It began with the first crushing heat of summer, sparked itself to consuming life with the fury of a brush fire, and charred the personal life of every member of the Brillard family for the rest of his or her life. But the heat alone did not start the conflagration. Fires are not made by the sun without at least a splinter of glass, a gust of wind or a carelessly dropped cigarette butt. All these were there-all acted at once in the steaming humidity of a June night to inflame what the sociologists like to call an upper middle class family in a quietly suburban neighborhood.
The family? Mr. and Mrs. John D. Brillard and their three children: John Jr., aged 19, home on vacation from college; Ann, aged 17, on vacation from high school; and Susanne, aged 15, also on school vacation.
That night of the beginning held all the elements of the classic emotional brush fire-the heat, the overbearing light of burning sun focused exactly on the splinter of mirror, reflected in an exact beam to tinder crisp grass, and aided by a faint, but deadly breeze.
Mr. and Mrs. Brillard had left for the weekend leaving their three children at home. John Jr. had gone out on a date with a girl he had known in high school. Ann had also gone out on a date. Sue was left at home alone where, just before she planned to go to bed, the air-conditioner, long overtaxed by the day's heat, finally broke down.
The stifling heat of early summer swept into the house, covered her slender adolescent body with perspiration and forced her out of her room to the screened porch behind the kitchen. There, clad only in a translucent baby doll nightie, she lay down on the chaise lounge without covers and tried to catch even the faint caress of a cooling breeze.
John Brillard had tried everything he knew-everything he had learned in high school and college to force his date into joining him in a sexual act-any sexual act. All failed. She kissed him, she allowed him to feel the taut jut of her firm breasts, but only if his fingers remained outside the agonizing confines of her bra and blouse. To compound matters, she refused to touch his own desperate organ and, after an hour of talk and touch and pleading, had left the young man an infuriated mass of physical and emotional frustrations.
John took her home just after ten and drove back to his family's house where he arrived just before eleven. He was still drinking one of the cans of beer he had bought on his date in the false hope that the mild alcohol content might help convince the girl. Not only had it refused to convince her, she had refused to drink more than one can. As he walked into the house, John was in the process of finishing his fifth can of beer. The slight easy buzz in his head might have been the splinter of glass that focused the sun's rays on the crisp tinder, but that tinder was another thing.
Sue Brillard had tried to sleep, had closed her eyes, had turned, had tossed, and now lay on the chaise with the flimsy material of her nightie pasted to her jutting young breasts by the thin film of perspiration covering them. As John walked into the kitchen of the Brillard home, finished the last of his beer and started to throw the empty can into the trash basket there, he happened to look out to the enclosed porch and see, through the opening of the door, his little sister's body. He could not see her head. He could only see the long, smooth legs glistening in the muted moonlight. She was lying on her back. He could see the outline of her panties-the soft mound of her genitals and the not-yet-completely-matured sweep of her hips. Above, he could see naked torso and the exposed undersides of pert breasts almost white as silver in the eerie light. But he could not see her face. That was obscured by the door jamb.
The frustrations of his date, the sensual heat of the night and the beer in his stomach erased any association between the lithe young body and family relationship. He was drawn to the glistening soft flesh like a moth, and as he took the three or four paces through the kitchen to stand in the doorway to the enclosed porch, the fire that was to consume the entire Brillard family had already erupted from his groin and filled his entire body.
Somehow, he was able to stop in the doorway. He looked at his sister's young face, the rounded lips half pouting, the closed eyes and the long auburn hair. But it was too late. John Brillard took the two paces through the door to the chaise and knelt beside it.
He looked from his sister's face, to her bust, to her exposed navel, and then down to the cushion of Venus and the smooth legs beyond. He wet his lips and then, gently, almost as if he were terribly afraid of what was going to happen, but powerless to stop it, he touched her on the shoulders.
"Sue?"
She opened her eyes slowly, looked at him a moment and then smiled, twisting slightly so that, with his fingers still on her shoulder, he could now feel the firm rise of breast under the heel of his hand.
"Oh, Johnny. It's you."
He wet his lips-half compelled-half terrified of what he knew he was going to do. What if she cried out? he thought. What if he touched her and she told their parents? He tried to stop himself with any thought-any argument he could, but nothing worked. Under the shadow of the chaise, his desire had already tingled his own sexual organ to painful life and even more painful confinement under the tight fabric of his trousers.
His hand slipped the merest fraction of an inch lower so that his fingers now rested just below her shoulder, but the heel of his hand was unmistakably on the rise of her left breast.
"You're hot," he said.
"Yes."
"It's hot down here."
"Yes."
And his hand moved again. This time he cupped the jutting round flesh under his palm, felt the hot dampness of its perspiration in the thin fabric of the nightgown.
She breathed in through her mouth but the sound was in three stages, almost like an effort to control pain.
"You feel good," he said. He had no clever words any more. He'd used them all up on his date. Now he was a stumbling fool, consumed by a blind desire he could not control or even direct. He had to touch her flesh, feel it under his hand, and yet he could not lower his lips to her face. He knelt on the floor beside her, his eyes locked to hers, his left hand slipping under the damp fabric of nightgown so that he cupped the firm flesh of her rich breast, ran his fingers over the smooth underside and up to the tiny nipple jutting upright like a small soldier at rigid attention.
"Oh, Johnny," she said. "You shouldn't-"
A wave of terror filled him. She was going to cry out-she would tell their parents. Fear alone pulled his hand away, but not far. Her own hand snaked gently out and touched his wrist. He moved his fingers back to the demanding flesh, this time covering it with his palm.
"Oh, Johnny," she said again.
"Sis ... I-"
"We shouldn't." Her hand was over his on her breast. Her eyes locked to his own. Her lips parted and her pink tongue darted out to moisten them.
He leaned over her slowly, inch by inch, knowing in his brain it was wrong, but in his heart that he could no longer even hope to control the raging inferno that burned within him.
Their lips met tentatively at first-soft, explorative, almost shy flesh on flesh-and hovered that way barely touching to savor the sweet nectar of saliva and the equally sweet expectation of response. She lay pliant beneath him, her mouth slightly open, her breathing heavy against his cheek, and gradually, so slowly the movement could hardly be seen, he increased the pressure of his mouth on hers.
The soft adolescent flesh parted beneath the pressure of his insistence until their mouths were fused together, impossibly linked in the first passionate kiss of damnation. They remained that way for some time-each shocked and yet pleased, each consumed by doubts and yet consumed even more by the strange tingling urges bubbling within them. She, awakened (albeit partially) for the first time in her life; he savoring the sweet nectar of forbidden fruit.
Then, in an instant, her taut body seemed to collapse under his. A great gasp escaped her and her lips parted in innocent surrender. Slender, glistening arms circled his neck and pulled his mouth even tighter to her own, and her mouth relaxed under his in total response to the female instinct for surrender. His tongue responded slowly. The fear and guilt was still in him and an ever smaller part of his mind still raced with the terrifying thought that someone would enter the house and see them in their forbidden caress. But gradually, as the sensitive flesh explored the willing pink of her own lips and tongue, as he probed deeper into her response, all sanity left him. He locked his lips to hers, savored every soft curve of the flesh beneath them, explored and tasted in an orgy of kissing such as he had never known.
His left hand, still resting on the hot flesh of her right breast, had remained idle and passive during the first moments of the kiss; but as his reeling mind lost more and more logic and was overcome by the lust that could no longer be stopped, his fingers began to move again. Gently at first and then with more insistent demands, they slid over the taut flesh, explored the perfect contour of the small mound and the rigid invitation of the erect nipple.
His mouth slid from hers to her neck and then to her ear as the fingers stroked and caressed. She gasped several times, and when his tongue began exploring the rose petal of her ear she gasped so loud he thought the entire neighborhood must be witness to his guilt.
"Oh, Johnny!" she said. "We're not supposed-"
He could not answer her at first. He could only think of the slender young flesh beneath his lips and hand. His mouth became more demanding. Gently, yet with an authority that could no longer be ignored, he took the lobe of her ear between his teeth and nipped it slightly, sending a mingled shock half of pain, half un-experienced ecstasy, through her.
His hand continued to caress her firm breast, but also to explore beyond the confines of its gentle mound. He slid it from nipple to underside and then to her torso and down to the slight cavity of her waist. Finally, he reached the fabric of her flimsy panties covering the first beginning swell of her adolescent hips.
She pulled her lips from his and looked into his eyes. Her own, barely blue in the moonlight that flooded the porch through the screening, held an expression of doubt mixed with pleased wonder.
"Johnny ... we're not supposed-" she said again.
"Don't you like this?" he said.
"I ..."
"Doesn't it feel good?"
"I don't know. It's sort of-well, scary."
"You don't have to be afraid," he said. And his hand moved over the fabric of her panties, over the swell of her hips, down the valley of her groin and then up again over the swell of her Venus mound.
She gasped again.
He could feel the wet invitation of her body through the thin material of the panties, so different from the dampness of perspiration, so fully wet and open for him.
"You don't have to be afraid," he said again. "I'll be real gentle." He slipped one tentative finger under the elastic and gently tugged at the panties.
She did not resist him, but neither did she raise the weight of her buttocks to allow the material to be slipped easily away.
"Come on, Sis," he said. His voice was choked now. He knew that if she didn't offer herself freely after what they had already done he might even rape her. A small weak voice from the greyest depths of his mind whispered that the woman beneath him, the half-child lying on the chaise, was his own flesh and blood, but the sound of it was so feeble in contrast to the roar of his own turgid desire that it was barely heard. "I'll show you something good."
She still looked at him. Still the expression of doubt was in her eyes. "You won't hurt me?"
"No. I won't hurt you."
Again his fingers snaked under the elastic of her panties, but this time, she raised her hips slightly so that by using both hands, he could pull the fabric away, down her long legs and over her feet. He did not look until he had dropped the garment on the floor beside his own knee. Only then did he allow his eyes the visual luxury of again climbing from her feet, to her smooth ankles, up the long sweeping line of her legs to the beautifully arched mound of her invitation.
Only the slightest down of auburn hair covered his objective from total view. Perhaps her mind had reservations, but her body was unmistakably welcoming him. The slender pink wound had opened partially to reveal the spreading wet flesh within, covered with a film of dew and topped by an erect clitoris that seemed actually to beckon him like a tiny crooked finger.
"Oh, Johnny, don't hurt me," she said. "What are you going to do?"
"I won't hurt you, Sis. I just want to kiss you."
"Kiss me!" She seemed shocked. "There?"
"You'll like it."
She covered her exposed vagina with one hand, but he noticed as she did so that part of his own lust had taken hold of her. She was unable to keep her palm flat against the damp flesh. He saw one finger curl as it caught in an involuntary spasm and dip into the honeyed chalice beyond.
She was his now, he knew. He leaned over the chaise and kissed her on the parted lips again, but this time his left hand only caressed her breasts for a moment before sliding down over the throbbing length of her chest, to her quivering navel and then down, down again.
Gently, he removed her hand from his goal and extended one finger to touch the pool of desire where it had rested. He slid it over the perspiration-damp outer lips and then, slowly, gently down and in to the bubbling cauldron beyond. He pressed farther, sliding easily over the nub of erectile clitoris and then into the pool beyond.
She gasped. "Oh, guy, Johnny. Is this what ... I mean ... it's so good. Is this what you do on a date?"
His finger still remained within her molten flesh, surrounded by wet desire, exploring and isolating every part of the whole as his lips slid over her neck, down her torso and over her still-covered breasts. This time, he slid his face completely over the breasts and then began to kiss at them from the underside up. This time she moved her own hands and lifted the baby doll nightie so that it rested around her neck, giving him complete access to both jutting fruits.
His hand never stopped working below as his lips circled the mound of one breast, teased at the center and then, after what seemed like hours, finally centered over the erect nipple. He pulled it between his lips, nibbled it gently with his teeth and ran his tongue over the tip, tasting the sweet nectar of perspiration and the even sweeter thrill of the nipple in his mouth as a thing of feeling.
He moved his head from one breast to the other, still allowing his finger the sopping confines of her adolescent vagina, gently rubbing up and down against the throbbing button of clitoris. Her breath was coming faster and heavier now; she was panting and gasping and speaking his name, and then, suddenly, without real warning, she jerked violently, twisting under his head and hand saying "Oh, Oh, Oh," again and again.
At first he didn't know what had happened, and then, as she arched her back and laced her arms around him to pull him tight to her still-throbbing body, he realized. She had had her first orgasm. His little sister, Susanne, had had her first orgasm because of him. It was his lips and his finger that had brought her to it; the knowledge filled him with a sense of power completely untouched by guilt or rationale. All he could think of was that the young girl-half-child, half-woman-now-holding him tight to her throbbing naked body, had experienced her first sense of total sexual release because of his finger in her vagina and his lips on her breasts.
He moved his finger slowly now, but still kept it within the hot confines of her organ and waited several moments for the death lock of her arms around his back to weaken. Finally, her arms dropped away and he pulled back to look at her lying as if stunned on the chaise.
"Oh, Johnny ... That ... that was ..."
"You liked it?"
"It's scary. I felt like ..."
"Like what?"
"Like ... like everything ... I don't know ..."
"You just came off, that's all."
"Came off?"
"Yeah. That's what it's like when you come."
"Can boys do that too?"
"Sure," he said, "only not really the same."
"Why?"
"You mean you've never seen a boy?"
She shook her head.
"Never seen Dad or me in the shower?"
"Mom would have a fit."
He leaned away from the chaise, suddenly embarrassed and yet filled with the newfound sense of power that had consumed him but a moment before.
"Want to?" he asked.
"What?"
"Want to see what a cock looks like?"
She didn't answer. A flicker of modest embarrassment flitted across her face. She averted her eyes, then closed them, but the slight curve of a half-smile was unmistakable on her pouting lips. He rose from his knees and stood beside the chaise. Outside the moonlight flooded the back yard and covered the wide yard with a silver carpet. He unbuckled the belt of his jeans, unzipped the fly and, hooking his thumbs under jeans and under drawers, at once pulled them down to the floor and stepped out of them.
He stood before her wearing shirt, shoes and socks-no more than that-his organ curving upward before him-a turgid shaft of male power touched by the eerie gleam of the moon's light. She still lay with her eyes closed as if afraid of what she would see when she opened them.
"Want to see?" he asked.
She shook her head slightly. He could see the mixture of fear and expectation on her face.
"Nothing to be afraid of, Sis. It can't hurt you."
Her head, averted before, turned slightly toward him, eyes still closed. She waited an instant, then he saw the lids begin to lift, slowly at first and then they snapped opened in wide alarm. She seemed stunned, hypnotized by the erect organ only a bare foot or two from her face.
"That's ... that's ..."
"That's a cock," he said. "Want to touch it?"
"Oh, I-"
"Go on, Sis. Feel how hard it is."
"It's all right? I mean, you wouldn't mind?"
He shook his head, secretly laughing at her naivety.
She seemed hesitant. He watched the fingers of her hands bend and relax twice before she moved slightly. The fingers of her left hand extended toward his organ, hesitated a moment, then advanced again. Again they hesitated.
