother. Mom and I both love you, we really do. No matter how you look at it, it's been you who have held us together. I blamed you for my downfall, but now I know I was wrong-you're only human and you only did what you had to do. When I think of all the shit you had to go through with both me and mom, and still were able to be about to graduate with honors and get a college scholarship, and then try to build up a case against you for neglecting me, I am actually ashamed of myself."
"Have you forgiven me for that shit with mom, yet?"
"Forgiven you? I forgave you that very same night. I forgave you with that first orgasm that you socked out of me. I just feel sorry for mom that she was getting this sweet thing and not sober enough to I appreciate it. No, Kevin, there was actually nothing to forgive. My big scene was more out of--at first--pure shock. It isn't every day that a girl walks into the house and discovers her brother fucking her--and his-mother. Secondly, I was just plain bitter because my own sex life was so un-together, and then there was the element of jealousy-I wanted you for myself-just like I have since I discovered that my plumbing was different than yours, and they looked like they just might fit, if we stuck them together.
"You certainly didn't hurt mom by fucking her. Actually, I think you did her a favor. I think good loving does something for a woman that no amount of medicine could do, and just having your wonderful cock in her every night couldn't have been anything but good for her.
"Finally, you damn sure didn't do yourself any harm. All that practice sure as hell paid off-you're the greatest."
"No, Beverly, you're the greatest-I don't know what I'm going to do when you're gone."
"You'll have Peggy-that's why I'm insisting that you keep trying. I don't plan to leave my sweet brother unloved. Besides, I'll only be living in the next state, not out of the country. We'll be visiting you and mom, and you'll be visiting us. No matter how good Brad is, no matter how satisfied he keeps me, I'll still fuck you whenever you want me, just because I love you, because I'll always be ready to give you anything that I've got if it will make you happy-especially since giving it to you makes me even happier.
"I'd better scoot into my room now-I just heard Peggy's taxi pull up out front. Chin up, or rather, cock up, Champ, I'm in your corner."
Beverly had just pushed her bedroom door almost closed when the doorbell rang.
"Come in!" Kevin called, stuffing his still hard but gradually softening cock into his pants, and zipping up his fly.
Peggy ran into the living room with her arms outspread. Every single time he saw her, Kevin was surprised all over again at her unreal beauty. Her eyes were bigger and bluer than Bev's-her hair was longer and more golden than Bev's-her lips were so voluptuous that Bev's sexy mouth looked thin and masculine in comparison. Her nose was saucy, turned up, with a heavy splash of brown freckles scattered across it and out onto her rosy cheeks.
She was wearing a smock-like sleeveless minidress that touched her body nowhere but at the shoulders. Still Kevin knew from memory that her tits were a full inch bigger than Bev's 36C; the nipples were longer, fatter, always hard and pointing. Her flat wasp waist flared out into a split, miniature mountain of a completely feminine ass that crossed eyes and turned knees to rubber.
They were both first smitten with puppy love when Kevin was eight and she was only seven. They had always been together, but had started going together when Kevin was fourteen and she was thirteen. They had fallen head over heels in love when Kevin was sixteen and she was fifteen, and for both of them the love had grown with each passing year.
And as the five-four little ball of sex and beauty leaped into the air to fling her arms around the neck of her tall lover, Kevin was still puzzling over their inability to make that final step, what with all they had going for them. They held the initial kiss for a long time, and Kevin was thinking of their problem all the way through the kiss.
Peggy's mother had begun pulling Kevin aside and lecturing him on the importance of respecting Peggy's virginity before she reached puberty, and long before either of them had even entertained the idea of sex. It had been Peggy who had started the kissing, fondling, and feeling. It had been Peggy who had first begun to hint that he could go farther than merely kissing and feeling. And every time she got on the subject, every time they were alone and petting toward the ultimate goal, Peggy's hatchet-faced mother came to Kevin's mind, and he felt that he had to hurry before they were caught, get it over with and make sure that all the evidence had disappeared before they had to face Mrs. Conners again.
That is definitely still part of my problem, Kevin decided to himself as he carried Peggy to the couch, and before putting her down, pulled the loose dress over her head. I don't know how much effect other things have had on me, but I know that much already, and if I can just get to the bottom of it, I know things are going to work out fine.
He had never seen Peggy completely naked before. He had seen, fondled and sucked her naked breasts. He had seen, fondled and fingered her naked cunt, but he wasn't prepared for all the compact naked beauty that filled his eyes as he lay her on the soft cushion.
One of her feet dropped to the carpet. The other landed on the couch, knee up, legs wide open.
Kevin broke into a cold sweat. He closed his eyes tightly and shook his head violently to clear it. He groaned aloud-he opened his eyes and quickly closed them again. He had found another part of his problem.
He had seen Cora too often in that same spot, in that same position, and lying like that, Peggy reminded him too much of his mother. She reminded him too much of his guilt and shame. In spite of what Beverly had said, in spite of the fact that she had forgiven him, and even justified his actions, he could do neither for himself. He wasn't good enough for Peggy-her mother had been right-he was only out to ruin her, fix her so no decent self-respecting man would ever consider marrying her. He could literally feel his cock shriveling.
"What's the matter, darling?"
"Nothing-nothing-it's-it's just that you are so lovely, I can hardly stand to look at you."
"Well, don't just stand there looking-get to work and show me something."
Kevin dropped to his knees on the floor and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her hungrily. His big hands raced up and down her body-feeling, caressing, squeezing, digging. Her thighs sprang wider apart, and she gasped into his mouth as his long middle finger sank to the third knuckle joint into her hot, slick, incredibly tight pussy.
We have been through this very same scene one thousand times before, his mind taunted him, and it always ends the same way. Even when we were, kids I was doing this to her. I could go no farther then, and I can go no farther now-won't I ever grow up? Won't I ever be a normal man?
He tried to force himself to stop thinking negatively. He had to finish and get Peggy home before her mother woke up and missed her. He had to concentrate on getting a hard-on-concentrate on her beauty, her sexiness, concentrate on the fun it would be once he got inside her. He concentrated just as hard as he could. He concentrated until his head ached.
But his cock lay limp.
He pulled her off the couch, down to the floor on top of him. His hands slid down to her asscheeks and hung there, pressing them together and pulling them apart. He let his fingers slip and slide up and down the deep, burning hot crevice-his fingertips drummed and danced on, around, and into the tight elastic ring of her virgin anus.
I can't give up, he told himself. It's now or never--I'll never have an opportunity like this again. Beverly is in there watching us. What will she think of me if I don't make it this time?
He tried to imagine Beverly behind the cracked door, fingerfucking herself. He remembered the times that she had done it for him, and how it had turned him on, how it had made his cock so hard he could hardly stand it. But he couldn't see Beverly in his mind. All he could see was the thin, bitter face of Mrs. Conners staring at them through the crack, silently daring him to ruin her virgin daughter. All he could see was Cora, passed out on the couch or the floor, and him with his finger in her asshole just like it was in Peggy's now. He jerked his finger out.
His cock seemed to get smaller-softer.
Peggy scooted backward down his body-panting and whimpering-frantically jerking at his belt buckle and clawing at his zipper. Fumbling his flaccid cock out into her hot, dry hands, she rubbed it between her palms, jerked it up and down, blew her hot, moist breath on it, ticked and kissed the head, ran her tongue up and down the soft, wrinkled shaft, sucked it all the way into her mouth.
Maybe I have been too good-too mannerly-too obedient all my life, Kevin decided, still casting about for a logical explanation. I have always had too much respect for adults-believed and did everything they told me-and that's why I can't do it-I can't disobey Mrs. Conners. The only way I could do it would be for some adult that I respect more to give me a counterargument. Beverly told me that it was all right to fuck mom, and I am still in no way convinced, but if mom told me it was all right, I'd be able to dig it-wouldn't question it for a second.
Mrs. Conners put all this shit in my head about Peggy when I was still too small to doubt or question her Tightness, and it has simply stuck with me. If mom would help me-straighten it out in my mind so I could really understand how to deal with it-I know it would be all right.
