This recent article began by sawing that the swinging sexual revolutionaries of the '60s, who pioneered swap parties and gave birth to the Sexual Freedom League, have had it. They are now saying that "sex doesn't mean a thing if it doesn't have an emotional zing, according to a panel of social scientists."
In this novel, the author has described a situation very much like those in the interviews-but with, at least one hopes so, a big difference.
The protagonists are Helen and Max, happily married but suffering from the marital "blahs" and who have just given up swinging; their teenage son, Tim, and his younger sister Sally.
The reasons for Helen and Max quitting the swinging scene are unclear, but probably the reason for that is the couple themselves are uncertain. All they know is that they've had it.
So they take off in their camper for a vacation, a typical American family, in order to make the break easier. In the course of their travels various temptations arise, but the parents are able to resist them as long as they come from outside the family group. What they can neither resist or defend is their tremendous physical attraction to their own children.
They fight, but not hard enough, and the inevitable happens.
Perhaps they are looking to recapture their own youth, and perhaps the outside sexual contacts have left them vulnerable to forbidden incestuous activity.
While these four seem happy enough, in their new world of sexual pleasure, obviously the day of reckoning is yet to come. Even as a temporary solution, theirs is not one recommended by either law, moralists or psychologists. Nonetheless they blunder happily into what Max thinks of as a classic example of "togetherness" as recommended by women's magazines.
No attempt is made here either to glorify or condemn, although the bizarre family scene is probably not unique. If anything will save them, it is the honesty with which they face life, or so the husband and father thinks.
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CHAPTER ONE
Max killed the engine and got out of the car without so much as looking at Helen and the kids. They were all hoping so desperately for a vacancy at the hotel, they didn't even want to talk about it. Sally and Tim were bored with sleeping in the crowded camper; bored, in fact, with the whole vacation. If the weather hadn't turned so goddam cold, the youngsters could spread their sleeping bags on some beach under the stars. They were good kids, they hadn't bitched out loud, but he knew how they felt. And Helen had about had it with cooking and sleeping and just plain existing in one tiny space.
Max had his own reasons for wanting a hotel room. Steady now, old man, he told himself. Sex wasn't the be-all and end-all of life. Just because he'd grown so accustomed to having so much of it, didn't mean he couldn't go one week without fucking somebody, even Helen. Then he felt guilty for putting it that way. They'd given up swinging for good reasons, and it hadn't been all her doing. He'd agreed, hadn't he? But when they planned this vacation as a sort of period in their lives, an end to sexual freedom and a beginning, or second start, on family togetherness, he hadn't expected it to mean total abstinence! No wonder he was getting irritable.
He wrenched his mind back to the present. La Posada Vieja certainly lived up to its name: The Old Hotel. It wasn't much compared to a Hilton or even a Holiday Inn. Still, there was a certain charm to the ancient adobe building. He stood in an interior court which was colonaded around most of the four sides. Vines and other unidentifiable plants grew overhead and underfoot. He walked between them, looking for the office, and blinked. The hotel's laundry was draped in the courtyard, on clotheslines and bushes. That was one way of doing it, he thought.
The office was empty, but he finally found the bar and a bartender who spoke English. When he went out to the camper again, he tried to make a joke of it.
"Do you want the good news first, or the bad news?"
Helen and the kids just looked at him, so he went on to explain. The Posada had one large room vacant; two double beds. "So I took it," he said. "At least it's a change."
The kids were cheerful enough, but Helen didn't say anything and he wished he knew what she was thinking. Did she feel anywhere near as hot as he did? They could sneak out to the camper, if she did, once the kids were asleep. He wished now they'd stopped at the luxury hotel in San Ignacio. At this point, he'd be glad to pay almost thirty dollars for a private room for themselves, and another thirty for the kids. Of course it would shoot the hell out of their budget, but the ache in his groin didn't give a shit about money.
There was no use thinking about it. Their room was huge, with tile floors and crappy furniture, but the beds looked okay. The stack of wood beside the fireplace promised warmth, at any rate. Once the luggage was in, he kindled a fire. They didn't really need it yet but it was one way of hiding his immense hard-on which he didn't want the kids to see. Kneeling in front of the fire, feeding it twigs,' he thought of all the times in the past few days he'd had to cross his legs, or hold a newspaper on his lap, or some other damn thing. Anything, he thought bitterly, to keep Sally and Tim from knowing their father was a real human being who got horny sometimes.
Watching him from across the room, Helen grinned. Poor old Max! Poor old Helen, too, if it came to that. It wasn't one bit easier for her than it was for him. Except, of course, that his showed! And if the cream from her hungry cunt seeped through her panties, and even through her heavy pants, everybody would look the other way tactfully. They'd assume she was on the rag, or had some kind of female discharge or other. She rubbed her thighs together and tried to fix her mind on something else. If the sun would only shine! It was childish to fix her hopes for a new life on a two-week vacation. If this kept up, she'd quit arguing with Max and they'd be right back where they'd been, and she didn't want that. There'd been too many bummers.
Not that she didn't like the sexual freedom, while it lasted it was marvelous. All her fantasies came to life sooner or later. She'd been told every woman dreams about rape, and she believed it. Brought up in prudery as most women were, rape was the only way they could enjoy themselves without guilt. And some of her encounters in their swinging group had sure as hell seemed like rape to her.
The trouble was, good manners lasted even in swinging. Or maybe it was a basic sense of fairness, or fear of the group's disapproval. What was she supposed to do, when Max was fucking the hell out of Bernice across the room? Bernice's husband Paul was a slob, and she'd managed to avoid him up till then. She sat and had a cigarette and watched Max, his hard white ass moving in a fast blur, as he pounded his superbig prick into Bernice. Just thinking about it made her cunt contract and the cream flow heavier in her itchy pussy. Bernice was a slob, too, but a sexy slob. Her boobs looked like two big bowls of white jelly, spilling and squashing over her chest. One thing, it was fascinating to see what others looked like naked. Bernice's tits were the biggest she'd ever seen, their aureoles big as saucers, the nipples themselves rosy-brown and as long as a finger joint. When Max sucked one of them in his mouth, it must feel like swallowing somebody's finger.
She remembered with a shiver how Paul came up and grabbed her by the ass. His fingers cupped around her buttock, and he squeezed hard. Hard enough to make her yelp.
He just grinned and squeezed again. "Come on, baby, lie down and spread 'em out. You can smoke any time."
She didn't want to. Some of the other women complained about his roughness, and besides, she was exhausted. She'd spent the past half hour giving her best blow job to another man, one she really liked and enjoyed. He'd gone down on her, too, and she'd enjoyed it so thoroughly, she wanted just to sit and remember for a moment.
"Later, Paul," she said. "I'm tired."
"You don't have to do anything," he smirked. "Men do all the work, didn't you know that? Come on, gash, I want a piece right now."
It wasn't only his rudeness. They had rules about it and no man or woman was supposed to have to do anything they didn't want to. Only-not too many argued with Paul. Looking at his huge body, she could see why. He was built like a wrestler, the muscles in his arms writhing like snakes under his hairy pelt. And he was an MCP if ever she'd seen one-a male chauvinist pig. She wasn't exactly a women's libber, but she did have respect for herself as a person. To Paul she was just what he'd said: gash. An ugly word.
Some of the women complained about his roughness, but she had to admit others liked it. And they all noticed his enormous cock, looking sideways out of their eyes at it even without an erection. Paul made fun of the other men who liked hugging and kissing and feeling a woman up. Foreplay was for sissies, he said. A cunt, and he made that an ugly word, too, didn't have to do anything but spread her legs, and he'd give her the thrill of her life, he boasted.
Paul balanced his hard prick on his hands, waving it in front of her face. "Look what I've got for you," he boasted. The huge scarlet head weaved a little as if feinting, like a boxer. The shaft was dark with blood, too, bursting thickly out of his matted pubic hair. It was right in front of her eyes and she gasped and drew back a little. That made him angry.
"Come on, cunt," he said, pulling her up by one arm.
She could have made a fuss, of course. That was where the rape fantasy came in. Secretly she was enjoying the sensation of being forced against her will. When she really thought about it, she knew that was Paul's appeal. Even if he'd never figured it all out, he must sense it, and lived up to his role. Part of her secretly thrilled to his crudity. In fact, she had the sudden impulse to wrap her lips around his fantastically big dong, but she put it down. It wouldn't suit the little play they were acting out. Instead, she let him pull her into an empty bedroom and toss her on the bed.
Helen had a clear picture in her mind of how they'd looked, as if she'd been able to watch in a mirror. She was rather a small woman, flat-stomached and sparely built except for her tits. She had a pair of knockers, she knew, which almost looked obscene on her slim body. Oh, her hips were rounded and womanly. After all, she'd had three children. But for the age of thirty-six, her body looked slimly unused. She enjoyed the satiny white look of her skin in contrast to Paul's swarthy hairiness. Her mass of glossy brown hair had long ago come tumbling down around her shoulders, and her curly triangle glistened with cream and semen.
Paul crouched over her on his hands and knees, his hard prick brushing against her thighs. At least he didn't want to fuck her in the ass, she thought with a delicious thrill of fear. Much as she enjoyed having her anus reamed out, she knew it couldn't take anything the size of him.
She clenched her round thighs together only to have the fun of feeling him wrench them apart. When she pushed at his shoulders, he pinned her wrists with his big hands. Slowly, leisurely, he poked at her hair-lined slit with his hot cockhead. The bulging scarlet flesh burned as it slid inside. Helen gasped, and this time it was for real.
"God, Paul," she whimpered. "I feel like I got a telephone pole up me."
He smirked and said, "You want a real ride, baby, you come to ol' Paul."
She'd never felt so stuffed and filled before. Her resilient cunt walls were stretched as far as they could go, sending out a thick profusion of juices to ease his way. Even her clit was touched and sweetly abraded without his having to do anything special about it. Her eyes widened as she felt the cockhead twitch deep in her belly. God, he was right smack up against her backbone! She just couldn't believe the sensations it gave her, a tingling sort of pain that faded into warm spreading pleasure. And when he began to saw slowly in and out....
"Mom! What's the matter, Mom, you sick or something?"
Helen blinked and came back to the present. Her face reddened as she realized where she was, and how. Crouched over on a wooden chair, her hands between her thighs, hair swinging while she breathed quickly in remembered ecstasy.
Tim looked at her curiously. "Are you sick?"
"Uh ... oh, no, darling, not really. Just had a little pain in my turn but it's gone already. I guess I must be hungry."
"Let's eat, then. Dad and Sally are in the dining room already." The boy wondered if he should help her up, but was relieved to see her smile and rise and look normal again. There were so many things about grownups he didn't understand. Even though he was fourteen and considered himself almost an adult, he had trouble figuring out what being an adult meant.
In the dining room, Helen found it easy to drift again into her reverie. The kids read comic books while they waited for the meal. Max seemed lost in a dream of his own. After sixteen years of marriage, she was able to guess pretty accurately where his thoughts were, and they weren't too different from her own.
She remembered again how orgasm had thundered through her, as she lay gasping and panting under Paul's heavy body. His hot seed squirted into her and overflowed her cunt, trickling warmly down the inside of her thighs. Paul's smile was triumphant, he was as pleased with himself as a kitten in cream. And she too was certainly satisfied-physically. She'd cum so many times that evening already, she'd lost count.
Wandering back into the living room-Paul was never one to enjoy the snugglings and whisperings and happy kisses after climax-she'd looked around at the group. Most of them were as wiped out as she and Paul. The women had begun to comb their hair and slip into clothes, and some of the men were also partly dressed. Others still sprawled nakedly exhausted, flushed with satisfaction, maybe enjoying a last few minutes of exhibitionistic behavior. Swingers were also apt to be exhibitionists, she'd long ago discovered.
And that's when a little voice in her head said: Enough of this. You've had enough of this.
She'd expected a big argument from Max, and he did grumble and ask her to think about it for a while. But he didn't scream and holler, as she'd thought he might. He accepted it, without really explaining why. They both knew the other couples in their swap group would make a fuss, so they planned this vacation in advance of telling their friends. They hoped by the time they returned, the worst would be over. Those who wanted to maintain the friendship without swapping sex, would do so; and the others would drift away.
Of course while they wanted to be together as a family, neither she nor Max had quite this degree of togetherness in mind. She'd imagined nights in the camper, or in their sleeping bags in the moonlight, and enough privacy so they could take care of each other's needs. It would be fun, they both thought, to talk over all the exciting and sometimes comical events of their swinging lives, until they'd worked each other to a fever pitch of sexuality.
Instead, they were stuck first with the kids in the camper and now, the four of them in one hotel room! Damn it all, she told herself, we've got to let go somehow! She almost wished she had the nerve to slip a sedative in the kids' cokes, to make sure they'd sleep through the night. But that wouldn't really be necessary, they could always go to the camper.
The waitress finally showed up with a tray load of food, the kids put down their comic books and the family talked as they ate. She noticed Max looking at his watch for the third or fourth time, and winked at him.
"It's eight o'clock already," she said. "Why don't we sit in the bar for a while after dinner? Give the kids a chance to get settled down and to sleep."
Good idea," he said. "Damn good idea, Helen." Sally and Tim looked at each other and didn't say anything. It was obvious to them they were supposed to go to bed early, to suit the convenience of their parents. But they were tired, and neither one really minded.
CHAPTER TWO
He couldn't get his mind off his cock. They perched on stools in the small bar and chatted with other hotel guests, and Max even downed a couple of straight tequilas. But it didn't help, nothing helped. He was achingly, endlessly horny. With the ease of long experience, he and Helen separated and became involved in conversation with different groups. The attraction for him, he realized helplessly, was a little Mexican-American girl named Rosalia. Too Young, the sensible part of his mind warned him. But her spare little figure and perky tits excited him tremendously.
The tequila-and what was wrong with one more?-made everything clear to him. The reason, the only reason, he'd been willing to give up the sex swap parties with their friends was his increasing boredom with the very over-abundance of female flesh. He'd begun to see past the big voluptuous breasts and rounded hips and drowningly huge cunts, to the extra rolls of fat and the wrinkles beginning on necks and bellies. Superprick, his wife called him, and Paul was even bigger in that department. But he sometimes wondered about the other husbands, more normally built. Didn't they get tired of mature vaginas once in a while?
Rosalia couldn't be more than sixteen, but the Mexicans were permissive about teenage drinkers-or even younger. Maybe they kept their own kids in control, but they didn't give a damn what the tourists did as long as they paid for it. Her parents had gone to bed; and she demurely accepted his offers of rum and coke, and didn't pull back when he drunkenly rubbed up against her.
"You're young enough to be my daughter," he leered at her.
"But I'm not your daughter," she returned provocatively.
Damn right, he wouldn't let Sally sit in a bar and be mauled by old sots like himself! He peered into the neckline of her loose blouse and was rewarded with a glimpse of the rise of her satiny tan breasts, widely separated, hanging like young but ripe fruit. She shrugged somehow, and her rosy little tits came into view. Goddamn, this kid was asking for it! Her nipples peaked and pushed against her blouse. No bra, of course.
"Older men are so - interesting," Rosalia murmured.
He put his hand on her knee, and somehow her skirt twitched upward just in time so he was fondling warm firm flesh instead of fabric. Shivers ran down his spine. This beautiful little girl really was going for him in a big way! He pulled his shoulders back and sucked his belly in. Forty years old, and he could still attract a pretty girl! Helen had remarked only yesterday that the streak of gray in his hair made him look distinguished, and since the child was so short, she couldn't see the place on top where the hair was thinning.
"Little girls are interesting, too," he said playfully. He shot a quick glance around; was he getting in trouble? But nobody seemed to pay the slightest attention. There was a lot of drinking and laughter and conversation. The tourists were comparing mileage driven that day, and complaining about the high price of gas, and the fact that the hotel rooms had no keys. Helen-he grinned to see it-was deep in conversation with a kid who looked about eighteen. Maybe she was on the same kick he was on!
Rosalia had surveyed the crowd too, and felt safe. She put her slim brown hand on his thigh, not his knee, his thigh! And when she squeezed it hotly, his cock stood up and saluted. He watched her watching the bulge in his pants, and licked his lips. She had a little smile on her face; it was obvious she knew what it was all about, and for once he didn't have to shuffle around to hide his hard-on.
Then she threw her head back, the black shiny hair bouncing, and drained her glass. "May I have another one, please?"
Max managed to force out the words to the bartender through a dry throat. The heat from her hand radiated throughout his body, and his huge prick stirred and pushed painfully against his fly. This was something like it! Even one night with a little darling like this should more than compensate for the lost swap parties. And he didn't think Helen would object, the way she almost drooled on the youngster she was talking to.
He caught snatches of her conversation as he lifted the shot glass. "... so you're Basque, how interesting," she cooed. And when the kid answered with a strong Mexican accent, he got the picture. He'd read in a guidebook that there were a lot of French and their descendants here.
The fiery liquid hit the back of his throat, and he gulped. He knew tequila was dynamite, but shit, he didn't have to drive any more that day, and it sure as hell wasn't affecting his potency! He turned back to Rosalia and discovered her fingers had inched upward, so they rubbed against the concealed yet obvious cockhead.
"You'd better be careful," he said thickly. "You don't want to tease a man like that. Not unless you mean it."
"But maybe I mean it." Her smile was the most alluring thing he'd seen in his whole life. Her pointed red tongue shot out and licked her soft lips.
"So do I," he whispered huskily.
"What you like?" she said softly. "Like to fuck, suck? Want Rosalia to take you around the world? You don't have to do anything, I do it all. Give you the best time you ever had."
He was stunned. His mind accepted her words and computed them, but his hungry cock wouldn't listen to reason. It swelled even more until he could barely manage to sit on the stool. But just the same, he had enough sense left to know the truth. He had to prove it, though. "How much?" he managed to say. She shrugged. "Depends on what you want. Not too much, for what you're getting. And a handsome man like you ..." She put her hand boldly right on top of his swollen cock, and he almost leaped through the ceiling.
"Goddamn it! How old are you, Rosalia?"
"What difference does it make?" She squeezed again, and his spine turned into a puddle of hot melted jelly. "If you want to know, you like little girls, right? Well, I'm fifteen."
He groaned. His hard-on died painfully, leaving a terrible ache in his groin. No way was he going to make it with a child prostitute! He was tempted, sure, he might never have a chance like this again. The thought of her immature pussy was like a stab wound to his gut. He could see it, feel it, almost taste it. But he knew with dismal certainty that he'd worry too much to enjoy it. A fifteen-year-old hooker-what might she not have? He remembered reading about kids in Hollywood, and other places, too, who'd do it for the price of a meal. But they all had venereal diseases, the statistics were frightening. His rational mind, what was left of it, told him he'd never have the guts to go through with it. Think how long he'd be cut off from any sex if he got VD! That alone was enough to cool him.
With a heartfelt groan, he lifted her hand from the place where his huge erection used to be. "Have another drink, kid," he said. "Or go find another john, if you want. Yeah, that's better, go peddle it someplace else. That's all she wrote, for me." He sighed heavily. "Give me a double, Pedro. Something to make me sleep."
