Cully looked at his sister as she lay in bed, the top of her sheer white nightgown poking out in front from the stiff protrusions of her nipples.
God, how he wanted her. His own sister! But that was nothing new-he'd always wanted her, and until recently, he'd always had her.
"Cully?" she said, her voice deep and husky. "Cully? Just this one last time-just this once! Melisse will be home with the baby soon, and I have to go back to Brian. But please, just one last time. I want to feel you inside me ... deep inside me."
All he could manage was a groan. It didn't take him more than ten seconds to strip completely and climb into the bed next to her.
"Oh Carole," he murmured into her ear, "My sweet, sexy little sister Carole ... come here!"
CHAPTER ONE
Carole was waiting in Cully's apartment when he came in.
He had been careful not to get drunk, which placed him in a class by himself. Everybody else at the bachelor party had loaded up to the eyebrows.
"Carole! What're you doing here?"
She gave him one of those studied, veiled looks from beneath long lashes like black feathers. "You know, big brother." She gazed at him, unbuttoning her blouse without haste-but not slowly, either. His sister.
He sighed. "Oh shit, Carole!"
"Last chance, brother," his sister said. She peeled open the blouse to display that familiar chest, the shining broad valley separating the exquisite cone-shapes of her breasts.
He studied her. The longish, piquant face with its almost pointed, dimpled chin and wide mouth and slightly pugged nose; black coals of eyes sheltered beneath the thick black lashes. The long neck, pronounced collarbones, the just visible bone structure of her upper chest and the luscious white apples erupting from it The hollow beneath her rib cage, running down into a long, narrow and nearly flat belly with a shallow navel that was almost perfectly round.
"Yeah," he said quietly. And his hands plucked open his belt buckle. "Yeah, last chance."
"Tomorrow," Carole said, slowly standing, "you're going to be my old married brother. This time tomorrow night you'll be sleeping the good and exhausted sleep, curled up with your bride. And then Melisse will have you forever, and you and I are finished. With this, I mean. Then we'll be just like other brothers and sisters." She made a face. 'I'll probably wind up doing babysitting for you and Melisse-for your kids, I mean."
She sighed, running her skirt down over her slightly angular hips and long slim thighs, showing him that full and shining and sleek-looking bush that hadn't even been there when he and she had first begun their sibling sexplay, years ago. In those days there had been only a few wispy black hairs around her dark pink vulva. Curling, very silky tendrils that weren't very pretty because of their sparseness. They had developed into the rich black mat she showed him now.
That was a long time ago, Cully Hartman thought, watching her. A lot of water under the dam. A lot of semen over the dam. A lot of sucking and fucking ago. Cully was twenty-three, now. Carole, his sister and longtime lover, was eighteen, close to nineteen. Two weeks ago she had graduated from high school. She already had the job at the bank. And next week she would begin the night class over at the University: a course in basic economics and banking, paid for by the People's National Bank and Trust Co.
And tomorrow Cully would be married. A week-well, five days-in Miami Beach and back home, an old married man of twenty-three, with good job and a working twenty-one-year-old bride. A bride who was an intelligent blonde with the best figure of any girl he'd ever dated. And a real strangeness, considering the times and Cully's experience: Melisse was a virgin. (Although she was not opposed to a lot of very heavy petting and a constant flow into her laundry of semen-crusted handkerchiefs.)
A lot of water over the dam, Cully thought, and he felt a surge of desire for his sister's familiar body and familiar wanton ways. The fact that this would be their last time was a strong factor in his arousal.
After all, tomorrow ... as the song said: in just a few-more-hours...
Naked, he stood there looking at her slender nudity for a moment, and then went to her with a feeling of sudden urgency. Pulling her against him, he pressed his lips to hers and almost immediately plunged his tongue deep into her mouth She sighed in rising sensuality. Her fingertips moved constantly on his shoulders, then his back, as if she were playing an erotic little tune on invisible keys. Her tongue met his in a sudden fierce ecstasy of sensuousness and she rammed her tits against him. She used them like weapons, like stabbing weapons. She jerked her shoulders to dig them into his chest. They seemed to burn into him. The nipples seemed to vibrate and send hot flashes back into the firm, almost hard white mounds they decorated.
Her mouth accepted his probing tongue and she treated it to a suction that made him moan. His breathing rose, and Cully pulled his sister harder and harder against himself.
The last time, he thought. And: How do you do it with your sister, for the last time?
Quickly, because tomorrow is marriage and tomorrow night it's with Melisse, for the first time? Or slowy, long and drawn out, for the same reason?
She smiled into his eyes. "You're thinking that this is the last time with me, and tomorrow is the first time with her. And that's for keeps. And you're excited about her, too, aren't you Cully? Those big jugs of hers and all that blonde hair, big blue eyes. You're wondering whether we do it quickly and violently, and that's that, or slowly, slowly, savoring everything, aren't you, Cully?"
"We know each other too damned well!" he said, and it was almost a lament. "You're reading my mind."
"Stop thinking about it, big brother. Just dick me. Let's just fuck. We've been fucking for years. Let's just fuck, and we don't have to worry about its being good; it's always good!"
Still holding his eyes with hers, holding him with both arms, she backed up. To the bed. She sank backward onto it, pulling him down with her. His hand slid up to palm the wealth of soft tendrilly fleece that formed a black patch on her lower belly. The comers of her mouth moved only slightly, as if tugged by a smile not quite strong enough. He saw that there were tears in her eyes. He slipped a finger into the familiar, well-remembered wet heat of her. She didn't clamp his hand, as she often did. This time she snapped her legs far apart
"Not big enough, Cully," Carole said. "Get it in me-get it in me!"
And so, without more than the long kiss and the tiny amount of foreplay and the arousal and need in their own minds, he got it in her.
He pressed in, opening her easily with the swollen knob of his cock. She sighed in the pure joy of a healthy girl who-likes, who needs, cock. Pressing and urging herself to him, she felt her flesh stretching around his, once more, in the way she loved. Then he gave his hips a swift little jerk and sank his prick into the slitted entry of that juicy, clasping hole.
She lay back with a long contented sigh, just feeling and feeling, concentrating on the powerful masculine presence within her body. Her hands moved over him in a worshipfully adoring massage of his masculine muscles.
Savoring every instant, every inch of her clasping sheath around his flesh, he began moving slowly in and out of her. Passion became lust, and the movements increased in tempo with his breathing. He began fucking her with long hard strokes between the already wet and slippery folds of her cunt. Each thrust made it swallow his slippery meat all the way to the balls. The pressure of that long hard staff digging relentlessly into her made her squirm with pleasure, and that made him smile. So did her words:
"Screw me, screw me, big brother!"
"Fuck you, sister!" he said.
His reply was as to a litany, both of them using words they had used many times, increasing the delicious sensations of their lovemaking with the self-reminders that they were breaking an ancient taboo-and with delight, and love, and enthusiasm that left no time or consideration for the hang-ups or horror of cither people, little people, people who put rules around sex as if it were like chess. It wasn't, and they had long since discarded rules and boundaries.
Her skin gleamed with perspiration and she sighed, feeling the warmth increase inside her.
"Oh damn, oh shit, darling ... goddam, it feels so good in me, up me, going in and out, pumping me . ... "
"So ... wet," he gasped, rising and falling faster and faster. "So wet, baby sister, and so tight, still so fantastically tight!"
Her arms leaped up to enwrap him, firmly. She held him against her while his ass rocked and pummeled up and down, slapping her body and slicking in and out of it so that she moaned in pleasurable pain, pained pleasure, and her conical, almost hard tits crammed themselves into his chest until they were forced back into her body, squashed and telescoped by his driving power. Both of them strained together, strained to weld their bodies tightly together.
"Fuck ... you," he groaned, staring down into her eyes as he spoke, intensely. "Fuck-you! Fuck you, baby sister, fuckyou, fuckyou fuckyou . ... "
Smiling up at him, she writhed happily beneath the twinned erotic impact of his body and his words. They had begun using the words early on, when they were kids. The words made them feel wicked and naughty and sexy, then, and they still liked them, the coarse descriptive words.
Her mouth gave up little sounds of pleasure as she rubbed her damp cheek against his. The all-consuming heat of her own passion shook her and she bit her lip. He brought groans from her as he pumped in and out of the steaming wetness of her velvet-walled furrow. Searing, pumping lust took over mind and body.
They bounced together, clawing at each other. Their bodies lurched and thrashed. The strong drives of his hips pounded her, drove him deeper and still deeper into her, penetrating her flowered-open cunt with livid, hot cock that penetrated to her slushy depths.
He's trying to pound me right through the floor, she thought. Well . . .let him!
And she tried to help him, with wild jerking thrusts of her loins. Her pussy seemed to come to a boil all around his flailing prick. Warm juices trickled down her thighs. She began crying out and grabbing wildly at him-and he watched her make it in a series of ejaculatory jerks and sighs.
"Oh, big brother," she gasped happily. "Got it ... offff!"
It was boiling up in him too, rising too high and too fast. Too soon. He wanted it to last. The blood was thundering through his head in hot waves. He trembled bled, making the terrible effort to still himself. Then, with his hands planted on either side of her, he pushed back.
"Oh-oh no," she moaned, feeling the big shaft riding out of her, abandoning her cunt.
But he pushed, with his hands, and his cock emerged with a soft, slurpy plop that sent a licentious tingle licking through both of them. He rested, giving his supercharged flesh a chance to cool off. They had learned control together, too.
"Darling . ... " She wriggled, whimpering and fixing him with a plaintive look. Control wasn't Carole's thing.
He grinned at her. Then he returned to the hot wet hole with a hard lunge. It pushed his slippery length all the way back in, to the scrotal hilt. That one virile shove penetrated to her very womb and crammed her soft lovelips halfway back into the slit they framed.
She broke, groaning, into a series of violent gyrations. Hot fluids came swirling up anew in her turbulent hole and soon his cock was wet and slippery-sliding with her flowing juices of passion. He began pounding hard, swooping all the way in and nearly all the way out, splashing in her.
Her face was contorted in ecstasy. Her wildly surging desires tried to consume her, to steal her away from this mad erotic scene. She quivered beneath him in a sort of convulsive delirium. It always happened to her. Sex, sex, she lived for sex, and she ground her body to his. A roaring fire seemed to rage in her thirsty cavern now, filling her with an all-consuming passion and need.
"Yes, oh yes, more!" she gasped. "Morel" He pumped hard, giving her more. His hands slid over her, gripped her, skidded on sweat, squeezed her in a way that threatened to be too forceful without ever quite being so. His hands shot down, clamped her thighs, dragged them far up beside him. They came sinuously. Groaning, putting all his weight on her as he used her for leverage, he struggled up to his knees. With both hands, he crammed her thighs down to mash her breasts.
"Uh," she gasped in strain and not-quite discomfort, "Ah-aghh!"
She was obscenely doubled, her legs doubled back along her own torso with its core turned upward. The fleshy swelling of her cunt leered up at him with its lips pressed nearly shut by her strained position. The hills of her firm rump were sprung violently, voluptuously open. The narrow crack was forced into a shining, broad valley that displayed and parted the pursed, exciting recess of her anus. Her entire inguinal and anal area was open and available to him now, the near-set clefts tightly constricted into long snug inner tubes.
She trembled, making only the throatiest of sounds. Her muscles rippled and strained tensely under the satiny skin. The race of conflicting emotions through her head and heart made her shiver. Oh God ... with her in this vulnerable, so lewdly available position, was he going to shove himself past the tight flesh ring of her anus, constricted and unprepared?
The thought sent icy shivers down her back. How that would hurt!
Yet even that thought only increased her excitement and libidinal anticipation. She felt an intense tug of sensual longing. Whatever he wanted, whatever he wanted to do, however he wanted her.
But breaching her straitened ass-hole was not his intent. Holding her doubled and open to his whim, he sent his cock to the vaginal slit, already opened and plumbed and dampened with from first orgasm. But now her enforced posture made it even more snug and constrictively tight-walled than before. She groaned aloud when he punched it in and began pushing again down the long snug furrow.
She felt herself spreading around him, dilating all the way to her cervix as he forced himself in, now thrusting down into her cunt. He gave her the entire length of his raging hard-on, all the way up the hungry tunnel of her burning, secretion-drooling cunt. He did not cease pushing until his balls lay in the slick, tight-skinned sulcus of her rump.
Then he knelt there and made her face writhe and her body shudder and her throat force out groans. He balled down into her hard and deep with jerking, twisting lunges of his lithe body, his cock pounding and goading her pussy, goading itself until, just as she emitted a long shriek of exploding passion, he came.
His fiery hot load gushed from his ballooning cock-head and squirted into her, to bathe her pussy and the rubbery neck of her womb with slippery sperm.
"Jesus," she groaned, clutching at him as he released her legs at last. They fell leadenly onto the bed and he tucked them between his so as to keep his spent cock clamped inside her, to wallow in its own warm slime. "Oh Jesus ... what am I going to do without you and your marvelous cock?"
"Sell your body," he smiled, nestling warmly atop her and stroking her upper arms. "Give it away!"
She turned her head to look at the wall. "I wonder. Even if I did, will I ever find another man like my brother?"
CHAPTER TWO
Cully Hartman was not thinking of his sister the following evening when he and the woman he had made Mrs. Culhane Michael Hartman followed the bellman from the desk to the elevator.
They had flown down to Miami Beach two hours after the wedding, leaving the reception in full swing and having to run, laughing, from the rice-hurling contingent that followed them to the airport. That told the passengers and stewardesses that they were newlyweds, and they felt they were being stared at, all the way down to Florida. Then the landing, only thirty-one minutes behind schedule, and the moments of apprehension until they spotted their luggage, and the cab trip past strange Florida soil and stranger grass, and into town to the hotel.
Melisse Gaskell Hartman was not the sort of woman that other women beamed upon to say things like "pretty little thing" or "oh isn't she swee-eet!" She was definitely the kind of woman that men looked at, more than other women (who would be more inclined to feel nervous, or jealous, or worse). The intoxicating sexuality of her young vigorous body was a clarion call to arousal, a constant challenge to maleness.
"The body of a sensualist, or a class stripper," Cully had told her, "and the mind and morals of the last century!"
"No no no, Cully," she had said, sliding her hand along the spiteful-looking staff she had taken out of his pants, "no, I'm not-you know I'm not! It's just this one thing. I want you, Cully Hartman. I want this," and she gave his cock a squeeze that made him grunt. "I want it in me. I want you to teach me, teach me all of it, and I need more than your hands on me! But ... no, no, damn it ... not until June 16th! Then you'll be lucky if I don't rape you in the plane, or the cab, or the hotel lobby!"
"Not being raped by you-lucky?" Cully had said, and they had clinched and then slipped into another of those mutual masturbation bouts that greased another handkerchief with semen and left her clitoris and nipples throbbingly sensitive, almost sore.
Now, on June 16th, as the elevator rose to the eighth floor and the end of mutual masturbation, he pressed his lips to her ear. "Well, you didn't rape me yet."
She giggled, and the bellman rolled his eyes surreptitiously to watch the way the sexy blonde's stuffed bodice jiggled and jounced, the cloth rippling and straining.
"The day's not over yet," she whispered. "What time is it?"
"It's time," Cully assured her, caressing the cloth stretched over her saucy ass, and she giggled again. Her eyes sparkled.
"Dinner?" she asked, turning her face teasingly to his.
"We ate on the plane-which is why I booked us on that flight. You're in me clutches, woman!"
She shivered as he pressed his crotch against the smooth ripeness of her fleshy rear cheeks. No more kidding. "Thank God," Melisse breathed fervently. She was his wife because no man had ever turned her on so much. If she were ever to graduate from girlhood into being a woman, she was certain it would be with Cully Hartman.
He fondled her sneakily all the way down the hall and into the spacious room that was a wedding gift from her uncle. Five days' worth. And five nights. In two minutes the bellman was gone, with a little too much tip, and a bulge in his pants and envious thoughts for the man who had secured the door behind him. That bulge had its counterpart in Cully's pants as he turned from the latched door.
"Oh, Cully, it's a lovely room, isn't it?"
"It's a lovely room. It's got a lovely woman in it!"
She gazed at him a moment, then ran to plaster herself against him. 'It's got my beautiful husband in it!"
He kissed her. "We may not leave for the next five days."
She chuckled. Her hand slid in between them to check out the swollen condition of his fly. She shivered. "Cully ... darling ... now, at the last minute, that frightens me a little."
He slid his hand over her bottom. "Well, since you didn't rape me, I guess I won't you, either. I'll be that old, old wedding-night cliche ... gentle. Now who strips that magnificent sensualist's body of yours-you or me?"
She shivered again. Then, "Cully? Get me naked."
Cully loved the way she said it. With impatient hands that he had to force to be caressive rather than pawingly jerky, he turned her. He unclasped and unzipped the new dress of royal-blue knit and slid his hands in over the warm, nylon-soft flesh inside. She made a throaty sound of pleasure and leaned back against him. He had to pause to kiss her. Then, with her facing him he pulled the dress up and up, baring her slowly, intentionally prolonging the displaying of her all-over beauty. She stripped the sleeves from her arms while he gazed at her loveliness.
Lovely skint Full, swelling chest and gently rounded belly with an oval, shadowy navel seeming to point at the center of her tight black panties. She had worn them and the garter-belted stockings rather than pantyhose, he knew, for his delectation and his ease. The straining black bra cradled the exquisite bulging breasts he had fondled and kissed so many times without really seeing them; unfettered, completely unclothed, loose and jiggly, with her standing or sitting, moving or lying down.
"The bra's your baby," he said, making her laugh, creasing her cheeks with those long dimples. He always had a hard time with her brassiere-catch.
Smiling at him, she put her hands back and opened it. He saw the loosening of the soft black nylon pouches, the slight relaxing and lowering of the big white bounty they contained. Then he reached up to slide his fingers into the front of the loosened harness, between the radiant warmth of her breasts. The beautiful big nude masses leaped out to shake with uncurbed turbulence, bobbing and trembling with tantalizing vitality.
She cupped each full white oval in a palm and lifted it, offering her overdeveloped tits to him with her eyes on his face. He bent his head to kiss each pink tip. His hands slid to her hips, began brushing down her panties. He lowered his body with them, winding up before her loins with her panties around her ankles and her sparse blonde delta a few inches from his face.
Closing the distance, he palmed her naked buttocks and pressed a long, firm kiss onto her mount. After an initial nervous quaver and little cry, she sighed and rocked her hips gently. Her hands slithered through his hair.
"Oh darling," she sighed, "that's ... so good! And I like you mussed ... do you mind?"
"Um-mm." He drew his head back and watched his breath ripple across the silky pussy hair. "No. I like you naked. Do you mind?"
"No, Cully! I want to be naked for you! And you-let's get those clothes off!"
They got them off, all of them, and looked at each other's total revelation for long moments before they went to the bed. They bared it, too, and then fell together onto the crisp white sheet.
"I love the feel of you, Melisse. Your skin ... just...you."
Her hands were roaming him with the same pleasure and growing longing. "Oh yes, darling! I love your skin ... the hard places, these muscles ... your hair, oh, I love hair!" She stroked and caressed and pressed his flesh, his strong back and slender waist and his lean hips, tracing out his hollows with her fingers, then gliding them back onto the small, muscular cheeks of his butt. She loved it all, his light coating of dark hair most of all, and she gave his body more ardent, loving attention.
No, not most of all. It was this thick, lust-reddened projection of his that she loved most, ramming out from the heavy, hairy globe-shapes of his balls, like precious agates running up their flag of lust with its swollen head like an outsized kidney. She stroked it while he stroked and pressed her naked tits. She sighed, leaning a little more to him, spilling them into his hands for more and more of his passionate attentions.
She had always been proud of her body, proud of her outsized tits.
Hers were rather narrow shoulders, above a fertility-goddess figure of big oval-shaped breasts and her sleek, round, almost wildly flaring hips; tiny waist, a waist in keeping with her shoulders but not with her hips and the superb, pulpy shapes of her large jouncy breasts. She was aware of it all, and she had learned to be stingy with those outsized charms. All her life men had wanted her tits, wanted to get in her pants. But she had always wanted to offer them, to give them, to share them with a man. This man. Her man. She arched her shoulders to his hands for his intimate gestures of masculine accolade.
She cupped his balls in her hands, warmed them in her palms. Slid them, fingers gently wiggling, up the staff standing out from them.
His lips moved over her shoulder and neck, his hands over her breasts. He palmed the swelling jugs and moved his thumbs in toward the swells of her nipples. Sighing and making little humming noises, she ground her tits and their congealed crests into his hands. His fingers palpated and caressed the juicily erotic melons until her whole body was tingling. His hands were thrilling instruments that sent lovely twinges and throbs throughout her in a series of lush thrills.
Then one hand slid down her superbly curved body to her hip, inward, over into the gentle depression and up over her feathery blonde nest. He heard her swift little gasp and felt her shudder of rapturous response.
He ran his hands through the thin patch of pale fleece, over the voluptuous swell of her mons and the tight furrow splitting it. He teased it with a finger that delved only shallowly.
"God ... it's so soft, so soft Melisse, darling ...
"Oh, my own darling ... you know I love that!" She was alive with constant shivers and tremorous jiggles.
"Yes," he murmured, finding the tender node of supersensitive flesh hidden in the dimple between her thighs. He rubbed it and rolled it. She half-convulsed in a welter of lascivious sensations, and her own hand moved ever faster.
"Ease off, sweetheart," he told her quietly. "Easy now ... you'll not be jacking it off this night! It's to go in-here."
"Unnh!"
"And soon, Melisse, soon!" His finger ran in far enough to tease the little inner shielding wall of flesh. She trembled and her lips parted to release a long, sighing groan.
He maintained that sigh, and kept more coming from her, moving his hand on and on, his finger knowingly pressing and rolling her clit as he had so many times before. But this time, when she began to ascend that final long slope to ecstasy, both of them wanted something different, the same thing, what they had never shared.
He swung himself between her legs, poised his body over her seductively feminine contours, smiled down at her.
"All at once, sweetheart. All in a moment of pain, a flash, and then no more pain from me, ever."
"Do it ... take me now, darling!"
A thrilling sensation filled and swelled his balls as he felt the rim of her tight vaginal mouth, parting pliantly for his cock's knob. The soft labia were warm, and thoroughly moist, and they parted easily. He pushed in, a little way. She stiffened, moaned, went pale, and his cock drilled straight into the heart of her pussy.
"Oh ... oh C-Cull ... darling, it ... hurt."
He was very still, cradling her shoulders and then her face in his palms, kissing her with his cock still inside her. He cherished her lips with his. He felt her slowly relaxing. He noted the way her clutching hands became caresses, the way her mouth began to move and to chew at his while her breath became hot and heavy and increasingly loud. His thick sexuality remained planted deep up inside her.
He began to move, only a little at first, loving the tight moist clasp of her untrammeled vagina's grip about him. The soft lips squirmed at the sweet pain of their dilation. They were widespread around the hard-fleshed prod that dug a hole in her furry triangle, for the first time, and then sought to deepen it even as he widened her.
She loved it. She loved the thought and the feel of that big hard thing pumping in and out of her body, probing her and fusing them so intimately.
Raised to the very peak by his hand on her clitoris, she was pumped steadily closer and closer to final, excruciating bliss by his slow, steady, knowledgeably gentle fucking of her burning pussy. Then it reached its limits inside her, and she cried out and clutched him. A tidal wave of passion filled her with excruciating pleasure that engulfed and rocked her in successive washing waves.
Her mouth dropped open and she stared weakly up at his moving face. She shuddered with lust and its slow but chaotic satiation. Her entire being was blowing its top, deep in her belly, and spewing juicily out the open gash of her throbbing cunt. He cradled her in his arms, hugging her exquisite curves and feeling her violent shudders of orgasmic release.
She clutched him to her, crushed the heavy mounds of her tits up to him. "Cul ... Cully darling ... I--oh, I came, with you in me!"
Smiling, then beginning to laugh joyously, he nodded and began sending the hot juice of his passion into her in pumping convulsions. She groaned and shivered. She felt it, felt it coming riotously into her, hot streams of Jism leaping into the depths of her pussy for the first time in her life.
He lay there for a long while, holding her and being rapturously held while their breathing returned to normal.
At last he slid from her, loving the loving, wondering way she looked at him. He went into the bathroom and returned with a soft cloth not quite dripping with warm water. She sighed and gasped out her love and her gratitude as he pressed it to the mouth of her wounded slash. There was very little blood. Her body had been more than ready to be opened up for love.
Discarding the cloth, his hands began to move, interesting themselves in her breasts again. He was fascinated by them. He had fondled these provokingly jutting swells many times, but now they were loose, naked on her naked body, all his-she was all his.
He realized that he would never get enough of this woman.
She warmed, moaning, coming newly alive. He fondled on, on, and she began a writhing and squirming beneath him. One hand plied her tits, the other her loins. Again she came, crying out as it took her in an uncontrollable grip and shook her entire organism. Again he pushed into her, slithering over her. His chest smoothed its hair over her burgeoning, mounding breasts. She groaned when he pushed in, but this time he did not stop his constant moving until both of them had come again.
"Did ... did you take your pill?" he asked a while later, and, curling together, they both laughed. This time they lapsed into sleep, cuddling close.
He awoke at something after two, with her firm, very round buttocks a hot pressure against his groin. Spooning up to the soft relaxed cheeks and the intense warmth she radiated, he breathed deeply of the scent of her hair. Once again his hands filled themselves with the lushness of her seductively feminine contours. For long minutes he lay there behind her, exciting himself with the feel of her body. He eased off when she stirred or moaned softly in her sleep, then returned to his courting of her slumbering body. Little tremors flowed through her as he stroked long, urgent caresses into her warm flesh. Even in her sleep she squirmed erotically under his skillful hands, moaning brokenly. Now he smoothed his hand down over one wide pink hip, up and down, again and again until he was stroking softly and steadily between her thighs. The silken softness of her pubic bulge made his thickening penis ache with anticipation. It rose and rose behind her, pressing the warmth of her buttocks, engorging itself with blood and throbbing hard with expectant lust. The bare, silky-skinned crown rubbed itself happily, erotically against the twin hills of her hindquarters. They were like silken melons that caressed his sexual flesh.
Sighing constantly, she moved in delicious, sleep-shrouded arousal. She slid forward a little, her upper thigh moving off its twin, opening her bottom and unconsciously, instinctively baring her thrill-assailed genitals more and more. He followed, and now he pressed his penis in between the heated smoothness of her relaxed thighs.