Shit, he derided himself silently, a psychiatrist, you ain't! If what Peggy is doing to you now isn't enough to give you a boner, forget it-your case is hopeless, and Sigmund Freud couldn't even give you enough help to make a man of you.
Kevin was forced to agree with the last thoughts.
He stared down at Peggy's jerking, bobbing head and almost cried. She was trying so hard, gulping, sucking, making eager, grunting, whining noises deep in her throat.
It didn't help-nothing helped-his cock flopped out of her mouth softer than ever.
Kevin made one last desperate effort to save what he could of the situation. He pulled Peggy up into his arms and kissed her hungrily. She responded, but her response was cool and passive.
"We'll try it again soon," he promised. "With patience, I know we can work it out."
"Sure we can," Peggy listlessly agreed.
"It's just all the crap I've had to go through lately. The trouble with mom,, my school work, job, Beverly -everything has been working against us."
"Stop making excuses, Kevin, please."
"What do you mean, making excuses? It's true."
"Of course it is, because you keep telling yourself it is. You can't, because you don't believe you can before we start. I know there is nothing wrong with me-neither my body nor my mind-so it has got to be you, Kevin. You've got a problem that nobody can work out but you. All I know is, I can't go through this sort of thing anymore-it's too nerve wracking-too heart breaking.
"I love you-I'll never stop loving you-I could no more stop loving you than I could stop the sun from rising, but I'm not going to come to you again, nor go with you again until you are straightened out and prepared and able to give me the love that every woman deserves. I'm going home now. I'll be waiting when you're ready."
Ten minutes later, with tears of frustration streaming down her cheeks, Peggy stepped into a taxi and gave the driver her home address.
At the same time Kevin was lying where she had left him on the living room floor, his own face wet with tears, calling loudly, "Beverly! Beverly!"
10
The only thing that kept Beverly from being the happiest person alive was her worrying about Kevin. For days now, she had literally been walking on the clouds. It had been a close contest, but she had narrowly beaten Peggy Conners out for the title of high school Queen. Peggy had seemed even happier over her best friend's victory than Beverly herself, so that part of her happiness was complete.
Kevin had been chosen Man of The Year for his exploits on the basketball court, his superior grades and general popularity. He had looked so tall and proud and handsome as he accepted award after award, trophy after trophy, that Beverly had broken into tears of joy for him.
Her wedding had been short, sweet and secret. That was all either she or Brad wanted, and she was giddily happy again as she repeated the vows with Cora and Alan standing by as smiling witnesses. Kevin had promised to be present, but he hadn't shown up, and they had performed the ceremony thirty minutes late without him.
Kevin hadn't been himself since he had stopped seeing Peggy completely, and he hadn't seen her alone since the night she had left him crying on the living room rug. Beverly had tried to reason with him that night. She had tried to talk him back to a state of confidence and good humor, but nothing that she could say to him brought him out of his dismal defeated mood. She had even tried to get him to fuck her, let her suck his cock, but he showed absolutely no interest; she may as well have been Peggy as far as the response she got from his limp pecker was concerned.
Miraculously, he had snapped out of his blues to present a familiar, smiling face at the graduation ceremonies, but he had reverted to his apathy and dejection immediately thereafter. Much worse than all that was the fact that he had started to drink. The last time she had seen him, he was drunk out of his mind. It was the night before her wedding. He had stayed away from home all night the day before, all the rest of the day, and had staggered into her bedroom, waking her up around midnight.
"Kevin," she had cried, springing wide awake as he fell across her bed. "What's the matter with you? Where have you been? We've been worried sick about you. Is that whiskey I smell? Don't tell me that ypu're drunk!"
"Okay-I won't then," he mumbled.
"You won't what?"
"Tell you that I'm drunk."
"But you are!"
"How'd you ever-ever guess?" "Oh, Kevin-Kevin-here, let me help you-let me pull off your clothes and put you to bed."
"Don't wanna go to bed-jus' came by to kiss my l'il sis goodbye-my l'il sis is gettin' married."
Beverly was naked under the sheets. She threw them off her and, getting up on her knees, began trying to pull Kevin's sweatshirt up over his head. He wouldn't cooperate. He bobbed, weaved and swayed away from her. on purpose.
"Ain't gettin' undressed-ain't goin' to bed," Kevin insisted. "Jus' gimme a kiss, and help me find my cock, an' I'll be on my way."
"One thing at a time," Beverly laughed, thinking that if she played along with him, she could get him into bed so he could sleep off his drunk. "Let's start with the kiss, and then we'll take up the next item on the list."
She had leaned hard against him, hugging him tightly to keep from pushing him off the bed. She put everything into the kiss that she could muster. His sour whiskey breath revolted her, but she didn't let it show. She kissed him with lips, tongue and body, grinding her loins against his side, scrubbing her tits against his chest. He was sitting twisted toward her, and she couldn't use her body against his to complete advantage. His lips were moist under hers, but passive. She found his tongue with hers, but his tongue lay flat in his mouth, as lifeless as his lips.
When she leaned away from him, searching his face, he laughed.
"That was a nice, juicy kiss-thanks heaps-now help me find my cock."
She forced another laugh. "It's here, where it's always been," she said, dropping her hand to his fly and sliding the zipper open.
"Nope-guess again-you're not even warm."
She pulled his cock free. It was abnormally large, even soft. She squeezed it fondly.
"Come on, baby, stop playing games with me," she had said. "Get out of those clothes and let's have a farewell fuck. This will be the last time for a while, you know." .
"Give me back my cock and I'll fuck the shit outta you," he promised.
"Kevin, what are you talking about?" she had asked, genuinely puzzled and alarmed.
"Didn't think you'd understan'-women don' understand, 'cause women got no cocks to lose. You can't lose a cunt-cunts are perm'nant fixtures, but cocks come an' go, and if you're not careful-poofthey're gone. I know who got mine-mom, and you -an' Peggy-and ol' lady Conners, an' lots of other people too numerous to mention."
"Kevin."
"Shhh-I'm talking. I've been a good l'il boy all my life-all my life I been mommy's l'il man-can you dig it?-mommy's l'il man? Mommy's l'il man didn't have a cock, he had a wee-wee. An' mommy's l'il man would play with his wee-wee an' get his fingers slapped-so he quit gettin' caught playin' with it-but he'd hide and keep right on till it grew into a cock-but remember he's still mommy's l'il man, so he's gotta pretend he hasn't got a cock, pretend he's still got a wee-wee-you follow me?"
"I actually think I'm beginning to-go on."
"You're a pretty smart girl, l'il sis-I can't even follow myself-but I been sleepin' at the station, and I been thinking 'bout this cock business--anyhow-ol' lady Conners takes over where mommy leaves off-cocks don't exist till you get married-so I lost some more of my cock every time she looked at me-and my l'il sis ran all over town lookin' for cocks-an' I thought I had one right there in the house for her, but she was an expert cock finder, an' if she couldn't find it-I guess-I guess it was just lost again-see what I mean when I say they come an' go? It would be there big as life an' twice as hard in the daytime with Peggy, but come night, her mama would hide it from me-cause l'il Peggy can't have cock till she's married.
"It came back when mom couldn't see me with it anymore. She'd pass out, an my ol' cock would come out of hidin' and do what cocks are meant to do. When she was sober, I was her l'il man-no cock--when she was out cold-presto-change-o-I was all cock. Then you came 'round and finally found it right under your nose where it had been all the time -an' since the cock expert recognized it as a real live cock-I thought I'd keep it this time-but I lost it again somewhere between back then and right now-and if you'll help me find it-I'll be on my way."
And Kevin had fallen against her and cried himself sober. When he was through crying, he had undressed and gotten into bed with her, and she had soothed and caressed and kissed and fondled him hard under the sheet, and had rolled over on top of him and loved him gently, tenderly, back to manhood, which he proved beyond the shadow of a doubt, by cuming once, regaining his erection, and fucking her unconscious.
When she came to he was gone, and she hadn't seen him since.