Rosalia looked as if she might argue, and he turned his back on her. He heard her slip down from the stool, and get lost in the crowd. Goddamn, I hate myself, he thought. He tipped back the drink, funny how it hardly burned by this time, and followed it up with lemon and salt. He never could remember the order you were supposed to do it in, but what the shit. It all went to the same place.
Lost in self-pity, Max stumbled out the door. No use to spoil Helen's good time, if the kid wanted to tumble her, let him. He made his way through the jungle by moonlight, heading without thought for the outside door and the camper. He needed to be alone.
He'd gotten the rear door unlocked when a cold little hand slipped into his. His treacherous cock lurched even as he recognized his daughter through the drunken haze. The dear little girl, she'd come to comfort her daddy. If only Rosalia had been as pure and sweet as Sally!
"Hop inside, honey, you'll get a chill." He gave her a hand up the step. "What's the matter, couldn't sleep?"
"No. And Tim was snoring up a storm. I was just wandering around, Daddy, and I saw you and ... you looked so sad!" She was shivering in the night air. She wore thin pajamas and a robe, and her feet were bare. "Oooo, let me snuggle up, Daddy! You're so nice and warm!"
He sat on a bunk and lifted her into his lap. He could feel her shake with cold and wrapped his arms around her slim body. She smelled nice, like good soap and water, and for the first time he recollected Rosalia's heavy, musky perfume. It should have given him a clue-lots of things should have clued him in sooner. He just hadn't wanted to know. His hand slid under Sally's robe and tightened on her thin waist.
"What were you so blue about, Daddy?" She tilted her head back and looked at him. "Don't tell me, I mean you never would tell me, would you? You think I'm just a baby!"
"What are you talking about, Missy?" He used the baby name which she claimed she'd outgrown, afraid her friends would figure out it stood for Miss Mischief. But now she didn't seem to mind, because she planted a soft little kiss on his lips.
"You know," she said wisely. "You and Mom must... miss your friends. I see you trying to hide it all the time. I'm not a baby, I'm not!"
"Hide?" He was too drunk to follow the conversation; his mind was filled with maudlin memories of his little precious girl. He used to tickle her bottom when he changed her didie, and how she chuckled and smiled! She used to follow him to the bathroom in her long nightie, and perch on the closed toilet lid while he shaved. In fact, it was only a few years ago he'd begun to shut her out of the bathroom when he took a piss. He could still remember her big-eyed stare as his fat dick splashed its hot yellow pee into the bowl. What was it she used to say? Her sweet face solemn, her chubby fingers pointing. "Is that yours, Daddy? Is that yours?"
She brought him back to the present abruptly. "Yes, hide! Hide this!" And somehow she wiggled her little bottom until his aching hard-on was pinned between her ass cheeks. It felt so good, he groaned in pleasure. The warmth of her little buttocks penetrated through the layers of clothing, and seemed to clasp his swelling organ in a delicious grip.
"Hooooghhh," he moaned in spite of himself. "Honey, you don't know what you're doing!"
"Oh, Daddy, I love you!" she said. "But we never talk any more! When you shut the bathroom door on me, you shut me out of your life."
If she was having the same memories, he thought foggily, there must be something to it. He leaned against the upholstered back of the seat, simply unable to draw away from the exciting pressure on his sore penis. He felt her loosen his grip on her, and wanted to protest but before he could open his mouth, she'd reversed her position. She sat on his lap leaning into him, her beginning tits pushing against the thin silk and brushing his chest. Somehow, her thighs managed to clamp around the solid bulk of his enormous swollen cock. Her hands were on his head, holding him behind the ears.
"Daddy, can't we talk now? I just need to talk to you!" Her plaintive cry gave him a new guilt to think about.
"Of course, sweets, you can talk about anything you want!"
Sally's heart leaped with happiness. At last she had what she wanted! She had her father's attention, all of it. She had him alone, in a situation where they weren't likely to be interrupted. And best of all, she had the physical nearness she'd longed for. She'd felt so funny lately! She wanted to hug and kiss, but there was nobody to hug. This funny feeling in her belly deviled her all the time. She couldn't sleep at nights, and found her hands slipping in between her thighs to rub the spot that bugged her so.
Sometimes she was damp down there, and she didn't know what it meant-though some deep-seated wisdom seemed to tell her it was important. And if you couldn't talk to your Daddy, who could you talk to!
"Go on, Missy, tell the old man about it." Max experienced some release from tension just holding her so close. Oh, the pretty little loving girl! The precious sweet body rubbing up on him! He'd never do anything to hurt her, but neither could he refuse anything she asked of him.
"I don't know how to begin." She bit her lip, trying to see his face in the moonlight which filtered in the back window. "Dad, I get such funny feelings lately. Especially-well, right here! Right down here!" She took her father's hand and guided it, to slip between her flat belly and pajama pants. The elastic stretched as his fingers followed her lead, rubbing on the funny flap of flesh which particularly bothered her.
"Daddy, ohhhhhh! That feels so great!"
Okay, Max told himself, just keep your cool. Why the hell hadn't Helen explained all this to the kid? Her baby clit was upraised and firm, fatly pushing on his fingertips. He stroked it lightly, smiling to himself as he felt her quiver with pleasure. Between the tequila, his love for his daughter, and his own pushing cock, he didn't feel the least bit guilty now. So Missy was growing up! She needed to learn about her body, about boys and men, about sex and life. It made him feel good all over to know of the life of joyous sexuality ahead of her.
The only thing was, it took two to tango. He remembered the awkward, stupid boys who hung around Sally lately, some of them with long hair, all of them tongue-tied and shy or else fresh and obnoxious. The thought of some other male, boy or man, dipping into his treasure made him furious. A terrible image burst into his mind: his sweet innocent Sally, her slim legs and arms entangled with the bony hairy legs and arms of a pimple-faced boy. Or worse. A lecherous older man, a man like himself who'd been ready to fuck the daylights out of a fifteen-year-old as long as he thought she was innocent!
"Arrggghhh!" He ground his teeth in impotent jealousy of the nameless faceless ravisher of purity.
"Daddy! What's wrong? Why are you making that funny noise?" She peered at him in the semi-darkness, alarmed even though her hips had gone into an odd little back-and-forth dance on his lap. "Daddy, don't stop rubbing me, please!"
"Show 'em all," he mumbled. He could see it so clearly now. He had to arm her innocence, he had to satisfy her artless cravings and keep her safe from men. His fingers picked up their smooth stroking again, and slid farther under her bottom. Strange, how the miniature pussy could be designed just like a woman's and yet feel so different! Part of it was the lack of a bush, of course. Sally's fuzz barely tickled his fingertips. Was her pubic hair brown, he wondered, like her mother's? Sally was blonde, so was Tim; though Helen said she had been, too, as a child. All of a sudden his curiosity demanded he find the answer.
"Here," he grunted. "Get on your knees, honey, yes, that's right." He pulled at the elastic waistband of her pajama pants. "Don't get in a stew, sweets, Daddy is just going to do something else. That'll make you feel even better."
He pulled the pants off clumsily, and then positioned her again on her knees, facing him where he knelt on the camper floor. "Are you warm enough?" he asked anxiously, but if she answered, the words didn't register. He put his face close to her pussy and stared. God, how pink and smooth and perfect! The soft curls glinted in the moonlight; first they were gold, then brown. He couldn't tell, he'd need a better light. But right now, what he needed most he had. His tongue shot out, slapping against the rosy cunt lips wetly. He felt her jump and then tremble, leaning into him. Steadying her with his hands on her hips, he poked at her shiny clit with his tongue tip.
He'd had a thorough lesson-just as Helen did-in the many variations of standard anatomy, through their nakedly revealing sex parties. Before he'd never thought about it, at least as far as females were concerned. Boys, and sometimes men, eyed each other's genitals secretly in gym showers and at urinals. If one was bold enough to begin it, they'd compare lengths and make crude jokes about themselves. Now he was as anxious to explore and discover his child's hidden parts as had been to see her teeth come in straight, and to watch her blob of a baby nose turn into a delicate replica of her mother's.
As he'd expected smugly all along, the little girl was perfect. The pubic curls, brown or yellow, curled beguilingly over the fat pink rim of her labia. Her clitoris was delightful, especially as it came erect and poked out toward his tongue. No wonder the sweet baby had what she called funny feelings! He slid the hot wetness of his tongue along it, tasting her juices that seeped from her ragged inner hps, and thinking they .were sweet as honey.
"Go on, Daddy," she said fretfully. "You don't have to diagram it!"
He laughed and suggested she he down on her back. His hands pulled her knees apart. Ah, at last she was right in a beam of moonlight and he could see. Pale brown, definitely. He ran his hot pebbly tongue into her snatch, feeling the viscous inner flesh quiver. He was turning her on, all right, because the hot cream bubbled against his lips! And the way her little tail switched back and forth proved to him she was really excited; that made him very, very happy. She didn't need any other male when she had her own loving Daddy!
She began to shove her pelvis at him in little uncoordinated movements, gasping "Oh! Oh! Oh!" with each forward thrust. He felt his belt digging into his waist, and his still painful erection disturbing his concentration on her pleasure. Somehow, without stopping his hot tongue-lapping, he got the belt unbuckled, the fly unzippered and his pants dropped to his knees. Phew, that was better.
He pressed his tongue up toward the small indentation, the entrance to her womb and felt it give with elastic readiness. Not too much of that, he warned himself, and went back to her clit. His lips formed a tight circle around the bud of flesh and he sucked hard, at the same time flicking it with his tongue.
"Crimanently, Daddy!" she gasped. She was panting heavily, and her whole body was in constant motion. Her shoulders heaved, pressing against, the soft sleeping bag on the bunk. Her hips and pelvis described tight little circles. Her hands clutched the bag tightly. "I feel so peculiar!" She tried to catch her breath, and added, "But good-don't stop-it feels good!"
His hands moved over her body, stroking the belly that pooched out a little with her efforts, enclosing her little boobs and thumbing the tits, stroking her sides, tickling under her arms. He was lost in a mindless ecstasy, only vaguely conscious of his own heavily throbbing cock and tight balls. His tongue pushed and stroked, wetly slathering across her satiny warm slit, even reaching up between her buttocks for a moment, sliding down the warm crease of her ass. He just couldn't get enough of her! She was sweet and precious, beautiful and soft and warm, and she was all his!
Suddenly her little body stiffened, held on the trembling edge of orgasm while a rosy flush crept over her boobs and belly.
"Owwwwwww! Ooooooooo!" Her hips jerked convulsively, driving her wet trembling twat down on his face. "What's this?" she cried out loudly. "AHHHHHHHHH! EEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKK!"
He smiled into her wet pussy and kept on sucking as he felt the fluttering vibrations of her labia against his cream-wet mouth and nose and tongue. Jesus, what a great feeling! He was giving her this gorgeous orgasm that jolted through her and made her mewl and yelp so joyously!
Max sat down on the camper floor with a thump, suddenly aware that he was so screamingly horny, he thought he'd burst. If it were any other female in the world but his own daughter, he'd have his fat dong in her before she knew what happened. As it was, he wrapped his fingers around his aching meat and began to pump. He couldn't help what she might be thinking, he just had to get his rocks off! Right now!
"Poor Daddy," a soft little voice cooed. He felt his fingers being pried apart gently. 'Tell me what to do now, Daddy, tell me how to do it. I want to make you happy, too. Ohhhh, Daddy!"
CHAPTER THREE
Helen ran her hand lightly down the boy's leg, feeling the soft fuzz of hair, the smoothness of tanned skin, the firm long stretch of muscle underneath. Fourteen years old, and he'd decided a couple months ago to sleep in his underwear. His jockey shorts, to be exact. Let him do what he wants, Max said, laughing at her for being conventional. Fourteen, and now three inches taller than his mother, but still looking like a child to her loving eye.
The room was quiet in the moonlight. She ought to think where Sally could be, and Max, too, but she had to assume they were together. Sally was a sensible girl, she wouldn't be wandering around a strange Mexican town alone at night. Helen's mind was fuzzy with liquor or she might have been alarmed. And she had another problem besides being half-drunk. Problems, was the word. Her first and foremost area of concern was her condition of sexual frustration, not because she wanted it to be but because she couldn't help it. All evening in the bar, she'd had to switch from one foot to the other, or if she were sitting, from one ham to the other, trying to keep from rubbing her hot twat on the bar stool. Shit! Why wasn't Max here when she needed him? She was sure he hadn't gotten with that little Mexican hooker, because the damn child-whore was still in the bar, rubbing herself against one sucker after the other. So where was he?
She hadn't masturbated since she was a teenager, but it seemed she was back to the juvenile outlet. That Mexican, the one who looked as white as Tim, had gotten her even more charged up than usual. She'd really only started talking to him when she thought Max was about to take off with Rosalia. An I'll-show-him kind of thing, because it hurt her to be deserted for a teenager. Only it hadn't worked out exactly that way, because she'd gotten in a real sweat about the boy-Roberto. He was so young, his skin so soft and smooth, with the sheen of youth just like her own kids. He had enough English, he was easy to talk to, and obviously flattered to have the pretty gringo woman notice him.
The sex-swap parties had changed her, no doubt about it. A year ago, before they'd begun, she wouldn't have had the nerve to fix her eyes on the boy's crotch, even after she saw it begin to bulge out. God, a kid like that could probably go four, five times a night, maybe more! Well, she could still do it. He was waiting hopefully, though she hadn't promised. She had to check on her kids, she said; but she really expected Max would be here waiting for her. She'd lingered just long enough to let him know how she felt about his messing around with the little hooker.
So here she was-high but not dry. Oh, Jesus, no, not dry at all! Her cream seeped out constantly, because her cunt was so damn hot she could hardly stand it. Shit, she'd fuck the damn bedpost in another minute! Too bad Tim was her own son, because she could tell by his physical condition what kind of dream he was having. The swelling in his white shorts looked every bit as big to her as that Roberto's. And if her weren't her son, if she didn't have to face him in the morning, she'd crawl right in the double bed and pull up the sheet, and shove her stimulated titties into his face. And wrap her thighs around his waist while she played with his half-hard prick and got it nice and big and ready .. . Oh, shit!
She crawled on the other half, the empty half, of the bed and leaned on the headboard. It was cozier somehow, even though Tim was asleep, than getting into the other bed alone. She'd already dropped her pants on the chair, and now she slipped her nylon panties off, too, and tossed them on the floor. The cool air hitting her wet yearning pussy just about made her crazy. It wasn't coolness she wanted there, but hot male meat!
Her fingers separated the slickly wet folds of her labia and rubbed along her fat quaking clit. It would have been fun to play with that young Mexican stud, to teach him how to arouse her and eat her pussy, before that moved on to a grand finale of wild, furious fucking. She tried to imagine what young cock looked like, but after all, Max'd been twenty-seven when they married, and Helen a virgin. Until the swap parties, he'd been the only man she ever saw naked. About the time Tim got big enough to be aware of himself, she'd quit giving him baths, so she didn't know from her son either.
It'd be smooth and white, she decided. Probably very pretty. She looked across the bed and saw Tim's fly gave way under the pressure of his swelling dick. Yes, just like that! Not as big as a man's and, well, smoother. Paler. She could see the red nut pushing back the foreskin and a drop of jism gleaming. Yes, that's how it'd be with Roberto. And how would she look to him? She glanced down at her hands, now stroking and caressing and plunging into her cunt, and it was as if they weren't part of her at all, but belonged to an invisible lover.
To deepen the deception, she closed her eyes. A good swift hard fuck was what she needed, and she rammed three fingers in and out of her cunt, not worrying about the slurpy noises. That young stud at the bar would go out of his mind, the way her juicy inner walls closed on his penis and urged it to fuck faster. Her mind tried to pretend it was really happening, but reality kept penetrating even into her drink-fogged mind.
She squeezed her eyes tighter, screwing her face up with the intensity of her mood. Even his hands would be better than her own, because how could you pretend when you knew all the time ... no, it was getting better, His fingers were a little clumsy, but that was part of the charm. He worked them into her dribbling cunt stiffly, gaining confidence as the dream or fantasy took a stronger hold.
"Yess, yessss," she moaned. "That's the way, darling. Now kiss it, kiss Helen's pussy, please! Stick your big old fat tongue up my snatch, yeah!" Rocking, undulating with the strength of her need, she felt his warm breath on her inner thighs. Then his tongue moved in, carefully at first as if he were trying it out, not sure he'd like it. Then the rough" hot tongue began to stab, hitting the right place on the third try, slipping up into her steaming passage while his nose and chin smacked loudly on her bush and her ass-crease.
Of course she knew all the time what was happening; but if she kept her eyes closed, she wouldn't have to admit it, would she? At least-she could put off the horror of the truth until after she'd had her kicks! Because no matter what her mind and conscience tried to tell her, there was no force in the world which could peel her off that deliriously torturing tongue until she'd had at least one cum. Just one lousy little tiny orgasm, she pleaded silently.
Her son Tim continued plunging his face into the damp, odorous crotch, finding to his surprise that it was a very pleasant feeling. He never would have dreamed it, it sounded nasty when he'd heard talk about eating pussy. But something rippled through him, something dark and exciting. He knew that he'd blended into his mother's fantasy, that she kept her eyes closed so she wouldn't see it was her own son kissing and tonguing and sucking her in these intimate parts. But maybe, he thought, he was finally beginning to learn something, something he very much wanted to know.
"Darling, darling," she moaned, "suck my clit, yes, suck it hard!" She put her hands on his head and maneuvered him where she wanted him, so his mouth pressed hot and wet on her clitoris. She wouldn't let herself think about anything except the thrill at being touched and excited in the most sensitive part of her body.
"Ahhhhhh, urrrrroooffff!" She moaned. Her ass and labia contracted with her cum, as the sweet ripples spread through her. "My, but that's nice ... so nice, darling!"
She rubbed her thighs together, in happy release. But her pleasant languor didn't last long. She knew she had to open her eyes sooner or later, and she knew what she'd see. But before she forced herself to it, the boy crawled up alongside her. This was a golden opportunity for him and he meant to make the most of it. He wasn't sure exactly what he'd been doing down there, nor what the fat bump he'd been sucking on was for. A clit, she'd called it? One thing he did know about was boobs and in the last year, he'd spent a lot of time trying to get a good view of them-his mother's, or anyone's. His sister's little tits didn't impress him much, but Mom's knockers, now, that was something else!
He ran his fingers over the smooth flesh, feeling its inner fatness, its soft resilience. He shivered and explored happily, lightly running his fingertips over the soft yet pebbly circles around her nipples. She drew in a sharp breath when he fingered her tits, but a look at her face told him she liked it. He was fascinated as the pink buds came erect under his touch.
"Wow, look at that!" he cried.
Helen opened her eyes. "Tim," she said faintly. She couldn't think of another word to say.
"Gosh, Mom, they feel so good!" He was full of questions but he didn't know where to begin. "What is that bump down there, like a little dick? Is that where girls pee?" he asked naively.
She had to laugh. "No, no, honey! It's called a clitoris. It isn't for anything, really, except to feel good."
"No shit? Can I look again?"
"Uh, well, no. I don't think you'd better do that, honey." She blinked, trying to bring herself back to a sense of reality. What if Max-or Sally-walked in during that little session? And yet she felt so comfortable and relaxed, lying with her arms around her darling son, she didn't want to move. She stroked his arms and shoulders, enjoying the feel of his smooth warm body. Lulled by a more familiar maternal role, she felt him cling to her limply. It was very late. Any minute now, she'd brush her teeth and put on her nightie and go to sleep.
