Rumors make their rounds rapidly in the publishing business. Even before type was set for this book, three European publishers were clamoring for foreign reprint rights to The Kissing Cousins; this because rumors were that Dansk Blue Books undoubtedly had a best seller on its hands with Danish-French writer Per Dionne's new book.
After reading advance copies, most critics are inclined to agree that this graphic novel may be the most daring of the year.
Ostensibly, The Kissing Cousins is a story about the sexual foibles of the very rich and the not so rich who come into contact with them. There is a much deeper level than this, however, for here is a tale of a chrysalis in the form of a naive young housewife who, in transformation, becomes a powerful avenging high priestess of love.
Per Dionne has woven a brilliant word tapestry in which the figures of the three Morgan cousins-one male and two incredibly endowed women-move with all the power and force of their ancestor, pirate Henry Morgan. Not since Dumas' The Three Musketeers have three fictional characters so captured the imagination.
Beginning with corporate intrigue and infidelity in San Francisco, the story shifts to famed Sun Valley. Trapped in a chalet during a violent blizzard, six people meet in an encounter that strips all pretense from their beings and leaves their souls bared and defenseless.
This is the story of strength and weakness. It is not until closer inspection is made that those who appear strongest are actually the weakest.
One critic has pointed out that The Kissing Cousins is, in reality, an allegorical tale. "It may well be," he pointed out, "that the storm raging outside is symbolic of what is happening to America today. It is the storm inside that counts, the hurricane storm as one person fights another for mastery. At the end of the story, the snow is quietly falling outside, promising a new and peaceful landscape. Inside, there has been destruction."
Of all of the unforgettable characters in this novel, perhaps Sue, the chrysalis, stands out most. She is a woman who faces facts, no matter how unpleasant they may be. It is she who, in the beginning, is used by everyone, even including her husband. As the fury of the storm outside the chalet mounts, so does her sense of power. And then, with the winds shrieking in a maniacal fury, there is the showdown with the all-powerful Donna, coming as it does in a scene of almost unbelievably sensual barbarism.
Because the author has not attempted to change the explicit sexual impulses of language of his characters, there may be graphic scenes in this book that may offend the more sensitive readers. People like the Morgans do exist; to deny that is to live a lie! Therefore, Dansk Blue Books is happy to add this important novel to our growing list of books making a social commentary about our times and our society.
-The Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
Sue Bigelow did something she very rarely permitted herself to do; she went back to bed after John left for his job as Sales Manager of Metrodynamics Television Industries. Before climbing between the sheets, however, she did another unprecedented thing when she lifted the black nylon nightgown up over her head and stood nude before the full-length minor, critically inspecting her body. Staring back at her was the lively image of a not-quite-tall, tousled red-haired girl of twenty-four, with jade green eyes, full lips, slightly wide shoulders, perfectly formed thirty-six-inch breasts the size of premium large oranges, a tiny twenty-four inch waist, gracefully flaring hips and alabaster-white buttocks, a pouting Mound of Venus and long, perfectly shaped thighs and legs. Satisfied at what she saw, she shook her head in bewilderment.
Then, still nude, she lay down on the bed and pulled the floral printed sheet and gold electric blanket up tight around her shoulders. The sheets against her bare skin felt incredibly sensual, and she twisted her shoulders back and forth a couple of times, rubbing her nipples against the material.
Then she turned to the empty pillow next to her. "John, what's wrong with us? Why don't you like to make love to me any more? Don't you need me? Christ, I sure need you! Have I done something? Is there another woman?"
She sighed deeply, and there was the faintest suspicion of a tear in the corner of her green eyes.
God knows, she thought, I've done everything I could to make the honeymoon last. Now, barely a year since their marriage, both she and John were bored. Sue didn't deny that fact; like everything else in life, Sue believed in facing the truth of a situation head-on, and she never practiced self-deception.
No, the truth of the matter was that something was missing out of their romance, and for the life of her, Sue couldn't figure out where they had gone wrong or what was missing. She loved her husband; she had no doubt that he loved her equally. And yet, there were times when she was in the company of other couples that she felt herself being drawn almost irresistibly toward another male. There was magnetism there, a strange and wicked animal magnetism that could only-lead to disaster.
Facing the truth now as she lay in bed listening to the rain fall outside and feeling the need inside of her, Sue put her jumbled thoughts into words. "I would like... to be... fucked... by another man." Having said it, she closed her eyes tightly, with a defiant expression on her face, as though she expected to be slapped. Deep inside her brain, a portion of her consciousness cringed in something akin to fear as the meaning of her remark sank in.
"And furthermore," she continued, "I think John would like to ball a couple of other women... if he hasn't been doing so already. I think he'd love to make out with Ellen or Kathy... I think."
She sighed again. For a couple whose sex life had started out so beautifully, it certainly had turned to sour owl guano in a hurry once they had gotten married. She and John had been lovers for two wonderfully hot exciting years before their marriage. Then, about six months after the official knots had been tied, there had come subtle changes in their relationship. Instead of making love four or five times a week, John now seemed interested in her only once or twice a week. And lately, he had been doing it the exact same way every time. As if he were in a hurry, or guilty, or submitting to punishment. No variation in position, no attempts to find new and more exciting ways of doing it... nothing. No more "nooners," as he used to call them, either; and no more leaving a trail of clothes and undergarments scattered from front door to bedroom. Just routine. And boredom!
Sue searched for the word and found it. "Perfunctory," she said aloud. "My husband makes love to me perfunctorily."
A sudden gust of wind made the rain rattle like pebbles against the bedroom windowpane. The sound in itself was chilling and cold, and Sue shivered. The weather forecast was for intermediate to heavy rain for the next twenty-four hours, with the snow level dropping to 1,500 feet by nightfall. It was typical of the Arctic storms that barrel down the coast to hit Northern California three or four times each winter. San Franciscans would come out blinking into the sunlight tomorrow and find a few of the higher hills wearing an ermine cloak of snow.
Sue's body was covered with goosebumps. The chill had caused her nipples to tighten and become erect. The only warm place on her entire body seemed to be that slumbering volcano between her legs. She turned up the thermostat on the electric blanket and heard the little relays click loudly.
My Mound of Venus is really Mount Vesuvius, she thought sleepily, and yawned. Too bad it can't blow out a smoke ring once in a while... just to let John know it's there.
The thought tickled her. She grinned, yawned, then closed her eyes. She was asleep again almost immediately, and once again she dreamed of a tall, faceless, athletic middle-aged man making love to her in the most delicious way... she could even feel the rough edges of his tongue as it licked, licked, licked away at her femaledom.
CHAPTER TWO
Dorothy Carswell was the Office Manager for Metrodynamics Television. About forty years old, a neat dresser, an immaculate hairdo, she radiated a great deal of sex in spite of a rather obvious attempt on her part to suppress her femininity.
While the other males in the Home Office of Metrodynamics were pretty sure she was a hot little number, only one man knew for sure. John Bigelow!
Watching her trim form now as she swayed down the aisleway between the desks, walking away from his office, John thought once again that Metrodynamics motto, "Do business only with an old, reliable firm!" really applied to her. She was, without a doubt, one of the most talented broads in the sack he had ever had before. Only, in this case, it was always her sack, and a nice sack it was indeed. Dorothy's apartment was, in reality, a penthouse atop a twenty-story apartment complex overlooking Golden Gate Bridge, the Bay, and Alcatraz. It cost her $650 a month. Exactly who paid the rent remained a mystery, but John knew her benefactor was always there on Friday, Monday and Wednesday evenings. That really had been a simple deduction. Dorothy liked John in bed, but it was a "no-no" on those nights. Too, he had called one Monday evening on some pretext or the other, and Dorothy had been extremely short with him on the telephone. The following day she would hardly speak to him... but that night she softened enough to let him make love to her.
Everything about her yelled out "class," everything from the concert grand piano, which she played exceedingly well, to the original little Utrillo canvases on the front room walls and the delightfully feminine bedroom.
John had been calling at her apartment after work and on an occasional weekend for the last six months. She was an incredibly dexterous sexual athlete, and with her, anything went. Anything at all, much to John's delight. She was an accomplished fellatrix, and when she took his heated cock into the oval of her cool soft mouth, it was, in itself, enough to put him in orbit. John, on the other hand, had never gone down on her. lie had thought about it several times, had even made a half-hearted attempt once, but Dorothy, apparently sensing his uncertainty, had pulled his head away from her navel and said soothingly, "No, cheri. Not until you really want to. It must be done from the heart. It must be a gift... a little tribute. Only then is it exquisite."
In other ways, though, Dorothy had made her wants known. She liked to be practically raped some nights, with no time being taken to build her up or lubricate her. It was obviously painful to her when his hot, hard prick slammed into the dry caverns of her cunt, but still she screamed out her masochistic enjoyment. And, there were nights when she made no pretense of hiding her desire to be sodomized by him. The first time he had realized what she wanted, John had been so excited by the lewd prospect that he had reached a climax before he had been able to cram his prick all the way into her clenching, unclenching, hot little asshole. Dorothy had not hidden her displeasure or disappointment, but youth had been on his side, and his powerful erection had arisen again within a minute or two; this time she had no cause for complaint, reaching such a powerful orgasm that she lapsed into unconsciousness.
Watching her now disappear into her own office at the other end of the section, John sought to sort out his own feelings about her. Christ, he was inflicted with a deep sense of guilt so far as Sue was concerned. His conscience, he freely admitted, was causing certain problems. He felt so damned guilty about Dorothy that he found himself almost staying away from Sue-in order to punish himself for his infidelity. Two or three times he had thought briefly about breaking off his affair with the older woman, but that was impossible and he knew it. He wanted her; she excited him... excited him by her salacious behavior and demands. He was fully aware that Dorothy was waiting him out so far as cunnilingus was concerned; she wanted him down there gobbling it, but to date he hadn't done it... not because it was distasteful to him, but simply because he didn't feel right about paying this type of homage to a woman he didn't love, when he had never done it to a wife whom he loved deeply.
Sue, though, he was pretty sure, would be revolted by this type of perverted behavior. He almost laughed aloud as he thought about it. Sue with his cock in her mouth! Good God! She was so naive about things like that. She'd die of embarrassment if he made any suggestion or even hinted that he wanted her to do that to him, or that he wanted to kiss her vagina. As far as anal intercourse was concerned... why, Sue would be so shocked that she'd have him locked up as a sick, demented, perverted old man.
His train of thought was abruptly sidetracked as George Conklin, the Executive Vice President, came in shaking the rain off his London Fog jacket. "Good morning, George," John said cheerfully. "Don't tell me it's raining outside."
"Humph! A good Sales Manager would be out there in this downpour beating the bushes for new business instead of sitting on his ass and relying on past glories," George came back. It was a familiar, friendly banter between the two men who respected each other's abilities. John knew he had no cause to alibi or apologize for the current sales figures; this last quarter had been the best in the history of the company, and most of the increase could be traced directly to John's new marketing and training concept.
Now George Conklin was standing in front of his desk, a pleased but secretive smile on his face. He laid his wet raincoat in a maroon leather chair and rubbed his hands briskly. "Well, I've just come back from J.J.'s office."
"Oh?"
Now George's grin split his lips and his eyes crinkled. "He's very pleased with you. As a matter of fact, he's already talking about big things in store for you."
John felt a rush of sudden pride shoot through him. This was good news. J.J. Thompins, the legendary fifty-year-old head of Metrodynamics, was not one to lavish praise on his subordinates. All John could say in response to the message was, "Thank you."
"Yes... Well you might want to thank old J.J. himself... by an inter-office memo, of course. There's one other thing; he's so pleased with your work that he wanted me to give you these." George threw an envelope across the desk and then stood there, still grinning, waiting for the younger man to open the packet.
John used the letter opener to slit the envelope, then head cocked uncertainly to one side, removed the contents. "Airline tickets?" he asked, puzzled.
"Yes. And paid hotel accommodations for you and Sue... at Sun Valley."
"Why... why... I'm overwhelmed."
"Don't be, my boy. You've earned it. And if J.J. hadn't given them to you, I would have done something for you out of my special account. I must confess though that I was somewhat surprised by his generosity."
John stared down at the tickets; they called for a Friday departure and a return in ten days. He swallowed. Aside from rather rapid promotions from salesman to Regional Manager to Marketing Services Manager to Sales Manager, this really was the first solid indication of approval from the company. "That is very generous," he agreed. "But... George, I don't know if I can leave on Friday. I have to conduct the interviews for our new Marketing Services Manager."
"Let Dorothy run the preliminary interviews. She can select half a dozen final candidates or likely prospects, and you can wrap it up when you get back."
"Well... if you're sure... "
"I'm sure. And besides, it's practically a direct command from J.J."
"Okay." John grinned and stood, unable to contain his excitement. "Sun Valley. Oh, wow! I haven't had a chance to do any skiing for almost two years."
"Good. Go and enjoy yourself, and your wife."
George picked up his raincoat and set out for his office in the executive wing. John stood there for a moment, reading the ticket information over and over again. It was really fantastic. This was a true paid vacation-it wouldn't count against his regular vacation time... it was just a little something extra. Then he thought of Sue. She would be excited about it, just as excited as he was. She loved to go places, and she had a figure that was stunningly incomparable in ski clothes. She would be a smash, a knockout. And she'd love every minute of it. Maybe... just maybe, he thought mournfully and with the sting of conscience biting him again, we can recapture something of what we had before I got involved with Dorothy, He slipped the tickets into his inside coat pocket and went down the hall to Dorothy's office. Mandy, her receptionist, nodded pleasantly at him.
"Is Miss Carswell with anyone?" he asked.
"No, sir. I'll tell her you're here." She pushed down the intercom button and announced, "Mr. Bigelow would like to see you."
Dorothy's voice came back through the box, "Send him in, please."
John walked in and closed the door behind him. He stood there, back pressed against the door, glancing boldly at her and feeling the dull excitement beginning in his loins. His prick stirred in its slumber. His expression, he knew, was lewd with his thoughts mirrored on his face.
"Down... boy," she crooned, smiling companionably at him.
"God... you really turn me on."
"That's good."
He growled playfully, "Do you know what I would like to do right now?"
"Yes, darling... and you can just forget about it. You know the old rules. No playing kitchy-koo during office hours, or the Office Manager will fire you."
"But you're the Office Manager."
"Yes. Still goes. Well, now. What brings you to me on the run so soon after I left you."
"I've just heard from J.J. He likes the last quarter's report and he's sending me to Sun Valley. All expenses paid-for ten days."
She smiled, "Yes, I know. Congratulations."
"I'm supposed to leave Friday. Can you handle the preliminary interviews on the new marketing services man?"
"Of course. I'll be happy to."
"I wish... well... I wish, almost, that you were coming too."
"That would be cozy," she purred. "Me lying on your right side, Sue on the left."
He blushed, stammered, then said, "You know what I mean." Why is it she could always make him feel like a small boy caught with his hands in the cookie jar?
Dorothy was toying with a pencil; there was a strange look on her face, "strange" in that it was one of uncertainty, and John had never seen her uncertain of anything before. Finally, without looking at him, she said, "That wouldn't be bad, you know. Me on your right side, Sue on the left... and next to her... a friend of mine."
The shock showed on his face. Then it faded to be replaced by anger. "That's going a little far with your fun and games."
There was genuine puzzlement in her voice when she asked, "What's so different between you and me... and Sue and another man?"
"Swapping." He spat out the word contemptuously.
"Yes... four people feeling something- participating in something. Double the number, double the pleasure and excitement."
He had to watch his words now. He didn't want to anger or offend her, even though he was revolted by the mere thought of his wife participating in such a crazy thing. "Sue would never go for it."
"How do you know unless you ask her?"
"You're out of your mind."
She shrugged. "Drop it then."
Watching her breasts rise and fall beneath the silk knit dress, John felt the urgency and need for her come stealing back into his loins. "Will I see you tonight?" he asked.
She shook her head.
He knew better than to question her or ask why. "Then Thursday evening?"
"Sorry, friend. No more. Kaput."
"What do you mean?" he blurted out, disbelief and the beginning of outraged protest in his voice.
Dorothy looked genuinely sorry when she said, "No more. You know I have a lover, a man who keeps me in... the apartment."
"Yes."
"Well... he says I mustn't see you any more."
John was stunned and, for a moment, a bit enlightened. He didn't want his affair with Dorothy to be public knowledge. "You mean he knows about me?"
She nodded, amused.
"Why in hell did you tell him?" Now the outrage was unmistakable.
"Cheri...
he's known all along. You know the word 'usufruct'?" He shook his head and she continued, "It's an old legal phrase meaning the right to enjoy and use the property of others just so long as you don't harm the property and the property benefits by your use of it. He merely felt that you were being usufructural. But now he feels perhaps you might do something to return the favor. He'd like the same privileges with Sue. He would be very beneficial to her; you know, he's an extremely talented man in bed."
For a moment John thought the room was revolving around him. This was the most insane thing he had ever known. "Never a chance... not one. Sue is my wife, and I resent the implication that she would do anything like that. She's decent."
"And I'm not, cheri?" The reproach was unmistakable.
"Oh, sweet Jesus," John snapped, closing his eyes as though he wanted to blot out the scene.
Dorothy's low laughter came across the room. "Goodbye, cheri. Have fun at Sun Valley."
"Dorothy... look, I... I... Oh shit! Forget it!" He yanked open the door and walked rapidly and angrily back to his own office where he closed the door behind him.
"Shit... shit... SHIT!" he yelled, and slammed his fist down onto the desk, scattering papers all over the floor. What possessed the woman to tell her lover that he had been visiting her? She must have been out of her mind! She had always seemed so close-mouthed, and yet-if her boy friend knew about him that first night-the cum wouldn't have had time to dry on the Japanese silk sheets before she was spilling her guts to old man about new lover. As for the guy who was paying rent on her apartment: a dirty old man, undoubtedly! And as for Sue? Sue would die of mortification if she ever suspected a "swap" proposition had been made. He might not know much, but he did know his wife.
Sue. Lovely, innocent Sue. Abruptly he realized he hadn't told her about Sun Valley.
Feeling a combination of guilt, excitement, and the remnants of outrage, he dialed his home. It wasn't until his finger was in the last digit hole that he suddenly stiffened as he thought about something. Dorothy hadn't seemed surprised that he was going to Sun Valley; indeed, her manner and the way she received the news indicated that she had known about it all along.
And yet... George Conklin had been surprised. Only a person very close to J.J. would have known...
"Good God... " he said softly, as the implication began to trickle down into his brain.
So stunned and frightened was he by the possible repercussions of his involvement, that Sue had to answer "hello" at least three times before she got his attention.
CHAPTER THREE
Sun Valley Lodge was everything Sue had ever heard about it... and more! It was nestled in a cup of mountains, all deeply packed with fine powder snow that blew in little white zephyrs-like tails-when the wind swept up the slope. Their room had a fireplace and a picture window that looked out over the skating rink. In the distance, tiny blue and yellow and black and red dots seemed to waltz down the steep slope of the mountainside.
John and she had arrived late in the afternoon and were almost immediately caught up in the frenetic activity of the ski world's social life. Even before they unpacked, hot buttered rums were creating pools of liquid happiness in their bellies. Couples in ski clothes were already dancing in the smaller lounge on the second floor. Then dinner, served sumptuously in the elegant main dining room, followed by more dancing in the Duchin Room, and then to a deep soft comfortable bed where John had made delicious love to her by flickering firelight. And that's when it happened for the first time!
John's long, hard prick was jerking against her cervix, and she could feel every muscular ridge in the trunk of the cock. Her clasping pussy milked at it, quivering with a hot passion that caused the vaginal lips to swell almost double in size as she reached for a climax. It was then... right then... that Sue began to pretend that someone else was making love to her. When John's long smooth strokes began increasing in tempo and his breath announced the impending orgasm, Sue imagined it was someone else about to cum inside of her. She tensed, horror stricken at the adulterous thought. John mistakenly accepted her sudden tensing as the beginning of her climax and grunted, "Here it comes, baby! Here comes the whole load. All yours, baby." Usually his salacious language excited her on to even a greater fit of lust, but not tonight. She felt his god's head balloon in size and then the throbbing, spurting, spewing of his pent-up semen roaring out of his prick to flood the very heart of her drought-stricken womb.
John sighed in deep satisfaction. "Baby," he said, "you have got the best little pussy in all the world." This usually was the signal for her to kiss him in appreciation, and Sue did so- rather than alarm him now. Her emotions were churning, her mind in a turmoil. What was happening? What could be happening to her?
Everything seemed suddenly alien. That hadn't been her husband's penis shoved into her vaginal cavity; that wasn't her husband's lips on her neck, his hands on her breasts, his hairy thighs between her pliant legs. And that wasn't her husband's cum pouring out of her still dilated and hopeful cunt.
Beside her, John mumbled sleepily, and then said, "Good night, baby."
Sue turned over toward him and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Good night," she said softly.
Within seconds, it seemed, John's breath was coming evenly and he was sound asleep. Sue moved away from him, to the edge of their king-size bed, and lay on her side watching the fire slowly dwindle in the fireplace. Those flames were reluctant to die, just as the fire inside her loins refused to be extinguished. She had been within seconds of cumming, and then that sudden thought had so startled her, so stunned her by its vividness, that she had lost her orgasm; it had squirted away from her like a ball of quicksilver. She was deeply disturbed by what had happened. This marked the first time in her relationship with John that she hadn't reached a climax. The fire was dying now; one log cracked and the embers fell like little red stars off the grate.
"The first time I've not had one," she said to herself, and then mentally tried to calculate how many climaxes she had achieved during her sex life with John. She smiled wryly, closing her eyes like a sleepy cat before the fireplace, and her lips formed the phrase, "About six hundred... until now."
She opened her eyes and blinked, unwilling to go to sleep yet. This entire situation was something that couldn't be run away from in slumber; it was something she had to think out now. What was wrong with her? Why this attraction to other males? She loved her husband; she hadn't been to bed with any male except her husband since they had met. And before that, there had been one or two hasty affairs-not very satisfactory, not satisfactory at all! Terrible things: clutch-clutch, clinch, breathe hard, "bam-bam thank you, Ma'am," type of things in the back seat of cars or on plastic couches in some plastic male's plastic apartment.