Now the young bride fairly danced out of bed and floated as light and giddy as a champagne bubble into the bathroom. That minor residue of concern for Kevin had long since been blown out of her mind by her brand new, hard-loving, all-loving husband. "Love is the answer," Kevin had said to her at one point during those weird, frightening, loving hours that she had spent with him last.
As she brushed her teeth, she was trying to sing, laugh, and brush the taste of Brad's cock, Brad's cum, from her mouth all at the same time, and she almost strangled. She was laughing so hard that she couldn't stop choking, strangling, coughing, spewing mint-flavored toothpaste all over the sink, the floor, the mirror.
As she showered, she tried to speculate as to when she might be able to get some sleep-when she might want to sleep-need to sleep. On the last night-morning of Kevin she had slept peacefully and deeply for maybe a total of eight hours-three before he came-five after he left. Since then she had only closed her eyes in laughter and orgasmic ecstasy, certainly not to sleep.
"I .may just never sleep again," she concluded happily aloud, "but then again, I just might sleep all the way to California."
Drying herself with a fluffy bath towel, she made love to her body with her eyes and hands and her mind and the towel in the full-length mirror. Her joy was a mindless, careless, indefinable but definite thing that made her more beautiful than she had ever been, and she had always been incredibly beautiful.
She was back in her bedroom slipping into something-she didn't know what-to cover her nakedness, without even being conscious that she was dressing, or for what purpose. She looked around the room for Brad, as though she expected him to jump laughing out of the closet, and she laughed when she couldn't find him. She knew that he had already gone to have the car serviced.
She laughed again, thinking of the little bronze-colored Mercury Cougar getting serviced. Picking up an imaginary telephone and dialing an imaginary number, she said seriously to an imaginary listener, "Hello-is this the Ford service department? My husband is bringing our little Coogie in for servicing -no, I don't think she has been serviced before, but then I can't be sure, she is out all night every night -at any rate I insist that she be serviced by a big, black Lincoln Continental Mark IV."
Beverly laughed at her joke. It was all a joke-her life was a very funny, dirty joke. She remembered that that was what she had been for one whole school year-a dirty joke. Dirty jokes are funny if they are good, and she was good-she liked being a dirty joke. She laughed to herself, for herself, at herself as she floated out into the living room.
"I wonder where mommy is?" she mused. "I wonder if she will stop fucking Alan long enough to say goodbye to her darling daughter-I wouldn't. I sure as hell wouldn't-I'd stop fucking to say hello, but I'd never stop fucking to say goodbye."
At that moment, Cora was doing just that.
"I'm ndt going to cum again," she was saying to
Alan. "Let me up-I've got to go home and tell Bev and Brad goodbye."
"I don't care whether you cum again or not," Alan said, humping vigorously between her thighs, "I got one more nut to get, and I'm gonna get it."
"Damn you, babeeee-please-oh God-I told you I didn't want to cum again, you promised thatohhh-th-the last t-time-was-was-the-last time-you said you'd let meeee-ohhh-go."
"I said cum one more time for me and you can go." Alan smiled fondly down into her lovely face, stroking gently, deeply, into the hot, wet suction engulfing his cock. "I didn't say that I would let you go without cuming myself."
"Ohhh-ohhh-ohhh!" Cora moaned, wrapping her legs around his back again, swiveling up to meet his thrusts with renewed vigor and abandon. "You sonofabitch-you sonofabitch! It's after eleventhey're leeeeavinnng-oh God-before twelve-they said they wanted-to-b-be on the road by noonyou've g-got me-going again-you bastard-now f-fuck meeee-harder-m-make meee cummm!"
Alan braced his feet and drove his cock steadily, thumpingly, directly into her weakest of all of her weak spots. It was not her womb that he had to hit, but slightly above it and to the left-right where his left-leaning cockhead landed most naturally, anyhow. He knew that it took no more than a dozen thrusts at any given time to bring an orgasm from her throat when he aimed for and hit that particular spot up inside her cunt.
And it worked like he knew it would work, like he had never seen it fail to work. He studied her face carefully, because he never grew tired of watching her beauty change like the sun rising after a long dark night, like a rainbow forming after a black, ugly, violent storm, as the tingle of her explosion began in the outskirts of her body and raced toward her loins.
And when her moans, groans, little yelps, and especially her face indicated to him that she was almost at the point of no. return-teetering on the very brink of her ultimate joy, he jerked out of her cunt and leaped from between her thighs.
She had been so near, so tightly, mindlessly wrapped up in the coiled spring of her imminent climax, that it took her a few heartbeats to realize that he had deserted her. Alan almost rolled out of the bed with laughter. She looked like she had stepped out of her bed upon awaking, to find the bedroom floor gone.
She cursed him, slapped him, kicked him, laughing almost as loudly as he was. She knew exactly why he had done it, and she was more exasperated with herself than with him, because she had been stupid enough to let him sucker her into such a trick.
"You know damned well that I don't give a fuck about time," he said to her, as she sprang out of bed and began hurrying into her clothing.
"I know, baby, I know-I just wasn't thinking--but I still think it was a rotten, dirty, stinking, fucking trick to play on me."
"And you know I give less than a fuck about hellos and goodbyes, appointments, marriages, honeymoons and all that other bullshit," he went on, as though she were actually arguing with him.
"Goddamn it-I know-I know-forget it-I'll be back as soon as I can-as soon as they're gone-and I'm going to cut your goddamned dick off."
"Give my love to the bride and groom," Alan said. "Tell Beverly that I'm going to fuck her one of these days, but no hurry-tell her to enjoy her honeymoon, and I'll just wait until she comes home to show us your first grandbaby-tell her I'll fuck her while she breast-feeds it-okay?"
"Okay," Cora smiled, no longer shocked or angry at anything he could possibly say to her.
She tried to figure out why she was so loose and natural and understanding when she. was around Alan, and so uptight, conventional arid uncompromising when she was alone or with her own children. That was something that she would have to talk to Alan about when she had more time. She wanted to always be like she was when she was with him. When she was with him, everything was right and good, nothing that they could do together, nothing that they could imagine doing together, was immoral or wrong. She couldn't go through this particular change by herself, she knew that. He would have to explain it to her.
Later, walking home, hurrying, because it was already eleven forty-five, she was still trying to work out the dilemma of her split personality. She went back for years in her mind, searching for a clue, back to her childhood in a small southern Illinois Bible Belt town-the only thing right then was what mom and pop said was right, and since all moms and pops believed in the same angry, jealous, wrathful and condemning God, all the kids that she grew up with knew exactly what was right, and exactly what was wrong at a very early age.
"Everything that feels good is wrong," she giggled. "Anything that you can't do in church on Sunday is wrong-anything that you wouldn't want Jesus to catch you doing when he returns is wrong. Raise your children in the path of righteousness and in your old age they will not depart from you," she misquoted a verse from the Bible that she was raised on, and laughed when she remembered how desperate she was to get away from home at a very early age. She had even lied and said that she was pregnant, and taken a beating from her father, so that he would sign the papers for her to get married at seventeen, so she could get the hell out of their Jesus-filled house and never go back again.
Now it was Beverly who couldn't wait to get the hell away from home.
As Cora walked in through the front door, Beverly ran to her and flung both arms around her neck.
"Oh, mommy, mommy, mommy!" she cried. "I'm so happy I can hardly stand it! I'm-I'm about to burst into a million pieces!"
"I take it, then, that your wedding night was not exactly a flop." Cora smiled indulgently.
"A flop? Are you kidding? Mommy, if heaven is any better I want no parts of it-I couldn't stand it for an eternity. All night long, Cora, can you imagine that? I don't mean most of the night-I don't mean between naps-he-we fucked all night long. And it was gorgeous-gorgeous-gorgeous! I've never seen anything like it-that man of mine is the most fantastic lover God ever created. I thought he was square-I thought he was conservative-I thought I knew it all-had done it all-couldn't possibly learn any new tricks-but wow!-that man made me forget everything I even thought I knew-he blew my mind a zillion miles into orbit."
Cora raised an eyebrow. Beverly had never talked to her like this.
"You may be a married lady and all that, but you are still only seventeen, and you just turned seventeen the day before yesterday, so I hardly think that you've had time to know it all-do it all."