His swollen cockhead was just parting her labia when Melisse awoke fully, with a jerk and a little cry. Instantly he kissed her back and held her enwrapped in his arms, scathing her, knowing she must be experiencing disorientation and some fear. She had not, after all, ever awakened before to find the room dark, and a hot hard male shaft knocking for entry at the door of her womb!
"Oh--I Oh ... Cul-Cully ... you ... ohhhh ... My God, Cully-AGAIN?"
"Still," he corrected quietly.
He pressed on between the moistened folds of her tight-lipped pussy from behind. Pressing his crotch firmly into her buttocks, he lay there trembling, luxuriating in the tight, wet warm clasp of her cunt. The soft inner walls of the deeply split hole gripped his cock in a loving embrace of humid warmth.
This darling sheath," he murmured, "has never contained anything but yourself, darling." He was floating aloud, flexing his own ass-hole to make his cock twitch about in her. "And now you're wearing my penis, my cock, for the third time tonight. All the way inside your body. And oh my God, Melisse ... how wonderful you are inside, all soft and warm and so tight and loving around me."
She trembled under the wanton impact of those words, sweet words that made her glow and glory in her femininity. He knew that she was put off by his excitation of both their bodies while she slept, and by his third entry of her. That "Good God-AGAIN?" of hers couldn't be called an exclamation of pure pleasure! But she was filled with creeping warmth and desire, and his enraptured words and the little movements of his prick inside her body added to it. Yielding to her carnal instincts, she gave vent to a whimpering moan and pressed back to his naked warmth.
She sighed and trembled, wearing six or eight inches of good hard male meat up her snatch, from behind. His groin was plastered against the soft-skinned bowls of her buttocks so tightly that his crotch hairs tickled the quivering cheeks in an electrifying contact.
Lying on his side, behind her, he ran his lips over her back and murmured love to her while he moved to widen and deepen her newly opened furrow. He gripped her sleek flanks with sweaty hands that coasted over them so that he had to press his fingers in and hang on tightly ... while he fucked her deep, with sexy liquid sounds. Her bottom trembled, the fleshy cushions absorbing his strokes with their voluptuous softness.
She was nearly still, seeming almost in a daze of exquisite, half-awake delight, crooning and humming unconsciously, receptively accepting the third fuck of her fife-and of the past five hours.
She felt it spurt into her again and she loved the way it felt, this warm, virile wetness that flowed forcefully from his body to hers. His hand was toying with her clitoris, but she was sleepy and neither needed nor wanted that titillation. Closing her fingers over his, she squeezed, and then drew them away from her loins. He returned his hand there, but this time only to hold, rather than to arouse. She sighed at the good, secure feel of his hand on her cunt.
Cully Hartman knew where it was at with a woman, and they both knew it. She'd not be Mrs. Cully Hartman, otherwise.
With him still spooned up behind her, embracing her and softly kissing her back, they both slid deliriously into sleep. Neither of them noticed when his drooping, well-spent penis at last slithered from her.
CHAPTER THREE
When Cully awoke the next morning, he was alone in a chaotically rumpled bed. Perhaps a minute passed before it occurred to him that waking alone in bed was no longer normal. Then, another minute was spent in getting himself sufficiently awake to recognize the background noise: the shower in the hotel bathroom, filtering hissily through the closed door.
Turning over, Cully Hartman tucked his hands behind his head and smiled at the ceiling as if it were an old friend. He thought about his bride. About last night. His smile broadened. This morning too, he thought, remembering that third time he had felt the snug, long-unopened nook of her cunt spread, as if reluctantly, around his dork.
God, he thought, can I ever get enough of her?
Enough? What's enough?
He lay there and recalled detail by detail, little things like the feel of her soft hair and its aroma, big things like her rapturous moans when she felt the in-pumping squirts of his semen. He was dimly aware that the shower sounds had stopped. But only dimly, and he was thus surprised when the bathroom door opened and she came out, breezily enveloped in yards of gauzy white nylon and net over ... he swallowed. Over skin that he knew was glowing from the shower.
She gave a little cry at finding him stretched on his back, hands behind his head, as if displaying his naked body and its dark hair and the hard, thick emblem of his manhood. It lay up his belly, showing her its vein-swollen, tube-swollen underside and the rim of the big helmet-like head.
"Hello, Mister Har-lord! You look ... obscene!"
He strained the muscles of his neck to look down at the flexed muscle of his groin. Using his anal sphincter, he made it jerk; it rose perhaps an inch off his . belly, then snapped back down with a slapping sound.
"Men usually wake up like this," he told her. "It's called a piss hard, or 'penis pride,' in England. Perfectly standard with us males." He reached out and grasped her hand, smiling up at her. "Oh baby, you're beautiful ... that negligee's beautiful!" He sighed expansively, and his hard-on wobbled. "There's another reason for my looking like a phallic symbol this morning, Mrs. Hartman. I've been lying here listening to you in the shower, thinking about you in there naked ... and thinking about last night."
He saw the gauzy fabric of the long gown shimmer as a shiver of pleasure ran through her. She smiled down at him, looking a little unpoised, nervous; not quite comfortable.
"Happy?"
"Oh, Cully-oh yes, darling, I'm happy!"
He gave her wrist a sudden pull. With a squeaky sound, she came plopping down onto him in a cloud of swishy nylon and billowing white net. The bed creaked, both of them groaned, and then his lips had made hers captive. She responded by kissing him strongly back with a restlessly moving mouth. Her arms slid and her hands moved lovingly over his naked flesh.
For a time he contented himself with running his hands all over her through the slippery fabric. It coasted delightfully over the luscious slopes and valleys of her body. But exciting as that was, he wanted the inevitable: the feel of his palms and fingers on her naked flesh. He pulled and tugged until he found the hem of the filmy peignoir, then slid his hands up the backs of her thighs and onto the standing hills of her bottom. She lay half on, half off him, and he crushed firmly down on her ass to press her softly bulging pubis down on his erection.
"Cully," she was murmuring, giving his lips a million pecking kisses, "oh Cully, oh darling!"
Then he began pushing her down his body with one hand, worming his other between them to unite their genitals with her lying atop him.
She stiffened. "Culleee ... I didn't know you were going to be such a sex fiend!" She twitched her mound away from the thick bar of his cock.
"SEX fiend! Good God, Melisse ... we just got married! I've been humoring you, waiting for months! Now I'm a sex fiend because I'm turned on by your lying on me?"
She pushed herself up on her palms so that she was looking down at him. "Cully ... we ... but, I mean ... three times last night! We."
"Yeah, three times. And which one didn't you enjoy?"
She bit her hp. "You know I loved it all-even that third time, when you took me by surprise and I started off sort of mad. But then it was nice. I felt so wanted, and sort of secure, with you holding me from behind that way. But-"
'Well? Well, but what, beautiful?"
"But ... THREE times! I mean, we can't just ... and now you want to..."
She slid her sideways off him and came up on one elbow, facing her on his side.
"Yeah, Melisse, I want to. I may 'want to' every time I see you for the next six months. For the next eighty years, if we're lucky! That's about as normal as ... as sunshine. It's called love.' Also physical attraction. Also biology, and lust. Normal, Melisse! This isn't 1895, or even 1955, when people had the same feelings and urges but pretended they didn't exist. Is that where you're at, Melisse? You wanted to be a virgin for your wedding night, and you were, and it was wonderful. It'll be wonderful today, too, and tomorrow. That virginal girl named Melisse Gaskell is gone, honey! I am a man who's sexually attracted to his woman, and it's time that Gaskell girl became that Hartman woman! You've been saving it a long time, and maybe your mother gave you the twisted idea that your body is some kind of reward, to be used, like a carrot on a stick before the horse's nose ... he gets it every now and then. Well, not this stallion!
You'd better look up 'sex fiend' in your friendly neighborhood dictionary, luv, because I don't think it applies at all to a husband who finds his wife attractive."
Having worked himself up, Cully rolled over, got up, and went straight into the bathroom without glancing back. He reached in to spin on the water in the shower with an angry jerk, and whipped her damp towel off the rod. He slung it into the corner. He directed his thickened, lengthy, but no longer erect penis at the toilet, firing the stream straight into the water with a maximum of noise. Then he swung into the shower, dick flopping, and let the rushing water slash down on him. He soaped himself with vicious movements, doing a thorough job on his cock, momentarily considering pumping it off onto the tile wall. But he decided against that.
He came out toweling vigorously, flipped the towel back into the stall, and started the shaving process. He paused, looking at himself in the mirror. Easy, boy, he thought Never shave while pissed off!
So he stood there taking deep breaths and thinking hard about calming down. When his hands were steady and his heart humming along normally, he shaved. Then he went back into their room with his pecker flopping arrogantly.
She was sitting on the bed with her legs tucked in, the white skirts of her peignoir forming a filmy corolla around her. She'd been crying. She looked at him with eyes that were dark underneath.
"Oh Cully ... it went down!"
"Yeah, happens."
"Cully ... darling ... oh, darling!" Her lips trembled. "I want you to know, really know ... I love you. I want you forever. All my life. Just you. And I ... I'm so sorry I started us off wrong. I guess-I mean, I know my upbringing was different from yours. Everything we did last night was beautiful, and good, and what I have to remember is that it is good, not nasty sex to whisper about That's the way it was in my house. I will remember, because it was beautiful and I believe it and I want you and I want you to want me. I'm ... I'm sorry, darling. You'll never hear anything like what I said, from me again. Never, Cully. You're it, you're the one, Cully. It's just you, all you. Only you. Whatever you want, whenever you want ... and I'll want it too!"
He nodded, smiled, a little stiff. But not in the crotch. "Bight. I'm sorry I came on strong, baby-"
"NO! NO! Come on strong? Cully! Come on strong? I didn't intend to marry a weak man!"
"OK, baby. That's that then. You an' me, forever. And I love you."
She sighed, blinking several times as tears tried to return. He was still stiffish. He noted that she hadn't removed the negligee, symbolic as such a gesture might have been. Now she was gazing at his relaxed pecker. He went to get a pair of shorts.
"Come on, sweetheart, get dressed. I'm starving and my belly's rumbling like a Mack truck!"
She bit her hp a little, but she came off the bed and joined him in dressing. She saw that he paid no attention to her nudity or her dressing. He accepted the apology, she thought but that's all. Damn!
As they were about to leave the room, he kissed her. She pressed hard against him and started going after his mouth hungrily. But he broke it off, and they went down to eat
She's a little right and I'm a little wrong, he mused as they both tucked away more than hearty breakfasts. Well, we'll be OK. People have a right to pout a little, and being called a 'sex fiend" by your own wife is crazy, and a piss-off I Now I've let her know she isn't irresistible, even though she damn near is; that I can turn myself off. (Temporarily!) Otherwise ... otherwise, Cully told himself, he could get into the same sort of begging-husband and keep-away wife situation he knew too many others were into.
Cully and Melisse swam that day, though it was cloudy, and they lay out, and it was great to have a woman other men eyeballed lustfully. She was a fantastic walking piece of sex machinery in the little black suit
Each of them got a little burned, and reminded themselves that sunless sides were dangerous. But they weren't red enough to worry about They wandered, holding hands and being touristy. Toward six, they found a restaurant one of those places serving fresh seafood straight out of the water. They ate with an appetite, and drank a wine whose name they both forgot because they wanted to remember.
They headed back to the hotel, a tallish, slim man with dark, deep-set eyes and thick black hair worn just a little shorter than mod because he was with Proctor & Gamble, and a blonde of medium height and extravagant build whose nearly straight hair was square-cut halfway down her back. Her large blue eyes seemed striving to take in everything at once. A handsome couple. An obviously happy, in-love couple.
They went into the hotel lounge, sparsely populated and dimly lit by flickery candles in fat, glitter-painted brandy snifters. They ordered Black Russians and sat close, listening to the cute and mildly funny patter and the excellent folk singing of a fat-cheeked black guitarist, perched on a stool, wearing purple flares and a matching dashiki top with a deeply V'd front; no collar.
"Not really. We ... could have one up in the room."
"Let's do that," he nodded, turning his hand over under hers, and squeezing it. "He's about to come to the end of this set, I think," he said, and wondered briefly if he'd said it deliberately, to let her know. He could wait.
The singer finished. Cully signed the tab and added his room number and he and Melisse went upstairs. The moment he had closed the door behind him and turned, Melisse was hard against him. She pressed herself close and urged her mouth on his. It was a lovely, erotic kiss, all up and down their lengths.
"Cully," she said, whispering, "do it to me!" He felt a shiver and an electric jolt in his balls. But he said, "What?" This time it was even more intense: "Fuck me!" Another jolt! He squeezed her upper arms, hard.
"Melisse," he said just as intensely, "get naked. Show me your nekkid body, woman!"
Grinning, she got naked quickly, stepping back so he could watch and letting her clothes drop and lie where they fell. And then she was gloriously, intoxicatingly naked.
"Oh shit, woman ... you-are-beautiful!"
"For you. I want you. Get naked?"
He held his arms straight and out on either side. "You do it!"
With a flashing grin, she nodded. She came hurrying to him with hair and big rolling breasts bouncing. He stood there happily, trembling a little with his whole body enveloped in sexual excitement and anticipation, while she undressed him with nimble but restlessly quivering and inexpert fingers. His pecker came out in the process of filling up with blood, swinging pendulously, coming more and more erect in jerking little spasms.
Then he crushed her to him. His mouth enveloped hers. Her warm tits felt great against his chest. He did his best to squash the bursting vitality of those massy melons with himself, to burn a hole in the gentle curve of her belly with his tool. It could not have been more erect now, had he just slogged through ten orgasm-less days ... rather than less than twenty-four hours! She squirmed against that hot bar of complete maleness.
"Um! That ... that's so hot, Cully!"
"That's why people say so-and-so has hot pants, luv."
She giggled and rubbed her belly against his prick. Then, "Cully ... darling..."
"Hmm?"
"Show me ... something different, Cully."
"You mean like screwing while standing on our heads in the shower?"
She giggled. "You think we could?"
That made him chuckle. "We're not going to find out! Come along, m'love, and he down on the bed."
"That doesn't sound different, but ... yessir!" She hurried to the bed and stretched on it in a way that surprised him: suggestively, invitingly, gazing at him. He was glad now that this morning had happened and that he had blown off. It had obviously helped her a lot; he could practically hear her inner barriers smashing.
Her hand touched the pale patch of curly hair between her legs and she shivered. She drew the hand away. "Cully? I'm all wet!"
He went, smiling, to the bed. "And I'm all hard. That's the way we both belong, hot and hard and wet. Let's stay that way!"
"God yes ... darling? What are you doing?'
He was on the floor, on his knees. His hands closed on her legs and began tugging them over to the edge of the bed, opening them to flank his head. He pulled, opening her more and more, parting her thighs and then her delicate pink labia until he had displayed the gaping wound of her eager vaginal mouth.
My eager little pussy mouth, Cully thought.
"I'm going to taste your wetness, sweetheart."
"Oh ... oh, Cully ... Cully-y..."
"Hush. You want something different, something new-to you. All right, this is something new to you, and well both love it. Melisse: I'm going to eat you."
"C-Cully ... Cully-y-yeee . .
His face was at a level with the raw, sex-pink flesh of her furry cleft. As he watched with gleaming eyes and smiling face, the puffy-lipped slit slowly widened before the pressure of his fingers. The wet, heated petals were bare and parted now for his tongue's entry into the gleaming flesh-slice they flanked.
"Darling," she gasped, "I don't think I wanummm-aahhh!" She sighed at the lovely sensation of his breath, caressing the up-bulging mound. Just that was enough to send a definite shudder through her.
Then he dipped his tongue into her. It slipped into the ripe beauty of that slash and began swirling and swishing from side to side. Strong tremors shook her and she curled her fingers into the bedsheet. Her belly began surging rapidly up and down in paroxysms of pleasure. Control of her body passed from her. She began jerking her hips frantically and hoisting her pelvis as his tongue moved inside her. The wet stem of titillating flesh wiggled, sunk in her to the roots of his tongue.
He began tonguing hell out of her.
"Cully, Cully, oh my God, darling, oh, that'sAH!-that's wonderful, that feels so good, it's mar-vel-IEEEE!-oh Cully, oh darling my darl-Ah, ah ... good GOD darling, too much, so good, Jesus Christ, oh my God, oh CHRIST, darling oh, oh, OOHHH C-Cu-Cully-y ... oh God, ohh ... COCK! Cock, cock, fuck cunt oh screw oh fuck aahhh..."
Her wild cries grew increasingly out of control and increasingly lewd as she nailed herself up and down and the tickling, teasing, slurping sensations in her sex-gap became nearly overwhelming. She slid into an unrestrained wantonness that was as alien to her as the sensations, the experience of having a mouth in her crotch, a tongue in her pussy. Moving constantly in uncontrollable agitation, she sought increasingly lascivious ways of trying to express her rhapsodic gratification.
"Jesus Christ, oh, SHIT, Cully it's fan-TAS-tic I love your tongue up my-my cunt!"
He smiled around his mouthful of pussy. He had made her love it, and now he fed his own passions. His tongue was licking, squishing, darting and slicking into her sexual crack, tasting the mucousy juice seeping profligately forth from her intimate interior. He made slurping noises as he soothed her vaginal vestibule, damping its fires with his saliva.
She writhed and her entire body shook in the soaring sensuous delight of his frankly ardent licking.
The pump up-thrusts of her round, extravagantly eminent breasts rushed up and down above her panting lungs. She shivered and groaned and jerked her sleekly naked legs.
He drank the nectar of her pussy, used his tongue to work her pulsing throbbing clit in experienced manipulations, and he inhaled deeply of the female aroma of her humid gap. Intent on her oozing cunt, he did not even see her grasping her own tits, squeezing those juicily rounded jugs and tweaking and tugging up their long, swollen tips. She stared blindly at the ceiling. Her breaths emerged hot and hard and loud from her helplessly open mouth. Her thighs flexed hard and her body pumped up and down. She tried to call out his name-and couldn't
His delving tongue triggered an overwhelming response in her. Her belly convulsed and twitched spastically. Tidal waves of passion kept rolling over her, inside her, popping loose in her hotly clasping vaginal burrow. She groaned, stiffening and then collapsing all over in a joyous abandonment to the Utopian orgasm that came close to overwhelming her.
More than one minute passed before she recovered.
Then she hurled herself up into a sitting position and bent forward to grasp his dark head.
"Ah, dear-GOD, Cully! Beautiful, wonderful! Oh, darling, I came so BIG! Jesus-what shall I do for you? Do you want me to jump out the window? Follow you all over Miami Beach on my knees?"
"No, doll," he murmured, "just fuck me."
He had to explain, though briefly, and urge her, and then he was on the bed on his back, and she was poised atop his outstretched thighs. Her eyes were wide with excitement and her big breasts heaved up and down. Biting her lips, using both hands, she positioned the mossy playground of her genitals in a lovely, parted display above his cock. It stood high, rearing its proud, red-crowned head beneath her slightly parted cunt
The delicate lips touched the inflexibly upstanding tool. Both of them shuddered at the warm sexual contact. She stared fixedly down at him.
Tuck me," he said quietly. "Sit on it. Squat on it, darling, and get ready for a bellyful!"
His words sent a long shiver through her. Slowly she sank onto it, easing her moist, seething crevice down his cock. She groaned and rocked with an ecstasy of pleasurable pain as she felt her body spread and flower around the mighty pole of his prick. It came up into her, and into her, for in this position she absolutely cock-stuffed herself. Then her warm ass-cheeks rested on his thighs.
The big shaft had vanished up inside her. She felt the hairs of his legs tickling her buttocks and the sensitive lips of her vulva. Her cunt had swallowed him.
He smiled up at her and reached out to smooth his hands over her thighs and bent knees. "Yesterday a virgin, today a cunt-stuffed cowgirl! Ride that cock, cowgirl! It's all yours."
He grinned, seeing her lustful shivers and knowing that their love, their activities, and his words were smashing the last useless, anti-humanity, parent-instilled barriers of her reticence.
She began moving. Riding him. Her eyes shone with unrestrained lust and her joggling tits pranced bouncily before her as if on springs.
"Ride it, girl!" Cully husked, feeling himself jamming deep and his balls tightening with lust "Ride it, and a little later I'll cram it in you again to fuck your beautiful pussy, and sometime, in the morning, maybe you'll hold those fantastic titties of yours around it and watch me spurt on them, semen all over your pretty breasts, Melisse, and maybe about this time tomorrow-or maybe in a restaurant, with you under the table, hmm?-you'll slide your mouth over hot fat dick for the first time, and you'll either swallow it or I'll jack off into a glass and pour it down your gullet. Then-"
"Oh, dear GOD, Cully, I've never been so hot in my LIFE! With you talking like that-I want it, I want all of it, I want cock, cock-I want to go WILD!"
"Go wild then," he smiled, but she didn't need any more encouragement.
She bounced up and down that way, just as she'd said: wildly. She began shakily, but now she was fucking him beautifully, with the completely abandoned enthusiasm of a lust that had long awaited lighting. He lay beneath her and loved it, was crazy about the dangling jig and joggle of her big flopping tits.
"And the floor," he said, reaching up to grasp her bouncing breasts and press them firmly. "The floor! Well fuck on the floor, in chairs, in the shower, in the kitchen sink, fuck and fuck and FUCK, Melisse!"
"AAHHH!" she cried as he jammed himself upward into her and she felt a harsh pressure on her cervix. She jerked on it, increasing the pressure.
"Oh God, yes, ALL that, darling ... and this, this, more of this! I can move, darling, sitting on you this way I can move, I'm FUCKING you, screwing you, Cully, fucking you-"
She bounced wildly up and down, and he felt the pressure that meant he was soon going to shoot more of his hot juice up into this magnificently constructed and fully turned-on woman he had married. They were married, they were lovers, the barriers were broken, and it was going to be beautiful.
CHAPTER FOUR
Carole Hartman had not seen her brother and new sister-in-law since they'd come back from their honeymoon. She was trying hard to put her brother out of her mind and keep him out.
The job at the bank was going fine. She had broken it off with Ron, who had the imagination of a snail. She loved her university night-class in Econ & Banking, and the dark, hairy teacher was a doll. She entertained fantasies about him, picturing him when she brought herself off on the new sheets of the bed in her new apartment.
His name was Brian Silone. He wore a beard that he kept closely trimmed, a mustache, and rather curly hair that looked like he cut it himself. Hair, beard, and mustache were all dark brown, though there were occasional glints of red under the classroom lights. He was no taller than Carole, was perhaps ten years older than her nineteen, and had a rather eaglish look about his nose. His clothes were OK, and nothing more; obviously he paid little attention to clothing. He seemed a quiet man, inward-turned, with deep-set, almost-black eyes and large hairy hands.
After the third session of the once-weekly class, Carole managed to linger long enough to be there when he came out of the building. She already knew that he'd be going her way. She lived only three blocks from the campus, and he had a faculty apartment just under two blocks away. She knew that he walked, but drove a VW with a bent aerial when it rained.
It wasn't really that he walked her home that night; they walked together. They talked, each impressing the other with intelligence and maturity. Professor and student; Mister Silone and Miss Hartman.
"Oh-are you into being called Ms.? " he asked, pronouncing it "mmzzz."
"Couldn't care less. I think it's cute, maybe a little too precious. I'm into being called Carole, mostly."
He didn't suggest in turn that she call him Brian, although he was careful to learn that she wasn't a full-time student, and she that he wasn't married. He touched her hand at her door, and went on.
Carole went inside, stripped and flopped, opened her cunt, and fingered herself off while thinking about Brian Silone. She bet he was a hairy so-and-so under his clothing ... like ... like Cully. And, helplessly, she thought about him, too. She wondered if it was as good for him and his titsy blonde bride as it had been for him and her: him and me. Cully and Carole. Brother and sister. All over ... no more fuckin' with Cully ... Brian, oh, ohhhhbrianbriancvllybrian...
She came, and she slept.
George Sheen, a vice president at the bank, wanted to take her out. He leered; looked like the kind of guy who watched the Dean Martin show and thought that was what sex was about. One of those tall, handsome men who assumed he was irresistible ... particularly with a bank vice presidency. (Despite the fact that there were nine VPs.) She pointed out that he was married, and he stepped up his grinning entreaties. He also reminded her that he had a nice job.
"Yes, I do have a nice position here, Mister Sheen," she said, "and I'm going to have a better one. Mister Harkins has progressive ideas, like about women in banking. I'm doing a good job, too. I figure I have to-after all, my brother married Mister Hark-ham's niece."
That got rid of George Sheen.
The following week Brian walked her home after class again. They stood outside her door and talked quite awhile, and before he left, he gave her a small, swift kiss. Carole took the kiss and a vision of his face to bed with her, and rubbed herself, thinking that if she didn't do something about her sex life soon she was going to have to call Cully or hang around bars downtown. But damn, she thought, if I did that I'd probably have to charge! That would ruin my amateur standing . ...
On her way home from work the following day she bought a fat cucumber, and she shivered every time she thought about going to bed with it. She did, taking the cucumber and a book she'd found in an adult bookstore, My Sister, My Lover. The book was lousy and the cucumber wasn't all that satisfying, sliding in and out of wide open and squelching snatch. She considered trying one of the knobbier kind.
One of the guys in her class called and asked her for a date. She went, accepted his fondling in the movie, but afterwards refused to go home with him to a couple of rooms he shared with two other guys. He took her to a motel, and she got herself reamed out and got her rocks off. The sex was pretty good. The trouble was, the guy was a dummy. Carole wished she hadn't accepted in the first place, since they had the night class together.
She wondered why he wasn't there the following week, and learned that he'd dropped the class. She grinned-wonder why? A little scared of a girl who comes on like I do?
Brian walked her home, asked her to dinner Saturday night, and gave her a pretty decent goodnight kiss. She asked him in.
"Got to get home and prepare for a class tomorrow, thanks, Mi-Carole. That was a goodnight kiss, not a prelude. Goodnight."
Clunk, she thought, going inside. Intelligent men who can talk are nice ... but wow, this one's sharper'n I am. But ... I like the way he said that. Very matter-of-fact. He kissed me, and when I asked him in after, it was obviously an invitation for more. Rather than playing around or pretending, he let me know he recognized the invitation, and was busy.
Damn, I hope that was the only reason he turned me down!
Now what do I wear Saturday night?
Hmm ... dressy, maybe a little sexy, but not too imagine, because Mister Brian Sitone just doesn't seem to have time for clothes-consciousness!
She was right. He wore the same suit he'd had on the night of the class, with a tie he'd worn the previous week, and the pants were far from sharply creased. It wasn't that he was sloppy or had soup stains, or anything like that. He merely radiated a general unawareness of clothing, seemed to feel that they were a necessary evil to cover nakedness.