Only John had ever made her feel like a woman. No! No... that wasn't correct. There had been another one, a long-long time ago...
Now... slowly... the curtains of her mind were parting, and with the first view of the past, she gasped in dismay.
That was it! That was it! Now she knew who had been making love to her. Now she knew whose penis had been in there, whose lips had been on her breasts, whose hands had caressed her body.
Of course! Even though it had happened only once and then a long time ago, she remembered it now as vividly as though it had occurred just seconds before. And, abruptly, Sue also knew why this apparition had returned to haunt her.
"He lives here-in Sun Valley-three months out of every year... in the winter," she whispered softly to herself. "He lives here... "
CHAPTER FOUR
Sue lay there remembering her first tentative investigation into sex at fifteen. She was a "late starter"; that was her mother's fault. It hadn't been until her second year at Danton Girls School that a male had ever touched the intimate parts of her body.
That male had been cousin Rod! Rod, only a high school senior himself, breathing hard and obviously aroused. It had taken place outside her dormitory, in the front seat of his car. He had awkwardly fondled her breasts and, for one wonderful second, he had caressed her fevered crotch area. She quickly took his hands away, but her abdomen was painfully awake and afire from the brief touch. Sue decided she must speak to someone about her feelings when Rod touched her, so lying in bed, fighting for courage and with the darkness hiding her blush, she stammered the question to her roommate Joan who, Sue knew, had given her all to more than one date. But then, Joan was a senior and seventeen!
Sue explained what was bothering her. "Are you still a virgin?" Joan had asked. "Oh, yes."
Joan was silent, apparently thinking, then asked, "Has he ever massaged your vagina with his finger?"
Knowing her face must be the color of an Acapulco sunset, Sue nodded without answering, then realized the other girl couldn't see her. "Yes," she said finally.
"Did you feel anything?"
"Well... I felt excited! I felt as if I were about to blow up. It got worse and worse. I wanted something to happen."
"Did you blow up? I mean did you suddenly feel as though you weren't in your body any more-something like that? Ecstasy? Shuddering? Did you relax right after?"
Mournfully, Sue answered, "No. I kept feeling tight and tense for hours. Do you think I'm what they call 'frigid'?"
Joan had answered immediately, "Just because you can't reach a climax when Rod plays with you, doesn't mean you're frigid, or even that you've got anything wrong. It's probably that you just haven't been able to relax... and so you can't cum."
"Cum?"
"You know, have an orgasm. 'Cum.' Like Rod does when you masturbate him."
Sue shook her head, mystified, "I don't understand what you're saying."
Joan suddenly switched on the light and stared at her in open-mouthed amazement. "You're putting me on. You aren't serious." Then she started laughing, "My God! It's the truth. You don't know what I'm talking about. Why... you ninny, where have you been all your life?"
Sue could feel the tears of humiliation welling up in her eyes. "Don't make fun of me, please. I... don't know who else to ask... if you won't help me."
Joan was immediately contrite. She patted Sue's hand. "I'm sorry, chum. Look... it's just that I didn't realize that you were that... that... "
"Stupid... " Sue interrupted.
"No, not stupid. 'Naive' would be more descriptive."
Sue wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I don't know anything, and I mean 'anything,' about doing this sort of thing-with myself or with Rod."
"You mean you haven't reached inside Rod's trousers and done the same thing to him that he's doing to you-fondling and caressing, I mean?"
"No. Rod put my hand there once, but I didn't know what he wanted."
Joan looked away, staring out the darkened window at the lights and shadows dancing in the trees on the campus. She pursed her lips, obviously trying to think of an introduction to her lecture. She shrugged finally. "Okay! Let's start at the beginning. First. You do know the basic components, don't you? I mean, how you are constructed differently from boys." She continued without waiting for an answer. "We have what the boys like to call a 'cunt'; our 'vagina.' in other words. They also call it a 'pussy,' a 'twat.' Oh, they have all sorts of little synonyms for it. They, on the other hand, have a penis; most of them refer to it as a 'prick' or 'cock.' The prick goes in the cunt; it moves back and forth." She illustrated by using her left forefinger and thumb as a circle and began plunging her middle finger of her right hand in and out of the circle. "That is called sexual intercourse or, to go along with a historical Anglo-Saxon phrase, 'fucking.' The first time you're fucked, it hurts like hell. You think you're going to be split right down the middle, and some women bleed like stuck pigs. The second time it hurts only a little less. The third time, if its done properly, it's fun... ! Fun, hell, it's the god-damnedest greatest most glorious feeling in the world... that is, if the boy does it properly, and you get to cum. When you cum, you just explode down there. You lose all control of your body and mind, and your senses just run away with you. Your stomach and fanny jerk like a runaway puppet on the end of string. That's it, Sue... that's it! And the best part about it is that you know you made him feel just as good as you feel. He's cumming, and you feel him throbbing inside of you just as though there was a great big old hot hard heart pounding down there between your legs. And his cum is warm and slippery-like hot hand lotion-as it flows out of your vagina... " Joan stopped talking and swallowed; she was breathing heavily from just talking about the act. After a moment, she said, "There's only one thing, though. That's how babies are made. And believe me, sweetheart, that's the one thing I can do without... for now."
"I wouldn't want to take a chance on having a baby, either," Sue said, shaking her red head emphatically.
"No one does. But sometimes you get carried away. It feels so tremendous that you just don't give a damn, and, honestly, you couldn't help yourself even if you did care. You're helpless with desire, as they say in True Confessions. When that happens, if he's not wearing a rubber, you're going to have to douche yourself right away... and I do mean, right now! Within ten minutes." Joan grinned maliciously, "The Tri-Delts have been known to shake up a bottle of Coca-Cola and use that as a douche in an emergency. The best precaution, though, is just take 'The Pill,' the ever-loving pill; then you don't have to worry about anything."
Sue was silent for almost a full minute while her brain digested the information. She was blushing again when she finally asked, "A minute ago you asked if Rod had an orgasm when I caressed him. You said 'masturbation,' didn't you?" Joan nodded, Sue continued. "Would he really... cum?"
"Yes."
"Would it... would it cause me to have a baby if some of his sperm got on me?"
Joan laughed delightedly. "Not unless he came all the way inside of you, in your-pardon the term-'cunt'!"
Sue abruptly made up her mind. "Joan... how do I do it? I mean how do I go about masturbating Rod?"
"Why not ask him to show you? The mere thought of demonstrating for you ought to make him so hot that he'll cum the first stroke or two."
Sue shook her head rapidly, blushing furiously, "Oh... no! I could never do that."
Joan shrugged. "It's very simple. Just take his penis in your hand... put your hand all the way around it. Hold it tight. Don't worry about hurting him; I'm convinced the god-damned thing is almost indestructible! Hold it tight. Then move your hand back and forth real fast for a minute or two... as long as necessary. You'll know how long."
Sue seemed surprised. "You mean that's all? Just back and forth?" She moved her hand in a jerky sideways motion across her chest.
Joan burst out laughing again and said quickly, "Oh, Sweet Jesus, no! Not that way. Up and down. Up and down."
"Will it make me cum, too?"
"Sure. It should, if Rod returns the favor. Just remember though. Don't let him put his penis inside of you-even for a split second- unless he's wearing a rubber. Let him do anything else but don't let him in... unless he's wearing a rubber." she repeated.
That had been Sue's introduction. The following night Sue carefully chose a revealing red knit sweater that showed off the full cleavage of her melon-like breasts, and a tight little cotton print skirt. With more assurance than she really felt, Sue walked across the green lawn to Rod's convertible. When he opened the door, she scooted in and her skirt came all the way up to reveal the golden tan of her thighs and the soft, almost imperceptible, little hairs above the knees. Instead of yanking down her skirt, she lifted it an inch higher as he walked around the back of the car to his own side.
Rod fumbled the key into the ignition, and she saw him staring in hot-eyed wonder at her legs. "We're both uncertain of what to do," she said to herself, then grinned as she mentally added, "Well, we will find out... won't we, cousin?"
Originally the plan had been to go to a movie, but without even discussing it, Rod drove up the winding highway toward Mount Baldy and a place which some of the girls referred to as "Baggy Wrap Gulch." Night was coming rapidly and it was completely dark before Rod pulled into a spot between two trees. The lights of the city were sparkling below them. They were both silent as they stared out into the night. Then, tentatively, Rod put his arm on the back of the seat. A moment later, his arm dropped around her shoulders. She snuggled in closer to him.
Sue's heart was beginning to pound and she freely admitted to herself that she was frightened. Rod bent down and kissed her. It was not a very skillful kiss, she thought, or even enjoyable. A moment later though he French-kissed her. She liked that! It was exciting, she thought, as her cousin's hard tongue moved around in her mouth, taking possession of her oral cavity, rubbing the roof of her mouth as established superiority. She opened her mouth even wider and fought his tongue with her own. Rod pulled her shoulders forward and then turned her so that she was cradled in his arms with her long legs stretched out on the passenger's side of the seat. Now she felt his right hand moving surreptitiously on her left breast. She continued to kiss him. Emboldened, he began awkwardly massaging her breasts and, when she made no effort to stop him, he attempted to put his hand down the front of her sweater. She withdrew her mouth from his and sat up. In a soft voice, she asked, "Rod... what are you trying to do?"
His breath was coming in hoarse gasps, and his voice was guttural when he said, "You know... "
Sue was silent for a moment, then she answered, "All right." In the half-darkness she saw her cousin blink in surprise and happy disbelief. She saw his eyes open even wider when she put her arms behind her back, lifted her sweater, hunched her shoulders forward and unfastened the bra. Boldly, she lifted the sweater in front. The white round globes of flesh leaped for freedom with their nipples standing erect like very small brown penises. She dropped the bra on the floor of the car, then put her hands under her breasts and held them upright as though she were offering them to him as a gift. She had never done this before for anybody; she had always secretly felt she would be embarrassed, but actually it helped knowing he was her cousin, and not just any old boy. She was surprisingly calm-feeling her superiority growing over her cousin. Something was happening to her body; she could feel it. An excitement, a dull, painful pounding of her heart. A dryness of her throat. A sudden and unexpected heart in between her legs. Sue had never felt more alive in her life. And yet, she felt an incompleteness, a longing for something she couldn't define. Rod placed his hand on her bare and sensitive breast; she felt an electric shock go through her. Nothing she had ever experienced had felt so pleasurable before. She couldn't believe it. It was fabulous. Fantastic. Wonderful! And breath-taking. She involuntarily groaned low in her throat as his tongue roamed around in her mouth and his thumb and forefinger caught her nipple in a gentle squeeze. After a minute, Sue's breath was coming almost as harshly as the boy's. He pulled his mouth away from hers, and she felt a great disappointment as he seemingly tried to push her body away from his. But the disappointment was short-lived. A surge of ecstasy roared through her when she felt his lips seek and find her breast. The soft suction, the gentle nibbles on her breast, made all her previous feelings of pleasure fade into insignificance. "Oh... oh... oh... " she moaned, then cried out, "that's wonderful! Oh, that's wonderful." Now he seemingly was trying to swallow the entire breast, and the tremendous suction of his mouth together with the rough edge of his hot tongue teasing the nipple were driving her insane!
Sue was so lost in all this that it came as a distinct surprise when she felt her cousin's uncertain hand move up between her fevered thighs and touch the already damp crotch of her bikini panties. Instinctively, she clamped her legs together, trapping his hand. Rod made no effort to do more than just rub gently; Sue was sure he didn't know what to do or how to do it.
Rod shifted his body and she became aware of something hard and throbbing against her arm which was lying in his lap. She could feel the angry little seesaw movements of his abdomen. "That must be," Sue said to herself, "what Joan called his penis... or 'prick'." As she attempted to decide the next step, she abruptly realized that something was happening down there between her legs. Rod had inserted his middle finger between the elastic of her panty legs and was rubbing against the soft curling red pubic hairs. His finger briefly came into contact with her clitoris, and a powerful electrical shock surged through her belly. God, it felt so wicked... so delightful... so beautiful! Without her being made aware of it, Rod had moved her one leg away from the other. She didn't resist when he forced the leg off the seat onto the floor, leaving her spread-eagled with her virginal crotch unprotected, defenseless and incapable of resistance.
A wild forest fire was being kindled down there. A fire that would roar out of control unless she could keep her mind clear and concentrate on something else. Rod's lips were trying to devour her breast; she could feel his teeth- it was almost painful, but so beautiful. That tender pain abruptly was shoved into the background of her consciousness as that vaginal flame spontaneously ignited and moved like an unstoppable crown fire across her virginal forest. Vaguely, she wondered if she were about to reach a climax; she wanted to, she had to... or she would die! Sue silently screamed, "Rod, darling! Harder. Harder! keep going. Do anything to me! Anything! Just put out the fire, please. Make me feel... make the feeling go away... make me... burst open-blow up." Rod's finger sawed across her cuntal lips as though the digit were a bow being used by a maddened bass fiddle player. Sue experienced breathing difficulty, but that didn't matter to her. Nothing mattered! Nothing!
Then, without warning just as those delicious storm clouds within her pussy began to build up into thunderheads-clouds that would bring the cooling rains to douse the fire-Rod stopped completely.
His breath sounded as if he had run a cross country race. His body trembled. The grinding seesaw motions of his lower abdomen had grown so strong that it actually caused pain to her ribs. Rod's spittle slid dryly down his constricted throat as he attempted to swallow.
Sue could feel his entire body trembling; his hand was shaking like that of an old man suffering from palsy when he took her right hand and placed it on the bulge of his throbbing penis beneath his pants.
Well, here it is, Sue thought. This is the moment when I find out if Joan knew what she was talking about. Sue's voice was low, almost inaudible, as she whispered, "Rod, darling?"
"Huh?"
"What do you want me to do?"
He didn't seem to understand. He sat there, open-mouthed and panting, in a daze of passion.
"Rod... show me. Please, darling; I've never done this before."
He swallowed again. Then he shifted her body slightly to the right, and she felt his hand tumbling with his Levi's. His zipper whispered, and he fumbled some more. Abruptly, Sue felt a warm hard rod pressing against the bare skin of her back. Her cousin pulled her body toward him. His tongue now dug deep into her mouth, and as he did so, he placed her hand upon his penis. This, she thought, couldn't have been confined inside his trousers; it was too huge. No man could keep a thing like this inside his pants without it being visible. Rod groaned with her touch.
Sue went back over the instructions, then feeling a little foolish, began doing what Joan had said to do. She tightened her fingers around the prick. Her cousin groaned even louder, and in obvious pleasure. She moved her hand and, surprisingly felt the skin-hard and warm and soft all at once, like the pliable scruff of an animal -move with her hand. She could feel the hard ridges beneath the skin, and the prick itself throbbed like the heart of some wild living thing. "Oh... ahhh... that's fabulous!" Rod panted. Sue began moving her hand rapidly back and forth. His penis now was growing even thicker. Her cousin no longer was making any attempt whatsoever to kiss or fondle her. He simply lay against the front seat with his mouth hanging laxly open, like a man who is near unconsciousness. Sue's arm and hand muscles were beginning to tire because of the awkward position in which she was lying. She ceased her stroking in order to shift into a more comfortable position, and as she did so, Rod groaned as if he were strangling. "Don't stop now; Jesus! Keep going... keep going, baby."
Sue, wanting desperately to please her cousin, quickly shifted and began using her left hand to stroke the throbbing rod. Within seconds she had regained her earlier rhythm. She used her right hand to cradle his testicles. Now, her head was almost at belt level, only inches from the great pulsating hot stick with its purple head. Rod's entire pelvis moved frantically up and down in rhythm with her hand. Each upward thrust caused his penis to come closer and closer to her face. The excitement was building up in Sue, as well, and part of the excitement came from bringing pleasure to him. The thought of what she was doing merely added fuel to her own arousal. The fire was now roaring out of control, unstoppable, and uncontainable, in the hidden gullies of her womb. She wanted to feel Rod inside her; she knew she wanted to be fucked, had to be fucked... if that was what it took. She wanted to be raped... anything, just so long as the fires were put out. As his prick came closer and closer to her lips, it seemed to grow monstrously. The little hole that had been in the center had expanded until it looked as if a pencil could be inserted there. Rod's hands suddenly left the steering wheel and took her head, pushing her face closer to it. "Suck it, baby, suck it, suck it!" he cried frantically. For just a split second, Sue was revolted by the request, but then the memory of him sucking on her breasts and the deliriously enjoyable feeling it had brought made her want to return the favor. Obediently, she bent her head and opened her mouth. Her cousin lost no time in cramming the hot throbbing cock into her throat. Sue thought she would choke. She continued to move her hand up and down the shaft as she sucked at the head. Suddenly, Rod made one savage movement which almost shoved the instrument of love down to her tonsils, and her mouth was filled with a hot pulsating thick cream that spurted like a never-ending fountain all the way down her throat. She gagged and attempted to swallow, but there was simply too much to handle. She choked and felt Rod's hands pull her mouth away; her lips reluctantly left the cock, which continued to spew out semen. The jism hit her face and eyebrows and splattered over her sweater. It shot into her hair and flowed out of the corners of her mouth to drip off her chin down the front of her sweater where it hung to the wool like milky drops of perspiration.
Rod had said, "Oh, Jesus, Sue baby. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that." He fell back into a slumped position, still breathing hoarsely, against the door. The penis slowly deflated until it was no larger than an oversized and very wrinkled little sausage.
Sue used her hands to wipe the cum from her chin and forehead. That stream of liquid from Rod's cock had not put out the fires raging in her own vagina. They roared unabated through the virgin forests-burning desolately in the far reaches of the wilderness areas of her pussy. She knew instinctively that the fun and games were over as far as Rod was concerned. Her fires would continue to burn. Rod's climax had come in her mouth and Sue did not feel resentful about it. It was a good thing that one of them had been able to obtain relief. Still, though, she was afire and for some reason she felt like weeping. She wanted to claw at her body, to relieve it, to punish it.
All of these thoughts were raging through her mind as she silently used Rod's shirt tails to dry her face and breasts and hair.
Then Rod seemed to get hold of himself. He turned to her and began caressing her breasts again. They were painfully sensitive, but still it felt good. A moment later, he pushed her down until she was lying almost full-length on the car seat.
She lay there with her eyes closed for a moment, waiting, waiting for something else to happen. She looked up and saw Rod had kicked off his shoes, and was in the process of pulling clown his pants. Even as she watched his beautiful prick was swelling again. It twitched like the tail of an angry wild lion released from a cage. Rod was nude as he pulled her sweater over her head, and with one quick motion unzipped her skirt and removed it. Now both teenagers were naked.
Sue was afire, but she was scared as well. She lay there, eyes wide and frightened, like some helpless bird confronted by a snake. The snake was coming closer, closer... closer, in a familiar charade. She opened her mouth to receive it.
Abruptly, with the first saline taste of his hot throbbing cock, the fright left her. She wanted it all again.
Rod seemed to be making some unusually awkward movements. He kneeled above her, with his back to the right side of the door and his face toward the steering wheel. Sue had to tilt her head back in order to keep the instrument in her mouth. As she sucked eagerly on his cock, he slowly lowered his ass, driving the pulsating rod further and further into her throat. Sue thought she was going to choke. Little gagging noises came from her mouth. She had put up her hands against his hip bones in order to push him away when she felt the first gentle little kiss of his hot lips against her love-starved cunt. Sue almost went insane. Rod began to lick that aching slit, and the touch of his tongue was the most glorious thing she had ever experienced. She moaned as the ripples of joy spread out. Rod licked from clitoris to tightly puckered little anus, lapping like a thirsty dog. Then he changed technique and his lips became a vacuum cleaner at her vagina. For a moment it felt as though he were attempting to suck every organ right out of her body. Then, his tongue was forcing apart the fleshy hair-lined lips of the moist furrow. Without further ado, his tongue drove deep down into it, and Sue tried to scream in delirious joy, but the cock deep in her throat elicited only a moan. She closed her soft warm thighs convulsively around either side of his moving head. She could feel his ears against the inside of her knees. She gurgled out a scream when, in a moment of passion, Rod cruelly bit her sensitive clitoris.
Sue instinctively attempted to give him pleasure with her own tongue, but his cock really was too large. It was a piledriver banging in and out of her mouth. She was making gasping, gagging noises. She was choking. It was impossible to take it any longer. She was suffocating. She would die. She clawed at his buttocks in an effort to make him pull out, but the sharp raking pain of her fingernails slashing across his gleaming white globes only drove him on until he was so deep into her throat that his pubic hairs were pressing up against her nostrils and slobbering lips. It didn't matter! It didn't matter, for things were happening in her cunt. The tip of his tongue was circling the quivering erected clitoris; his mouth sucked, pulling the warm soft folds of her vaginal lips against his bared teeth and into the red hot caverns of his mouth.
She was completely at his mercy. Lost! A love slave willing to die from love. Nothing existed but the fire in her cunt and the joy sausage in her throat. Her back was an arched bridge as it bent upward toward Rod's eager lips. Her feet hit the car door handle, but pain was unnoticed. And then, incredibly... it was happening-the explosion that Joan had talked about was here. Indescribably beautiful.
"Oh... ohhh! Aggghh! I'm dimming!" She mumbled inarticulately because of the cock in her mouth. She threw her legs apart slamming her knee against the steering wheel, as the convulsions began in her vagina and spread out into the abdominal area. The contracting muscles of her innermost sex spat out more lubricant, and it rushed like a hot sticky roaring white tide to flood into the estuaries of his mouth. He continued to lick; she continued to cum. And through it all, she felt a far-off sense of disappointment because his hot throbbing rod had been pulled from her mouth. Even as she lay there, almost senseless from the overwhelming ecstasy of her climax, she tried to return it to her mouth-seeking it like a blind un-weaned calf looking for the milk teat.
But the prick was gone, Rod had moved away from her. For a moment, she assumed the sex act had been concluded between them. Then, she felt Rod decisively pulling her legs apart and lifting her knees so that the bottom of her feet were pressed flat against the leather seat. She opened her eyes. Rod's face was next to hers; he kissed her savagely, and she tasted the honey of her own cunt and her own cum.