"Go on," he said again.
She waited only a half-second longer, then as if summoning all her courage at once darted her hand forward and upward to him so that, finally, the pointed tip of one slender finger rested on the very tip of his penis. She stopped there allowing the slight touch of his flesh to send a ripple of unexpected ecstasy shivering up her arm and through her body.
He took a half step forward just as she withdrew her hand slightly and then grasped part of his extended length in her fist.
"Oh," she said. "It's so ... so hard."
"Yes." He could hardly speak. Even with the humid heat of the night, the flesh of her palm was strangely cool, wrapped as it was around the almost steaming flesh of his manhood.
"How do you ..."
"Come?"
She nodded. "I mean, it can't be like a girl."
"You hold it," he said. "Like that. Then you rub it. See ...? Up and down."
"Like-" She ran her hand experimentally along the length of his penis, then brought it back, "-that?"
This time, he could not control the gasp of escaping breath that left him, the rush of reaction to the tingle of forbidden pleasure her simple movement had thrilled him with.
"Yeah," he gasped. "Like that."
Still with her hand on him, she lifted her eyes to his face. "That's all?" she asked.
"All?" He didn't understand.
"I mean, you came off?"
"No."
"But you said-"
"You can't do it just once. Do it some more. Here."
He sat down on the chaise so that she could raise the upper part of her body and look closely at him as she rubbed her hand up and down on his erect organ.
Too late he realized that his excitement on the date, his almost uncontrolled lust since arriving home, and now the pressure of her hand moving up and down on his penis, were too much. He wanted to control himself, but he couldn't, and then he didn't want to anymore; and as her hand jerked down, he gasped with the snapping of release within him, watched as the jet of fluid-silver in the moonlight-ejected forth almost a foot in the air, seemed to hover for a moment like a sensuous satellite, and then fell hot and sticky over her hand and his lap.
Her hand still remained on him after the fluid fell, gently continuing to move up and down, seeming to take some form of instinctual delight in the feel of milky fluid that now covered her fingers and acted as lubricant between them and the flesh they covered.
"Was that it?" she said. "Was that how you come off?"
He nodded his head. He could not speak.
"Was it good?" she asked. "As good as mine?"
Again he nodded.
She stroked her hand up and down on him, increasing the speed of her rhythm slightly. "Do it again," she said. "I like to see you shoot like that."
"I can't, Sis. You have to wait a minute."
"Why not?"
"Well, it's just-"
"I can."
For the moment, desire had left him. The built-up pressure of lust that had struggled within him had finally exploded, and he was, for the moment, satisfied. For a flickering second, the instant after his release, he had suffered a pang of guilt. Sue was his sister and she was really just a little girl, but now he realized that the lust which had filled him had also taken its hold on her, and with her there seemed to be no mixture of guilt.
"You can?"
"Sure. I feel like doing it again. Only I want you to. I don't want to stick my own finger in there."
His organ was now only half-erect. The feeling in it was not one of desire, but he knew that despite that it would rise again soon. He turned on the chaise, touched her open vaginal lips with his hand and then, without speaking again, knelt beside her and lowered his mouth to her open cup of Venus.
At first she tried to push his head away, but after his extended tongue had made contact with her erect clitoris, the hands that had tried to repulse, cupped over his ears, their fingers lacing into the hair at the back of his head, and pulled him hard and tight to the cup of molten wet fire from which he began to drink. He circled the edges of her labia with his tongue, extended it into the hot cavern before him, and then lifted it to slide it over the throbbing clitoris. Gently at first, and then with added pressure and speed, he worked his tongue up and down over the nub of soft flesh, tasting it, feeling it, savoring the desire from it flowing into himself. His cheeks rested on the virtually hairless cushion of her groin, her hands pulled him tight to it so that he could hardly breathe, but he didn't care. He could feel the involuntary tic of her hips under him-the instinctual response of a woman experiencing the thrill of expectant orgasm, then the ticking became faster, more demanding and more brutal. Her pelvis crashed against his face and relaxed, only to crash again. She was a mad horse bucking an impertinent rider, a small boat tossed by raging seas, and yet she held on to him, forcing his head to her flowing stream of desire until with a great cry she wrenched under him, pushed herself toward him and pulled him toward her with such force that he was sure his teeth must have cut the tender flesh.
The cry from her lips seemed to climb the screened walls, soar into the dark sky and skip along the silver flood of moonlight, never ending, echoing to the very stars and beyond to an unknown infinite. Still she pressed hard to him, still she clutched his hungry lips to her, so that instead of her organ being within his mouth, his mouth was now almost entirely within her gaping organ and being pulled even deeper.
A moment of fear-he would drown there-a moment of ecstasy-he didn't care. If he were to die, he would die and be buried all at once. His tongue never ceased its movement along the nub of clitoris and back, never ceased caressing, tasting, fondling the wet welcome of her insides, and now his arms reached out, palms spread so that each hand could grasp one jutting breast. He pressed hard on them as he felt the pressure of her own hands relax on the back of his head.
She was gasping now. He could hear her say, "No, Johnny. No more. I can't anymore. No ..."
He lifted his head slightly and looked Up to see the flat plain of her stomach, the twin hills of her breasts still covered by his hands and the valley between leading to her jaw. He could not see her face. He only knew that her mouth was open, her breath coming in heavy gasps from between parted lips.
"Come?" he asked.
"Oh, Johnny. Do you always do that?; I mean, to your girl friends?"
"Sometimes. Like it?"
"Oh ..."
"Like it better than finger-fucking?"
"Oh. My head almost came off. I can't even breathe."
"Want to come again?" he said. "I mean even better?" His own organ was now fully erect again, throbbing with the desire that her own passion had given him.
"Oh, Johnny. I can't. I-"
"I can."
"How?"
"Same way."
"You mean ... you want me ... In my mouth ...?"
"Sure, why not?"
"But that's-"
"All the girls do it."
"Take boys in their mouths?"
"Sure. It's a blow job."
"You mean they just blow on it and the boys come off?"
"No, dummy. That's just what they call it. A blow job. You know, sucking a guy off. Frenching him."
"And you want me to do that? I mean give you a blow job?"
"Well, I ate you, didn't I?"
"Is that what you ... I mean when you kiss me ... I mean down there ..."
"Oh, Sis, you don't know anything, do you?"
She shook her head, but a slight womanly smile flicked across her lips. "I sure want to learn, though. I like coming off, Johnny. I really like it when my head goes away like that. That's a real high."
"Yeah," he said.
"And do you like it? I mean, when you shoot all over like that?"
"Yeah. Only it's even better when you get sucked off."
"You mean when I put it in my mouth ... Gee, I don't know ..."
"It's easy. Just put the end in your mouth and suck a little and then sort of slip it back and forth while you play with my balls."
"Your balls?"
"These," he said cupping his hand under his scrotum and lifting it slightly so that she could see the two testicles there.
"Oh!" Her eyes were wide again. "I never noticed them!"
"Here, feel 'em," he said.
She reached out to cup her own delicate palm under his scrotum and, with the sensation of their weight in her hand, squeezed slightly.
"Careful!"
"What?"
"That hurts."
"Hurts? But coming off doesn't hurt. How can-"
"Balls are different, that's all. Here-" he eased himself toward her. "Suck on this and just be careful with my nuts."
She looked from his face to his turgid organ, the doubt still there for a moment before a huge smile lit her face and she lowered her head to his penis. At first she hovered before it, looking closely at the expanded flesh, the hard knob at the top and the glistening covering of sperm that still covered it. Then, still holding her head slightly away, she extended her tongue so that only the tip of the pink dart touched the very end of his organ. She touched, touched harder, and then licked almost like a soft animal savoring milk. Then, after another moment, she turned up to look at his face.
"Tastes funny," she said.
"Like it?"
She licked again, waited a moment almost like a professional gourmet or wine taster, letting the strange flavor run from her taste buds to the registry center of her mind and back again. "Ummm," she purred. "It's good!"
And then she slipped her full lips over the end of his penis and slid the throbbing end of it completely into her mouth. He felt the tight squeeze of pressure as she sucked on the tip and the slippery smoothness of her tongue as it circled the organ tentatively at first and then with an unmistakable demand. Her lips slid further down, her fingers played gently with his testicles as her other hand gripped the shaft of his organ below her mouth.
"Go up and down," he gasped. "Up and down."
An inchoate, animal sound escaped her, but she would not let his penis go to form it into words. She obeyed only, pulling his shaft as deeply into her mouth as she could and then letting her lips pull away. An instinct was in her, he thought. She had all the desires of a full-grown woman. And again the feeling of complete power filled him. He was the first. He knew that. He was the first man who had ever shown her any of the joys of sex, and she was responding! She would be in his power from now on. He was no longer worried about her telling their parents when they returned home on Sunday night. He knew that in days to come she would want him, and this so very much that she would never be able to ruin it by any word.
Up and down her mouth slid on the erect shaft of his penis. In and out her fingers pressed on the underside of his scrotum, and again he could feel the first stirrings of eventual release beginning within him. Again he wanted to stop, to pull away for a moment and lodge the shaft of his desire into the home it wanted most, but the sensations traveling through him were too intense to be denied. He pressed one hand over the back of her head to keep it as close to him as possible, and with the other reached under her chest to grasp one small breast, now suspended. The sensation of her flesh under his hand this way was so softly different from feeling the same flesh while she lay on her back. He pressed upward, tested the weight, caressed the nipple and savored the hot wetness of her mouth encircling him.
And then he knew he would come. Part of him still wanted to pull away, but instead he pulled her head tighter to him, thrust deep into her mouth and, shuddering throughout his body, allowed his jet of sperm to crash with almost atomic force into her mouth.
She gagged, but she did not pull away. He heard and felt her swallow and swallow again-knew she was sucking hard on him and drinking every possible drop of fluid she could drain from him. It seemed a giant pump within him would not stop him from ejaculating. It seemed that he was hot having one ejaculation but two, ten, twenty, all at the same time, pumping again and again in the insatiable mouth clamped tight to him sucking and swallowing-sucking and swallowing, until at last he knew there was nothing more in him. He was drained, exhausted. He had had every bit of sperm pulled from him and she had sucked every drop of it down her own throat.
"Oh, God," he said. "That's the most."
She was still sucking on him, still moving her head up and down in a vain attempt to get more and more of the fluid within her. His penis, turgidly erect a moment before, was still technically hard, but had lost its lust-filled demand. He thought for an instant that he would never want sex again but he knew in the same instant that, like the man who eats one potato chip, he would always have to have more.
"Oh, God, Sis," he said again. "Jesus you suck good."
This time she did release his organ, continuing instead to fondle its wet length with her hand.
"Do I?" she said.
"Yeah."
"Better than your old girls?"
"They're not old."
"Older than me."
"Well-"
"Well, do I? Do I suck you off better than they do?"
"You're real good. Bet you've done it before, haven't you?"
"I never!"
"Oh, come on. You can tell me."
"I never. This is the first time I ever even thought-"
Then a wild idea came to his mind. Despite his inability to put it into practice for the moment, it was there. It had always been there, and now he knew that, given a few moments to relax and regain his strength, he might even do that.
"Never played with anybody?" he said.
"Never."
"And never sucked anybody off?"
"Just now. Just now."
"Then you never fucked anybody either."
"Fucked?"
"You know. Had a guy stick his cock in you."
"You mean-" Again her eyes were wide in amazement. She looked from his penis to her own exposed groin. "In there?"
"Sure."
"Oh, Johnny. It's too big. It would hurt terrible."
"Silly, that's where it's meant to go."
"I don't believe you."
"Want me to show you?"
"Well, I-"
"You just wait a minute until it's hard again. You can play with it if you want. Just rub it a little more and I'll show you."
"You really mean-"
"Sure."
"But don't you get pregnant?"
"You won't get pregnant."
"You sure?"
"I'll pull out. I promise."
She was still fondling his penis, rubbing her hand up and down along it as she had done at first, savoring the feel of it as it grew again from half-limp erection to a full, hard shaft of demanding desire.
"You sure it won't hurt?" she said.
"Sure."
"Well, how do I-"
"You just lie on your back. Here, I'll show you."
Very gently, he eased her down so that she was again lying on her back. The baby doll nightie still crumpled around her neck, but the rest of her body was totally naked. One at a time, he spread her legs apart so that they formed a wide inverted V pointing to her open, down-circled vagina. Her knees bent at the sides of the chaise, her toes touched the floor under it. Slowly, meticulously, almost like a track man about to start a mile-long race, he placed one knee on the chaise, and then the other, until he was kneeling between her spread legs with the shaft of his penis held firmly in one hand.
He leaned forward so that part of his weight was supported by the palm of his left hand beside her hip and gently lowered himself so that the purple head of his penis was only a scant inch away from her open vaginal lips.
"See," he said. "I just put it right-"
"I want to see," she said.
She adjusted her torso slightly so that she could raise her neck and look down to where their two sexual organs almost touched.
"It's so big!" she said again.
"It'll fit. Believe me."
"You're sure?"
"Sure."
He eased forward so that the very tip of his organ now touched the wet, open lips of her vagina, played over the spread labia and touched the delicate knob of her clitoris. He held it there, gently moving it up and down against the bobbing clitoris.
"Oh, that's good, Johnny." She was still on her elbows, watching the progress of his entry. Now the head was partially submerged in pink flesh, now the head had almost disappeared and was incased in hot bubbling lava.
Then he felt the barrier and knew that he had lied to her. Her hymen was intact, blocking his total entry. It would hurt her, he knew, to thrust forward and rupture the membrane, but he didn't care. He wanted only his own pleasure, and no more.
He eased back slightly, ready to thrust into her with all his power and sink his entire shaft to its full depth within the hot walls of her welcoming vagina.
And then the kitchen lights went on. A shadow fell over their embrace and an indignant woman's voice said, "Well!"
He jumped up, momentarily forgetting where he had left his trousers. His erection dropped as if hit by a sledge and he turned to face his sister Ann, apparently just arrived home after her date.
"Ann," he stammered. "I know this looks-"
"I know what it looks like," his sister snapped.
"But you don't under-"
"Don't I?" She walked to where Sue still lay naked, legs still spread, an expression of shock on her face. As she leaned over her younger sister, her voice was calm. "Can't have you staying up all night while Mom and Dad are away," she said. "You better get some sleep."
Sue nodded and Ann pulled the fabric of her nightgown down to cover the exposed flesh of Sue's breasts.
John Jr. scurried behind and found his crumpled trousers and under drawers on the floor, and hastily he slipped his legs into them. He was zipping his fly closed when Ann turned to him.
"Hadn't you better get some sleep, too?" she said. Her expression was part sneer, part knowing smile.
He wondered if she would tell their parents, wondered what they would do if they ever found out. The effects of the beer he had consumed earlier had partially worn off. He wanted to go to the toilet, but was sure the fear in him would not allow any water to pass.
"I guess so," he said.
"Good night, Sue," Ann said as she turned into the kitchen and flicked the light out.