At the last minute she reached back to unzip the high-necked dress of rust-colored jersey. Instead she wore the round-necked black with long sleeves. It wasn't pushy, it didn't show anything but chest unless she bent well forward, but ... she winked at the mirror and tickled the crease between her breasts ... it was easy to get into!
He walked her out to the VW, started to get in, then popped around to hold the door for her.
"It's all right," she said. I'm self-sufficient."
"Got to pretend to be a gentleman," he said, giving her a look with those intense, intensely dark eyes that she realized was a mouth-less smile, and she chuckled and nodded.
He took her to Hausen's, which was supposed to have good steaks and featured a menu containing the names of different lands of beer.
"The trouble with a woman telling a guy what she wants is that she'd really rather gauge her order by what he's having. So what are you?"
He had been holding the menu for about thirty seconds. He folded it and laid it aside. 'Tossed salad, heavy on oil and light on vinegar. Sirloin strip, medium, french fries instead of baked potato. Green beans. Coffee."
The waitress was there. 'Td like some coffee about as fast as I can get it, please," Brian said, and the woman blinked, nodded. She looked at Carole.
"Would you like a drink before dinner, Miss?"
Carole looked at Brian. Yea she'd love a martini. He said, "Coffee, that's it for me," and Carole decided to go the cafe route until she knew why he wasn't having a cocktail. "A glass of tomato juice with a little Tabasco in," she said to the woman, and to Brian, "Same order for me, please, but medium-rare on the steak."
The waitress was already writing, but Brian repeated it anyhow.
The steak was good. The beans were restaurant beans: flavored with water and salt. The french fries were restaurant french fries: too hard on the outside and too soft on the inside. But the meat was good, and she had coffee, too, and they talked a little about the subject of last week's class, because she'd had an idea there. She was wrong, and they went on into economics, Milton Friedman, J. K. Galbraith, and from there into politics.
Brian shrugged. "McGovern came on being extreme, got badly shown up by Humphrey in the California primary, but somehow got the nomination anyhow. Because he was extreme, way over there on the left, he already had a third or half his party against him. Later on he tried to say he was a centrist, but everybody knew better."
"And Nixon played emperor " she said, "wearing his purple robes and staying in the palace."
"I can't fault him for that. He knew he had it; McGovern was busily beating himself. Damned if Td come out and get into the arena with the gloves on if I'd been in his situation! A debate would've been nice and all that-but he was smart."
"And Spiro's a heartbeat away from the Presidency!"
He winced at the cliche. "Yeah ... like Shriver would have been. How do you feel about President Shriver?"
She made a face. "I feel like talking about something else!"
"Read any good books lately?"
She laughed aloud. "Who cares? I don't know you. Silone's Italian, isn't it?"
"Oh lord, very."
"Do you have a godfather?"
Brian laughed. "Yes, but not with a capital g! I mean, I was born Catholic, and the Church requires that ritual. Parents have to pick out godparents and put them out to come to the baptism. Preferably, the godmother and godfather aren't married to each other, a different set for each kid."
She chuckled. "Some of those big families ... those people must run out."
"Probably," Brian said. "The godparents swear to raise the kid as a good Catholic if anything happens to his folks. That can get funny. like, when I was five, my godfather got a divorce from his frigid bitch of a wife and married a balloon-fat woman named Sara Strauss. The Church doesn't even recognize that marriage; as far as the old men in Italy are concerned, Jack and Sara are living together in sin. And if he decided to throw her over and return to his wife-Jesus, fat chancel-the Church would forgive with delight. Jack and Sara are still happy as honey-mooners. Now my godmother is a Mass-every-morning widow with five miserable children, all married. She has nineteen grandchildren."
"Good grief," Carole said. "And what about you, Brian."
He turned his glass around and around in his fingers. "Me, I'm an apostate. I ... resigned, several years ago. I think the R. C. Church is just plain wrong about a lot of things, morally wrong, and I don't want to be a part of it. I didn't sign up anywhere else, I sleep on Sundays. Probably always will, since I don't feel any guilt about it."
"Guilt?" She loved hearing him talk, watching him talk. And all on coffee, water, and un-Cola!
"Yeah ... there's another guy on the faculty with me, Carole, name's Mark Gould, who quit his religion but feels guilty about it. I keep advising him to go back. A different synagogue, maybe. Or Episcopalian, Humanism, or something. People who still believe and feel guilty about their Sundays, should just stay in, keep on going to church. I'm not advocating religion, just whatever feels right." He leaned back and reached for a cigarette. "That's enough Brian Silone on religion, Carole. You?"
She shrugged and began using her cigarette butt to rearrange the ashes and stubs in the ashtray. "Parents are Baptists," she said. "One day a week; the rest of the week they act like they hate each other and most other people. Dad's a salesman who brags about how he screws his company and his customers."
"Oh-they're good Christians, then!"
She laughed, nodding. "Yeah. AH form. Anyhow, my brother and I just don't believe, for starts. But I go ... sometimes ... to keep my parents off my back. He and his wife do, too-my brother, I mean. But to Calvary Methodist." She heaved a sigh. "He married the niece of a bank president, see. He's a Methodist and so is Cully's boss, at P&G."
He nodded. "Yeah. That's about where organized religion is at, in this country-damn! Getting hard to hear in here!"
She looked around. A group of people in their forties had entered, and they were noisy. All were giggly-high. She reached over and touched Brian's hand. "Let's go. Come on-let's go over to my place.
He nodded, got up to do his old-fashioned thing: pulling back her chair, and they paid and left He held the front door for her, too, and walked on the outside, and also opened the car door and closed her in. Carole didn't mind a bit, and she certainly didn't feel demeaned by it. She was perfectly capable, but if that was Brian's thing, she wouldn't interfere. Besides, it wasn't at all unpleasant!
They drove over to her place, went up holding hands, and she offered him a drink, than told him she thought she'd just have some wine. He was taking off his coat
"No thanks. Any pop in the house?"
"Uh-some TEEM, and a couple of Cokes ... Brian? Don't you drink at all?"
"Sure. Coffee, water, pop, milk every now and then . ... "
She laughed, opening and handing him his TEEM. "You know what I mean."
"No," he said, as they went into the living room, "no, I don't drink anything alcoholic." She sat on the couch, but rather than joining her, he sat in the big old skirted chair facing her. They used the same couch end-table for their drinks and ashtray.
She shook her head. "Nothing at all? Wow-and you were raised Catholic?"
"Yeah," he said, laughing, "but don't forget, I'm a dropout." Then his face sobered, all in an instant, and he looked straight at her with those deep-set eyes. In this pale light they were like black holes with a faint, liquid sparkle. "I don't drink because I was an alcoholic at age twenty-one, Carole. At twenty-three I woke up one morning in a hospital. I was getting my food through tubes sticking out of me, and I was unemployed and unemployable. I had a long talk with myself, and told the doc and the hospital shrink I wanted off the sauce and needed help. The shrink told me to go to Alcoholics Anonymous. That wasn't easy, let me tell you ... but I did."
"Brian-"
"Yeah, I know, I don't have to tell you." He made a hush-up gesture. "But I am. So ... I went. AA is like a religion. All those people confessing what scum they used to be, before they saw the light and 'got saved.' A guy there took a lot of interest in me. That happens quite a bit, I think. He gave me a job with his company. There was also a girl ... well, we became, ah, intimate. I stayed off sauce, started taking night classes, and at the end of that year he told me to enroll full-time. I was doing fine in school, and he had night and weekend work I could do. So I spent five years working four nights a week, all day Saturday and Sunday afternoons, while I got my degree and my Master's."
"Whew! And-and the girl?"
Blinking, Brian looked down. "She ... relapsed. We were living together. I was working all the time, and studying, and she wanted some excitement. She shoved her mug back into a bottle, and that was that. I tried, she blew up, I blew up, we had a scene, and when I got home the next night she was gone."
Carole leaned forward to touch his knee. "Oh Brian ... did you love her?"
He gazed into her eyes, thinking about that. Then he gave his head one brief shake. "Evidently not," he said, and there was silence for awhile.
At last she took away her hand and leaned back, thinking: the depth of this man! The strength! I had no idea! He's really come from nothing and nowhere-by his own bootstraps and guts!
"This's my first teaching job," Brian said. "And don't feel put-upon because you're in night school. So am I, and I have a three-hour class every Saturday too. Working on my doctorate."
"Lord-still striving! Why?"
Teaching's what I want to do. I like it! I think I'm good at it"
"So do I!"
He gave her a sideways look and a little smile. "You're going to get the B you deserve, Miss Hartman, not an A, so hush-brown-nose! Anyhow, you're striving too, with a job in a bank and taking a night course to better yourself, right?"
She nodded, smiling. It occurred to her, very suddenly, that she really dug Brian Silone. So he sleeps in on Sundays, hmmP Well, in less than an hour it'll be Sunday!
"A doctorate," he told her, "brings more money. More respect; colleges are high on imaginary values. A minimally smart, minimally competent teacher with a doctorate is much more Valuable' than a genius with an MA and a great way in the classroom. I'm neither ... but I'll get that PhD."
"I have no doubt," she said quietly, wishing she could quit thinking sexy. She had an abrupt wild flash, a mental picture: seeing herself falling back on the couch, snapping her legs open and saying "Ball me, Strong Man!" The damned guy was rousing her just by his presence, fucking her mind with words! Her belly, her innards, her cunt were warm, a sexual animal straining at its leash.
He's good for me, she thought. He's teaching me that sexuality isn't all bodies and hot balling. But her body wasn't too happy about the lesson. It wanted what was good for it, and to hell with her mind and personality!
"No," he was saying, and she remembered that she'd said he was strong, and made it into a question to be answered. "No, I'm just smart enough to know my own weaknesses. And stop ignoring your wine! Christ, it doesn't bother me for others to drink! I don't dare, but it puts me off for others to pretend, because they're around me."
She started to reach for her wine, touched the glass, then tilted her head to give him a look from beneath her lashes. "What about my breath, or-"
"The taste of wine on your lips?" he asked, coming forward in his chair. "Hoho-that's my secret." With a hand on her shoulder, he tugged her willing face near and gave her a brief peck on the lips. "Umm ... that's good wine!"
She laughed, picked up the wine and emptied the glass, then licked her lips. "I need a drink of water," she said. "You?"
"No, I think I'll just move onto the couch and he in wait for you."
"Good!" she said, although the lancing little shiver of excitement that scuttled through her made her momentarily weak, and she barely got the word out. She drank her water fast and tried not to look as if she were hurrying as she returned to him. He was sitting on the couch, watching her, wearing a small smile.
"Wanna neck?"
She laughed, nearly breaking up. "Yep. Want less light?"
"Couldn't care less," he said, leaning forward with a jerk and snapping out his hand to catch her wrist. He gave a swift tug and she made a squeaky sound as she was pulled off balance. She piled onto his thighs, slipping an arm quickly around him to keep from crushing them both.
"Quick" he murmured, and she felt his mustache and beard on her cheek. "Wine, wine!"
The kiss began with him smiling and Carole laughing, but as it deepened and lengthened, biology-and something akin to electricity-took over. It became a serious business. They both made urgent little humming moans as they began to treat each other's mouths like food to be devoured.
"Oh, Carole," he said, and she said his name too, with no thought of corn or time worn cliche. How many things were there to say? She was pressing herself against him, deliberately ramming with her hard breasts, and running her hands all up and down his back and arms. His hands were playing the same roaming game over her back.
He disengaged their mouths to give her a startled look. His fingers probed about over her back.
"You-there's no strap back here!"
She shook her head, smiling, watching him, waiting. The wild animal between her legs was growling, opening its mouth wide. It was slavering, too.
"But I thought-you have to be wearing a bra!"
She cocked her head. "Rules?"
"No no," he said, almost laughing. "Your-your figure-the way you look!"
'"sme," she said, pleased. "I never wear a-well, hardly ever. It depends on the clothes, and the fabric. You know-with stretch-knit shirts, that sort of thing, I usually do."
"Be damned," he said, wagging his head, and she saw that he was serious. "You're not flat after all!"
Because he was serious, she thought it was funny.
Laughing, she pulled away from him, stood up. He looked up rather nervously, thinking he'd offended her. Instead, she showed him. Standing in front of him, she bent way over, until her hands were on his thighs. That way he could look into the scooped-out front of her black dress and see the white cones of her breasts, dark-tipped and slightly elongated as she bent. He looked, all right.
"Beautiful!" he said fervently, and he kissed the hollow of her neck, and then her chest.
"That as far down as you're gonna kiss, Doubting Thomas?"
"That's as far down as I can loss," he said. "My head won't fit in there."
Carole kissed the top of his head, straightened, and loved the things his face did as he watched her reach behind herself. The zipper of her dress zinged down. She folded her arms across her chest, took hold of her dress on either side, smiled at him, and peeled the dress off her shoulders. For a moment she stood there, exposed to below the waist, her dress caught and bunched at her hips. She watched him watch her, enjoying the appreciation in his eyes, along with his surprise.
Then she put a knee onto the couch beside him and leaned in, wrapping her arms around his head and pulling his face into the warm, perfumed valley between her tits.
Further encouragement was not necessary. He swung his arms around her hips, clamped, and kissed. Dipping his face between the white peaks, he inhaled their aroma while he let his tongue rove over tight skin like silk. A lovely, soothing feeling coursed blissfully through her and she sighed, clutching him close with both arms around his head. Arching her back hungrily to offer the surging swells to his eager mouth, she quivered with little tremors of anticipatory delight.
Then she moaned when he tried to swallow one satin-covered cone. Her nipples prickled, starting to stiffen and enlarge. He grabbed one nice tight erection in his mouth and seemed to be trying to milk it. She sighed aloud and bent her head to kiss the thick hair on the top of his head. His hand slid up to grasp the velvety underside of one exquisitely firm, conical breast. He massaged it rhythmically while he sucked its taut crest, feeding and feeding it into his mouth.
Removing, one hand from his head, she slid it down over his shirtfront. Finding a rudimentary male nipple beneath, she began scratching and lightly pinching it. Herself squirming and emitting little moans, she delighted in his swift, gasping-writhing response. She's thought so; Cully had always liked-no, loved-having his nipples played with, with fingers and mouth, as much as she, and-
Cully, shit! she thought almost angrily.
"Umm," she sighed, "oh Brian ... that's ... lovely!"
With his face surrounded by tit flesh and her arms, his voice came back muffled: "Yes, they're lovely! And that ... feels ... good. Maybe we're-um!" He shivered at a sharp little pinch to his shirt-covered nipple. She was barely able to get hold of the tiny lump. "Maybe we're both tit-freaks!"
"It's ... not going to be enough," she sighed, moving her shoulders to rub her tits against his face. She could feel his beard, his mustache, that big nose of his, his mouth, his tongue-his mouth ... MOUTH! TONGUE!
He caught hold of her, dragged her off him and then held her across his legs, her neck cradled in his left arm and her body stretched along the couch to his right. That hand stroked freely over both almost-hard swells of her tits while he merged their mouths. She pressed close, going after his mouth, sucking his tongue into the heat of her mouth and sending little shudders of pleasure through him. Shivers assailed her, too; his breast-loving hand was making the bulging naked flesh squirm and quiver in her sighing delight. Feeling a duck, hard pressure beneath her at the base of her back, she smiled. She squirmed deliberately, rubbing his swollen crotch with herself.
He jerked, groaned, rammed his tongue deep, and applied pressure with his hand. His fingers began hungrily kneading her full-tipped tits, tweaking and tugging and twisting the pink berries into an erectness that came close to painfulness. She gasped and jerked. Quivers shook her and she gnawed at his lower lip.
She was breathing hard, her eyes shuttered so low beneath her long, long lashes they were nearly closed and invisible. He was hurting her a little, making her tight tits throb painfully ... and yet she was also aware of the ecstasy that was coursing through her from his suddenly harsh manipulations.
Her breasts throbbed, her untouched cunt salivated, and she knew its clitoral nipple was twitching just as tumultuously as her tits. Her breathing came fast and her tiny belly heaved up and down. It was very warm inside, and below that she was more than warm. She heard one of her shoes hit the floor as she squirmed, pushing at the couch with both feet. Then his hand was sliding down from her twitching tits, trailing a path of warmth down over her belly. She hunched eagerly to assure him that she wanted those warm fingers, that gliding palm inside her rumpled dress. It went in, and it felt even hotter as it pressed and caressed her. Smooth, warm hands stroked over her panties, plastered the thin fabric to her fleshy, resilient cunt.
"Ah-AHHNGNNNNHHHH!" she groaned when he touched it.
Her entire body seemed to burst into flame. She gave her hips a violent upward lunge that threatened to cram his fingers through the tissue-thin nylon and into her throbbing, thirsty pussy. One joint was crushed firmly against her unsheathed clitoris-and Carole came, on the instant. Her head went light inside and desperately heavy outwardly. Only his arm behind her neck held her up. Her long lithe body jerked and quivered. Flaming swords passed through her belly and her churning cunt. She bucked, hearing his groan but unable to stop pounding his bulging crotch with her buttocks. She felt perspiration streaming suddenly from both armpits and down the valley of her breasts; it happened every time she came.
Then she was limp, and soft and happy and ready to be drilled all the way up the middle until she could taste cunt-buried cock in her throat. She took a long, long deep breath and let it out with luxurious slowness.
Holding her by the hip and the back of her head, he pulled her face roughly up to his. He kissed her softly and released her when she tried to make it a hard kiss of grinding passion. Then he was pushing her up, into a sitting position, and scrambling off the couch.
She spun around. "Brian!"
He had the door open. He didn't turn back. He closed the door firmly behind him, but without slamming it.
She sat there dumbstruck. Her teeth started to chatter. Then she realized what it must be, and a smile broke sunnily out all over her face. She swung around on the couch to peer out the front window. It had to be! Of course, that's it; he had rubbers in the car, and he had galloped after them! Yes, he was opening the door, sliding in on the driver's side, but surely so that he could lean over and open the-
He drove off.
Carole sat there and stared out at the darkness. Her body quivered, then began shuddering, and she started to cry. She was utterly confused, somehow, ridiculously, feeling ashamed, and smashed. She had taken a gut-blow squarely in the femininity, and it was awful!
By the time she dropped into bed, after downing over three ounces of Scotch in no more than ten minutes, she was woozy and muttering angrily to herself.
"B-bastard! Poor damned shitty goddamned bastard-d-d! He's afraid-I-I-I bet he never touched a real woman before, I-I'D b-bet the ba-a-astard can't even make it! He's IMPOTENT, that's it!"
But she started to cry again, and she was still crying when the Scotch put her mercifully to sleep.
She didn't awake until she heard a noise and looked up with a jerk, seeing, at the same time, both that it was light outside and that Brian Silone was standing over her bed.
CHAPTER FIVE
"BRIAN!"
"I-"
"What the hell are you DOING in here?"
"I'm going to fuck you!"
"How the hell did you get IN?"
"You didn't lock the door after me. I-"
"WHAT DID YOU SAY?" She jerked up into a sitting position, feeling a surge of blood in her head and thinking, somewhere in the back of her mind, Damn that Scotch!
"I said you didn't lock the-"
"NoNo, BEFOBE that!" Her heart was pounding.
His face became strangely stern and his black coals of eyes stared down at her out of their deep hollows. He wore a striped shirt, open at the neck-and with a lot of hair curling out-and jeans. And he was opening his belt buckle.
"I said I'm going to fuck you, Carole."
"You ... I-well, WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU LAST NIGHT?"
"Because I'm crazy."
"Oh well, that's cool. You damned near drove ME crazy, just taking off that way, and after ... after bringing me ... off...."
"I'm sorry." His hands had frozen. No, they hadn't; they came alive and opened the buckle. "I thought-I got shook. I thought things were going too far too fast. I told you about Jean."
"Jean?" She pummeled the bed with her fists. "JEAN? NO, you did NOT tell me about any Jean!"
"Yes, I did-the girl I lived with-"
"Oh, yeah, and she went back into sauce and took off, and so you think we're going to live together and I'm going to drink and drink and then take off and you'll be burned, is that it?"
"No ... yes ... partially that. The point is I was bumed, and it hurt. I didn't tell you that I loved her. I did. I made a rule about-about my future."
"Then you should wear a sign. People have no right to have rules about their lives without letting other people know what the rules are."
He opened his pants. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about this, too. But I'm going to fuck you now."
She blinked. "You ... just tell me: I'm going to fuck you now.' You've said that about eighty-six times. Not make love to me, not fuck with me, and you're not asking or suggesting, hmm? Just-telling me, is that it? My God! You've burst into my apartment ... busted into my bedroom-and now you're going toto RAPE me?"
"That's right."
He dropped his pants. It sprang out as if released by a spring. One of those rigidly, strainedly back-curved cocks that resemble an unstrung bow or a dangerous horn of some sort. It stood up powerfully, rigidly, prepuce drawn almost tight in the violent erection of the stem, and fat, canopied knob naked and purple-red and sheened at the tip with the ooze of things to come.
She stared at that cock. She quivered just as it did, with the violence of swift-pulsing blood.
"Oh well, Christ then, if I'm gonna be raped I guess I might as well try to relax and bear it. Hurry up with your shirt." And she flopped back on the bed to show him her genitals as he exposed his, lying there with her legs well-apart in dissolute display of the upsurging bowl shape of her mound, covered with a veritable forest of twining, gleaming black hair like silken threads slightly parted to show the fleshy sheath and its moist pink lips. They were a deep rose-pink that could easily be called red, and they looked violently blood-engorged and randy.
His own dark sex-shaft jumped and swung wildly before him as he doffed the shirt to show her what she had suspected; a thickly made Italian body darkened by an overgrowth of jet-black hair. The nipple she had tweaked last night was nearly invisible in its bed of black fur. A thickish line ran up his belly from his crotch to his navel, where it thinned to less than pencil-width, but ran on up to join the mat of his chest.
All that brain, she thought and all this man-body, too!
Then he came onto the bed. "You'd better be open and ready and wet," he said in that quiet voice, this time almost a snarl. "Because you're about to get your kidneys prodded."
Talk talk talk, brag brag brag-ggAHHH!"
His full length poled in, went in and came in and in and into her until it had disappeared all the way to his hairy scrotal sac. She felt it snap in between her thighs to strike the slick furrow between her abruptly stuffed cunt and her anus. The definite feeling of inner fullness, of strong distending of her membranous cuntal walls and the Mongol-conqueror way he went about it, brought that loud cry from her, and kept her shivering and sighing. His hairy chest smacked her breasts and rubbed her nipples.
All of it gave her over to a thoroughly voluptuous feeling of sexual stimulation that suffused her face with joy and made her ass tighten up beneath her. She had to fight her own hands; they went after his back like talons.
There! Do you feel that? Can you feel that, all that cock up your pussy, Carole? Can you?"
"FEEL it! God, yes! Oh God, yes, I can feel it! I feel like a virgin. How dare you go around packing all that monster of a harpoon between your legs and not share it?"
"Jesus," he said, closing his eyes and showing her the ghost of a grin. "The least you could do is pretend a little resistance, a little anger at being barged in and crammed full of cock! Where the hell's your pride?"
"Eek," she said in a conversational tone. "Help o-help rape." She thumped his shoulders with the heels of her hands and thrummed her feet on the bed. "Agh, agh, and argghP She met his eyes with her bright gaze; her own dark eyes glowed like wells full of moonlight. "How's that?"
"You're hopeless. Damn! I've wanted to do this since the first time I saw you."
"Why in shit didn't you then?"
"Eight there in the classroom? Those floors are hard!"
She giggled, a rather strained sound beneath his full weight.
"And now I finally get to fuck you blind and bow-legged."
"Talk talk talk."
His bare ass started thrusting hard, rocking and thumping and humping between her slim, shapely thighs. Their bellies moved slickly against each other. The grip of her firm-lipped cunt all around his cock, swollen and solid, seemed to suck at him in juicy, writhing, erotic need. He pumped hard into the girl quivering and twitching beneath him, sprawling on the creaking bed in an orgy of cock-into-cunt.
A violent surge of passion made her shiver and long for more, for a continuation, a permanency of this blind hard banging of her body. Her hips thrashed back and forth in frenzied lust. Driving in deep and then grinding around, he made her wail before he eased nearly all the way out of her with a long, gentle glide.
"Jesus oh God! I think you just punctured my womb!"
"Shut up. Rapee not talk! Lie there and get fucked, cunt!"
"Yessir yessir, fuck, fuck, punch another hole!" She shuddered and moaned in the exquisite sensations that enveloped her and sent hot messages of carnality up into her belly. She kept moving her hands over him, her fingers pressing and pulling. She couldn't get enough of the feel of his flailing, hairy body.
He ground into that longing wet hole she elevated with hunching hips, and she gasped as the full length of his driving bone plowed forcefully in her vaginal furrow and knocked again at the very doorway of her womb. Its swollen, broad head was churning up the boiling juices inside her, and she could feel it happening, and it was wonderful!
He was a sex machine atop her, a carnal engine fueled by passion and driven by the desire to blow his balls. The great skewering stalk of his cock wallowed and throbbed in the tightly clasping hole of her crotch, like a piston in its well-oiled chamber. He ground it in and jerked his hips, aching to pump her full of semen.
Pop pop pop, she felt the little orgasms going off in her belly like hot popcorn. She surged up and down in search of more.
"Uh-oooAAHl" he groaned, then cried out, coming in a fury.
The milkish fluid of his boiling load shot high up inside her in a fast-paced, angry spitting. She wailed and jerked at him, grinding up to get it all, to force her body to absorb his juices, loving it and at the same time bemoaning the fact that it was over, that he had spurted and it was all over and done with.
It wasn't
He kept on fucking her.
His cock slicked and squished in and out of its own semen as he continued to pole it in and out of her. It was as if he hadn't taken any notice of his orgasm. It was as if ... as if he were a machine!
"Darling, darling," she sighed. Her voice was high, with a tinge of delirium. "You came, it was good, good, I'm all full-stop, you have to sto-o-o-o-OPPPP
"No, I don't," he snapped, and crammed his furry cheek against hers while he held her tight and ground in. "I'm not through yet I haven't had enough of you!"
"You're killing me! You're impossible-there wasn't any big red S on your chest when you peeled that shirt!"
"I am possible, I am not killing you because you are obviously a cock-happy, fuckin'-happy wench who couldn't get enough if I had two dicks, and Clark Kent is a closet queen!"