"If you only knew," Beverly laughed. "Your darling daughter hasn't always been the little angel that she has been for the past six weeks-in fact, she hasn't been exactly an angel even in the past six weeks. I wasn't a virgin by any means, mother-did you think I was?"
"I have never given it much thought," Cora lied. "I guess I just assumed that you were."
"Well, your assumption was so far wrong, it ain't even funny. Were you a virgin when you married dad?"
"Well-n-no, but I hadn't had sex with anybody but him."
"Well, I'm glad I had other guys-all kinds of other guys-old, young, married, single, black, white, good, bad and indifferent. Now I know that I have got the best. If there is anyone better, I don't want him-I couldn't stand it. Brad leaves absolutely nothing to be desired, nothing to be wondered about, and it's more than just the fucking-it's his entire outrageously beautiful attitude-but the fucking is-how can I say it? When it comes to just plain fucking I thought that Kevin was the absolute-"
Beverly realized her mistake and cut off the sentence, then realizing that this, too, was an even bigger mistake, she blushed to the roots of her hair.
"I don't want to hear any more," Cora snapped idly.
"There's nothing to forgive. You're leaving today, and we won't be seeing much-if anything-of each other, anyway."
"No, no, no!" Beverly cried. "I don't want it like that-I won't have it like that-I couldn't stand it, thinking that you hate me."
"I don't hate you."
"But you don't love me." It was not a question.
"I didn't say that-you did."
"Mother, please, please try to understand-it isn't -wasn't like you think it was at all. Let me explain -please let me explain."
"I don't want to hear any more about it!" Cora cried much louder than she intended, sure that Beverly was going to tell her what she had seen on that fateful night.
"Well I'm going to talk about it whether you want to hear it or not!" Beverly retorted almost as loudly.
"Where is Kevin now? I don't know and you don't know. But I care-don't you? Don't you care where he is-how he is-what he's doing? You're his mother! Don't you love him? Have you completely forgotten all he's done for you? You're in love, you're happy, and I'm happy for you. But don't you see--can't you understand that your happiness gives you no more right to forget about Kevin-put Kevin out of your mind-than your sickness and misery gave you the right to forget me-put me out of your mind?
"I'm not condemning-I'm not accusing-I'm. not even mad at you for it. I just can't understand this turn of events. You're not sick anymore-you're happy-how can you forget Kevy now when he needs you-needs us-most? I asked you before when you had seen him last. You don't know, and you don't seem to care, and I can't believe that you are that cold and heartless. I saw him night before last, and he was drunk out of his mind-don't you care?"
"Kevin-drunk? I don't believe it!" Cora cried. "You can't make me believe it."
"No, you don't believe it-you simply refuse to believe anything bad about your little man-just like you refuse to believe that we were fucking, and it tears me up to know that it isn't because you don't think that I would ever do anything so-so unnatural. You don't give a fuck about me-you don't put anything past me. As far as you're concerned, I don't even exist. But you're so sure that Kevin is Jesus reincarnated that you just know he could see, hear, think and especially do no evil. And you're wrong all the way. Kevin is sick, Cora-sick."
"You're the sick one!" Cora shrieked. "And I don't have to stand here and listen to this-this is not what I came here for."
"Yes, I know what you came for. You came to say goodbye to the bride and groom, tell us how happy you are for us-wish us happiness and love, and hoping all the time that the goodbyes won't take too long-hoping like hell that we'll leave quickly so you can get back to your lover. Well, I hate to disappoint you, but if you want to say goodbye to Brad, too, it's going to take a while. He just called-it's taking longer with the car than he thought-maybe another whole hour.
"Now if you care anything at all about Kevin, you'll hear me out-you'll try to understand."
The two women stood in the middle of, the living room floor like adversaries in a boxing match, facing each other, ready to do battle. Cora wanted to turn and walk back out the front door. She wanted to rush back to her lover and let him love away all the frustration and anxiety, all the confusion, shame and guilt that she felt in the company of her children. But she couldn't leave, she was interested in Kevin-she loved him, and she loved Beverlyshe just didn't know how to express it.
"Kevin is sick-sexually sick, mother," Beverly went on. "It's not your fault-it's not his fault, nor my fault-it's none of our faults, and at the same time it is all of our faults. It's like your alcoholism, my nymphomania-who can put the blame on whom? If you hadn't been constantly drunk, you would have known about me, but then if you had not been constantly drunk, I know I wouldn't have turned into what I became."
"You're not making sense-you're just generalizing," Cora complained.
"I know it, but I'll clear it up-I'll get to the specifics. Sit down, Cora, this may take a while."
"I'll stand, thank you-go on."
"I saw Kevin's problem and did my best to help him solve it, and in helping him, I helped myself. If Kevin hadn't made love to me, I wouldn't have Brad today-I would be right back in the gutter. I love Kevin-I love my brother, and it has nothing--necessarily--to do with sex, though I'll admit that's part of it. I fucked him, yes, I fucked him-I made him fuck me to save him from himself-to save me from myself, and I'm not sorry. You can't make me feel sorry, ashamed or guilty.
"Sure, incest is wrong according to society, but so is sucking cocks, eating pussy, spitting on the sidewalk, not believing in God, the American flag, and women not shaving their legs and armpits. Fuck society-our society is sicker than shit-sicker than I ever was-sicker than you ever were-sicker than Kevin is, because it's this crazy, fucked up, brainwashed, hypocritical society of ours that made us sick.
"All I know is, it was better with Kevin than it was ever before with anybody until Brad. And it was just as good as with Brad. When I was fucking as many as a dozen guys in one day it made me physically ill after it was over. Each and every time I felt like the very scum of the earth-and do you know why? Because that's the. way everybody thought I should feel. Now that I look back on it-and believe me, I'm not just beginning to look back on it today -I enjoyed every minute of it-even when it was bad, and I mean the act, the incompetence of my partner, it was good.
"Kevin didn't only love me-make me unthink-ably happy by fucking me-he saved my life in the bargain. Whether you know it or not-will admit it or not-he saved your life, too, and I love you enough to use that as justification-as if any other justification were needed except the joy of loving to be loved."
"How could your having sex with your own brother possibly have saved my life?" Cora asked, bracing herself for the truth, wanting to get it out in the open and over with.
"He was seeing too much of you, and had been for too long," Beverly answered. "And when I say too much, I mean just that-in every possible way. He stripped you naked and put you to bed, he looked right into your cunt almost every night-he spent every hour of every day worrying about you. Believe it or not, he was an eighteen-year-old virgin-all that handsome hunk of pure, masculine sex was a frustrated, mixed-up virgin who couldn't-and still can't-raise a hard for the prettiest, sexiest girl in school.
"He did save your life, and our fucking was part of it-it took his mind off you-he was getting his kicks in some way from your drunken body, and I sincerely believe that if I hadn't sidetracked him, that he would have kept you drunk-just like daddy did-for different reasons, maybe-but the results would have been the same. You were completely in his control."
"What do you mean, getting his kicks from my body?" Cora pressed irritably. "What are you talking about? Say what you mean."
Beverly looked at her mother in wide-eyed astonishment. "I swear I never thought of it before this moment," she began slowly, hesitantly, obviously unsure of herself, "but-but-do you know I actually believe that you can answer that question better than I can? There's something-something about the way that you are reacting now-that simply doesn't ring true, doesn't make sense. And now that I'm thinking about it-the more I think about it--I'm just talking to myself now, Cora-you don't have to respond to this-your drinking was improving-I'd come home and find you completely sober -you didn't seem to want me around-then that one night-the first night that Kevin began coming home early-it was shortly before nine when you made me leave-just a few minutes before nine, and you told me yourself that you hadn't had a single drink all day-how could you have been passed out drunk less than twenty minutes later?
"Oh, mother, mother-what are we doing to each other? What are you trying to make me do to you? Why are we digging for flaws in each other? Are we actually trying to find reasons to fight-to condemn -to hate? I can't do it-I refuse to do it. You haven't done anything wrong-I haven't done anything wrong-Kevin hasn't done anything wrong. You're not going to make me condemn you, no matter how hard you try. I love you, and love isn't forgiving, because love can see no wrong to forgive.