Gradually, Rod lowered himself onto her body. And now she could feel the hardness of that awesome male instrument down there where, only a moment before, the sweet softness of his mouth had been. She was about to be fucked-really fucked. By a man! The knowledge did not dismay her, but she could feel herself tensing, preparing for the pain Joan had told her was to come.
Abruptly then, as she felt the spongy hardness of his throbbing hot cock against her eager pussy lips, she gasped and shoved against his chest. "No, Rod. You can't. I don't want a baby."
Rod laughed clown at her. "Silly, I don't want you to have one. Here, feel this." He took her hand and pulled it over to his prick; it should have felt wet from her mouth, but it was dry now and there was an alien, "non-skin" feel about the thing. "I'm wearing a rubber," he explained. "You'll be okay."
Sue forced herself to relax. So let it be, she thought in resignation. I really do want to be fucked. I want to feel him inside of me. She tried to relax, willed herself to loosen her tight abdominal muscles, and she thought she had been successful-but, when the huge purple head of Rod's prick brushed against her clitoris, she felt no joy. Gradually, almost imperceptibly, Rod began gentle little up and down movements along the crack of her vaginal opening-lubricating his prick on her slippery cum. Now, a tentative probe... the knob of the cock was just inside her. It really was inside her! She was surprised. It was supposed to hurt the first time a man did it to you, she thought. But... but... why! This isn't painful at all! I feel like I'm being stretched down there, but in spite of that, it feels... wonderful.
Rod contented himself with gently moving the head in and out of that slippery moist furrow. Abruptly, Sue was excited again as the last glow from her earlier climax evaporated in the heat of this new fire. She could feel his hot hard flesh pacing like a restless caged tiger back and forth across the full length of her quivery open slit. It was maddening to her. It was beautiful. She had to have more... she wanted him deep inside of her-just as Joan had described. Her hips twisted. "Fuck me. Fuck me hard," she cried, pushing her pelvis up against the invading shaft of hot blood and muscle.
Rod did not answer; he merely continued the maddening tease of a little in, and a little out. Not hurrying, not worrying.
"Give it to me... push it in all the way... please." Rod merely kissed her.
A moment later, though, he pushed inward a bit more... until almost two inches of his prick was lodged within. Only then, did Sue begin to feel some real discomfort. It felt wonderful, but... her cunt seemed to be stretching. He had been too big for her after all! She was thinking of asking him to stop when, suddenly, he quit kissing her and pulled back with a puzzled expression on his face. His huge penis was two inches in her. He withdrew it until only the knob was buried in the soft pink furrow of her outer vaginal lips. Ah, that was better, she thought. She moved in cooperation with him. As he came down, she came up. Again he stopped when only two inches were in her. The excitement was coming back, as was his surprised look. She had gotten used to his cock; her vagina had accommodated him after all. She moaned deep in her throat. She wanted it all again; she wanted everything. Convulsively she splayed her legs wide and, using both hands, grabbed the cheeks of his ass and propelled him inward with a violent thrust. The huge seven inch prick drove in until the balls slapped against her asshole.
"Aieeee... " she screamed. The searing white flame of pain flashed through her. She had been torn apart by a thunderclap of agony. She was dying. Nothing in her entire life had been this painful before. Nothing could ever be again. Nothing Joan had said or implied had prepared her for this. She shrieked again, and an apprehensive Rod smothered her screams with his mouth. She attempted to throw him off; she kicked, she squirmed, she threw her body from side to side, slamming him and herself against the dashboard and steering wheel. She clawed his back bloody with her fingernails. She tried every way to pull her impaled cunt away from that arrow of agony. But each movement only deepened the pain, deepened the penetration. Finally, she lay still, not moving... her muscles as tense as steel cables, her body quivering like a bird caught in a net.
Except for attempting to quieten her screams, Rod had made absolutely no movement since she had forced the penetration. He was buried up to the hilt in her; it felt as if it were in deep enough to come out her throat. Tears streamed down Sue's face. After a moment, Rod removed his mouth from hers.
He wore a look of stunned incredulity when he said hoarsely, almost in disbelief, "Hey... you were a cherry, a virgin! Christ, why didn't you tell me? I would have been more gentle if I had known that. I knew I was having trouble getting into you, but I thought maybe you were wearing something in there. A virgin... " He still looked as if he couldn't believe it, in spite of the all too obvious evidence.
She sobbed in pain an shame, "I... thought... you'd laugh at me."
"Look, I'm sorry I hurt you. I didn't mean to." He held his body rigid, not moving at all.
"It's all right," Sue said. Strangely enough, just in the last few seconds, everything was beginning to change. She had lost her virginity. It was gone! Goodbye, forever! Now, she wondered, what do we do next? What am I supposed to do? The pain was definitely lessening.
Rod's cock twitched involuntarily, and she became aware that he was still inside of her; there was no question about that! Earlier, when she screamed she wanted it all... all of it inside her, she had no way of knowing exactly what that meant. Now she knew! lie was deep; he couldn't be any deeper if he had another ten inches. There were seven and a half hard, hot inches of him-inside there, inside her, throbbing away like a second heart. The pain was still there, but it was only an echo of the earlier agony. Her pussy seemed crammed and stretched beyond capacity. And yet?
She felt one sympathetic eager little muscle twitch in her pussy. There was an answering throb from Rod's prick. That solid muscular shaft jerked again, and her cunt responded with a vaginal contraction which brought a moan of pleasure from him. Somewhere in the area of what she assumed was her cervix, she felt abdominal-womb muscles moving against the pulsating head of his cock. She could feel it- feel it all... all of him... and it was beautiful beyond compare. The center of her being was down there; all her sensations came from there. She could even feel the stiff pubic hairs on his scrotum tickling her anus, and the sensation was strangely pleasurable.
Sue began experimenting with movement, mostly muscle movement in the cheeks of her ass and along her inner thighs. She tentatively dipped her pelvis and the rod moved an inch outward. That hurt a bit. Rod apparently was willing to let her take the initiative... at least for now. She timidly pushed up with her pelvis and the sword sank back into its sheath again. That hurt... or did it? Abruptly Sue decided it didn't hurt at all. She dipped her abdomen and Rod's prick slowly withdrew about an inch and a half. Then she forgot herself for a moment and eagerly pushed up. "Oh... " the groan came involuntarily from her. It hurt. Rod pulled back again. This time she pushed up cautiously; it didn't hurt. The little movements continued for a minute or two, each one becoming less painful than the one proceeding it. Now, the cum from her earlier orgasm mixed with the blood of her broken hymen to form a super-lubricant, and she found she could take a thrust of two inches. Slowly... and gently. Thrust. Withdrawal. Thrust... withdrawal. Two and a half-three-three and a half... easy... easy does it.
Her body was returning to life. She could feel the far-off reverberations of ecstasy in her breasts and upper abdomen. The metronome of Rod's penis was moving in and out in time to music only their bodies could hear. Most of the pain was gone! There was a velvet wonderful-ness now deep inside her womb; it was electric. That feeling grew until lightning arced its way across nerves and ganglions to short out her centers of reason and sanity in a shower of delicious sparks. Nothing mattered now but man and woman-cock and cunt. Sue wildly began rotating her hips from side to side around that godlike instrument of delight. Her pussy seemed to be acting with a mind of its own- paying homage to the savage cudgel battering into it. Her cuntal muscles had enclosed the cock, caressing it and massaging it, not wanting to let it leave for even a moment. She was being fucked! She was being fucked-and she loved it! By some incredible osmosis, her pussy was devouring his prick. Her body was attempting to pull him, his entire body, inside of her through that little opening clown there.
The tempo increased, and Rod's prick began withdrawing almost its entire length before slamming down through those moist hair-lined caverns of cuntdom. Sue sensed what was happening down there; she could visualize it-even though she had never seen it before. In her mind, she could see the thin soft pink ridges of her vagina clinging lovingly-puckeringly-to the penis as it withdrew and she screwed her ass down into the car seat. Then the entry-that fiery reentry from cold lonely outer space-pushing the soft folds back into her. Rod's glistening penis, like a round all-white Roman candle disappearing into the warm depths of that cavern between her outspread legs.
Rod began taking charge of the entire situation. Sue was happy to let him do so. Pain was forgotten now; no pain could ever make headway against that exquisite velvet explosion building up inside her. Like a toreador with a cape, his movements expertly moved and headed her to a point she had been seeking intuitively all her life. She was coming closer, but still it was not close enough. She egged Rod on to deeper, more rapid thrusts. She grabbed his buttocks and wantonly pulled him into her. She felt herself approaching it now. It was unbelievable. Her body was being taken over by some outside force. Her thrusts became more urgent; she was aware that her mouth was opened in a grimace of lust and ecstasy; her tongue was pressing so hard against her lower teeth that it had begun to bleed. Her breasts darkened, her nipples looked as if they were about to drop off. The first far-off rumblings of a powerful earthquake began to quiver in her womb. She threw herself against Rod's prick; she was a marlin attempting to dislodge the hook deep within her. It was now. It was now!
"Now," she cried, and her back arched up high off the leather seat, and her knees-like a powerful vise-clamped against his buttocks. She found her hands grabbing for Rod's scrotum and violently rubbing it against her anal ring as though she were trying to fill that cavity as well.
"Ah... ah... I'm cumming... Aaaahhh... Aieeeee!" She threw herself back on the seat. Her body twitched uncontrollably. Her feet and legs pounded against the back of the seat and dashboard, and she made loud sucking noises as her tongue dropped down the back of her throat. The convulsions of love continued, and, through it all, an exaltation that was greater than any religious fervor raged in her nerves, muscles and flesh. Above everything the thought came, "Never before... and never again can anything feel so beautiful as this." She was wrong, though, for a moment later-while she herself was still in the throes of the orgasm-she felt Rod's penis abruptly grow larger and larger. It seemed to fill her womb like some rapidly expanding, hot, hard balloon. Then it began to throb, and it exploded down there.
"I'm cumming," he groaned.
"Cum, darling, cum," she said, wanting to repay him. She felt the first spurt as his ejaculation spewed. Her cunt instinctively squeezed his instrument, sucking at it, straining to pull it all into her. Suddenly, she hated his rubber! It was as though she was being denied a part of him. His cum was a life-giving white hot lava that should have completely filled her female cavities and, when his volcano continued to erupt, the molten flow should have spilled out of her pink quivering quim to flow down the crevasse, across the white mounds of her still twitching buttocks. But the rubber prevented all of this. She wanted to feel the cum on her, wanted the slipperiness of it against her belly and ass and legs.
Rod was still inside of her. She would not let him out, even if he indicated he wanted to withdraw. She didn't want him ever to take it out again. Never! This was heaven.
The wild storm was moving rapidly away, leaving behind a beautiful sunset in her body.
Sue felt Rod take a deep sigh. He stared down at her with something akin to wonderment and admiration on his face. "You're incredible, cousin," he said, finally. "You've just got to have the best pussy I've ever been in. And this was your first time. I wonder what you'll be like in five years."
Sue knew she was blushing from the compliment. She lifted her face to kiss him. She felt an overwhelming gratitude to her cousin; he had guided her to a place she had not known existed before. It was a land of love where hardness and softness-the cock and the cunt-embrace each other and become one. Her cousin had given her pleasure, true pleasure, and before this the word had been merely a hollow, meaningless phrase. When she pulled her lips away from his, she said huskily, "Thank you."
Rod's prick had deflated inside her, and now he began withdrawing it. She felt it leave her body-feeling as though some integral part of her was departing forever. It came out with a slight plopping noise and, in its passing, she only then felt the coolness of the bare seat against her thighs and buttocks.
She watched as Rod stripped the rubber from his cock; it slipped off easily, and Sue found herself fighting the desire to lick his penis clean-like a mother cat and a helpless kitten.
She had thought she would be embarrassed when it came time to dress again, but there was no coyness between them. They dressed silently, then Rod started the car, backed it out, and drove down the mountain.
He pulled up in front of her dormitory, came around, and opened the door. She sat there, silent for a moment, deliberating whether to ask the question or not. Then, mentally, she shrugged and asked it. "Rod... tell me... where did you learn to do... things like you... did to me... tonight?"
He stared down at her. Then nodded. "You won't tell anyone, I guess. It's sort of a family affair. Jejune!"
Sue gasped. "Jejune?"
"Um-huh. Cousin Jejune."
"But... but... she's older."
Rod snorted. "I'm seventeen, she's twenty-six. She taught me these things-these things a woman likes-when I was only thirteen." Then he laughed. "You might say we're keeping sex education in the family, instead of relying on the schools."
"But... Jejune?" Sue was astonished. Jejune was the real socialite of the family. Rich, pampered... and something else she hadn't wanted to tell Rod. There was something strange about Jejune"... a thing that frightened Sue. Jejune had kissed her in the boathouse one summer two years before, and it was not a kiss that one woman gives to another-it was a man-woman kiss. Well, maybe she was wrong, maybe it had just been her imagination.
Rod walked her up to the front door. "How about tomorrow night?" he asked.
"All right," she said, feeling the glow of forbidden excitement already beginning in her abdomen.
But tomorrow night had not come. When Rod had gone back to his own quarters, there had been a telegram telling him of his father's death. Rod didn't return to school that year... and, at his mother's request, he had enrolled in an East Coast school.
That had been the last time she had seen her cousin... eight years ago. She had been a child then, and now sleepily, she wondered what she was... ? She wondered if he would even remember her, and that thought brought her wide awake again. For she suddenly realized she was going to make an effort to locate him here in Sun Valley.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sue was strangely quiet during breakfast out on the sun terrace. At first John thought she was beginning to think about chickening out on the ski lessons, but when he asked if she was worried about getting on the slopes she had answered with an emphatic shake of her head.
She really looks great, John thought, like a god-damned movie actress! And those ski pants fitting snugly on her rounded buttocks were almost as sexy as that new black peignoir she bought for the trip. Her breasts pushed against the bulky red and white ski sweater, and there was absolutely no doubt in anyone's mind at all that those were all hers-no padding and probably no bra, either.
John had seen several males gazing in open speculation at her, with a couple of men doing a double take, as though they thought they knew her from the television or something... or thought they should know her. That pleased him, knowing he owned the best piece of merchandise in a place that was simply packed to the gunnels with ("lass A, number one premium talent. "Kat your hearts out, you poor unfortunate bastards," John said to himself, smirking. "This is one female you'll have to speculate about, because you'll never-not in a hundred years-get your pecker in there. That's my territory."
Sue seemed oblivious to the open stares of admiration. She absent-mindedly stirred her coffee, and John realized then that something was really bothering her because she never used sugar or cream, so she was merely contemplating the spoon and cup. "Honey," he said, and received no answer from her. "Darling!" It was said sharper this time, and she looked up and blinked.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
She smiled at him, a closed-mouth smile without too much humor in it, but lots of love and affection. She stared at him, and John was forced to ask again, "What's wrong? Aren't you feeling well?"
Wordlessly she shook her head to indicate she was okay, then she carefully put her spoon in the saucer and took a deep breath. "John... do you remember once... my telling you about my father's brother and his family-the Morgans?"
"Yeh! Sure. Your late Uncle Rod and Rod, Junior? Junior is the jet-setter isn't he?"
She shrugged. "All I know about Rod-Junior-is what I read in the newspaper clippings that Aunt Martha sends me once in a while."
"Well... what about Junior?"
She smiled patiently. "His name, darling, is Rod... not Junior. His father's dead."
"Junior-schmoonyer. He's your cousin. Right?"
"Yes." She stared past him, watching a girl doing pirouettes on the ice skating rink. "What would you think about my calling him? He lives here." Then glancing at him, she continued more rapidly, eagerly, "Maybe we could get together with him and have cocktails."
John hesitated. He didn't know anything about Rod except that he didn't have to work and spent most of his time chasing around the world-following the sun or the snow-and surrounding himself with what the newspaper society columnists like to call "The Beautiful People." He thought about it, weighing the advantages and disadvantages of getting involved with family while he was on vacation. Then, uncaring, he shrugged. "Whatever you want to do."
She brightened. "You really wouldn't mind?"
"If it will make you happy, go right ahead."
Now Sue's eagerness was an evident thing. "I'll call him. Maybe he isn't here now. If he is... and if he invites us to anything... what shall I say?"
"Well, love, if you call him, you'd seem a bit of a shit if you didn't accept any invitation."
Sue glanced about her furtively, appearing embarrassed, "John... your language."
He laughed and stood. "Do whatever you want. Me? I'm going skiing." He paused, staring down boldly at her breasts and at the unconcealable Y where her lime green nylon ski pants came together at the junction of her thighs. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively a couple of times. "F... ah... could be persuaded to... ah... go later. After a little exercise?"
Sue blushed and gazed apprehensively around her again. "John! Go... skiing." Then she dimpled, "That will be ready for you when you come back."
He suddenly became very serious. "Take it easy on the 'bunny slope,' love. I wouldn't want you in a cast; that would probably mean no dancing or anything."
"Don't worry, I'll be careful," she promised.
Twenty minutes later, John was tightening the quick-release bindings on his Head skis and preparing to hop aboard the chairlift which went to the top of one of the intermediate ski runs. He planned to try this slope a couple of times this morning and gradually work his way over to the most difficult run of all.
He swung into the line, waiting for an available chair to swing down. A well-packaged little blonde, wearing a cossack fur hat and a really tight-fitting red jump suit, swung into line opposite him. They grinned companionably at each other. "Not bad," John mentally intoned. "A fine constructed little piece, that. About eighteen-needs educating. Probably fucks like a rabbit, but doesn't have any idea of the finer aspects of screwing."
The lift attendant grabbed the chair as it moved around the cable housing and held up the bar. John and the girl quickly moved into the load line. The chair began moving, hit the back of their knees-causing them to sit-and the bar was locked into place by the attendant. Then they were swinging free of the ground.
"First time today?" John asked, casually inspecting the girl out of the corner of his eye. She did have a nice cuddlesome little figure. Tits were okay-not half as good as Sue's, but acceptable. And a nice rounded little ass that just begged for a kneading.
"Oh... I've been out since eight this morning," she answered, staring boldly and openly at him. "Might as well get up and out early; those idiots at the Inn won't let you sleep after six anyway."
"Too bad," John said, a trifle absent-mindedly, because their thighs were pressed together and he could feel the heat of the girl's body through his own clothes. They had sat down together this way, and although there was room for either of them to move, the girl showed no inclination to separate. So... what the hell, he thought.
The girl pointed suddenly up the hill toward a black speck hurdling down the hill. "That's Tony Fitzgerald. The idiot. He's going too fast for this slope; the shadows are pretty badly iced through that one area up there. He has a suicide complex, I think," she said, half seriously.
John grinned. "Not me, though. Where's home?" he asked, suddenly changing the conversation.
"Home's San Francisco. But I go to Stanford."
John mentally said to himself, "And I'll bet you're a freshman and you're majoring in English." Then aloud, he asked, "What year? What are you studying?"
"Freshman. I'm taking as many English courses as I can. Where's home for you?"
"San Francisco."
"Small world! Where are you staying here?" She asked it directly, without coyness. "At the Lodge."
"Neat. I wish I could afford to stay there." She made a half grimace. "I'm in the dorm at the Inn. What I wouldn't give just to sit by a fireplace and a chance to take a shower or soak in a tub without a bunch of other girls around!" Then she tossed out the question John would have been willing to bet a thousand dollars that she was going to ask. "Do you have a fireplace?"
He nodded, waiting, amused, knowing he was about to be propositioned by this very sexy little girl. And together with the amusement there was a feeling of regret at having to let her go away unscrewed by him. She probably wouldn't be much of a fuck compared to his wife and Dorothy, but she was fresh and eager... and almost anything he did with her would be new and wring squeals of delight from her. That would be fun! But impossible.
She pursed her lips, and inspected his figure from top to skis. "A fireplace. A nice hot tub. Some people have all the luck. And I suppose you have a wife... with you?"
John sighed. "I'm afraid so."
She shrugged. "Too bad... "
They had reached the top of the lift and, released from their chair, the girl simply dug in with her poles and went slooshing off down the slope.
John watched her figure fade and then disappear altogether as she traversed in back of a line of timber. He wondered once again, as he had so many times in the last six months, why it was that he no longer was satisfied with just one woman. If he had thought there was any chance of moving this little blonde cunt into the Lodge and his being able to get away with it without Sue finding out, he would not have hesitated a second. It would have been worth the couple of hundred bucks. And he knew also that he would have screwed her into the mattress like she had never been screwed before, and he would have fucked her morning, noon and night. But... no sense in bitching about things you can't change...
He bent and checked his bindings once again, then began the long downward trek.
CHAPTER SIX
There were several Morgans listed in the telephone directory, but no Rod Morgan. There was, however, an R. Morgan who lived on Chateau Chalet Road. With mixed emotions, Sue dialed the number. The phone rang several times and then a foreign, possibly Spanish, female voice answered.
For a split second Sue thought about hanging up, but she had gone this far and it did seem ridiculous to visit Sun Valley and not pay her respects to a member of the family. "Pardon me," she said, "but is this the residence of Rod Morgan?"
"Yes." That was all the information volunteered by the heavily accented voice. "Is Mister Morgan there?"
"No."
"Do you expect him soon?"
"Who ees calleng puleez?"
"This is Sue Morgan Bigelow. Rod and I are cousins."
Only then did the faceless voice seem to relent. Compared to its earlier noncommittalness, it sounded positively friendly when the woman said, "Oh, si! A relative! Un momento, I tell Senora Morgan." There was a clatter as the telephone was laid down on the other end of the line, then footsteps fading away into the distance.
After a delay of almost a full minute, there was a click as an extension phone somewhere in the chalet was picked up and another female voice came on the line. "Sue? Sue Morgan?"
"Yes. Is this... Rod's wife?"
"No, you goose. It's Jejune. Where in hell are you?"
"Jejune! I'm at the Lodge. It's so great to hear your voice again after all these years."
The two cousins exchanged pleasantries for a few moments before Sue asked, "Are you staying with Rod?"