She laughed, throwing back her head and clutching his shoulders and hunching while she laughed at the ceiling. She closed her eyes in sheer rapturous ecstasy and writhed, grinding her sweating ass-cheeks into the bed. She could hear it. She could hear the beautiful sound of his cock sucking in and out of her demanding hole even as she felt its rapturous friction. He grunted, moving hard and fast driving his hot still-hard staff to her uttermost depths.
"Ah, oh, ow-you-you can't COME again, you maniac-aao-w! God-you DID prod a kidney! All the books say you have to let it go down before it comes up again!" Not so of her; another was building, building . ...
"I haven't read those books." Punch, stroke, grind, slam! "Besides, who's trying to come? I'm fucking. That's what it's all about, that's why I'm here, that's what I want, Carole. To fuck you. I don't give a damn if I don't come by Christmas!"
She giggled. "But you DID come!" She grunted, as she did, again. Pop-pop!
"Illusion, all illusion."
His sturdy shaft flung in and out, drawing out his semen with it on each backstroke, cramming some of it back inside on the ensuing in-stroke. She felt wet all over her thighs, felt wetness increasing under her ass, felt his balls banging her like fat, round, completely soaked sponges. The air was filled with the smell of sweat and semen and pussy. Both of them inhaled deeply of it and their thrashing bodies worked to increase the good, the unbridled carnal aroma.
"Please," she gasped, feeling that she couldn't have any more juice, that that steel bar of his would rub all the skin of her inner pussy and she wouldn't be worth a dime for a month. "Please-just rest a minute."
The question came up hoarse and hollow from the hairy face pressed against hers? "Why?"
"Wh-why?" She giggled again. He was insane, this was unreal, not Brian, it wasn't happening, he was deadly serious, totally in control, an economist who knew more than the President, who had conquered two personal problems, Catholicism and alcoholism, either of which had been enough to sink millions of lesser men. Control, control! And he was still cramming his flesh in and out of hers as if he had never heard of control in his life.
"Why!" she repeated. "Because ... because ... because I'm sweaty and want to wipe and get some orange juice and coffee and-no! No, I don't! Because I want to suck and lick you, Brian, because I want to get the taste of you and me off your cock."
She felt him tremble under the almost physical impact of her words. His fingers dug into her until she wanted to cry out. And he was suddenly still.
He turned his head to kiss her cheek a thousand times, to lick her ear and hair and kiss her eyes, raising his head, and her forehead and nose and mouth and back to her cheeks and eyes again.
"Brain, Brian, my God, Brian-oh, you wild, berserk, crazy, wonderful Brian!"
He slithered weakly from her, paused to kiss each of her breasts, and ran his hand through the sheen of sweat on her belly. She felt suddenly cold as his weighted heat was taken from her and the room's air hit their combined perspiration and the instant process of evaporation began.
He flopped on his back. His cock was only half-hard, and already it was dwindling, now that he had ceased making his brutal demands on it. It slapped wetly against his lower belly and partially curled there.
"Dear" ... God ... in heaven!" she gasped, getting herself weakly up into a sitting position beside him. He lay flat on his back, a man, a beautiful wild-fucking man in her bed. Then she looked at his deflated dick. She wanted that. She went after it. The little twinge in her well-used cunt bothered her hardly at all. , His genitals smelled of sex. Semen and sweat, cock and pussy. She let him see and hear her, inhaling deeply.
"Cock-crazy broad!"
"Cunt-crazy fucker!"
He nodded solemnly, looking at her with eyes that shone with ardor. "True, true, it's true." He swung a hand at the ceiling. "Behold! This is my woman, in whom I am well-pleased. I, cunt-crazy fucker, have spoken!"
She giggled. "You really are crazy. Are you really Brian? Maybe he's twins and you're the fun-loving Rover?"
"I'm Hyde," he said in a growly voice, and made a pinch-pass at her nipple, deliberately missing but letting her hear the snick-snick of the nails of his thumb and middle finger. "You, woman-eat Hyde's cock!"
"Hyde," Carole sighed, bending, "got good cock!"
She began licking, pressing her face in and snaking her tongue into every nook and cranny of his thighs and balls and rumpled cock. She noticed that it was a little smaller, but had merely gone soft. One of those, then. She knew about them. The cock she had grown up with, her brother's cock, had been one of the tiny variety that grew in all directions, coming from little more than an inch, sometimes, to unbelievable proportions. This one started out long and thick and grew thicker and hard. She wondered if it also lengthened. She'd have to measure sometime.
Not now. She was busy. She licked and sucked, tugging at his thick black pubic hair with her teeth and sucking at its matting moistness.
He lay there, grinning foolishly at her ceiling and listening to the lewd sucking, slurping sounds she made over his sexual flesh. The agile tip of her pretty pink licker sent fire lashing through his balls as she used it to lap and slick his cock and the lush globes beneath. Her semen-smeared mouth worshiped his hot, swelling flesh and the balls beneath. She squirmed down in his crotch, pressing between his thighs, easing his penis upwards in her clenching hand to let her tongue rove over the juicy, knobby head. The bobbing of her head between his recumbent thighs trickled him with her shining black hair.
She remembered that hair.
"Damn you, you idiot! You woke me up. I must look a freak!"
"You look great." The growly voice. "Hyde see you through semen-colored glasses. You look great, woman! How do you taste?"
"We both taste just lovely."
"Good. Suck cock."
She gave it a final hard slurp, then pressed herself back with both hands in the creases where his thighs . joined his trunk. "Nope. Sorry. Going to the bathroom. Lie there and think evil thoughts, Hyde."
"Grrraowff."
"Right," she said, and popped off the bed and hurried across the room, naked. At the door she glanced back. She was delightfully gratified to see that he was up on one elbow, ardently watching the roll of her naked ass-cheeks and the swing of her long slim hips.
The Hyde voice was gone. "Beautiful," he murmured, and she saw him tremble. It brought forth a fresh spurt of juices in her cunt, and she leaned weakly for a moment against the doorjamb, basking in the warmth of his fervid gaze.
Then she went into the bathroom, snapping a look at the mirror before she sat down. She didn't look so bad at that, she thought, sitting there smiling and feeling weak.
She was returning to him in less than five minutes, washed, toweled, and with her hair combed a bare minimum. Suddenly, after the lull in what had been admittedly a berserk rhapsody of sexuality, she felt a little shy, nakedly approaching the naked man on her bed. But she went to him. He gazed up at her. Carole stared down at him. Slowly, both their faces split open into smiles.
He swung out a hand to catch her behind the thigh. Her knees thumped the edge of the bed and she teetered. Swinging his legs as he held her and used her for leverage, he brought himself into a sitting position that terminated only when his forehead struck her belly. Her hands dropped to his hair. Then she groaned as he began kissing her furry vulva.
He drew her onto the bed without taking his mouth from her cunt. Circling up, arching her body, she returned her face to his crotch, finding that the area she had licked so shinily wet was now nearly dry. She caught the tip of his cock in her mouth and sucked it up.
They lay there a long while, sucking, tonguing, hungrily mouthing each other. His tongue tickled her clitoris until she surprised him with one of those big orgasms that left her weak and trembling and moaning. Her hand pressed his face from her, then returned to his balls. Against her cheek throbbed his cock, standing straight up. She let her fingers slip lovingly, caressingly up and down it.
Then he was taking it from her, and she sighed out a little groaning sound.
"Thief," she murmured, "Robber-you've taken away my co-uh!"
He had left the bed, stood at its side with his knees against it, and was tugging her legs off and up. They braced him, and he kept tugging. She slithered across the bed. He released one calf to take hold of his cock, press it in place between wet-licked lips, and then returned the hand to her leg again. He pulled. Her cunt slid caressing up his shaft until she encased it warmly in inner embrace. She lay on her back, gazing up at him with her calves in the crook of his arms, flanking him.
She squeezed. He grinned.
And he began fucking her again.
More deep probing and pummeling, this time with the sensation of his bulbous cockhead pressing up against her belly, nudging the "ceiling" of her cunt every time he drew it partially out and thrust it back in, using her legs to slide her body up and down his hard shaft. And eventually, more spurting come to liquefy her vaginal depths.
Staggering a little, she grabbed a robe and returned to the bathroom. She emerged to find him wearing his pants. After giving her a passing kiss, he went into the bathroom.
"I'm going to fix breakfast. Are you going to run off or shall I cook for two?"
Td appreciate it if we could avoid referring to that again," he said.
She smiled at the wording; Professor Silone! "Probably a good idea," she said.
"Besides," he said, sticking his head out and giving her a frightful leer, "Hyde not through yet."
"Wanna bet?"
She went to fix breakfast. After a time, he joined her. Accustomed to living by himself, he worked alongside her and seemed to know instinctively where she kept things. They ate almost in silence, and she watched him tuck away three cups of coffee, using saccharin out of a little plastic bottle in his pants pocket.
He came over here to "rape" me, she thought, all turned on and Genghis-Khan urgent ... but he remembered his saccharin! Lord, what a weird mixture he is! Perfect control, ever planning, and ... Mister Hyde.
They cleared up and washed up, side by side. "What now, Doctor Jekyll?"
He thrust his hands into her robe, forcibly spreading it to bare her breasts. "Jekyll get Mondays and Saturday nights," he growled. "I'm Hyde! Arrurnm-mmm!" And he was sucking her tit, and she felt weak in the knees, and even as she protested her hands were coming up to his head.
"You can't! No, you can't DO this! You can't just come in here and take over like this! Suppose I have something to DO! Maybe a preacher's coming over."
"Umm, preacher," he growled around her other breast. "Make three-way. Maybe got sexy wife. FOUR-way!"
She couldn't help her giggle. How the hell could she cope with this? This serious, intense man ... he wouldn't talk or act reasonably, and she must either shriek or slug him or ... go along.
Happily, Carole went along. It had been a long time.
The day was devoted to sex. They sucked nipples and fingers and tongued navels and armpits and genitals. He turned her over and boosted her up onto her knees and thrust up her wet pussy from behind, then ground her down until they both lay prone and she had a hand back under her to keep his sawing cock from coming completely out of her.
They spent forty-five minutes, according to the radio, doing nothing but lying there kissing each other, softly. Then she told him she wanted to suck him off.
"We'll make it mutual," he said.
"The trouble with that is, the trouble with 69," she said, "is that I get all interested in what's happening to me and forget to reciprocate. Why don't you just be still, relax and enjoy?"
He thought about that. "Why don't you just sit astride my neck and then lean forward," he said, and she was astonished again that he had such thoughts, that he knew such things. "I'll just sort of mess around with my mouth. Then if you start letting up, I'll stop."
She gave her head a jerk. "You are a maniac!"
"Hyde," he growled, "maniac." He grasped her left tit in a hand that pretended to be bestial. 'Sit on Hyde and eat cock, woman!"
She sat on his face and ate his cock while he sucked and licked her open, drooling pussy, sucking up its fluids and tonguing in deeply and piercing her with his nose.
She cried out loud when he did something that Cully had never done, that no one had ever done to her. He felt around behind him until he had a pillow doubled under his head, and then he tugged her downward with both hands. And began licking up and down the crack of her ass. He even pressed the minute crater-like hole of her anus with his tongue, and she shuddered violently, trying to keep her mind on sucking cock.
Then ... dear God! She went half-mad with delight and pleasure. He was tickling inside her ass with his tongue, tongue-fucking her ass-hole! She squealed and clutched his thighs and tried to squash her tits against his lower body. Then she came, and she collapsed.
He lay there, able to hold an erection or to get another in seconds, apparently incapable of being put off by delays or interruptions, while she recovered. Then she scrambled up, kissed his ass-licking mouth again and again, sucked the tongue she knew had punctured her ass-hole and so pleasured her, pinched his tiny fur-surrounded nipples until he grunted and jerked in pain.
Then she backed away, straddled him, knelt above him and astride him, and smiled down at him while she scooped up his stiff prick and held it upright, under her, and spiked herself on it.
He lay there and smiled while she rode him. She drove herself up and down, jerking from side to side with his splendid hard banger up inside her, juicing up and down on it with her wetly grinding cunt.
When she grew tired, sweating and sagging a little atop him, he was once again undisturbed, but merely reached out and began to twiddle her clit. No, she gasped, no no, not again, I can't-and he kept right on, smiling at her and being gentle, until she had another of the big ones that turned her into a lake inside.
Then he fucked up into her so hard and fast that she pissed a little on him. That was horribly embarrassing to her-and he treated it as a joke, like spilling an ash on the rug or something, and he kept right on plunging in and out of her.
She was so juicy and he so wet now that she stopped him-by rising until his cock flopped out. As a gesture of apology, she used her own robe to mop them both up. And he turned her over on her back, stretched above her, and propped himself on his hands.
"Put it in."
She tucked his cock into herself again.
He screwed her for a long time that way, slowly gliding, in and out and back and forth, until he at last came.
She had had two big ones and countless of the little popcorn orgasms when he at last left, and he had burst out his semen five times. And Carole knew that she was in love. With both of them. Docktor Jekyll and Mister Hyde.
CHAPTER SIX
Things were going fine with Cully and Melisse Hartman. She didn't seem quite as sex oriented as she had before they were married, and Cully had wondered more than once if she'd been faking it a little. He knew that plenty of women did, acting more turned-on than they were-until their itching fingers broke the hymen of a gold band.
But Melisse held to her honeymoon promise: whatever he said, whenever he said. And she threw herself into their lovemaking with gusto. She just seemed to have to be led, told, directed. Cully didn't mind. He directed.
Obviously the Cowpers were ready to swing with them, and it was true that Cully could groove on Sue Cowper's talhsh, slender figure, sort of like his sister's, and the promise of fiery passion in her green eyes. But that was an activity Melisse definitely wasn't interested in, and Cully didn't push it at all He also turned Sue down, that time she telephoned to say that Bill was out of town and maybe Cully could come over ... she knew how it was for a man with a pregnant wife . ...
"Come on, Sue," he told her, "Melisse isn't that pregnant yet!"
"Later, baby," Sue Cowper said.
By December, Melisse was beginning to round out in the belly and her already impressive mammarian endowments were swollen up even larger than their normal largeness.
She had failed to take her pill, that night in September after the Morleys' party. Hungover all the next day, she forgot again. The baby was due in early June, close to their anniversary. And since doctors have never claimed to be precise predictors, maybe even on their first anniversary.
They would have preferred to wait awhile on children, but Cully had gotten a promotion and another ninety a month, and he wasn't as put off by her pregnancy as Melisse was.
"Y'know," he said to her one evening when they had agreed there was not one damned thing on TV worth even listening to while they read, "the time's going to come when you and Junior are going to be past lovemaking."
She pressed her book down between her thighs with both hands and looked disconsolately at him. "I hate the thought of that, sweetheart. I know how bad it'll be for you."
For me, he thought, not "for both of us." But he said, "Yeah, well ... we'd better start getting ready for that time."
"Cully ... oh, Cully, you know I won't leave you hanging!"
"Ummm." Yes, he thought, I know that!
He got up and went over to push his hands down into the front of her round-necked blouse. His fingers slithered over that pair of overripe, taut-sldnned fruits and he pressed them, marveling as always, happily, at their size and firmness.
She began with an "Oh Cully-" and wound up whimpering and squirming while he stroked and rubbed and tugged her nipples into ripe erectness. He fingered them that way awhile, making her gasp and breathe fast and loud. She kept biting her hp as she helplessly responded to his digital pressures on those so-sensitive titty-tips.
Then he slid one hand down her arm to her hand and clamped it She rose willingly, a little misty in the eyes when he pulled. They went silently upstairs. Still wordlessly, they each undressed and faced each other at the bedside. He drew her down with their lips united.
She was surprised when he turned her over, and even more surprised-very pleasantly so-when he began kissing and fondling and licking his tongue over her round white ass-cheeks.
It was very nice, soothing, and she lay there happily in a sort of soporific daze. One of the wonderful things about being Cully Hartman's woman was that his mental storehouse of sexy ideas never seemed to run out. And sometimes he made them up.
like the time he had hoisted her up and set her on the dresser so that he could eat her while standing up, and she was able to sit there with her legs dangling over his shoulders and watch while he tongued her pussy. Later he had lifted her down, then parked his own smallish male ass on the dresser. That way she was able to stand up and suck his cock. And he kept talking sexy, coarse language that they had discovered excited her.
like the time he had started playing with her cunt while she was talking on the telephone. She had gotten so turned-on that she'd barely been able to talk herself to a ring-off, and then they were balling, right there in the kitchen, standing up with the breakfast bar digging into her back.
like the time-but what he was doing right now ended her reverie. Behind her as she lay on the bed on her stomach, Cully had left off licking and kissing her darling big ass-cheeks. She groaned aloud and a tremendous surge of libidinal excitement slammed all through her.
Her buttocks were wet and shiny now, gleaming with his saliva, and he smiled down at them. He spread the rounded buns with both hands so that he could get at her rosy little anus. Melisse's was a pretty ass-hole. There was very little hair around it, and what was there was so pale as to be hardly visible. Too, the cinctured little hole was pink, whereas the crater between the cheeks of Cully's sister was darker, brownish, and choked with dark hair.
Christ, he thought, if he could only get Carole out of his mind!
He bent forward, holding open the soft cleavage of Melisse's ass. Then he began tantalizing the minute hole between the creamy white, gentle hillocks. He tapped it again and again with the very tip of his tongue, as if trying to tongue-fuck her.
She twitched and groaned, and the musky fragrance of her flooding pussy wafted up to invade his senses. He smiled, knowing that she loved what he was doing, whether it had momentarily shocked her or not. Lowering his head, he blew into the parting slit of her anxious cunt. He saw and felt her little shiver of delight, and he heard the high-voiced, rapturous sounds she made. He could actually feel the softening, the relaxation of pressure in the tight narrow hole his tongue explored shamelessly.
The sliding, the delicate feel of his tongue in her rearward crease sent voluptuous sensations through the prone blonde, and she began panting and squirming.
"Ummm ... oh, ohhh, sweetheart ... what ... what made you think of doing this?"
"You've got a truly beautiful ass, baby," he told her. "It deserves its share of attention."
Then he ran his tongue straight down and into the open wet trough of her cunt below. He found it emphatically wet and thick with slick juices. He licked and sucked them forth, chewing gently at the full thick lips.
"Ayarrghh!" she cried out, and she thrashed wildly, involuntarily moving a full inch forward, away from him.
She lay there quivering, and he waited. "Come back," he said quietly. "Push yourself back again, Melisse."
With a whimpering sound, she pushed her ass back against his face. He immediately opened the lovely cheeks again and thrust his tongue straight into their warm cleavage.
He kept her in a shivery state of voluptuous excitement and sweet contentment for a long while, licking her pretty pink ass-hole and poking his tongue into it.
Then, with the little slot fully relaxed, all soft and spit-coated, he pushed one finger slowly and gently into her. She groaned, tensed, and started forward. But this time he held her.
"Cully! What are you doing?"
"Just pushing a finger up your slick little ass-hole, darling."
"Gaaaaah!"
"Like it?"
"I-I-" She was panting. "I don't ... know! It hurts ... but it feels so ... so sexy ... yes ... it hurts but ... yes! I like it. But lord, darling, it's such a-an obscene thing to do!"
Cully chuckled. "Yes," he said, pushing another knuckle's worth of finger in. "Isn't it!"
"Hurts..."
"Want me to stop?"
"Ye-no-o-o ... oh, darling, no, just ... just be careful, please."
"Oh hell yes, baby, I'll be careful."
He reached over for the jar of vaseline he had brought into the bedroom, unobtrusively. He didn't bother with fanciness. He merely rammed the middle finger of his right hand in and came out with a glob of the nearly clear jelly adhering to it With care, he slid the finger of his left hand out of the warm, flaccid tunnel of her ass. Without care, he shoved the grease-smeared finger of his right hand into the same tight little hole. It went in all the way, easily.
He began finger-skewering her ass.
He thrust slowly at first, letting her become accustomed to it, and relax, and flower open. Then he began pushing harder and faster. His digital thrusts between the shuddering cheeks stretched the damp, pliant walls of her hody clenching depths. She groaned, but only at first.
As he rammed into her again, again, again, again, his rearward finger-fucking of her sent a warm glow all through her body and brought her breath out in ragged gasps.
She gasped out his name, over and over. Her body was continually shaken by convulsive tremors of lust and she was aglow with a torrid felicity as he reamed out the soft hot tunnel of her ass with a long, thick finger.
He kept it up for long minutes. Her virginal ass-hole became as open as her cunt. Then the time came when he felt her inward response. She was squeezing her anus around his probing, dilating finger with all her strength. Her clenching muscles drew him into her own engulfing passion and tightened up her already sublimely snug anal furrow until she heard him groan with the pressure around his finger.
She grinned happily, sighed, put back one hand to rub herself. After only a few little circling rubs of her clitoris, she came.
When he at last slipped his finger out of her and turned her over to push his cock into her, she was more than ready. She was boiling hot and begging for cock.
She began rotating her rump, slicking it over the sheet beneath her. She worked with sucking vaginal mouth and parted, wet lips to suck off his beloved prick inside the seething puddle of her cunt. In animal heat, seeking animal contentment, she ground her belly up at him. And she smiled up at him, moaning softly while he pumped in and out of the hot wet lips in a heaving rhythm of his sweat-slick hips.
Her face changed slightly, straining when his finger came gliding easily back up into her ass, while his cock still filled the adjacent channel.
Then her smile returned. His finger stayed up in her all the while he pumped the nearby tunnel with his cock. She loved it She loved him. She was full of him, full and full, finger and skewering cock, and they both came gloriously.
A couple of nights later he repeated the process with mouth and tongue and finger, then used a greased candle to fuck her ass. It slithered easily in and out, and she groaned and squirmed and began hunching back at the candle, and the wax grew so warm inside her that it bent a little. He used a fingernail to mark off how much of it she took without flinching. Then they came together to screw just as they had before, with his body on hers and his finger up her ass-hole. Her orgasm was enormous, and she told him later that she thought she had come with the candle. It struck her as both obscene-and delightfu!
A few nights later, Cully pushed in the Vaselined candle, which he had carefully cut down to only a four-and-a-half-inch length with the wick still dangling, a long white cord like that of a tampon. Deliciously lewd, dangling from her ass-hole.
He left the candle in while they fucked. He could feel it too, with his cock sliding in and out of the canal next door. She whimpered and moaned, but she clutched him and moved, and they both came big. He lay atop her a long while, holding her, kissing her, and letting his cock soak in its own seminal deposit up her cunt.
Then he turned her gently over, spread her legs and her cheeks, and took hold of the candle's wick. By tugging slowly, steadily, gently, he easily drew the length of wax cylinder out. She groaned at its final emergence, shuddered violently, then flopped over onto her back to watch him ... watching her while she used her fingers to bring herself to another swiftly reached orgasm. They fell asleep in each other's arms.
The next morning was Saturday, and before she could get up, Cully was pulling her up onto her knees and screwing her in the cunt from behind with long, gliding, slow strokes. Long before he shot off into her quaking, ever-receptive body, he had both thumbs in her ass-hole.
There was a note under Cully's last piece of pizza Sunday night.
The note said "I want to suck your cock." Almost instantly, the coiled pecker in his pants became a cock worth sucking. He thrust the note into his shirt pocket and looked at her. She puckered her lips in a kiss from a distance of three feet. The throbbing hard-on in his shorts felt like it might make it.
"What possessed you to write that note, woman?" he asked her later, in the bedroom.
She hugged herself as a little shiver went through her. "I wanted to. Just a wild urge, you know. It made me feel very sexy. I knew you'd like it too."
"I loved it!" He was down to his shorts.
Stripped to bra and pants, she came over to him and her hand cupped the thick collection of male meat in the pouch of his shorts. With deliberate movements she nudged him several times with her breasts. And all the while she fondled his genitals and smiled at him.
"Well, then, why don't you get out of those shorts and go sit on the bed," she said softly. "And-would you like me naked or otherwise?"
"Naked," he said.
"Yessir!" she said, and she released his cock to strip down her panties. Then, straightening, she caressed his now-bulging shorts with her furry, naked crotch. Her smile remained.
Then she put back her hands and started unfastening her bra.
"Get your hands ready," she told him.
He got his hands ready, and she peeled off the bra, and her big white tits plopped into his palms. He cradled them there, feeling their extreme warmth. They always came out of the bra so warm they were nearly hot, and with their nipples all shrunken up and half buried in crinkled aureoles. It occurred to him that a few months from now, after the baby came, and then for the rest of her life, she'd have a lot more nipple. He looked down to where they were livening up, extruding themselves pinkly from the haloes that were smoothing out, swelling a little around the thickening points. Yes, he thought, he'd like her with a lot more nipple!
Between now and then, he knew, she would also have a lot more tit. As if she weren't already a woman who occasionally complained about her tit-siness! She'd also told him that she had hated the big developing jugs when she was a kid. They had begun swelling when she was ten, and by the time she was thirteen her brassiere size was bigger than her mother's. And then all of a sudden, after years of being still, apparently having achieved their full thrust and circumference, they grew some more when she was seventeen. That, she said, had been very painful. It had also played hell with her wardrobe, because she suddenly required a larger bra size, a larger cup size.
Now he fondled the strutting beauties while she stood there naked, and then he remembered that he was supposed to go and sit on the bed. He was completely happy to have her take up the direction of their sex lives, for once. He was sure any man would be.
Cully stripped out of his shorts. He had to pause while she grabbed his big upstanding cock, and then he walked over to the bed with it bouncing and swinging around before his belly. He sat down on the edge of the bed. Melisse smiled at him, standing there a few moments and studying him, his body and his high-rearing cock. Then she came over to him, placed her hands on his knees, and knelt on the fake-fur rug.
She lowered her face immediately to his crotch.
He watched her run her tongue out, making it as long as she could to let it slither over the fat-crested head of his prick. One hand came up to push her hair back over her shoulders so that it would not interfere with his entranced viewing of her paying her oral respects to his manhood. Then she moved in a little more to his crotch, her naked tits hobbling, and she slid her tongue down the tool standing high before his belly. When she reached its base, she let her warm, wet tongue play over his scrotum, licking and poking at the swollen pouch of egg-shaped rocks.
Slowly, her tongue traced its way back up the pulsing undersurface of his penis.
"I like this cock," she said conversationally, as though it had just occurred to her. "It's a good, fat, thick, long cock that's made me feel good a lot of times! I love it. It's a good cock, Cully. It's a beautiful thing, you know that?"
"I never considered its beauty," he admitted. "It sure loves you, though."
"Um-hmm. Isn't that nice, we're in love with each other, your cock and I."
"Your cock."
"Oh yes," she said, wrapping her hand and a couple of fingers around the thick staff. "Oh yes, MY cock!" She gazed down at it, drawing it slowly closer and closer to her luscious lips. She had put on fresh lipstick, deliberately, he knew, to mark his cock with it. It was a dark red rouge, almost purple, and it was going to be interesting to see what his prick looked like, smeared with it.