"Kevin told me that when I was trying to help again night before last. I asked him to forgive me if I had ever hurt him, and he replied that if you love somebody there is nothing that they-no, I got that wrong-he said when people love each other-that's the important part-each other-there's no way for one to do anything that the other would have to forgive him for. He said no matter how much I love you, if you don't love me you're going to hurt me, and hurt me, and hurt me-and if my love becomes overbearing to you, you're going to look for things about me that you can forgive me for-or things that you can't forgive me for.
"He said, 'I love you Beverly, and I know you love me-how can you ask me to forgive you, when you have never done anything wrong?' Isn't that beautiful? Doesn't it make sense? And when we fucked, it was the best one ever, because for the first time I didn't even have the slightest notion that it was wrong.
"And when Brad fucked me all night last night, it, too, was the best I have ever had, but it wasn't one iota better than with Kevin. Brad can't love me any more than Kevin does, and I can't love Brad any more than I love Kevin-and I told Brad about me and Kevin and he understands-and I told him that I was going to fuck Kevin whenever he wanted me, and he understood that too, because he loves me. If he hadn't loved me, he would have never understood.
"And I love you, mama. I can't make you love me, but you most certainly can't make me not love you -it's as simple as that."
It was Cora's turn to look astonished. She stood staring at her daughter, blinking rapidly and licking her dry lips. She stared at her for a full half-minute. She seemed to be lost in thought, but at the same time she was looking at her daughter with intense concentration.
Beverly jerked away and raised her arms protectively as Cora lunged for her. She thought her mother was trying to strike her, and she couldn't understand why. But Cora was only reaching out to hug her, kiss her, waltz her around the room. She was laughing, crying, and trying to talk all at the same time.
"Thank you, darling, thank you-thank you-oh my kids, my kids, my sweet, generous, loving, fantastic kids-both of you-oh God, I love you both so much, and I almost blew it-I almost blew it-ohhh -let's sit down before I fall down-I must sound foolish-crazy-and I am-I am-I'm out of my mind with happiness, and it's too much-too much! The barrier is broken-I see the light-I see it all, and it is perfectly clear to me now, thanks to you. Alan's been trying, I've been trying to straighten this thing about happiness and love out in my head -but you did it-you did it-and I love you, Beverly, love you-love you!"
It took Beverly a long time to sit down, because Cora was still holding on to her tightly-still squeezing her-dancing with her. Cora's words sounded even more disjointed and incoherent, because she was kissing Beverly repeatedly while she talked.
Finally Beverly managed to pull away and flop down on the couch, eyes wide, mouth open, not sure of her mother's sanity.
Still standing, walking around in circles, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks, smiling and shaking her head as though she herself couldn't understand this miracle, Cora tried to make herself clear.
"Bear with me, darling," she said, "I'm trying to unlearn and explain-to myself as much as to you--a whole life of destructive, mind-crippling, love-killing bullshit, and I'm trying to do it on the spot as it comes to me. You opened the door to my mind, and it's all rushing in at once. I'm trying to sort it out-accept it-deal with it-and I can-I will-but I'm not sure that I'm capable of explaining it as it's happening-do you understand?"
"No," Beverly answered honestly.
Cora seemed to think that her daughter's answer was the funniest thing that she had ever heard. She laughed until more tears came. Beverly looked more perplexed than ever.
"All right," Cora said, once she was fairly calm again, "let me just grab the pieces as they come by, and lay them out for you. It's a sort of jigsaw puzzle, but maybe I can lay the pieces out in enough order so that you can get a general picture of the whole thing that I'm trying to get across to you.
"First let me clear this point up once and for all-yes, I knew that Kevy was fucking me, and I was wide awake and in my right mind" that night when you caught us-or when you caught him, at least-you didn't catch me and neither did he. He thought I was passed out cold just like you did. When you caught us I hadn't had a drink for a week. I'd just gargle with the shit and splash it around just before he got home, and pretend to be passed out.
"I don't know how long he had been fucking me without my knowledge; all I know is, when I did finally catch him at it, I was horrified. My reaction wasn't as volcanic as yours was, but it made me kind of sick. At the same time, though, the fuck was so fantastically good that I became as completely addicted to his cock as I had been to the bottle. I had to have it. I spent all day trying to talk myself out of it, but the closer it got to the time for him to come home, the hotter and juicier my pussy would get.
"During the day, I regretted everything about it, regretted having given birth to him-regretted having been born myself. But at night, when he was on me-in me-my only regret was that I couldn't come out of my act and fuck him back-that I couldn't yell my goddamned head off every time he made me cum. And he made me cum so often and so violently that only his own naivet� kept him from realizing that I couldn't possibly have been unconscious. My pussy turns almost inside out when I come.
"But back to the feelings-the bullshit. When you made him fuck you that first night, I lay there and watched you two and almost went insane with disgust, envy, jealousy, anger, shock, horror, wonder, amazement-you name it. I had never seen anything more beautiful in all my life, and at the same time, J was nauseous with embarrassment, shame, guilt--not for me--for you two. What you were doing was wrong, sinful, a crime against God, nature, and man -I thought both of you-especially you-were disgusting, sick little animals.
"And there I lay condemning you, wishing God would strike you dead, and my ass was still hiked in the air on the pillow that he had shoved under it--my pussy was still open and dripping-my whole body was still quivering from the last orgasm that he had fucked out of me.
"But I could justify mine-I was drunk-helpless -and I actually believed that lie that I played out every night. My father used to beat me regularly--for nothing at all-with a razor strap. Every time he whipped me he said he was doing it for my own good. He would pull my dress up and my panties down, and lay me across his knees. He'd get a hard-on every time, and tell me that if he didn't love me, he wouldn't be punishing me-and he believed it.
"I love sex-I've always loved it. I started masturbating while I was so young that I can't remember a time when I wasn't doing it. But do you know that until Alan I would never have admitted that to anyone in the world? It was wrong, bad, sinful, disgusting, and the best, most enjoyable thing in my horny, young, otherwise miserable life.
"Whiskey was just a substitute for sex-I was fucking the bottle. I couldn't masturbate anymore after I got married. A decent woman gets all the sex she needs from her husband, and if she doesn't get enough, she is not supposed to even think about it--she's just supposed to begin hating herself, her husband, her children, and everybody else outside of her family who is happy. She's supposed to go to church every Sunday, and pray for everything but what she needs.
"And if she can't hate, she hits the bottle or goes the pill route-gets sick without anything ailing her but her frustrated libido, and withers up and dies. If I could have only masturbated, but J couldn't, the worse beating I ever got was because I got caught playing with myself when I was about seven or eight. The vileness of my body and sinful thoughts concerning it was a constant and ongoing sermon that my mother preached to me at every possible opportunity.
"Mom went the hate route-I went the bottle route. Every time sex entered my mind, I would drink the thought away, and sex stayed on my mind -I couldn't drink it away-I could only drink myself unconscious, and as soon as I came to, the sex thoughts would come back, and the cycle would repeat itself. So the best thing that has ever happened to me in my life was Kevin's fucking me. Am I boring you with this?"
"No, mom, of course not-let it all come out--keep talking-it's good for you."
"Yes, it's good for me-I feel better already, and I haven't begun to say what I want to-I don't guess I'll ever be able to really say it all, but I want to get as much of it said as I can now, so that part will be out of the way. Like I said, the talking is as much for me as it is for you-I'm trying to tell myself what a fool I've been-trying to tell you why I haven't been able to tell you that I love you-haven't been able to show you that I love you-why I couldn't be honest with myself or anybody else.
"While you were talking to me just now, for instance-every time you said the words fuck, cock, pussy or cunt, I wanted to slap your face-knock you to the floor. And less than an hour ago Alan and I were fucking and I was talking to him exactly like you used to talk to Kevin when I used to lay in bed and listen to you two having such a ball out in the living room-your room-his room-all over the house."
Beverly initiated the laughter this time, and Cora joined in.
"It was great-fantastic," Beverly laughed, "I have no regrets."