Tim shifted his hips, bringing his crotch under her hand, and without realizing what she was doing, she began to stroke his half-hard penis.
She'd done the same thing when he cried as a baby and this was merely an extension of her motherhood. The firm yet rubbery little prick lay in the curl of her palm, her fingers closing over the smooth white shaft. She stared dreamily into space while the organ grew fat and hard.
"Mom, you make me feel so good," Tim sighed.
She smiled, and then came to herself with a start. She knew she should quit, then, but she let her hand linger on the warm prick, pumping it gently. She could let go in a minute if the door opened, she told herself.
"This is a no-no, honey" she said archly.
"Aw, gosh, Mom, don't stop! Play with my cock, please! I'll hurt all night if you don't!"
She gave in to his boyish blackmail, reaching around him until he lay snugly in her arms. Her free hand slipped under the band of his shorts, and traced a warm path through the crease of his ass.
"Ohhh, just a sec!" The sturdy cotton hurt where it rubbed on his fat prick. He managed to slip his shorts down around an ankle, without really pulling loose from his mother's clinging arms. "There," Tim said with satisfaction, and put her hand back on his fat dick.
Dizzily, still half drunk and exhausted, Helen let him arrange it all. She knew what she was doing was wicked but she couldn't really see the harm in it. He was so sweet and tender, he was her own dear little boy! She pumped on his cock again, and discovered her other hand had flown to its warm nest between his buttocks. She trailed her fingers up and down, squeezing the limp soft testicles, touching the bare space between his legs, and back to the tight little hole of his anus. She tickled the bumpy surface and pressed on it gently.
"Yeah, yeah, Mom," he murmured.
Smiling at the satisfaction in his voice, she pushed harder on the puckered opening. His sphincter muscles relaxed, and she inched her finger deeper into his clinging hot asshole.
"Shee-itt!" The boy moaned and bucked, thrilled by the double play of his cock and his asshole. He felt excitement build on excitement, and knew he was close to cumming. Jerking off was nothing compared to this!
Helen looked down, and that was a mistake. Instead of the soft tiny penis she'd been imagining, her son had a respectable hard-on. It wasn't as big as a man's, but it certainly was longer and harder than she'd thought. Somehow that made everything different. And she'd almost been ready to put his cock in her mouth!
You could do that with a little kid, she thought muzzily, you could tease him and play with him,, even lick his little prick as a sort of game. But Tim's manhood was much too apparent. It would be-God, it'd be like incest!
In fact, she amended her thought, it would be incest.
She pulled her finger out of his ass, and flinched at the loud popping noise. It took all her will power to unclench her fingers from his surging penis, but she did it.
"MOM!" The boy was outraged.
"Oh, honey, this is getting too-I just can't!"
"You don't love me! You don't care how my peter hurts!" He looked at her, childishly appealing, tears pricking his eyes. She couldn't withstand the pleading gaze.
"All right, darling," she said wearily. "Just this once."
Her mouth was so full of saliva she could hardly swallow enough to talk. Helen always suspected her love of giving head was perverse and not very nice, but she'd let herself do it more than once, both with Max and at the swap parties. She looked at the throbbing silky-skinned organ, so perfect, so hot and firm-and gave way to the dark impulses.
She jammed her mouth down on his hot little dick, kissing and licking it, nibbling daintily at the shaft, working her way to the glistening ruby head. The pinhole on the crest oozed a pearly drop, simply irresistible! She lapped it up and the odd flavor stung her tongue, sending pangs of lust through her belly.
Damn it, she just had to have it, not just the measly taste, but a burning mouthful! Letting out a moan that was almost a groan, she slurped his stiff dick in her mouth and began sucking it greedily and blissfully. Her cunt contracted and her cream flowed as heavily as her saliva.
"Allllllll right!" Tim sank back against the pillows, almost crazy with delight. "Shee-it, Mom, you are something else!" He couldn't believe anything could possibly feel this great. He knew about blow-jobs, he'd heard the older boys brag about their girls going down on them. But, like eating pussy, it had sounded sort of funny to him. He'd wondered; what about the girl's teeth? It really seemed scarey to the boy. But now he began to see why it was so popular and why the guys raved about it. His mother's mouth was hot and wet, and she kept up a continual sucking which pulled and stretched his cock toward the back of her throat. This alone was delicious.
And in addition, her wickedly fast tongue moved from sensitive spot to spot, keeping him in a frenzy of pleasure. His hips moved without conscious volition, bucking against her, feeding his cock stiffly into her mouth. Best of all, the harder he jabbed, the faster and more exciting her mouth and tongue!
"Mmmmmmmmmmmm!" Helen felt a small explosion in her cunt and knew with surprised glee that she'd cum again, just from sucking him off! Her own joyous response made her determined to give her son just as much pleasure, and she reached again for his ass. Cramming her finger up his anus, so he jerked and squealed, she also felt his small balls plumping up tightly. He was ready to cum, the darling! Knowing it made her saliva flow hot and freely around his jerking rod. Oh yes, she'd make him happy!
"Ooooooff! Hahhhhhhh!" Tim felt as if he'd been kicked in the stomach but oddly, it was a marvelous feeling. He squealed in delicious agony as the hot mouth continued to suck, draining each last sizzling drop from his spurting prick. He writhed blissfully until it was over, and his limp penis slipped over her lips.
Helen laid her head on his sweat-damp belly. She'd done something awful, she knew, but it was too late to worry about it. "Awful, awful," she mumbled, but her mind said-awfully good!
CHAPTER FOUR
Sweet Jesus, what have I done?
Max looked down at his twelve-year-old daughter, lying across his lap. Her rosebud mouth was stretched as far as it would go, stretched around the painfully huge erection. His tequila haze descended on him for moments at a time, and then he would manage to blink himself back to some kind of sobriety. And when he did-oh, when he did-oh, when he did!-he wished the blackness would come back and swallow him up!
Her eyes were heavy with sleep, and her hands and mouth slackened. Poor little dumpling, she was trying so hard to stay awake and-how had she put it?-make her Daddy happy. His heart filled with love, overflowed with it. Ignoring his throbbing penis, he pulled away and picked her up gently. His fingers were clumsy as he buttoned her back into her pajamas and robe, but eventually it was done. Cradling her carefully in his arms, he carried Sally back to the hotel.
He shoved the room door open with his foot, remembering as he did so that none of the rooms had keys. What was it the bartender said, some sort of joke? Yeah, he said if there weren't any keys to the territorial prison on the hill, why should a hotel need them? Some excuse. Anyhow, he'd gotten her back and lowered her into bed beside her mother. He sniffed the air warily. It must be his own sweat and sexuality he smelled. His hard-on died as he eased quietly into bed next to his son. Even the ache in his groin couldn't keep him awake long.
Max's hangover gave him an excuse for his quiet mood in the morning, and he didn't notice that the other members of the family were also subdued. Over breakfast, they discussed their plans for the day.
"Will you take me for a walk along the river, Daddy?" Her innocent brown eyes were fixed on his face, and he had to look away. He needed time to think things over.
"Didn't anybody notice the sun's out?" He tried to be hearty and jolly, but his hand shook as he lifted the coffee cup. "Why don't we drive south a ways and find a camping spot? How about it, Helen? Sound okay to you?"
She nodded morosely. She was all for moving on, or as she thought of it, getting away from the scene of the crime.
Sally pouted. She hoped to stay at the hotel and get her father alone again, when she wasn't so tired. She figured it would be easier to do here than on an isolated beach. But when they talked it over, Tim cheerfully voted against her. He wanted a return engagement as much as she did, but being a boy, he hadn't worked out all the angles yet. "That's what we came for, isn't it?" he said. "To camp out?"
They found the perfect beach within an hour's drive. A row of cabanas were flanked by campers and trailers of every size and style, but Tim's bright eyes spotted one which was isolated at the end of the beach. "I know why," Max said. "Nobody else wanted to drive through that ravine."
"You can make it, Daddy!"
And he did, though he hated to think of driving out again, over the loose sand. But it was perfect, he had to admit. Both the ravine and a slight rise of ground gave them as much privacy as if they had their own beach. Sally and her mother prepared lunch, while Max and Tim spread the ground sheets and sleeping bags.
Sally was nothing if not persistent. "Come on, Daddy, let's go exploring!" Her eyes danced and she smiled beguilingly.
"No way!" He tried to make a joke out of it. "Your mother and I are going to nurse our hangovers right here! You kids can go get acquainted with the other campers, if you want to."
He didn't really relish time alone with Helen, with his uneasy conscience, so it was a relief to see her settle down for a nap. Max was disgusted to find he was just as homy as ever, and he wished his body would give him some peace. The only thing to do, he decided, was take a walk in the other direction. He'd find some privacy, maybe even go in the water, but jerk off somehow, some where.
The sound of the waves on the sand calmed him.
Somewhere, he'd taken a wrong turn. Maybe it all went back to the sex parties. He remembered how his voice trembled and his heart pounded when he'd first suggested it to Helen. He'd been afraid she wouldn't agree; and then, in a funny way, he was disappointed when she did. It hurt his pride and made him wonder if he hadn't been a satisfactory husband. But he had to say, they'd both enjoyed it, and they'd lost a lot of old-fashioned inhibitions.
The one thing they'd been strong about was making sure the kids didn't know what their parents were up to. But now he began to suspect, Sally at least had a glimmering of an idea. She'd said something, he couldn't quite pinpoint it, but he knew she at least suspected.
The trouble was, he thought moodily, he didn't know, couldn't make up his mind, what he expected of himself or his family, either. In theory he was all for sex education, and honesty, and openness. But in practice .. . well, he wasn't sure he could handle it.
He found a nicely secluded cove and sank back in the shelter of a dune. Pulling his swim trunks down, he wrapped his fist around his stiff cock.
What a drag this was! He fondled the bulging scarlet head, remembering how Sally had done her best to stuff it in her mouth and suck it. The darling little girl, what did she know about sex? He pumped the long white shaft, rubbing the cream-oozing glans, picturing his daughter playing with it, sucking it, licking it like an outsize ice cream cone. He'd have to show her how to hold it, how to tickle his nuts, and poke the tip of her tongue into the seeping eye. He saw her smiling, shrugging her slim shoulders until her perky tits bounced, and he reached for them, and ... panting heavily, Max lost himself in unbelievably erotic, incestuous dreams.
"I cut my hand on a shell, Mom. Would you put a Bandaid on it?" Tim was afraid his excuse was too transparent; surely his mother would tell him to go do it himself. But to his hidden delight, she got up from the beach and followed him into the camper.
Of course he had to go through with it, letting her pour alcohol on it and wrapping the bandage around the thin cut. "Sally found some girls to talk to, but there isn't anyone my age," he said, biding his time.
When Helen turned to put the bandages back, her arms lifted to reach the upper cupboard, he pounced.
"Gotcha, Mom!" he said playfully, reaching around and cupping big handfuls of plump breasts. He was so close to her warmth, he could rub his crotch suggestively against her bottom. "Ummmmmmmmm," he murmured, nuzzling her neck, "you smell so good, Mom!"
Helen couldn't move for a moment. She'd been calm, almost icily so, until he touched her-and then her senses flamed with an intensity which scared her. "No, no," she said weakly. Then, as Tim pulled her even tighter and slipped his hand inside her halter, she tried to pull her thoughts together and ignore her busily creaming cunt.
"Let go, honey," she said, tugging at his wrists. When she turned to face him, she was determined, and the sight of his boyish face gave her strength. She knew whatever already happened would never have taken place if she'd been looking into his clear brown eyes, as she was now.
"Aw gee, Mom! Let's have some fun! Dad's gone and Sally won't be back for hours and-" He grabbed for her hips.
"No, Timmy!" Her face was red with embarrassment. "Listen to me, son. What we did last night... well, it never should have happened. I'd been drinking, and, well, it was a terrible thing for me to do. It can't happen again. And I'm counting on you not to tell anyone, not anyone at all."
She felt like a heroine for making that speech while his hands were still drawing her hips forward, and his panting breath fanned her face.
"I don't think it was terrible," he said stubbornly. "And if you do it with other people, you and Dad both, I can't see why you can't do it with me, too!"
"Oooooof!" Shocked, she sat down on the bunk. "What do you-Tim, what do you mean?"
"You know what I mean! Those parties-" his hands were still on her, running up and down her hips and waist and under her arms. "You must think Sally and I are stupid!"
Dizzily, she leaned back on the pillows. Then something warned her she'd better sit upright, and keep to the subject. "Tim, regardless of all that. We'll talk about the parties later. But this is-with you and me, child and parent, it's against the law. It's called incest, don't you understand?"
"Phooey on those laws! Nobody can convince me it's wrong to kiss you like this." He planted his hps on hers and forced his tongue between her teeth. He wanted to keep the conversation away from the swap parties for two reasons: first, because he resented his mother's involvement with other men, and second, in order to avoid telling her the truth. He wasn't proud of having spied on his parents and their friends. It seemed now like a sneaky kind of thing to do. The temptation had been overwhelming, though they hadn't really seen everything. Even now it made him shiver to remember as much as they did see.
He and Sally hardly knew how or why they noticed something different about their parents on those nights. There was an air of suppressed excitement permeating the house. Mom took forever getting ready, soaking in the tub, spraying on perfume, fixing her nails. And Dad bounced around like a kid, trying to hurry her up.
They had to wait until the party was held at their own house. The kids were all sent to the movies, and then were supposed to spend the night with friends. Halfway through the show, Sally turned to her brother. Her eyes glittered. "Let's go home for a few minutes," she whispered. He understood immediately and nodded yes. They both knew where to crawl through the shrubbery by the family room, the one spot the draperies didn't quite meet.
Helen pushed him back roughly. "How could you know?" she demanded. "Tell me the truth!"
He blushed and lowered his head. "We sneaked back one time when we were supposed to be at the movies. We peeked in the family room." He gulped, hoping she wouldn't ask him any more. He could still remember the sick excitement he'd felt, at the sight of his best friend's mother, stark naked on her hands and knees, with a neighbor over her plump back, fucking her like a dog.
"Oh, Lordie," she sighed. "I don't know what to say to you, honey, at your age. Your father and I... well, we believe in sexual freedom, and we wanted to try it. You can't understand how-no, you can't understand that. It didn't interfere with our marriage or our love for each other, believe me. And now we've given,it up, anyway." Damn it, she thought, these kids are not going to make me feel guilty! We did it, we enjoyed it, we weren't cheating on each other. How can you explain to a kid that marriages can go stale? That a woman who married as a virgin would want to see what other men look like, and act like, before she's too old to care?
"Anyhow," she said, coming back to the present, "The one has nothing to do with the other. Incest-"
"Incest is just a word, Mom."
"Yes, and cheating's another word. Your father wouldn't like this at all. I've never gone behind his back." '
"Shit! You've got an argument for everything!"
Tim turned around and stomped out. Helen let herself slump back on the bunk, her mind whirling. Maybe they were wrong to quit the swinging group. Her body cried out for sexual involvement and she was getting in over her head with her son. Max should have stayed sober last night, so they could get together in the camper. Come to think of it, where had he been?
Life was just too much sometimes, she thought. It'd seemed so simple when she met Max. They'd made love on their second date and after that, she was simply Max's girl. She remembered their honeymoon, and the first couple years of the marriage. They still giggled about it, one time in particular, which seemed to sum up all the early years.
They'd had company for dinner, two other young couples. Helen was proud of her ability to put a nice dinner on the table, and Max poured the wine and urged second helpings on the guests. After dinner, the six of them talked and played Monopoly. It was only about nine o'clock when Max passed some play money to his bride, and their hands brushed. The contact was electric. Their eyes met in complete understanding; how long before their guests went home?
At eleven o'clock they stood in the doorway, carefully not touching while they heard the last of the goodbyes and the thank-you's. In fact, Max closed the door while one talkative wife was still saying what a good time she'd had.
As the door closed, they fell toward each other and toward the floor. Her hands raced to get rid of skirt, blouse, bra, panties; while Max's clothes simply seemed to disappear. It couldn't have taken a minute and a half before he was mounting her, his hard prick where it'd been longing to be, her inner walls wet and slick and grasping. He thumbed her tits and kissed them, and kissed her mouth, and rammed his cock in and out as hard as he could go. She bucked back at him, her slim satiny hips a blur of movement. They came quickly, explosively, and only then could they get away from the closed door, up off the floor into the bedroom, laughing at the longest two hours they'd ever known.
"Oh my," she sighed, her eyes misty.
The camper door banged open, and she looked up. She saw Max reach behind and lock it, then skin off his sweat shirt and trunks. His eyes were fixed on her. Hers were glued to the huge pole that bobbled in front of him. Her juices seeped out endlessly, and she trembled with excitement as she tossed her clothes aside. "I was just thinking," she whispered, "of that night in our first apartment."
"The Monopoly game?"
"Yes, how'd you know!" She arranged herself more comfortably on the top of the sleeping bag, and widened the vee of her legs. Her eyes shone with anticipation as he climbed on top of her.
He grinned. "Because I feel the same way right this minute." His pulsing fleshy rod slid between her labia, up into her tight steaming passage. "This was a long game, too," he said, and he began to fuck her.
CHAPTER FIVE
Everything looked brighter to Max the next morning. After a good sex session with Helen, a night spent under the stars and a couple of decent meals, he thought he could tackle anything. Anyhow, he hoped so. When he heard the news from her that the kids were on to their swinging parties, his first reaction had been to laugh. "Little devils," he said half admiringly. After all, they were growing up. The time for any sex education was now, before they grew any older.
But he agreed with Helen that Sally had to be talked to, and somehow be convinced that was what was perfectly okay for her parents was not at all okay for her and her teenage friends.
"Let's go for that walk today, honey," he said, turning to Sally and ruffling her hair playfully.
"Ohhh yesss!" She sighed and rolled her eyes at him. Grownups were sure hard to understand. She just knew her Daddy sympathized with her problem, hadn't he helped her the other night, getting rid of her funny feelings with his tongue and hands? Now they could continue as they started! She rubbed up against him as they headed down the beach.
It was a sparkling day, the waters of the Sea of Cortez a vivid blue, the shrimp boats sharply outlined against the protecting headland of the bay. Sally skipped along the beach collecting shells, while her father tried to formulate the words he would use. It wasn't going to be as easy as he thought, but there was no need to rush into it. Once the proper mood was established between them, perhaps Sally would ask questions and give him a lead on her thoughts.
"Let's rest here a minute," he said when they'd reached the sheltering dunes where he'd jerked off the day before.
"Okay. Daddy, I have to pee." She looked around doubtfully, not wanting to go over the hill into the rough underbrush.
"Go ahead," he said indulgently. "More privacy here than in the camp." The campground had one dirty, smelly two-holer, open to the sky, but they all preferred to find a quiet place outdoors.
"Hey, what are you doing?" he said.
"Too hot for this," she said, pulling her sweat shirt over her head. Underneath she wore a bikini swim suit, two little scraps of red cloth.