She held his prick there, less than an inch from her face, while she gazed lovingly at it. Her other hand stole down to fondle his balls with equal devotion and gentleness. He quivered. He was breathing more and more rapidly, watching her watch his cock, watching her gleaming, crimson mouth.
Suddenly he shuddered at the urge that emanated in his balls and boiled up through him. Get it in your mouth, he thought. I can't stand waiting and thinking about it much longer. I want to gag you with it! I want to sperm off into your throat, darling, you beautiful cocksucker! I want your head impaled, your hands and tongue just aren't quite enough.
Christ-now she was maddening him even more, licking it like a lollipop!
"You know what I'd say to you if we were somebody else, just a guy and a girl?"
She rolled her eyes up to give him a questioning look. She knew he was watching her, and she licked the underside of his knobby glans.
"I'd say 'Get some head around it, bitch, and quit messing around!'"
She raised her eyebrows and her mouth stretched into a little smile.
"Pretend we're somebody else, just a guy and a girl."
"Get some head around that fuckpole, bitch, and quit messin' around!" Cully snapped delightedly.
Instantly she thrust her face forward that last millimeter and pressed her lips against the head of his eager meat. Rather than open wide and gobble it in, she kept pressing her lips against its tip, adding pressure so that her mouth was forced to part.
He stared down at her, watching her sweet mouth spread over the turgid crown. It started going in. He watched it happen, her opening mouth engulfing the swollen glans and pulling it in. Beautiful, he thought, with a totally involuntary little shiver. Beautiful!
Then she had a mouthful of his thickly swollen meat, and she was beginning to move her head, bobbing it slowly up and down over his crotch, letting his cock run in and out of her wide-held mouth, skewering the spreading red lips and the inner wet warmth like fucking a mobile cunt, her face stuffed, gulping noisily while he felt a desperate need growing hotly inside him. Her lips were stretched and swollen shinily around the lust-thick shaft. She sucked it even as she fucked it, with her face.
He reached down to fondle her breasts, bending over her while she sucked. Slipping a thumb and finger over one pink nubbin, he rubbed the dainty nipple gently. Around his cock, she sighed and moaned, shoving her chest deliberately forward so that his thumbs buried the twin cherry-buds in the resilient flesh of the tits they decorated.
She sucked him higher and higher toward the ultimate release while he played with her sensitive tits. He wondered when there'd be milk in them. And ... what would it taste like? The thought made him shiver as surely as her moving, nibbling, suctioning mouth did. They were in agreement that they'd nurse the kid.
Well, he thought, I'll sure-find out what Melisse's milk tastes-like!
Then, groaning and straining and helplessly grasping her head as his balls erupted, he let her find out what his milk tasted like.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Carole took Brian Silone to the bank's Christmas party. She sort of showed him off to her fellow employees and bosses at the dinner, loving how the men grooved on him because he represented intellect and, even better, taught economics and banking. She loved the women's grooving on him, too, although she kept a weather eye on them, especially on Elly O'Connell with her big blinky blue eyes and loose-bouncing jugs-what a dress! The women were impressed with his academic job, but no so much as with his beard and mustache and quiet, calm maleness.
Cully and Melisse went to the bank's Christmas party-after the dinner, which was strictly for employees and mates or dates-because Joel Harkins was, after all, Melisse's uncle, and he was president, and he was the darling old pussycat who'd given them that room in Miami Beach as a wedding present. Melisse wore her hatching clothes like a proud badge. Yet there were so many other imagine tunic-and-pants outfits there that many didn't even notice that she was pregnant.
Cully talked with Harkins: business, bank and P&G and government and economy and where the country was going, because he felt he had to. He danced with fat Mrs. Harldns for the same reason. He enjoyed dancing with the very cute and very tiny wife of one of the vice presidents-he couldn't keep all those look-alike clowns separated in his mind. Booze flowed like water. Once a year, for a few hours, all these super-straight, so-business-like, so-aware-of-what-others-thought people let down. When they parried, they parried. Eyes started getting glassy and speech slurred and gaits unsteady.
Then Cully looked up and there was his sister, with some bearded guy who looked like he didn't know any dry cleaners. Immediately Cully felt awkward. Seeing that Carole did, too, helped a little. Brother and sister or not, they didn't greet each other with much effusiveness. No hug, no kiss.
Jesus Christ, he thought, trying to stop his eyes from traveling up and down her and back up again, she looks great! Td forgotten how sexy that slender body is! My superbodied wife would never, never believe it!
Well, he thought, she's not-likely to find out that I think so, either!
"Cully! No time long see, or something like that! Brian, this is my brother Cully Hartman. Cully, Brian Silone."
The two men shook hands, although Cully noticed that Brian didn't ram his out the way business people thought they had to do every time they saw each other.
"You're with Procter & Gamble, Carole's told me." Brian said.
"Right, food advertising division. You're ahead of me, though. It's been so long since I've seen my sister I'm out of touch. What do you do, Mister Silone?"
"Brian's good enough. I teach. Economics, a banking course, one in personal finance." He smiled at Carole, squeezed her hand. "That's how I met Carole."
"He's my professor, Cully!"
Cully smiled, dragging his eyes away from their happily entwined hands. "Now that's a smart shot, sister! You getting an A in that course?"
She and Brian exchanged a smiling look, one of those obviously personal just-us-two exchanges that automatically moved Cully out onto the perimeter, and Carole laughed.
"Nope!" she cried, with dancing eyes that showed Cully how happy she was. "Finals were last week, and I pulled a B. Brian can't be brown-nosed!"
Maybe you're not sticking your nose in far enough, Cully thought, and instantly disliked himself for the unworthy thought. Christ, he mused, I'm not only eX' cited-I'm jealous of this man!
"Well, if my sister can't brown-nose you into an A, Mister Silone, you're a strong, strong man!"
Cully knew that Carole was just as uncomfortable as he was, and excited as well. He was glad when some dizzy creature with beauty-parlored hair grabbed him and told him he was going to dance with her. Wife of one more vice president. Probably thought Cully was worth cultivating, since he was married to the boss's niece. It didn't seem to occur to her that Harkins was not a millionaire-and did have five children among whom to distribute the wealth.
Hot and tense after seeing Cully, Carole hung onto Brian and let her fingertip run over his palm more than once. At last they went up to Harkins to tell him what a marvy time they'd had. He had to get Brian into a conversation, but then, at long last, they got away.
"You and your brother certainly aren't Italians," Brian remarked, on the way.
"What? No, of course not-what'd you say that?"
He chuckled. "You haven't seen him for months, and you both live in the same town. That's distinctly un-Italian, for starters. And then when the two of you did meet tonight, no hugging and kissing." He shook his head. "Lord, you should see how we carry on-even unto the third and fourth cousins!"
She laughed uncomfortably. She was still tense, and excited. She knew the source of the excitement and what sort of relief she needed for the tension. It wasn't aspirin or tranqs.
"Tomorrow's Sunday," she said as he turned the VW down her street. "Why don't you, you sleep in."
"Believe me, I intend to."
She slid her hand along his leg. "Why don't you sleep in here, Brian?"
He pulled in to the curb in front of the little two-story duplex. But he didn't answer. He got out and came around for her, taking her hand and walking her up to the door. They kissed, and she made certain it was a more than warm one.
"Coming in?"
"Uh-uh. Got to take the car home. Two blocks, right?"
"Yeah, two blocks," she said, dully. Wasn't he going to-
"In that case I'll be back in about seven minutes."
She squeezed him hard with both arms. "Yeahhh, man! I'll be waiting!"
"I hope so," he said. He patted her fanny, kissed her again, and returned to the car.
She went in, hung up her coat, and put a hand over her heaving breasts. She had had plenty to drink, but she went in and poured an ounce of brandy anyhow. Cully, she thought, and she sighed. Then she snapped angrily aloud: "Stop that! So he got you turned on! So Brian's the one, ass-hole! Forget Cully, goddammit!"
But she couldn't. She was excited and tight enough to start worrying and feel herself getting ready to cry when Brian wasn't there in seven, then eight, then nine minutes.
But then there was a tap-tap at the glass in the door, and he came in.
"You left the door open," he accused, locking it after himself before peeling his gabardine topcoat. "Dammit Carole, even if I was coming right back, you shouldn't-"
She rammed herself against him and closed his mouth with hers. The topcoat crumpled to the floor. His hands felt cold through her dress, and then a lot colder on her bare skin above the low-backed cocktail dress. She shivered, but she hung onto his lips.
Then, "Chew me out later, ape-man. Right now I want you to ball me bowlegged."
A couple of months ago, seeing his wealth of bodily hair, she had giggled and called him "ape-man." He had seemed to like it, and she used it every now and then, intimately-along with "Hyde." Hyde still showed up now and again, but never in front of others. So far as she knew, he maintained his shy reserve with everyone but her.
"Armmm," he growled, pawing her back. "Rape broad bowlegged!"
"Yeah, yeah man, do that, do it!"
"What the crap's got you so turned on, little girl?"
"You!" she breathed fiercely, snapping her crotch hard against his.
"Uh!" He was working away, both arms around her, at her zipper. "Another blow like that to the Silone family jewels and I'll be bowlegged, and un-balled!"
She giggled, then began dragging off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. She slid her hands swiftly in to get at the hairy chest she loved. He finally got the zipper down, and his hands slid on down to move over her rump. She wiggled its rounded halves under his palms and started nibbling at his nipple. Her hands meanwhile worked at his belt-buckle, doing a lousy job because of her oral preoccupation. She was quivering, but not from his still-chilly hands. He began peeling her dress down; she had to back away from him. With a downward tug on his part and a swift wiggle on hers, it was off.
"Umm-I love the way you look in pantyhose, little girl!"
I'll like the way you look a lot better when we get the rest of your clothes off, big man. Yeah ... it's a shame about pantyhose, too. They are sexy, I know that-and about as much trouble to get off as a girdle used to be-I know!" She smiled broadly, watching him drop his pants and start getting them off his feet "Do you really like me this way?"
"I like you any way-yeah, yes, it's supersexy, somehow."
She spun around and hurried to the kitchen. "Be right back!"
Getting out of his shoes, he heard a drawer open, silver jingling, then a spot of silence, then a clatter of something being dropped back into the drawer, which was then slammed. She came hurrying back, stiff tits rippling and a big smile making her face glow.
"There! I cut 'em open. I now have a split-crotch pantyhose."
He smiled, but shook his head. "Hell, that ruins 'em, doesn't it?"
"Uh-huh." She came close and slipped her fingers into the waistband of his shorts. I'll just have to keep them separate. For ... special occasions."
They began their kissing and fondling there, and continued on the couch, and in only a very few minutes he was pushing into her and she was grabbing him hard, pulling, jerking her head to and fro. Her nylon-sheathed legs and hips felt great under his.
"Oh, man, does that big thing feel good coming into me!"
"You ... are so hot inside, little girl. And, yeah-I like the feel of your hips and thighs in the pantyhose. Slick 'n sexy ... which is just the way you are inside."
Taking his cue from her extreme excitement and agitation, he began moving fast and hard, almost at once. The couch cushions bounced wildly under her.
A fury of lustfulness had seized her body. It gripped her as if she were in the throes of some sort of seizure-as she was. A seizure of carnality. Her mouth moved ceaselessly, emitting sounds rather than words as that big, welcome prick slapped around inside her. She tried to clamp it hard and tight, tried to hold it while she drank its hot milk with the mouth of her possessive pussy. She humped up and down and tugged at his wonderfully hairy body in slithering, inflamed sexuality.
With his feet against the arm of the couch and his hands under her ass, he pumped hard and fast and deep. His chest smashed her stiff cones of breasts. He dug his fingers into her buttocks. Fucking was still the world's greatest activity-and fucking a woman who was as obviously turned-on, as violent in her desire to be skewered through and through as she was, was the absolute epitome. His liquid lust was building up fast in his balls, and he wasn't worried about it because he knew that one come wasn't going to be enough, tonight.
The fur-bordered gulf of her pussy swallowed his driving cock again and again and rocked her with thrills of sensual exhilaration. He strained down into her to keep it up her as far as it would go, sinking it in and grinding his hips, pushing at the couch with his toes, screwing and burning her thirsty little nest with hot fat cock.
Together, they listened to the wet smacking sounds of their bodies, resounding through the room. She was grinding her hips, wriggling her ass, disliking the soft couch, pulling him into her with hands and tightening legs. Wild and delicious thrills swept through her and her brain seemed to reel with passion.
Then she hunched up a little too violently, and he slipped sideways. His arms tightened around her and his fingers sank deep into the flesh of her ass. Each of them let out a cry as they fell from the couch to the floor. Both yells were cut off by the impact
"Jesus!" she cried. Her eyes sparkled. "One of us is a little wild!"
"One of-you little sexpot you're the one that's moving like a jumping bean! Well, you haven't got the couch to absorb the strokes now!"
Dragging his hands from beneath her, he smacked them down on the rug on either side of her. He rose above her, doing a wide-armed pushup, until the head of his cock was barely contained within the ring formed by her outer labia. "Let's see if we can't just settle-you-down!"
He began pounding, hard. The floor was unyielding beneath her. His cock was swooping in and out between the distended lips of her cunt, squishing slipperily, driving all the way up her humid hollow with a hard impact of his body on hers, drilling and pumping her with a steady cadence that made her brain whirl.
"Uh," she gasped, "ah-aa-owwl Uh-unnhh . . .ah, ah, ah-oh, darling, baby, sweetheart, ape-manyou-are-ungh!-pounding me dizzyP
"Was," he said, and let go after spurting thick warm semen up the soft furrow he had pummeled so furiously.
She lay there beneath him with her arms wrapped around him while she kept hunching her crotch to his. His imbedded prick made sloppy sounds as her movements made it jerk about in the lake of its own emission. They lay there happily for many minutes.
"Uh," she grunted, releasing him with her arms and bucking as if to roll him off. "How about-getting off me, ape-man ... and ... coming to bed?"
"Good idea, if it weren't for the getting off part And-oh shit, we'd better gather up our clothes, too."
"Nobody'll come busting in here in the morning, and my dress is hung up." He tilted and slid from her, and she sat up. She clapped her hands to her stomach. "Ooh-that air feels cold! Here, I'll get your pants on a hanger."
"Thanks-I'll grab a glass of water."
"Bring one," he said.
He came naked into the bedroom a few moments later and she grabbed the water in one hand and his slimy cock in the other. She drank most of the water, emitted a long sigh of satisfaction, and looked down at the limp shank she held in her hand.
"I give it three minutes," she said.
"What?"
She turned him around so that his back was to the bed and gave him a little push. With a grunt, he sat down helplessly. She immediately went to her knees between his thighs.
"I give this puny pecker three minutes to become a telephone pole," she said, and slid her lips over the head, slick and wet with semen. She sucked it off and swallowed it down, then began using her tongue along the lower surface of the shaft to scoop up more of the taste of both their bodies.
"Ah-annngh, Christ, woman-uh! I don't think there's much chance, but-just in case it doesn't ... you give it three minutes to get up, or what?'
"Or I'll bite it off!"
"Oh, well then, if that's all," he said, and she was forced to giggle dispite the raptness of her fixation on his spent staff.
He sat there on the bed and shivered, looking down at her dark, bobbing head. The feel of her velvety, wet tongue licking around and around the crown and the sensitive, circumcised flesh just behind it filled him with excitement and an invigorating joy. Her mouth began pumping, rapidly, with fellatistic zeal and greed. Meanwhile, she was working on his balls with both hands, making them squirm around between her fingers, pushing them upward, pressing the loose flesh of the hairy bag that contained them.
Neither of them knew if three minutes had passed or not But she made a flagpole out of his tired prick, and in short order. She looked up at him with a smile of triumph when she had released his bloated cock from her mouth.
"You," he said, grinning and bending to stroke her tits, "are too much, way too much!"
"That's just because I haven't had enough!"
He shook his head. "Yeah-like a bitch in heat tonight, aren't you?"
She quivered as an exciting thought struck her. "Yes! That's just what I am-and that's the way I want you to fuck me! like a horny dog!"
She joined him on the bed, arranged herself on her hands and knees with her butt stuck nakedly up at him, and she looked around her shoulder to flash him a lascivious grin. Then she lowered her head to the bed and her ass was thrust up even higher. Beneath it was the juicy invitation of her ovaled red hole and its open, swollen lips.
She wiggled her ass in naked, salacious provocation.
Brian got up fast and swung to get on his knees behind her. They had discovered already how well physically fitted they were; both of them were the same height and their pelvises were almost perfectly aligned. With his hands on her ass-cheeks, he began pushing his cock beneath them. A shiver ran through him when he felt her fingers on its head. Putting her arm back beneath her bowed body, she tugged and guided him into her ready and waiting cunt. Then she pushed back, hard.
He shivered again. Her body had swallowed him all the way, in one gulp. The cushioning pressure of her very firm ass-cheeks against his groin, the throbbing of her cunt all around his cock, sent pangs of excitement driving through him.
He met her next backward hunch with a hard-ramming one of his own that made her yelp and groan.
The hatching, blood-swollen tube of his cock sank up her pussy until their pubic hair was jammed together again. He arched his buttocks in and downward, gaining a little extra way in her. That made her squeal, for he was in almost frighteningly deep. He started pumping hard, ramming to make it go that deeply every time, caressing his full length between her slippery, distended labia.
"Ah-aghhl Ah yes, damn you Brian Silone, you big hairy fucker-cram it inl Owwl Yes yes, that's the way-in-unngh!"
"Can you-feel-THAT, bitch? And ... THAT? There ... that'll clean your carburetor!"
"More more more," she gasped out, closing her eyes in rapture. "I'll tell you when it's cleaned out!"
Hanging onto the delicious long ovals of her ass, he thrust in full length, over and over, way up the hot steaming passage. He continued thrusting and pulling and pushing, straining his tensing calves each time, ending the deep-driving strokes by holding himself tightly against her shuddering ass-cheeks. He could feel the inward tugging as she made it even better for both of them by applying her cuntal muscles.
Sliding one hand around her, leaning on her upturned butt, he squeezed the upper bulge of her cunt. That tightened it around his delving tool, and he shuddered in pleasure. Then he pushed a finger in, swiftly found her clitoris, which definitely was not hiding, and began rolling it With a jerk, she began a soft sighing and moaning.
He pumped her pussy and rolled her love button until both of them were at the very peak. Then he clenched his teeth and held back with all his power, rolling and rubbing her wriggly nubbin until she squealed and lurched into a shuddering orgasm.
Instantly he let go, pumped twice, and inundated her spasming vagina with gushing torrents of creamy ball-juice while both of them writhed and shuddered in the grip of a mind-blowing orgasm.
They went to sleep stretched on their bellies, he still lying along her back.
"You were hot as a firecracker with a fuse on both ends last night, weren't you," he said in the morning.
She stretched and rolled languidly over to press her lips against his chest. "Oh yes. And you were certainly up to the occasion!"
He stroked her naked ass, still sleep-warm. "But you didn't get it off that first time-"
"Oh yes, yes, darling, I had lots of little ones ... but ... well, you know. You knew, and you did it. It takes that clit-rubbing before I hit the big one-the big, BIG one. And, oh man, I did!"
He slid his hand in through the hollow of her thighs, her legs drawn up a little, and pressured her thighs apart. Then he found and began gently pressuring, circling her clit.
"Bri-i-annn ... "
"Sh. Be still."
"Be STILL! With you doing that? Oh, man, how you do talk!" And she began playing with his cock.
Eventually she was no longer able to concentrate on it, and he watched her in absolute delight while she made it again, made it Big.
After a few minutes of weak collapse, she suddenly switched around and began licking his cock, his balls, his inner thighs, his furry crotch. Her hands played with his tight-cheeked ass, teased his ass-hole.
Then she rose above him, straddled him, grabbed his mile-high erection and tucked it away where she could do it the most good.
She rode him to his shuddering orgasm, and stretched out atop him. His hand slid idly up and down her back.
"Carole?"
"Hm?"
"Love me?"
"Yep."
"Know I love you."
"Uh-huh!"
"You think we make it, sexually?"
"You sound like a psychiatrist, but-lord, yes! Shy teachers sure come on like gang-busters once they're wound up, shy teacher!"
"Nervous about an ex-Catholic ex-alcoholic?"
"Nope."
"Want to get married?"
"Yep."
"When?"
"Now. Yesterday. Tomorrow. Soon, fast."
"Right."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Carole and Brian were married on January 26th, a Friday. Cully and Melisse ignored the traditional silver and china, and gave them an extremely practical and long-lived gift: a complete set of Melmac dishes. And Cully kissed the bride.
Their mutual shock showed in their eyes, both Carole's and Cully's, and they avoided each other throughout the reception.
Both of them had felt the spark, the old urge. They were both married, but they had not yet buried what had been between them ... and still was.
Watching her, watching Melisse, thinking, feeling a churning in his guts and in his head, Cully clamped his jaws. He knew what he had to do, and he wasn't too happy about it It would be the first time, and he had been married only eight months. But he had to. The tallish, slim body ... his sister ... no longer available to him . ...
But another, similarly constructed woman was.
He went into another room and telephoned Sue Cowper. She was pleasantly unaffected. Yes. She'd meet him. Yes, tonight The Quality Court, over in
Norwood. Bight She whispered her "Later, baby." Brian hung up and went back in, to his wife, and his sister's wedding reception.
The bride and groom departed amid a flurry of the usual bullshit and the reception began tapering off into an excuse for gabbers and drunks. It was Melisse who suggested leaving, saying she felt tired.
On the way home, Cully apologized and told her he'd have to go back to the office and get some work out. That way he wouldn't have to work tomorrow.
She accepted that with a sigh. "But-what about dinner, honey?"
"Dinner!" He chuckled. "Hell, it's after seven now. I've been stuffing myself with junk at the reception. I can live without dinner-I'd rather not get to be a fat executive just yet, baby!"
She nodded, smiled, and he walked her into the house and kissed her. Then he took his briefcase, with a toothbrush in it, and went out and got back into the car. He sat there a few moments, thinking about it thinking maybe he could talk himself out of it but knowing that he wouldn't.
It wasn't that he loved Melisse any the less. This didn't have anything to do with love. This was sex. Even then, there was no way he could ever say that he wasn't enjoying a full sex life at home. But that didn't have anything to do with it, either. This was ... different. This wasn't even Sue Cowper. This was ... Carole. He thought about her and Brian, and had a vision of them in a motel somewhere, and he sank his teeth into his hp without noticing.
Then he drove through Cincinnati, stopped for a bottle at a store he'd never set foot in before, and drove on out into the area called Norwood, and into the parking lot of the Quality Court Motel. As he and Sue agreed, he signed in as Thomas Stewart of Cleveland, told them he'd be up and out early in the morning, and paid for the room with cash. No, he wouldn't need any help with his luggage. He went back out to the car, drove around back, and parked facing the board fence that surrounded the pool.
Again, he sat there for a moment, thinking.
Then he scooped up briefcase and bottle, locked the car, and went inside. After leaving bottle and case in 310, he went out for some ice and a can of pop. Then he stood there in the darkened room and gazed out the window at the empty swimming pool, thinking. Until the phone rang.
"Stewart, three-ten," he answered.
"This is Sue, from the office, Mister Stewart. You left the carbon of the Mundy plans-do you need it?"
"No," he said. "I have everything I need, thanks, Sue. I'm right here in three-ten if you need me for anything, but M be up and out early tomorrow."
"Yes sir. Good night, Mister Stewart."
"Later, Sue."
Ten minutes later, having made the call from a filling station only to get the room number, Sue Cowper knocked at the door. She came in, then turned to stand there smiling at him. She was good-looking woman, flashy green eyes, a tall, slender figure, dark brown hair that she wore rather short, without any elaborate coiffing. Under the green maxicoat with the big brass burtons, she wore a femininely sensible pink suit. Hose. Buckled shoes of crinkly black leather. "Hi, Cully."
"Hi, Sue. Want a drink?"
She cocked her head. "Oh, I guess. You're a little nervous too, hmmm?"
He chuckled, squeezing her shoulder as he went to the dresser to make them a drink. "Yeah. First time, I admit that. I feel sort of cliched, you know? Clandestine meetings in motel rooms and all that, secret agent-y phone calls. And we're both happy at home, and we're not in love with each other."
She sighed. "Boy, am I glad you said that, Cully Hartman! Whew! I've been nervous ever since you called. But you said it all. I love Bert. We're happy together-we're sexually happy together. But ... you know damned well that you turn me on! I'm the kid who made the first proposition, after all."
He turned from the dresser, gazing at her. Then he glanced at the glasses. He didn't think he needed a drink. He wasn't sure he wanted one. But he put in ice and bourbon, asked her if she wanted mix or water, and went into the bathroom to add water to both glasses.
They sat there and had three drinks and talked, for three hours.
Cully glanced at his watch. "You know what?"
"Yeah. It's nearly eleven, we're fully clothed, and we've been getting into each other's heads, not bodies. And I have loved every second of it."
He smiled, shaking his head. "Um-hm. Me too, Sue. And ... you know what else?"
She answered only by gazing expectantly at him.
"It ain't gonna happen," Cully said.
She nodded. "I know." She put down her glass, smiling. "Let's go home to Bert and Melisse. I'll bet all four of us have a marvelous time tonight-and are those two ever going to wonder what turned us on!"
Cully laughed. They got up. They looked at each other. Then they came together and kissed, and that was very nice, but the pact was made-or unmade. Sue left. To give himself something to do while waiting a few minutes to separate their exits, Cully called home.
"Hi baby. Everything OK?"
"Sure. So how's it by you?" she asked, doing the silly accent that was the only one she had almost mastered.
"Good. Be home in about fifteen minutes."
"I'll have the light on. Want a drink?"
"Got a confession-I had one right here."
Tsk tsk-gotta watch that mixing business with pleasure, Cully! In that case I'll just mix myself one and guzzle it before you get here."
"Right. See you, sweetheart."
"See you. I love you."
"I love you, Melisse," he said, and meant it unconditionally.
Still having that silly secret-agent feeling, Cully flushed the lip stick painted cigarette butts, wiped the lip-sticked glass and flushed the toilet paper he used, and left. He drove through the city, feeling pretty silly ... and pretty good.
"Hi," he told his wife, squeezing her close and kissing her ear. "I've been thinking about you."
"Whhoooo! Evidently! At work?"
"You think I forget about you every time I leave this house?"
She squeezed him. "Oh Cully! What a lovely thing to say."