"My husband-my fifth, or is it my sixth husband; sometimes I loose track!-anyway, my husband and I are here for a couple of days. We leave for Mazatlan on Sunday. Rod's up on the slopes right now, and Donna is in the sauna, or she would have greeted you herself. Seems something's wrong with the bloody telephone in there-must be the heat. When will we see you?"
"Well... I really hadn't thought... "
"Don't be anti-social, darling! After all, we are relatives--all kissing cousins. Come up for cocktails and dinner; better yet, come up for lunch. Are you by yourself?"
"I'm married now." Sue didn't add that the wedding invitations to both Jejune and Rod had been returned with all sorts of exotic-looking postage marks and foreign notations on them- as undeliverable.
"Bring him along."
"Look, we don't want to intrude."
"Don't be ridick. Rod will be simply furious if you don't. And Donna will be hurt; you two have never met, have you? She's a dear! Besides," she gushed, "I want you to meet my husband, Kirk DeLapp; you probably remember reading his name in the sports section. He sponsors race cars at Indianapolis and places like that."
Sue really hadn't heard of him, but she hummed over the phone as if she were surprised.
Jejune continued animatedly, "Anyway, darling. Come on up. Right now! I'll have Manuel bring the station wagon down and pick you up."
"Right now?"
"Why not?"
"Well... John's up on the slopes." She didn't add that he had said he wouldn't be back for lunch, would probably eat up at the lift cafeteria rather than come back all the way to the Lodge. This arrangement had been made because Sue was enrolled in the beginner's ski school and was expected to lunch with her instructor the first day.
"Leave him a note. Do you ski?"
"I'm learning."
"Well, hell, then! Why not let Kirk-who was almost on the winter Olympics team once -and Rod teach you. Rod's a great skier. You couldn't have any better instructors, and I know they'd love to."
A sudden spark of excitement ignited in Sue; that sounded fabulous. It would be something to brag about when they got back... might even make that supercilious John, who thought he was such a great skier, a little envious. The words bubbled out of her throat, "Oh, Jejune! Do you really think...?"
Jejune's laughter cut her off, "Of course, darling. I'll send Manuel right away. He'll be in uniform and driving a blue and white Chrysler station wagon. It takes about ten minutes to reach the Lodge from the chalet here, so look for him. That is, if you can be ready then?"
Sue was waiting out front with her skis when she saw the station wagon turn off the main road and come toward the Lodge entrance. A uniformed man was driving it. He apparently didn't know exactly what she looked like, so Sue gave him a little wave. He grinned and the car swung over toward the overhang.
"Se�orita Morgan?" he asked, all teeth and obviously pleased at making connections so easily.
Sue didn't bother to correct him with her married name; she merely nodded, and then waited as he took her skis and put them in the back of the wagon.
She tried to make conversation with him on the way up to the chalet, but there was a minor language difficulty. All she got out of him was that he and his wife acted as caretakers when the Morgans were gone, and as cook and chauffeur when Rod and his wife were at the chalet. The Spanish couple lived there all year round.
Finally, after driving about eight or nine minutes, Manuel swung the car around a steep snow bank and bent forward, with his chin above the steering wheel, to point toward a huge house atop the next hill. "That is Se�or Morgan's," he said, proudly.
It looks like a post card picture from one of the European travel magazines, Sue thought with a gasp. She could see three figures on lounge chairs out on the sun balcony. One of them, a woman-it looked like Jejune-waved.
A moment later, the car stopped in front of the house. Manuel had come around to open the door for her when the front door of the chalet opened and a tall male, dressed in white polo shirt and black ski pants, came out into the sunlight.
And it was then that Sue realized she probably had made a mistake, after all.
"Rod," her lips formed the word, but she was -in effect--speechless because the moment she looked at him and saw the way he was staring in appreciation at her, she knew he was thinking the exact same thing she was... and was remembering the mutual giving of their bodies that night eight years ago.
Wordlessly, he assisted her from the car, put his arms around her, and then, without preamble, French-kissed her with an ardor that brought the blood pounding to her face, breasts, abdomen, and pussy. Without volition, she found herself responding and the kiss was broken only by the sound of Jejune's laughter behind them. "All right, you two. Plenty of time for that."
Rod held her at arms length, critically inspecting her figure. "I knew you were going to be great someday, but I never realized... "
Jejune looked positively ravishing and seemed to radiate a youthfulness that belied her almost 40 years. Her violet eyes glowing with a sensual heat, she stepped up, embraced Sue, and kissed her on the lips.- It was exactly the same kind of kiss that had so bothered Sue when she was only twelve; there was a difference this time... Sue could feel the sheet lightning of wicked wantonness shoot through her loins. She knew now, for sure, what Jejune was-and somehow the dark thought excited her.
The three cousins stepped back from each other, then smiled in some secret understanding.
And, abruptly, Sue knew instinctively that she would never leave this chalet the same way she had entered it... relatively innocent. She would leave with a new knowledge of herself -whether it be good or bad. A caterpillar of fear slowly crawled up her spine. Maybe this thing she was going to learn about herself, her body, and her desires was something she didn't want to know. It would be better to turn around now, even if it meant insulting her family, go back to the Lodge, and forget all about her kissing cousins. But even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew it was already too late.
It had been too late ever since the moment last night when, in her mind, Rod had fucked her while husband John was making love to her.
And, as far as that was concerned, perhaps it had been too late since long, long before that event even... perhaps since she was twelve.
She did not resist as Jejune and Rod both put their arms around her and led her out of the open sunlight into the luxurious dimness of the chalet.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It was almost too much coincidence to be believable, Donna thought wryly, but she was convinced by Rod and Jejune's all-too-evident surprise that cousin Sue's unexpected arrival in Sun Valley really had not been planned.
From her vantage point on the balcony, she watched through the huge frame and glass open doors as the red-haired, vivacious young girl crossed the big cathedral-ceilinged front room with Rod and Jejune. All three were laughing gaily at something. The sunlight streaming down from the skylights played on Sue's hair, and the light and shadow combination did rather fantastic things for her figure; she looked every bit as well built as any motion picture love goddess. "That's all we need," Donna said under her breath, "another of the incestuous Morgans to join us for bed and board." Sue would be competition.
Donna had reason enough for her dismay. She hated Kirk DeLapp, Jejune's husband; he was a crude, loud-mouthed bore. At one time when he had been driving race cars professionally, he might have been handsome, but that was years before. Now his belly hung out over his belt and his face was a deeply trenched battlefield of lines and ruptured veins from too much alcohol. All of that did not in itself make him un-likeable. It was his sadistic tendencies that brought great concern to Donna, that and his ugly penchant for pederasty. Jejune, herself, had told her that Kirk found it impossible to enjoy normal female-male sex any longer; he was too jaded! He went for kinky sex... for belts and boys and women who would play his games. In his own crude vernacular, whispered to her one drunken evening, Kirk had explained it simply as, "The asshole, baby. Boy or girl. It's the only way to fuck." Donna had no doubt that the two pimply-faced sixteen-year-old boys who had gone up the slope earlier in the day for ski lessons with Kirk were both, right at this very moment, standing bare-assed in some warming hut and being instructed in the finer arts of buggery. What bothered her most was Rod's rapport with the automotive engineer; her husband had begun to demand new and crazier things from her in bed. He especially had begun to want anal intercourse, which revolted her, because she felt the act was perverted, degrading and obscene. Once in Zermatt, Switzerland, five years ago when Donna had first come into the Morgan family as a bride, she drunkenly permitted Kirk to take her to bed, and he had debased her in the most vile manner. Her adultery had been an act of revenge-pure and simple vengeance-because her horrified eyes had just witnessed Rod and his cousin Jejune in a sixty-nine position in the bedroom. It was not until the following day that she began to suspect that the whole thing had been planned for her benefit. And her suspicions had been confirmed by Jejune herself, who admitted everything. Jejune! Ah, yes. That had been the ultimate act of Donna's degradation, for Jejune-while comforting the weeping, bewildered young bride- had worked her mysterious alchemy on Donna who found herself willingly-even eagerly!- participating for the first time in her life in a lesbian act with the petite cousin. And since that time five years ago? It was still impossible to deny Jejune; all the older woman had to do was look at her with those glowing eyes, and the sweat would break out on the palms of her hands, and the tingling-that horrible, perverted, eager tingling-would begin all over her body, and a terrible forbidden longing would threaten to consume her. There was nothing Donna could do to combat it; she knew she was hooked worse than a heroin addict... but only with Jejune. Other women, other lesbians, did not excite her, and her sultry good looks and obvious femininity seemed to turn off even the most aggressive of the butch dykes.
Now, the three cousins-like the famed Musketeers-came laughing through the door and out onto the balcony.
Hiding her feelings, Donna smiled warmly and rose.
Rod made the introductions. "Donna, meet Sue."
"What a pleasant surprise to hear from you," Donna said, bending forward and bussing the girl on the cheek. "Welcome to the Morgan homestead."
As the four of them talked, Donna found herself critically examining Sue. The girl was much younger and seemed far less socially conscious than she had expected a Morgan to be. There were moments when it seemed as if she were almost shy. All of Donna's feminine instincts, however, were ringing alarm bells because there obviously was something between Sue and Rod... or, knowing the Morgans, most likely had been in the past. She compared the features of the three cousins; they were all handsome-beautiful-and the family resemblance was unmistakable. She had no doubt Sue had the same intense sexuality that surged like a wild, raging, white-water river through Rod and Jejune at times.
Although Donna participated in the conversation, a part of her mind stood off watching, observing, and evaluating. Rod had his "hungry look" and Jejune looked like a poised cheetah, with only an occasional twitch betraying her intense excitement. As for Sue? She looked like some unsuspecting sacrificial animal.
Finally the conversation got around to skiing, and Rod offered to teach his cousin, starting immediately. Sue eagerly agreed to the lessons.
"We'll go up Red Mountain and then I'll instruct you on the way down," Rod said.
Sue looked doubtful. "I've only had about five or six lessons. I had planned to work out on the bunny slope at the Lodge. I'm really not sure... "
"Oh, nonsense," Jejune interrupted. "Rod's a better instructor than any of the pros they've got down there. As far as that's concerned, so is Kirk."
"She's right, you know," Rod continued. "I won't let you do anything that might get you into trouble.
Donna saw the uncertainty fade from Sue's face and the young girl began nodding her head eagerly. "Well... if you say so."
"I say so," Rod said, and exchanged a look with his older cousin, who smiled back in a rather odd manner.
Suddenly, Donna knew what the two were planning, and she would have no part of it. Her anger sparked and she fought for control of her voice. Surprisingly, considering her turmoil, she sounded still friendly and calm when she said, "That sounds like fun; I think I'll go along."
Rod's expression was murderous, but that threat in itself was not enough to change her mind; it was Jejune who did that when the older girl crooned, "I think you'd better stay here with me, Donna. You know how nervous people are when they are first learning things, they don't want witnesses to their mistakes. Resides, darling, I have a little something I wanted help with... " She peered at Donna from under downcast eyebrows, and her little pink tongue came out and slowly made a wet circumference of her lips. Donna recognized the look and almost immediately she found it difficult to breathe.
"All right," she said, dully, and sat there while her husband and Sue disappeared into the house. A moment later, she heard their laughter outside in front, and then the sound of the private rope tow's engine being started.
Abruptly, tears were streaming down her face. She ran inside and up the heavily carpeted stairs to her bedroom, slammed the heavy door behind her, and threw herself down on the bed. She wept disconsolately. She knew what Sue and Rod were going to do, even if Sue didn't know. And she, the loving wife, was helpless to prevent it. It was almost more than she could stand. There really was only one thing that made it bearable at all.
Sobbing, she heard the door open. She turned face up on the bed, tears streaming down both sides of her face.
Jejune, smiling hungrily, walked slowly across the room toward her. As she walked, she was unfastening the buttons of her body shirt. She wore no bra under it, and her taut, tight up-thrust little breasts with the nipples like pencil erasers didn't jiggle at all as she moved.
Without saying a word, she sat on the side of the bed and began unzipping Donna's ski pants. "Men are such beasts," she said...
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sue had a lot of trouble staying upright on her skis as the rope tugged her up the mountainside. She fell several times and, laughing, Rod helped her up each time. Once, when he was aiding her, he had accidentally-from behind- cupped her breasts in his hands. Or at least Sue thought it must have been an accident. The act did distract her, however. Just as though it had happened only yesterday, she remembered the events of eight years ago... his hands on her breasts, his lips on her breasts... elsewhere.
She fell again, and turned to apologize, "Sorry I'm so clumsy, Rod."
"We all have to start sometime," he said, reassuringly. "Come on, I have an idea. I'll help you. All you have to do is sort of sit in my lap, that way you can't fall."
Rod grabbed the rope and let it slip through his gloves, keeping only tight enough grip on it to permit him to remain stationary and not slide backward. "Okay," he ordered, "now come right over directly in front of me, facing uphill, with your skis outside of mine. Then I'll tell you what else to do."
Gingerly, falling only twice, Sue managed to station herself in front of him as directed.
"Now, bend your knees just a little-as if you were getting ready to sit down in a chair," he ordered. Sue followed his instructions. "Okay, grab the rope loosely... right... and now, I'm sliding up... between your skis... "
Suddenly, Sue felt his body pressing against her back and his knees against the back of her knees.
"Now... sit back a little... "
Sue pushed out her rump until it was pressing against his lap and bent her knees even further.
"Hold on to the rope with your left hand... Put my ski poles with yours in your right hand, and let them dangle by the straps. Okay... here we go... " Rod's arm snaked around her waist, and his gloved hand cupped her left breast. Then they were moving smoothly uphill.
Sue was somewhat apprehensive about his hand, and adding to it was the fact that each time they went over a small ridge of snow, his arm pressed tightly against and rubbed her right breast. Most disconcerting thing of all, she thought she could feel his penis hardening as she sat in his lap. But then again, perhaps it was all her imagination. One way or the other, she decided to ride with it... she could always stop any dishonorable intentions he might have. The only problem was, she knew her nipples had become erect; and there was an uncomfortable buildup of heat in her crotch.
After about three minutes, they reached the summit, and Rod said, "Swing clear of the rope when I yell. Now!"
Sue made a half lunge to the right and found herself face down in the snow. Rod's delighted laughter made it all seem less embarrassing. She came up, brushing the snow from the front of her sweater.
Rod said, "Let me help you," and his hands began scraping the snow off her ski pants. His hands brushed downward on the outer leg, then worked their way up the inside. When he reached the junction of her thighs he lightly brushed the snow from her pelvic area. He had stopped laughing and, for that matter, so had Sue. She was aware of his hands-even though he was wearing heavy leather gloves. "I'm going to have to watch myself," she said sternly to herself, knowing that it was one thing to fantasize about fucking her cousin, but to actually permit it would be out of the question. After all, he was married. So was she! Even so, her knees felt far weaker than they should, and that in itself was a danger signal.
Sue's itinerant mind was wrenched back to the task at hand as, without warning, her back ski slid sideways and she fell down in the snow again.
"I'm hopeless," she said.
"No... you just don't know a couple of the more fundamental things." Rod put his ski pole down for her to grab and he hauled her to an upright position. "Now watch this." He dug his lower ski into the snow and it seemed as if he also turned his ankle inward slightly in order to give it better purchase. "When you are standing still on a slope, you have to put the brakes on. This is how you do it." He showed her. "Another thing that's causing you trouble is your tendency to follow your mother's earlier instructions that a nice girl always keeps her legs crossed. In skiing, forget that. A nice, upright, girl doesn't cross her skis, ever. You ask how to keep from doing that. Simple. Watch how I lock my skis into two parallel lines. One foot slightly in back of the other... thusly!"
The lesson continued for about ten minutes, then Rod and she began a slow traverse across the face of the slope. Just the few things Rod had told her made it much easier to stay upright. She had already learned more in a few minutes from Rod than she had from four one-hour lessons at Badger Pass. Sue was actually very pleased with herself. There was something wildly exhilarating about moving soundlessly across the mountain; it was almost eaglelike, she thought, and then corrected herself by thinking, "No, it's almost a sexual feeling being way up here-just two people moving together, back and forth, back and forth."
Time and again they traversed the hill, leaving behind them tracks in the unblemished, virginal snow. Rod continuously pointed out something new that would make her skiing easier, better.
Way, way down below them, Sue could see the chalet and the road and could make out other houses here and there. Some, however, were so well hidden that she wouldn't have known they were there if smoke hadn't been coming from the chimneys. It was all so... beautiful...
"Pay attention," Rod yelled, but it was too late! Suddenly her downhill ski seemed to acquire a mind of its own and pointed downhill; her body turned with it and she began picking up speed. She screamed in fright as she went over a hummock in the snow, and then she was falling -helplessly-end over end, clown the hill. She finally came to a stop about twenty-five feet away, lying with her leg twisted beneath her. She was in pain. How badly she was hurt, she didn't know, but it felt almost as if she had broken her leg. Rod was beside her immediately. He dug his poles into the snow and kicked off his skis. "Are you all right?" he asked, staring with undisguised concern down at her leg.
"It hurts," she said, blinking back tears of pain and mortification.
"Let's see," he said, all concern. He bent quickly beside her and touched her kneecap. "Okay there?" Sue nodded. He unfastened the safety binding and gently moved her ankle. "Okay?" Again, through tear-stained eyes, Sue shook her head. He straightened her leg out, watching her face as he did so. When she didn't grimace, he looked relieved. "Nothing broken, anyway. Where does it hurt the most?"
Sue put her hand behind her and rubbed her right buttock gingerly. "Right in here."
"A bruise most likely. Your back feels okay?"
"Yes."
Rod stood, apparently satisfied. He glanced around him and nodded toward a small cabin, half hidden by the pines, about fifty yards away.
"Do you think you can make it there so I can do some first aid and check you over further?"
"I think so." She held out her hand for assistance, and Rod helped her back to her feet. Now that she was standing, the pain in her buttock seemed to have lessened somewhat, although she could feel a strain mid-thigh.
"That was a nasty fall; you could have gotten hurt," Rod said sternly, then relented in his stern composure, "I'm glad you weren't, though." He refastened her ski.
"Me, too," Sue said, experimentally moving her ski from side to side.
Rod guided her across the icy section of the snow and then used his ski pole to tow her up to the front steps of the cabin. When she bent and attempted to remove her ski, she felt a stab of pain through the back of her thigh. A grimace shot across her face.
Rod looked concerned. "What's wrong?"
"I can really feel it, right back here," she said rubbing the area.
"Sounds like only a pulled muscle," he said and he seemed relieved again that there were no broken bones.
Sue waited while Rod removed his own skis, then watched as he walked upon the porch and removed a key from a ledge above the door, lie seemed so very sure of himself that Sue felt the cabin must belong to him.
As if sensing her thoughts, Rod turned around and grinned. "This is one of ours; we use it to house some of our artist friends during the summer when they want to have some privacy and a studio of their own." A moment later, he shoved against the door and, creaking, it swung inward. "Stay there," he ordered, and disappeared inside.
He was gone for what seemed to be a long time, and Sue heard crackling noises coming from the interior. At almost the same time, she saw a huge cloud of smoke begin to billow out of the chimney.
Rod came back, shivering. "God, it's cold in there. I've built a fire; it will warm up in three or four minutes."
Sue began to feel some uncertainty. She really wasn't sure she wanted to be alone in an isolated cabin with her cousin, not that she couldn't trust him or herself, but why put temptation before either one of them. "Rod... I think I might be able to get down the hill... I mean, there's no need to go to all this trouble... "
Rod actually looked stern. "I'm not letting you ski again until we know exactly what's wrong with your leg. If necessary, I'll go down, get the Snow-cat, and then come back and haul you down. Understand?"
Sue nodded, feeling suitably chastized for questioning the instructor.
Rod disappeared into the interior of the cabin again, and a moment later came back. "Okay. The chill is off. Come on in."
Sue limped inside. It was a rather pleasant place, she thought, in spite of its dimness and its mildew odor of disuse. All of the windows had been boarded up and the only light came from the flickering fireplace and three candles which Rod had set up on top of the bar. Sue moved instinctively toward the fireplace and felt the welcome heat while she was still six feet away from it. Although burning only five or six minutes now, the logs were already cracking and popping.
Rod removed his gloves and bulky ski sweater, revealing he was wearing only a thin white sleeveless knit shirt beneath. He came over and knelt in front of Sue. "Let's get the boots off," he said, "so I can check your ankle and lower leg." His hands were gentle and his movements careful as he unbuckled her boot and eased her foot from it. "Hurt?" he asked, and Sue, staring down with mixed emotions at the top of his head, answered, "No."
"Let's get the other one off," he said, "That is, if this one foot can stand the weight."
Sue balanced herself on her injured leg and was gratified that there was no pain. Quickly Rod removed her other ski boot, and Sue suddenly felt two inches smaller. "The sweater now," he ordered, and she pulled the sweater up over her head, knowing instinctively that Rod was staring at her breasts outlined beneath her tight white nylon body shirt. This instinctive knowledge brought a crimson blush to her face.
Rod expertly checked the deeper muscles of her calf and the back of her thigh. Sue winced when he hit one particular spot about mid-thigh. He nodded as if her reactions had confirmed his suspicions.
"Okay," he said, without preamble, "drop your pants."
"What?" Sue exclaimed, shocked.
"Come on, cousin. Don't be bashful. There's no way I can really tell how badly you're hurt until we see whether the flesh is bruised or if your tendon has popped. You're going to have to take your pants off."
"But Rod," she wailed in embarrassment. "I'm all right. Really, I feel fine."
"You do, eh?" he asked, and then pressed against her mid-thigh.
"Ouch! That hurts."
Rod didn't answer, the expression on his face was rebuke enough for her silly behavior.
Sue felt her face burning in shame. Ordinarily, she would have done what was requested of her, but this morning-when she had decided to wear the body shirt which fastened at her crotch with three snaps-she had put on the skimpiest pair of bikini panties in her suitcase. If she removed her ski pants, she would be-to all intents and purposes-practically naked down there. There really was no choice. "Oh, all right," she said, and before she could change her mind or think up further excuses, unzipped her ski pants. She peeled them down over her flaring hips and they fell to her knees, where the kneeling Rod supported her right leg while he removed her pants from her left foot. A moment later she was standing there-feeling foolish and a little something else... almost breathless-as Rod rolled the flesh above her ankle to check for sprains. She could feel the heat from the fireplace against her bare flesh and an errant thought, quickly suppressed, flashed across her mind: I wonder what it would be like to lie completely naked on that rug and feel the heat on my breasts and have Rod, completely naked, take me in his arms and... I mustn't think that, she thought sternly.