"I'm sure it was-I know it was, but I thought it was horrible while it was going on. You both were enjoying it too much-you were having too much fun. I couldn't understand the need for all the filthy talk-that was just another sign of your complete depravity. And if you'd hear me and Alan talking--especially me-even your ears would burn.
"Even now-right now, while I'm talking to you--I keep telling myself that it would have been better had the divorce not happened, had I been able to raise you two with a good and loving father. I'm supposed to think that-I can't help but think that--and I know as well as I know that fucking is good, that your father was neither good nor loving-he was a phony-I know that I would have been the most miserable woman in the world.
"My mother used to always say that everything happens for the best. This is by no means true, of course, but I can see what she meant at least in the case of my drinking. If I hadn't become an alcoholic, there never would have been any grounds for a divorce, and I'm so glad it happened during those years when you-quote-unquote-heeded me most. If I hadn't been a lush, I would have fucked up your mind and your life completely. I would have filled your pure, sweet, loving and open mind with so much shit, so much garbage like shame, guilt, disgust and hate, that you would have been ruined for life. I would have mangled your mind, your emotions, your senses, just like my mother mangled mine-just like her mother mangled hers-just like all good, decent, self-respecting mothers have no choice but to do, because they themselves have never had an opportunity to learn anything in their lives but hypocrisy and deceit. Everything I know that is worth knowing I learned front my kids-my three kids-you, Kevy, and Alan. Kevy taught me to fuck-Alan taught me to live-and you taught me to love.
"I really thought that there were degrees of love--different kinds of love. Alan tried to tell me this many, many times, but I simply would not listen. You made it clear to me, but he couldn't. He said that there are different feelings that one can have for people and things-that one can like people or things more or less-dislike things or people more or less-but love and hate are absolutes. He's traveled all over the country-all over the world-and he has friends everywhere. He likes all of them with varying degrees of affection, but he only loves a few of them -men and women alike-and he swears that he loves them all exactly the same-he loves them all just as much as he loves me.
"Only when you told me about your confession to Brad did it become clear to me what he was saying, and how true it was-is. I love your-our-Brad. How many times have I seen him? I don't know-no more than a couple of dozen all the while he has been in this town, but I dug him on sight, and I dig him even more now. In fact, I can say it-I love him, I love him like I love you, like I love Kevin and Alan -I could fuck him-now-without having to go through any more changes than I would have to go through to shake his hand."
"That's what he said," Beverly said.
"What's what he said?"
"When I told him about Kevin, and how I felt--that's what he said about you. He said that he has had the hots for you for years-that it was the fact that I was your daughter fhafc first attracted him to me. He said he never would have admitted it, or acted upon it, but now he could say it-he loves you just like he loves me-just like I love Kevin-and that if you thought like I did, that he would fuck you."
"Well, you can tell him that I think exactly like you think."
"Don't worry, I will. And just from what you've said about him, just from what I've seen of him--I'm sure I don't even have to ask you about Alan's attitudes."
"He told me to tell you that he was going to fuck you, but he said he could wait-enjoy your honeymoon, he'll wait until you have your first baby-he wants to fuck you while you breast-feed it."
"How did he know that I plan to breast-feed my babies? I do, but I never told anybody."
"Alan knows everything. He's a genius-a miracle worker-look at me-look at me-am I not beautiful? Have you ever seen a happier person?"
"Yes, you're beautiful, mommy-and unless it's me, I can't imagine anybody being happier."
"And it's all because I am loved-fucked-adored -by Alan. Did I ever tell you that he is only twenty-four-the same age as Brad? When I saw Alan, I thought he was too young for me, until he told me that he was thirty-two just to get to me. Then when he finally got around to telling me his real age, it didn't make any difference-I couldn't have cared if he had been only fourteen.
"Alan has got this mother complex, and I mother the fuck out of him. It's not just his fucking that keeps me hooked-though that alone could do it-he fucks me silly-fucks me to death and brings me back to life at will-you've got to see the pictures that he paints of me-pictures of my face, my tits, my cunt, my ass. Can you imagine? He has painted at least a dozen pictures of my asshole. He says I have the most beautiful asshole in the world, and I know it's true.
"We'll never get married, of course-fuck marriage-but we're going to grow old together, and I'm glad that we won't ever be alone-we'll have you and Brad and Kevin, and I hope, Peggy-plus your children to keep us young and happy and free."
"Speaking of Kevin," Beverly said, "isn't that how we got started on this? He didn't say that he was coming to my wedding, but I guess I expected him, and now I am worried about him. I just heard Brad pull up in the drive-he'll be ready to go, but I'm not leaving here until we do something about Kevin."
"Yes," Cora agreed, smiling as though it were no big thing, "we have definitely got to do something about mommy's little man."
12
Cora and Beverly had laid their plans so well, had set up the scene so naturally, that Kevin had no reason to believe that he was witnessing spontaneous, but preplanned, play acting when he entered the house. He had been shocked, frightened and disgusted to find Cora not only drinking, but already tipsy.
"Don't fuss at me, dear," Cora had pleaded with the coy cuteness of tipsy old ladies, who seem to think that they become young and irresistible when, they are high, "after all it's only champagne-and you know champagne is harmless. The bride and groom have delayed their honeymoon trip for you--isn't that sweet of them? They didn't want to leave without telling you goodbye."
Kevin hadn't wanted to see Brad and Beverly go. Beverly had told him that they were leaving for California no later than noon, and he had purposely stayed away an extra two hours, to make extra sure that they would be gone by the time he got home.
He had tried to be cordial to the obviously irritated, visibly impatient couple.
Their goodbyes had been exaggeratedly cheerful and repetitious. It had been an effort for Kevin not to walk out of the front door before they were finally out of the house and on the road. Now, almost two hours later, he felt worse than he had felt in years, and it took an even greater effort for him to remain cool-not lose his temper or his patience with Cora.
"Why, mom, why?"
"I think you asked me that before, and I think I told you about Alan-he's only twenty-four, and I'm not a cradle robber-he has no definite plans-he's -he's-"
"He's not worth it," Kevin finished for her, "no man is-nobody is-please, mom, listen to me-just try to listen to me. I've had a hard time this past week or so-it's been, pure hell trying to find myself -get my head together-and I'm about to get straight-don't ruin it for me."
"How can I ruin it for you? You're grown-do what you want to do-don't worry about me."
"You can ruin it for me by going back to the bottle-you know I'm not going to desert you-you know I'm going to stay with you as long as you need me. I love you, mom. I'm not accusing or condemning you-I'm not even angry-just so disappointed, so hurt. I'm disappointed and hurt because you're doing this to yourself-why, mom, why?"
"You keep asking the same question over and over again. I'm way over twenty-one-I don't have to ask permission for anything that I choose to do."
Kevin was sitting in an easy chair directly in front of Cora, who sat comfortably sprawled on the couch.
Her dress was wrinkled way up her widely splayed thighs; she was holding a fresh bottle of bourbon to her panty-encased crotch like a man holding on to his hard cock. Every time she would lift the bottle to her lips, Kevin's eyes would fall to the familiar split bulge, tantalizingly visible behind the thin white panties, and he would twist and shiver somewhere down in his guts.
"Please, for me, stop it-stop it. You're all I've got now-Beverly is gone-I need you-you've got to help me, or I don't think I can make it."
"What's Beverly got to do with it? If you love her so much why weren't you here yesterday to share her happiness-why did you stay away today until you thought she was gone?"
"You would never understand."
"Try me."
"I couldn't stand to see her get married. I know her too well-she's got to be herself-she's got to be free, and I'm so afraid he's going to try to make her into a college professor's wife, and he'll never be able to do it. If he loves her enough he will let her be herself, but that kind of love is hard to come by-I don't think they're gonna make it, and it breaks me up inside."
"And you don't love me enough to let me be myself."
"Of course I do-that's not the question. I love you anyway you are-anyway you become. But I don't like what you're doing to yourself, and 'if you love me-if you love yourself-you'll stay clearheaded and beautiful for us-you won't go back to the ugliness and constant stupor. I told you, I'm not going to leave you-not going to stop loving you--but I'm not going to stop trying to help you."