"Le's go bed."
"Le's go bed," she echoed.
A few minutes later she was sighing and groaning, playing with his cock with one hand and pressing his upper thigh with the other, while he kissed and suckled one still-swelling breast and slid a vaselined finger slowly, slowly in and out of her rectum.
"Um, sweetheart, that feels so good! I'd never have dreamed it would be so nice, until you just started, that night. Whatever made you get so interested in my bottom?"
"I've always been interested in your bottom," he said, "and your top." He gave her nipple a teasing but gentle bite. 'It's your ass-hole that's the new interest!"
His use of the word made her shiver.
"You really don't know what got me turned-on to your ass-hole?"
She shivered again. "Oh Cully-that word"
"Asshole. Asshole. Asshole. You have a lovely, hot, tight, slim tunnel of an ass-hole, darling."
She smiled. "That's funny-suddenly the word sounds nicer."
"Words haven't any power, or any meaning by themselves. It's what we do with them, how we use them, that gives them meaning; good or bad, nice or nasty, pleasant or sexy or dirty." "Like the word 'fuck.'"
"Pretty nasty word about ten years ago. Now it's used about everywhere, and by-I don't know, but it seems as if it's used by about everybody!"
"Not my parents. Where it's at with them is that they think sex isn't nice, so any words that have anything to do with it aren't either, hmm?"
"Yes, sure. There-you've got the whole thing, baby. You're wearing my longest finger all the way up your ass."
"Oooh!" She trembled, then squirmed a little, tentatively, and gasped. "Fantastic! It IS sexy! I was about to point out that words like 'ass-hole' don't have anything to do with sex, so how come they're on the naughty-naughty dirty list, too!"
He shrugged. "Eating's OK, taking in matter; excreting, letting out that same matter in a different form, isn't. Who knows why? Maybe somewhere there's a tribe of people who hide while they eat and shit in public. Maybe they get together for business shits instead of business luncheons."
She laughed. "You're pretty crazy sometimes, you know?"
"Crazy about you."
She sighed and squeezed his cock, hard. Her middle finger tickled lower, down in the little furrow separating his balls. He twitched his finger in her ass and slid the adjacent one into her cunt. It was very wet.
"Anyhow, though Melisse, this is sexy." He wiggled the ass-imbedded finger. "And now that it's all loose and open and receptive, I'm going to show you how a round peg goes into a round hole."
"What?"
"One of the euphemisms for cock used to be 'pego.' I've seen it in old-time pornography." He raised his head from her breasts and looked down into her eyes. "I'm going to fuck you in the ass, Melisse."
She shivered all over. "Sodomy!"
"Also buggery, not to mention rearward ramming and dirt-chute digging. Oh, and Socratism."
She didn't smile. "But Cully-that will hurt."
Slowly, very slowly, he drew his fingers out of her. She shuddered and moaned at their emergence. Then she gazed at them, as he held them up before her face.
"I don't think you know that you've had one of these in your pretty cunt, darling, and two, these two, up your anus."
"Two-"
He nodded.
"No, I didn't know-but ... Cully, this is still so much bigger?" She squeezed his cock when she said "this."
"I have made you ready, Melisse, and for months. Yes, it's bigger. And I will be very slow, and gentle, and you will be in charge. You'll expand to take it ... and don't forget this. You're still an anal virgin. And back when you were a virgm-virgin, it hurt when it came in too, didn't it?"
Gazing up into his eyes, she nodded. Her lips moved, the "yes" came out very softly. He let her watch him smearing vaseline on his prick. She shivered a little. He bent and kissed her.
"Turn over, Melisse. Onto your hands and knees, head down and butt up."
After another shiver, she squeezed him hard and then turned over. Her big tits flopped, then hung heavily beneath her when she pushed herself up onto her knees. Slowly, very slowly, she lowered herself onto her forearms and placed her cheek against the bed. He saw that her eyes were closed.
He fondled and caressed her upturned ass for a long while, terribly excited but holding himself in check. He let her feel the head of his penis, which was violently erect, slide up and down the valley that separated her hemispheric haunches. Her flesh twitched and tremors rippled through her. He was determined that she would feel less pain than any woman who had ever been rearwardly entered, and once again he added vaseline to her little anal crater and massaged it into her with two fingers. She hummed in pleasure and he felt her loosen up.
'Think about staying this loose and open, darling," he said. "You can control it, you know. You just have to concentrate."
"You ... are you torturing me, taking all this time."
"Tort-no, baby, I'm just being slow and gentle and making sure you're relaxed."
She wiggled her butt. "The waiting, thinking about it, that's torture. Cully ... put it in."
He slid his hard-on into the moist little crevice nestled between her quivering buttocks. It nestled there, warmed by the cheeks he held parted, poised for its entry into the tight little channel of her back-slot He began to push.
He pushed, feeling the kneeling woman tremble as she felt the hot pressure, the big head pushing and pushing, the tight ring of her anus slowly giving ground, opening, dilating, stretching slowly and helplessly around the huge invader while he held her dimpled ass-cheeks firmly apart.
She groaned and wiggled slightly forward, and he stopped the pressure instantly. Mentally, he counted off twenty seconds, Then he resumed pushing.
Reluctantly, submissively, the muscles of her anal sphincter gave away. The head of his cock vanished.
"Uh!" At that little cry from her, he was again still for long seconds, kneeling behind her with the head and first inch of his cock tightly ensnared in her ass-hole.
He felt her relax, felt an easing off of the pressure around his thick dick, as if the rubber band it seemed to feel was losing its strength and becoming flaccid. With a little smile, he ran his cock easily up her ass.
She moaned aloud, feeling it coming into her, opening up the wrinkled red flesh of her upturned behind. Well-braced with her hands and cheek against the sheet she groaned. It felt huge in her. And hot. She couldn't help clutching it inwardly. The soft interior membranes of her rectum clasped him tightly, lovingly. Helplessly.
"Darling?"
Her voice came back a little strained: "Hmm."
"You've just lost your anal cherry. Without blood, this time."
She shivered at the effect of those words, at once frightening and sexually exciting. "It-it feels huge. And hot, Cully, hot, so hot up my ... my..."
"Asshole. Up your hot tight ass-hole, baby. You've no idea how wonderful it feels."
"Up my ass-hole," she repeated, and he heard her draw in a long deep breath, then expel it in a sigh.
All this while he had held it there in her motionless. Now, very slowly, he eased it back out. She groaned and trembled, then emitted a quick, short little cry. He drew back until only the head was still inside her, waited several beats, and returned his full length again into the hot clutching deeps of her ass-hole.
"Ummmmmm," she crooned. "I-I-it's ... Cully, it's ... it feels good!"
He rubbed her buttocks lovingly, then reached beneath her to stroke and lightly squeeze her cunt. It wasn't just wet, it was leaking. She sighed again at his touch.
"Cully."
He slithered a finger around, just inside her wet vaginal lips. "Hmm."
"Cully ... fuck my ass-hole."
Cully knelt erect and began fucking her ass-hole. His cock slid in and out, and in again, and out, slowly, but slowly building up steam as his lust rose and her anal tube-way loosened and she began sighing and moaning in obvious passion.
He interrupted his gliding stroking to hold himself far up inside her, and reach around to fondle both her big dangling breasts. She moved one hand in to squeeze his, around her breast. He tweaked its nipple, carried her hand back under her to her own crotch, placed her fingers firmly against the open crack of her cunt
"God," she exclaimed excitedly, "it's so wet!" He felt her begin to rub. She began to move her body. Her buttocks brushed his skin.
He knelt erect again, clasped her large white ass-cheeks in his hands, and began pocking in and out of the dark round hole he had widened between the swollen white moons jutting out at the base of her back
He ass-fucked her harder and harder, faster and faster. It was absolutely, exquisitely marvelous, like nothing he had ever felt before around his cock, and yet the heavy coating of vaseline made the gliding so smooth and easy that he was not as swift to come as he had expected.
As a matter-of-fact she came before he did, and after that she was ramming herself back so hard, fucking her own ass, that she knocked the breath out of him. She cried out when it started pulsing warmly into her, and she told him then and later and next day and again and again that she had felt it felt every spurt of his semen pumping up her ass-hole.
CHAPTER NINE
That same night of Carole's wedding, thoughts of her brother slammed into her mind with entirely too much force when he had kissed her after the ceremony, passed from her mind as she and Brian drove away. They spent the next half hour eluding the car full of kooks following them.
Since he had an apartment in the faculty housing, rather than just a bachelor's room or two, they had decided that Carole would move in with him. It was both convenient and inexpensive. They went straight there, once they'd left the reception and gotten rid of the "posse" on their trail. They would have no honeymoon; they had both gotten Friday off, because university administrators and bankers are as unable as anyone else to resist the emotional requests of people in love who want to marry. But they both had to return to work Monday morning.
They screwed all weekend and the only time that either Brian or Carole Silone put on anything was when the paperboy came to collect, Sunday afternoon. He left beaming, with both his money and three records, a Baez and two Simon and Garfunkels that
Brian and Carole had each owned and thus duplicated. Brian went back into the apartment with the Saturday and Sunday papers . ...
... and was attacked by a giggling, exaggeratedly panting woman who called herself Hyde and tore off his robe and tried to impale herself on his cock while standing up.
With ease, chuckling, he lifted her slender body, carried her that way, facing him and with her calves locked behind him, out to the little kitchen, where he plopped her naked butt onto the kitchen counter.
Ignoring her squeal at the formica coldness of the counter top, he stood there before her, gazed grinning into her eyes, and screwed her standing up.
Then he fell down on the floor and complained about how bloody awful it was to be trapped in the clutches of a sexual vampire.
"I vant to bite your cock," she laughed, and stepped over him to the refrigerator. "But first I rejuvenate your zo-saxy bo-dy," she said, still imitating poor dead Lugosi, "vit food. A nice pizza for the dago boy."
"Keep your ethnic cracks to yourself!"
"Hmm ... come to think, my ethnic crack is leaking sperm. Par me while I go to the bathroom."
When she came back, still naked, he had the big frozen pizza in the oven and was bending over, peering in at it. She pressed her furry crotch very firmly against his buttocks and ground it around.
"Help!" he cried. "I'm being sodomistically attacked."
"Christ," she muttered, "I'll bet you couldn't say that word again! Wanna Coke?"
"No, coffee. I love you," he said, grabbing her and snapping her nakedness against his. His hands clamped her buttocks while he kissed her, and hers clamped his. Barefoot, they gazed directly into each other's eyes.
"Boy, I'm sure glad I'm not taller," she said. "I don't think I'd like looking down into your eyes. But I LOVE being able to stand here and just meet eyeball-to-eyeball this way!"
He smiled. "I like it too. And this. And this. And this. And these-"
He made her giggle as his fondling became tickling.
They ate the pizza in the bedroom, with her sitting there naked, her cunt sprung open and seeming to stare sideways at him.
"Time for dessert," she announced, when every crumb of the pizza had been tucked away, and she went for his crotch. She sucked him until he told her to stop.
She looked up. "Stop! I haven't had my dessert yet."
"I'll fuck your pretty face, darling, if that's what you want, and damned if I won't tickle your tonsils and give your belly enough semen to put you off your food. But I'll do that after we're old married folks--you know, like Tuesday. Right now I want to fuck, ride and be ridden, belly to belly, not just sit around and feel it pumping off down your throat."
She shivered. "Whew! That's pretty sexy talk! How about if I fuck you then, huh, huh, huh? Can I sit on you and fuck you, mister, huh, can I?"
He grabbed her, squashed her hard tits against his chest, and tried to bruise her mouth with his. Then he stretched out, smiling on his back. He reached down to take hold of his cock by the base and wave it at her.
"Come fuck me!"
"Just one second!" she cried, and he surprisedly watched the flying of her hair and the pistoning of her high, tight buttocks as she literally ran out of the room. A few seconds later he heard the flushing of the toilet, and she came back, also on the run. It still amazed rum that she could have such nice hand-sized cones of tits, and yet they were so firm they didn't bounce even when she ran. They only trembled sex-fly.
She mounted the bed, and when she straddled him and rose a little to get into position for her own immolation on his upstanding spike of sexual flesh, he saw that her face wore an expression of concentration.
She swayed above him, playing with the cock poised beneath her, rolling it between her hands, practically doubling her body to kiss its tip, then positioning herself again. She lowered herself very slowly and, he noticed, with great care.
Maybe she's a little sore, he thought. We've done precious little but ball for the past forty or fifty hours!
Then, with a rather tense-faced smile at him, she thrust herself down those final inches. He saw her clamp her lips over a groan of pain, and he cried out in surprise and concern.
She had rammed her butt straight down on his cock, spearing herself all the way up the ass in one swift downward stroke.
She hung there loosely, sitting on him with her shoulders drooping and the shine of perspiration on her forehead and upper hp. "I ... wanted you ... in me every-place," she gasped. "And ... your bride ... does have a ... maidenhead to offer you, darling. Just be ... still, please. There, there ... it's loosening up ... ummmm."
"Carole-"
"Sh. Be still, please. I Vaselined myself in the bathroom. Just ... be still ... ummmmm. Oh Brian, it's getting nicer and nicer! I LIKE you up my back like this!"
He reached out and stroked her thighs, wanting to press her tits but knowing that would make his cock move inside her before she was ready for those movements. "You're incredible," he said.
"I'm in love."
"God, so am I!"
"Oh Brian, I can feel you in me, feel you all big and hard and hot-and I can feel myself loosening up, too, getting ready, accepting you and getting all loose and open for your lovely cock! Oooh!" She shivered convulsively and clutched herself. "Oh, we're both going to love this!"
She was still for perhaps a minute, sitting on him with her thighs clamping his and her open pussy seeming to stare at him, neglected and open, while his prick filled her ass. She smiled, rather tightly but with less and less tension with each passing second, while she poised there with a rectum full of hard thick male tool.
"I love you," she told him in a soft voice.
"I love you, I love you!"
She smiled. "You're going to fuck my ass now, lover," she told him, and she began moving.
Rapt and enthralled, he lay there beneath her and watched her begin pumping her lithe body up and down on him. Each up-and-down glide drilled the full length of his driving bone between the swelling, creamy cheeks and into the tight hole of her ass. She gazed into his eyes, wearing a small smile and a look of happiness. He could feel her arousal, feel the fluids that came flooding into her gushy gash and ran out into his pubic hair.
He began to be able to see perspiration on her, gleaming richly on the silken body of the quivering, twisting girl. She rose up and down on him with a seemingly tireless energy and relish in fucking her own ass-hole. Her body hugged his with the valve-like opening of her ass, a satiny clutch that folded all around the angry red head of his cock.
"And ... how," she panted, "do you ... like being fucked, Mister ... Silone?"
"Oh dear lord, woman! You're ... it's . . he grinned. "I love being fucked, Mrs. Silone. The ... only problem is ... um! ... that if you don't squeeze my-cock off, you'll roast the poor thing!"
She sat all the way down on him and ground herself around in a bowel-piercing way that made her shiver and clutch herself.
"Shall I stop, then?"
"You stop now, darling, and I'll rape your ass all over this floor and maybe the ceiling too!"
She smiled broadly. Completely unintimidated by the turgidly swollen size of the big dick up her body's tightest channel, she fucked herself on it with moaning, sighing enthusiasm. He watched the quaking flow of the muscles in her belly, the tightening of stronger musculature in her thighs and flexing calves, the shudder of her acorn-shaped tits.
More wetness came oozing out of the parted lips of her empty cunt, and when he raised his head, propping himself on his elbows, he could see it sparkling on his pubic bush.
She was panting and working her buttocks down against his groin. Her steady movements rocked her, scoured her ass-hole in a deep penetration of its pulpy channel and bringing little moans of response from her sagging mouth.
He saw the sudden look of surprise in her eyes, watched them flare. Felt and watched her go into a sudden violent series of anal impalations on his upstanding prod-and listened to her cry out A sharp slapping sound split the air when she clapped both open hands over her well-spaced breasts and began grinding her palms in.
"My-my God, it's ... it's not-possible!" she squealed. "I-I'm going to comer
Then she did, and he lay there as surprised as she, watching her go rocketing to the peaks of ecstasy, squealing and sighing out keening cries in the force of her orgasm.
Straining the muscles of his thighs and stomach, he pumped his cock rapidly up and down in her abruptly contracting ass. The fountain of her womb was bubbling out its warm liquid while constant thrills jolted her in seemingly unending paroxysms of intense climax.
She was just starting to sag weakly forward when he shot out his hands and clapped them to her hips. She groaned aloud, rearing up and back, and then she began keening out her cries again.
"I can feel it, I can feel it, I can feel your come spurting in me! It's all hot and wet-ah, ah, ahhh, I can FEEL IT!"
Then she fell forward onto him. They drifted into sleep with his cock still wedged in her ass, which was too tight to allow him to go down.
When they awoke, it was nearly four in the morning and both of them blinked in disorientation. Then she moved, and groaned. His prick was still up her anus.
"Agh ... oh God, it feels huge up there ... do-do you want me to do it again?"
He shook his head. Carefully, he rolled her onto her side, facing him. Then, just as carefully and slowly, he slipped his semen-slick staff out of her back. She grunted and shuddered at the final emergence of the broad head. It came out of her with a wet pop.
Grabbing the box of tissues beside the bed, he dragged out a dozen and pushed them under her, at the same time turning her onto her back. She sighed and smiled languidly up at him. Her hands ran up his arms. He moved over her.
"Ummmmmmm," she sighed happily as it came sliding up into the hot cavern within her vagina. She wrapped her arms around him and lifted her knees to tilt her pussy up to him. "Umm ... I wonder how many times people have ever used semen as a lubricant!"
He chuckled, held her to him, and kissed her again and again, lying perfectly still with his sex buried in hers.
Then he began a long, slow, infinitely gentle fuck that slid him in and out of her with measured, almost metronomic strokes. By the time he at last came she had popped loose twice and was a shuddering mass of luscious girl-flesh under him. And the clock said 4:30.
CHAPTER TEN
"Well, just remember, Mister Hartman. Your wife's going to have a baby in just about a month, and I know what that means! You get tired of being celibate, you need a little ... relief, know what I mean? ... and you have only to mention it."
"Right, Mae. You're a sweetheart, a real friend. How're you at sodomy and giving head?"
The pretty secretary's fatuous leer faded. "MIS-ter Hartman! I'm NOT some kind of PER-vert!"
"Right, yeah, OK, Mae. Thanks, but I don't need any relief."
That night, while she knelt and he sat on the edge of the bed so she wouldn't have to lean far over, Cully watched his loving wife's mouth glide wetly up and down the glistening stalk of his cock.
Poor Mae, he thought. Ready to fuck the executive, ready to ball another woman's man, but ... this is against her principles! Now she's going to have an unhappy husband someday!
Melisse swallowed every drop she brought forth from his fountaining cock and then, in bed, he fingered her off while playing with her hugely, tightly distended tits.
"Christ, Cully, you must be going outta your skull! I mean, your wife's due in a coupla weeks. Our baby's still a month off, but Sally said the doc told her no sex for six weeks before AND six more after!"
"Uh ... yeah, Bill, it's a tough show, huh?"
"Yeah! Jesus! I mean, Sally ... well, you know how it is with women. They aren't horny like we men are, of course, and it was bad enough before, just once a week and sometimes not at all. I mean, she always complained so much about her period, you know, and she gets these headaches . ... But now...three fuckin' weeks-I mean three unfuckin' weeks already-and NINE more to GO!"
"Yeah," Cully said, trying to be sympathetic and not look smug. He wondered which was the worst liar, Bill's wife Sally or her doctor, and how a guy like Bill could be so damned competent here in the office when he was obviously such an ass-hole at home. "Yeah," Cully said again, going along, "it's tough."
"Well, I can't STAND it, Cull! There's a broad in Bookkeeping that's ... sympathetic, know what I mean?" He grinned and leaned closer. "And so's her roommate." Bill nudged him. "Interested, buddy?"
"Umm," Cully said, pretending to think about it "No, no thanks, Bill."
Bill stared. "CULly! You don't UNDERSTAND! I mean these chicks PUT OUT!"
Cully sighed. "I understand, Bill. And thanks, and have a ball. But ... no thanks, for me."
Now he thinks I'm some kind of weirdo or holier-than-thou, Cully mused. But ... I prefer women to "chicks," even when the woman's as swollen as Melisse. And she and her doctor aren't on any anti-sex conspiracy!
That night, while she lay on her side with her legs drawn up, Cully lay behind his wife and pumped his cock happily in and out of the channel of her ass. He was careful, and never violent with her these days.
His previous long, patient efforts had made her anus flexible, receptive. With a little foreplay and some vaseline she now felt only a few seconds of what she called "the good pain," when he first began easing into her. Then she lay there on her side and grooved on the ass-fuck as much as he did.
She had been very surprised, the first time this "perverted" activity-with his hands around her on her enormous blisters of tits-had sent her into a gasping, sobbing maelstrom of orgasm. Now he worked at pacing himself, loving the flowing stroking in and out of the snug, roasting hot tunnel to her bowels, so that she popped her rocks when he did.
"No, thanks Ted, but I think we'd better not make any plans this week. Melisse's due any day now."
"They're both fine, Mister Hartman. Your wife's a strong woman, one of those who seem just specifically designed for having babies. You've got a lovely daughter. You'll be able to see Melisse in a few minutes. "Oh-the baby's hair looks like it'll be dark, like yours."
"Doctor-"
"Don't ask, Cully. I swear; she's perfect. Ten fingers, ten toes, two eyes, perfect hearing-and, oh lord, a great pair of lungs!"
"Hi, Cully," Brian Silone said when his brother-in-law came out of Melisse's room. "Everything's fine, Doc Barr says."
"Hi Brian, Carole. Yeah, just perfect. Perfect, both of them. Nice of you two to come over."
"It's more than that," Brian said. "Our timing is fantastic-your wife's and mine, I mean. I've got to catch a plane in one hour and-six minutes. Economical planning conference up in Boston. Four days. So ... you've got a new housekeeper while Melisse's here in the hospital, Cully. No use both you and Carole being along in separate homes! Mister Hartman, Mrs. Silone!"
Cully objected.
He even argued a little, feeling something akin to terror at having Carole in the same house with him. But there's no turning-off people who want to be nice, to Do Something Nice, not without being a bastard. Cully couldn't be a bastard with his sister and brother-in-law.
So he and Carole and Brian drove over to the airport in Erlanger, and Cully stood there with a funny sensation in his gut, watching Brian and Carole clinch and kiss hard and deep.
And then Brian was only a receding roar and a winking red light in the night sky, and Carole and Culhane Hartman looked at each other.
She drove him back across the Ohio and to the hospital, keeping what would have been silence filled with chatter about the baby and about Brian's conference. In the hospital parking lot, Cully got out and into his own car. Carole followed him home. His hands were damp on the steering wheel.
They sat around talking and drinking, calling it a celebration, until twelve. They talked about everything-except themselves in the old days, the old days, and that ended just four days under a year ago, with his marriage. Everything was great: his job, Carole's job, Brian's job and his plans and ongoing work toward his doctorate. Great, just great, drink up and keep the silence filled.
And the undercurrent of tension, of things unsaid because they dared not even allude to them, was thick as the air above Los Angeles.
They said goodnight in the upstairs hall, jockeyed a little about the bathroom, made a deal on it, and said goodnight. She called, later, to let him know she was out of the bathroom, and she said good-night again. Then she went into what would be the nursery.
He showered, brushed his teeth, drained about half of his three Scotches-and-water and one beer into the toilet, and went back to slide into bed.
It felt empty. The silence was deafening. He switched on the radio, got WLW, and turned it low.
The bed remained empty and the radio's background noise wasn't the right kind of noise. He missed the sounds of Melisse's breathing, her radiant warmth, her little gasps or gentle moans when the baby kicked. He lay there with his eyes closed, trying to stop thinking and turn himself off.
It didn't work. Forty-five minutes later he got up and went to the bathroom again. Her door was open. She was still awake.
"You too? Need a tranquilizer, Cully?"
He responded with a nervous laugh. "Maybe I do, Carole. Thought I'd had enough alky to de-excite me and let me sleep."
"Well, after all, it isn't as if you'd had a lot of experience at being a new fatherl" She sighed. "Come in and talk awhile."
Cully's mind was like an alarm: Mistake, Tilt, Mistake...
He went in, though. To talk. She was in bed and he sat in the frilly, skirted chair Melisse had bought and covered. A nice place to sit while feeding the baby. Moonlight came in the windows in a shimmering corridor of silver. He could see her when she turned toward him, on the bed. She was wearing a loose-topped, white shortie gown he had never seen.
He could see it now. And the shining valley of her well-remembered breasts, and the dark spots of their tips through the cloth.
She was feeling about on the bedside table. "There an ashtray in here?"
He reached over. Their hands touched. Both of them twitched and something like a current of electricity jolted between them. They stared soundlessly into each other's eyes.
Then without preliminaries he squeezed her hand and moved swiftly out of the chair to the bed. She moved just as swiftly to make room for him. And grabbed him, fiercely and with hot hands, when he slid in with her. "Oh, Cully!"
"Carole ... damn, Carole!"
They lurched together, they joined body to well-known and remembered body, they united, lurching together and screwing hungrily and hotly and wordlessly.
When he had spurted into his sister's grasping vagina, Cully held her for a few minutes, then started to return to his room and his bed.
Her fingers slid around his wrist He paused; looked into the dark corridors of her eyes.
"It's happened now, Cully. Don't be silly."
He gazed into her eyes. He nodded. He returned to the bed with her, and they began again. Flat belly and small hard breasts with little but fantastically erectile nipples ... warm mouth, even thinner of lips than he had remembered ... compact little buttocks that just fitted in his palms ... juicy, burning hot slash between her trim, apple-firm thighs . ...
Strangely smooth, hairless face, a little stubble, but neither mustache nor beard ... slimmer body, longer, longer arms and legs, a thinner coating of hair and less stomach just as there was less chest ... a different feel to his cock, perhaps a little less long and a little more thick ... long, slim legs that moved over hers and between them ... less mat of hair rubbing on her nipples as he rose and fell on her, and no sensation of hair at all on her belly . ...
"Carole, I love you!"
"Cully ... Cully, yes, I love you!" She paused briefly, then: "But wait, wait, the sound of that ... I love BRIAN, Cully! I do, I do!"
"I haven't lain awake nights thinking about you, Carole. Melisse and I are in love with each other-it gets better all the time."
She sighed. "No no, wait, don't move, just be still awhile and let me feel it up me, feel you on me. Oh, I know, Cully, I know, big brother. We're both married and we love the people we're married to. And . ... "
"Yeah," he said, not happily. "And."