But when Rod's capable hands began kneading the flesh of her calf, she felt no pain-only pleasure, a warm deep-seated sensual pleasure, a portent of things to come-and the wicked thought returned.
CHAPTER NINE
Rod was amused at the little charade, the little game, they were playing with each other. He knew exactly what Sue was thinking, knew that she wanted to be fucked by him... just as he wanted to bury his already throbbing-with-life cock deep into her vibrant young pussy. That night eight years ago had been a one-time thing, something he had forgotten almost immediately. She had been uneducated in the ways of sex then, he had been the first. She had showed sensual promise, but that was all. It had been okay... just okay, compared to what some of the other broads before and after had been. Now, though, she was a little older and was more experienced. Too, she undeniably was a Morgan, and as a real Morgan she should be able to do sexual things that bordered on the incredible. He knew, because his grandfather, his father, and an uncle had told him (hat in all of the Morgans there (lowed a wild rampaging river of wantonness that was almost frightening in its strength.
Now, as his hot gaze crawled up her legs to her clearly visible protruding Mound of Venus hiding behind the thin material of the almost transparent body shirt, and her big taut tits, Rod discovered he was mentally kicking himself for letting this choice piece go unsampled for the last eight years, lie hadn't realized what a perfect figure she had, although he should have suspected it from the way she had been built at fifteen.
He did nothing to stem the growing heat of desire in his body. Indeed, he encouraged it, wanting to build it to a fever pitch where he would cum into her with all the power of a high-pressure fire hose... and it might very well take that to put out her fire.
But first, he thought, we have to play out this little game. "Tell me if this hurts?" he asked, knowing full well that there was absolutely nothing wrong with her except for a minor muscle pull which could be cured in ten minutes by a hydro-bath back at the chalet. He put both hands around the smooth bare flesh of her thigh and felt a thrill tingle up his arms at the warmth of her body. He squeezed.
Sue winced again and gasped. "Not as much as before, I think," she said, hardly able to formulate the words in her churning mind. His hands on her upper leg were causing all sorts of unwanted-but nonetheless delightful-sensations to ripple through her body. True, the pressure of his hands squeezing there had caused a momentary stab of pain, but it had gone away almost immediately with the release of pressure.
Rod deliberately moved his hands further up on her thigh, with his thumbs only an inch or so away from her crotch. He squeezed again, this time a little more gently. He watched and saw what he had been looking for-a fine sudden rising of her skin in goosebumps denoting excitement and desire. He squeezed again, gently, and used individual fingers to press in certain spots as though he were testing her musculature. His face was about twelve inches from the snaps in the crotch of her body shirt. He thought he could almost smell her willing femininity above the odor of wood smoke and kerosene. A slight tremor shook her body, and Rod knew that she was rapidly becoming aroused. The knowledge caused his prick to swell against the intolerable confines of his own tight ski pants.
The time had come to quit playing around and get down to the business at hand, but still he-sadistically and masochistically-continued the little game of first aid. "Now don't be alarmed," he said soothingly, "but there's one other thing I have to check, and I'm going to have to lift your shirt." He didn't give her a chance to protest, merely raised his hands and with one quick jerk caused the crotch of the body shirt to snap open. In doing so, his one finger deliberately dug into her panty-covered warm cuntal cleft.
Sue jumped as if she had been touched with an electric prod.
"Sorry," Rod said, without looking up at her.
Sue was all sensation now, as if that one magic touch had been like a high mountain lamasery gong, causing reverberations throughout the rarefied atmosphere of her lust-hungry, wanton soul. She was fighting the tremors that threatened to devastate her body. She couldn't -just couldn't!-reveal to her cousin that she wanted him inside her. She wished he would hurry and finish this damned examination. Maybe, if she put her pants back on, she would be able to control her emotions. Suddenly, though, she wanted to scream... to back away... to run away... for she knew instinctively that what he was doing now would cause her sternest resolve to melt as rapidly as a snow ball on a hot July pavement.
Rod had put both hands around her hips and, still kneeling with his face now only about nine inches away from her palpitating pussy, had begun kneading her buttocks through the sheer material of her red bikini nylon panties. "Tell me if this hurts," he said, and Sue had all she could do to keep from grabbing his head by the ears and yanking his face into the bubbling witch's cauldron of her cunt.
Rod, still without looking up at her, patiently repeated his question, "Does that hurt?"
Sue tried to speak, but her throat was so constricted by now that the words came out only as an inarticulate moan. Inside her mind a battle was raging. Part of her brain screamed out, "Tell him to fuck you!" and another part coldly and furiously shouted at her, "You wanton slut! You are married! Slap his face! Tell him to stop it! Stop it! You're a decent woman!"
Rod no longer felt like playing, and so he made his move. He looked up at her face and, at the same time, slipped his hands down between the bikini panties and the luscious white globes of her buttocks, causing the panties to slide down to mid-thigh. Then, as if he were lifting a sacrificial cup to his lips in some pagan ceremony older than time itself, he simply pulled her pussy toward him.
"No... no, Rod... you can't!" she gasped, and then, with the first touch of his hot hungry mouth against her cuntal lips, she closed her eyes and clenched her fists tightly, fighting the one-sided battle within her. "Please... don't... Rod, don't... don't."
The sweat of her exertions on the ski slope had brought a fine musk to her snatch, and Rod's tongue quivered at the opening-like a humming bird seeking the spout of a feeder. Then his tongue snaked forward...
"Ahhhhh... God!" It was a wanton scream of lust that came from a deeper part of her mind than had ever been called upon for comment or evaluation before. Almost viciously she grabbed the back of his head, and at the same time splayed her legs out in an effort to put more and more of her vagina into contact with that beautiful tongue and mouth.
Rod's tongue licked along the fur-lined pink cleft, and the honey that seeped from her snatch was beyond compare. He sensed she was going out of her mind; it was almost as if no one-at least recently-had ever gone down on her. Now he shoved his tongue-like a little red prick- down through the two layers of cuntal lips, and was rewarded by a scream of exaltation from her.
Sue's body was beginning to tremble uncontrollably; never before in her wildest dreams had she envisioned such delight, such exquisite pleasure, such wanton craving. She felt his tongue, quivering, driving, licking at her, then shrieked with abandonment again when his thumb and forefinger clasped her overly large clitoris and tweaked it.
Rod's amazement grew along with his prick. It was simply incredible! Everything he did to her-from touching her leg to gently nibbling on her clitoris-had driven her almost insane. She was really turned on! It was almost as if she had been given an overdose of the most powerful aphrodisiac imaginable. Her cunt was leaking lubricant like a squeezed wet sponge. She was ready for fucking now, and if she didn't get a fucking, she'd probably topple right over. Above it all, though, was the admiration he felt for her-she was fresh and relatively untouched. It was almost, in a way, like getting her cherry all over again. And suddenly, he knew without being told, that no one-absolutely no one-except her husband, had touched her within the last couple of years... and that she was innocent of all of the finer arts of fucking... and that, as a Morgan, she would be an apt pupil. She might even be, he thought with some amazement, even better at all of this than Jejune; it seemed impossible, hard to believe, but if her present reactions were any indication, her sexual needs-like some sleeping princess in a magic spell-were about to be awakened by a prince and a kiss. He shoved his tongue into her snatch as far as he could, and began pressing his middle finger against her tightly clenched, puckering little anus.
As that furious tongue continued to scour her cunt, Sue no longer attempted to shove his face into her femaledom. Now she hung onto it simply for support, as her rubbery knees were threatening to collapse under her. He was doing something wickedly delightful to her backside, as well. Her body simply could not handle these tactile sensations any longer. She was already climbing toward an orgasmic peak, a volcanic mountaintop shrouded by the super-heated steam clouds of desire. She soared upward toward them. Then-fighting against herself- panting for breath, heart pounding like some poor wild bird in an insufferable iron cage, she pulled her body away from him. She moved three steps backward and stood there, her proud breasts rising and falling as the terrifying tides of lust swept through her and sent powerful ground swells of wanton need surging into the already flooded estuaries of her body.
Rod had been pretty sure she was about to pull away. He had sensed her impending climax, and if she hadn't broken off contact, he would have. He didn't want her to cum-not yet. There were words he wanted to hear, things he wanted her to perform. Before he was through with her, she would be begging to be fucked- "begging" like some craven coward with neck exposed on the guillotine block, "begging" like some pitiful street whore going through first stages of heroin withdrawal and ready to do anything for a fix. He was going to fuck her, but it would be on his terms. He sensed she had already reached an irrevocable point of no return. Now, all she needed was one gentle nudge-one further bit of arousement-and she would be defenseless. Without saying anything further, Rod stood. He grinned in triumph as he saw her wide, almost frightened, eyes locked on the front of his ski pants. There, clearly outlined, was the elongated banana shape of his blood-engorged cock. His pants were so tight, his prick so large, that the coronal ridge of the bulbous head could be delineated. He dropped his right hand to the bulge and, without taking his eyes off her, squeezed it.
He was rewarded by a low moan coming involuntarily from her lips.
Sue was fighting a losing battle with herself, and she was smart enough to know it. Still, though, some last shard of decency demanded she make another effort to escape this trap. She saw her lime-green ski pants on the cocktail table behind him. Warily watching him now as he squeezed his bulging penis, she pulled up her panties and began to sidle over toward the table.
Rod, knowing what she was attempting to do, made one step sideways and blocked her. Then, casually, he unhooked his waistband and slowly... very slowly... he unzipped his trousers. He saw Sue's eyes widening even further, then saw her close her eyes as if that would remove the temptation. Smiling, he put his hands under the elastic band of his jockey shorts and pulled them down over his hips. His cock, like an angry lion in a Roman arena, leapt out looking for prey. It throbbed with a frightening vitality. It is, he thought with glee, the best hard-on I've had in months. The god-damned thing felt so tight, so brittle, that it seemed sure to shatter into a million little pieces if he tried to bend and replace it again in its jockey short cage.
Wordlessly, he stepped out of pants and undershorts, then quickly yanked off his polo shirt to stand, legs widespread, and hands on hips before her. The only thing he wore was the pair of thick ski socks that came up to mid-calf. When Sue opened her eyes again, she saw him standing just that way, with his mammoth throbbing penis sticking out of its pubic hair briar patch like some giant limbless tree stump. My God, she thought with dismay, it is so huge. No wonder it had hurt that first time. Subtly some change had come over her, and now she recognized it for what it was-resignation. She no longer cared to fight her own body's desires if, indeed, she was ever able to fight them. Her decency had gone. She was, for the first time in her life, about to commit an adulterous act. It was something expressively forbidden by the Bible; it was something she had never dreamed she would be capable of doing. Her shoulders slumped, she stood before him acquiescent, a love slave ready to do whatever was expected of her.
"Take off your clothes," Rod ordered, and discovered that his voice was hoarse, his throat constricted, as if the elevating of his heavy penis had drawn all tendons tight, even those in his neck.
Wordlessly, hands trembling so badly that she could hardly undo the buttons, Sue began at the top of the body shirt and worked her way down. When her shirt was unbuttoned and its crotch strap dangling in front of her like a ridiculously small apron, she looked up at him. He said nothing, so she completed the job... and knowing what he wanted, hunched her shoulders forward and unfastened her bra. Her harvest moon breasts were freed and she, too, was naked now except for her ski socks.
Rod could hardly contain himself as he saw the yellow firelight flickering on her big tits and volley-ball buttocks, changing them from alabaster white to a warm gold. Her strawberry-blonde fur patch was revealed in all its glory for the first time, and the little curling hairs looked as soft as swan's down. His prick jerked a couple of times of its own accord, as if it were urging him to action. He stared speculatively at her moistened lips, also reflecting the light, and her wide, expectant, jade-green eyes. Now was the time, he thought. Now!
"Come here," he said, and she walked forward like a zombie.
"Kneel, I'm about to knight you, baby," he said, and Sue once again did as she was instructed. Only her slightest, barely perceptible, hesitation had told him she knew what was going to come next and had already accepted it.
"Now open your mouth and close your eyes... and I'll give you something to make you wise," he chanted, remembering the old childhood poem.
Again that almost imperceptible pause, then she did as she was told.
Rod looked down at her half-open, supplicant mouth and then at his cock already oozing a viscidness from its glans opening. Slowly, very slowly, savoring each breathless split-second of anticipation, he pushed his throbbing white shaft closer and closer to her mouth. Then, as his huge purple head grazed her lips, he saw his cousin open her mouth even wider to receive it... and her tongue, like some welcoming committee, flicker out and brush with one swipe, the seeping precursor of love from the glans. It was only a shy, gentle little lick, but the touch of her hot tongue there caused a jolt of pure ecstatic pleasure to shoot through his loins.
"Oh, yes," he said under his breath. "Oh, yes... this is going to be very good indeed!"
Sue wanted him to tell her what to do, she wanted to hear his lewd, obscene words. The slightly saline taste of his penis was already acting like an aphrodisiac on her. She tried to remember what he had told her to do eight years ago, but the only instruction she could recall was his exhortation to suck on it. And so, she ovalled her lips, taking all of the bulbous throbbing head into her mouth, and began moving her head back and forth, all the while sucking gently.
"God damn, cousin, you must have been doing this for a living," Rod cried out, as his body responded eagerly to her ministrations.
Sue pulled her mouth away from his cock and looked up at him. She shook her head and said seriously, "No. You're the only one."
"Ah, come on now. You mean you haven't blown your husband?"
"No." And then she added, wanting him to believe her, "It's the truth."
"For Pete's sake, why not? Didn't you feel the urge?"
"I didn't think he'd understand... "
"You ass! And I suppose he hasn't gone down on you and eaten your pussy as I did just now and eight years ago."
"You are the only one."
Rod actually felt sorry for her now, and he knew some of his pity must show on his face. His voice was tender when he said, "You've missed so much."
Sue was honest; she said what she felt, "Yes. I have. When you were licking me, I thought I would die of happiness. And I feel I want to repay you."
"You don't mind sucking my cock?" The pity had gone now, replaced once again by a growing excitement-fanned by the salacious conversation, the sight of her on her knees before the fireplace, just humbly and gratefully waiting for his cock.
Sue sought to put her feelings into words. She had been terribly aroused by his lewd words. Her loins were afire with a blaze hotter than that in the fireplace. How to explain the taste, the feeling of his warm, throbbing penis in her mouth, the wicked excitement that the perverted act caused to well up inside her. She forced herself to be absolutely honest for, after all, she was the pupil and he the master who would teach her what she wanted to know. "I don't mind sucking your... cock. It is a part of you. A very dear part. Just like your ears, your lips, your nose... an integral part of you."
"Then suck, cousin, suck!" Rod's last word was almost a shout as she reached up behind him and clasped his buttocks in her hands. She opened her mouth to receive the prick which looked like a mammoth breadstick as it began moving in and out between her lips.
He noticed, with some wry amusement, that her lipstick had left a red ring around the mid-part of his prick's trunk. At first, her mouth moved silently back and forth on that white shaft of muscle and blood-hardened gristle; but then she began making loud sucking noises as Rod shoved it further and further into her throat, seeking ever deeper penetration into that warm, saliva-filled, wonderful cavity. He could feel it all: her hot, panting breath against his belly; her teeth, sometimes painfully scraping the sensitive underside of his cock; her lips, warm and incredibly soft; the back of her throat where the tonsil dipped like some obeisant cervix to greet the bulging head of his prick. Her fingernails had long since made deep indentations into the cheeks of his bare ass, and he felt a surge of pure masochistic pleasure at the pain she was unknowingly inflicting on him.
Gradually the pressure was building up in his testicles. Already the semen was surging restlessly back and forth, like water just before it comes to a boil. He wanted to cum in her mouth. He wanted to hear her gag and choke as the white-hot molten seminal stream erupted into her mouth. He wanted to see the overflowing cum dripping from the corners of her jism-filled mouth. He wanted all of these things, but he wanted one thing more! He wanted to fuck her! He waited until the last possible moment, waited until his throbbing prick had already begun to painfully swell just prior to ejaculation. Then... he pulled his cock reluctantly from her mouth.
Sue had felt what she suspected was the buildup to his orgasm. She welcomed it, remembering the one other time he had cum in her mouth. This time, though, she knew what to expect, and she planned to keep her lips tightly fastened to the fleshy shaft. She found herself joyfully anticipating his hot, pent-up release, and to communicate her intense feelings about it, she began sucking harder and using her tongue to tease the head. She swirled her tongue around and around it-and could feel it swelling in her mouth. He was almost there now, some inherited instinct told her that. Then, without warning, he had pulled it away. He had taken her prize, her toy, from her. It wasn't fair. It wasn't! She saw the cock, throbbing in front of her only inches away, and she leaned eagerly forward to capture it again.
Rod put his hands on her head and gently lifted her face. "Enough," he said, with far more tenderness than he felt.
Sue surprised herself by her own boldness. "I want you to cum," she said.
"Later. I want something else far more right at the moment."
"What's that?"
"I want to fuck you."
Sue wrapped her arms around his knees and laid her head against his hairy thighs. "Yes... yes, I want it too. Fuck me."
Now that it had been said, Rod wanted it to begin. He knelt beside her and gently pushed her back until she was lying full length on the rug in front of the fireplace.
Sue felt her legs being separated and saw him kneeling over her. Her eyes trailed along his hairy chest and flat muscle-rippled stomach to the mammoth cock-shining with a silvery sheen from her saliva. At this angle, it looked like the white inner cardboard core on which paper towels are wound. It looked fully as wide, as long. And she began to feel apprehension, mixed with a rather fatalistic and horrible anticipation. It looked large enough to rip her apart, but she had taken it as a virgin, and she certainly could take it now. For a brief moment, a flash of shame at what she was about to do illuminated the deeper recesses of her mind, but the desire-that intolerable, heated desire- was all-consuming and the black clouds of wantonness closed in again. She needed release; she had to have release or she would die! "Fuck me!" she cried in all sincerity, not caring what he thought of her any longer, not caring about him either, only that beautiful elongated pleasure stick which would replace her misery with happiness.
Her hand reached down between their two bodies and fastened itself on the thick shaft. She began yanking impatiently on it, seeking to bring it into heated contact with her love-starved vagina.
Rod grinned down at her, pleased at her heat. "You're a real Morgan all right," he said huskily, "and when you get my cock shoved up into your hot little pussy, you'll go positively apeshit."
His lewd words only excited her further. "Do it now... don't talk about it. Do it!" The last was almost shouted, and she tightened her grip on his cock to the point where he groaned in pain.
"Put it in," he ordered, and lowered his hips between her outspread thighs.
The rigidity of his penis against her sensitive cuntal lips bewildered her at first. It was like some thick blunt instrument of destruction, a crowbar to pry her cunt right out of her body.
She groaned in ecstatic pleasure as she rubbed the hardened shaft and its bulbous head up and down the entire sensitive length of her quivering vulva. Its contact was electrifying, and it resulted in a near explosion of unbearable lust in her pelvis. She punched up to meet it, and felt the head penetrate the first layer of her ruby-pink, passion-drenched, pussy lips. She shivered uncontrollably and found her knees rising of their own volition, seeking to further open those already well-lubricated gates to her femaledom.
Rod was amazed at how hot she was. Christ, he thought, I've had nymphos before that didn't want it as much as she does. But then his thoughts were cut off as she dug her fingernails painfully into his tender testicles. "Do it," she repeated, her mouth hanging laxly open in one of the most wanton portraits of lust he had ever witnessed.
"All right," he said, feeling a sudden wave of almost barbaric cruelty sweep over him. He pushed forward and the Cyclopean giant forced its way into her tight, quivering little opening.
"Agghh," she moaned, feeling herself being stretched to the point of ripping. She splayed her knees out even further, until her taut inner thigh muscles looked like flesh-covered steel cables under intolerable pressure.
Rod felt her cuntal lips part under the probing of his cock, felt the first slippery entrance through her outer layer of vulva. She was almost as tight as she had been the first time, he thought; her husband must have a pencil for a prick, or else he doesn't use it very often. He heard Sue's low groan of pain as her cunt stretched far beyond its normal capacity. The sound pleased him. He wanted to hear her cry out. Now was the time. Now! He flexed all his muscles and then with the war cry of a Viking plunderer driving his sword into an enemy's soft belly, he yelled, "Hahhhh!" and ruthlessly and brutally rammed his cock down into the depths of her pussy.
"Aaaaaggggghhhhh," she screamed, "you're killing... mmmmeeeeeeee!" Sue realized she was being impaled, torn apart, split asunder into a million little pieces and like Humpty Dumpty never again to be put back together. The pain was monumental, more excruciating than it had been the first time. "Aaaagghhhh," she yelled again, "Stop. Stop... oh, God. Stop!" She pushed against his chest, but to no avail, as the relentless plunge into the very heart of her womb plummeted past her inner blood-filled sensitive lips and swept disdainfully on past her cervix. She had never been so stretched. Part of her mind shrieked at her that she could give birth to a sixteen-pound baby with less pain than this.
Rod felt the tight resistance to his entrance melting before the onslaught of his fleshy battering ram. Down, down, down, he drove, and gave forth another Viking yell as he felt his lust-tightened balls slam up against her puckering little asshole. He and his horsecock were into her all the way, much further than anyone had ever been before. That knowledge pleased him, and with the pleasure some of the blood lust left him. He flexed his cock and heard her moan.
"Don't move it, please!" Sue pleaded, knowing that pain had caused tears to form in her eyes. God, she hurt! She could feel that big penis inside of her as though some clenched fist with wrist and arm attached had been shoved up in there. She could feel every corrugated millimeter of that monstrous cock, and she wondered dully how she could have ever been stupid enough to want something as painful as this inside of her. His prick leapt again inside her, further stretching her already overexpanded vaginal walls. "Don't move," she asked again, and then knew her pitiful request for relief was hopeless, for Rod was cruelly smirking down at her. He flexed his prick again, but this time there was a slight difference. Once more he made that giant white throbbing cudgel jump inside of her, and Sue realized that her tortured passageway was rapidly becoming adjusted to the invader.