"'Night," Sue echoed. And then, "Goodnight, Johnny. Thanks."
He knew he mumbled something, but what it was was not clear. All he could think of was that he had been caught almost in the act of complete sexual congress with his own kid sister, and now he was sure he was in a jam he would never get out of.
Almost like a pet dog, he followed Ann through the kitchen and dining room, then through the living room to the foot of the stairs.
"You know," she said, "big boys like you shouldn't go around trying to fuck their baby sisters."
"I was only-"
"I know what you were only. You were almost breaking her cherry. I saw, remember?"
He nodded meekly.
"Didn't get your regular piece of ass with your date tonight, did you?" Her voice seemed strangely soft as she started to mount the stairs.
He shook his head.
"So you got all hot and horny and thought you'd stick the old magic-maker into little Sue?"
"Look, Ann, I had some beer. I didn't think anyone-"
She turned to him, looked from his eyes over his chest to his groin, and then up again. "You know," she said finally, "a big, well-hung stud like you shouldn't fiddle around trying to dick young girls." A slight smile lifted her lips as her hand slowly reached out to touch him exactly on the groin. "If you want to play fuck and suck games, you should play with girls your own size."
"You mean-"
"Why not? If you're going to do it with Sue, you're sure as hell not going to get me to sit around satisfied with nothing but a candle sticking up my cunt."
John Jr. looked at his sister for a long moment before snaking his arm around her waist and leading her up the stairs to the landing. There, instead of waiting for her to go into the room she shared with Sue, he led her toward his own room and toward what he was sure would be an even wilder experience than the one he had enjoyed downstairs on the back porch.
CHAPTER TWO
Ann entered the small room first, waiting a moment until her brother followed her and then closing the door and flicking on the light. Without speaking she crossed to the single window, stood for a moment looking out to the moonlit night and the scattered neighborhood houses beyond, and then, with a deliberate finality, pulled the shade down.
She turned to her brother still standing by the door, an expression of chagrin and bewilderment on his handsome face. "You really are a first-class shit," she said.
"Honest, Ann, I only-"
"You only tried to stick a dick in Sue without even thinking about anyone else. Now you've probably gone and made her horny for every stud in school. What's that going to look like?"
He took a pace toward her, his hands outstretched in a gesture of helplessness.
"Oh, no," Ann said. "You're not going to scam me. I'll do the talking. You've got one hell of a lot to learn about girls. What do you think it's like going out with boys like you and knowing all the time if you let them in your panties your whole reputation's ruined? What do you think it's like wanting cock so bad you can't think of anything else, and then not being able to get any because if you do none of the girls will talk to you? Never thought of it that way, did you? Never thought I might be going half crazy for a little stuff, did you? Then you come in and give it to Sue. You're a shit, Johnny, a real first-class turd."
"Look, I didn't mean-"
"No, you look to me. I don't give a flying goddam what you didn't mean. This is the way it's going to be. If you're going to dick around with Sue, you're damned well going to give me some meat too, because if you don't ..." she let her eyes roll gently down from his to rest at his groin for a second before climbing up again, "... I'll squeal. I'll tell Mom and Dad everything."
"You wouldn't."
"You sound like it's a bad deal. Hell, I'm just telling you to keep your dick in the family. That way I don't have to go around frustrated all the time, but I can still be a good girl. Only one thing."
"Yeah?"
"You teach me all about sex, but I've got to stay a virgin."
"You mean ... you never ...?"
"No, damn it, I never. But I'm damned well going to learn."
She reached behind her as if some invisible creature had forced her into a momentary half-nelson, stood that way for a moment until the soft slide of opening zipper cut the silence that hung between them. Then, without waiting for more formalities, she bent over, and taking her dress by the hem pulled it up and over her head.
John watched in mild shock and genuine amazement as his seventeen-year-old sister tossed the single garment aside and stood before him clad only in bra and tight panties and a garter belt from which black straps extended to pull the sheer nylon of her stockings tight to her well-formed legs. He had seen her in bathing suits a hundred times before, but until this moment had never thought of her with any degree of passion. She was always his kid sister, the girl who had screamed bloody murder when she was eight years old and he had walked into the bathroom by mistake when she was on the toilet. Then she had been shy and proper and all things lady-like, and now, seemingly in an instant, all that had changed.
Was it the heat that did it? he wondered. Or was it the fact that she had seen him about to attain complete fulfillment with Sue, that had so altered her personality?
As he stood in amazement watching her in the well-lit room, her hands again darted behind her back. An expression of twisted exertion crossed her face for a moment, then relaxed. In two quick easy gestures she shrugged out of her flimsy bra and stood naked to the waist before him.
Her breasts were larger than Sue's-much more mature and erect. The large nipples seemed to point directly toward the ceiling as if trying to draw the pale white flesh of the breasts themselves up and away from the torso that held them. A sharp outline enclosed her bust, making it stand out pale and white from a body that enjoyed savoring the beams of summer sun.
As he stood watching, she lifted her hands so that her palms circled under her jutting breasts to lift them even higher. She caressed them that way for a moment, before taking another pace toward him.
"Think they're pretty?" she asked.
He swallowed. He was embarrassed-completely impotent by her aggressiveness and forthright demands. "Yeah," he managed, as she took yet another pace toward him and stopped a bare foot in front of him.
"Shit!" she snapped. "You're supposed to be the big lover-boy all over town. Fucked every girl between here and Coresburg, tried to dick your kid sister, and then won't even touch my tits! Fine brother you are!" She let her hand drop, spun around and started toward where she had dropped her bra and dress a moment before. As she did so, John heard the mixed anger and rejection in her voice, caught the flood of frustrated tears about to break forth from her denial.
This time, he moved toward her and, just as she was about to bend over, circled one strong arm around her waist and allowed the other to cup the firm flesh of right breast. His hips, gently at first, pressed against the soft roundness of her firm buttocks, and the pressure increased as she leaned back into him, pressing her back against his chest, arching her chin up so that her golden hair tickled his ear and fell over his right shoulder.
"Oh, Christ, Johnny," she gasped. "Show me, do me. I'm dying for it ..."
Without answering he moved her gently toward the bed. He eased her down on the coverlet and stood for a moment over her, watching the agonizing plea in her eyes, the pained rise and fall of her huge breasts seeming like beautiful twin bombs about to explode with demanding desire. Then, still feeling no real stir of his own desire, he knelt beside the bed and slowly extended one hand to let the fingers touch first her slim stomach and then inch up along the underside of her left breast.
Her head propped up by the single pillow, she watched the movement of his hand as it eased slowly, maddeningly upward, teasing the flesh and denying the nipple satisfaction as it circled below in gradual, tantalizing motions.
As he toyed with her breast, he looked up to her face. She was breathing heavily through slightly opened lips. Her eyes seemed to be covered by a strange, hypnotic glaze as she watched every slow movement of his hand. It was not the feel of her warm, eager flesh under his touch, but rather the hungry, demanding look in her eyes and the sounds of expected ecstasy escaping from her parted lips that acted on his manhood. As he gently caressed her he could feel the first tingling throbs of erection stirring in his groin.
But he didn't want to rush the pleasure he hoped to have from her. He wanted to toy and tease until she changed from a demanding blackmailer to a begging girl consumed only by thoughts of her own physical gratification. Slowly, with deliberate stops and teases of her fingertips, he ran his hand over her breast, circling the erect nipple, teasing the areola but avoiding contact with the ruby red of nipple for almost a full five minutes.
Her breathing increased; her eyes seemed even more glazed than before as her hands reached up to clasp his face over the ears.
"Jesus, Johnny," she sighed, "you're driving me up the wall."
He didn't reply. He tried to control his own increasing desires as he now moved his thumb and forefinger to tease her nipple directly for a moment or two before finally lowering his head to draw the succulent, erect flesh into his mouth. He teased it gently with his tongue and teeth for a moment, then sucked hard on it to pull it and some of the smooth flesh behind it deep into his mouth.
There he savored and sucked-rolled his tongue over the delicate bud and around it as his left hand caressed her pulsating stomach and gradually worked its way first to her right breast and then down again over smooth responding flesh, over her pantie-clad hip and down to her knee.
Behind her knee where the perspiration of summer night and bodily anticipation had made the flesh sticky with its flow, he tickled the delicate nerves beneath the confines of nylon, ran his fingers up over the hot material until they reached the gap between stocking tops and panties. There, while still sucking heavily and deliberately on her left nipple, he allowed his probing fingers the thrilling sensation of the smooth flesh of her thigh and then a creep upward and under the tight hem of panties to feel the damp fur of her Venus mound. The hair was sodden with the flow of her desire, and even under the absorbent material of the panties he could tell that her want for him had enlarged her opening. Had she been standing, he knew, her flow would have fairly cascaded down her legs into her stockings.
She was gasping heavily now, her eyes barely open, mumbling half-words like, "Yes," and "Do it," and, "Oh, Johnny ... Jesus Johnny."
More annoyed with her than thrilled by his own opportunity to rid his lust in her throbbing flesh, he released her nipple and ran his fingers roughly from breasts to hips. There he thumbed his way into the band of her panties and tugged hard at the flimsy material, trying to draw it from her hot hips.
"No!" she said suddenly. "You can't."
He pulled again, this time with more demand, more force. "Thought that's what you wanted," he said.
"Oh, Jesus, Johnny. I didn't know it would be this bad. I do, but I can't. I gotta stay cherry. Don't you understand?"
And then a wild-a freaky, even-idea seemed to crash into his mind. Suddenly he wondered how a girl with this much desire, and this much control over herself because of outside pressures on her reputation, had managed to survive since her first budding interest in sex. Surely, he thought, she must have some way of satisfying herself; certainly she couldn't just go out with boys who aroused her and then do nothing about the kind of frustrations she must suffer. Now he could find out for sure. Even though it might mean denying himself, what difference did it make? He'd already come twice with Sue, and he knew she would be willing to couple with him again any time. He could afford to be mean to Ann.
"Okay," he said. "Do it to yourself then." He pulled away from her and sat on the bed for a moment before the full impact of his words seemed to register on her.
When they did she sat up, propping her torso on her elbows so that her huge breasts jiggled invitingly with the movement. "What?"
"I said, do it to yourself. I'll watch. I mean, after all, if you want me to show you all about this sex stuff without even letting me get started, you might just as well show me how girls do it. You said something about a candle-"
"No, I never!"
"What difference does it make?" He unzipped his fly, reached inside his trousers, and, after a moment of trying to disengage the turgid flesh therein from the pressures of his leg, was able to pull it forth so that it stood up like a tree growing from his lap. "I know you want this. You know you want it-"
"I can't. I'll get pregnant."
Then another wild idea came to his mind. "Hey," he said. "You show me how you do it to yourself and I'll show you how we can make it together so you'll never get knocked up no matter what."
She looked at him for a long moment before she replied. "Really?"
"Honest. No tricks."
"Okay, but you have to promise not to tell Sue or anybody."
"Sure."
Slowly, with a certain amount of doubt at first, she rose from the bed and stood beside him so that her hips were almost against his ear. As she stood there, his desire seemed to increase. He could smell the faint hint of subtle perfume coming from her legs and the material of her panties. He reached behind her and unsnapped the two catches of her garter belt and pulled on the tops of her stockings so that they hung over her knees.
She bent over so that her breasts hit his head and bobbed in front of his eyes, and she pulled the flimsy nylon the rest of the distance down her legs to puddle it on the floor between them.
When she rose again, he was looking directly at the blonde triangle of her Venus mound and the wet open lips mere inches before his face.
And in an instant, he forgot all else but the panorama of desire before him. Reaching his hands behind her thighs, he pulled her gently toward him as he extended his tongue to touch damp hair and wet flesh.
His hands slipped higher until the twin mounds of buttocks were fitted snugly under his insistent palms and her hips were forced tightly against his head.
There, as she gasped like one dying, he glued her tight to him as his tongue darted into the sweet opening of her womanhood, lifted up to slide easily over erectile clitoris, and then circled the little nipple to slide in again.
As his mouth and tongue worked desperately at her vagina and clitoris-as his hands cupped and caressed her buttocks-he could feel the increasing tremor of her body, the ripple of threatened earthquake about to destroy her sexual equilibrium. And then, suddenly, as if the very flesh she had been made of underwent a tremendous yet silent explosion, her legs began to tremble out of control.
She gasped and then she screamed. He could feel both of her hands behind his head, pulling on his hair, the fingers twisting and demanding as she cried out once, and then, as if shot in the head, killed on her feet, she collapsed to the room's floor.
It seemed as if his mouth was glued to her moist sexual lips. As she crumpled to the carpet, he held tightly so that he remained with her. She collapsed inert, yet he never ceased the swift, teasing movements of his tongue on her clitoris. He could feel by the throbbing flesh against his lips that she was rolling from within in uncontrolled multiple orgasms that threatened to drive her to momentary insanity.
Her head rolled on the carpet. Her hips thrashed against his, churning, pounding, crushing, threatening to break teeth and jawbone alike as her knees bent and straightened, bent and straightened and then finally bent again so that her legs laced wildly around his back drawing him even tighter than he had been moments before.
They lay that way for an eternity-he never ceasing the careful movements of his tongue, she still churning and thrashing, still pouring her sweet lubricating fluid over his eager lips. At last, however, while he still worked his tongue, her thrashing began to subside. Slowly at first, then decreasing even more until her body seemed only smitten by an occasional involuntary tic.
And finally, she lay still under him. Her chest still heaved; her hands still occasionally opened and closed, and when he lifted his mouth from her cavern of ecstasy, John noted that occasionally one of her feet would twitch.
He thought her breathing could be heard to the far ends of town, but he didn't care. That was the point, he thought. He didn't care anymore. There was no guilt, no thought of their blood relationship. He didn't care if Sue and Ann were his sisters. All he could think about was that he was in a house with two girls-one fifteen, one seventeen-and both of them were crazy for sex because they had denied themselves. One didn't know her denial, but he had taught her. The other, the one lying under him, her huge breasts rising and falling in her panting satisfaction, her open vaginal lips still dripping with the fluid of her own desire and his saliva, had tried to blackmail him, and yet he was the one who was blackmailing her.
He knew enough about Ann to realize that she had probably told him the truth. Most of her girl friends were so-called nice girls. She might have hated it, but she had to stay a virgin outside. Now, though, he realized that she would be his any time he wanted her, and because he felt a strange power and something else-something almost akin to contempt or hatred-he wanted to show her how much in command he really was.
The fact that she had just had her total satisfaction from him through the use of his tongue and lips, the fact that she was-at least for the moment-completely satiated with sex and the effects of her own several orgasms, didn't matter at all to him.
He was erect again. Her arousal had aroused him and, most of all, her response to the sexual acts she had denied herself with others had made her his mistress-maybe even his slave.
Roughly, without asking or talking, he rolled her almost unconscious body over so that she lay now on her stomach. He gazed for a moment at her slender back with the two white lines of bikini crossing it. He let his eyes linger at the inward sweep of slender waist, then touched the widening sweep of womanly hips below.