"Oh God DAMN, Cully!" She came abruptly, ferociously alive, dragging her nails over his back and hunching her body furiously under his. "Damn it, damn it, damn us-FUCK ME, big brother!"
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Cully went over to visit Melisse every evening, thinking how stupid, how bureaucratic and authoritarian it was for hospitals to have visiting hours for a "patient" who was not sick at all-and even to regulate the times her own husband could visit her. What was really a colossal joke was that he had to leave when someone brought the baby in to be nursed. Because he might contaminate the kid? Or because they would be embarrassed for him to see his wife's milk-swollen tits?
It would have been strange had Carole not gone with him, so she did. They tried to hide their secret, to conceal their tension, their nervousness from the happy blonde with the emptied, now-shrinking belly and the enormously swollen breasts. Then they went home. The two of them.
The first night they tried, but it didn't work. They tried to stay apart. They couldn't They did it again. And the following night they couldn't wait to get home, strip, and begin anew.
Neither of them had balled so much since their honeymoons.
"Do you love him, Carole?" Cully lay beside his sister, on his back, in her bed, slowly recovering from his draining orgasm.
She sat up swiftly, naked and slim and lovely. "Yes!" she hissed fiercely. "Be sure of that, Cully! I love Brian!"
"I believe you."
"I won't even ask you, Cully. It's so obvious that you and Melisse love each other. We're just ... we're just different, Cully, you and me."
"Sexual animals?"
"Not me. That is, yeah, okay, but not just an animal. There's been no one else; I don't think marriage and promiscuity are compatible. No, what I mean is that you and I are both capable of loving more than one person."
"And permanently hung-up on each other." She sighed. "Looks that way." Jesus I
They gazed sadly, helplessly at each other. And began again. He was soon flailing her body with his, cock-cramming her with a furious lustfulness that she matched with her cries and the grinding pumping cheeks of her tight little ass. They did not slow down for so much as a moment until each of them was toppling over the cliff into the boiling seas of orgasm.
They brought Melisse home on the fourth day. She and the baby-Aminda Jean, so they could call her Mindy-were both fine. Already Melisse had so much less stomach that she looked like sex on wheels, like a magazine-photo mammary freak, with those fantastic, shiny-swollen tits. She had asked about exercises, prompting Doctor Barr to laugh and tell her to wait a few days.
An hour after they got home, Carole left to pick up Brian at the airport.
"Why don't you bring him on over here?" Melisse asked. She was wearing the multicolored new caftan Cully had brought her, and she looked beautiful.
Carole arched an eyebrow at her and grinned. "My husband's been out of town four days, little mama. You kidding? I don't want to share him with you two!"
Melisse laughed, and noticed that Cully responded only with a very small, tight smile.
"Cully," she said that night, sitting up in bed with him in the chair beside her. "You know that woman in the other bed in my room at the hospital?"
"Mrs . ... ah, Clay? Sure. Her fourth kid, right?"
"Right. Lucky for me; she gave me plenty of pointers. She also loaned me the book she was reading. You wouldn't believe the title."
"Umm ... Babies and What Causes Them?"
Melisse laughed. "No, silly. It was called Incest: Less Taboo Than You Think."
A hot knot formed in his gut and he felt very warm. "Oh, yeah?"
"Urn hm. It was fascinating. All about how so many people start off, sexually, by messing around with their brothers or sisters. I really found it hard to believe! But Mary-Mrs. Clay-said that was how she and her brother started, and got most of their sex knowledge. When they were-are you ready?-twelve and eleven!"
He tried to act normal as he shook his head. "Mighty early. I don't think I could come, at either one of those ages, much less think about it!"
"Listen, Mister Sexy, I'll bet you started when you were eight!"
He grinned. Good, maybe they could get off that bad subject. "Nope. I was a lot older. Got turned on by this nursing mother, see? Big milky tits like footballs!"
She smiled. "They're a drag. I feel like a-a cow. Anyhow, then Mary said her husband admitted that he'd done a lot Of experimenting at home, too. With his older sister Ruth. He got his first screw, though, when he was about thirteen and a half. With his seventeen-year-old cousin. While her brother, who was fifteen, was right there in the same room, screwing Ruth!"
"Lord, honey, you sure got some sordid sister for a roommate. If we ever do this baby thing again, maybe we'd better put you in a private room!" Christ, he thought, my voice sounds shaky! And what made me say "sordid sister?" Get off this damned subject, dammit!
"Oh no, it was fascinating. And then I started thinking. About how funny you and Carole acted when you came to visit. like you were afraid to look at each other. But the next night you were both restless-"
"Melisse-"
"-like you couldn't wait to get out of that hospital and get home here. Then ... then I noticed this bed."
"Meli-what about our bed?"
She turned her blue-eyed gaze on him, and it was steady. "I changed the sheet at the last minute, right before I went to the hospital, honey. And ... oh, you've been in it, but you certainly haven't slept in it the last three nights."
"Melisse, I think you'd better-"
"I'm ... glad you and Carole used the bed in the guest room, Cully, rather than this one ... our bed."
"Jesus! Melisse!"
She sat up in bed, gazing large-eyed at him. "Yes, darling?"
And he could not lie to her. Was that strength or weakness, he wondered, not being able to lie to his wife? "Oh, my God," he said, and he got up and went downstairs. With shaking hands, he made a powerhouse of a drink, thought briefly about it, and then downed it. He made another.
"Cully?" Melisse called. "Darling-make me one too, will you? A weak one, now."
Jesus! He should get out of here-but how could he leave the house on her first night home? "It-it'll go through and booze up the baby!" he called back, because he did not want to go back up those steps.
"Just a weak one. Please."
So he fixed her one, too. And dragged himself back up the stairs. He had never dreaded anything more. He felt physically sick. He couldn't remember when he'd ever been more shook. The certain knowledge in his brain didn't help: that he loved Melisse, that she had done everything possible, everything he said and suggested, to be a good partner, in bed or out
Thank you, sweetheart," Melisse said, stroking his fingers with hers. "Darling? What about Brian?" She spoke quickly, keeping him there. "What if he learns about you and Carole, too, and gets all uptight or blows up or something?"
"Melisse ... for God's sake! We CAN'T just ... just talk about-"
"Cully . . , darling, we have to, don't we? Sit down, and let's do. We have to, you know that Am I crying? Am I screaming?" No. So he sat down, and they talked about it They talked for a long, long time. He wound up telling her how he and Carole had begun, so many years ago, and a lot more about their continuing love and lovemaking. Then Mindy went off, and Melisse went in to change her. She brought the baby back and Cully sat there and watched her nurse, via the trapdoor bra, watched his daughter drift off, sated and with a look of supreme contentment on her face. He watched the burping operation, heard the ugly sound, and sat there while Melisse took the child back to its own room.
"Cully," she said when she came back, "is ... is there anything sexy about ... watching her nurse?"
"No ... well, sort of. Those big tits ... wondering what it tastes like . ... "
"It's late, darling. We've talked half the night. Why don't you come to bed, and find out what I taste like." She pressed her distended jugs from beneath, lifting them on her palms. She would have to wear the nursing bra day and night. She let the big packages down gently. "Plenty left for my man."
She had made no accusations, never raised her voice. She hadn't wept. He couldn't understand it. Wondering helplessly when there'd be an explosion, Cully undressed and slid into bed. She was his woman, and he loved her, and it was damned good, being in bed with her again without all that belly. He caressed her, and she kissed him with fierceness. Then she offered, and he accepted the sweet-smelling, thumb-sized nipple. The taste was thick, sweetish, not like milk at all. A man could gag on this, he thought. But ... it was good, so erotic! He wrapped an arm around her hip and sucked her luscious breast.
Slowly, gently, while he sucked her milky tit, she pumped his cock. Her hand slipped and slithered up and down it, up and down, fingertips pressuring here and there, exploring and titillating the little hollows and the swellings of the veins and the seminal tube-way. His hand moved back over her hip and slid into her crotch, carefully and gently, passing over her nakedly shaven pussy.
She sighed. He found the little swelling at the tip of the sensitive slit and discovered that she was already wearing a clitoral hard-on. He pressed and rolled it, with care and gentleness, while his lips tugged at the thrusting, nearly crimson points atop her out-thrust breasts. Her hand kept moving, and so did his, and she began emitting little squeals of voluptuary joy.
Then she was shuddering and moaning in the highest joy, babbling her love through her panting, in the supreme ecstasy of fulfillment.
Her hand worked on, pumping hard and fast. He too began groaning, tightening up into ejaculatory stiffness. Then his throbbing cock was spewing jolting bursts of masculine seed over her soft belly with seismic tremors of his exploding loins.
He was embarrassed, next morning, to awake and realize that he'd gone to sleep sucking titty.
There was no explosion from Melisse about Cully and Carole. Mindy thrived, and slept through her tenth night home. That was the same night that Melisse sucked him off and Cully, a little less careful as she showed no sign of pain in her stubbly cunt, fingered her to orgasm.
"You don't have to be that gentle," she said. "Tin NOT wounded or anything, and it's been two weeks since-ummmm, darling!"
There was no explosion. On her fifteenth day home, with Mindy nineteen days old, Melisse told Cully she had called Doctor Barr.
"I didn't ask him," she said. "I told him we were going to fuck."
They fucked. It had been close to a month since he had felt the fleshy clutch and hot wet lips of her cunt, and more than two weeks since he'd come anywhere but in a hand.
It was wonderful. He was slow, gentle and careful, as though he were balling a virgin. She sighed and squirmed beneath him in voluptuous excitement and pure pleasure, caressing his crotch with her slowly undulating hips. He pushed in, digging in against the sheet with his toes, submerging his cock in her, shoving in and withdrawing, her body happily accommodating his feverishly inflamed meat, undulating in smooth sensuality beneath his. The up-bulging hills of her inflated tits, naked and beautiful, heaved and shook and thrust at the air with their long thick tips.
Holding himself in check, being slow and gentle, was an agony to him. He desperately wanted to blow the gentle gliding and fuck her hard and fast and deep, whipping and driving it in and out with all the speed and power he could generate with his humping, hunching body. But he did not, and his control only heightened his pleasure, and hers.
When it at last burst from him, it was better than any orgasm he could remember.
"A nursing mother's not supposed to be able to conceive," she smiled, after he had slid from her and watched her finger herself off, which was fun for both of them. "But I think I'd better hop into the bathroom and do a little something about this gallon of semen you gave me, just the same!"
Things slid back to normal, and the following night she asked for it up the ass. He was more than pleased to comply. She knelt before him, big white ass upturned, while his vaseline-smeared cock slipped in and out of the tight clutch of her rectum. He fucked hard, in no danger of hurting her in this channel that so many thought of as painful or worse. Again and again his big shaft plunged deep to pump her full of glorious sensuality and life.
Kneeling with her too-heavy tits brassiere-encased to save her from their weight, she strummed her passion-button all the while he fucked her ass-hole with ever-increasing energy.
She had been treated like an invalid too long, she told herself. Why, grandmother had said she had done the family laundry the day Melisse's mother had been born, and the woman before that, her grandmother's mother, claimed to have chopped wood and baked two cakes and a pie, after delivering herself I
I like this, Melisse thought, feeling the hard jarring thumps of his body against the back of hers, the distended crown of his driving tool way up inside her, rushing along the tunnel of her stretched and straining ass-hole.
He reamed up and down the snug anal channel, watching that beautiful bent body jerk and shudder before him. The large out-thrusting cheeks quivered around the pistoning power of the thick prick that lanced her ass like an open wound. It loosened up more and more as her intensifying need flared.
Suddenly she thrust back against him, almost savagely.
"Ah," she groaned, and then raised her head and called it out: "AH! AHHHHH-Rgglmhhhh!"
Her plucking fingers and the thick, hot intrusion at her anus produced such pleasurable sensations that she began agitating her hips happily from side to side as if she were being whipped. Juices came pouring out of her cunt and she smeared them all over the straining love bud her fingers strummed. Her own movements aided his swollen meat to screw and skewer her, fucking steadily up her back in a flaming possession of her tightest bodily orifice. She could feel him in her, could feel, with a delighted and delightful inner tingling, the hot elastic tunnel, flowering wider and wider until it seemed to be gulping at his cock.
She began screaming out her shivery climax before his arrived. She came in a chorus of shivering squeals of ecstasy, jerking with wave after wave of marvelous spasms. They went on and on, spasms that just would not quit
Hanging onto her upturned cheeks very tightly, he drove himself in and out between them and deep into her climaxing body with a sudden fury.
He caught up, groaning, and the quivering grotto of her ass-hole was utterly filled with the sluicing copiousness of his semen. He transferred every ounce of his come from his body into hers.
They squirmed on the bed, hanging onto each other, his semen-smeared cock wiping itself slickly across her belly.
"I love you, God, how I love you," he told her, and she knew with a woman's absolute certainty that he meant it
CHAPTER TWELVE
The Cowpers gave a party five weeks after Mindy Hartman's birth.
Melisse spent a lot of time talking and dancing with Bert Cowper. He had raised a handsome mustache, and although he was getting a lot of teasing, the consensus was that it enhanced his looks. His coloring was medium fair, his eyes blue, and his hair brown; the mustache came in mostly red.
Melisse liked it, announced that she had always wanted to be kissed by a man with a lip-tickler, and then tilted up her face and puckered her lips. The other guests whooped and yelled as Bert Cowper hung one hell of a kiss on the new mother.
When he raised his head, it was to find that the other female guests had formed a line. Bert kissed them all, with enthusiasm. There were no serious complaints.
Cully, meanwhile, felt as if he were fending off Bert's wife, Sue. He kept remembering the almost-night with her, with some embarrassment. He deliberately danced with others, just to be unavailable to Sue.
He went home with a strong urge in the balls. He and Melisse screwed hotly and juicily and rather noisily. (They never closed the door to the baby's room. It worked. She slept soundly, and she slept through anything.)
"Umm." Melisse smiled next morning, rubbing her loins. "You really got turned-on last night didn't you-it was so good!"
"Must've been," he grinned. "We were like honey-mooners, weren't we?"
"I wouldn't know ... the only honeymoon I've had any experience with had a sort of reluctant wife."
"Sex fiend!" he remembered, and laughed. They fondled each other.
"Whatever, last night we were both turned-on," she repeated, and then she said, "Bert and Sue!"
"What?"
"What, my eye!" Melisse cried. She hiked up on one elbow and grinned down at her prone husband. "It was Bert and Sue, all right! Let's ask them over Saturday night, darling. They're both hot for both of us. So ... why not?"
"Christ, Melisse..."
"What?"
"I ... I keep getting the feeling, every now and then when you surprise hell out of me like this, that the hospital didn't get the babies mixed up ... but they sent me home with a different woman!"
She laughed. "I've had a year now, a year of your tutoring, a year of sex, darling. Of course I'm the same ... but I'm not, either! You married a girl, darling, and was she ever. Now you're married to a woman!"
"I sure as hell am!" He put the grabs on some definitely woman-type flesh.
"Get your hand off that milk wagon and get your mind back on next Saturday night. Cully? You want to ball with Sue and Bert?"
"Well, let's, ah, talk about it," he said, thinking he was losing a bit of control around here.
So they talked about it.
So they invited the Cowpers over Saturday evening. To ball with them, although that wasn't mentioned on the phone. With plans aforethought, but with no malice.
After that, the week seemed to drag for Melisse, although fortunately a chunk of work and a couple of problems came up at the office, and Cully had no time to dwell on their first swinging experience, upcoming. And then, finally, it was Friday night, TGIF, and then Saturday, and Saturday evening.
The Cowpers came one minute early, Bert wearing a good-looking shirt and a pair of purple velvet pants that everybody had to feel. In a pair of black, enormously belled hip-huggers and white blouse with laces in front, Sue was just as sexy-in a quite different way-as Melisse in a swirling, silky-feeling caftan.
They had some drinks, and they danced. Cully surprised Sue by beginning to fondle her tight-skinned, round little ass, but she wasn't put off. She rubbed her crotch against him and held him more tightly. Guiding her over to the chair by one of the room's two lamps, he switched it off. She nuzzled and rubbed.
If she'd been a cat she'd have been purring. Cully made sure that Bert saw him fondling his wife's compact rump.
Then they got a little involved, the dance becoming a charade, an excuse. When he thought about Bert and Melisse again, they were on the couch. They were doing some heavy petting and deep kissing.
Cully told himself: That's my wife over there exchanging tongue and caresses with that man, and that's my wife's juicy tit he just stroked. And what do I feel? Excitement Interest Fascination. Happiness ... hell, delight, for all of us! My husbandly chauvinism doesn't take the form of jealousy; that's my woman, and she had a baby only six weeks ago, and he's hot for her. And that makes me feel good-and proud!
He and Sue were still dancing, old style-or sort of; surprising how slowly you could move to Moody Blues, when you wanted to!-awhile later, when Melisse's voice rose above the music.
I think I'd better go check the baby," she said. "Bert? Want to come along?"
"Oh yes, sure, why not Think a mustache'll scare her?" And laughing, they went upstairs.
"You know what?" Cully murmured, his lips against Sue's ear.
"What?"
"They ain't gonna come back."
"Good for them. Good for us" she said, rubbing his butt
"Yeah-but those clever skunks have done gone and left ussens with just the couch."
She giggled. "Well there're also chairs. And the floor . ... "
He drew her over to the couch.
"Cully?" She met his eyes with hers, and held them. "This time, Cully, it happens."
"Yeah. This time it does, Sue." He pressed her breast
"You ever told Melisse about our crazy night at the motel."
"No."
"I never told Bert, either."
"Been really godawful if one of them had found out wouldn't it," Cully said. "We'd have found out what it means to be hanged for a lamb rather than a sheep!"
"I think that should be goats. Goats are the randy ones, aren't they?"
He shrugged, squeezing her shoulder with his arm across her back. "All animals are randy. It's just that man's the crittur who's always doing something about it
"But female animals just come into heat every now and then, once or twice a year, isn't it?"
"I don't know," he said, exploring a smallish cone of breast well-separated from its twin. "I've never taken much interest in female cats, rabbits, dogs and so on. It's female homo sapiens that interest me."
"Um, that feels nice. And you're interested in this one ... are you randy?"
"Yeah. I want to fuck you, Sue."
"Good. I want to fuck you, too." She slid her hand into his crotch again and groped fondly. "You really keep an erection, don't you?"
"Until it's all used up, yeah."
She squeezed, at the same time surging her breast into his hand. "Let's use it up, then! Wow-I just thought-what a thrill for my Bert! Those great big milky tits of Melisse's, I mean. Being around here makes me feel inadequate."
He squeezed. "Nicely hand-size," he said. Then he smiled. 'Is Bert a sucker?"
"What?"
"Does Bert like to suck titty."
"Don't all men?"
He chuckled. "Well, anyhow, he's going to get a bit of a pleasant shock."
"She's nursing the baby?"
Sue was no working on his buckle, then his zipper. He had gotten the laces of her white blouse loosened and was sliding his fingers around inside. Very warm. She wore an odd little bra Made of nothing more than close-knit nylon net, it was only a couple of straps and a couple of soft pouches. No boning, no stitching, nothing. Just a pair of little sacks to hold her up and relatively still.
"Yeah," Cully told her, tweezering the hard spots he found in the bra.
"Uh-mmmm!" she moaned, quivering at the nipple pressurings. She had her hand in his opened pants, and was exerting much the same sort of pressure on his cock. Then she giggled.
"Does it taste nice?"
"That?"
"No, Melisse's milk!"
"How would I know?" Cully spoke with exaggerated innocence.
"How, indeedl Umm-that's a very nice poker you carry around with you, Cully Hartman!"
"All the better to stoke your coals with, m'dear. Yes, it tastes nice."
"This?"
"No, Melisse's milk."
She chuckled. "Good for Bert, then. Hell enjoy that, if Melisse gives him suck."
"She will. Here, this blouse has to come over your head, doesn't it? Arms up, please. Melisse's breasts are extremely erotic. I think she gets turned-on every time she nurses the baby."
Sue laughed, holding her arms up while he drew the blouse up and off. She gave her head a shake to partially restore her dark hair, the only attention she vouchsafed on it He slid his hands all over the softly packaged lumps of her breasts, exerting pressure with his palms. Using her shoulders in a gyrating movement, she pushed her tits into his hands to gain even more of that welcome male pressure.
"I think none of us ever gets over the desire to suck," she said in a very low voice, "or to be sucked."
"Probably right." He was interested in doing, not dunking or talking.
He lifted his butt so she could slide his pants down, and stayed up while she got his shorts off, too. Catching a fingernail down one buttock, he winced slightly. She stared, bright-eyed, at the thick meaty staff that prodded up above his groin. She smiled and enclosed its warm girth in her hand, experimentally.
"You sure make my hands seem small," she said.
"I'm tired of this thing," he said, and slid the nothing bra upward. It cleared her tits, which jumped wildly, freed to descend a little and seemingly flaunt their dark, red-brown nipples at him. He leaned close to lick one, making her shiver.
"Oh damn, Cully-let's get the rest of this stuff off!"
They both stood and stripped hurriedly. She wrestled a little with the bra he had shoved up on her chest, while he got out of his shirt and sat down again to clear off his shoes. She was bending his way, running her hip-huggers down to expose a soft-looking little pouch of a belly, very white and crinkly as she bent, and a skimpy pair of nicely contrasting purple panties. He ducked his head, caught one breast on the fly, and give its firming tip a swift suck.
Again trembling, she continued leaning over. With her pants around her ankles, she gave the tip of his upstanding cock a nibbling little soul-kiss. He groaned and grasped an elongated titty-cone in each hand, palpated them as if he were an MD looking for lumps. He found two, right on the ends, and they were getting harder and fatter.
Then he slid one hand down over the marshmallow softness of her belly and directly into her pants.
Hers was the silkiest bush he had ever felt, and he fondled it with tactile pleasure. When he curved a finger back to tickle between its well-defined lips, he found her abundantly wet inside.
Sue made sighing sounds around his cock. She shoved her mouth on down it until the head and a couple of inches of the staff were enclosed in her dilating mouth. Her face looked longer and thinner, with her cheeks sunken in. She began moving her hips, squirming her pussy on his finger. With the other fingers of that hand, he cupped the underbulge of her silky-haired mount.
Managing to force her feet out of the pants, she left them on the floor and returned to the couch beside him, half-sitting and half-lying in a precarious position that enabled her to mouth his cock while he had free access to her cunt. It was still pantied, and he remedied that with a lot of squirming around.
Then he had two fingers up her positively dripping, unusually hot pussy and she was letting her head glide up and down, fucking her face on his prick.
He sought out her clitoris. It was poorly defined, the head not completely emerging from a sheath that must have been too tight. But the definite lump of it was there, and he rolled it with the ball of his thumb.
"C-Cully ... you ... you'll make me-"
"Come," he said, rubbing, rubbing, and letting his finger slither around up inside the humid interior of her salivating cunt
She gave him a hard suck, shivering and sighing. Her crotch was beginning to buck, in a helpless and unbridled passion. Panting, she went after his cock like a starving animal, and Cully groaned, and she groaned louder than that and then she bit him as she came.
"Ugh-owch!" he groaned, cramming his fingers so far up her shallow pussy that she winced. The inner flesh was contracting firmly around him, again and again.
Her mouth slid off his cock. "Ah God, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she moaned, wallowing loosely. "So good, you're such a good man ... oh, did I go off I"
"Good," he said, holding her warmly. "My turn now."
"Want me to suck it off?"
The suggestion sent a lustful tremor through him, but he shook his head. "No. I want to get my prick where my fingers were. You feel like a furnace inside."
Starting to scramble around, she slid off onto the floor with a little squeaking noise. Cully didn't pull her back up; grinning, he followed. For a moment he crouched there, looking down at her nakedly, lewdly sprawled body, long and slim, its whiteness broken by the shining bulge of her pubic hair and by her very dark nipples.
Then he was on his knees between her spread legs.
She grinned at him, wiggling her pelvis cradle in a wanton titillation of his lust for her. She looked lovely, stretched sweetly and slimly beneath him, naked and waiting, moving her body for him. Her hand found his cock, enwrapped it, tugged. She hunched her soft, fleshy split at his crotch.
Watching himself, he shoved it in. He saw the swollen lips, dark pink, spread wide as his prick made its way onto her cunt and slid wetly on into the inner reaches of that soft, hotly wet nook. She was hot inside. And so snug; her inner flesh seemed to grip his big turgid glans and push it up against the mouth of her womb.
She pulled him down onto her. They lay still, each of them feeling the presence of the others body, inside and out.
He began pumping, slowly, with measured strokes.
Her nipples skidded across his heaving chest and chills rushed up and down her spine as she felt every hot millimeter of his big cock, punching steadily into her.
She wasn't like Melisse. She wasn't like Carole, either. But she felt as good as either of them, and better still because she was a new face, a new mind, a new body, a new cunt to house his rampaging prick. How good that was!
Born twenty years too soon, Cully thought, stroking her slowly, with a metered precision so that he could linger over each in-and-out movement and feel every aspect of it. With changes in morality, with new knowledge of sexuality and the bullshit they'd been taught for so long, with a contraceptive pill for women now and one coming for men, he was sure that by End of the century, at least, multiple marriages or casual swinging would be far more widespread-and popular, and at least semi- "accepted" than ever before in the history of this horny creature called mankind. And that would be good. There would be less divorces, and thus less unhappy kids and hopefully less parasitic lawyers.
He was not a man who needed outside sex, certainly. He and Melisse had it all, and with love. But ... variety was damned marvelous, so almost necessary. He thought that no matter what he and Sue did, or how long or for how many times, he'd want to plunge his body into Melisse's as soon as the Cowpers were gone.
Fucking another woman wasn't a substitute; it was a marital aid!
And Melisse, incredibly, had been the final instigator. He hoped she was enjoying it as much as he was, with his hot, ebullient pole of lust sawing happily away in another woman's hungry pussy.
Upstairs, Melisse was enjoying it.
She was happy because Bert was, and because he knew how to ball. His body rose and fell over hers now, and it was strange to feel the slap of his belly. He wasn't fat, but Cully didn't have enough stomach to merit the name. Which was great with her-but how nice it was to feel something different!
She could smell herself, sweet and sticky, on his breath. She had loved sitting there looking down at his head, listening to the sucking sounds he made, the swallowing sounds, while he sucked the taut fat buttons of her milk-gorged tits. After a long, long time of that, he had merely half-risen, pushed her back onto the bed she'd been sitting on, and pushed straight up her. Both of them were quite sufficiently excited to make it an easy, gliding entry, and he was soon pounding her.