Without warning, Rod began fucking into her. He rode high on her, scraping his cock against her clitoris; he rode low on her, punching his prick deeper, ever deeper into her womb. He rotated his hips, scraping her vaginal walls with the hearty ridges of gristle. Pain fled as though it were fog being chased away by fresh breezes and a hot sun. As he stroked into her with long smooth thrusts, she found herself beginning to respond. It was an involuntary thing, something she had no control over at all. Her cunt seemingly had taken charge of her body, because she felt her lower abdominal muscles begin to ripple.
"Ohhhhh," it was a gasp of genuine pleasure from Rod. Good God, he thought, nothing has felt like that since the Algerian belly dancer. Sue's pussy had become a velvet-lined conveyor belt attempting to pull him deeper into her. It was just too god-damned wonderful to be true. Donna was fantastic in bed when she had been sufficiently aroused, but even at her best she didn't have a twenty-one-jewel, ball-bearing movement like this. As for Jejune! She was just a good lay and a good sport, willing to do almost anything to please man, woman, or beast. What surprised him most of all, however, was the fact that Sue was completely uneducated in these matters. She was doing this automatically. She was, indeed, a genuine fucking Morgan! With a little instruction, she would just have to be the hottest, most fuckable piece of ass in the whole lousy universe.
Sue had discovered, quite by accident, that she could control her own body's feelings down there. She could add pleasure, add heat, add friction, or lessen any of these. Simply by dipping her pelvis she found she could scrape her clitoris against the hard shaft that bored into her like a white-hot drill; by rising at the right moment, she could deepen his thrusts even further than he could unaided; by flexing her inner thigh and gluteus, she could tighten her pussy ring around his maledom, which would bring a delighted moan from him. As he fucked into her, she experimented by raising her knees up until they were practically under his armpits; his cock went in so far in this position that she thought surely he was pounding the dent out of her navel.
But then, all of this newfound knowledge fled her, because as that hard long prick smashed like a piledriver into her, she began to feel a familiar tingling in her abdomen. She really didn't believe she could be having a climax so soon, but moments later there was no denying the message her pussy was joyfully shouting to her. Her breath deepened of its own accord, and she could feel the blood rushing as though from a broken dam into her straining muscles down there. The tingling deepened, widened, and became a hollow trough that rapidly built up until it was a seismic wave of ecstasy.
"I'm cumming," she whispered. That pounding continued.
"I'm cumming," she said loudly. His cock moved in and out, in and out, scraping-ever scraping-against the swelling clitoris and the expanding vaginal walls.
"I AM CUMMING... " she screamed, and then added, "Ah... ahhhhh... Oh, God... don't stop... Don't ever stop. DON'T STOP!" She reached for the adulterous orgasm, and the forbidden fruit easily came away from the tree of delight.
Her legs fastened themselves like flesh-colored handcuffs around his hips, and she used her heels like spurs against the back of his thighs to urge him on. Unknowingly, her fingernails had embedded themselves so deeply into his buttocks that skin had been punctured and he was bleeding. She pumped her clasping pussy like a hot hungry mouth on his white shaft, seeking every bit of him. And then, as her orgasm grew-expanded-a birdlike cry of helplessness bubbled from her throat, to be followed immediately by the shrill cry of a banshee, "Aiiiieeeeee," and she stiffened like a Limbo dancer about to go under the low bar.
Her motionless state lasted almost five seconds, and during it Rod continued to mercilessly pound into her defenseless snatch with a heated fury and urgency he had not experienced in years. My God, he thought, as he screwed into the stiffened, supine body of his cousin, she is incredible, unbelievable. Then abruptly, he was forced to ride her, to hold on for dear life, as she exploded beneath him like an enraged, unbroken wild horse feeling the saddle for the first time. Her legs unfastened themselves from his hips and her knees began opening and closing like a powerful accordion-against his ribs. She reached up and, with the strength of a maniac, wrapped her arm around his neck and drew his mouth down to her. Her short, uneven gasps of hot slobbering breath became even more broken as she sought to ram her tongue down his throat.
Now she was sucking his tongue while her pussy, like some incredibly soft vacuum cleaner, was milking at his prick. Rod felt the vaginal walls suddenly secrete a warmness all around his cock and then there was less friction encountered down there. The warm viscosity clung to his shaft, and on each backstroke some of it was deposited at the lower part of her cunt, where it oozed like silver honey down to her anus.
"Fuck, oh, fuck me. Fuck me... fuck me... " Sue chanted incoherently, pumping her body up and down on that joystick, and seeking to bring back the fading glory of her earlier orgasm. She was regaining some control of her body now, and with the control came shamed thoughts. "I'm no better than a street slut. A shameless adulteress. A whore. A... a... ahhhhhhh," and abruptly, she was cumming once more.
Rod grunted and began hammering deeper, ever deeper into her as he felt her body stiffen a second time.
"Aaaaiiiiieeeeee," she screamed again, and it was a cry of sheer exaltation, a priestess atop a mountaintop who had just communicated with the gods and now shouts out the sacred message. This time, however, in spite of her body automatically taking over and convulsing, she was able to retain some control over her mind. Mentally she stood back, wondering about it, wondering what made this fuck better than any other she had ever had, wondering about the second orgasm and the possibility of a third. She knew she had to work at control, that with control this unbelievable pleasure might be intensified and prolonged. This time she regained control of her body sooner and deliberately began working her clitoris against his prick. Seconds later that ganglion of sensitive nerve endings simply shorted out, bringing on still another orgasm.
Rod felt her cumming time after time under him and found it nearly impossible to control her wild abandoned writhings. At times, in the midst of a climax, her face would contort in an unbelievable grimace of pure lust. Twice she had raised her pelvis and his body a good eighteen inches up off the floor and rotated her ass as though it were some well-oiled camshaft or cake mixer. Her pussy puckered and unpuckered like a feeding fish as it sought to devour his entire length. Finally he sensed that the continuing orgasm was weakening her, and a moment later he knew he had been right, for Sue fell back to the floor, with her eyes rolled up high in her head. She was almost unconscious; he had fucked her into near insensibility. And that was all he had wanted to do. The deed was done and he was well satisfied with it. He began more deliberate movements now, pounding into her in an effort to bring about his own release.
He could feel the pressure building up in his scrotum; it grew and grew and grew as his prick drove in and out of the unmoving body beneath him. Then he was there. He bent down and shoved his tongue into her wide open unresponsive mouth as he felt the cosmic explosion, like a supernova, in his balls. He groaned as the first of the powerful spurts shot out of his prick like a cannonball to splatter on the far walls of her womb.
He came. His ejaculatory spurts spewed the inside of her vagina and uterus, and her pussy was filled beyond capacity with it. She was so full that the spurts of jism came out from between her cuntal lips even though they were stoppered by his cock, and he could actually feel it splattering on his thighs. Best of all, although she obviously was nearly unconscious, her vagina still continued to work, and it milked and sucked at his swollen prick, squeezing and unsqueezing with each life-giving spurt he spewed into her.
Rod fell down on top of her as his continuing orgasm flooded her sexual grotto. He let the incredibly wonderful waves of pleasure sweep over him, and for a moment he thought he, too, was about to lapse into unconsciousness as he felt her velvet inner muscles paying homage to his maledom...
CHAPTER TEN
Rod and Sue were in the cabin almost three hours, and by that time the logs in the fireplace had dwindled until only a large pile of glowing coals and ashes remained. They made love two more times, once with Sue on her hands and knees while he entered her "(log fashion." She had been fucked this way by her husband and it had been delightful, but with Rod's horsecock it went beyond delight into the realm of pure ecstasy. And the third time, seated on a small milk stool, he had entered her while she sat on his lap.
They came blinking out of the cabin into the blinding glare of the snow. Rod looked up at the thin cloud cover and the high altitude streamers like contrails. One eyebrow arched, and his lips pursed as he commented, "We're in for a bit of weather tonight-snow, wind."
Sue's glance followed his gaze. The sky really didn't look any different to her than it had this morning, a little grayer, perhaps, but no real change. She accepted his word for it, however. Frankly, she couldn't care less about the weather. Now that the lovemaking had broken off, she realized her poor overworked vagina was very sore indeed. It wasn't painful, but she did feel discomfort. Then she grinned. It had been worth it! In two hours of skiing, Rod had taught her twice as much as she had ever learned from anyone else before. In three hours of fucking, he had taught her more than her husband had in almost three years of intimacy. And, in that final hour, she felt that just maybe she had taught Rod a little something in return. He seemed actually in awe of her at times, and that pleased her. There was a new-found strength in her; she didn't know just exactly how strong she was, but she would find out, and the discovery process would be extremely pleasurable. Rod buckled the skis to her boots, and a moment later they were swooshing downhill again. They made deeper traverses this time, going faster across the face of the hill. Sue's bumbling snowplow turns gradually became less awkward, and they no longer had to stop for her to change directions.
They reached the chalet within thirty minutes of leaving the cabin. Only then did Sue begin to worry. She was positive her infidelity showed on her face. What would Donna think? As far as that was concerned, what could she tell John? And abruptly, she realized she wasn't going to say a damned thing or admit a damned thing to anyone. She would brazen it out! Unbuckling her skis, she followed Rod's lead and put them over one shoulder and began carrying them up the stairs to the front porch of the chalet. It was only then that she felt the sudden little stab of pain again in the back of her thigh. "Ohhhhh," she inhaled, biting her lip.
"What's wrong?" Rod asked, then immediately answered his own question. "Your leg, eh?"
Sue nodded.
"It's only a muscle strain. We'll put you in the hydro-bath and let Jejune massage it; she's better than most pros at working out a pulled muscle." His reassurance was comforting.
They were locking the skis into their racks when Donna opened the door. For a split second there was a look of anger on her face, then it was replaced by a noncommittal expression. "Oh, there you two are. We were beginning to get worried about you. Another ten minutes and we would have started a search. Everything okay?"
Rod kissed his wife and put his arm around her. "A little accident. Not bad. A pulled hamstring when she fell. We stopped off at the lower cabin until Sue felt like trying it again. I was planning to come down for the Snow-cat, but she thought she could make it. Brave girl... she did." His voice sounded absolutely truthful, sincere, as if he had just returned from church and a full confession.
Donna merely glanced at Sue and nodded. "I hope you feel better." There was no hint of sarcasm or accusation in her voice, but Sue sensed the woman knew exactly what had happened in the cabin and saw through their story.
"She'll be out there again tomorrow, as good as new," Rod said, then glanced over his shoulder, "that is if this thing moving in right now doesn't louse up the skiing for a few days. What's the afternoon forecast?" he asked Donna.
"Snow. Tonight and tomorrow. Fifty-mile-an-hour winds and a low of five."
"So long, skiing... at least for three days." He shrugged. "Oh, well, thank God we've got enough booze in the house." Then he turned to Sue. "Come on," he ordered. "It's the hydro-bath for you. Then we'll let Jejune pound the hell out of you."
The hydro-bath was a large circular pool ten feet in circumference and about four feet deep. A wide cement ledge about a foot from the bottom served as a bench upon which one sat, neck deep in water, while the powerful jets forced the heated water to swirl around the body. It was great for relieving muscle aches and pains, although in this household it was used mainly for revitalization purposes when the frequent morning hangovers made life unbearable.
Rod disappeared toward the bar, and Donna led the way toward the sauna and hydro-bath. The two women walked silently, with neither inclined to conversation. Sue was so weary from skiing and fucking that she was ready to drop. All she wanted to do right now was soak in a hot tub and then take a nap.
Donna showed her to the dressing room and then threw the switch on the hydro-bath. There was a buzzing noise and the sound of swirling water. "Thirty minutes in here, about fifteen in the sauna... unless you're used to a sauna."
"No... I've never been in one," Sue confessed, feeling a guilt building up inside of her because of what she had done with this woman's husband. She desperately wanted to be friends with the aloof Donna, but there was no softening in that neuter composure of her cousin's wife.
"If you need anything, just press the button, I'll come," Donna said, and then Sue was left alone. Wearily, she stripped off her clothes and then gingerly put one foot into the hydro-bath. "Boy, that's scalding," she said, involuntarily, and quickly drew her foot back. She replaced her foot in the water and this time it seemed not quite as hot. Even so, it took almost three minutes of acclimatization before she was fully submerged. Right from the beginning, Sue had been struck by the sensualness of the swirling waters. Now, as she sat down on the cement bench with the powerful jets of water foaming between her legs, she felt a rebirth of excitement. Those streams were strong enough to tug at the fleshy folds of her weary vagina; it felt as if someone with incredibly warm and soft hands were playing with her, parting her cuntal lips, licking her cunt. And the effect upon her breasts was almost immediately catastrophic. Migawd, she thought with a sudden awareness, I could actually reach a climax this way. All I'd have to do is simply spread... out... my knees, and press against this one... jet... A feeling of almost unbelievable sensuality swept through her pussy as she adjusted her position to get full benefit of the water. She closed her eyes and lay, with head back on the decking, feeling her cunt respond to the watery prick with sexual alacrity that was almost frightening.
"Feel better?" The female voice came from right above her head.
"Oh!" Sue exclaimed and jerked in frightened embarrassment. "Jejune! You scared me. I was half asleep," she lied, and felt her face flushing.
Jejune smiled down at her; there was a secret shared knowledge in that smile, almost as if she knew exactly what had happened at the cabin and what Sue had been doing seconds before. "I understand we've got a pulled muscle to deal with. Well, that should be easy enough to fix once we get you relaxed. And we will relax you... " As she spoke, she began untying the belt around her flowered kimono. She turned her back to Sue and then dropped the robe.
Sue's eyes widened when she saw Jejune was wearing absolutely nothing under the garment. For a second, an acute sense of embarrassment swept through her as she stared at her cousin's muscular, but perfectly feminine little buttocks, then she mentally chided herself for her lack of sophistication.
Jejune turned around and stood, just as Rod had stood earlier, with feet apart and hands on hips. Sue gazed up at her figure. She had hard, taut little breasts about the size of autumn apples. They were beautiful. Her belly was flat, and there was no sagging of muscles anywhere. Her pubic hair was gone-shaved-with only a very pale whiteness to indicate where it ordinarily grew. With her legs apart, as they were, Sue could see the pouting lips of her cunt. She swallowed and then said what she felt, "You have a beautiful body, Jejune."
"And so do you, cousin. Your breasts are like the melons of the Orient as described by the poet Omar. I have not seen the rest of you uncovered yet, but I know it is just as beautiful as your face, your lovely lips, your kissable shoulders... " It was almost as though a man were speaking to her, Sue thought, and then realized she was pleased by the older woman's words of praise.
Jejune quickly stepped into the pool; she obviously was used to the heat of the water. She came over beside Sue and then sat down. "Which leg is it?" she asked.
"This one," Sue said, patting the thigh next to Jejune.
"You must work it to get the heat into the muscles. I'll help you." With this, the older woman put her hands on Sue's thighs and pulled them apart. The water jet began hitting her sensitive cuntal lips again. Jejune worked the legs back and forth-open and shut-several times. She was becoming all too aware of the effect on her body of Jejune's hands and the surging water. There was a slow building sexual excitement that was reflected by the erect nipples of her breasts. Passion-dulled, she wondered if Jejune was doing all of this on purpose, if her cousin was deliberately arousing her for reasons she could not fathom.
"Now, I want you to stand, bending over slightly to pull the muscles taut. Bend your knees a little," Jejune ordered.
Sue did as she was instructed and a jolt of forbidden pleasure hit her as she felt the jet stream from behind raging against her anus and the stream in front playfully tugging at breasts and cuntal lips. It was a gentle watery cock- front and back; the hot breath of an insatiable male, an unfolding-a penetration-almost a liquid fucking.
Now Jejune was attempting to wrap both hands around the injured thigh, but her slender fingers did not meet. None the less, she kneaded the flesh with a strength her petite figure denied.
"Stand completely upright," Jejune ordered.
Sue did so and her breasts slowly rose like twin golden suns from the silvery sea. She heard the command, "Spread your legs a bit;" and she complied, feeling again the erotic tugging of the heated, swirling water against her pussy.
Jejune's violet eyes were now smoky and her nostrils, gently dilating with each breath, betrayed something of what she was feeling as she gazed at Sue's breasts. Sue waited, knowing instinctively that an unparalleled event in her life was about to transpire. She could fight it, or she could accept it. She remembered the kiss Jejune had given her when she was still a child of twelve. She no longer thought of it as a "strange kiss"; it was an exciting kiss... from the soul! "The water has done this to me," she said to herself. "The water. It is carrying me, like some fallen leaf, toward some unknown ocean."
Jejune's hard little body moved through the water until she was standing directly in front of the younger girl. They were so close that their breasts were almost touching. Then, without warning, Jejune simply bent forward and, with mouth in a very small oval, placed her gentle lips on Sue's erect left nipple.
Sue closed her eyes and shuddered-not in fear, not in revulsion... merely in pleasure.
"Come on," Jejune said, smiling in triumph now, "Let's go into the sauna."
Sue watched as Jejune's dripping figure climbed up out of the hydro-bath. When the older woman got to the top, she turned and beckoned with a curt nod of the head. "Come along, cousin."
Sue swallowed painfully. She knew what was going to happen-well, maybe she didn't know exactly what was going to transpire, but she knew it would be a perverted, forbidden act. Was she so shamelessly aroused that she could no longer fight off the approach of a lesbian? Had her morals deserted her so completely that she would willingly permit this to happen to her? What had occurred this afternoon was unforgivable, but what she was about to permit to be done to her now was a sickness, a wickedness, a transgression of all ethics and morality. Even with these thoughts flooding her mind, Sue found herself woodenly climbing the steps to stand looking down at her tiny cousin.
Jejune took her hand as though Sue were some frightened child lost in the woods. "Come," she said softly, and led her to the sauna. She opened the door and the hot dry heat came out of the room as though someone had opened the gates to hell.
Sue docilely permitted Jejune to wrap a towel, turban-like, around her head, and when her cousin reached up to pin it in front her taut little breasts came into contact with Sue's sensitive mammaries. Sue reacted, not by drawing back as if stung by a scorpion, but with one sideways, almost imperceptible, motion of her left shoulder which scraped tit against tit. Jejune smiled. "You are so beautiful," she said, and then pulled Sue into the sauna and closed the door behind them.
Sue found the heat not really as oppressive as she had first believed. She sat where Jejune indicated, on the hickory bench. It was hot-very not-against her buttocks, but that was all right. The pain, oddly enough, brought pleasure to her.
"Lie down, cousin," Jejune said, and placed a folded towel on the bench to be used as a pillow.
Sue knew that if she followed these instructions all was lost forever. No longer was there any pretense between either woman as to first aid or care of an injured leg. This was the beginning of a completely amoral sexual act, Sue thought, and then-amazed at her own sinfulness-lay back as directed, a part of her mind observing everything that went on. This knowledge would be useful in the future.
"I've waited twelve years for this. I wanted you so much then. But you've retained your bloom. You're a true Morgan, darling. Twelve long years... I should have had you then."
Abruptly, Sue's heart began hammering like a runaway steam engine. She swallowed. "What... what do you mean?"
"Come on, you aren't that naive," Jejune answered, reaching out and softly touching Sue's erect nipple.
"No... " Sue tried to withdraw from that electrical contact. She felt as if she were hypnotized-a bird watching the approach of a snake.
"I don't know... "
"Very well, lover. Lie there... and let me lead you into an area of delight you never knew existed before."
Sue's eyes were riveted on Jejune's face, as the other woman sat on the sauna bench, then-after adjusting her beach towel, Jejune lay out full-length next to her. There was a queasy feeling in the pit of Sue's stomach. A dull pounding of expectation which she recognized as sexual arousal. He buttocks were actually trembling. Jejune's eyes were aglow with an unholy fire; the orbs had grown to monstrous size, as her face -coming closer-blocked out the sight of the rafters. Sue felt the dry heat of Jejune's body press against her own; thigh was now against thigh, smooth belly against belly, cunt against cunt, breasts brushed against breasts-with the nipples like hot little brown buttons of delight.
"Now... I show... " Jejune said, and slowly took Sue's face in her hands. Sue felt Jejune's lips on her own. They were soft at first, and warm, and the saline taste of her perspiration was an elixir. The whole thing was done so gently that she really wasn't aware of the exact moment that Jejune's tongue shyly entered her mouth. She was having difficulty breathing, part of this caused by the knowledge that what she was doing was perverted. It was wicked, but this knowledge was shunted aside by a delicious feeling in her loins as her cunt began reverberating like a tight kettle drum.
Sue moaned and felt the last vestiges of resistance flow from her body. Without volition, her tongue began softly licking and sucking at the invading one. Jejune's tongue withdrew, and Sue's eagerly followed it into the other woman's warm mouth.
Jejune rolled one leg up over Sue's pouting Mound of Venus. The sensation was... was... sensational! Almost immediately, it brought smouldering coals to a white hot flame in her body... a flame that was fueled by the sudden awareness that Jejune's hands were moving knowledgeably up and down her back and spine, coming to rest occasionally like warm fluttering butterflies upon the overly sensitive buttocks.
Sue had given way to all of the fabulous sensations when the older girl abruptly drew back and separated their bodies. An overwhelming feeling of disappointment came over her; this was replaced by inexpressible joy as Jejune whispered, "I love you."
Jejune's voice betrayed her own growing excitement as she bent over and placed her hot lips on Sue's left breast.