Almost roughly, he spread her legs apart so that he could kneel between them, and then, with his hands under her hips, pulled up and back on her pelvis so that even though her head still slumped forward the lower part of her body was in a kneeling position.
He found the entrance to the tight opening he sought, spread her cheeks and with slow determination forced his way into her anal orifice.
She jerked violently against the internal pressure, but did not seem to have the strength either to free herself from the demands of his impalement or even to cry out against the violation he was performing.
"Oh, Johnny," she gasped. "Jesus, not in my asshole!"
He reached his hands under her, now cupping both breasts in tightly squeezing fingers as he thrust hard into her entrails and then pulled back to thrust again. "Told you it wouldn't get you pregnant, didn't I?"
She gasped again, this time seeming to come slightly alive-to respond slightly to the thrusting in and out movements of his member as it lodged deep within her and then slid back only to crash even deeper with the next thrust. She squirmed her hips and pushed back as she rose to her elbows and then to her palms. He watched as she supported her weight on her left arm and reached behind to pull at his testicles.
He could feel her wet fingers gently caressing and squeezing his scrotum, and knew that between moments of touching his flesh they were tantalizing her own. She was masturbating herself, drenching her fingers and palm with the cascading liquid of her desire and then smearing it on his scrotum and thighs.
He held tighter to her breasts, kneading, clasping, pulling. He was in complete command of the situation now. His previous releases with Sue had deadened the eagerness of his desire. Now, he felt he could pound into her all night, move back and forth, in and out, as long and as fast as he wanted to without the threat of ejaculation marring the pleasure of the motions, the soft feel of her now-moving hips under him.
Man the dreamer ... man the sinner ... As the first thought of his own perpetual power struck him-as he realized that he could last forever without ejaculation-he also realized that the thought, the realization, was a sham. The wet fingers that had stroked his scrotum, the hot flesh that encircled his manhood, belied his conceited dream and brought to him the first tingling knowledge that again he could not deny the release that began to surge from within him.
He felt it move, slowly at first, from the very depths of his testicles, felt it creep along the complicated maze of tubing there and gradually come forward. Then it announced itself with sudden demand. He was almost jarred apart when the doors slammed open and the rush of his impermanence cascaded forth into her body.
With one final, ultimate thrust of dying energy, he pulled her sweating hips against him and thrust hard to bury himself deeply within her.
Then the flood exploded, there, and in his groin, and in his brain, all at the same time. The earth seemed a chip of wood in a maelstrom, the sky a slow-motion firecracker of dull lights and half-heard explosions, and then he was gasping for breath, collapsing heavily on her back, sliding her forward into the deep pile of the rug so that again she was face down and he sprawled only semi-conscious above her.
He lay there for several moments, savoring the sweet perfume of her hair, feeling the thin amalgam of her perspiration trying to lock him to her flesh. Finally, gradually, strength returned, and with a great, half-exhausted effort he was able to pull free of her flesh and rise to his knees.
Something, about what he had done now disgusted him. He had tried to prove a point and he had done it, but there was no real satisfaction in it now. Without speaking to his sister he walked out of the room to the upstairs bathroom, took soap and washcloth, and washed his genital area with meticulous thoroughness. He half realized that he would probably never have another erection again, but he didn't care. He was completely drained, completely exhausted, and yet completely satisfied-at least in a purely physical sense. After all, he thought, how many guys his age could have two women in the same evening, get all the oral and manual satisfaction they could and then do something like he had just done-and With their own sisters, too?
And then, looking down at his flaccid organ, wiping it one final time with the washcloth, he realized the irony of the situation. With all the experimenting, with all the indoctrination of Sue and the submission of Ann, with all the intimate knowledge of desire and bodies exchanged, he still hadn't experienced what he really wanted. He still hadn't had sexual intercourse with either one.
Now-and he mumbled an almost silent curse-he couldn't! He didn't think there was anything in the whole world that would make him rise again no matter what it was.
The thought of his temporary impotency annoyed him at first and then made him almost furious. He had tried to show his sister a lesson by his anal penetration, but she had received a good orgasm from his mouth and he had to content himself with second best. Now, even if she agreed to knock off her virginity campaign, he wouldn't be able to do a thing about it.
He tossed the washcloth up on the bathroom rack and, turning angrily, walked back to his own room.
Ann was lying on the bed. She had pulled the covers down but was still completely naked. Her eyes still seemed to be slightly glazed with passion, but there also seemed to be a slight, knowing smile on her petulant lips.
"Well," he said bitterly, "you got your come and you're still cherry. I hope you're satisfied."
"What's the matter with you all of a sudden?" she asked. "I didn't hear any complaints when you were pounding my ass a minute ago."
"Never mind," he said.
"Oh-" A long syllable of understanding slid from her parted lips. "I get it. Poor old thing's all tuckered out. Can't get it up again, is that it?"
"What's it to you? You got yours."
"What if I want more?"
He turned to look at her, saw the taunt in her eyes and realized that he had no more manhood left with which to satisfy her. He didn't even feel like doing anything more with her. He knew he could probably perform orally with her again, but with his last ejaculation the desire was now gone. All he wanted to do was go to sleep, to forget he even had a sister. And then, the thought he had had before buggering her came again to his mind. He had never seen a girl masturbate herself. Some-thing strange-almost perverted-in his mind wanted to see Ann give herself the ultimate pleasure as she had probably been doing for months, even years, without his knowing the degree of her passion. Finally, the thought took firm hold of him. It was kicky, kinky, wild, and somehow he knew now that she'd do it.
"What if you do?" he said. "You'll have to get your jollies by yourself."
She smiled. This time, it was no teasing half-movement of lips but a full, wide grin. "Want to sleep with me?" she asked. "I mean, all night?"
He shrugged. "Why not?"
"Okay," she said. "You go in Mom and Dad's room and get the bed ready. I'll be in there in a minute."
"What about Sue?"
"She's asleep, dummy. You know how late she'll sack in tomorrow. All we have to do is set the alarm and make the bed up."
He grunted with only partial enthusiasm and turned around. As he walked down the hall to his parents' room and the big double bed there, he heard the snap of the light turning off in his own room, the soft slip of his sister's bare feet on the hall carpet behind him and then faint, fumbled movements in her own and Sue's room at the other end of the hall.
He entered the master bedroom, flicked on one of the dim bedside lights, and pulled down the bedclothes on one side. He had just rounded the huge bed and was pulling down the sheet and coverlet on the opposite side when his sister came in. Both hands were behind her back, arching it so that her pale breasts seemed to jut even higher, and her triangular Venus mound seemed to proceed her, like a golden arrow, by almost a full inch.
Still with her hands behind her, she closed the door to the hall, turned the lock and then crossed to the big bed.
He slipped into his side as she sat down on hers and adjusted the pillow so that she could half-lie, half-sit beside him. It was only then that he saw what she had been concealing in her hands.
He looked at it without any mental frame of reference. It looked slightly like a flashlight, but had no glass. It was slightly curved and came to a tapered rounded tip which wasn't quite a point.
"What the hell's that?" he said.
"You don't really think I do it with a candle, do you?"
He grunted. He was only half-awake now. The hour, the heat, the physical exertions and draining he had experienced, were all drawing him away from consciousness, all trying to pull him into a totally exhausted sleep.
"It's a vibrator, silly. See ..."
She touched a switch on the side of the strange machine and he saw it begin to move slightly in her hand. The slight whirr of the electric motor seemed soft and far away in the big room.
He rolled on his side, cradling his sleepy head on his left bicep as she, bathed in the golden light of the single bedside bulb, lowered the machine to her leg. "See," she explained as she moved it along the flesh of her thigh with her right hand and gently fingered her labia with the fingers of her left, "it's sort of like getting ready for a while, like this ..." She moved the machine up over her torso, touching the delicate flesh of her breasts with its oscillating tip as she still played with her vaginal area.
He fought back the desire to sleep, as he looked from her contented, cat-like facial expression, then down to the slowly moving fingers of her left hand as they eased her vaginal lips open. He could see the first drops of welcoming lubricant begin to glisten on her fingers and then to give an oiled glow to the pink flesh. He watched fascinated as the lips spread open and outward, almost like a time exposure of an opening rose petal touched by glistening droplets of fresh garden dew.
"And then when it's all hot and ready ..."
He watched her lower the vibrator and she lifted her (now wet) left hand to caress her nipples. The machine touched her erect clitoris, hovered there for a long moment, and then she began to ease it slowly into her vagina. But she kept it barely inside her, only an inch or possibly less. He could see by the angle of the vibrator that she was holding it in such a way as not to enter her vaginal tract, but rather to titillate the delicately responsive nerves of her clitoris alone.
She was still trying to have her cake and eat it too, he thought. She wanted all the sex she could possibly get from man or machine, and yet she still wanted to keep her hymen intact so that she could tell the stupid clod she'd marry one day that she was a technical virgin.
And in the moment of realizing her plot, the halfway split between her desires and her actions, he thought of the nastiest trick he could. He would fix his hypocritical sister and fix her for good. He would ruin her damned virginity so she could never get it back again. He almost chuckled out loud, wondering how she would tell the lucky guy who thought she was cherry. Maybe that she broke it playing basketball, he thought. That's always a good one. Or maybe the old bit about riding horses. One thing was sure-she would never tell the poor jerk that her own brother busted her with her own vibrator as she was showing him how a horny girl does her own thing.
He fought back the desire to sleep and looked at her. The glaze was beginning to cover her eyes again. He could see the increasing degree of her response to the machine throbbing against her jittering clitoris.
"Bet that feels good," he said.
"Ummm."
"Tell me how it feels."
"Good, just yummy."
"You going to come off that way?"
"Sure."
"When?"
"I dunno. Soon. It's coming soon."
"You tell me when you start to come, all right? It's kicky."
"Ummm." She nodded her head slowly. He saw the faint detached expression in her half-closed eyes and the increased flutter of her left hand as it massaged the erect nipple of first one breast and then the other. He lowered his eyes to the vibrator and saw the tip of it jumping hundreds of times a minute against her sensitive clitoris.
Then he noticed that her breathing was coming faster and heavier. He moved his right hand so that he could stroke the inside of her thigh, so that he was within inches of the sensual machine pulsating against her eager, responsive flesh.
"You tell me when you're going to come," he said again, his eyes still darting from her pleasure-saturated face to her wet jiggling groin.
"Sure," she sighed. "Don't want to make it too fast. Want to hold off for a long time."
"Yeah."
Her mouth dropped slightly open and her tongue darted out to moisten her dry lips. He could see the slight increase and decrease of pressure as she moved the vibrator harder against and then away from her clitoris. He could sense her conflicting desires about the machine. On the one hand, he knew she wanted to rupture her hymen with it, to thrust it deep into the scalding cavern of her womb, ruin her virginity forever and yet experience a pleasure more intense and more satisfying than any she had ever known. On the other, he knew some strong sense of social consciousness held her back, forced her to perform a half-way masturbation on herself so as to keep her body technically pure for some vague unknown man who she might one day marry.
Watching her excite herself, thinking of what was going on in her mind and with her body, had a strange effect on him. At once it filled him with contempt for her and yet it seemed to be doing the impossible to him. Without intense desire, even with a slight degree of pain, he could feel himself rising again; it was a slow, gradual movement of blood flowing to his erectile tissues from some unknown source of energy deep within the secret confines of his own body.
Boy, he thought, this is really going to be something. I'm going to be able to do my prig sister in with her own tool and then ... the thought was almost too much to bear. He tried to keep his voice calm as he asked again, "You going to come?"
"Almost," she gasped. "I can feel it building. I can-"
He waited in an agony of suspense as her breathing increased even more. Her left hand stopped fluttering on alternate nipples and clasped the roundness of one breast firmly. Then he saw what he had waited for. Her eyes were shut tight, and he saw her teeth clench together and the slight-very slight-almost fearful ticking of hips.
In that first second of her solitary ecstasy, he moved with deliberate yet rapid motions. Raising his hand from her thigh he put it over hers, lowered the angle of the vibrator slightly, and pushed it hard with all the force he could muster.
He saw the machine disappear within her, heard her gasp-half out of agony, half out of unexpected, unimagined bliss-and then, in her ecstasy -unknowing, uncomprehending-he saw her clasp her legs tightly together, her hands between them as her knees lifted. Her mouth hung open now; her eyes remained tightly shut, and she muttered again and again, "Oh, God. Oh, God."
But as quickly as it had dominated her, the physical ecstasy left, replaced now with anger and terror. Seeming to forget the pleasure of the almost buried machine, she extended a finger and thumb into her vagina and worked feverishly for a moment, finally succeeding and pulling the still-pulsating machine out.
"Oh no!" she gasped. "My cherry. You! You broke it. You bastard."
She did not hit him, she was crying now, and he was watching her in delight. He was almost totally erect now and her tears were having a definite effect on him. Using his own hand to help speed the process of erection, he finally attained a state of turgid hardness he had thought impossible.
"So what?" he said as he rolled over and brutally spread her legs. "You like it, don't you? You can't get it back again. It's gone now forever." He forced himself between her open legs, held his member in one hand for a moment, and then almost brutally thrust it into her hot wet flesh, until it was completely buried in her molten desire.
"No!" she gasped. "Please, Johnny ... no ... we can't ..."
But her bodily desires would no longer bend to the will of her social education. Once the vibrator had plunged into her, exciting the delicate inner walls of her lover's passage, it had opened a vista of lust that could never be closed off again. Even as she pleaded with him to stop, she lifted her legs around his back and, bending her knees, pulled his body tight to her.
Her arms laced around his neck and her wet lips rose to meet his.
"Oh, God, Johnny," she gasped again and again. And then, "I love you, I love you."
This time, he actually did become the impossible machine he had hoped to be when he took her in his own room. Real desire-the kind that destroys the length of time for the act-had completely left him-had been drained from him by the night's previous acts. Now, through some sadistic accident, through the joy of knowing that she no longer had any excuse, he was erect and yet without fear of losing that erection through any ejaculation which might come too soon.
Apparently the vibrator had started an orgasm with her, and her realization of broken maidenhood had forced the gates of her passion to close. Now, they opened again. He could feel the tight pressure of her legs around him, could hear the gasping of her breath in his ear and feel the throbbing release of her tic-ing hips as they crashed up and down against his own.
He knew she was climaxing again, this time as a woman should, with a man inside her, but even after it was over, after her body seemed to relax for a moment, he knew there was more left in her. Now, if she would, he knew he was able to make her climax again and again-as many times as she possibly could before becoming completely exhausted.
He pushed the shaft of his organ high against her so that it would stroke the length of her clitoris as he pushed it back and forth within her now-almost-totally-liquid vagina.
She was pulling his hair, clawing his back and buttocks and almost breaking his back under the tight strangling pressure of her locked legs, but he would not stop thrusting.
"Oh, Christ! I'm coming! I'm coming again!" she gasped, but he only thrust more and harder, never ceasing. It was impossible, but it was happening.