Pounding her harder than Cully had in months. She'd have to tell him that she was fine now and could take it hard and hot and heavy, the way Bert was throwing it to her now, rather than with the considerate gentleness Cully had been adhering to.
Again and again, this other man's rigid bone furled back the fat rosy lips to drive searingly deep into her flowing pussy. Plunging it deeply and ruthlessly, so obviously enjoying the feel of her beneath him and the feel of her cunt around his meat and the huge tits that could have contained six like his wife's, he worked her vaginal hole into a rich sexual pudding. Her heavy thighs rose, tightened around his bobbing hips and ass, writhing and shuddering as she felt herself getting slippery all over in the grip of a hot, tingling fire of lust
Gazing lovingly down at her, he paused. He eased his body back until only the swollen head of his throbbing cock-she could feel its blood-pumping throbbing-was wedged firmly between the swollen lips of her pussy. They, too, throbbed. The feel of those open folds, wet and soft and juicy around his cock, filled him with irresistible surges of passion.
"You feel wonderful!" he told her in a fervent, from-the-throat voice.
What a nice thing to say, she thought, feeling warmed by his words and his eyes, and she smiled happily. She tugged at him.
"So do you, in me. Get back in, all the way!"
He drove it back in, all the way, and again began riding that big, huge-breasted blonde body. He began working up a steady rhythm, faster and faster and harder and harder into her slippery cunt. She shivered and groaned and he felt the tremor of her belly beneath his. A strong sexual urge rose in the warm, plump bulge of her cunt, its fur not yet completely grown back from the hospital's shaving.
She tried to clamp down on him, even as his blood-bloated cockhead plowed through the swollen and slippery lips and deep up inside her. But she hadn't that much strength and control back in those muscles, yet. She couldn't squeeze worth a damn. On the instant she resolved to spend minutes every day, just working to reinvest her cunt with squeezing power!
Meanwhile, she could sure as shit move the rest of her body, and she did.
She slammed herself up to his strong, pummeling body. Her big tits went into a wild dance on her chest, batting his. Her hips ground into him. Her butt squirmed and clamped tightly under her, her whole body arching. Her eyes leaked happy tears as waves of hot pleasure flowed through her with the force of his every lunge into the smooth warm canal of her pussy.
Suddenly her hands were clawing at him. "Grind! Grind! I'm come ... cominnnng!"
He ground his pubic bone down hard on hers and jerked his hips. His cock whipped and flopped about inside her. She squealed aloud and clutched him.
Then, orgasm was a bolt of electric fire that sent her into massive convulsions. Her body felt as if it were being jolted apart by the violent power and glory of her climax.
That made her cunt squeeze him, and he joined her in groaning completion. Her inner body took hot spurts of the first semen other than Cully's she had ever received. She loved it, and she hunched up to receive it. Then she was still, clasping him to her in the bliss of complete carnal satisfaction.
They played around with each other after that, but Bert had really blown loose, and he was obviously wearily. She gave him a kiss, sitting up but not rising while he dressed, smiled back at her, and left. They had already heard someone in the bathroom, and knew that he wasn't going to come onto his wife and Cully still in the throes.
Melisse sat there thinking about it, looking down between the heavy bulges of her breasts to watch another man's sperm trickling around and out of her inflamed pussy slit. She smiled. Good, good, good!
Then Cully came in, wearing only his pants and carrying his shirt and shoes. He grinned at her. She smiled back.
"Everything OK, baby?"
She nodded. "Everything's fine. Lovely. You?"
"Oh yes. It's fun, isn't it, Melisse. I mean ... someone ... different. Love isn't even involved, and we all know it."
She nodded, all of a sudden feeling a little nervous.
"You made it, baby?"
"Yes! We both did. And ... you and Sue?"
He nodded, hanging up his pants. "Positively. And ... you know what?"
She shook her head, watching him, watching his limply flopping pecker as he moved from the closet over to the bed where she sat
"I love you," he said. "And man do I ever want you!"
"You mean now?"
"I mean now!"
"Oh, darling-I'm so glad!" she cried. Her nervousness died and she could have cried in happiness. She fell back, lifted her knees and spread her feet well apart. She stretched out her arms. "I'm so glad! Get in here, get in here then, darling, and screw me!"
"Hell, I'm not even all the way up ye-"
She laughed joyously, tugging at his cock. "Yes, you are! And, boy! is that a happy turn-on! You come in here fresh from balling that super-slender Sue and get a hard-on just from seeing me!"
"Not just from seeing you, baby-uh, oh, that feels good going in! I've been thinking about you, too."
"While you were fucking another woman?"
He nodded. "You won't tell on me, will you?"
She laughed aloud, hunching her penis-filled pussy. "Never! That's the most beautiful thing you've said to me since I will.' Now-do it, do it, screw me-"
"Christ-I've still got Sue's pussy on my cock ... and that's his semen I'm sliding around in, isn't it?"
"Yesss!" Her voice hissed with the intensity of that word. "Yess! And isn't it exciting!"
A few moments later, she said, "No no, not like I'm fragile, darling! FUCK me! POUND it in, Cully!"
"You're sure you're OK...? "
"Yes yes yes," she cried, tugging. "I'm fine. Pound it in, sock it to me, if I'm sore in the slit tomorrow, it'll just be a reminder of how much I love youl Now let me feel it!"
He rammed it in, jerked it out, slammed in hard again in a way that made her groan. He jerked and pummeled her with his hips, riding the delicious swell of her mounded cunt with his rock-hard cock beating body against her vaginal walls. His loins bore strongly down on hers in the ancient, hard-pounding drumbeat of passion.
He fucked her, balled her, screwed her, tried to fuck his way through the back wall of her cunt.
Neither of them was swift to come, because this was not the first time of the night.
But both of them did come, shatteringly, and they fell gloriously asleep, and next day they exchanged notes and impressions and feelings and plans. They went to bed early, all turned-on anew.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
"I've told Brian about us, Cully" Carole Hartman Silone said, as she passed the joint to her brother for a toke.
After a rather long silence, Cully decided the bombshell was going to he there, not explode. He said, "I hope you don't have any Mafia connections, Brian."
Everybody laughed, and the tension was lessened that much, anyhow. Cully felt proud. But he still wasn't certain that he didn't want to strangle his sister.
Brian shook his head. "Nope. Wish I did." He accepted the butt from the other man, sitting cross-legged, approximately beside him on the floor. The four of them formed a tight little circle in the Hartman living room. "I'd get this grass a lot cheaper, if I did! Also, maybe I could be president of the damned university-about tomorrow morning!"
He sucked in, passed to Melisse. She handed it to Carole without dragging on it. She had a rum and cola, but would not touch grass. Melisse wasn't sure if it had any effect on Mindy or not Certainly onions, garlic and the like went straight through her nipples and into the infant!
"I think it's just fascinating," Melisse said, "that Cully and Carole learned about sex together. Nice too; I didn't have any brothers or sisters, and Mother and Dad were all hung up. Still are. This man," she said, thumping Cully's thigh with her hand, "had my maidenhead last month a year ago. And yours too, long before; isn't that odd? He's spent a year teaching me what a child I was. Anyhow, Carole ... how much did you tell Brian about the sexy Hartman kids?"
"Brian?" Cully said. "Is this conversation putting you off?"
"Nothing could put me off right now, Cull. I'm feeling that rope! Anyhow ... no. With me it was the little girl next door. Mary Jean. Mary Jean was like a sister to me. We went from playing doctor to playing daddy and mommy, and we fucked when we were fourteen. She was about a month older than I was by the calendar, years by her mind and body. Precocious. Fantastic tits."
"How much did I tell him?" Carole repeated, returning to Melisse's question as she exhaled, long and slow. "What do you mean, 'Lisse?"
"I mean ... how much time did you cover?"
"Oh. Crafty, aren't you! I think we're all getting it on pretty good, and you and that drink are staying down while we go up. You gave the kid her last slug of milk for the night, and you said she never wakes before seven. Why not either do some dope with us, or have another drink?"
"I ... OK. I'll have another drink."
"Good. Anyhow, what you want to know is, did I tell Brian about Cully and me while you were in the hospital and Brian was in Boston, right?"
Melisse sighed. "Well, that answers that."
"Yeah," Brian said. "Funny thing is, both Carole and I were feeling guilty when I got back. For about a week after, until we, ah, exchanged stories."
Melisse leaned forward with a little smile and an expression of high interest. "About what?"
"About how there are some female economy professors in this country," Brian said with his usual small smile, "and about how sexy some of them are."
Cully grinned. "In Boston?"
"Well, in Boston they probably grin and snort and say In Cincinnati?' But actually, Anna's from right here in Ohio. Columbus."
"Oh, Ohio State?" Cully said, thinking: Be damned! Brian!
"Uh-huh," Brian nodded. "Younger than I am, but she's already got her doctorate."
"Brian's a status climber," Carole giggled. "Hey, I'm not going to try to drag off this! Anybody want to gulp the roach?"
Her reply was a chorus of emphatic negatives.
"Here," Brian said, "put it in the ashtray then, and separate this stuff out. Good stuff in the roach...concentrated tetarhydrocannabinol."
"Jesus," Cully muttered, noting how the wrinkles in the curtain seemed to be forming faces. "If I'd known that was what's in pot I might've stuck with booze!"
"Stop being scientific," Carole said, giving her husband a dig in the ribs with her elbow. He used thumb and forefinger to thump her nearer breast, making her squeal and shiver.
"Well," Melisse said, "so now we all know about us."
"Let's tell them about ... you know," Cully said. "Cow."
"COW!" Carole cried.
Melisse laughed. "A couple we know. Bert and Sue Cowper. We've ... ah, I think the word is 'swung' with them, although that sounds so ... formal or something. Several times now, starting a few weeks ago, after a party they gave.
"No kidding," Brian said, examining a new stick for stemperforations in the paper. "Fun? See, Carole, I told you they were liberated human beings!"
"Bert has a mustache," Cully said. "Melisse-likes hairy faces."
"Heehee-HEE!" Brian tugged at his beard.
"Bad enough my brother marries another woman, and a titsy one at that," Carole grumped, pretending to pout and clamping her tight-bloused tits with both hands. "Now he's makin' it with still another chick! What's this one like, stud?"
"She's built just like you," Melisse told her, "and she's dark, too, like you."
"Awwwww," Carole said, smiling and lowering her head in imitative demureness, and Brian laughed. Then he looked at Melisse, match in one hand and new joint in the other.
"Going to join us this time, Melisse?"
"Nope. I am going to get another drink, though.
Really; I just don't know what the effect of pot is on nursing babies."
"Ask your doctor," Carole suggested, perfectly seriously, and then looked up with a giggle of realization.
"Sure," Cully snorted. "Everything You Always Wanted To Know About Marijuana and Babies But Were Afraid To Ask Your Doctor!"
They all laughed, trying to picture Doctor Barr's reaction.
Getting the new joint properly lit, Brian handed it to Carole. He got up, then, and held down a hand to Melisse. His voice came out strained; he was holding his breath.
"Come on, sister'n-law. I'll escort you to the kitchen and show you my great self-control."
She let him pull her up. "Self-control? Of what?"
"Self!" He laughed, then he said, "How I can watch, even help you make a drink without ever touching a drop or going ape."
"What he really means," Carole called after the departing pair, "is how he can go back there alone with you and keep his hands off your fanny."
"Off her fa-with those jugs?" Cully cried.
"Brian," Carole said, leaning back and stretching out a leg to poke at his crotch with a stockinged foot, "is a butt man. Thank God!"
They all laughed, and then Melisse's voice erupted from the kitchen: "Brian!"
"So my self-controls limited to alcohol. Carole said I was a butt man!"
Carole was gazing steadily at Cully, still leaning back with her hands planted on the rug behind her. Her legs were wide. "Well, big brother."
"Well, little sister. Maybe we ought to write a book. First it was incest-"
"And now it's going to be swinging ... right?"
"Looks that way."
She gave him a lecherous grin. "Yeah-but if what I think is starting, is starting ... call it swinging incest."
"Incestuous swingers!"
"Do you two," Brian's voice came, "think we should talk about that, or just decide what to call it?"
"That?" Melisse snapped. "This!"
Carole and Cully looked up. Melisse stood facing them, just in from the kitchen doorway. Behind her was Brian. His arms were around her and his chin was on her shoulder. He was grinning at them. Cully's eyes met Melisse's. She gave a slow blink; an eye-nod that meant OK. Cully swerved his eyes to his sister just in time to see her nod, almost imperceptibly, at her husband. Another signal, also positive.
Cully grabbed her hand. "Quick, Carole-let's go upstairs and check on the baby!"
"I'm the mama," Melisse said, swinging toward the stairway with Brian following, hanging on like the caboose of a short train. "I gotta check the baby. If she happens to want something to eat, mister, you can't pass the physical!"
"We ... could all go..." Carole said slowly, sliding the words out like slipping bare toes in to test the water before plunging in.
"Or ... all stay?" Brian said, catching her look and her meaning.
Melisse looked at Cully. Her eyes were bright.
Melisse, Cully thought, had changed a lot. She had come a long way; as she'd said, she was a woman now, not a girl. And definitely tumed-on to sex. They had certainly had a ball-several balls-with Bert and Sue, and Melisse seemed to have shaken loose every inhibition and false old standard. And the way she'd come after Cully last night, grabbing his cock and shoving it up between her big tits and jacking them around it until it spurted, with her hands pressing so hard that she was spurting, too, milk and semen all over everything . ... She's turned-on, all right, Cully mused. But ... what Carole suggested-and what Brian was obviously agreeing to ... all four of them together ...
A flamiri, fuckin' foursome? Is Melisse ready for that?
Her eyes were sparkling. "Oh, wow-wwl You mean ... everybody? Together? I'd get to see Cully with another woman? Oh, wow!"
Cully gave his head a swift jerk. That seemed to be that; he knew that he and Carole were perfectly willing, and Brian was still hanging his chin over Melisse's shoulder, and still grmning. He looked like somebody else, all of a sudden, wearing a Brian-mask. With a little smile, Cully held out his hand to his sister.
"Carole? Shall we join you cute couple, upstairs."
"Let's!"
They rose and went over to Brian and Melisse.
Brian and Cully exchanged a happy, minimally searching look; Carole and Melisse exchanged a swift kiss. The four of them started up the steps. Cully and Carole couldn't resist fondling their mates' bottoms as the other couple preceded them.
"Gee," Melisse said wonderingly, "and one of us is a Carole!"
"What?"
Melisse laughed, tossing her blonde hair to tickle Brian's cheek "Brian and Carole and Cully and Melisse!" she cried.
"Cully and Carole and Melisse and Brian," Carole suggested.
"Brian and Cully and-nono," Brian interrupted himself, "strike that!"
"Hmp," Melisse said. "Both Carole and I have had it up the back-I don't see what's the objection from you two!"
Cully and Brian exchanged a look. Neither said a word. The look was eloquent though, and it said No, thanks.
"Jesus H. Christ," Carole was saying a few moments later, "you expect me to undress in the face of that!"
"These aren't a 'that', " Cully said, fondling the awesome torpedo-shaped tits his wife had just bared, "these are 'those'. "
Carole sighed and doffed her blouse, revealing her usual unbrassiered outriders, firm, high, pointy cones. She flung the blouse at Brian. "Look, honey, this must be Chicago, like in the song! That man's fondling his wife!"
Instantly Cully let go his wife's distended jugs and strode to his sister. Melisse stared. For the first time, she saw her man's hands and mouth working sexually over another woman. It had happened before, she knew-she just hadn't seen it. And ... she smiled. A hot flash struck through her and her heartbeat speeded up. It was lovely! Pretty, beautiful. It turned her on!
She turned to Brian. For a moment they stood looking at each other, across several feet of bedroom.
"We're the ... kids in this group, you know that?" he said. "Even if I am the oldest."
"Almost the outsiders," Melisse agreed, just as quiet-voiced.
He walked to her and put his hands on her hips. The tips of her big breasts just touched his chest "You're probably tired of every man in the world eye-balling those breasts of yours, Melisse. Maybe I should just ignore them."
"You do and I'll slug you."
His face broke into a broad grin and he shifted his hands upward. When they came up under her breasts, she sighed. He lifted them. And bent his head.
"Careful," she warned-too late. He had tugged her left tit too high, rumpling it a little at its base and thus exerting pressure on its inner ductways, and he received a sudden warm squirt directly in the eye. He raised his head to look surprisedly at her, blinking, and his expression broke her up.
Then he began laughing too, and, laughing together, they fell onto the bed. She had stripped to garter belt and hose; Brian seemed to have forgotten that he still wore shirt, pants and socks.
"Um-urnm," she said, running her tongue over her lips and touching his face after a long kiss. "You are furry!"
Everybody in the room laughed, and suddenly Carole yielded to a sudden impulse. She came over to the bed and, with deliberate wicked wantonness, jutted her furry pussy at her sister-in-law. She gyrated her hips slowly and wound up with a swift bump. Melisse blinked.
Then, behind the other woman, she saw Cully, peeling off his clothes. Carole was naked. Melisse was, for all practical purposes, and practicality was coming into vogue. Carole glanced down at Brian.
"You," she observed with some hauteur, "are overdressed."
He swung his legs to the floor and stood up to remedy that situation. "Hyde get naked fast," he growled.
Carole threw up her hands and rolled her eyes ceilingward. "Oh NO! Not HYDE!"
After a little frown, Melisse looked questioningly from Carole to Brian and back to Carole. "Hide? Hide what?"
"Not hide what," Carole sighed, "but what's Hyde! Hyde, with a Y, like in Doctor Jekyll and Mister. It's Brian's altar-ego. Brian's really pretty straight, see. But Hyde's a maniacal rapist."
"Eek" Melisse said in a conversational tone, gazing fascinatedly at the hairy male body that Brian was rapidly revealing. Then he turned to face her. More hair. Long, thick cock, worn presently at half mast. His hands came up like claws and he leered at her.
"Rrummmm! Hyde want fat-titted blonde broad."
"Jesus," Carole sighed.
Cully was laughing. Melisse was too, and she kept on laughing when Hyde pounced naked on the bed and began running first his hands, then his mouth as well, all over her breasts and belly and neck and arms.
Her laughter soon faded away and her nostrils flared in arousal.
She began caressing and fondling him as her fuse began to sputter. A long, long sigh of contentment emerged from deep in her throat, with a small amount of voice in it. Turning her head, she saw Carole and Cully with their arms wrapped around each other. They were kissing, rubbing, fondling just as she and Brian were.
Melisse abruptly decided that she might as well turn all the way loose. There was something she had been wondering about for quite awhile, now . ... She licked her lips.
"Cully? Carole? Cully ... bring her over here. Carole-let's see that grind and bump again. Up close."
After blinking in some surprise, Carole returned to the bedside, just at Melisse's face. She executed a long, naked grind, then a swift hard bump. From behind, Cully's arm slid around her and she felt his heavy, hot cock against her ass. Then she groaned, for Melisse had taken one hand off Brian to cup Carole's hip and the swell of her left buttock. Then the languid blonde on the bed pulled the tall brunette closer.
Melisse planted a long, warm kiss on Carole's furry crotch. Even Brian-Hyde interrupted his fondling and tonguing to watch, once he'd heard his wife's groan of almost agonized rapture.
In moments, Carole was bent forward with one hand on Melisse's shoulder and another on the bed, while Melisse tongued and sucked her pussy. She sucked a mouthful of wet thick lips in and worked them rubberily around in her mouth. Suddenly a fat-tipped, hot hard length of flesh seemed to emerge from that running cunt and thump Melisse's lips. After a moment's confusion, she realized that it was Cully's cock, which he had shoved between Carole's thighs from behind.
Melisse gave it a swift lick. Then smiling, quivering happily, she wiggled a little closer to the edge of the bed and began tonguing and kissing pussy lips and cock, alternately and simultaneously. A constant series of quaking shudders ran through her voluptuous body. Without interrupting the activity of her mouth, she took one hand from Carole, patted about, stroked Brian's face.
"Brian ... wouldn't you just ... get behind me," Melisse sighed in a wet voice.
Then she squirmed herself completely over onto her side and gave herself up to her new discovery, new desires and passions, and let her mouth become an organ of total titillation for her husband's cock and his sister's cunt. She felt the bed moving, felt Brian's body as he moved around behind her. She lifted her upper leg. She was already sweaty between her thighs, and they parted with a small sticky sound.
Then: "Uh!" It was a hand that went to her oozing cunt, not a cock, and not from behind. She twisted her head a little to peer around Carole's thigh at her own. The hand was Carole's. Even as Melisse looked, the other woman pushed a finger easily up inside her. She watched her own pink labia peel softly aside, glistening moistly.
"Ahhhhl" Melisse almost cried out, and jammed her mouth back against that dark-furred mound while the welcome hand tickled inside her pale-haired one. She sent her tongue whirling in to give Carole the same inner tickling titivation she was receiving. Carole's cry was just as loud and just as joyous. The two women probed each other's drooling slits.
Carole urged her crotch at her sister-in-law, ground her butt back against her brother, watched her husband's hands on Melisse's body, while she herself finger-fucked the blonde's wet furrow.
Melisse kissed and sucked and tongued her, occasionally feeling the wet pressure of Cully's prickhead against her chin or lower lip. She moved her hips to aid Carole's digital probing of her pussy, enjoying at the same time the feel of Brian's throbbing cock against her ass and his hand, which was tweaking and tugging at her nipples and caressing the great swells of their mounts.
Cully, with his prick shoved through his sister's legs from behind in search of his wife's face, passed both arms around Carole and rubbed her belly, her breasts, squeezed and stroked and pulled at them, ran a hand over her wet fur and into Melisse's wet face, received a kiss and a lick, slid it back up.
Then, bending his legs just a little, Cully used one hand to angle his hardened penis upward. And he ran it over his wife's tongue, and between saliva-slippery lips, and straight up into his sister's well-prepared vaginal hole.
Carole groaned and lurched and Cully had to hold her to prevent her falling weakly forward. Her knuckles crammed into the resilient bulge of Melisse's mount and her finger rammed in as far as it could go. God, oh God, now she had her hand in a cunt, now she was watching her husband delightedly playing with another woman's huge tits, and-and now she had a vagina stuffed full of hard cock as well as tongue running all over its now-distended outer lips.
"Ah ... bliss," she gasped, quaking, "Melisse ... and Cully ... and Brian ... are thy names!"
Cully chuckled. He palmed her breasts and ground the hard swells into her chest, and fucked strongly up and down her soppy gash. As far as he was concerned, the name of bliss was Carole and Melisse! The cunt of one housed his meat, while the tongue of the other licked its base and balls-and he was watching the two of them probe at each other with mouths and fingers!
He was also surely wet enough, and Carole wet enough and relaxed and juicily hot enough, for what he had hopefully planned. A new heightening of their erotic escapade.
He pulled his dripping prick out of its warm housing, raised its aim, and pushed. He was pleasantly surprised at the ease with which it went gliding into his sister's ass-hole.
"A-a-a-aaaghh-hh, Cully ... God, yesss!" Carole groaned out. Her body swayed and her shoulders bowed and her head hung loosely. Already Melisse's tongue had plunged back into the slit Cully's prick had widened before going on to widen her anus and bury its fat nose in her rectal deeps. Her finger moved rapidly in Melisse, then slipped weakly out
"Ah-unnngh-YES!" Melisse cried.
Carole blinked open her eyes to see the cause of that excited accolade. Simple: Brian had just shoved his tumescent hunk of man-meat up the voluptuous blonde's cunt from behind. His hands clamping on her breast and hip, he began hunching hard against her back.
Feeling more fulfilled and turned-on and just salaciously carnal than ever before in her life, Melisse plucked Brian's hand from her oozing nipple and carried it forward. Folding three of his fingers down and extending two as he allowed his hand to be manipulated like a puppet she rammed the fingers up into his wife's open gaping pussy.
Carole squealed. Brian shuddered and pumped harder into Melisse from behind. Melisse began happily licking his hand and his wife's clitoris and dilated labia. Brian's crotch slapped her ass, hard. She hunched involuntarily back, absolutely caught in the grip of pure sex, on full automatic, to impale herself on his hard-driving shaft of lust.
He rode the back-thrusting bowls of her ass, drilling into her while she worked it with the luscious hot vault of her cunt She'd been doing those exercises, religiously. He could feel the contracting and tugging of her vaginal muscles. He groaned aloud and tried to knock the bottom out of her womb.
Cully had opened his sisters rectal track wide open, and now he twisted his hips to gorge into it in a deep, probing-swiping of her ass-hole. His hard shoves rocked her while entrenching him deeply up her back. Now and again, with a little shudder, he felt a tongue lick over his balls; the touch of fingers. Knowledge that they were his wife's tongue but another man's fingers detracted not a whit from the thrills that gushed through his swinging sac of semen.
Bending farther, Cully put his lips against his sister's ear.
"Get ready. You're about to get your intestines full of hot milk!"
She trembled violently. "Good, good, because I ... I'm c-comminnnngGUHH!"
Her juices flowed, his began spurting up her ass, and she screamed for Melisse to stop, stop, she couldn't stand any more clitoral pressure, not even a touch. Juices trickled shiningly down Brian's hand.
Then Carole was astonished to hear herself crying out: "Come, Brian! Sperm off up her pretty blonde cunt, darling, hurry, fill it up full of come ... I want to lick and suck it OUT!"
Brian hardly needed encouragement, but the words and the thought they sent cartwheeling through his brain were the final catalyst. He jerked, groaned, and started sending warm stickiness up into his wife's brother's wife. And that thought made it a shatteringly powerful orgasm, to rank with the absolute best of his life. He just kept on ejaculating and jerking, grinding himself against her voluptuous haunches to tamp his sperm well up her pussy from behind.
Moments later, he and an equally surprised Cully were both staring at the two women. What a contrast, the big-hipped, big-butted, swollen-titted and juicily erotic blonde, and the darker, dark-eyed brunette with the tight cone-shaped tits and the small, boyishly rounded ass!
And both indulging their erotic inclinations in activities that were brand new to them.
Melisse was on her back on the rumpled bed, still wearing the black garter belt and stockings that seemed to frame her swollen genital area. She was writhing and thrashing in the grip of an obviously uncontrollable bliss, while Carole knelt between her legs and greedily sucked Brian's come out of the pale-furred pussy.
Grinning at each other, Cully and Brian slowly lowered their heads to Melisse's heaving torpedoes of tits. Each slid his mouth over one fat red nipple, and each began ticking and sucking.
And Melisse, last year's nervous virgin, hunched her cunt up into another woman's mouth and reached out to start pumping two semen-smeared cocks.