Max's cock began to stir. He'd never been able to understand why public beaches weren't scenes of mass rape, since the emergence of the bikini. Practically nothing covered, and the girls deliberately flaunting their sleek, near-naked bodies. He felt sorry for the boys and young men who had to watch, yet weren't supposed to touch. He sighed, thinking of his own Sally with the tops of her small boobs pushing out of the bra, her belly button flagrantly exposed, the rounds of her ass slashed only by a narrow piece of material.
She looked around once more, then tugged the bikini bottom down her slim tanned legs. Shit, she wasn't more than six feet away from him! He didn't want to look at her, but how could he help it? She was squatting, exposing her pooched-out pussy, as unconcerned as in the privacy of the bathroom at home. Fascinated, he waited for the gush of urine.
"... don't you think so, Daddy? Daddy! You're not listening!" She wriggled her hips as if to shake out the pee which refused to come.
"Ummm, what, Sally? What'd you say?" He turned half away to hide the bump in the front of his swim trunks.
"I just asked you if you and Mom were going to go on swinging and if you didn't think it was-Oh! There!" she exclaimed with satisfaction. A thin yellow stream shot from her pussy and puddled on the dusty ground. "Don't you have to go, too, Daddy? You look as if you do."
"Oh! Yeah, I guess I do." At least it gave him an excuse to turn away. He went to the far end of the sheltered spot and faced the dune. There was no way in the world he could piss, but maybe he could kill his erection somehow. Think about his job, about the left rear tire which looked soft-about anything, in fact, except her desirable little body.
"Oh, Daddy, it's so big!" He jumped, she was right at his elbow, her eyes wide. He crammed his cock back in, or tried to, but it wasn't working.
"Put your pants back on, Sally," he ordered gruffly, seeing her in nothing but the skimpy red top.
She ignored his words, her eyes growing still wider until he thought they'd pop out of her head. Helpless, he looked from her mesmerized face to his own rigid cock which seemed to swell until it filled his vision as well as hers. It stuck up in the air and out, like a bloated telephone pole, the blue veins as vivid as the waters of the gulf, the red-purple glans oozing cream. How could he expect her to ignore it, when he couldn't?
Her rosy lips drooped open, her tongue shot out to lick them. Max just didn't know what to do! He remembered her chubby hand reaching out to touch it when she was three. But she wasn't three any more. He began to realize fully what he hadn't wanted to admit before. Physically she was a grown woman, or as close as made no difference. Twelve-year-old boys-she was almost thirteen!-had sexual fantasies, if he remembered rightly, and he knew he did. And so did girls, evidently.
A memory flashed in his mind, something he hadn't thought of in years. There was a girl in his neighborhood, when he was a boy, who "did it." All the older boys said so. Now, in maturity, he realized there was a girl in every neighborhood who "did it" and initiated the boys. And he, Max, had been . .. what? Thirteen at the most, but with a head full of wild misinformation that came from grubby books passed from hand to hand, and the bragging lies of his contemporaries. He remembered finding the girl alone one evening, and how she listened to him and laughed. "Think you're pretty big, huh, kid?" She wouldn't let him fuck her, she got almost hysterical at the thought. He burned with resentment because she called him a baby, but she took pity on him finally, and sucked him off. He'd been terrified, seeing his precious little hard-on disappear into the lip-sticked loose mouth, but the hot thrills soon overcame the fear.
Yeah, twelve, almost thirteen, wasn't really that young. He came back to himself with a start. He could see her reaching for his enormous cock, and he turned quickly away. But there was no place to go, unless he plunged into the water, which was really too cold for swimming. He went down on his knees in the soft sand and tried again to stuff the huge erection into his swim trunks.
"Don't hide any more, Daddy!" Her little voice was plaintive. "Golly, I only want to see it!"
He felt a deep sympathy for her, remembering his own boyhood. Poor kid, she was homy as hell. When she got on her knees beside him, he could even see her shiny, rosy clit peeping out from her fuzzy snatch. The inside of her legs was stained with the warmth of her juices. The pungent delicious flavor seemed to linger on his tongue.
He wondered desperately if he should go down on her again. At least one of them would be put out of their misery. Oh, if she were any other little girl in the world! How he'd reach for her, throw her down on the warm sand, stick his big dong up where it belonged! Really, he was afraid to touch her because he might lose control.
While he agonized, Sally acted, or tried to. She threw one leg over his body, pushing him backwards.
"SALLY! QUIT IT!" he yelled.
"Oh, please, Daddy, please!" The frantic little girl begged him. She squatted right down over him, clumsily trying to push her creaming cunt down on his dick. The bulbous throbbing head shoved against her labia, barely separating the fat hps, lodging half an inch inside.
He wanted to laugh in a way, knowing the enormous organ couldn't possible fit in her tiny wet cunt mouth. Poor kid, she was doomed to frustration any way you looked at it. At the same time he wanted to grab her hips and shove, push the thick cudgel up inside. But he couldn't let her get away with this!
He grabbed her and lifted her off, saying, "Now, Sally, baby, please!"
"I just wanted to know how it felt," she moaned, "and it felt good! Why are you so mean to me, Daddy?"
She was on the verge of tears, and he cuddled her in his arms. "Sweets, you're just a little girl still, no way you could get my cock in you! Besides, you're my daughter! A girl can't do it with her father."
"I don't see why not," she sobbed in frustration. "Okay, okay, Dad, if you say so. But at least let me look at it. I won't try fucking again, I promise."
He couldn't say no at that point. He looked around making sure they were still alone. Shit, how could he ever explain this to Helen? She might possibly, in time, forgive him for the scene in the camper. He'd been drunk, he wasn't accountable. But this, never! Still he lay back and let Sally's hands creep over his aching penis. He groaned, thinking she didn't know how much she was asking of him.
Having gotten her way at least partially, Sally knelt next to him and stared with wet lips. She knew exactly what she was going to do next, and she didn't anticipate any problems with him. After all, hadn't he let her try the other night? She'd blamed herself ever since for falling asleep at the most exciting moment of her life.
Max closed his eyes against the sun. When he felt her hot wet tongue on his aching dick, he was as she'd expected, too worn out to argue any more. Besides, he thought indulgently, her mouth is as small as her pussy.
The sun flooded his body with warmth. He wondered idly what had become of his trunks, somewhere along the line he'd lost them. He let himself sink into the sheer physical comfort of the sunshine, the soft sand, the gently hypnotic tongue. She was licking it experimentally, from its base where the damp hairs caught in her teeth to the oozing thick head. He was drowsily satisfied to lie there and let her have her way.
Sally sprawled out in the sand next to him, leaning up on one elbow. She took a minute to untie her bikini top with a free hand, and, moved by a wicked impulse, rubbed her tits back and forth across the hot meat. It gave her such a funny tingle, a sharp sting of pleasure that made her little tits stand up perkily. She wrapped her hands around the fat organ, hardly able to make her fingers meet. Her tongue daintily probed at the tip, pushing the pinhole, scooping up the delicious semen which oozed from it.
Her father stirred, his hips moving back and forth, but he looked like he was falling asleep. She thought she'd lulled him into a more placid mood, and she went down on the pulsing hot cockhead, her pretty little mouth stretching.
"Sally! What-?" No use to ask what she was doing, he knew perfectly well. And damn it, he couldn't stop her now! Neither could he simply lie there on his back, unmoving. The blood was pulsing hotly, demandingly through his rigid, tingling hard-on.
"Ohhh, I give up," he groaned, promising himself to be gentle. After all, he'd done it once before. "Honey, do it like this."
He was too tall for her and it was awkward, but he managed to arrange their bodies side by side, face to crotch. Sally found it easier because she could use her back muscles, too, to slide up and down on his cock. Her little mouth and throat were crammed full, and for a moment she couldn't breathe. She lay very still, trying to relax, and soon found she could take more and more of the hot meat inside her salivating mouth. It bumped on the back of her throat and stretched her hps very wide, but it was the pleasantest sort of discomfort.
"Mmmrrrfff," she gurgled happily, feeling her father's warm breath on her curly pussy hairs. Then his tongue washed it warmly, slathering up and down the ragged pink slit.
Max found the tiny indentation, the entrance o her cunt, with the point of his tongue. Her juices bubbled out of it, stinging his taste buds. He wanted her to cum in a hurry, he had to have her cum in a hurry. Otherwise he'd be jamming that hot, frantic dick of his into her mouth so hard and painfully, she'd never want sex again. He couldn't forgive himself for hurting her, but he couldn't take too much more, either.
He tickled her sensitive vulva and then concentrated on her clit. If that didn't get her off, nothing would! Counting the seconds, knowing he was going to plunge into the gulf the minute she climaxed, cold water or not, he felt his testicles begin to tighten. She was sucking him greedily, sloppily, like a baby on the tit. Her juicy mouth had more power and suction than he'd thought possible. Gotta pull away, he told himself. Can't cum in her mouth!
He nibbled at her clit, desperately wanting to make her cum quickly, and heard her moan. It was a miracle to him she could get any sounds out of that crammed-full mouth! Then her hips bucked furiously, ramming her pussy against his face. He shivered in happy gratification, because he'd done it. She was cumming, shaking all over, her hips jerking, her hands digging into his ass. Her cream flooded his mouth and smeared over his nose and chin.
"Oh-oh! Oooooooffffff!" His own orgasm caught him by surprise. He forgot to pull back in the blinding pleasure that thundered through him. She was swallowing-she was SWALLOWING HIS CUM! He howled out his pleasure to the world, thrashing about in the flying sand. She sucked like a greedy puppy and he couldn't stop her, wouldn't have if he could.
"Ohhhhhh, Daddy," she said, finally falling back on the beach. "Ohhh, Daddy, that was super wonderful. Wasn't it? Wasn't it fun?"
And he had to say, "Yes, sweets, it was."
She curled up in his arms. He looked down at her pretty face, so sweet and innocent, yet stained by male semen. Her own father's semen.
What had he gotten himself into? Where do we go from here? And the practical answer was, right into the Sea of Cortez, icy cold or not. He could see them walking back to the camper, stained and smelly. Helen would take one look, one whiff, and- He shuddered.
They splashed themselves quickly, shivering and laughing, only knee deep with little wavelets smacking against their legs. Max began to feel better about it all. Cold water and common sense, that's what he needed.
They mopped themselves as dry as possible with their sweat shirts and sat in the sun until the goosebumps went away. Now is the time, Max said to himself. Now that I have, by whatever unfair trick, gained her confidence, I can talk to her.
His arm around her for warmth, he began. "Your mother tells me you and Tim have turned into peeping toms."
"That's not nice," she flashed. "How else are kids going to learn anything?"
"Okay, okay. But now I have to know what you saw, and what you thought about it. And we have to discuss it, because ... well, because you and Tim are too young yet for that sort of thing."
"Too young? That's all we hear! We're too old to be naughty, too young to have any fun." She was almost in tears again.
"All right, all right," he said placatingly. "Tell me about it." He was hoping they hadn't seen much. He could make a case for nudity without too much strain, if that was all.
"Ohhh, Daddy, it was so exciting! But we didn't really understand, you'll have to tell me." Her eyes shone, and the slim body cuddled nakedly in his arms grew warmer. Her breath quickening as she went on.
"Well, first, Joey's mother was down on the floor with Mr. Bronson. And she had her hand on his cock ... like this...."
Mesmerized, Max saw her little fingers curl around his limp, shriveled penis. As her grip tightened, blood surged into the treacherous organ. He was suddenly short of breath, his eyes were glazing, his heart pounded rapidly.
Omigawd, he thought, I've got to get out of here right now! Hauling her to her feet, he mumbled, "Not now, Sally, not now."
CHAPTER SIX
"... and then he just practically dragged me all the way back to the camper!" Sally said indignantly. "Sometimes Daddy just doesn't make sense!"
"Yeah, Mom, too." Tim considered what his sister had just told him, and it was somehow incomplete. Dad and Sally talked and "fooled around," whatever that meant. Then they went swimming and talked some more. Just when the conversation was most interesting, Pop blew his cool and dragged her back. He was sure she was leaving something out, but if he asked her direct, she'd deny it.
He didn't really care, of course, because he had so much on his mind. His balls ached, he felt frustrated and just plain lousy. He couldn't think of anything but sex. He'd been eyeing a couple little girls down the beach, but they didn't turn him on, they were just too damn childish. Still, one of them had a pretty good set of knockers. Of course if he laid a hand on her, she'd probably scream bloody murder. Well, it would all be Mom's fault if he did!
"And now he and Mom are drinking beer with those people and laughing it up! They don't care about us at all," Sally concluded gloomily.
"Come on, cheer up, kid. Let's look for shells."
They took a plastic bag and headed, without discussion, away from the other campers. Sally found a few shells, but her heart wasn't in it. Soon enough they came to the same sheltered nook where she'd had the heart-stopping experiences with her father, and just the sight of it made her desperately horny. She could just picture Dad standing there with his big thing poking out.
She shot a glance at her brother. She couldn't help wondering if Tim looked the same way as her father, if he had a bunch of hair down there and if his cock stuck out all purplish. Being the candid unafraid child that she was, she decided to find out.
"Tim? Tim, let's take our clothes off and, uh, swim."
"It's too cold, silly. Too late in the day."
"Sissy!" It had gotten chillier, that's why they'd both worn jeans and sweaters; but right in this sheltered pocket, the sun beat down warmly. "All right for you," she said childishly, "I'm going in anyway!"
She unbuttoned her sweater slowly, and threw it and her tee shirt on the dune. When she began to unzip her jeans, Tim realized she meant it. Okay, he could do anything she could do! And it did seem warmer now than he'd thought.
"Okay, okay. Last one in's a rotten egg!"
In spite of his challenge, they undressed slowly, sneaking quick glances at each other. He'd never had any particular curiosity about his sister's body, although he'd covertly noticed when she began growing boobs. But with his new knowledge of the female body, his curiosity had grown. Pretending to have trouble with a knot in his sneaker, he crouched down and peered at her sideways. Just a kid, was his first reaction. No more kick to this than having a shower at the Y.
Sally, too, was disappointed. When Tim finally got the stupid knot in his stupid tennie undone, and kicked the shoes off and dropped his pants, she expected to see an erect penis. Or at least to see something! But the little white worm dangling from her brother's crotch was a big letdown. He had hardly any hair, either, she thought critically.
Tim didn't really want to go in the chilly gulf, he discovered. If he fiddled around long enough, maybe she'd get cold, too. She hardly had any flesh on her little fanny at all, and then he could back out gracefully.
"I've gotta take a leak first," he said, looking around with a vague air.
"Right there," Sally giggled, pointing. "That's where I peed this morning."
He saw the trace of dampness and aimed his penis. "Weren't you with Dad?"
"Well, sure." She giggled again. "He tried to pee too, but he couldn't go." She watched her brother, realizing that his slim cock was not as small as she'd supposed. Would it get hard and fat like her Dad's? She went closer, near enough so a few warm drops splattered on her legs.
"Hey, watch out," he said angrily, still trying to puzzle it out. Did she pee in front of the Old Man? And did he take his dork out and wave it around in front of Sally?
"Ummmm, you really did have to go," she said, still watching thoughtfully. "Can you keep it hard afterwards? It looks a lot bigger when you're pissing."
While her brother's body and genitalia didn't turn her on at first, Sally began to get the now familiar warmth between her legs. It felt like something turning over in the pit of her belly, and then her little twat got moist and itchy. She wondered what he'd do if she reached out and grabbed his cock. Did boys his age like to play sex games? Sie didn't know. They whispered about it, and made jokes they wouldn't let her hear. So it was reasonable to suppose they liked some action, too.
"Keep it hard?" Tim gave a final nonchalant shake to his organ, eyeing his sister's slim body with more interest. "Sure, I can make it hard if I want to. What do you know about it, anyway? You're just a kid."
"I am not!" she said indignantly. "I can make it hard for you if you want me to! Should I do it, huh, Tim? Can I?"
He shrugged, still keeping his cool. "If you wanna, go ahead. I don't mind."
He didn't really believe it until his little sister dropped to her knees and grabbed his wilted penis, stroking it with a pleased look. She didn't really know how to make it hard, because her father just seemed to get an erection naturally. But she remembered how excited he'd gotten when she played with it and sucked it into her mouth.
"Ooohhh, it's niiiiiccce!" she cooed happily, admiring the slim white look of it, and perfection of the little wrinkled point at the end. A thin blue vein wriggled the length of the shaft. It really didn't look like a worm at all, it looked sweet and pretty and cuddly. She squinted underneath and discovered his testicles were equally, nice, rosy pink and delicately ridged, with just a faint fuzzing of hair.
Tim's knees trembled with excitement. He shuffled his feet farther apart for balance, and hoped desperately he'd get a good hard-on. He couldn't let his sister see him as anything but manly. Besides, it would be so much fun if... he didn't let himself finish the thought. Lust coiled in his belly and he felt his cock begin to stir. "See, he's getting hard already," he bragged.
The two pairs of brown eyes watched, Sally with her face so close she could feel the heat of his body. His penis began to swell fatly. It lifted off his thigh, stiffened slightly in the air, took two further short motions upward, stiffened still more, swelled slightly. Sally licked her lips as the visibly growing organ waved its blue crooked vein at her, and rose even higher.
"Gollleee!" she said in an awed voice. "You really do have a big one, Tim!" Not big like Dad's, she said silently, but plenty big enough for her at the moment. She was overcome with actually seeing it come erect and hard.
"What makes it do that, Tim? I never saw anything like it before!"
"I dunno," the boy answered. The strain of keeping cool and superior made his voice come out in a croak.
Both kids were making rapid mental reassessments of the situation, each other, and the possibilities. Tim wondered how far he dared to go with his sister, because she wasn't very old, and he didn't know how girls felt about things. Would she suck it? He'd have to approach the idea carefully. He could just about imagine the scene if she ran squealing to her mother, saying, "Tim wants me to put his thing in my mouth!" That would make the shit hit the fan, all right! On the other hand, he wanted to exploit the moment as far as he could without upsetting or hurting her.
Sally, the daredevil-yet-practical female, had leaped beyond him. A really marvelous idea had popped into her head. Dad said he couldn't fuck her-among other reasons-because she was too small down there. But you could turn that around and say it was because he was too big! Now Tim, on the other hand ... But would he? Or would he turn her down the way his father did, for mysterious reasons she couldn't understand? Her little cunt creamed heavily at the thought, her juices dripping onto the coarse sand.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained. She opened her mouth as wide as it would go and sucked his hard cock in juicily. It felt so good, ticklish on her tongue, wet at the end, where his semen leaked out. It was warm and yummy, and it seemed to swell right inside her mouth! She sucked noisily, even while her brother bent his knees and collapsed on the beach next to her.
"Holy shit!" Tim gasped. The dizzying pleasure took the stiffening out of his knees, he had to get down or fall down. He sank down next to her, moaning with the joy of the hot wet pressure around his stiff little dick.
"No aren't you something, Sally," he marveled. He was so thrilled, he wanted to do the same for her. Switching his body around, he leaned up on an elbow and parted her slim tanned thighs. Remembering how he'd gone down on his mother, he slurped his tongue wetly over Sally's pink fat labia. Her juices tingled pleasantly on his tongue. He found the soft triangle of her clitoris and fastened his lips around it. It wasn't as red as Mom's, just a pretty pink. It swelled fatly as he licked it.