And then, the third time, when her breath again came in hard agonized gasps, when her fingers again began to increase their demanding pressures on his back and through his hair, he knew his own end had come. Slower than before, seeming to come not from his groin but from his anus, he felt the almost-pain of it beginning to surge through him.
"Come!" he almost yelled in her ear. "Come again."
"Yes! Oh, God Johnny, yes!"
He increased his rhythm, thrusting now with hard fury into the gaping opening of her vagina, hardly feeling the loose walls around him, hardly hearing the strange sounds of air being pushed from it by the pressures of the throbbing piston of his penis.
And then, slowly, definitely, with something so close to agony, he seemed to be sucked away from himself. His backbone and lower spine seemed to crumble and pull away from the top of his head, and all sucked through his sexual tracts to explode out of him, tearing him apart, thrusting his entire body and soul deep into her demanding womanhood.
He grunted with the mixed pleasure and agony of it and she cried out. "Oh, God! Johnny!"
They writhed together fighting for the last essence of the mutual pleasure they had found together. He dug his toes into the lower part of the bed, trying desperately with the muscles of his legs to force himself even deeper into her than he was already.
She in turn thrust her hips hard against his, literally bruising his pelvis with the impact of her yearning. Her arms pulled tight around his neck, her breasts flattened hard against his chest. They squirmed and panted that way until ultimate exhaustion overtook them.
They lay inert for several moments, then she relaxed her legs to sprawl on her back. What little was left of his erection was still in her as he raised himself on both hands to look down at his sister.
She opened her eyes to him and smiled slowly. "Don't pull out," she whispered. She looked down over her sweaty, slippery breasts and glistening torso, to where their two sexes joined. "I never thought-"
"Like it?"
"Oh, Johnny. This is the most."
This time he looked from her smiling, satiated face, over the firm mounds of breasts jutting up from below him, to the moist patch where his penis disappeared within the pink wet lips of her vagina.
It was good, he thought, and now he didn't care. He was exhausted, but in a strange way he was also in love.
It never occurred to him-not then, not for some time-that there was crime in what they were doing. He didn't even think of the practical problems her pregnancy might produce. All he could think of was that she was beautiful and wild, and that she wanted him and liked the feel and look of him inside her.
He wished he could do it all again-that he was some kind of superman who could go on and on forever-but he knew the wish was an idle dream. This time it was certain. The night of sex was over.
Slowly, easily, he pulled away from her and rolled to his side. She turned to face him, laying one hand gently on the soft remains of his manhood. She smiled to him. "That's good, Johnny," she said. "Let's do it lots."
"Okay," he said.
"And just us. I mean, let's keep it in the family. No one will know."
"Yeah," he said. "You can tell the guy you marry that you busted your cherry riding a horse or something."
She rolled slightly to turn out the light. In the darkness he could hear her slight lazy giggle. "Some horse!"
She snuggled close to him, still resting her left hand lightly on his groin.
Outside, a slight, humid breeze rustled the curtains and the first drop of rain spatted to earth in their front yard. But he neither felt the breeze nor heard the beginning of the summer shower. He was asleep-drained utterly and entwined in the arms of a beautiful young woman.
That she was his own flesh and blood did not clutter his mind.
CHAPTER THREE
Morning came dull and grey, covered by the lazy sounds of heavy summer rain. John Brillard crept slowly into wakefulness, his first pleasant sensation the pressure of Ann's hand still on his groin, the sweet smell of her hair against his chest.
He opened his eyes slowly to look over the dim room and to glance at their naked bodies lying entwined on top of the pulled-down bed covers. The night's sleep had refreshed him, washed any of the anger he had felt the previous night from him, and filled him with a lazy sensuality.
Without moving more than his head and eyes, he looked to Ann's sweetly contented face, the closed eyes, and the half-parted lips that were almost, but not quite, lifted in a faint smile. She was lying on her side, but he could see the gentle curve of her left breast half-flattened under her and against him. He had never before realized how really beautiful his sister was. Looking at her in the dull early morning light, his emotions softened by the sound of a rain that experience told him would last the entire day, he almost felt sorry for her. She must have had a hard time with the boys she'd dated, and particularly with the one she had been going almost steady with for nearly three months. He couldn't imagine one of them not making at least some sort of pass at her. There couldn't possibly be a man alive who wouldn't have wanted to be where he had been the night before.
But he began to understand her ideas about social virginity, too. Somehow, he knew, she had given him something that she valued very highly, something which must be kept as their own private secret. She could tell whatever story she liked when she decided to get married, but as far as the world was concerned-as far as all her girl friends were concerned-she was still a virgin.
As he watched she stirred slightly, snuggled tighter to him for an instant so that the hot softness of her breast caressed his torso like a sensuous brand, and then, still with her eyes closed, she rolled onto her back. Now he could look from her face over her rising and falling bust with the erect pink nipples and the pale white flesh which she had covered from the sun, then down over gently muscled abdomen to the sweet triangle of golden fleece that sheltered the no-longer-secret spot of her passion.
He was so impressed by her beauty-by her nakedness and by his own desire to taste of her passions again-that he almost reached out to fondle her breasts with his hand. Then, perhaps because he felt an even greater sense of tenderness or because he wanted to experiment with his newfound sexual power, he glanced again to her Venus mound.
In the dull morning light, the silken hair seemed slightly less than golden, yet not quite possessed of enough red to be copper. It rose from the hillock of her flesh to twist and twine in a myriad of patterns-a sweet jungle or garden that had been planted over the opening to paradise. Beyond it he could not quite see the line of opening. The lips, no longer aroused, had closed in sleep so that the pinkness no longer showed, so that the sweet clitoris was again buried beyond the lips, soft guardianship, waiting for its next arousal.
And then he thought of the perfect act-the way to wake her from her delicate slumbers and rouse her to a day of passion. Their parents would be home the following evening. This would be their last complete day together without sneaking or hiding. Today, he knew, he and his sister-no, he thought again-his sisters, for he couldn't forget young adolescent Sue sleeping sweetly below on the back porch-would have all the freedom in the world to enjoy all the sex they could. Why not, he thought, begin a dawn of sweet and glorious passion as it should be begun?
Gently, slowly, a half inch at a time, he rolled away from his sister and slipped easily from the bed. Standing, he again looked at her sleeping form. She was on her back, one arm stretched out, the other at her side and her long smooth legs slightly parted so that he could drink in a clear view of her primary sexual parts.
Slowly, without for even a second taking his eyes from the silken triangle that protected her groin, he moved along the side of the bed to the foot and crossed around so that he was standing at the very bottom of her side of it. Then, with stealth worthy of a cat, he eased himself down on the bed, bracing himself on the prop of his left arm.
He lowered his head to look more closely at the seat of her desire. Now, as he inched closer, he began to see through the twisting vines of her hair to the tight opening which led to the river he sought. It looked so soft and delicate, he thought, and he wondered how so soft and smoothly rounded a part could be capable of such intense and violent passion. As he looked, as his head inched closer to his sister's groin, it was as if he were hypnotized, not only by the view directly before him but also by the sweet essence of sexual aroma that tingled against his nostrils.
Then, only an inch or two away from his goal, he stopped. Ann sighed in her sleep and moved slightly, only to return to her former pose, yet this time with her legs spread slightly wider. The invitation, whether intentional or not, was more than he could bear. He closed his eyes and lowered his mouth to her groin.
At first, he could feel only the barrier of her hair and the dry crease where her lips met and pressed together to protect the joys within. Then, extending his tongue slightly, he felt the lips open slightly under his gentle pressure.
With ultimate tenderness, he licked the full length of her lips from very bottom to very top, and then did the same thing again. This time he could feel the soft nub of clitoris begin to move up and out to meet him.
Above him, he heard a lazy groan. He knew she was now half awake, savoring the twin joys of lazy sleep and the added, more sensual, pleasure he was giving her. She moved lazily again, this time spreading her legs even wider so that he now had total access to her constantly opening vagina. He lay on his stomach between her legs, so that his own extended far over the foot of the bed, so that his head was now pressed firmly on her wet opening.
She groaned again as his tongue worked slowly up and down and around her ever more erect clitoris, and as he raised his hands above him to cup and fondle her breasts he felt the pressure of her own palms on top of them. She was awake now, but still enjoying the lazy sensuality of it as he began to move his tongue more rapidly in and out of the wet cauldron of her passion.
Above him, he could hear her soft groans and the continual purr of her pleasure. Her violence of the night before had changed completely. Now, it seemed she was totally content to be ministered to in this way. Something in her very lack of response seemed to increase his own enjoyment of the act as he gently pulled on her clitoris, sucking it between his lips, caressing the very tip of it with his tongue and then sliding his tongue down the full length of it and beyond, into the wide cavity there.
She was completely aroused now, her labia spread wide, her fluid flowing wet and slippery over his lips and cheek and jaw. Yet still she did not move in passionate response. Her legs remained still. The only movement was the pressure of her hands on his as they rested on her heaving breasts. The only sounds were the continual soft moans that escaped her parted lips.
Then he heard the one deeper, more intense gasp that escaped her, felt the series of tics that seemed to thrash from within her, and the hard, added pressure of her hips as they lifted high to lock to his mouth, held themselves there for an eternity, and then dropped back to the bed.
He continued for one more moment before, still with his mouth on her, he opened his eyes. He looked up over the soft expanse of stomach with its single mar of navel, higher to where his hands covered her breasts and hers covered his, and then to her head.
She had lifted it slightly, and was smiling down on him. Her tangled blonde hair, the slightly smeared mascara around her eyes and the remains of yesterday's lipstick, did not detract from her beauty. If anything, they gave her a look of passionate abandon which acted directly on his own desire.
"Ummmmm ..." she said, still smiling. "You sure know how to wake a girl up."
He darted his tongue deep into her again and let it slip out slowly and hard along the bottom length of her clitoris, before lifting his head and pulling away.
"Breakfast in bed," he laughed.
"Ummm," she said again as he rolled away from her and pulled himself up in the bed to lie beside her.
It was then that she pushed him on his back and twisted so that her breasts flattened against his chest. She lay over him like that for a long moment, looking down into his eyes, a strange expression that was half wonder and half complete submission in her blue eyes. Then, with maddening slowness, she lowered her mouth to his, pressing gently at first with dry lips, until her tongue eased out to caress and savor his own.
They kissed like that for almost a minute, moaning gently and twisting slightly so that their bodies could make added contact. Below, he could feel her gentle fingers exploring his groin, stroking his penis and scrotum, tingling added life into his parts.
Her hand ran up and down the length of his turgid shaft four slow times before she pulled her lips from his and leaned away. She lay on her side now, her weight propped on her right elbow as the fingers of her left hand played with his erect organ. She looked from his face to his groin and then back again.
"It's so big and beautiful," she said.
He didn't answer. He was looking at her hand moving along the length of his organ, exploring, testing.
He watched that way for some moments before pulling himself up on his own elbows. "Suck it," he said finally.
"What?" Her fingers stopped their movements, her eyes widened slowly.
"I did you."
"I didn't think you'd like-"
"Oh, I'd like. Don't worry about that."
"Ummm," she said as her fingers again began to slide up and down along the length of his hard flesh.
She adjusted her position in the bed and smiled again to him before lowering her head to his erection. As she did so, her hair fell over her face. He wanted to see her face as she took him into her mouth, and so he reached out a hand to move the hair back.
Her eyes were still open as he did so. He saw her look up to him as he felt the first hot wet pressure of her lips cover the very head of his organ.
"Ummm ..." she said again, still looking at him, but now she rested the side of her head on his thigh so that she could gaze up at him while holding the head of his organ in her mouth and caressing the base and scrotum with nimble fingers.
He watched as she slid her lips down, wetting the length of his penis, and then she clasped the base in one hand. He watched as her eyes, still open, began to take on a glazed, hypnotic look, and closed slightly.
He felt the hot pressure of her mouth on his, the occasionally almost painful scrape of her teeth. He curled his fingers in her hair, ran them down to stroke her back, and then slid them under her to cup the firm hanging flesh of one breast.
It was an agony, it was a pleasure as intense as any he had experienced-and it was too short lived. Even the exertions of the night before had not deadened his response. He knew in no more than an instant or two that he was going to ejaculate. He twisted slightly and knew that she knew it too. He watched as she slid her mouth down almost to the very base of his penis, felt the tip of it hit her throat and then saw her lift her lips away.
She hovered over it for a half-second, her hand moving fast along the wet length, and then he ruptured inside.
The short spurt of fluid popped from the tip and hit her just above the mouth. She watched it jump out, still moving her hand, and then, when it was gone, she again lowered her lips to the still erect organ.
He could feel her sucking hard now. It was painful, but it was good. She had wanted to see, he knew, had wanted to watch the spurt of ejaculation, feel the hot impact as it hit her face and then return to the pleasures she was experiencing before.
Finally, she rolled away from him and licked the semen from her lips before leaning again to kiss him on the mouth. But this time something about the idea of a kiss repelled him slightly. Maybe it was the idea of tasting his own sperm, maybe some sort of contempt for her after what she had just done-he didn't know. He rolled away from her and stood up beside the bed.
"Jesus," he said. "What if Sue knows we're here?"
Ann looked at him for a moment, then rose to stand on the other side of the bed. When she spoke there was a hint of ice in her voice. "Worried she'll be jealous?" she sneered.
"Oh, forget it," he snapped. "Let's get dressed and get some breakfast."
Together they pulled the covers of the bed up and remade it so that no hint of their night's activity was evident. Then, after a final inspection of the room, they unlocked the door and tiptoed out into the hall. He returned to his own room; Ann walked to the one she shared with her younger sister.
She was not only surprised but thoroughly embarrassed to find Sue sitting on her bed as she entered the room. There was nothing she could possibly say or do to hide what had happened. She was still completely naked. The facts were transparently obvious. Apparently, the night's rain had awakened Sue on the downstairs back porch, and she had returned upstairs to her room. While Johnny and she had been enjoying their oral activity in the parents' room, Sue had awakened, dressed, and remained waiting for them.
Caught in an embarrassing situation, Ann tried to appear as casual as possible. She said a cheery good morning to her fifteen-year-old sister, then without bothering to say to explain any more, walked to the bathroom and turned the shower water on.
She wasn't surprised to see Sue still sitting on her own bed when she returned. The sight of the girl, particularly with the knowledge that she was not teasing or accusing, now annoyed her distinctly.
"Well?" she demanded. "What's the matter with you?"
"Nothing," Sue said. "I just wanted to know what it's like."
"What what's like?"
"Oh, come on, Sis. You broke it up when he was just about to show me, and I know he did it to you."
Ann was trapped. She suddenly realized that no amount of bluffing would satisfy her sister's curiosity. "It's all right," she said without commitment.
"You mean you're not going to tell me, is that it?"
"There's nothing to tell, that's all."
"All right," Sue said. "I'll find out for myself." She rose from where she had been sitting, and walked out of the room and down the hall.