"Oh... " It was a moan of sheer delight, coming as soon as Sue felt the tongue teasing the nipple and the gentle sucking of her lips on the breast itself. Gradually, Jejune's hands had changed from butterflies to doves and then to hawks as they sought their feathered prey. One hand was locked on the right breast, the fingers worked expertly at the nipple-capturing it, teasing it, now squeezing it, now releasing it- working in rhythm with the sucking of the left breast. Jejune's other hand had found Sue's palpitating cuntal lips. Her long middle finger slid imperiously up and down the entire crack; it teasingly avoided all contact with the clitoris, even though Sue was undulating her pelvis by this time. Jejune's fingers remained on the surface, not seeking to penetrate beyond the vulva. As the crack became more lubricated from Sue's artesian love juices, however, Jejune's finger slipped further and further back until it began gently nudging the quivering brown little anal ring. Here, it stopped for a moment, then began an unrelenting pressure to push into this new orifice. Wave after wave of forbidden pleasure roared through Sue's body. Now, though, it was hurting. She tried to raise her hips to get away from the uncomfortable pressure, but Jejune's finger was moistened enough from the seeping cunt juices so that the first joint penetrated into that hot twitching little cavity. "Ah... ahhhh, that hurts," Sue said, not really believing her own statement.
In answer to this protest, Jejune merely sank her teeth into the soft flesh of the tit and now seemingly was trying to swallow the whole thing. It was painful, but a beautiful, blissful pain on the threshold of ecstasy. The finger in the asshole now began to move gently back and forth in an effort to gain more depth. Slowly it rode inward. Sue's anus had so tightly captured the joint that each movement caused the puckered muscular ring to move with it. Sue moaned low in her throat; the original painful sensation had changed into something else... something alien, something darkly exciting. Now, she felt the deeper muscles of her ass flexing and unflexing in an effort to pull the finger in further. She was trembling. She was building toward a climax. It wasn't possible, she thought, that she could feel this way from a woman. Her body rapidly climbed toward the exalted peak. She wanted the finger further up her ass; she wanted something shoved deep in her cunt... something hard, long, vibrating! She was there... almost there...
Then... Jejune withdrew finger, mouth, hands, and moved away to sit upright with a smile of victory on her face.
"Oh, no!" Sue's cry was a lament. She made an effort to rise, with a plea for release on her lips, but Jejune's firm hand pushed her back onto the hickory bench.
"Now, lover, you'll see what it's all about," Jejune crooned as she slithered down until she was in a half-crouching position opposite Sue's hips. Her voice was guttural when she simply said, "You really have the most beautiful little clit I've ever seen. You'll die with joy when I kiss and bite it." Jejune had become a paragon of gentleness again. Her soft hot lips kissed Sue's belly. Her tongue traced a pattern of eroticism across the abdomen. Once, the tongue paused in its journey to seek out the navel. It licked the hip bones. Sue moaned continuously as she tried to twist her pelvis so that her fevered, starving cunt would make contact with that soft fiery sword heading in its direction. Jejune, however, was choosing another path in the journey toward the promised land. Her cousin's hands were busy; then slowly they separated Sue's thighs to reveal the seeping pussy in all its glory. Her clitoris seemed to be vibrating like a struck gong, and the reverberations echoed throughout her body. Now Jejune's hungry mouth moved down her legs, and wave after wave, ripple after ripple of lustful pleasure moved with it. The outer part of Sue's upper thigh was licked, kissed and caressed; the outer right calf was kissed. The tongue left a trail of fire down the entire outer part of the leg. When it reached the soles of her feet, it began working its way up the smooth inside passageway leading toward the far-off cavern of her cunt.
Sue lay back, her body as straight and immobile as a railroad tie. She couldn't feel the heat from the bench. She felt nothing but lust until she abruptly became aware that her head was thrown back and her fingernails were embedded in her own forehead.
Jejune's educated lips swept up... up... up... toward that juicy ultimate goal. Little whimpering sounds of ecstasy fought their way out of Sue's constricted throat. Jejune's left hand tantalizingly slid along the alabaster inner thigh until it brushed the silken-haired nest. The touch of her cousin's hand on her vagina brought a birdlike cry of ecstasy bubbling from her throat. Nothing had ever felt as beautiful before. Then the hand was doing something! The thumb and forefinger were parting the lips... and then...
Sue simply screamed the first time the tongue flickered like hot summer lightning against her pussy. "Ah... God. Go on... Don't ever stop! Ah... " Jejune's tongue needed no urging or directions; it had a life of its own as it licked the crack like a thirsty dog lapping up water. Then the tongue penetrated down through two hot well-lubricated layers of vaginal lips. It brought a low moan of delicious delight from Sue. It began moving back and forth as though it were a short, throbbing, vibrant prick. There was more to come, though, for even as Jejune drove her tongue up and down into the cuntal canyons, her fingers were ever so gently massaging the clitoris. Then tentatively, one finger of the other hand returned to the anus and sought entry. Surprisingly, it slid all the way to the second joint before Sue even knew it was in there. Then Jejune began moving the finger in a sideways motion in an effort to enlarge the opening. A moment later, her finger was all the way up the knuckle of the closed fist. The finger made wild circles, and then it was joined by a second finger seeking entrance.
"God... oh... hurt me. Hurt me!" The scream came from the furthermost reaches of Sue's soul, and then-without warning-everything suddenly began collapsing about her. She was tumbling-end over end--through space, falling toward a hot boiling sun of sensation. There were comets here, and flaming meteorites -all madly rushing toward the center of that universe-her pussy! Sue became aware that she was screaming exaltations to her own body, as though she were a witch presiding over the boiling cauldron of her cuntal sensations. Her hands had cruelly grasped Jejune's head and was actually banging it up against the crotch as if she were trying to shove in tongue, nose face, head and all into that maelstrom of hot creamy liquid that actually spurted out of her cunt. Her legs and feet beat a tattoo on the hickory bench, and her pelvis undulated like a pile driver careening out of control. She was cumming. She came. She continued to cum... and cum... and cum! It would never end. And her voice screaming out the words over and over again like some broken record player, "I'm cumming... I'm cumming... I'm cumming." She had at least a dozen orgasms before she finally lost all consciousness and fell back onto the bench.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Upstairs a bedroom battle was raging. Donna's sultry expression had changed to one of furious hate. "I suppose you deny that you and that... that... slut!... of a cousin of yours had sex?"
"I don't deny it," Rod said calmly. "Do you deny that my cousin Jejune and you...?" His words were shut off as Donna angrily threw the contents of her cocktail glass into his face.
Rod suddenly reared back and slapped her so hard that she fell onto the bed. She lay there, shoulders shaking, weeping disconsolately. "Oh God," she moaned, "what did I ever do to deserve being married into a family of incestuous, rutting animals like you Morgans?"
"I don't know," he replied coldly, "but this much is certain: it was a hell of a lucky day for you. I give you all the cock you need, and Jejune gives you all the love you need." He laughed sarcastically, "To top it all off, now you've got Sue."
"And what am I supposed to get from her?" Donna asked, still face down weeping on the bed and clenching and unclenching her fists in frustration.
Rod thought about it. Finally, in answering, his thoughtful tone of voice made his wife look up in surprise, "I'm really not sure. She has a greater capacity for sexual things than you, Jejune, or even myself." Then feeling shame for losing his temper with her, he knelt alongside his wife on the bed. "Look, sweets. I'm sorry I hit you. It was an automatic reflex. But I've told you before, don't throw things at me, and don't strike me." He lifted her long dark hair and kissed the nape of her neck.
Mollified somewhat at receiving attention, Donna sniffed a couple of times. Then her natural bitchiness took over. "How was she?"
Rod was silent for a moment, then said simply, "She's a Morgan."
"Oh, God!"
"Yes, and I'm afraid that now I've found her -or better yet, now that she's found me-I'm afraid that we're just going to have to get used to more occasional company."
"I suppose she's married to someone like that beast Kirk DeLapp?"
"Kirk does have his points."
"Yes, and they're all at the top of his head. He's turned into a flaming faggot during these last five years. Can't you understand that? A queer!" She shuddered in revulsion, as the leering face of the sadistic forty-five-year-old engineer came to mind.
"Yeh. I know. Jejune and I were discussing him. She's going to let him go soon."
"Thank God." Then angrily she looked up. "Do you and your cousin discuss everything? Will the two of you have a seminar when it comes time to get rid of me?"
Rod patted her shoulder reassuringly. "No, darling. We both love you. We both desire you. I'm afraid we're both hopelessly stuck on you... in spite of your being a bitch at times."
Donna sniffed again. She simply couldn't understand why she put up with such inhuman treatment. Here she was, a graduate of the best finishing school in the United States, a member of Mensa, the genius-high I.Q. organization, and all of the right social clubs, and with a figure that had been compared favorably with Raquel Welch. Why... why she could have almost any man she wanted. All she had to do was cock her little finger and they'd come crawling on bloody hands and knees just to kiss the hem of her gown. All except Rod! It was a familiar argument she was having with herself, and she already knew how it would turn out. She was a captive of the two Morgans-a love captive- and she would fight to the death if anyone tried to take her away from either Jejune or Rod.
Rod cupped her chin in his hand and turned her face toward him. "Now listen, sweet. We're going to keep Sue here for a few days. Get on the phone, call the Lodge, and tell her husband to come here. Ask him to bring along enough clothes for the both of them to last three days. I want them here during the storm." He glanced at his watch. "He should be down from the slopes by now. Call him now."
Now the anger had returned to her voice. "And I suppose I am to share my bed with him?"
"Not unless you so desire, my pet." He grinned maliciously. "After all, you haven't put out for Kirk except once or twice."
"And it will be a cold day in hell before I ever do again."
Rod laughed good-naturedly. "I'm leaving the evening completely in your hands. Menu, entertainment, topics of conversation. Everything."
"Everything?"
Rod stared at her speculatively for a moment and then warned, "No tricks."
"Not even a discussion on games people like us play?"
Rod pondered it a second, then a wide grin split his face, "Why not? It should be interesting."
"You know, of course, that Kirk will crucify her husband."
"Cent la guerre."
"Every man-woman-for himself?"
"Of course," he laughed, and then Donna's laughter had joined with his. Of the two, hers sounded the most diabolical. And, abruptly, Donna's good nature returned. It was, she thought, going to be an entertaining evening, and none of them would ever forget it... if she had her way.
John had presented absolutely no problems at all. In a way he was glad of the invitation, mainly because he knew if he stuck around the Lodge very long that he was bound to get into trouble. There was more loose and obviously willing pussy around the ski area than he ever would have believed possible. It was simply fantastic! And extremely dangerous, of course. It simply wouldn't do to have Sue discover him making the pitch to a palpitating little collegiate cunt.
He hadn't been quite sure of what to pack, but he finally struggled through and tossed in two of Sue's sexiest nightgowns, a handful of her underclothes, and another pair of ski pants. The woman Donna-God, she had sounded rich and sexy over the phone!-had told him there was no need to bring dress clothes as they all practically lived in ski outfits.
There had even been a uniformed chauffeur sent for him, which caused his eyebrows to raise in appreciation. When the Spanish driver, Manuel, pointed out the chalet standing atop the hill, with the lowering clouds scudding over it, John's lips had puckered in a soundless whistle. There was money in the family, no doubt about that.
As he stepped out of the car, a sudden gust of wind blew dry, icy particles into his face. He brushed his hand across his eyes. When he looked toward the chalet again, the breath went right out of his body, just as if someone had kicked him in the groin. For one gut-aching split second he was sure the woman standing there must be Raquel Welch, but then on closer inspection he realized his mistake. He saw her eyes widen in what seemed to be approval as he came up the steps. God, what a delectable piece of ass, he thought.
When she spoke, her voice sent tingles up and down the length of his spine, the sensation coming to rest in his suddenly tightening scrotum. "You must be John," she said huskily. "I'm Donna Morgan. Welcome." She held out her hand, and John discovered that she had a grip as strong as most males.
He tried not to make his inspection of her too obvious, but it was hard to make his eyes behave. Her breasts-easily as large and as firm as Sue's-were braless beneath a thin white nylon shirt. He could actually see the brown areolas of the nipples. The rest of her figure was barely hidden by the ski pants which were so tight that it showed the cleft of her ass.
Docilely, he followed her into the front room. Behind him he heard Manuel clattering upstairs with his luggage.
Four people were lounging in front of a fireplace that was easily eight feet high. All were drinking.
"Darling!" Sue called out and put her cocktail glass down and ran to meet him. She threw her arms about him with what seemed to him to be an extraordinary display of public affection. She kissed him warmly, and abruptly all of his sensitivities were telling him that something was wrong. There was a subtle difference about his wife. He couldn't quite make it out, but there definitely was something strange about her. Finally he decided it must be the fact that she was with relatives.
Sue introduced him to her cousin Rod. John liked him; he recognized the type-playboy, rich and pampered probably, but really likable once you get to know them and are accepted in their circle.
"And this is cousin Jejune," Sue said, pulling him over toward the intense little brunette, who shook hands with him and said, "I am very pleased to meet you, John. Sue has told me so much about you."
Her statement brought a snort of derision from the fat, balding, pot-bellied, cigar-smoking, middle-aged man standing next to her. John caught Rod and Jejune's sudden narrowing of eyes, as if in warning.
Sue acted as if she hadn't heard anything. "Kirk, this is my husband, John Bigelow. John... Kirk Delnapp, Jejune's husband."
John held out his hand, but Kirk merely nodded his head curtly and said, "Hi. Welcome to Peyton Place-West."
Donna stepped between them. "What will you have to drink, John?" She stood so close that her breasts were brushing his sweater.
John glanced around to see what the others were drinking. It looked like a mixed bag, he thought. "Any Scotch?"
"Of course," Donna purred. "Come on... with me."
He followed her across the room to a long mahogany bar, complete with about a dozen black padded leather bar stools. "Any favorite brand?" she asked.
He smiled at her, once again fighting to keep his eyes off those beguiling tits. "House brand is okay with me."
"Fine. Royal Salute-Chivas-twenty-one year-old malt Scotch. Anything with it?"
John shook his head. "It would be a sin to mix anything with that." He found his disobedient eyes had fallen again on her breasts. When he looked up, he found she was smiling in amusement, almost as if she were acknowledging his tribute to her mammaries, almost as if he and she were sharing some secret that no one else knew about.
Donna had tried for almost an hour to get everyone out of the front room and in to dinner. Kirk obviously was well on his way to a nasty drunk; Jejune had confided to her that his two little boy friends had committed a gross act of betrayal by allowing Kirk to perform fellatio on them and then they had taken off just as he was preparing to bugger them. Unhappily, they had departed with his wallet containing about three hundred dollars in cash. Jejune had thought it hilarious; Donna merely felt it was just what he deserved.
Even Rod was getting drunk, and that was unusual. Ordinarily he did a very good job of holding his liquor. Donna finally decided that the weather was making everyone drink more than was good for them. "Thank God," she said to herself, "for Maria's good nature. A lot of cooks would just walk off the job if they had to hold dinner for over an hour while the guests got smashed."
Even Donna was feeling the effects of her booze. It must have been that, she decided, or she wouldn't have jumped up on the long banquet table in front of the fireplace and yelled, "Addling! Dinner is served. And I mean now! The bar is closed."
"What's wrong with her?" Kirk snarled.
"I guess it's time to eat," Rod answered, and then held out his arm for Sue. "May I, cousin?" Sue dimpled, made a parody of a curtsy and almost fell on her face. The effects of prolonged love-making with Rod, the strenuous skiing, Jejune's little performance, were taking their toll of her equilibrium.
Donna finally got them seated in the dining room and dinner was served by a coldly polite Maria. Rod raised his eyebrows at Donna in sympathy. The Spanish cook would be surly for a day or two before returning to normal.
Midway through dinner, with four bottles of rare vintage wine already consumed, people, including Donna, simply stopped eating and began drinking. A sudden gust of wind caused a storm shutter to slam with the noise of a gunshot, but no one jumped.
They gabbed and chortled and laughed about everything. Donna abruptly became aware that both Rod and Kirk were talking much too loudly, that Sue seemed to be far too intently interested in what they were saying. A malicious grin crossed her face. Sue obviously was finding something disconcerting and Donna knew what was disturbing her: both Kirk and Rod had their hands out of sight. Sue was being finger-fucked. Jejune's eyes glowed across the table at her, carrying a warning. Donna really didn't care. To hell with them all, she thought. Her plans for the evening were rapidly going astray, but that, too, was all right because when it came time to strip the shaky facades from these hypocrites, it would be just that much easier. She knew she was drinking too much herself; that was the only excuse she could offer for what she did next. John's hand had tentatively brushed her knee. She merely grabbed it and pulled it into her crotch. She almost laughed at the amazed look on his face. Almost immediately he began rubbing his middle-finger against her cunt. She purred deep in her throat. And that was the way the next twenty minutes went-loud talk that fooled no one- hands under the table... hypocrisy and more alcohol.
Outside, as though a thousand demons were attempting to join the party, the wind shrieked and howled. The demons went unheard, even though they banged and pounded at shutters...
CHAPTER TWELVE
Donna was drunkenly amused. Once she had put her hand under the table and squeezed the area where she thought John's penis would be. She felt the hard bulge, and saw him sit upright as though someone had just stuck something up his ass. She brought her hand back up to her wine glass. A moment later, she decided to do it again. This time she laughed out loud when she discovered that in just those few seconds the sly rascal had unzipped his pants and taken his prick out of his shorts.
"What's so funny?" Rod asked across the table.
"Nothing, darling," Donna replied, and her hand, hidden by the tablecloth, stroked John's cock. Really, his expression was the most ludicrous she had ever seen. The second he began to look as if he were getting with it, she stopped.
Then her laughter bubbled out again, even louder this time, for John's face looked startled once more. That would be Jejune under there, Donna thought, and saw she was right, for the woman's left hand was out of sight.
Suddenly, the hypocrisy was more than Donna could stand. Now was the time to strip the facades from this bunch of drunks, she thought; now was the time for them to learn what misbegotten creatures they all were. With some sort of drunken logic she planned the event. It would outdo Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf in its viciousness. Oh, how they would suffer! Kirk and John were already snarling at each other; with a little prodding they both would turn on Rod and he would then see them for what they were. Opportunists. Bores. Not really socially acceptable!
As for Sue? Well, just look at her. Drunk. Slurring her syllables. Allowing herself to be fondled by two men at the same time. Slut! That's what his precious cousin was-a slut.
Yes, there would never be a better chance to expose them. Right now! Donna stood, and her heavy-backed chair toppled over with a crash. She paid no heed to it. "Attention, everyone. Attention, please."
No one paid much heed to her. Jejune and Rod were yelling across the table; Jejune's hand was still out of sight, although the movement of her arm showed she was still loyally pumping away on the prick.
"Attention... "
Sue and Kirk were talking loudly, striving to be heard above Rod and Jejune. Only John was silent. He sat there with a rather pleased expression on his face.
Donna picked up her wine glass and threw it across the room; it hit the wall with a splintering crash and the wine ran down like blood. "SHUT UP!" she screamed.
Silence, except for the wind which continued to shriek.
"That's better," Donna purred. "In view of the fact that I am in charge of the evening's entertainment and have been appointed group discussion leader, I now order you all into the living room."
Rod gazed at her speculatively. There was a glint of humor in his eye; it was matched by the amusement in Jejune's. Sue merely looked embarrassed at the unspeakably bad manners of the hostess.
"Who appointed you dictator?" Kirk growled.
"I did," Rod answered. "Go along with it. You might find it amusing."
"Enough conversation. Into the living room. Now!" Donna moved away from the table and weaved her way across the dining room. She hit the door, then staggered through it to the living room.
It was obvious, from the way they weaved, that everyone had taken far too much to drink. The liquor had long since ceased to be an antifreeze against the cold; now it was a stimulant to the physical system contrasting sharply with their impaired powers of reasoning. One by one they got up from the table; Sue had to be assisted by both Kirk and Rod.
"What the fuck we following her around like a flock of sheep?" Kirk demanded. "I ain't interested in no organized fun and games. I got ideas of my own," he said, drunkenly draining the last of his wine.
When they were in the living room, Donna was standing on the raised hearth of the blazing fireplace, towering over the others as if she were some performer on a stage.
"Just find a seat and brace yourself for a dose of... " She was interrupted by Kirk. "Clap!" he shouted.
"Shut up. A dose of truth."
"I'm afraid I don't understand what you're getting at, Donna, my dear. Tell us the meaning of this foolish, childish little game," Jejune said.
"In a minute. Everyone sit down. Now!" Obediently, they all took seats side-by-side on the long black leather couch facing the hearth.
"All right," Donna announced, satisfied that she finally had an audience. "I can afford to be honest, where the rest of you hypocritical bastards cannot be." She hiccuped once. "I am without sin, so to speak, and thus can throw the first stone. I accuse all of you of being degenerates."
"Oh my God," Jejune said quietly.
"Yes. Degenerates. I've been watching Rod and Kirk fondling Sue under the table. Watched you, Jejune masturbate John, while he attempted to finger-fuck me under the table."
Rod hid his face in his hands, and attempted to stifle his laughter. There's one thing, he thought with amusement, she really has their attention now. He could hardly wait to see what Donna did next.
Up on the hearth, Donna raised her chin and nodded several times. "We are all adults. We must act that way. No hypocrisy. Nothing to hide." With that, and playing to the hush that hung heavily over the room, she slowly... and tantalizingly... began unbuttoning her blouse. A moment later, she threw it into the fire. She turned to face her shocked audience with a look of defiance. Her breasts, like the proud breasts of some pagan temple high priestess, shone in the firelight.
"Oh, wow." The exclamation came from John.
Now Donna was angry again. "You. You out there. You holier-than-thou lying, fornicating males! You'll fuck every chance you get when you're away from your wife, but you're too shy and timid to drop your drawers when she's in the same room." It was a taunt, a challenge, a dare... an indictment.
"Not me, "baby," Kirk said, unbuckling his belt and letting his pants fall to the floor; his semi-erect penis snapped out like an unhinged safety pin. "I'll play any way you suggest, but come to me." He stroked his prick a couple of times and tried to get up on the hearth with the bare-bosomed Donna, but she forced him back by putting her foot against his chest and shoving. He fell back against the couch.
"And what about you two women? Jejune? Sue... darling! Do you like lesbian sex so much that the sight of a male's nudity scares you?"
Sue looked as if she had been slapped across the face. Jejune's smile was ominous, and it promised retribution.
"What the hell is she talking about?" John asked Sue.
"It's drink talk, darling. She doesn't know what she's saying," Sue tried to whisper.
"Get out of those clothes, Sue, or I'll elaborate fully," Donna ordered. "And you, John, you talk tough about fags, but your penis is still inside your pants. Maybe you don't have enough to show...?"