Cora was almost tempted to end the charade. She started to hand Kevin the bottle of apple juice that she was drinking, and laugh when he discovered what it was. Then she would talk to him as openly, honestly and frankly as she had talked to Beverly earlier. But she was afraid he couldn't cope with it. She decided to play it out as originally planned.
She lifted the bottle to her lips and watched his face over it as his eyes locked between her thighs. She took a long drink, giving him a good look.
"What happened to Peggy?" she asked, blocking his view by placing the bottle at her crotch again."
"Nothing-let's not talk about Peggy."
"Aha-so we've got the same problem-I heard about your boozing it up. Now the neophyte, apprentice kettle wants to call this old experienced pot black."
"No, no, no-you've got it all wrong-I tried it--out of idiocy-desperation-but I love myself too much to destroy myself like that-I'll never take another drink again."
"I love myself, too, now," Cora said, "and I love you-I love both of us too much to ever hurt either of us again-but believe me, I've got to do what Fm doing now-I can see no other way out for me-but this is the last time you'll ever see me like this, I promise you. Just don't leave me-stay with me and help me ride this one-this last one-out."
"I'll stay with you, mom-I'll help you. I believe you because I want to believe you. I've got to believe you-I won't bug you anymore."
"Good, 'cause I feel too groovy to be bugged-I'm not Watergate, so don't bug me."
Kevin shuddered. She was really getting plastered -the bottle was half empty-his cock had already begun to swell in his tight jeans.
"Just what happened to you and Peggy?"
"Nothing, mom, nothing."
"Won't she give you any?"
"Any what?" Kevin asked stupidly, shocked at the question.
"Pee-hole, poontang, twat, gash, cunt, p-u-s-s -take your choice." "Mother!"
"Don't mother me-that's like bugging-don't be a mother bugger."
Kevin laughed in spite of himself. Cora was staring glassily at him, grinning moistly, foolishly.
"No, that's not the problem-quite the contrary."
"You mean she's giving you too much? It's a long way from basketball season-how could she be giving you too much?"
Kevin laughed again.
"No-you've got it all wrong. I'm not doing anything with her-I can't."
"Can't what-can't get it in?"
Kevin's laughter was gone, but he still smiled through the pain.
"Can't get it up."
"What?"
"I can't have an erection-get a hard-on-raise a boner-take your choice."
"Bullshit. I get a hard-on just looking at that sexy little doll, and I haven't even got a cock."
Kevin's laughter returned. This was a side of Cora that he didn't know existed. He was almost tempted to make a pass at her-a proposition. The thought appealed to him-he tried to think of a way to phrase it that wouldn't be too direct-wouldn't shock her too much.
"I think I've got an Oedipus complex," he finally said. "Every time I try to make it with her, you seem to be looking over my shoulder."
"Wasn't Oedipus the dude who screwed his own mother?" Cora asked, seeming to have trouble focusing her eyes on Kevin's face.
"Yes."
"I've got to go pee," Cora said, "don't go away. I want to talk some more about your complex-I'm not a psychiatrist, but I'm a mother-and everybody knows that it's mothers that make psy-sy--fuck it--head shrinkers-whoops! That's your problem--isn't it-sh-sh-shrunken head? Well, don't you just worry 'bout it-ol' doc Blake will deal with its-soon as she gets back from the bath-bathroom that is, if she ever gets her ass up from this f-fucking couch."
Cora was struggling to get up from the couch. Still holding on to the now-empty bottle, she would push down into the soft cushion with her free hand, rise halfway up, then flop back down heavily. Kevin was about to get up and help her, when she finally made it.
For a moment she stood teetering, almost falling, rocking, swaying, unable to focus on the bathroom door.
Kevin leaped up and let her lean on his shoulder as he led her in the right direction. Turning his face away from the strong odor of the whiskey that she had liberally splashed on the bodice of her dress, he let his hand fall flat on her ass as he guided her. He didn't expect her to react to it, and she didn't.
"Can you make it?" he asked, holding the door open for her and pushing her gently toward the stool.
"Sh-sh-sure I can make it-jus' don't you-g-go 'way-we still got to talk 'bout your com-c-comproblem."
Kevin watched as she stumbled against the stool, caught herself, and tried to pull up her dress and pull down her panties with the bottle still in her hand.
Hurrying to her, he took the bottle gently from her hand and dropped it into the wastebasket. She snatched up her dress, and jerked down her panties as though she couldn't wait for him to turn his back. Flopping heavily down on the stool, she looked up at him as though she had forgotten that he was standing there.
"G-get outa here-s-standin' there watch--watching me piss isn't g-going to help your complex any."
Kevin turned and went back out into the living room. He knew that she was on the verge of passing out. He stroked his aching cock.
"Easy, boy, easy-you're going to get it in a very few minutes."
Cora pulled her panties the rest of the way off and dropped them on the floor. Going to the medicine cabinet, she took out a tumbler of whiskey that she had hidden there, swished it around in her mouth, and made a face of revulsion as she swallowed it.
Stumbling heavily against the bathroom door, she slammed it open with her body as she crashed with a muffled thump to the living room carpet.
Kevin stripped off his clothes before he even bothered to pick her up. Scooping her up in his arms, he fairly ran into her bedroom with her. As he wrestled her limp body out of her dress, he carried on a low key, but almost hysterically urgent monologue with her.
"I'm sorry, mom, I'm sorry-I'd rather be with Peggy-I'd rather be normal-but I'm not-I'm not -and you're all I've got. I'm glad you broke off with Al-I'm glad you're so conventional and hung up that you can't relate to that beautiful stud just because he's younger than you-if you only knew what a cradle robber you really are-but don't worry about Al-I'll take care of all your needs-I'll do my damnedest to keep you away from him-I don't know what I'd do if I lose you-if I have to keep you drunk-so be it-I'm sorry-but I just can't help myself."
Lifting her ass and sliding a pillow under it, he positioned himself between her quivering thighs.
"We're going to do it today just like old times," he promised. "I want it all-I'm going to suck your cunt-fuck you in the ass-in your mouth--everything-everything. But now I've just .got to get a real quick, preliminary nut-I've got to get used to this sweet, hot pussy all over again-it's been so long-so long."
His cock slid into her with a familiar but still surprising thrill that Cora knew she would never get used to-never get enough of.
"Ohhh, my darling-darling-darling," she cooed breathlessly into his ear, flinging both arms around his neck, locking her long, strong legs over his suddenly shocked motionless back. "Don't stop-please don't stop-it's' all right, baby-keep fucking--mommy loves it--mommy has always loved it. I've known you were doing this to me for a long time now -and I've only been sorry that I couldn't move with you-fuck you back-let you know how much mommy loves it.
"Thank you, darling-thank you-thank you--thank you for saving my life-for giving me such sweet, loving pleasure. I'm going to pay you for it, starting now, and I'm going to pay you in spades--with interest. Just like you said, we're going to do everything-just like old times-but it's going to be better this time, because I'm going to be working with you and loving it every step of the way.
"Ohh, it's go good-soooo good-take your time, baby-mommy's big, big man-we've got as long as you want-we'll do anything you want-and when we're through, we'll talk about you and Peggy."
13
One would have thought that Cora and Alan were the teenagers and that Kevin and Peggy were the adults, the way the foursome acted throughout the day and part of the night.
Cora and Alan were loud, giggly, playful, silly. They chased each other through the park, rolled and tumbled in the grass, tickled and pinched and fondled and kissed each other.
Kevin and Peggy were quiet, reserved, contemplative. They walked sedately together, almost timidly holding hands, smiling indulgently at the older couple, but not joining in their horseplay.
Cora and Alan smooched all the way through the afternoon movie.
Kevin and Peggy sat, still holding hands, but staring straight ahead at the screen.
Alan caressed Cora's thighs and crotch throughout, dinner. Cora played with his concealed but hard cock through his pants.
Kevin and Peggy ate-both using both hands.
"It's been a beautiful day-a fabulous evening--we have thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it," Kevin announced at eleven o'clock. "Everything was great, from the zoo to the nightclub. But it's late--don't you two have anything better to do than spend the rest of the night with us?"