Too lazily satisfied both by the sexual releases of the night and early morning and then by the acute satisfaction of having her brother's organ in her mouth, Ann was still enjoying the sensuous residue of tingle from her shower. It was simply too much trouble to follow her sister. The morning rain, heavily beating a lazy tattoo on the roof above her, the complete sense of satisfaction and womanly fulfillment she felt, combined to make nothing important. She forgot about her sister and determined to take a long, slow time in dressing and arranging her hair.
* * *
John showered and dressed with more speed. He was already downstairs in the kitchen about to take some bacon from the refrigerator when Sue finally found him.
"What'd ya do?" the girl asked innocently.
"What do you mean?"
"You know. You and Ann?"
At first he tried to avoid her question, then stopped to look at her. She was dressed in blue jeans that hugged her slender yet gently rounded hips, and one of his old shirts that showed clearly that she hadn't bothered to put a bra on beneath it.
"We ..." He shrugged. "You know," he said, feeling hopeless.
"More than with me? I mean, did you put it in her?" She took a pace forward so that she stood now directly in front of him. Her hand reached out gently to touch his groin, to explore for a rise underneath the fabric of his trousers. He nodded his head.
She squeezed hard and then released as he cried out and took a pace backward. "That's not fair!" she said. "You told me you'd-"
He raised a finger to his lips. "I know, I know," he said. "Don't worry. Wait until I get some breakfast." He knew there was time. The idea of both of them wanting him was more delicious than any he could imagine. And then, as he pulled four strips of bacon from the package and placed them in a frying pan, he had the wildest idea yet. Each of them wanted him and he knew he'd have each of them again sometime. But it was raining. There was nothing to do but watch the television. Why couldn't they all have fun at once? Maybe he could even get his sisters to do girl stuff, maybe play with Ann's vibrator, or something like that? They could have a regular orgy.
He turned to Sue, now standing with an almost petulant expression on her face. He put one hand on her shoulder and let it slip easily down to caress the rise of one breast under the old white shirt. "Don't worry," he said, "we'll do it all the way. You just go along with it. Okay?"
"Sure, Johnny," she said. Now the expression in her eyes changed and again her hand stretched out to touch his groin. Her fingers sent a lazy tingle of desire through him. "Anything you say."
* * *
They were sitting at the small chromium and formica table, still enjoying the last of their breakfast, when Ann finally came down to join them. John didn't even wait until his older sister opened the refrigerator before announcing to her: "Sue's going to squeal."
Ann's eyes widened. She turned to look from Sue to her older brother. "What?"
John shrugged. "Simple," he said. "She knows about last night. I mean you and me, and she's going to tell Mom and Dad."
"You wouldn't dare!" Ann said to her sister. "Why, when I walked in here you and John were just about-"
"Wait a minute! Wait a minute!" John said. "There's no sweat. Like you said yourself, why not keep it in the family? Maybe we can all have some fun. I mean, it's raining like hell anyway. Why don't we play a few games so we can all enjoy ourselves?"
Again Ann looked from him to her sister and then back again. "You mean-"
"Sure, why not," John said. "I mean, what's the difference? As long as we all get our kicks, there's no point in anyone spilling any beans. Besides, you liked it, didn't you?"
Ann lowered her eyes. The gesture made her appear almost, but not quite, modest.
"And you?" John turned to Sue, "You had fun last night before old kill-joy walked in, didn't you?"
Sue smiled and nodded eagerly.
"Well then, why not?" John continued. "Let's have a nice leisurely breakfast, then figure out some games."
The girls both looked at him, Sue with an expression of eager expectation on her young face, Ann with certain doubt that took somewhat longer to fade. Finally the older girl nodded her head and turned to the refrigerator. Without speaking again, she prepared herself some bacon and eggs and joined the other two at the small table.
It was almost ten thirty when they finally left the table and started cleaning up the dishes and utensils in the kitchen. The rain was still pouring down outside, the house was still dull and dreary, yet the day was sparked bright by hopes and expectations of things to come.
John left the kitchen first and walked into the large living room where he pulled the drapes closed, turned on the lights, and before the girls finished drying the dishes stripped out of his trousers, shirt and underwear. He was sitting naked on the long couch when his two sisters came in.
"Hey Annie," he said, "why not go up and get that kicky machine you had yesterday?"
"Johnny! You wouldn't?"
"Why not?"
"Oh, all right," she said, and walked around the couch to go upstairs.
When she had left, John motioned to Sue to come over and sit beside him on the couch. Without speaking, he took one of her hands and placed it gently on his soft member, as with his other he began to unbutton the shirt she wore to reveal her pert, adolescent breasts. When he pulled the shirt material aside and began to fondle her nubile flesh, it seemed more hard than firm. Her breasts had not yet attained their full growth, and their small nipples seemed still struggling from within to push forward: the hard flesh around and behind them seemed eagerly waiting to expand yet another two or three inches.
Still without words, he continued to fondle her breasts with one hand, while with the other he gently pulled her head down over his semi-erect organ.
This time she made no protest. It was almost eagerly that she took it into her mouth and began to run her tongue over and around the gradually hardening flesh of his member. They were sitting like that, he with his head thrown contentedly back savoring the hot sensations of her lips covering him, she eagerly sucking and pulling on the flesh of his penis, when Ann returned to the room.
He opened his eyes to see her, still fully clothed, an expression of mixed indignation and physical arousal on her face. He watched her for a moment, then beckoned her toward him with his free hand as he slipped his tongue out of his mouth.
The message was unmistakable, and she understood it immediately. Yet she still stood a moment in front of them, the vibrator in her hand, before giving an almost hopeless shrug. She fluffed her hands under her skirt, gave a little twisting jerk, and a moment later pulled a pair of flimsy panties down the length of her legs. Then, still fully clothed except for the undergarment, she crossed to the couch and kneeled on the other side of her brother.
It was she who lifted her skirt high to throw it over his head, he who pulled her tight against his hungry mouth with one hand as the other kneaded the firm flesh of Sue's budding breast.
He reclined there savoring the dual pleasures of one sister hot and wet against his mouth, his eager tongue again savoring the cavern of her insatiable desire, while his own organ was alternately hot and cool as his other sister's mouth rose and fell along its length. It was all too good to be true, and he wanted to ejaculate right away; but something in his instinct told him that if he did he would be powerless as a man for some time.
He wanted to enjoy the whole day-to be able to do everything without weakening. Almost roughly, he pushed Ann away from him and pulled his own organ away from Sue's eager mouth.
"Hey," he said to the startled girls. "We don't want to go too fast. Sue's got a lot to learn first. Show her that thing of yours, Ann."
This time, there was no hesitation on the older girl's part. She lifted the vibrator from where she had dropped it on the couch, and telling Sue to remove her jeans and panties, turned it on as she waited for her. When the younger girl had stripped completely naked, revealing long, tapering legs, the first adolescent sweep of slender hips, and the only half-grown tuft of down-like pubic hair, Ann told her to sit beside her brother on his left.
"I'll show you how to get some real kicks without breaking your cherry," she said, still fully clothed as she knelt on the carpet between them. With both hands, she gently spread her sister's adolescent labia apart until she found the budding nipple of clitoris. She extended one finger tentatively until she was sure of where the hymeneal barrier might be, and then in slow gentle movements touched the switched-on electric vibrator to Sue's outer lips.
Sue squirmed slightly away, then moved back. "Oh guy!" she said. "Kicky."
Still moving slowly and deliberately, Ann eased the vibrator over and around her sister's vaginal lips until finally, with a slight little dip, she slid it partially into the open cavity. She angled the tip up and, holding the machine in her left hand, pressed it gently yet firmly against Sue's clitoris.
"Oh guy!" Sue said again as she began to feel the full sensual impact of the oscillating machine against her most delicate nerve endings.
Ann then removed her right hand from the machine, holding it only in her left, and she looked up to John smiling down on her. He had a complaisant grin on his face, seeming a thin Buddha with a high erection swaying slightly in front of her eyes.
This time it was Ann who felt the hurt and the anger toward her brother. She took his penile shaft in her right hand and, maintaining a constant pressure on her sister's clitoris with the vibrator, clasped John's organ firmly. She began, slowly at first and then with ever increasing rapidity, to move her fist up and down along the shaft of his organ.
As the groans increased, the expression of lust and power on Ann's face seemed to intensify. The vibrator pressed ever more firmly against her sister's delicate nerves; her right hand moved ever more rapidly up and down along the length of her brother's penis. Their breathing increased until they were both panting, their bodies twisting and writhing on the couch before her, and then, finally, each gave a convulsive groan. Sue twisted violently and grabbed the vibrator with both hands as the spurt of John's semen shot up and out to cover his stomach and thighs with a milky grey fluid.
Ann gave two more hard tugs to his penis, feeling the sticky fluid under her fingers now as it lubricated them against the hard flesh. Then, suddenly, she let go of both penis and vibrator, rocked back and stood up.
She was still fully clothed. Her hands rested on her wide hips and her back was erect, giving an arrogant jut to her large breasts.
"Mr. Organizer," she sneered at her brother. "Now let's see what a big man you are in a three way dealie."
In the intensity of his pleasure, John had not stopped to realize the trick his sister had pulled on him. By bringing him to orgasm the way she had, she had not only paid him back for the brutal violation of her anus the previous night, but had made him-at least temporarily-unable to enjoy any but the purely visual aspects of the games he might have wished to play. She now stood before him with an expression of amused contempt on her beautiful face. She was taunting him, he knew, but somehow, at least for the moment, he didn't care. He savored the sweet release of his passion, put one arm over Sue's slim shoulders, and let the fingers dangle down to caress gently the taut flesh of her right breast. She, in turn, had thrown her head back against the rear of the couch and was still holding the vibrator tight to her clitoris, whispering, "Oh, guy! Guy!"
Ann was the first to realize the futility of her gesture. She had tried to humiliate both of them, but had only succeeded in giving them intense satisfaction, yet she knew she couldn't stop with just that. As their consciousness began slowly to return, she raised her hands from her hips, and with the slow, deliberate gestures she believed a striptease artist might use she began to twist and sway slightly as she unbuttoned first one, then another, button of her blouse.
Reaching the bottom, she gradually eased the fabric up and out of the waistband of her skirt, and slipped her arms through it so that she stood with her torso only partially covered by the flimsy material of her bra.
Then still using the slow deliberateness of a professional dancer, she unzipped the side of her skirt, turned completely around and let the light fabric puddle to the soft pile of living room carpet.
Their eyes were both on her now, John's showing something like awkward and hopeless anticipation, Sue's something close to disbelief.
She turned again so that her back was toward them, fumbled her arms behind her to unsnap first one, then two, and then the final catch on her bra. She slipped her shoulders through the thin straps, pulled the garment free, and stood there another moment before turning to reveal her large, firm breasts. She cupped them in her hands and took a pace toward her naked brother.
"Bet you'd like to be able to do something, wouldn't you?" she taunted. "Bet you'd like another hard-on."
"Gosh," Sue said. "They're big. You think mine will be big like that one day?"
Ann turned to her sister, saw the wide-eyed innocence of her expression, and took a half step to the side so that she stood in front of her. "Want to feel?" she asked.
Sue extended her right hand, slowly at first and then with more deliberation, until the fingers rested lightly just above Ann's left nipple. The tingling sensation that shot through Ann from the simple light touch was more than she could ever have imagined. Just the featherlike contact of her kid sister's fingertips on the hot flesh of her breast sent a surge of desire through her, more than any she had felt for John the previous night. She put her hand over Sue's and pulled it down so that the fingers now touched her nipple. They stayed there for a moment, immobile, before beginning tentative experimental movements
It was too much-something completely unexpected-and it sent a shiver of guilt through Ann. She stepped back, looking down at Sue with sensuous amazement in her smoldering eyes.
It took almost a full minute before she was able to control herself sufficiently to regain her aplomb. Internally, emotionally, she was never able to regain it. She took another pace backward and again began swaying her hips slightly as she looped her thumbs into her pantie tops. She could feel herself oozing wetness now, knew that the fabric of her panties was already almost sodden at the crotch, but she no longer cared. She was enjoying the tease.
Slowly turning, swaying, bumping and grinding, she eased her panties below her waist, caressed her own breasts and stomach and teased mercilessly, as inch by slow inch she eased the delicate fabric below her hips and then down her long, slender legs, until finally she stood absolutely naked before her brother and sister.
"Guy!" Sue said again. "You sure are built."
Ann looked at her wide-eyed sister sitting on the couch before her. They had lived in the same room ever since their parents had bought the house three years before, and yet neither one had ever seen the other naked until the previous night. Modesty, middle-class morality, whatever had dominated the household until that fateful time, and had kept them always covered in each other's presence. Now she knew that in a wild moment all that had changed. Every buried sexual desire that she had never admitted-indeed, never known to have existed-was now between them as naked as they.
The thought was horrifying, but she could not control it. She, too, looked at Sue's young nubile body, caressed it with lusty eyes and without quite knowing the cause of surging emotions within her desired it.
She walked the two paces to the couch, pulled her sister erect with one hand and saved the vibrator from dropping with the other. As both girls finally stood facing one another, they seemed to act in a blind sensuous haze, as if mesmerized by the lust that hung between them.
Their hands reached out to caress breasts and then slowly, as if in a dream, they moved forward until their torsos pressed hard together, flattening breast against breast, crushing hip against hip, pubis against pubis.
It was Ann who broke the caress and pulled her sister down to the floor. Sue sat cross-legged, watching as the older girl still fondled one of her breasts but now took the vibrator, switched the machine on and slowly inserted it inch by slow and ecstatic inch into her gaping femininity.
John and Sue watched fascinated as the long vibrating machine gradually disappeared between Ann's spread legs until no more of it was visible. The girl then reached up to her sister, pulled her gently on top of her, and spread her own legs so that their posture now was one of heterosexual intercourse.
"Hump me, baby, hump me hard," Ann murmured as she wrapped her long legs over her sister's back and pulled her tight to her writhing body.
John watched, still fascinated, as his two sisters twined together, planting heavy wet kisses on each other's breasts and lips and ears. He had never imagined anything like it. The agonized twistings of their bodies, the fervent writhings of their hips and torsos, were something out of an Arabian dream. It was as if both of them were completely out of control-that each could think of nothing, could feel nothing, but total animal lust that had to be satisfied immediately even if death or total destruction proved the ultimate result.
The low inchoate groans escaping Ann's lips caught and stopped for an instant, and then, low from the very depths of her being, a slow siren sound began to build until it rose to fill the room with a hideous scream that actually seemed to climb the walls and echo from the ceiling. He watched her hand entwined in Sue's hair pulling with brutal abandon as she still continued the scream that finally reached an ear-shattering peak and seemed to return the way it had come, sliding down and away from the ceiling, down the walls, and finally disappearing in her own lungs as if swallowed by the sheer intensity of the pleasure she had experienced. It ended as it began, in slow, twitching grunts and half-words, in a continued churn of female against female flesh.
He watched amazed as the girls remained locked in each other's fervent embrace for several long moments before slowly parting. Exhausted, sweating heavily, her eyes still glazed in amazement at what her young, inexperienced body had accomplished for her sister, Sue rolled free first and lay panting beside Ann on the carpet.