Sally was ecstatic. The more he ate her, the more she wanted to eat him. The more frequently he ran his tongue over her clit, the more she sucked and ran her tongue over the scarlet head. When she couldn't stand it any more because the pleasure was so great, she stopped sucking him and then he would stop, too. She'd begin sucking him again, until it was his turn to stop and breathe heavily.
Even his panting breath excited her, warmly teasing her sensitive twat.
"Golly, Tim, isn't this fun?" she gasped during one brief interval of catching her breath. "I could suck you all day!"
"Shit yes," he said happily, and stuck his face again into that warm wet nest. He felt even freer than with his mother, and explored her mysterious snatch. His tongue found the small indentation, the mouth of her womb, and pressured it hotly. The little girl moaned and writhed when he did it, so he decided he'd found the right place. He remembered bis mother's finger in his ass, how good it'd felt, so he tried it with Sally. He pulled the taut little cheeks apart and slid a finger between, pushing on the tiny puckered hole.
"Oh! Tim, what are you doing?" she squealed.
"It's okay, just relax." His finger slid in as she obediently let her muscles loosen. He twirled the finger around, probing the humid, warm passage. Sally moaned deliriously, thrilled with the new pleasure.
"HAH! EEEEEE!" She let go of his cock suddenly and rolled in the sand, squealing and writhing. The finger in her asshole triggered her orgasm. Tim watched in fascination. She had a flush over her little tits and flat belly, as if she had measles. Her body vibrated with her spasms.
She settled back in a moment or two. "Your turn now, Tim," she promised. He patted her ass affectionately as she slipped his aching cock into her mouth again. What a girl! He angled her topmost leg higher and stared into her steamy depths. The hole to her cunt wasn't really visible, but when he prodded it with a finger, he could feel it. The flesh inside there was shiny and scarlet and ragged-looking. The invisible entrance not only took in his finger, but closed tightly around it. He couldn't push very far so he went back to licking and tonguing, seeing by her clit that she was excited again.
His balls tightened and sent urgent messages down the shaft of his dick to the swollen head. An instant later he could feel the hot charging of his overheated nuts, as his cock jerked in her mouth and began to spew out its steamy load.
"Shit, shit, I'm cumming!" he bellowed. "Ooooooohhhhhh! I'M COMMMMMMIIIIII-NNNNNNGGGGGG!" The climax thundered through him and it was twice as thrilling because he could feel her throat and mouth and tongue working on him all the time. She swallowed frantically, her cheeks hollowing and then puffing out, then hollowing again.
The two satisfied youngsters lay side by side in complete satisfaction. Sally let handfuls of sand dribble slowly through her fingers, onto her brother's tanned leg, liking the way the soft golden hairs separated the sand into grains.
"Wasn't that fun?" she yawned.
"Sure was." The best part, he thought, was they could do it together any time. He hadn't heard any of that crap from his sister about. .. what was the word again? Incest, or whatever. As he'd told his mother, it was only a word.
"You really know how to eat me," she said shyly.
"You aren't so bad yourself." He knew it wasn't the first time for Sally, any more than it was for him, but he didn't want to go into it. Let her keep her secrets; he'd keep his.
"Tim?" She raised up on an elbow. "Have you ever .. .you know, have you ever really done it?"
"Fucked, you mean?" He thought of lying, and decided not to. "No. I haven't even, uh, gotten in a girl's pants very often."
"Well, why don't we do it?"
"Hmmmmm. I dunno. Do you think we could?" The idea was certainly attractive, but he was a little frightened.
"Sure we can. Why not?" Then she looked at his limp organ and giggled. "I'd have to make you hard again first, if you could stand that!"
"I guess I could bear it," he grinned, thinking, why not? He'd never have a better opportunity. Of course it was only his sister, only little Sally, not like scoring with one of the girls at school. But don't knock it, he reminded himself. He'd have a lot better luck with the girls later, if he knew what he were doing.
Moving on her knees, Sally reached out eagerly for his limp prick. It was so exciting to watch it and feel it when it grew long and hard! The transformation gave her a feeling of adult power. She sucked his soft meat all the way inside her mouth. Just doing that made her all excited! She began to suck him hard and fast.
"Uhhhhhh!" Tim moaned, wriggling his body. Her mouth was so hot and wet and fleshy! He arched his back and pressed toward her. "You really can do it, Sal!"
The miracle happened again-his penis swelled and stretched deep into her throat. She felt her mouth fill with saliva and gurgled happily as she ran her tongue along the blue vein. She really liked the feeling of his hot meat in her mouth, the odd slightly salty taste, not as strong as her Dad's but still delicious. Yes, I could really do this all day, she thought dreamily. She stroked and petted his balls, feeling them grow full and tight, too. Men's bodies were really marvelous! She wrapped a hand around each testicle, molding them in her palms.
"That's the trick, Salr" he grinned. "Yeah, kiddo, play with me like that! Yeahhhh!"
Sally's slim body writhed like a snake. Her fuzzy snatch was damp and glistening with her secretions, and she rubbed her thighs together. The slippery movement only excited her more. But now was the time, and she pulled back so his throbbing prick plopped out of her mouth.
"Okay, Tim, let's fuck." Her breath came with a whistle and her eyes were glazing with lust. She turned over, crouching on elbows and knees, her slim body swaying. Her little tits poked out from her chest, their nipples pinkly extended.
He stared at her for a second, confused at what she was doing. Then he remembered: the time when they peeked at the swap party, the man had mounted the woman from behind, dog-fashion. It would have made him laugh, except for hurting his sister's feelings, and but for the lust that thickened his throat.
Tim had at least a small bit of knowledge of human sexuality. He'd seen the pictures the kids passed from hand to hand, and he'd even managed to sneak into an adult movie one time. Of course the usher discovered him and threw him out, but not before his ideas were confirmed. The man went on top, most of the time. The coupling he and Sally saw was weird and perverse, he was sure of that. In fact, it was what had been the most exciting in the scene. But he didn't think he could cope with that first time. Looking between his sister's legs, he could see her pussy but the angle looked impossible.
"Not that way, honey," he said kindly. Repositioning her on her back, he started to explain. "This is the way most people-oh, hell. I'll show you." He couldn't go into any long explanation with his dong swaying in front of him, bobbing up against his belly.
Sally didn't care, as long as they did it they could be standing on their heads. She stretched her legs wide, while he squatted in between them. Tim placed the scarlet head of his cock in what he hoped was the right position. It was awkward and he stared a moment, baffled. Then with a smile he swung his sister's legs up on his shoulders. He'd fit in much better that way.
"Oh, Tim, are we really going to do it?" she sighed happily.
"We sure as shit are," he answered, hoping to make it come true. Damn it, he just had to do it, and do it right!
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Come on, Tim, do it! Put your cock inside me!" Sally said impatiently.
"I'm doing it, I'm doing it!" He had it poised at the right spot and hunched forward. The round head plowed in a short distance and stopped, smack up against a mysterious barrier.
"Hey, what's that?" He was shivering with excitement and frustration. He pulled out and pushed in again, and was stopped dead at the same place. "It just won't go in! You're too tiny, I guess." He sighed unhappily.
"Oh!" Sally's hands flew to her mouth. "I forgot, they told us all about it in hygiene class. There's a-whatchamacallit-a hymen! It's a kind of membrane in there." She giggled. "The teacher told us to be very careful not to break it, or some stuff like that."
Now Tim remembered, too. It was there to prove his sister was a virgin, and if he were a nicer guy, he'd quit right then and let her continue to be one. Only, his cock was so hot and tight, his balls so superfull! "I'll have to break it," he warned her.
"Yeah, so do it," she urged. "You push down, Tim, and I'll push back. Ready? One, two, three-GO!"
Re rammed forward with all his young strength, even though it squeezed and pinched his tender meat. At the same time Sally slammed her pussy forward, using her whole body, scrabbling at the sand with her hands for purchase. Something gave way.
"Owwwwwww!" Sally roared. A quick,.sharp pain stabbed through her.
To Tim, it was the release from pain, and a sudden burst of pleasure. He rolled his eyes skyward, savoring the way his cock was deliciously buried in her hot, tight, wet pussy passage. "Hot spit," he said happily.
Sally made a face and gritted her teeth. But the pain only lasted a second and she began to feel the glow from her cunt spreading out through her. Even her fingers and toes tingled with the novel pleasure. She could feel her narrow sheath relax around his hot meat, and the profusion of juices oiling his way.
"Wow, golleeee! It feels good already," she sighed. "Doesn't it, Tim? Doesn't it feel great?"
"Sure does," he laughed. "This is something like it, Sal." The sun shone brightly down, the waves lapped unendingly at the shore, a mild breeze curled around his head. He'd never felt better in his life.
He began to move experimentally, jabbing her with his stiff prick in the yielding sides of her vagina. Then he settled down into a straightaway fucking motion, more or less evenly tempoed. Sally was working hard, he saw-too hard. Her white teeth were clamped onto her lower lip, and her face looked serious and involved. But she picked up his movement, smacking back at him, her strong young back sending her surging forward so her clit made delicious contact with his pelvic bone. Then her mouth loosened and a wide happy smile crept over it.
"I could go on doing this all day," she said dreamily, and her brother laughed because that was what she said about everything. If Mom and Dad only knew, he thought, but his hard knot of anger at his mother dissolved and melted way. Dad would just about kill him though, if he knew he was fucking Sally....
But Max for a change didn't have his daughter on his mind. He'd gone into town for groceries and some booze, and once it was locked into the camper he decided to stop at the hotel for a quick drink. He couldn't get little Rosalia out of his mind, couldn't decide if he'd been smart or dumb. He didn't really think she'd be hanging around the bar, but if she did, and he could see her by daylight, maybe he'd know. It was entirely possible that she'd look a tired twenty-four, like a real hooker, cheap and tough. On the other hand, if she were still as young and desirable, as fresh and tiny as he'd thought, well... he patted the pocket where he carried his billfold. They weren't spending much when they camped out. Maybe he'd just invest in a little teenage cooze.
Rosalia wasn't there. He had a beer, and bought the bartender a drink. Then Pedro bought him one.
"But, senor, not cerveza, not beer-oh, no! Have you tried our own liqueur? It's called Damiana and it is very, very special. Sip it as you would a brandy."
The almost colorless liquid had a strange but interesting scent and flavor. It lingered on the tongue, but it was elusive, because he'd never tasted anything quite like it before.
"Let's have another one, Pedro. What's it made of?"
"A plant which only grows here in Baja, nowhere else in the entire world, senor! People believe it is a-how you say it? Afrodisiaco, you understand?"
"Aphrodisiac, sure. Gives you the hots, makes you sexy, right"
"Correcto!"
At least this was getting the conversation turned in the right direction. "Good thing I wasn't drinking it the other night when that Rosalia was here," he said casually.
"Ah, yes, what a pity she's left."
So that was that. But he had a few more drinks and got into an interesting conversation. Pedro told him that the local females were either good girls, in which case there was nothing doing, or else they were whores-no in between. "Not like the gringo ladies," he grinned. He had a few stories to tell about American women who visited expressly in order to "make the love" with almost any Mexican who could be dragged off to a bedroom. True or not, they were good tales to tell the boys when he got back to the shop.
But Pedro's favorite story, which Max wasn't sure he believed, was about the special treat laid on for sportsmen in the days before the road came this far. "There were no women, you understand, senor. But these rich men with their big fishing boats, they wanted some fun, anyhow."
For two hundred pesos, it seemed, a local man would sacrifice a large goose. "They fuck it in the part that lays the eggs, comprendes?" Pedro rolled his eyes and laughed. "The goose, she is very, very tight, and very warm!"
"No shit?"
"And for another two hundred pesos, they keel the goose!"
"Huh?"
"Yes, yessss! When the man, he is about cum, verdad? And the goose, when she dies... well, they tell me the spasms they are very exciting!"
Max thought about that for a while. When he left, a little drunk, he stopped by the liquor store and bought a bottle of brandy and two of the
Damiana liqueur. He found a thermos bottle top in the camper and poured in a healthy slug of brandy, and drove back to the beach with it balanced on the open glove compartment door. It was good brandy, it went down smoothly. He had a buzz on, and he had a hard-on, too. It felt good; he hoped to hell he could keep it and use it to some good. If the kids were swimming or playing ball, and Helen was alone, he'd get her to try the Damiana. He didn't want to wait until night, he wanted to fuck her right now. Give her a shooter or two of Damiana and see if it lived up to its reputation.
Helen was horny too, and irritated because Max stayed away so long. Damn him, he'd probably picked up on that little teenage whore and was having himself a ball!
The kids had disappeared, too. She walked down the line of campers, stopping now and again to exchange a few words with other Americans. Sally and Tim weren't anywhere in sight. She wasn't really worried, they were sensible kids, but it added to her irritation. They knew better than this, they knew they should check in and let her know where they were headed. Especially in a strange place, a foreign country. Her whole family was being extremely selfish and thoughtless, and her perpetual condition of horniness didn't help her mood.
They must have gone down the beach in the other direction, south. Maybe they were shelling again. She threaded her way back through the crowds of little kids and dogs, past all the other campers, past her own isolated cabana, toward the deserted stretch of beach.
She hoped to hell they were together. Tim was reliable; he was old enough to have a little freedom. But Sally was a different story. Her age, and she was a girl-Helen just hoped she'd find the kids together.
As a matter of fact, they were very much together.
"Now let's do it like Mrs. Watshername," Sally said eagerly. "You know, like dogs do it." She thought fucking was the most delightful new game two people could play. And they both won!
"Hey, kiddo," Tim said, laughing, "how's about a little rest period, huh?" He lay back on the sand and looked at her fondly. For a girl, for a sister, she was all right. But she'd just about drained him and he knew it'd be a while before he could get it up again.
"Oh, sure, Tim." She plopped down beside him, digging her toes in the sand. "This is the best vacation I ever, ever had."
Tim patted her hip. "Listen, kid, you've got goosebumps all over you. We'd better get dressed and head back before they send out a search party."
Sally yawned. "It is getting chilly," she admitted. "But Tim, we can do this again tomorrow, can't we? And the day after that, and the-"
"Yes, and the day after that," he interrupted. He pulled on his sweat shirt and began to hunt for his shorts and jeans.
Sally was just fastening the fly of her jeans when her mother came around the dune. Her hands flew to cover her little bare tits. She shot a glance at her brother, who with his back turned, was struggling into his pants. Sand flew as he shook a leg, and then drew the jeans on.
"Sally! Tim!" Helen gasped, not quite taking it all in. They must have been swimming, of course. But there were no swim suits, no towels. Most damning of all, there was no water on either of them. Sally's mop of hair had sand and bits of twigs in it, but not a trace of moisture.
She gulped, and said again: 'TIM!"
He wheeled around, and guilt was written on his face. "Oh, hi, Mom," he said lamely.
"WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING?"
Sally was frozen with shock. Her mother was furious-the child had never seen her so angry before. It was written on her face. She ignored Sally, but glared at her son as if she could kill him happily. Tim straightened up and stared defiantly back.
"Oh golly," Sally muttered. She was terrified, and all she could think of to do was run. Maybe Tim could handle Mom. In any case, she had to get out of there! She didn't feel the least bit guilty but she couldn't face the storm of her mother's anger. Forgetting she was only half dressed, she dodged around Helen and took to her heels. Sand spurted under her bare feet as she ran full speed toward the camp ground.
"Don't get so excited, Mom," Tim drawled. "You're making a big thing out of ... nothing."
"But what were you doing?"
He forgot his fear as he faced her, because she looked so pretty and desirable. In the first shock she'd gone white, but the color flooded back into her face. Her eyes sparkled with angry frustration. Her chest heaved, making her boobs push against her blouse and he could even see her nipples fluttering under the cloth.
"You're not wearing a bra, Mom," he marveled. It was just plain ridiculous, but in spite of his heavy sex scene with Sally, he was physically stirred again.
"Huh? Bra?" She looked down at herself, and turned even redder. "No, I'm not but-Tim! Don't change the subject!"
"I'm sorry, Mom, it's just that you look so pretty when you're mad." His eyes lingered on the curves of her breasts.
In spite of herself, she felt her anger melt away. She never had been able to resist her son, Max had told her time and again that she spoiled him. She'd always answered that it could not be hurting him, because look what a nice boy he was. Now she felt the same resistance tugging at her will, when he stepped closer and put out a hand to her blouse.
"I just can't help it, Mom, you've got such beautiful knockers," he said sincerely, his fingers closing around the warm resilient flesh. "Ummmmmmmmmm! They're so soft and pretty!"
"Now you stop it," she said, half laughing. "I want you to tell me exactly what you and your sister were up to. Have you been-Tim, look at me! Have you been messing around with her?"
"Uh, messing around? Yeah, I guess you could say so." He squeezed her boob and rubbed his thumb over a nipple. "If she gets tits like yours, Mom, a lot of guys are going to start messing around."
Helen felt helpless. She didn't know what to say to the kids, especially since they were aware of her own swinging activity. Her moral ground was shaky indeed, especially when she didn't have the strength to slap Tim's hand away.
"Listen, hon, Sally's still a little girl! You wouldn't do anything to hurt her, would you?"
"I sure wouldn't," he said fervently, thinking that his sister was far from hurt by what had occurred. "I promise you, Mom." He thought a minute and then added, "But you're not a little girl. We wouldn't hurt each other, would we?"
"Tim, Tim. I'm so confused," she moaned. Her legs were trembling with shock, and she sank to the beach. "But you and me, that's not the point. We were talking about Sally."
Tim sprawled beside her. He knew the worst was over, and if he didn't succeed in what he was trying to do, at least he'd managed to get her past the worst of her temper. His hand grasped her smooth thigh and slid up under her skirt.
"Damn it, Tim, cut that out! Did you already forget what I told you?"
"I didn't forget anything! I didn't forget how you look naked, and how I kissed your pussy, and how you sucked me off when I was so horny." He paused, wanting to put it just right. "You think it's easy for a kid? And if his own mother won't help him out..." He looked down pointedly at the bulge in his crotch.
He wanted to hint, very delicately, that there was no length a boy might go to if he were sexually frustrated, even to having sexual connection with his little sister. He didn't want to come right out and say it, and he wisely thought his mother didn't really want to hear it either.
Helen knew she'd been outsmarted. Damn, why couldn't she have had a stupid son instead of this-this teenage lawyer! She didn't want to think he'd been corrupting little Sally, she was not even going to let herself think it, and Tim knew it.
"I don't know," she said wearily. "Give me a hand up, Tim, and let's go back to the camper. I guess I'll have to talk to your father about all this."
Tim pulled her to her feet and forward, his hands sliding up under her skirt. Her skin was warm and silky, and he pushed his fingers under the bands of her panties. He knew she wouldn't speak to Dad-how could she? He felt the dampness spreading from her pussy and his dick gave a bound.
"Oh Mom," he said, "growing up is so hard!"
She moaned as he tightened his grip on her and rubbed her famished dripping pussy. She never could say no to Tim.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Max pulled the camper into position and looked around. If his family was across the ravine with the crowd, he wasn't about to chase them. Getting the big vehicle through the loose sand and across the dip took too much out of him. Besides, he was beginning to feel his drinks.