Cora was wearing a red hot-pants suit, Alan was wearing a bronze-colored, bell-bottomed jumpsuit. They were beautiful, and actually looked like teenagers. They were standing in the middle of the living room floor, kissing. Music was playing softly, the lights were low, Kevin's erection was about to burst through his pants. Peggy, sitting on the couch beside Kevin with her head resting on his shoulders, was staring down at his bulging crotch, trembling slightly.
"Do we, dear?" Cora asked.
"I hadn't thought of it," Alan replied, "but I guess we could go home and play checkers or maybe watch TV."
"Oh goody," Cora said, "and I'll pop some pop corn."
They were going out of the front door without saying goodbye, or even looking at Kevin and Peggy.
"I've got an even better idea," the teenagers heard Cora say before she closed the door behind her, "why don't we just go home and fuck?"
"Your mother is fantastic-fantastic!" Peggy cried, laughing. "I've never seen anybody like her-I didn't know mothers could be that way-my goodness, she's younger than I am-younger than you are!"
"She's a gas," Kevin agreed proudly.
"And Alan-my God, Kevin, have you ever seen a more beautiful person? I don't mean just his good looks-I mean he's-he's-like wow! He's so sexy he makes my knees tremble every time I look at him. And the way they act together! Every time they touch, they're making love to each other with their hands. Every time they look at each other they're screwing each other with their eyes-my goodness, they're both so erotic."
"Do you think you could ball Al?"
"Could I? If I didn't have this Kevin Blake fixation, I'd be fighting Cora for him right now. I know I couldn't win, because Cora is too beautiful, too sexy, but that wouldn't stop me from giving it a try."
"Do you mean you would actually consider fucking somebody beside me?" Kevin asked with mock indignation.
"I'm always considering screwing everybody imaginable," Peggy admitted, "but only in my mind--that's practically all I think about-but I know it's all in my mind-I can't even handle that word that you used."
"You mean fuck?"
"Yes, just the word turns me on, but I have trouble saying it aloud-I can think it-whisper it to myself-but I can't say it, and I want to-and I want to do it-do it--do it--like Beverly used to--I want to catch up on all I've missed, and then some. Do I sound awful?"
"No-not really, but don't you think I'll be enough for you?"
"I hope so-once we get around to it-but since marriage is out of the question for us for a long time -if you are not enough for me, I'm going to fuck--hey, I can say it-I'm going to fuck other guys. You have got to be first, and I love you so much that I hope we are so good together in bed that we can't get enough of each other. I'm going to make it so good for you that I know it won't be my fault if we don't click-but I'm determined to have a beautiful sex life-do you follow me?"
"I'm way ahead of you," Kevin said, pointing down at his erection, "look."
"What do you think I've been looking at all night? Aren't you afraid it's going to . . . ?"
"Not a chance. Not a chance in the world-I got my shit together finally, and you're helping me get it tighter telling me these things. I had you pictured all wrong, and that was part of the reason I couldn't make it with you-taking advantage of your innocence and all that shit."
"Innocence? Are you kidding? Ask Bev about me -I even shocked her. She told me that if I would talk to you like I talk to her, that you would have no problem raising a hard-on for me. But that was my problem-I was afraid I'd turn you off-I was afraid of myself-I thought my thoughts were dirty--wrong. I could talk to Bev openly, because of her reputation, and because she is my best friend and she loves me as much as I love her. She understands me, just like I understand her. We went down on each other, and it was terrific. If you and I can't make it, I'm going to ball with chicks, too-I really digit."
"Where would you draw the line?"
"At hurting people-using people-otherwise, no restrictions. Mutual desire is enough. Beverly told me that she would fuck you if you wanted her. That didn't turn me off-why should it? I love you, and I love her in the same way-we both have the same feelings-I could understand-accept-even dig her wanting to fuck you."
"That's easy to say," Kevin said, getting up from the couch and pulling her up with him, "because it was just talk between you and Bev. But what if some day-maybe even after we're married-you should walk in the house and catch us in bed fucking. What would you do?"
"Join you-get in bed with you, and love the hell out of both of you."
Holding hands, they walked around the living room turning out floor lamps. He dropped her hand at his bedroom door, switched on the bright overhead light, and began unbuttoning his shirt. Peggy kicked off her sandals and unzipped her skirt.
"Whose idea was our day together?" Peggy asked, letting her skirt slither to the floor and stepping out of it. "It helped you, didn't it?"
"It was mom's idea, and yep, it helped-just like she said it would."
Kevin dropped his shirt and unbuckled his belt. Peggy pulled her blouse over her head.
"You mean you actually discussed our problem with her and she gave you advice? I told you-your mother is the most fantastic creature I've ever encountered. How did you word it-what did you say?"
Kevin sat down on the bed to pull off his shoes and socks, then stood up to finish pulling off his pants.
"I told her I couldn't raise a hard for you-I gave her a rundown of the situations we'd been in where fucking would have been the most natural thing to do, and I couldn't perform. She said that I tried too hard-that I built up a case against myself in advance and won it every time. She said I should relax and enjoy you, instead of making a blind, hopeless attack on your cunt every chance I got."
"Was that the word she used-cunt?"
Peggy was unhooking her bra, standing wide legged in sheer bikini panties, slightly bent over, reaching up behind her with both hands.
"Of course that's the word she used-if she had been talking about your nose, she wouldn't have said your olfactory organ. Then she suggested a day with her and Alan, and she said that if I didn't have a raging, unbendable, indeflatable hard-on after she and Alan left us, that she would kiss my ass on the steps of City Hall at high noon, and give me thirty minutes to draw a crowd."
Peggy laughed merrily, stripping off her panties.
"You mean she actually said that? Wow-she's cool-maybe I can make it with her, too. I'll bet I could if I played it right. I'd like to-the whole Blake family-I could dig it. And it did work, didn't it, darling? We're going to make it tonight, aren't we?"
Peggy was naked, leaning over the bed, turning back the spread and sheets. Kevin was naked, standing behind her. When he didn't answer her, she straightened and turned. Her eyes dropped from his smiling face down to his hard, throbbing cock.
"Oh my God," she breathed in wonder and awe, "it's so beautiful-so big and long and hard and fat! I'm going to take it and take it, and take it-I want it so badly."
She hopped into bed and rolled over on her back, spreading her creamy thighs, caressing her burning, eager, technically virgin cunt.
Kevin climbed into bed behind her, rolled between her thighs, and braced himself on elbows and knees as she used both hands to guide his shaft into her hot, tight, straining open hole.
"So big-so hot-so hard-so good-it hurts already, darling. I knew it was going to hurt-but keep on-push it in, baby-all the way-don't stop-it hurts terribly-but I can take it-I can take it-all of it-give me all of it-even the pain is sweetummmm-yes-yes-yessss-like that-just shove it into me steadily-slowly-but don't stop-aahhhh -oh God-oh God-you did it-we did it-lie still for just a minute, baby-let me get used to all of you all the way inside me!"
Kevin lay still, hugging her, kissing her, trying to compare her cunt to Cora's and Beverly's, and finding no comparison-this was a spine chilling, completely new experience for him-better than anything he could even imagine, let alone possibly already have experienced.
"The pain," Peggy whispered into his mouth, "it's -it's going-going-gone! Move now, darling-any way you want to-as hard as you want to-you can't hurt me anymore-ohh, yes-yesss-don't laugh at-me-now-I'm going to-try to-m-move with you-umm-like-ummm-this-and this-and-oh God-this!"
And in a moment they were working together in perfect, smooth, driving rhythm-she was twirling her ass up to meet his thrust, and he was driving it back down to the bed in a dancing, bouncing cadence that was as natural as breathing, as artistic as a tango, and so good to both of them that all thoughts of ever getting enough of each other vanished from their minds.
Maybe we won't ever want anyone else again, Kevin thought. Maybe it will stay so perfect that fucking anyone else will be completely out of the question. But it's nice to know that we are all of one mind, and none of us need ever go wanting for love again!