As if from miles away, John could still hear the faint whirr of the vibrator still moving within the wet confines of his older sister. He started to get up to see if he could free it, but before he could move, Ann moved her arms as slowly as if they had turned to lead, and with the gestures of a far older person finally succeeded in reaching the widely spread lips of her vagina. She fumbled for a moment and explored, and then, with some degree of painful effort, finally managed to slip her fingers within and free the machine from its delicious confines.
"Jesus," she said at length."Jesus."
They remained that way for some time-tire two girls on the floor, John still sitting on the couch-until Sue struggled to her feet and crossed to where her brother sat. Looking down on Ann, it seemed that she was totally, completely exhausted, and had fallen into a contented sleep.
Sue sat down beside her brother. "Is that what it's like with a man?" she asked. "I mean, if you put it in me will I go all freaky like that?"
He looked to her, smiling slightly. This time knowing that he would be able to have another erection soon after the sweet touch of her flesh on his. "Sure," he said. He reached out and took her hand in his. "Let's go upstairs. I'll show you lots better things."
* * *
Once again in his parents' bedroom, once again stark naked as he had been the night before-yet this time with a far younger partner-John contented himself first with examination. He had Sue lie down on the wide bed, legs spread so that he could run his eyes and then his fingers over the firm curves of her adolescent body. In the dull light of rainy day he could see far more of her form than was available to him the previous night on the back porch. She was so young, he thought, so perfectly formed, so unspoiled by anything that even hinted at the full-blown look of mature women. Her hips were flared, but not overly wide. All things of a woman were with her, yet all things of the child, too. He touched every part of her eager form from the soft silk of her hair down over hard breasts and finally even caressed the flesh of her feet.
Then he began to kiss her, first the tops of her feet, up along her calves, behind her knees and easily over the insides of her thighs. He hovered over her vagina, kissing only her hips to either side, avoiding it completely as he worked his mouth over her stomach, up along the undersides of her breasts, over the nipples, and along her shoulders and neck.
There he played his tongue over her jaw, avoided her lips, and worked backward to her ears.
She was panting heavily as he increased his attention. He rested the firm erection of his penis on top of her Venus mound as his tongue explored her ears for long minutes of ecstasy, before moving to caress her eyes and settle heavily with intense demand on her open lips. They parted willingly so that their two tongues entwined together.
Still his penis rested on her pubic mound, and he could begin to feel the slight involuntary tic of her hips pressing up against his. His hand slid down over her breasts, fondled and teased for a moment before his lips slowly followed, sliding over jaw, down neck and over chest, until they found the erect jut of one savory nipple.
There he kissed and sucked and nibbled as his left hand moved lower to explore the opening of her seat of passion. It was open and wet, eager for his entrance, yet so much tighter and smaller than his other sister's that he almost wondered at the pain he was going to cause. But then, with her eager breasts under his mouth, her demanding hips moving against his hand, he forgot, her possible discomfort. All he wanted was her total surrender, her total desire for him and his body surging within her.
He slid his mouth lower, caressing stomach and navel, again circling the soft tuft of silken hair that surrounded her beckoning lips. But this time he didn't finish his ministration with teasing. He forgot the thighs, and after a moment of nuzzling and fondling slipped both his finger and his tongue into the eager opening.
With tongue sliding over the almost hard clitoris, he explored below with his finger trying to determine the hardness of hymen-the difficulty and pain their union would cause.
It was there, but it seemed to give slightly under the pressures of his finger.
"Oh, Johnny," Sue gasped. "I'm coming off again."
"Do it!" he mumbled into the hot cauldron of her slopping vagina. "Do it good."
He could feel the convulsions within her, the slowly increasing tic of her insides as the floodgates opened and the consummation of her passion began to pour forth in a tidal wave of impossible pleasure.
He slipped his palms under her slender buttocks, pulling her lips tight to his, and sucked and drank the sweet fluid that poured from within.
And then, it was over. She slumped back against the bedclothes sighing and gasping. He rolled away from her, pulled himself up, and lay on his back beside her. Now, he knew, she was satiated, yet he had risen again, was completely hard and eager for total intromission.
As she lay panting beside him, her eyes closed in the intensity of savored pleasure, he considered the futility of it all. She'd had hers again, and he was still left hanging. Almost with a feeling of disgust at his own desires, he took his penis in his right hand and started to move along its shaft.
He had only made one simple movement before she stopped him with a touch. "Don't, Johnny," she said. "Put it in me like you were going to last night."
"Might hurt," he said without conviction.
"I don't care," she said. "I want it there."
He was tired, looking down to his erect organ and then over to her beside him. "Here," he said. "I'll make it easy for you. You get on top."
"Me?"
"Yeah. Straddle me, then you can put it just where you want it."
She rose slowly on the bed, looked down at his huge penis for a doubtful moment and then swung one leg over his torso. She knelt that way looking at him for a moment before reaching down to take the shaft in both hands. She smiled as she squeezed it affectionately once and then inched up so that she hovered directly above it.
"Just put it where it feels good," he said, "and then sit down."
Slowly she placed the very tip of his penis against her vaginal lips, moving slightly, perhaps afraid, perhaps teasing for a moment until she adjusted it slightly so that the head alone sank into the hot confines of her organ.
"Will it hurt bad?" she said, both hands still holding him.
"Not bad," he said, his eyes glued to the point where their sexes now touched.
"Put your hands on my shoulders, Johnny."
He raised his hands to place both palms on her shoulders.
She smiled down at him for a long moment before she said, "Okay, Johnny. All at once. Now! Pull!"
With one complete and full gesture she forced herself down impaling her tight virgin organ on his shaft. As she did so, he pressed with his palms on her shoulders and then both of them remained motionless.
Her eyes were closed. Her teeth clenched and he now slid his hands from her shoulders down over her breasts so that his fingers could play with her erect nipples.
Finally, after a long hot time of unmoving burial within her, he saw her eyes open and the clenched muscles of her jaw relax. "It wasn't bad," she said. "It didn't hurt bad at all."
"Ride," he said. "Ride on it like a horse."
Slowly, like a great train easing out of a never-again-to-be-seen station, she began to tic her hips against his, swaying easily from side to side, using the full knowledge of generations of women before her. Above him, he could see her smiling down to his face as her internal muscles clamped tight and then released his flesh within her.
"Know something?" Her voice was calm, more mature than he had ever heard it.
"What?"
"I'm going to come off again, Johnny. I'm going to come off for you. It doesn't hurt at all anymore. It's good, real good."
Now she stopped swaying from side to side and began to lift and lower herself on her knees so that alternately he could see the auburn of her scant hair pressed to his darker thatch and then the half glistening shaft of his penis as it was released from the tightness of her confining, demanding tunnel.
He lowered his hands from her breasts and clasped her around the buttocks as she leaned forward so that her breasts hung scant inches in front of his face.
"Oh, Johnny," she gasped. "Come off with me. Shoot it way up inside me. I'm doing it, Johnny. I'm doing ..."
Thrusting wildly with her hips, she fell forward so that her torso flattened against his. He thrust up to meet her and with a suddenness he hadn't known before-without warning-his testicles seemed to explode, showering him with sweet splinters of the most intense pleasure he had ever felt in his life.
It was blinding, it was maddening, it was all things perfect at once. She was wild and wanton and seemed to know more by instinct than Ann would ever learn.
They churned tight together, body against body, forming one writhing animal lost in the blind throes of forbidden passion, from which neither one of them could ever completely escape.
Long after both had had total release, long after the desires of their bodies were eased and gone, they clung together, twisting slightly, smiling and caressing. Then, finally, she rose again to her knees and slowly lifted herself away from the remnants of his manhood still buried within her.
"Just think," she said as she slid her left knee over his legs and knelt beside him. "It will never hurt again. Isn't that wonderful?"
"Yeah," he said. "Wonderful."
"Oh, Johnny!" She clapped her hands together like the child she no longer was. "I'm so happy. I'm so grateful!"
She leaned over to lift his flaccid penis away from his lower abdomen and held it in her hands for a moment before smiling broadly and shaking her head from side to side. "Oh," she said. "You wonderful, wonderful thing."
And she leaned over and kissed his wet penis as she might have kissed a favorite doll, nuzzling it with her head and lips until she lay relaxed, her head on his thighs, her hands still touching the organ that had given her so much pleasure, and her eyes staring devotedly up to his.
Then satiated, exhausted, her eyelids drooped and she fell into a contented sleep.
He stroked her head for a moment before he realized how exhausted he himself was. Then his hand dropped to his side and they slept together-boy and girl ... man and woman ... brother and sister ...
CHAPTER FOUR
Exhausted, drained by both her physical and emotional experienced, Ann remained naked on her living room carpet for almost a full hour before she finally reached for her discarded clothing. She was just about to start dressing when she realized the futility of it. What had happened could not be changed and she knew it would happen again. With a sense of exhausted wonder, she realized that she desired the sweet young adolescent flesh of her kid sister as much-perhaps even more-than that of her virile brother.
She rose slowly to her feet, felt the India-rubber muscles of her legs almost give way under her weight, and then crossed to the couch. There she sat down and reached over to an end table where several cigarettes stood in a small cup.
Still trying to analyze her strangely new yet conflicting emotions and needs, she lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply.
What had happened, she wondered, to make her feel as she did? With all her desire drained by her last, so totally complete orgasm, she still carried a mental vision of Sue's delicate young body with her. Maybe that's why she had been so mean the night before, she thought. Maybe it wasn't actually her desire for male attention that had made her interrupt her brother and sister, but instead pure jealousy.
She inhaled again and looked down to her own large breasts and the triangle of almost blonde hair below them. She ran her left hand over her bust and then down over her stomach to flatten the palm against her impossibly hot groin. Yet all she could think of was Sue's smaller endowments, the scalding pressure of them against her body a few minutes before, and the hot tic of adolescent hips against her own.
The vision of Sue's pink vaginal lips hovered before her mind's eye, and her fingers tingled with the memory of pressing the vibrator there. John had licked her awake earlier in the morning. Now she wondered what it would be like if Sue pressed her own pert mouth to her center of desire. Worse, she wondered what Sue might taste like-what it would be like for two girls to really make love all the way so that each could savor the ultimate passion of the other and rise to total, complete orgasm like no man in the world could bring to them.
In confused frustration, she took a final deep drag of the cigarette before grinding it out in the ashtray beside the couch. She knew she had to sort her thoughts, had to analyze her conflicting feelings before she could even hope to understand the full importance of what was going on inside her mind.
Still ignoring her clothing, she rose from the couch and started toward the kitchen. She had just put a teaspoon full of instant coffee in a cup and placed a kettle of water on the range to boil when the hard jangling of the telephone shattered through the house.
The sound terrified her. Even since the previous night, she had been living in the mistaken notion that the house and the other two people in it was somehow isolated from any part of the real world. Now, in one frightening ring, the world had cut through her isolation.
She waited in indecision for a second. The telephone rang again. The terror increased. She hadn't thought of John and Sue. What if John answered first on the other phone and tried some more of his sex organizing? The way he was going, he could only bring about complete disaster.
Almost overturning the kettle of water, Ann dashed from the kitchen and grabbed the receiver from the living room telephone. She waited a long moment before she spoke.
It was Harry Morton, the boy she had been dating almost exclusively for three months. He wanted to know if he could come over and see her.
Again almost torn completely in half, wanting some of the sanity that Harry brought her, yet still unable to rid her mind of the vision of Sue's young, eager body, she fought for control and finally lost the battle to her own powerful lust. She told Harry she was too busy to see him-that her parents were due home early-that a lot of things had to be done before they came. She promised to see him on Monday and hung up.
As she stood over the telephone, biting her lower lip in an agony of indecision, she realized what she, had done. She had foregone her only chance of freedom from her desires for Sue. She had reminded herself of the shortness of time-had virtually committed herself to the depths of depravity she now knew she would sink to with her own sister.
Visually trembling, she returned to the kitchen, took the now whistling kettle from the fire, and poured the boiling water over her coffee. Without bothering to add sugar or cream, she lifted the steaming cup to her lips and puckered them out to taste the first scalding touch of liquid.
She wondered why she was hesitating. She knew she had to have Sue and yet she was procrastinating. But it wasn't as if what she was thinking about was so entirely new. Hadn't she already shown Sue how to play with the vibrator? Hadn't they already humped together on the living room floor? Hadn't-
And then, strangely and for the first time, she realized that Sue was not there. Like the shock of an unexpected explosion, she knew where her sister was. Her brother had reached her first! A horrible rage consumed her. She had a mental vision of John's long, hard penis pushing its way into Sue's virginal opening. It was too much. She put the coffee cup down. Now it was no longer pure lust. It was a crusade. She had to save her sister from the disgusting lusts of her brother.
She turned from the kitchen and walked through the living room again, ignoring the pile of clothing on the floor. Slowly, with the determination of a professional killer, she climbed the stairs and, as if driven by some extra-sensory radar, walked directly to her parents' room.
The door was open. Apparently neither one had bothered to think of privacy in consummating their lust. John lay on his back, snoring slightly. Sue was curled on her side, her head resting on her brother's groin so that her long auburn hair covered his sexual parts.
Ann stood in the doorway for some moments, letting her eyes drink in the innocent beauty of her sister's form. Then, slowly, she moved forward and almost shyly reached out her hand to brush her sister's hair back. Leaning over her nubile form, she could now see that Sue's mouth was pressed gently against her brother's relaxed penis-a slight, almost baby-like smile hovering on her sensual lips.
For a fleeting instant, the vision brought a twinge of jealousy to her, but then the feeling relaxed to form one of constantly growing desire. She moved her fingers gently in Sue's hair until the younger girl finally stirred and opened her eyes.
For a moment, she seemed only aware of the male sexual organ beneath her. She squirmed slightly, nuzzling her face against it-puckering her lips in a lazy kiss until she became aware of her sister standing over her beside the bed.
Sue started to form a word on her pert lips, but Ann raised one finger to her mouth for silence. In pantomime gestures, she motioned Sue to get out of the big bed and follow her.
Obediently, with only a slight, fleeting expression of reluctant regret, the adolescent girl rose from where she had been lying and followed her sister out of the room. John grunted once and twisted in exhausted sleep, then returned to his snoring.
Still with the stealth of a thief, Ann closed the door behind her and tiptoed down the hall to the room she shared with her sister. There, again raising one finger to her lips, she closed the door and then turned to gaze hungrily at her younger sister's beautifully slender form.
"He fucked you, didn't he?" she said at length, letting her eyes roll from pert erect breasts, down over flat stomach to the little tuft of auburn hair at the top of gently rounded legs.
"Oh," Sue said, one hand pressing against the gentle curve of her groin, "it was the greatest. I came off twice. It was too much."
"I suppose he ate your box, too," Ann said, barely masking a sneer.
"Yeah, but I like it better when it's all up in there."