He decided to take a nap. He'd hardly gotten snuggled down into the bunk when the door opened. He looked up groggily.
"Hi, Sally. SALLY! Where are the rest of your clothes? What are you doing running around like that?"
"Sally, Sally, that's all I hear," she grumbled. "Move over, Dad, I'm cold." She slipped under the blanket with him.
He pulled her up to his chest, feeling her shiver. Whatever the problem, he couldn't keep his mind on it, he was far too sleepy. His eyelids dropped.
He was vaguely aware of his daughter wriggling around, out of the covers and then returning.
"Gotta go to sleep," he mumbled.
"That's okay, Daddy, I won't bother you," she said sweetly. Her throat was dry from running, and she'd spotted a tumbler of fragrant liquid standing by the bunk. It was the Damiana he'd poured for Helen. Sally tasted it. It burned and made a hot ball in her tummy, but she liked it. She kept on sipping until the glass was empty.
Max had stripped to his undershorts, along with pouring the potent liqueur, in anticipation of Helen's return. When he felt his daughter snuggle against his back, wrapping herself spoon-fashion around him, he thought gratefully that he was too tight and sleepy to become roused. All the same her warm belly on his back and her legs and tits pressed against him gave him a comfortable pleasure. He drifted off to sleep.
"Ouch!" he said moments later, looking up groggily. "That happens to be fastened to my chest, young lady!" She was pulling on tufts of chest hair.
"Sorry, Daddy," she said cheerfully. "Go back to sleep."
The sleep that washed over him was full of erotic dreams. The pretty little Rosalia was kneeling before him, telling him how much she loved his cock. She pumped the long white shaft and rubbed the cream-oozing glans. Her big black eyes rolled up at him, her eyelashes dark on her creamy olive skin. She licked her lips as she looked at his stiff-standing cock, and though she didn't say anything, he could read it on her face. She really loved his dick, wanted to play with .it, suck it, put out her tongue and taste it. His penis was rock hard, fully erect. The foreskin had become a roll of tissue around the base of the flaming scarlet head.
"You want to suck, fuck, go 'round the world?" she cooed in her lilting Spanish accent. "Whatever you want, I want, too."
Max moved luxuriously in his sleep, glad that he'd finally given in to the lascivious little girl. Somehow he knew he didn't have to pay her as other men did, she was doing this for love-love of his huge throbbing, hot uncircumcised cock.
His penis kept changing its angle, rising and falling slightly. Rosalia cupped his testes with one hand, grasping the shaft with the other. Her tongue darted out to taste it, to lick off the drop of semen standing on the tip.
She was such a tease! She tickled his balls, ran her tongue down the thick blue vein on the shaft, put her red pretty hps around his aching cockhead, and then pulled away, laughing.
"You want it," she whispered seductively. "You want Rosalia to suck your cock? How you say, give you head? Tell me, baby!"
"Yes! I want it," he mumbled. "You little cock teaser, do it to me!"
She laughed again, but her mouth was flooded with saliva so it burbled on her lips. She couldn't pretend any more, couldn't keep on teasing him. Her dripping mouth closed over his cock. Her fingers cupped his balls, one in the palm of each hand.
"Arrrrrrrggghhh," he growled.
A giggle and a childish voice penetrated his dreams. "You make such funny noises, Daddy!"
He came awake and discovered that his daughter was playing with his cock.
"Damn it, Sally! What are you doing?" It was an asinine question, he had to admit. What she was doing was holding his penis in one hand while she excited it with the other. She'd pulled back the wrinkled foreskin and exposed the sensitive head. Her fingers trailed over the eye, smearing slick dampness around. No wonder he had such sexy dreams!
"I just, uh, I feel safer holding onto you," she said plaintively. "But I'm sorry I woke you up."
Safer? His sozzled brain couldn't cope with that. He lay there quietly, not objecting when she ran her fingers over his hairy balls and planted wet kisses on the back of his neck. He'd gotten himself into this situation, it wasn't Sally's fault. And it did feel nice to have her petting his balls and cock, and snuggling up so warmly to his back.
It was all Helen's fault, he thought unreasonably. Why was she not here when he needed her? When he'd even gone to the trouble of getting the aphrodisiac liqueur and, his eyes went to the empty glass.
"Sally, there was a glassful here-"
"I drank it, Daddy. I was cold. It sure made me feel nice and warm, I like it! What is it?"
"Never mind," he thought resignedly. No wonder the little girl was so excited and uninhibited! Even if it really didn't turn you on, she wasn't used to drinking booze.
"See, I did it!" Sally chortled happily. "I made you all nice and hard, Dad!"
As if he didn't know it! He was in a state of full tumescence, just as he'd dreamed of being. But it wasn't any little black-eyed whore who'd done it, but his own sweet innocent daughter. Now he knew he should get up and make Sally get dressed, but oh Lord, it felt so good! Just for a minute, he told himself, while she ran her hands up and down the thickened staff.
"It's so big," she sighed. "Bigger than... I'd forgotten how big it got." He'd hear about her and Tim soon enough; she sensed this was not the time to tell him.
What Sally couldn't figure out was why grownups weren't fucking all the time. Of course they had to do things like go to work, and prepare meals, and so on. But how could Mom and Dad sit evening after evening watching some stupid television show, when they could be .enjoying this delightful pastime? Or even if they did watch TV, couldn't they be naked and in one chair, and playing with each other's bodies? It was one more unexplainable factor about becoming adult. In fact, when she considered it seriously, she wished she didn't have to grow up any more than she was, not if it meant acting proper and not holding each other while naked when you wanted to.
She was quite sure she'd want to, all the time. After all, she'd spent the whole afternoon making love with her brother, and here she was still hot and horny!
"What if your mother comes in," he said in a wishywashy kind of way.
"Ummmmm. She's somewhere with Tim." At least she hoped to God Tim was keeping her occupied, smoothing her down. He always did it so we.., she was happy to leave him to it.
Daddy was almost as excited as she was, maybe more. His dumb, grown-up attitude was weakening. She could feel his enormous organ twitch in her hands, so no matter what he said she knew what he really wanted to do.
And she wanted the same thing, and this time she meant to have it. She was sure her little cunt was stretched out to twice the size it'd been the day before. But she had no way of telling him about it, she'd simply have to demonstrate.
"Well, settle down and let me sleep," he grumbled. If he had any sense he'd throw her out of here, or get up himself and go out into the sane world, surround himself with other people. But his inner war, between what he thought he should do and what he really wanted to do, left him immobilized somewhere in the middle. His balls were ready to burst, his bloated cock was hot and throbbing. He wanted to ram it into her, to roll her over and force those delicate legs apart and separate the lips of her pussy with his fingers, and-but this was insanity! She was a virginal girl, not yet thirteen years old! She was his daughter,!
"I'm sorry, Daddy, to keep on bothering you. But I feel so funny again. You know, like I felt the other night?" When he didn't answer, she went on to explain helpfully. "Do you remember, Daddy, the night we stayed in the hotel? And you and I came out to the camper? I explained how I felt funny down here." She took his hand and twisted it back, and in between her legs.
Remorse swept over him. Of course he remembered even if he wished he could forget. She was suffering, she was horny, she didn't understand. Her little twat was hot and wet. Maybe he'd better play with her one more time, kiss her pussy, lick her little bud, so she could relax. It was no kind of final answer, but it was the best he could do for her at the moment.
"Poor little girl!" He turned on the narrow bunk and pulled the covers back. She'd wriggled out of her jeans, all she'd been wearing. He didn't have to spread her legs, she'd done it herself. Her lightly fuzzed pussy shoved itself onto his hand.
"Ohhhh, Daddy, that feels so good," she murmured as his hand stroked the inside of her fat pussy lips, and gently rubbed her clit. But she knew this wasn't enough, not any more. With a quick movement, she pulled away and reversed herself.
"It needs to be kissed," she said. "And besides, this time I want to make you feel better, too."
Max suspended thought when he smelled and felt the juicy young pussy on his face. His lips brushed against the tiny curls of her bush and his tongue flicked against the firm bud poking out of her slit. When she moaned her pleasure, he lapped harder, his tongue wiping the steamy entry and vibrating rapidly on her upraised clit.
She toyed with his cock, not ready yet to suck it. She'd already learned it was better sometimes to wait, to take turns, and at the same time keep her partner aroused. While his tongue snaked deliciously through her hot pink folds, hers slithered along the papery-skinned fat shaft of his cock. She mewled and jammed her face tight against him, trying to tell him wordlessly that she wanted more than she had. The little twitchings of her hips and fluttering of her labia were encouragement for him to penetrate her cunt, and her message got through.
Of course Max was confused. His tongue pushed at the small wet indentation just as it had before, but this time actually poked inside her steaming passage. He didn't have much time or inclination to think, but the thought passed through his mind that she'd been masturbating heavily. It was the only reason he could find for the openness of her cunt.
In any case, he probed her slick hole with his stiff tongue while she incited him on with quick little pelvic movements. It was fantastically exciting to discover his tongue plunging all the way to the roots, tightly captured and squeezed by her wet inner walls. He tongue-fucked her furiously, while she wrapped her legs around his throat in a stranglehold.
"Ahhhhhhh!" Sally yelped. "OWWWWWW!" Her immature body rocked and shook with the force of her orgasm, as she squealed happily and bounced her oozing snatch on his face.
He was still tonguing her, relieved and happy that he'd made her cum, hardly yet thinking of himself when she fastened her mouth around the hot heavy head of his cock and sucked it vigorously.
"Sally baby, oh, Sally," he groaned.
Lost in mindless lust, he began feeding his cock into her eager wet mouth, jabbing the soft tissues while her tongue curled and her busy mouth sucked. Sally grinned around his hot meat. Some deep feminine instinct told her this was the time, the moment she'd been waiting for. He was too far gone, she knew, to put up an argument. His body wouldn't let him pull away, or at least it would be slow-slow enough to be too late.
Like a slim wriggling fish in water, and as much in her own element as the fish, she pulled back from his cock. While he was stunned and gasping, she quickly straddled his body and pointed his bulbous cockhead up into her own avid cunt. Her hips twisted, her hands guided and in an instant she was sliding down his massive rigid pole.
"NO! SALLY, NO!" Seconds too late he was shouting at her. But even while he said no, his body was saying yes. He knew with a kind of joyous despair that it was no use fighting her any more. She was smiling at him, laughing even, though her face had a taut strained look.
"Holy shit!" Sally borrowed her brother's favorite phrase to describe the way she felt. She'd known his cock was big but she hadn't realized how big! She didn't want to admit she couldn't take it, or act afraid, but for several long breathless moments she thought she'd be split in two. Her cunt was thoroughly and completely stuffed, her belly pooched out, her pussy lips were spread and stretched to the utmost. All she could do was sit and gasp, hoping things would get better.
And they did, very quickly. Somehow her tight little womb accommodated itself to the huge invader. Her elastic flesh subsided from its painful aching and poured out a flood of lubricating fluids to oil the way. From the hot cockhead butting on her cervix to the thick shaft separating her labia, a wonderful tingling warmth grew and spread.
"Yeah, yeah," she moaned with hardly a grimace. She made a small tentative movement and found that she could raise up a little, and down again. Ecstasy stabbed through her.
His jaw dropping open, Max stared in astonishment. As yet he hadn't gone past shock and disbelief. His little virginal daughter? How was it possible? How was it possible? She was tight, she was sure as hell tight, but somehow she'd managed it. He'd have sworn she had a hymen but where was it?
"Be careful, sweets," he begged. "You'll hurt yourself.
She answered in a tiny voice. "It's all right, Dad. Just don't move too fast, okay?"
Max gawked at the slim little body, the high-set perky tits, the pretty but childish face. Wasn't this what he'd been wanting all along? His yen for Rosalia had only been a substitute for desires he was afraid to name. Talk about fantasies, this was one come true.
Moving in a blissful dream, Sally began to slide up and down on the enormous pole. When she bounced down, the effect on her cervix was like a hard but enjoyable blow. She was in a fever of excitement, tingling from head to toe.
The lust surging through him tried to tell Max he should throw her down, or at least on her side, so he could take charge and fuck into her as furiously as he wanted. But the knowledge that this was his precious little daughter stopped him. Instead, he told himself, he'd follow her lead. He wouldn't give in to the roaring animal inside his loins. His hands grabbed folds of the sleeping bag until his knuckles were white. Jesus, it was so heavenly, it was the best thing ever happened to him.
But he could, and did, reach for her slim body and pull it down on him. Her tits ground into his chest, and the sheen of sweat covering her body made them smack wetly together. He cradled her in his arms and covered her damp face with damper kisses. He let his hips move now in a slow controlled motion, his thick cudgel plowing wetly into her. He was delighted to feel her outer pussy lips flutter, tightening then unclenching. The little darling, she knew more by instinct than a lot of grown women did from experience!
It'd been a real surprise to him, during the swinging parties, to discover how little some women knew about fucking. Oh, they moved their asses, at least imitating the motion. But they had no idea, obviously, of the strengths and abilities of their vaginal walls, their outer pussy lips, their inner labia. Just as, or so Helen said, many men had to be shown how to fuck well enough to please a woman. Incredible to both of them, but true.
And here was his little darling, just so eager and so sexy, and she already knew on her first fuck what some women never did learn! He let his hot dick slide forward against the clamping pressure of her inner muscles, and sighed ecstatically when they loosened. It was like fucking up and down, and sideways at the same time!
Still holding to a steady beat, though somewhat quickened, he made sure she was at the right angle so his pelvic bone scraped sweetly and abrasively on her clit. Her body was so small and light, he could shift her position at will. And she seemed to sense his every movement and respond almost before he'd known what he was going to do.
It was pure delight, as easy and smooth and balanced as-he thought of really expert ballroom dancers, swooping and gliding and twirling, then-steps not the same but coming together in a miracle of timing and polished beauty. It was hard to realize this was the same little girl who went to scout meetings, and loved peanut butter sandwiches, and had to be reminded to pull up her bobby socks, or whatever they were called.
"Are you happy, darling?" he asked hoarsely.
"Daddy, daddy, it's just heaven!" Sally's voice was high and thready. "And Daddy, you can fuck me harder." She laughed, a kind of breathless chuckle. "I won't break, honest!"
So he speeded up both tempo and force, not to the full extent his powerful muscles could deliver, but enough to send hot flushes through him and make his heart beat faster.
She loved it, obviously. Her firm little ass delivered back each blow with delicious precision. She had an orgasm, and held still for a breathless moment, hanging there while he fucked into her lightly but rapidly. Then her caught breath came back and she slammed her pussy onto his supercharged cock with new and even wetter vigor.
"So ... nice," she panted. "So ... much ... fun!"
"Jesssusss, yes," he groaned.
He clutched her possessively, knowing he was on the trembling verge of cumming, and rained a tattoo of hard, quick blows into her. His ass muscles tightened, his balls drew up fatly and then his climax thundered over him.
"RRROOOFFF! ARRRGGGHHH!" he bellowed, thrashing wildly on the narrow bunk. Sally clung with both arms and both legs, feeling another delightful orgasm ripple through her. She pumped her ass wildly as the flood of hot jism spurted into her tight passage, and overflowed down her thighs and buttocks.
"Aren't you glad we did it?" she asked later, when she was nestled warmly against his sweaty slippery chest. "Aren't you glad, Daddy?"
"Uhhhuhhh." He added ruefully, "I shouldn't be, but goddamn it, I am!" He looked down at her rumpled hair and wondered what happened now. Where did you go, what did you do, once you'd fucked your tiny twelve-year-old daughter? He wished he knew the answers.
CHAPTER NINE
Tim was used to cajoling his mother and getting her out of bad moods. He knew she liked him to be a little bit fresh, to treat her not just as a floor-scrubber and cookie-baker but as a woman. Like many mothers and sons, a mild flirtation had developed between them long before any real physical involvement was ever dreamed of. There was nothing wrong in it, it was a way of getting along, of relating to each other.
Helen and Sally could be all female together, deep in a sewing project or exchanging glances and smiles over the foolishness of males. The flirtation was not meant to be any more than that; it was a way of giving Tim space to grow, of accepting him as a separate person, and a pleasing one.
And that's where it would have stayed, Helen thought dismally, if their lives had gone differently. She didn't like to admit it, but all the changes had happened as a result of the parties where they practiced sexual freedom.
Item number one in her moral breakdown was her new awareness of sexuality. She'd never so much as glanced at a male crotch before in her life, but now she had a habit of gauging everyone's sexual possibilities on the same level as personalities and intelligence.
Number two, she'd become accustomed to a large measure of sensuality, and it was habit-forming.
Three, she learned she could act out her fantasies, and it seemed perfectly natural to do so.
Oh, hell, she thought, this wasn't helping her in her little talk with Tim. The thoughts about herself which flashed through her mind were not the kind which could mean much to her son. At the moment, lying snuggled into a sand dune, half undressed, the warmth of his body radiating out to her all-too-willing flesh, she was hardly in a position to reason with him.
There was only one thing left for her to use and it was that oldest of feminine weapons: tears. The way she felt, emotionally unstrung, it was all too easy to let the salty drops run down her cheeks.
"Please, Tim, help me be strong," she pleaded. "Don't let me have to live with the thought that I seduced my own son."
"It isn't like that, Mom."
"Please, Tim, I'm begging you. My conscience will never give me peace again!"
"Bullshit!"
She was so surprised, the tears dried instantly and her coquettish look disappeared. She stared at him in astonishment. He wouldn't, couldn't talk to her this way!
Tim was mildly surprised himself. And it wasn't just the insistent throbbing of his half hard cock, nor the nearness of her enticing womanly body. It was just simply that... well, she was talking a lot of bullshit! He knew she was faking, and for the first time, he wasn't going to let her get away with it. Maybe his experiences with his sister had given him a new, more adult viewpoint, he didn't know.
He stood and took off his jeans. "Look at that, Mom, look at what you do to me!" His slim boyish cock jerked upward as he spoke, growing longer and fatter. The foreskin was drawn back over the red nut, which glistened with cream.
She couldn't help herself, not after that. His darling cock drew her like a magnet. Her hands clasped its warm living flesh and pumped, a thumb running lightly over the moist head. She went limp as he helped her take off the rest of her clothes, and pushed her back on the sand. A wild emotion filled her mind, a dark dangerous yearning.
She fell back against the dune while he bent over her, his smooth forehead knitted into a frown of concentration. He carefully fitted his cockhead into the moist folds of her labia, and then with an ecstatic sigh, fell forward on her. His hard young chest felt firm and thrilling against her soft billowy knockers. His hips ground into her, as his fat young cock glided into her swollen, slick cunt. Oh, God, if felt good, so good!
"Awwwww, Mom," he panted. His head was spinning with pleasure from the steamy pulpy womb closing around his stiff rod. He felt more manly than ever because he'd faced her and won, and that was half the pleasure.
Helen let the dark thought uncoil in her mind. It was true, as she'd expected. She could feel the pressure on her clit, where his firm pelvic bones pressed. And if she turned on her side, or got on top of him, she'd get more enjoyment, more that wonderful feeling of being crammed full of hot male meat. But there was another way, too, and she let herself realize only what she wanted to know: as it was, she could barely feel his dick in her cunt.