"You fucking bitch," John called to Donna, unfastening his pants. "You'll see how much prick I have when I shove it clown your throat."
"Now that the party's getting a glow on," Donna brightened, "I am going to put my pussy out in the wind for the first taker."
Donna peeled off her ski pants and slid the bikini panties down her thighs until she stood completely naked on the hearth platform in front of them. She looked like an exercise instructor for a mixed group of students in varying shades of undress. John had never seen a lovelier muff on any woman; it was positively luxuriant.
"All right, get your rags off, you stinking sinners. We're going to wash our hypocrisy away in one long snowed-in laundromat," Donna sang out, leaping down from her platform to mingle with the others. She approached her husband, who was standing dumbly staring at her, still dressed. She nudged him in the groin.
"What do you say now, baby? You've been wanting to limber up your far-out kinks. Drop your laundry. No telling what you'll attract."
Rod felt unable to speak, so shocked was he by the change that had come over his wife. She had been sulky and smouldering for some time, but little could he expect that her dying sparks would erupt into a forest fire, that his strait-laced wife would actually encourage an orgy.
Donna padded her way over to the stereo and stacked on a number of records. The naked De-Lapp sidled up to her. "Why don't you get up there on that long ancient dining room table, and those 'hypocrites,' as you called them, won't know what to think when I shove this little baby right up your asshole. Rod can fuck you in the cunt. You can give that punk kid a blow job. But it'll be my prick that sends you into orbit."
The first record dropped into place and a soft Latin rhythm filled the air. Donna was not in the least bit offended by the words spoken by Kirk. She had seldom heard such language and ideas, true; but she found she was enjoying the crude profanities and his blunt description of depraved sexual acts. It excited her to hear the word pictures and sense the possibilities of the perverse postures, and in her drunkenness she treated it as a schoolyard game. It would fit in perfectly with her plans of exposing them as degenerate hypocrites.
Donna reached out for his prick and casually stroked it a couple of times. "Good idea," she said, so loosely and flippantly that the naked Kirk looked down at his rigid cock enclosed in her hand and then back up to her face.
"You'd better not be kidding," he snarled dangerously, "This is nothing to joke about."
"What makes you think I'm joking?" Donna said.
Kirk reached out and placed his hand over her naked breast, sliding it down her side to her hip. He curved it around her buttocks and pulled her toward him until their bellies touched, the head of his prick pressed and throbbed against her navel.
"Because you're out of character, bitch. I've been trying to asshole fuck you for a long time and you've always denied me. Why now?"
It was a good question, Donna thought, the booze not completely dulling her appreciation of the ridiculousness of what she was proposing. She was going to permit Kirk DeLapp, a man whose little mouth, the lips colorless and curling, a dead giveaway of his not very latent cruelty, to ram his cock up her rectum, and under ordinary circumstances she wouldn't allow him to hold her hand, even though she had permitted him into her bed out of sheer revenge two or three times because of Rod and Jejune's incestuous behavior.
But how could Donna put into words the reasoning behind her decision, the thoughts that drove her, probably at the moment the only rational and reasonably wholesome member of the group, into proposing and organizing a program of spectator sex? What she had seen in the other room, the men acting like intoxicated bees winging their way to the honey of Sue's snatch, and John's own sneaky advances to her, had clarified her own ideas of the personalities involved. They all needed help. She would be their group leader. It was clear that each member was infected with a sexual hang-up, some only kinky like Kirk's preference for buggering, while others were playing toward an entire new life-style, specifically Sue's flirtation with an AC-DC experiment. At the beginning of this evening, Donna had believed an open, frank and forthright discussion was needed. When that had become impossible as the liquor took over, more drastic measures now were called for; a raw group therapy confrontation in which the flaw could be visualized and experienced and then discussed. She tried to put it into words.
"We're going to play 'Show And Tell,' Kirk, the way the kids do in school. After the show, you tell what it was like, and I'll tell you what it means, what's wrong with you."
"That's a crock of shit, but let's get this show on the road."
Kirk took her by the arm and led her to the long low leather couch.
"John, drop your drawers. She wants you in this production. You get to play the top slice of bread."
"The old sandwich game, huh? You bet," John said without pausing to think, and dropping his trousers over a prick that had been stiff since the first sight of Donna naked.
To say Rod was surprised by his wife's sudden and unexplained behavior would be an understatement. He was amazed. And delighted. Rod had been dreaming of this moment, the decision from her that would open whole new vistas of total sexual expression. Rod was certain their years of married life together had taken a toll, that their relationship had stagnated. Died of boredom. The feel of a couple of strange cocks inside her would do wonders, driving her closer to him the same way he always felt more considerate of his wife after he knocked off an outside cunt.
Goddamn stubborn women, it takes them forever to learn. But when they do come around, they do it with a vengeance, he thought. Letting Kirk have her asshole in public. Jesus! It had taken him years to wear her down to the point that she'd even permit an occasional anal fuck. Rod turned to Sue. She was watching with wide excited burning eyes as Kirk, seated in the middle of the couch, prepared Donna, and her husband stroked his long cock into readiness.
Sue felt Rod's eyes on her.
"Oh, Rod, I've never seen others do it," she groaned, "my own husband with your wife." Oddly enough, she was horribly excited by the prospect of seeing it-of viewing the lewd spectacle, and her arousement was centered in her throbbing hungry vagina. She wanted to watch; she wanted to fuck!
"Don't worry, cousin," Rod said, beginning to pull off her clothing. "There's no one I'd rather watch with than you. It's poetic justice for John to screw Donna since I own the cherry of the girl he married. And I'll put another notch on my cane while we watch."
Kirk positioned Donna standing in front of him and turned her around so that he faced her ass. She tugged on John's cock as he ran his hands over her breasts and down to the triangle between her legs, slipping a finger inside the warm wet pussy lips.
"Keep your knees straight and bend over. Suck John's cock if you want," Kirk ordered.
Donna, now strangely acquiescent, obeyed, bending down and taking the head of the upstanding cock between her lips, licking the sharp-tasting drops foaming from the glans. She felt John's loins tense and his fingers lace into her hair at the same time as Kirk's hands spread open her buttocks. The tip of the tongue on her tightly puckered anus made Donna rock forward in cold shock, sucking in John's long fat prick until her nose hit his pubic hair.
She mewed and squirmed uncomfortably as the wet tongue toyed with her asshole, Donna concentrating on sucking John's prick to keep her mind off the maddening tantalizing tickle in the crevice of her ass. She felt her body giving up its resistance to this depraved act; indeed, there was almost immediate and uncontrollable excitement growing in her.
John clenched and unclenched his hands in her hair, gently rotating his hips and feeling the waves of pleasure washing down through his intestines to his balls as he fucked the warm wet in sucking sensuous red-lipped hole in the beautiful face of this previously aloof woman. He felt dizzy as if the blood rushing to his swelling prick were being drained directly from his brain and he needed to hold her head for balance.
Kirk worked widening circles on the little asshole with his tonguetip until he was washing the whole of the wrinkled rubber ring and its surrounding walls with the flat of his tongue. He returned the tip to the asshole opening and pressed until the tough nether flesh gave and let the tongue in. Donna involuntarily tightened her sphincters around his tongue and clenched her wide-open ass cheeks on his face. She moaned as he flicked his tongue further in and out of the opening, relentlessly wearing down the stubborn will of the rubbery ring to resist when he introduced the head of his cock.
Donna's ass, imprisoned by his hands, struggled sideways to rid the anus of the persistent visitor, but Kirk applied forward pressure with his head on her buttocks and drove her further up John's choking cock.
He continued to dance his tongue in and out of her asshole, pushing deeper and twirling circles with the tip, until Donna thought it would drive her insane. She unconsciously increased the suction from her mouth at a frenzy to match the darts loosening up her backside, unknowingly giving John the best blow job he ever had, wet, busy working, warm and passionate, making his legs feel weak, John became aware of the tensing building up in his balls, and he knew if she kept her delicious living mouth on his prick a minute longer, he was going to cum all over the place. He didn't want to end it all so quickly, but he wasn't, by Christ, going to let the work of an expert cocksucker go unrewarded.
Kirk settled the problem for both of them. He pulled his head out of her ass and leaned back on the couch, spreading his thighs and positioning his stiff cock skyward. He slapped Donna on the ass to get her attention. She backed off John's prick and looked over her shoulder at Kirk.
"Whoa back." He grinned at her evilly, his hands slipping around her buttocks to the front, the fingers digging into her hipbones as he pulled her toward him.
Donna was so aroused that resistance was impossible; she lowered herself until she felt the broad head of the cock touch the crevice. Now Kirk moved his hands around to the underside of her buttocks and split them open wide to settle the tip of his prick against the rubbery ring.
Donna's face tensed as she anticipated the ripping pain of entry, supporting her weight with her hands on the couch. She held her breath as the pressure from DeLapp's cock against her asshole mounted as she gingerly lowered and the prick rose higher to complete the union.
Donna's heavy irregular breathing was the only sound in the room. The others watched quietly, in hypnotized fascination, as the beautiful woman pulled her lips back over her clenched teeth and turned every ounce of her concentration to inflicting upon herself that first flash of intestinal pain that would mean the prick had broken through the resisting asshole ring. Sweat was breaking out on her brow and her underarms. Suddenly it happened. "Aaaaag, Jesus!"
Kirk reached around and grabbed the heavy breasts of the panting perspiring woman who had admitted the head of his prick to her asshole. He felt the nipples instantly snap erect to his touch. He wiggled his own buttocks into the couch cushion to help her rectum adjust. The tiny stretched anus gripped the head of his cock like a rubber band stretched to the limits. She was over the first part of the pain and now all that remained was for the rectum to take his cock to the hilt.
Kirk pulled against her breasts and humped up his groin to wedge more cock into her asshole.
"Oh, easy! Jesus! Take it easy," she groaned.
The abused ass sent a tightening signal to the entry ring and it gripped around the prickhead like the noose on a hanging victim. DeLapp kneaded her breasts harshly and gouged his forehead into her spine as he felt the intimidating asshole attempting to guillotine his prick. He couldn't stand waiting any longer. He centered his strength and drove his loins up off the cushion with all his might.
"Ugh, ooh, ahhh."
He had cruelly impaled her asshole with all of his cock. In a split-second of relaxation of the tight ring, he had plunged his long shaft unimpeded to the hot rubbery depths of her rectum. Donna's body quivered from the sudden rude shock. The burning pain up her anal passage was easing off as her rear almost immediately adjusted to the cruel sodomy. She lifted her face and saw John's prick standing at the ready in front of her. She took it in her hand and heard the catch in his throat escape as if he were on the edge of cumming and the slightest attention would finish the job. She hoped he wouldn't cum and spoil it because now she had to be fucked-and fucked royally-or go insane.
"Hurry up, Kirk. Get her over," John practically shouted.
Donna remembered there were three faces behind John and she wondered what kind of a lewd picture they presented. She imagined she looked as if she merely was sitting on his lap, there being no way of knowing now that there was a prick up her ass. Kirk flexed his cock and she winced.
"It's a tight sweet little asshole," he admitted, like a true connoisseur.
DeLapp nudged Donna to follow and he began turning his body to the side, sliding his ass on the cushion and lifting his feet up from the floor. Her asshole held tight to his cock and directed her following body with a painful radar. Finally they were settled on the couch with DeLapp on his back, his cock embedded deep inside her anus, and she lying full-length on her back tight against his stomach and chest. Her legs were limp, feet drawn up to the outside of his thighs and the knees open to ease the tearing strain on her asshole.
John couldn't wait. He slipped between her widespread legs, straddling Kirk's knees and opened her thighs even wider. He took his throbbing hot cock in his hand and guided it without delay until the bulbous head split her soft pink damp warm cuntlips. He took a deep breath and fell lightly forward to chew on her breasts, letting his husky cock sink to the stump in blissful relief in the wet unresisting cavern of her cunt.
"Ooooooooh," she moaned, the pleasure in her voice was undeniable, as John's glistening white cock slid smoothly into her belly, joining DeLapp's prick already buried there in her rectum. Donna was sandwiched between them, impaled between their cocks like meat on a barbecue spit. Only the thin wall of flesh between her anus and snatch separated the two fleshy spears.
There was no waiting. John, holding his breath since she ended her sucking of his cock, began furiously fucking into her hot moist pussy, while Kirk beneath thrusted up with short solid strokes into the depths of her rectum. In a few seconds they had found a natural rhythm and buffeted her between them like a boxer and his trainer exercising with the heavy bag. Donna had begun a low moan, not even conscious of the sound herself, the strange sound of a cat purring in soprano, interrupted occasionally by a deep grunt from her chest as they smacked into her body with greater and greater impact.
The two thick cudgels of white meat skewered Donna's wide wishboned legs, splitting the orifices of her loins like twin battering rams. The spectators, who were all naked themselves now, were strangely quiet. The only sounds in the room were the grunts and moans, the sound of flesh pounding on flesh, and the wind rattling against the shutters.
Sue stood between Rod and Jejune, both of whom were absently running their fingers over her body as they watched the fucking spectacle on the couch in mounting excitement. Sue was clinically interested in how her husband fucked Donna, because she could vicariously take the place of the other woman in her mind, as she saw the ragged pink edges of Donna's cunt drawing back with John's outstroke and then his cunt-wet cock folding the lips in again as the long stroke rammed the prick far into the deepest accessible parts of her belly.
Sue saw that Kirk was taking cruel pleasure in the violation of Donna's asshole, gritting his teeth and grinning demoniacally with each murderous long stroke he rammed splittingly between her buttocks. She also realized that it was Rod's hand tenderly holding and squeezing her breast, and she didn't have to think about the fine-boned slender hand that stroked the fur muff above her vagina, knowing from the skilled pleasure-producing touch that it belonged to Jejune.
Viewing the two men ravishing the beautiful Donna at the same time, beating her insides with their pelvic billyclubs with no thought of injury, stirred up the most intense feelings of desire in Sue's swelling breasts that she had ever experienced. She wanted Rod to fuck her, or the tender sucking lips of Jejune to work her vagina to jelly and her clitoris to a bursting fibrous glow, and then to experience that marvelous moment of climax. Her modesty over the prospect of performing in front of others vanished and was forgotten as the cries from the twin-fucked Donna reached a new decibel level. Even the wind howled in ecstasy. Sue had to cum and she wouldn't hesitate to do it in Yankee Stadium before sixty-five thousand screaming sports fans the way she now felt.
Donna was moaning in undisguised impassioned pleasure. Totally letting herself go, overindulged in pricks, she howled and bucked and fucked back at each of the pounding penises. With each driving digging stroke, she counter-punched, taking everything they had-wanting even more. She was the very picture of wantonness. Her hips fired backwards to meet the up-thrust of Kirk's cramming his cock into her rectum and then shot forward to swallow the whole of John's plunging cock into her lead-melting-hot pussy. Her whole frame undulated between the two men and her buttocks twitched as they moved in tiny abandoned circles.
"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah... " she chanted in step with the buildup inside her belly toward an explosion, the climb inside her at an even faster pace than the punishing dual thrusting into her loins. She was almost there, close, closer, closer! All three of them were groaning and panting and gasping a rendition of total oblivion to life or persons outside of their sexual triangle.
John finished first.
"I'm cumming... oh, fuck, it's good," he slobbered down on her breasts as he fired a full load of hot sperm into her steaming pussy, his prick being pumped by Donna's flailing muff as she reached her climax.
"Ooooh, oooooh, I'm cumming. I'M CUMMING! Oooooh... My ass, my cunt... oh, ooooh! God!"
Donna's orgasm climbed and climbed, it doubled-echoed-continued, but she was still conscious of the spurting prick in her cunt, and then she heard the puffing sound beneath her and the heavy groan before the first molten burst of viscous seminal fluid flooded her rectum, the twitching prick swelling as it fired another salvo and further stretching her seldom-worked asshole passage.
"Up the ass! All the way... deep, deep, up your fucking ass," Kirk growled into her hair with the voice of a madman as his flowing cock spewed the last burst of jism into her body, and she began the decline from her climax.
They lay, a sticky wet oozing heap for a minute, breathing heavily, taking time to let their heartbeats settle and the blood return to its other roles in the body. Finally John climbed up, his prick limp and withdrawing from her cunt with a wet sucking noise. Donna lay still, unable to move with Kirk beneath her holding her around the waist and with his cock up her asshole. Gratefully now she could feel the prick deflating. John stood over the couch and looked at how she was lying, legs obscenely splayed, his cum mixing with her own and spilling out the ragged pink edges of her cunt-lips and down to the stump of Kirk's cock protruding from her rectum below.
John looked at his wife, half expecting to find a disapproving hurt expression on her face... if she bothered to return his look at all. He was stunned. Her eyes were wide and glazed over with smoking desire, and she was holding Rod's stiff prick in her hand. Her look was locked on Kirk's cock still embedded in Donna's asshole. John also was shocked to see that Jejune had two fingers up Sue's cunt, but his wife was making no objection. No more than she was pushing away Rod's hand lazily feeling her tits. John clearly saw his wife frozen in an emotional hangover trance, transfixed by the experience of viewing Donna sandwiched between John and Kirk.
Sue all at once snapped out of it. She squeezed Rod's prick in her hand as if joyfully aware of it for the first time and looked at his face eagerly.
"Do it to me."
"Sure. Which side?"
"I want it in my bottom. I've never had it there."
"Fine. Looks like I'm always the guy who does the firsts. First in suck, first in fuck and first in the ass of my cousin." He managed to make it sound like a family motto.
Jejune took her by the arm.
"Rod can do what Kirk was doing, and I will play John's role here," she said, patting Sue's pubic hair. "We will keep it all in the family."
A flash of doubt crossed Sue's face. She saw Donna sitting up on Kirk's lap and lifting her plundered asshole off his dying prick. It came out with a loud plop as the tight vacuum was broken. Donna had a dazed expression, like a prizefighter who has taken a solid shot to the head and cannot shake off the effects. Her eyes bulged wide as if being forced out from behind by liquid filling her head.
"L-listen to m-me, all of you. I want... w-want to... " Donna said, unable to enunciate words. She struggled to circumvent the wadding stuffed in her brain so that she could take charge once more, to get the gathering back under control and reveal to them, from what they had witnessed, what were the mental quirks with John and Kirk: how John was a classic example of the insecure and immature boy trying to convince himself of his malehood by his sickening, hound-sniffing, never-ending quest for strange tail; and how the sadistic Kirk with his preference for the buggering of even his female sex partners had blossomed from latent homosexuality into a full flowering fag. But Donna's capacities for making these and other observations had deserted her. They disappeared just as her traditional reserve, her high I.Q., and her love for mother, flag, and country had galloped off to desert her at the precise moment her overfucked body's sensual spirit peaked to the highest possible orgasm within her human tolerance.
Donna had flipped out. Been lucked silly! She wouldn't get her head together for days, and when she did her preconceived notions about the ways husbands and wives should behave by themselves, and with other couples of similar tastes, would have been rinsed away without a trace of memory, scrubbed and drained along with the cum of two men who convincingly conveyed into her anal and vaginal orifices the message that you better get it now while there are people around wanting to share it with you, because you won't find swappers when you're in the senior citizens' home!
Sue obediently and eagerly bent over the edge of the awe-inspiring huge mahogany table, baring her ass for all the world to see. She even put both hands behind her and pulled apart the cheeks of her buttocks, to reveal the little brown star of her virginal anus. Rod stepped up behind her and began teasingly working his huge stiff cock into the folds of her ass.
"Will it hurt very much, Rod?" she asked. "You're so big, and I'm so small there."
Rod bent down and kissed her buttocks. "It will hurt at first," he admitted. "But didn't it hurt the night I broke your hymen in the car?"
John's mouth fell open and a strangled sound of protest gurgled from his throat.
Rod continued, his voice calmly reassuring, "I don't believe you regret that little pain."
John spoke up. "Sue... darling! You're not going to let him... " He stopped. There was pain in his voice and anguish on his face. He had grown afraid, now that his balls were empty and he felt a measure of his rational mind restored, that he would be forced to witness a degradation of his wife that would write an end to that last measure of innocence he cherished in her. She wasn't like other women. She wasn't a slut--like Donna. "Sue... I realize I have no right to try to be your moral advisor, not after what you watched happen... "
"That's exactly right, John," she interrupted coldly, and now she sounded perfectly sober. "No right at all." John persisted, with a hurt tone in his voice. "Darling, think of how horrible you'll feel tomorrow. You're drunk. You don't know what you're doing."
Sue narrowed her eyes and fixed them steadily on her husband. Then an obscene phrase she had heard once from two English sailors fighting in a bar came to mind. "Fuck off," she snarled. "I am about to be asshole fucked and cunt eaten... for starters."
The blow caught John between the eyes, a foul tip from a bat that literally powered him backwards a few paces. "What's happened to you?" he cried, his voice almost unrecognizable in shock.
Sue seemed to grow as he seemed to shrivel in size. There was a fire in her eyes-an all-consuming fire that even made Kirk move back nervously. It was as though the old Sue had been merely a chrysalis and, as they watched, a new birth, a new transformation was taking place.
Regally she walked to the hearth, where minutes before Donna had presided. She stepped up on it and stood looking down. "Beside me, Rod. Beside me, Jejune." The two cousins, smiling knowingly, got up on the hearth. The three of them stood precisely the same way, with legs outstretched and hands on hips.
"We're the Morgans," Sue said. "The great-great-great grandchildren of pirate Henry Morgan and the woman he neglected to marry. Only today have we realized we are, in reality, a sexual triumvirate. And none of you shall ever separate us again. You, Donna. You have nothing to fear from me, for I shall love you as does Jejune." Her voice seemed momentarily to have saddened, "You, John. Whether we stay as man and wife depends upon your ability to adjust to the situation. If you're man enough, if you can reconcile your silly little double standards, then there is hope."
Outside, the wind had died and now the pure white snow flakes came floating down from a starless sky. Today's and yesterday's tracks were gone; tomorrow everything would be new.
The three cousins put their arms around each other. They kissed.
And Sue, obviously the new high priestess, issued the first royal command. "Now... let us make love."