He lunged in and out easily-no wonder, she thought! Her capacious vagina could hold two immature pricks like this, with no strain! That was okay, let him get his penis thoroughly coated in her juices, thoroughly hot and involved in his boyish fucking.
"Wait a minute, Tim," she gasped, "What now?" He still suspected her of trickery.
"There's a better way. Let me up, honey, just for a minute. Honest, I'm not fooling you!" Breathing heavily, she turned on her hands and knees, presenting her plump white ass to him. "Get in me from behind now, honey. Hurry!"
This didn't look any better to Tim than it had with Sally, less, in fact, because there was a lot more of his mother to get around than his skinny little sister. But he crouched over her, willing to try. As he'd expected, his cock didn't come near to reaching her swampy hole! He fumbled around, spreading the cheeks of her ass but he still couldn't make it.
Helen was so impatient, she could hardly stand it. But suddenly she realized his problem. It was her fault, she hadn't really explained, partly because she hated to put it in words; she simply wanted it to happen!
"No, no, honey, put it in here!" She reached back and spread her ass cheeks again, this time running her own finger down the crease until it landed on the puckered brown hole of her anus.
Tim was stunned. His erection began to wilt. Sure, he remembered his mother putting her finger up his asshole, but his dick? He couldn't believe he was hearing right.
"Huh, Mom? I don't get it."
"Damn it! Put it in my ass, baby! Fuck me in the asshole!"
He stroked his wet prick through the crease until it got full and hard again, thinking how much he had yet to learn. Who would have dreamed it? And was that what the naked, middle-aged couple were doing on the floor of the family room? He still had his doubts but he was willing to give it a try.
Helen was wild with frustrated lust. Once she'd decided to give in to her perverse impulses, she just couldn't wait! She felt something bump at her asshole; if only she could open it wide as she could her cunt! But she did the best she could, relaxing the tight ring of muscle until the plump knob penetrated half an inch. She groaned as she felt the hot tight engorgement, and bucked back up against him.
"All the way, Timmy, all the way," she moaned.
Tim's fears and doubts dropped away the moment he felt the hot meat closing around his stiff dick. He grabbed her by the hips and bored in enthusiastically, finding it almost as easy to penetrate as his sister's vagina. And what a weird, wonderful feeling it was! His slim hips pumped frantically, as he worked his cock against the pulpy hot walls. It gripped him like a hand but no fist could ever be that steamily grasping and enclosing!
"Hey, Mom, hey," he said gleefully. "This is something else! Holy shit, it feels like it's sizzling!"
"Yeah, yeah, fuck me harder," she chanted. "Put it up my ass, all the way, great, good, I love it! Your sweet prick deep in my bunghole, keep it up, fuck me harder! Hammer it in!" She didn't really know what she was saying but burbled on mindlessly, moving her hips at blinding speed, the mounting pleasure involving all her senses.
Tim was dizzily thrilled, overcome not only by the sensuous pleasure of pounding into her backside, but by the perversity and novelty of it all. Leaning into her cushiony buttocks, he marveled at what he was learning. "Thought I knew it all," he panted as he speeded up the tempo.
His mother was nearly going crazy with pleasure, and her rapid back-bounce and skillful switching of her hips from side to side filled him with amazement. To think he was going to fuck her! He'd thought he was quite the man, until the authority of her sexual knowledge and ability brought him back to size. He loved the way she moaned, loved the lewd babble coming from her rosy lips, loved the way she bucked under him to get his cock deeper and deeper into her tight sheath.
"Gosh, Mom, you really like it!" He panted harder. "Really-like-to-fuck!"
"Yes yesyesyes," she wailed. "Love to fuck, oh yessss!"
He grabbed big handfuls of her ass, like firm, white marshmallows, he thought. He slammed in as hard and fast as he could, knowing it couldn't be hard enough or fast enough for her. It was like thinking you were a pretty good swimmer, and then racing against an Olympic contestant!
"Aaaaggggghhhhhh! Awwwwww!" She began to shake and yell, as a violent orgasm swept through her.
Tim felt as if his cock was caught in a velvet-lined mixing machine! Every little twitch of her plump buttocks shot right through him, tingling clear down to his toes. Her muscles screwed tightly around his still stiff penis and then relaxed, in a wild spasm of climax.
"Wanna stop?" he panted as she slowed.
"NO! NOOO!!!" she screamed. "Fuck harder!"
And he did, beating in like a piledriver until, his heart in his throat, he knew he'd reached the top. His intense muscular tension gave way as if he were falling off a cliff, mindlessly roaring down hill in a heart-wrenching cum.
"Now, now," he whispered, and then let go with a shout. "NOW-OWWWWWW! YIIIIIPPPPPEEEEESSSSS!" Her convulsing anal walls spasmed again while his hot semen splattered deep in her anus.
His last frantic lunge sent her sprawling in the sand, where she lay almost unconscious from the totality of her pleasure. He sprawled on top of her pneumatic body, feeling drained and dry-mouthed while his heart charged on like a freight train running down hill.
"Oh Mom, I can't even tell you," Tim said gratefully when he could talk again. He brushed grains of sand from her flushed face, and gently lifted her hair back. 'That was just so fucking fantastic!"
The tears in his mother's eyes this time were real, he knew. He felt the same way; all his circuits were overloaded and then gave way with an electrical display like the Fourth of July. Maybe that wasn't a good simile, he thought, but it was the best he could do to describe the incredible moments.
Helen rolled over with a sigh. "It's really cold now," she said. "And late. We'd better get back to the camper."
Without comment, she stuffed the rest of Sally's clothes in her pockets. She was much too tired to think about that, but it was a little nagging problem in the back of her mind.
They climbed the step into the camper, Helen first. They'd seen the light on inside, and assumed Max and Sally had come in out of the cold.
Helen was stiff and nervous. When Max said, "Where have you been?" she wouldn't know what to answer. But he didn't ask any questions. He was slumped on a bunk, looking sleepy. Sally sat at the dinette, wearing her hooded sweat shirt.
"Brought you back a present," Max smiled, pouring her a drink out of an unfamiliar bottle. "It's a liqueur made out of a local plant. They don't ship it out; this is the only place you'll ever have it."
She sipped and wrinkled her nose. "Interesting, isn't it?"
"Ummmhmmm. The plant only grows on Baja. By the way, hon, did you know about those funy-looMng cactuses? the ones that looked like they were growing upside down. They're called cirios or Boojum trees, and the one stretch of Baja is the only place in the world they've ever been found. There's over one hundred varieties of cactus here, and ..."
She stared at him. It wasn't like Max to babble on. She let his words pass in one ear and out the other while she considered various answers.
Somehow, he knew what she'd been up to with Tim. He didn't want to know, didn't want to handle the situation; was hoping she wouldn't force him to acknowledge it. Make sense? Sort of, she conceded, but not wholly.
How about this, then? He was getting it on with Rosalia in town, and had a guilty conscience. ...
"... expect to find oil here, maybe gold and silver, other metals. Since Mexico made Baja into a state, they hope ..."
Helen gulped her drink. The flavor was unlike anything she'd ever tasted, but very agreeable. She listened to Max, tuning in just long enough to make sure he was still at it. Yes, he'd gotten onto the history now. Missions and all that, Father Kino, was it? Never mind.
Something nudged delicately at her mind. The taste of the Damiana. The scent of a lemon room spray, with the aerosol can sitting on the table next to Sally's elbow. But it was neither of those, it was a heavy familiar scent that cloyed at her nostrils. Reminded her of the sex-swapping parties. She raised her head and looked around blankly. If she'd stopped to think about it, she'd never had done it. But she wasn't considering the implications, only the solving of a puzzle. Her wild lovemaking with Tim must have addled her senses, because she moved without thinking.
Helen leaned toward her husband, nostrils flaring, eyes widening. She sniffed audibly. Then she took a step toward the dinette table. Max stopped talking and his face turned red as she inhaled deeply.
"What's the matter, Helen? What are you doing?" he asked anxiously.
"I don't know." she looked around, still puzzled. "It sure as hell smells like-" She stopped, and blushed as red as Max. "I don't know," she mumbled. "Just my imagination, I guess."
Sally and Tim exchanged a quick glance and the shadow of a smile, but their parents looked down, away from each other. Two guilty consciences and two bursting secrets filled the room.
CHAPTER TEN
"He doesn't know anything at all," Tim said. "Hard to believe, but he doesn't."
"She is certainly beginning to suspect." Sally giggled. "If you could have seen Dad and me trying to air out the camper! Waving dish towels in the air, toward the windows! And spraying that stuff all over-yech!"
"Didn't do much good, did it," he grinned. "The look on her face! Dad and his travel book talk, and Mom sniffing like a blood hound!"
They laughed, but sobered quickly. The way they saw it, they had a problem. A family problem, but obviously it was going to be up to the two younger members to solve it.
"She knows you and I have been making it together," Tim said. "I as much as told her so. Then we get back and find you two sitting there so innocently. Only the place smells; it absolutely REEKS of sex! That was the first time I was sure you were balling Dad, Sal."
"Yeah, well, it was the first time I did! You know that!" The pert little girl giggled again. "You got my cherry, didn't you?"
"Ummmm-hmmm. But what are we gonna do now? Dad mopes around, he feels guilty as hell. So does Mom. But they're never ever going to admit anything, or accuse the other one. Shee-it! After all the years they've been married, wouldn't you think they could talk together?"
"We've got to do something. But what?" She looked anxiously at her brother. He was older, almost fifteen; surely he could come up with something.
"I dunno," Tim said thoughtfully. "If we were home where we had more privacy, it'd be easy. We'd get up early on Sunday morning and get in bed with them. You next to the old man, grabbing his dork. Me cuddling up to Mom, with my hand in her twat. By the time they got over the shock, it'd be all laid out."
"The vacation can't last forever," she said hopefully. "And now they want to drive farther south, I guess they're like running away from themselves, huh, Tim?"
"You're a smart little cookie," he said, looking at her fondly. "Don't worry, I'll think of something yet."
It was a tense, quiet and overly polite family which drove on. They stayed the first night in another crowded camp ground, sleeping out huddled into their four separate sleeping bags.
But the next afternoon, Max turned off the narrow highway and bumped down a sand-rutted path. He drew a deep breath. It was warm, the sun shone, the gulf should be warm enough for swimming. In any case they had an enormous expanse of beautiful beach all to themselves. The kids could run around and let off some steam, which should help the situation. He felt like bloody hell, down this far in a foreign country, with all the miles to go home, and this heaviness oppressing them all. He couldn't even get his own mind straight, in the circumstances. Some damn vacation!
They laid the ground sheet out in the shelter of the camper, spread the bags, fixed up a "kitchen" corner with the cooler and Coleman stove. There was still plenty of time before sunset for a swim, which did, as Max hoped, ease the tension, his own included. He managed to get enough exercise that, with the help of half a bottle of brandy, he was able to sleep.
Helen, too, felt unaccountably better. She wished they'd headed for home instead of farther away, but it hadn't seemed fair to the kids. She drank the other half, choking it down because anything was better than lying awake hating herself and trying not to think about Max and Sally.
The sun was barely a hint of blazing red on the flat grey ocean the next morning, when Tim slipped out of his bag. He tiptoed to his sister and eased down the zipper of the bedroll, slipping inside and closing it up again. Sally hardly realized she had company. She felt a delicious warmth surrounding her, and then something very nice happening. A wet mouth fastened on her tit and sucked sweetly.
"Wha-oh, Tim!" She yawned, feeling his leg driven between her thighs. "Hey, what a nice alarm clock you make!"
"Ssshhh!" he whispered.
"Oh, pooh! Can't we have any fun at all?" she said crossly.
"Sure we can, dummy!" He waited, but she merely snuggled closer to him, rubbing her pussy on his leg. "Come on, they could wake up any time!"
"Whadaya mean?"
"C'mon, wake up! Remember what I said we'd do if we were at home? On a Sunday morning?" When she nodded, he went on. "Well, let's see you get into Dad's sleeping bag right now, without making a fuss and waking Mom!"
The two stole out like burglars in the silent dawn. The beach was still deserted, nor could they be seen from the highway. Sally had a hard time suppressing her ready giggles. Her father lay on his back and he was snoring, with a bubbling sound at the end of each long drawn-out snore. But she controlled herself and tugged at the zipper tag.
"Mmmfff. Rrraaarrrkkk." Max mumbled in his sleep and tried to turn over, but pliant yielding flesh was in his way. Somehow she managed to get inside, and pull the zipper up again, and bury her next set of giggles in his neck.
Sally didn't waste any time. It was a tight fit but she insinuated her little hand between his legs and found the warm lump of flesh. Under her touch it began immediately to twitch and swell, attempting to rise and bumping her leg with its solid erection. What the heck did Tim expect her to do, she thought. They couldn't hump in here unless they were contortionists! But she'd do her best.
Tim in his planning knew there was no way his bigger body could share one sleeping bag with an adult. But lying awake, staring at the brilliance of the stars, he'd worked out a plan. He opened his own bag all the way, and carried it to his mother. He draped it partly over her, and partly over himself. Kneeling on the cold sand, he unzipped her bag. He managed to persuade her limpness over to the far side, while he climbed on it with her. The extra bag over the top kept them warm. It worked almost as well as he hoped.
Helen dreamed she was back at one of the sex parties, nakedly embracing somebody's husband. Funny, she couldn't see his face, but it felt good to have him run his tongue over her nipples, while his hands separated her fat hair-lined labia.
"Niccee," she murmured, and Tim grinned.
He switched around and gently spread her legs. His tongue lapped warmly at all her most delicate and sensitive places, her clit and labia and cunt mouth and anus. His hand pressed the length of the crease between her asscheeks, and then was replaced by bis face. His fingers stroked her pussy lips while his tongue probed hotly at her asshole.
"Ooooooo," she crooned, hardly knowing where the dream ended and reality began.
She reached for him, vaguely surprised that he'd shrunken so. While her drowsy mind tried to figure out who was the shortest man in the swap group, so she could put a face to the exciting body, her hands found his tumescent penis. She clasped it and pumped, stroked his dear testicles, missed the bush of hair she expected. And she woke up.
"Where am-what is this?" She blinked in the sudden dazzle of daylight, and looked around wildly. My God, what was she doing!
"Tim! Come out of there!"
He knew she meant it and came up smiling. "Nice way to wake up, isn't it, Mom?" He kept one hand between her legs, and the other one tweaking a nipple.
"Are you out of your mind?" she scolded. "Where are your father and Sally?"
"Turn your head that way, take a look."
It was the strangest sight she'd ever seen. The long shape of the sleeping bag, like a green caterpillar, seemed to be having convulsions. While they stared in fascination, it peaked high first here, then there. It humped across the beach aimlessly, now falling one way, now another. It bumped headfirst-if you could decide which was the head-into a wheel of the camper, and then spun away. Strange little muffled cries and squeals came from it.
Tim began to laugh, and after a moment so did Helen. She knew what she was seeing, but after all, it wasn't a complete surprise. She'd tried to guide events away from this moment of truth and exposure. But she hadn't succeeded, and so she let herself go. Sitting up, bundled in sleeping bags from the waist down but topless above, they laughed until tears came in her eyes.
"This is absolutely horrible," she said, wiping the tears away, still chuckling.
"Oh, shit, did you ever see anything so funny in your life?" Tim wondered if he should renew his attack on his mother's seductive body, in order to complete his plot. But he didn't think he'd succeed, for one thing. For another, he'd laughed himself right out of an erection.
"Are you mad, Mom?"
"I certainly should be," she said.
"But it would be hypocritical," he told her' solemnly.
"You and your big words! Listen, Einstein, you're so smart, get me my robe and put water on for coffee. Your dad's going to need it." She laughed again, eyes on the disjointed sleeping bag. "If Sally's anything like me, he's going to need a lot of coffee." She couldn't help the tone of pride in her voice. She knew they had plenty of problems ahead, but it seemed as if the worst was over.
She returned to the same thought half an hour later, when the family sat holding mugs of steaming coffee. Shamefaced but relieved, Max felt as if he'd just been given a pardon from a life sentence.
"At least it's all out in the open," he said.
"Yes, thanks to our smart-assed kids." But she smiled when she said it. "Listen, Max, I know we can't go backwards. Can't give Sally her cherry back."
"It wasn't me," Max said hastily. "I swear to God, I don't know who, but it wasn't me!"
Helen shook her head. "Even I could figure that out, you lunk! Who else but her loving brother!"
It took Max a while to recover from that. He discovered the strange pang he felt was jealousy; but as soon as he identified it, it faded away. Of course, why hadn't he guessed!
"Anyhow, let's call this meeting to order again," Helen said. "We've got to talk about what's happened____"
"Before breakfast?" Sally groaned.
"If you want breakfast, fix it!" she snapped. "With all the equality we've got going here-no, anarchy, is what it is!" And then she burst into tears.
The lads looked at each other. They were in high spirits, proud of themselves for forcing their parents to look at things the way they really were. And Helen had seemed to take it so well! It wasn't as if their father alone had been breaking the rules, because she'd done as much with Tim.
But Max understood. He put an arm around his wife and said, "It'll be all right, honey, you'll see. Nobody's blaming you. And we can handle it, like we've handled everything else. Together." He got her to her feet.
Turning to the youngsters, he said, "Fix yourselves something to eat, why don't you. Mom and I will be in the camper for a while."
When Helen said they couldn't go backwards, was when she began to realize she didn't know how to go forward either. They'd been brought up with a certain set of rules and beliefs. Puritanical, maybe, and out of date-but still a code to try and live by. Then, when they joined the swap group and enjoyed sexual freedom with their friends, they were still supported by the others. The fact that so many of their friends and neighbors were doing the same thing, and they all played by the same rules, made it easy. They had group support.
Now he and Helen were out in uncharted territory. They didn't know what to believe any more and it frightened her. He knew she'd get over it, because it was mostly her authority as a parent that was challenged, and her security in playing the role expected of her. Helen never yearned to be a pioneer.
Max knew just what would cheer her up. And he knew too, once she got past this particular moment, her own common sense would help her live happily with the new revelations.
"Lie down on the bunk," he said. While the tears ran down her face, he opened her robe and stroked her gently. "It's just nerves, he said soothingly. "Give it a little time."
Sally and Tim were too upset to eat. It seemed to them that the more they learned about their parents, the less they really knew them. After a whispered conference, they sneaked up to the side window of the camper and peered inside.
"Will you look at that," Tim marveled.
"Hasn't he got a big one, though," his little sister sighed.
Moans and frantic movements shook the camper. Helen lay on her back, writhing wildly. Her legs were spread wide, and her husband had his face pressed into the steamy vee of her crotch. The kids could tell that he was tonguing her furiously as his head bobbed and moved. His powerful naked body almost filled the narrow bunk. His cock looked as if it would burst its skin, the glans a deep red and shiny with jism. The enormous staff seemed to have a life of its own,, as it wobbled in front of him.
Some signal must have passed between them which the children failed to see. Their father raised his head, his face was smeared with her juices and he smiled in a twisted way. Growling fiercely, he threw himself on top of Helen's voluptuous body.
"Awwwwww," she mewled, "do it now, fuck me! Fuck me good!"
Max was tremendously happy. The contortions on his face were only from the strength of his swelling lust. He worked his rigid pole into her, loving the slick creamy slide of his cock up her vagina. Nobody could fuck like Helen, he thought ecstatically. It was a natural talent, and no wonder her little daughter had it too! He could feel her expert muscles clamp around his aching shaft, giving delicious hot pressure. He slipped his hands under her ass and pulled her pelvis up, tilting it toward him. Her legs splayed high and wide, one knee cocked so an ankle rested on his shoulder.
Wonderful Max, she thought. He knows exactly how I felt, and why my nerves were strained so tight. And he knew the perfect cure, too! She threw her arms around his surging, hard-working shoulders and bit him gently on the biceps. Joy swept through her as she gave herself up wholly to the powerful cock reaming out her needy cunt.
The kids were fascinated. They hardly felt the strain of standing on tiptoe in order to see through the high window. It was another new experience for them, to see adult lovemaking done out of commitment and powerful love. With every move of their bodies, their parents were showing the love they had for each other, the years of experience in knowing each other's pleasures and physical capacities, and the deep involvement they had in making the other one happy.
Neither Sally nor Tim could express what they felt, but they were impressed as never before with their parents as people, and with the stability of the marriage they'd always taken for granted.
"Hey, Sal," Tim nudged his sister. "You know what we'd better do?"
"No, what? Fuck for a little while, too?"
"No, you dummy!" He laughed. "We'd better get out the eggs and sausage and start cooking. Those two are going to be hungry enough to swallow it raw if we don't get hopping!"
"Right!" Awed but pleased with what she'd seen and felt, the little girl got out a skillet.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"Oooooo, I like that, Tim! I don't know why it feels good, but it does!" Sally looked up at her brother's flushed face, framed against the brilliance of the stars. She wriggled ecstatically as he continued to ram his thumb in her anus.
He flicked his hips backward and forward rapidly, and then slowed. His fat young cock was buried deep in his sister's wet slick cunt.
"I dunno." He frowned, and then quickly smiled. "But why it feels good to me ... it tightens the pressure on my cock."
"Ahhhhhh," she sighed as he began again, fucking into her with long slow strokes, "Ahhhhhhh!"
They were lying on a sleeping bag with a warm summer breeze playing over their bodies, teasing Sally's long hair, cooling the sweat that sprang out on Tim's busily working back.
A few feet away, Max and Helen sprawled on the sand and listened indulgently. She sipped her tumbler of Damiana and held up a cigarette to be lighted. It was really strange, but she felt relaxed and contented. Her shock and fear had almost completely vanished, though she didn't understand why.
"It's been a long day, Max," she said, leaning her head on his shoulder.
They'd eaten and done the camp chores. They'd gone swimming in the clear blue waters of the Sea of Cortez, splashing through the light surf and floating as in a warm salty bath. The kids splashed and chased each other, and hunted shells, and aimed their cameras at everything in sight. All that was well and good, a normal happy family vacation. To their relief, no other cars or campers had pulled into what they thought of as their own private beach.
Helen was calm and happy most of the time, until late afternoon. Max's therapeutic fucking did her a lot of good; it was more than a physical encounter, it was a strong reminder of their love for each other, and their trust. She'd accepted the idea that he wanted to have Sally just as much as she needed Tim.
What she hadn't counted on was her reaction to seeing the two youngsters making love to each other. Somewhere in her mind they were still babies, dependents she had to protect. And when they kissed each other for long breathless moments, when Tim ran his fingers up his sister's ass playfully, when Sally giggled and grabbed for her brother's penis, Helen got shook all over again.
"What if somebody sees them," she fretted. "What if they forget, and do that in school or on the playground."
"Now, now, have a little faith," Max answered. She knew what it was; she still felt an overabundance of maternal responsibility. As Max pointed out, they could well expect the children to learn about sex any time from then on. The difference from most families was that the parents were usually unaware of what their kids were up to. Even though she'd been a virgin when she married, she knew perfectly well that few of her girl friends were. She remembered girls from high school who got in the back seats of cars with almost anyone. She remembered some others who bragged about purely technical virginity. They only went down on boys, and got their kicks being sucked off; they didn't screw.
And if teenagers of her generation did those things, surely the children coming along today would do them too, and more. With all the exposure to movies and magazines, with increasing permissiveness in the air, with women's publications in the grocery store that featured articles on orgasms and contraceptives, there was no way young people wouldn't be encouraged to learn and experiment with sex. Even if they weren't allowed into movies like Deep Throat, simply knowing the film was playing everywhere made an atmosphere that was bound to affect them
She still felt stiff and resistant until they sat around a fire toasting hot dogs for dinner. Maybe it was the Damiana liqueur Max kept pouring into her. She couldn't believe it really was an aphrodisiac, but-could she prove it wasn't? Certainly her mind and muscles relaxed, and her cunt began to churn and cream.
Helen took another sip, and let the aromatic flavor roll around on her tongue.
No, it wasn't the drink so much as the kids and their open, wholesome attitude.
They bickered agreeably over who could cook hot dogs the best, just as they'd always done. They crammed creamy sweet, half blackened marshmallows in their mouths greedily. They groaned about doing dishes, but did them just the same. And after the clean-up, the four of them stared into the dying fire and sang the same old songs Helen remembered from her own Scouting days. "Oh Susannah,"
"Green Grow the Rushes-O" and "Tell Me Why" floated on the clear night air, Sally's soft treble soaring over Tim's deepening alto. They all laughed, Tim included, when his voice suddenly broke and sent him into a throaty bass. The kids were just the same, after all.
When she said this to Max, he laughed.
"Did you expect them to turn into old hags, or monsters of some kind?" Well, she guessed she had.
"Let me fill your glass," he said kindly. "Try to relax, hon, everything is just fine."
By the time Sally nestled into her brother's arms, and began whispering in his ear, her mother could take it in stride. The mischevious little girl knew Tim was cautious about making the first move, so she did it for him. Whispered and tickled his ear with her tongue, and rolled against him so he couldn't help but feel her little titties. Skinned off her jeans and threw a leg over his hips, forcing him to acknowledge her damp crotch and hungry pussy.
Then the parents watched with loving smiles while their kids fucked each other madly. Helen whispered, "Why does it feel so good to get fucked in the ass?"
"Lots of nerve endings there, I think." He tried to remember. "Let's look it up when we get home. Buy a copy of Kinsey or something."
"Okay." The longer she watched, the more Helen got turned on. Tim's firm slim ass was a white blur in the moonlight. She had this terrific desire to go touch it, to get involved somehow in the frantic lovemaking. She looked at Max out of the corner of her eye. His jaw hung a little open, and saliva gathered in the corners of his mouth. He licked his lips periodically, and his eyes seemed glued to the lascivious scene.
Well, if Sally could break the ice, so could her mother! Slowly Helen stood and peeled off her flared pants. She pulled her jersey over her head, and looked down at her naked body. Not bad for an old girl. Pretty damn good, in fact, for the mother of two. Her stomach pouched out a little bit, but in a gentle womanly curve. Her boobs hung down like fat pears, but they always had; it was because they were so full and heavy. Her hips and thighs were firm and gleamed whitely. She strolled over and looked down at the two sweat-damp bodies, trying to figure out what to do.
Tim did have the sweetest little ass! She dropped down beside him and stroked it, and slid a finger between the cheeks. The puckered brown hole gave way under her pressure. Tim slowed his stroke for just a moment, and then picked up speed. Her finger went up and down with his bobbing back, shaking her arm. She crooked the finger inside his tight brown hole, wiggling it. He shivered all over and moaned happily.
Max had been watching all this with interest. Well, all right, he thought. He took off his clothes and approached the threesome. His hard-on waggled in front, bouncing with his step. It throbbed heavily, and he looked for a place to put it. Rearranging Helen only took a minute. He spit on his fingers and rubbed them over his penis, feeling the blood beat in his enormously ready organ. He bent over his wife's behind and plugged her anus with the scarlet wet head. "Relax," he whispered as he pushed. He didn't need to say that thought Helen. Her sphincter muscles were just as relaxed as she could make them. Her ass swelled up his cock like a mouth, surely sucking it in and not just accepting. Was that possible? Something else to look up, she thought vaguely, and then forgot to think at all. Her round white asscheeks struck back again and again, catching his hard swinging stroke. Her anal walls clung, so that his emerging cock brought with it a thin pink-brown skin as tight as a tourniquet. Lust flooded through her, her clit rose and swelled, her nipples awoke, her very skin seemed an instrument of erotic pleasure.
"HIIHH! EEEEEE!" Sally yelped. Helen and Max heard her cries very dimly, as if sand had stopped up their ears. He growled wordlessly as he plundered his wife's beautiful backside. The tight wet heat and the way she slammed back against his thighs and swinging balls made him growl louder and clamp his hands tight on her hips.
Helen didn't know when Tim rolled away and she lost the close feeling of finger-fucking his anus. But he was there, rolling under her, urging her down toward his face. She sank, squatted, with a happy moan. His fingers pulled her labia apart, and then his tongue began to explore the wet steamy depths of her pussy. Slammed forward and back by Max's powerful cock, at the same time she bounced up and down on the hot probing tongue. She was almost delirious with pleasure, her head spinning, her little happy cries filling the air.
"Oh, uh, HAHHH! Oh good, fuck! Fuck!" she chanted, breathing hard through her mouth. She was at a peak of lusty abandonment she hadn't thought possible.
Recovering from her orgasm, Sally watched the lascivious scene. She admired her mother's fuller body and sexual skills desperately, and wished she could tell her so that very minute. But she wasn't going to be left out, not Sally! She circled the lewd trio and crouched behind her father's back. His hairy balls were bouncing and jangling, his ass going furiously. She loved the sight of his thick white penis sliding in and out of her mother's bunghole. Her little hands grasped the swelling balls, tickled Max's anus, stroked his buttocks lovingly. She put her face into the cleft of his ass and tasted the odorous asshole. Her tongue poked hard and penetrated the tight puckered ring of muscle.
"JEEEZZZuss!" That did it, Max thought. His balls were supercharged, and they moved and tingled, and shot their hot load down the length of his cock into Helen's narrow sheath. He slammed on for a moment or two, his spurting dick jetting its steamy jism into her, until it shriveled and slipped out. Still panting, he fell forward on her creamy backside.
At almost the same moment, Helen felt the double assault as a small explosion. Rockets went off inside her, her labia vibrated and fluttered involuntarily, and the sweet pangs shot all through her.
"AAAHHHHHH!" she shouted. "AAARRRGGGHHH!" The semen flooded her anus, her cunt let loose a flood of her own juices, and she collapsed, exhausted but happy on the beach, almost at the point of tears.
"Holy shit," Tim breathed raspingly. He couldn't even believe it! He patted his mother's heaving back. "When you do something, Mom, you don't fool around!"
Laughter gusted between them, and Max looked at his family with breathless satisfaction. He agreed with his son. Once Helen was convinced, she really made a job of it!
"Next time-" Sally began, and they all hooted.
"Let's have a little time out," her father begged. "You! You just never get enough, you little minx!"
Sally had to admit it was true. She had an incredible appetite for sex, it even amazed herself. She could be writhing and panting and howling in the middle of an orgasm, and still feel the hot desire for another one building up in her. Her little pussy was sore half the time from the unaccustomed exercise, but she felt confidently that the minor ache would pass. She'd have to ask her mother if there was something to put on it, or rather in it. Then the bizarre reality hit the girl, and she chortled to herself. Just imagine asking one's mother what to do about a vagina that was sore from too much fucking! The odd humor of it struck her forcibly, and her snort of laughter turned into a gale, rolling her over in the sand.
"What's so funny, sweets?" her father asked.
"Oh... nothing. Just something to tell Mom about later. A little female secret," she said demurely.
Helen was as puzzled as the rest, but secretly gratified. The one thing she feared was the loss of her daughter's confidence. They'd been unusually close, for mother and daughter, and she hoped it would stay that way. Not only for Sally's sake, because she needed her mother whether she knew it or not, but quite selfishly. Helen would hate to think of losing the friendship and warm companionship.
"Okay, kiddo," she said cheerfully. "Why don't you tell us what you have lined up for us next? Then we can be thinking about it while we get recharged."
"Well, if I go down on Tim, and Dad fucks me, and-no, that's not right. Say Tim fucks Mom, while I-oh, shit!" She stamped her foot in frustration while her family roared.
"Never mind, honey," her mother said comfortingly. "We'll work it out. She turned to Max and said teasingly, "I've heard all I can take about what a great lover you are. Now here's your little girl hot to trot, and what are you doing about it?"
"I'm an old man," he protested laughingly. But he shook his shoulders in an involuntary shiver, and looked down at his groin. As they all stared, his limp-hanging meat began to twitch, and swell, and raise itself. "Not too old, though, I guess," he added.
Feeling strong and virile and happy, he crawled over to the eager girl and split her pussy lips with the swelling head of his cock. The touch was enough, her cunt creamed heavily and spilled over his hot dick. He shoved in carefully, and found to his surprise and delight that, though he could enter her more easily, her sheath was as tight and hot as ever. Deeply moved by the lewd and loving situation, he began to fuck her in long slow strokes.
"Okay, honey, I'll be ringmaster," Helen said cheerfully to her son. "Just climb right aboard, stick your whacker in your little sister's mouth."
"But what about you," he asked, looking longingly at Sally's lewdly smiling lips.
"Just do it, don't worry."
His balls plump, his young dick stiff and fat, he knelt over her face. Her mouth closed slickly around his aching penis and she tickled it hotly with her tongue. He moaned happily and closed his eyes as he fed his meat to her in quick fast jabs.
Helen could hardly wait. She'd gotten the most perverted idea of all during the last go-round, and she was eager to try it. Kneeling behind her son, she separated his buns and bent her face to the moist odorous cleft.
"Yiiipes!" Tim leaped as he felt his mother's long hollowed tongue worming into his anus. It was almost more than he could stand! The pleasure was so intense, his balls almost spilled their load then and there. But he took a deep breath and went back to fucking his sister's mouth, while Helen's slick firm tongue stabbed right to its roots in his tight pungent asshole.
No less amazed than his son, Max looked across Sally's slim body and saw the flickering tongue fucking Tim's anus. What a woman he'd married! She'd fought hardest against change, but once she accepted it, she went all the way!
Talk about togetherness, he thought, as he continued plunging his huge dick into Sally's tight nest. This was one family that had it, and, he vowed, they were going to keep it that way. He and Helen, between them, could safeguard the children's well being and happiness. It might not be conventional. It might not even be the best way. In fact, if he'd thought it out in advance, he would have been strongly against it. But since the situation was already here, in existence, he sure as hell meant to enjoy it!
CHAPTER TWELVE
"Well, we'd have loved to but... no ... yes, we're all just fine. And no, we're not mad at anybody, we don't want to upset you, we have simply changed our minds... For Christ's sake, don't worry so! We'll keep our mouths shut, we were in it as much as you... Okay. No hard feelings? ... Good ... Good-bye."
Max shook his head wearily. "That's the fifth call in two days, Helen. They sure don't give up easy, do they?"
He put the phone back on the stand and slumped on the sofa. She patted his bare knee and said, "They'll believe us sooner or later, honey. Even if they don't understand why."
"Yeah, I guess." He grinned. "And God knows we aren't about to say why!"
He tried to put the phone call out of his mind. He had no idea dropping out of the swinging group would be such a hassle, though now he could understand it. The other couples were hurt and offended. They felt as though he and Helen had tried them, and rejected them. He might have felt the same way.
Helen went on thoughtfully, "I'm glad we did drop out before, we got into family swinging. Though I don't know what difference it makes."
"They feel as if we've put them down, but they'll get over it. And I think-yes, I'm sure-there're others who want to drop out, too. The die-hards are afraid we're setting a bad example. Bad from their viewpoint, that is."
"This is so much better," she sighed. Max agreed wholeheartedly. He looked around the room, seeing his family together with satisfaction. At first they'd all laughed at Sally's ideas, she sounded so young and naive. She couldn't see why nudity and sex had to be kept for certain hours and now enjoyed freely, as long as they kept the draperies closed. But somehow it'd worked out just as she thought it should.
Helen was wearing a robe, but it was open down the front, showing a very attractive glimpse of her big creamy knockers and nearly flat tummy, and the soft curls of her bulging pudenda. He was wearing boxer shorts himself, in spite of the kids' complaints about his being a fuddy-duddy. He could take them off in a hurry, he said good naturedly. Besides, the fly gave a lot of leeway. As for instance right now, when Helen was troubled and thoughtful, she naturally wanted the reassurance of being able to touch him. Her hand slipped inside the opening and fingered his soft penis. It was a handful even when limp, she liked to say. She just liked the warmth and intimacy of holding it.
The lights were dim, and the children had their eyes glued to the television. They couldn't be bothered with any clothes at all, when the family was alone.
"I have to let my body breathe," Sally said dramatically, throwing her arms wide and stretching.
Be that as it may, and his body had been breathing okay under clothes for a few years, Max understood. It was a new generation, the-what did they call it? The Now generation.
And their own particular specimens of it were curled up in one big armchair. Tim sat with his legs sprawled wide, his head thrown back in comfort. Sally was crosswise in the chair, head on one arm, knees over the other. Her pert bottom rested on her brother's lap.
Tim's one arm held her back, but his free hand toyed with her pink nipples or her little forest of curls, that grew thicker and springier every day. Max knew, he didn't need a diagram, that Sally had managed to spread her buttocks so Tim's penis lay snugly in the nest.
So that's the way it was. During commercials, they might play with each other's bodies, or invent new games. Either kid felt perfectly free to fondle their parents nudity, too, and the other way around.
It hadn't spoiled anything, merely added a new exciting dimension to family life. Helen was still the boss around the house, he himself as always the final court of appeal. We're so lucky, he thought. We've got good kids. We've got perfect honesty and trust among ourselves.
Yes, it might not be everybody's ideal family, but he was more than satisfied.
"Oh, shoot, there's nothing on now but news," Sally pouted.
"Bedtime," Helen said automatically.
"Motherrr! It's Friday night!" , "Oh, sorry, dear." Helen looked around placidly. "Anybody for a game of Monopoly?"
Tim spoke up. "If you two aren't too tired ... well, Sal got one of her weird ideas today."
They grinned at each other. They'd already had Crisco parties, where they greased their bodies and then had a slippery round-robin of sex. They'd eaten everything from peanut butter to puddles of brandy out of various places in their bodies. They'd created a shortage of ready whipped cream at the local market, because the kids fancied squirting it at each other and then licking it off.
"Is there anything left to do?" Max grinned.
"She wants us to take turns fucking and see who can make it last the longest," Tim said, grinning back.
"Yeah," Sally chimed in eagerly. "And when it's my turn, I'm going to read a book aloud at the same time! See if I can fuck and do my homework simul-simultin-oh, shit! You know what I mean! Both things together."
Helen laughed, and shook her head. "Weird is right. Suppose you two begin, and we watch and time you. I've got a stop watch from your swimming meets."
She got up to get it, and Max slumped back in comfort, ready for the show. These darn kids, what would they come up with next? Who needed sex swaps with people you didn't even love, when you could have all this at home!
Yep, he thought comfortably, it's just the beginning of another family weekend at our house. A happy family scene, togetherness like nobody ever saw before.