"He doesn't know what he's doing," Ann said as she took a pace toward her sister. She let her hands inch out until her palms circled the younger girl's waist. For a moment she stood looking into Sue's eyes, her palms caressing the gentle swell of hip then sliding upward, finally to move under the pert jut of budding breasts.
"He doesn't?"
"Honey," Ann purred, "don't you know only another girl can really understand what really feels good? He's a boy. All he thinks about is getting his own jollies. With you and me, we could really have a good time."
Sue moaned and looked down at her sister's hands gently massaging her small breasts. "Oh," she sighed. "That's good. I like it when you feel me like that."
Without answering, Ann gently pushed her sister back toward one of the two beds in the room. As the younger girl's knees made contact with the bed, she stopped, remained standing for a moment, then finally sat down.
Ann leaned over her, still gently touching the soft flesh of her breasts, but this time Sue lifted her own hands to cup the heavier flesh of her sister's far larger mounds. "Ummm ..." she moaned. "You feel good, too."
"See what I mean about girls being better?"
Sue continued to fondle her sister's breasts as her own, in turn, were gently manipulated. Her breathing was slightly heavier than normal despite the slight expression of doubt that flickered across her face. It was obvious that she was at once experiencing intense pleasure because of the mutual stimulation, but also doubtful as to whether the pleasure she might feel with Ann could ever equal the orgasm to which her brother had brought her that morning and the night before.
"It's good," she murmured, "but I still like that big thing in me."
Ann forced her down on her back. "I'll put something even better in you," she snapped as she climbed onto the bed so that she knelt over the girl, her head toward her sister's feet.
At first she contented herself with remaining there motionless, gazing longingly at her sister's gradually opening vagina, then, still with her elbows straight-still looking at the pink young flesh below her-she gradually let her knees relax until her own organ hovered mere inches above her sister's mouth.
"Want to make it?" she asked. She could barely control her voice now, the desire had become so intense within her. "Want to swing together?"
She waited an eternity for Sue to reply and then felt, rather than heard, the response. The pressure, cold at first, of small palms slid up along her thighs, slowly but with demanding determination until they reached her buttocks and cupped the flesh gently under them. Then she could feel the pressure increase as Sue pulled gently toward her, forcing Ann's hips down centimeter by slow centimeter.
Still bracing her torso on the props of her arms, Ann allowed her hips to sink down and down until she could at last feel a soft, gentle movement against her pubic hair. The stimulation-the anticipation-was almost more than she could bear. She bent her arms until she now rested on her elbows, her own face mere inches from her sister's widely opened vagina.
Then she felt the first shock of tentatively exploring tongue as Sue lifted it to meet her. She could no longer control herself. She allowed her hips to fall completely, heavily, on top of Sue's face-felt the full thrust of adolescent tongue as it shot up hot and wet to explore the secret confines of her most sensitive part.
She remained for a second more staring at Sue's open love channel before the horrible sexual greed she had so long denied herself finally consumed her utterly. Then, like someone literally starving, she dropped her head to her sister's vulva area, plunged her tongue into the molten cavity there and began licking and kissing with animalistic abandon.
Each girl now clutched the other tight to her as they rolled sideways on the narrow bed. Breast to navel, mouth to groin, they rolled in twisted abandon this way and that, as the sounds of their passion echoed within the small room like the foot slogs of soldiers in mud.
But to each there was no sound. Each was involved in an entirely new kind of greed so intense that she hardly knew the pleasure being given to her, so intent was she on savoring the secret folds and curves of the other's most intimate spot. They were like starved animals glutting themselves with the sweet internal flesh of a recent kill. Two warriors in Hades, battling for ultimate supremacy which could never be achieved.
And then, at the same instant, each began to feel the tongue of the other against the tingling nipple of clitoris.
Each now could feel the increase of her own pulse rate, could feel the impact of pumping heart as the pressure of her blood increased throughout the entirety of her body. Each felt she could hardly control her breathing while ministering to the other's vaginal area. Yet, breathing seemed unimportant. The only thing of any importance seemed to be to press deeper into the wet cavity before her and to pull it tight to her hungry mouth as her own hungry vaginal lips pressed hard against the mouth of the other.
Their body tensions were mounting, soaring out of control now, their muscles contracting in involuntary spasms. Each could feel the tightness in her anus, the tingling sensation spreading from the tips of her nipples over the aureole and throughout her breasts. Each could feel the other's outer labia engorging with even more hot blood, could feel the hard contractions of the inner lips actually trying to pull her tongue deeper within their hot grip. Their clitorises seemed to be moving of their own accord-rising even higher, ever more erect, to seek more of the oral stimulation each was giving and taking.
And then each at once knew ... Slowly at first, and then with increasing sureness, each felt her own vaginal spasm begin at the exact moment that she tasted the spasm of the other. The engorged tissues swayed and moved in a series of never-ending, intense muscular contractions. At first it was like a double earthquake, the contractions hitting with machine-gun regularity of one per second, displaying such unerring accuracy that time could have been clocked by them had time existed. But there was no time, there was no place. There was only the hot pressure of vagina against mouth and mouth against vagina. Their vaginas contracted, moving from the upper ends like hot tidal waves of molten lava down toward the cervix. Rolling and then rolling again.
Their faces twisted in masks of pleasure so intense it could have been final agony, their breasts flushed red against each other's bodies and groans of torture escaped their parted lips only to be lost in the hot confines of the other's pulsating flesh. The perspiration that now covered each body began to run in rivulets onto the bed-clothes to be mixed with the sweet fluid of mouth and groin that mingled with it to dampen coverlet, seep through that and dampen the sheet below.
Still they could not stop; their sexual organs tried to relax but greed would not allow it. They pressed harder against one another, churning tongues against labia, lips against clitoris until one vast, complete orgasm fused with another and wave after wave of pleasure and agony crashed through them both at once, so that, almost four minutes after the beginning of the initial spasm, both girls gasped as if struck dead, and finally, no longer able to hold to one another, rolled apart.
They lay with heads at opposite ends of the bed for some minutes, perhaps hoping for sanity to return, but incapable of any thought other than the completely satisfied drained feeling each was experiencing. And yet, in each mind, despite exhaustion, despite physical and spiritual fatigue, was only one thought-another pleasure equally as intense.
As if on single cue, each girl moved slightly so that her right hand touched the right leg of the other. Then because Sue seemed the more exhausted by the past ordeal, Ann slowly rose to her side. She seemed unable to get enough of the sweet nectar that continually oozed from her sister's vagina. She was drained, exhausted, and yet she had to get back to where she had been a moment before. Like some horrid narcotic the younger girl's vaginal lips-her delicate pink labia and the darker, ruby flesh beyond-were drawing her like a sexual addict.
She twisted around on the bed so that she was now kneeling between her sister's spread legs and again lowered her mouth to the sweet river flowing beyond the scented garden of sparse auburn hair.
She was again unaware of time, of space, of anything but the lush Eden into which she darted her tongue. There was nothing but the taste of Sue, the gently pulsating vagina under her and the succulent nub of clitoris flitting above and below her constantly moving tongue.
She did not hear the whisper of door opening, did not know or care that her brother now stood in the room watching them.
Sue, however, saw him there. She started to speak, but he motioned her to silence. With a knowing smile, she nodded slightly and then returned her hungry gaze to where Ann was licking hungrily at her vulva.
The sight of his sisters enjoying lesbian abandon, particularly of Ann eagerly slurping into Sue's cavity, her perfectly formed buttocks lifted high into the air as her hands and lips explored every fold and crease of warm, wet flesh, could have been a spring. It seemed that his own organ fairly snapped to erection.
Holding it in his hand, he tiptoed across the room to stand for a moment at the foot of the bed.
Sue still watched him smiling broadly. Ann was oblivious to everything except the engorged vagina around her hungry mouth.
He waited another moment, then, in one swift, smooth gesture, placed one knee on the bed, and, pushing with the force of the other, slammed the full length of his organ deep within the dripping confines of his sister's love chalice.
"Oh God!" he heard her gasp as he reached around to cup her breasts tightly; he pounded hard against her to send her face even tighter against Sue's gaping groin. But she did not struggle away from him. Instead, she ground back with pressure to match his own.
He thrust tight into her, clasping and kneading her huge breasts while he stared over her back at Sue's smiling face.
"Oh, wow," she was saying again and again, "this is the most! The absolute most!"
Neither John nor Ann seemed to hear her. They moved in furious rhythm, pounding one another as if intent on ultimate destruction. Ann's mouth never left her sister's vagina. John drove heavily back and forth against her double-pleasured body.
They thrust and churned that way for an eternity until Sue spoke again. Still with a happy smile on her face, she closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them. "Guy!" she laughed. "I'm coming off again. This is the most!"
John watched as her body seemed to flush. The small breasts began to tingle with color and her flesh ticked spasmodically, with the jerks which she could no longer control emanating from within.
He was fascinated by the relaxed smile still on her lips. It seemed as if she was taking her real pleasure not from the sensations that Ann was making soar through her vagina, but rather from watching the entire three-way act. Ann, he now knew, was experiencing a total thrill which she had probably long desired. The mere act of licking her sister might have brought her to another orgasm, but coupled with the hard, demanding shaft of his own organ within her hot confines, she was now powerless to control her responses.
He thrust three more times after Sue's remark and began to hear the heavy, involuntary gasps which escaped his sister's arched body. He saw her lift her head from Sue's vagina, felt her rock convulsively against him and finally removed his right hand from her breast. Reaching under her, he explored the soggy area of their union until he found the erect tip of her hot clitoris.
He grasped it between thumb and index finger, gave a gentle squeeze and then flicked it softly several times. She was groaning like a mad woman now, twisting and grinding under him as wave after wave of orgasm racked her voluptuous body.
Power was his, he knew. He had had so much sex in the past two days that he had now become a superman. He could come if he wanted to, but he didn't have to. It was as though his penis had turned into something magic-something superhuman that could do just fine for them and yet would remain safe from its own destructive pleasure.
He thrust two more times in Ann, waited until her own movements ceased and she sprawled heavily on her stomach in the bed. Then, he pulled away from her, his organ still rigidly hard, now glistening with the sweet fluid of his sister's desire.
Sue was still looking at him, smiling as she eased slightly aside to let her sister lie on the narrow bed. Then a slight frown clouded her face as she glanced down to his glistening shaft.
"Didn't you come?" she asked.
He shook his head.
"Gosh," she said.
"Want it?"
"You know, Johnny. Tongues are kicky, but I want that up in me all the time."
Walking on his knees, he advanced along the length of the bed toward her, completely ignoring the body of his other sister to his right.
He hovered over Sue's spread legs for a moment, then in slow teasing gestures gradually lowered the tip of his penis until it barely touched her outer labia still spread wet and wide.
The first contact seemed to send an electric shock through them. He felt her quiver under him for an instant before her legs lifted to enfold him and draw him down to her arching hips. Then it was she who was pounding and thrashing against him, throwing her hips high, jiggling her tiny breasts and smiling happily as she kept saying, "Guy, Johnny, this is real fun!"
Still believing that he could now continue the movements forever, no matter what sensations shivered along the erect length of his manhood, he glanced from Sue's smiling face to where Ann now began to stir beside him. She rolled to her side, saw the panorama of lust before her, but did not indicate any evaluation.
John reached out and grabbed one of her huge breasts, then leaned over to take its erect nipple in his mouth. Sue's hips still churned under him, Ann's breasts was tightly clamped in his mouth and he knew that above him the two girls were kissing feverishly. Then, in addition to the soft slap of his testicles against Sue's wet flesh, he felt the curious fingers creep along his leg as Ann reached down to massage and manipulate his hanging scrotum.
In that simple, exploratory touch, that delicate caress of hand on scrotum, his permanence ended. Again, he realized that with passion like this he could never even hope to be perpetual. Each time he thought so, the dream was beautifully shattered by one girl or the other.
Now, he could feel his own added blood pressure and the tap-hammer pounding of his pulse. He could no longer breathe easily through his nose, but had to open his mouth to suck in huge gulps of air. His entire body felt hot and flushed and the world seemed to be limited to the warm cauldron that banged up hard against his hips only to slip slightly away and lift high again.
Every muscle in his body seemed to spasm at once. One foot curled tight in a cramp, but he felt no pain. Something deep within him snapped. He felt a terrible pain at the base of his spine and then the forced gush as the warm jet of his semen spurted like hot lava into Sue's welcoming cavern.
"Gosh!" Sue gasped. This time the smile was gone. Her eyes clamped tight together and she, so much in control a moment before, almost screamed. It was a high but gurgled sound that escaped her open lips but couldn't quite break free of her tightly clamped teeth.
Ann gave one final hard squeeze to his scrotum and Sue churned against him. He knew the hot splash of his own fluid within his little sister had brought her to yet another orgasm. As his mind swam in the surging pleasure of release surrounded by nubile female flesh, he wondered absently if there was any person or any group of people who could ever bring little Sue to complete satisfaction.
They all lay exhausted for several moments before he pulled free of the dripping lips still squeezing tightly around his now limp organ.
Sue groaned as he finally tugged himself away and out of her, but she didn't speak. He rose from the bed, bent down to kiss one of her small breasts while at the same time tickling Ann's wet opening with a finger. This time, Ann smiled up at him. All the hate seemed to have drained from her face. She was totally exhausted, totally satiated.
He wondered how long that state would last. And then, as he turned to leave the room, he thought of how ironic the whole situation was. Just because he had been frustrated the night before and had had a couple of beers, he had gotten the wild idea to crawl in with Sue when really Ann was the better looking, better built of the two. Now, he didn't know whether he had made the right choice or not. Sue could kill him with her lust without half trying. He could never have any real sexual power over her. She could come and come again and again without ever seeming to be satisfied, while Ann was really a slave to her own passions.
He was too weary to think more about it. He walked down the hall to his own room, then to the bathroom. He turned the shower on and stepped under the invigorating spray, hoping to bring some semblance of life to his exhausted drained body.
He had only been there a minute-perhaps two-when the shower door opened, and without a word Sue stepped under the water with him.
She gently took the bar of soap from his hand and lathered her hands with foam before beginning to wash him. He waited quietly as her slender hands slid from his chest to his stomach and then to cover his genitals with soap, lathering the foam around his thighs for a moment only to have the shower spray rinse it away.
Then, without further warning, Sue dropped to her knees under the tingling spray of warm water and, lifting his scrotum in both hands, stuck out her tongue to caress the very tip of his soft member. She ran her tongue over the head of his penis for a moment then slowly leaned forward so that the entire soft organ disappeared into the hot confines of her mouth.
The sensation was unbelievable. He was drained, exhausted, sexually finished-at least for several more minutes-yet the hot surge of excitement running through him was something he could not have imagined. The warm water hit his neck and shoulders with a thousand liquid needles and yet his manhood was being held warm and safe in his kid sister's oral pocket.
She continued massaging him with her tongue for some long moments until she apparently realized that he would no longer be erect for some time. Finally, her auburn hair hanging limp around her childish face, she rose from her knees and stood facing him.
"Gosh," she said. "I thought maybe you'd like it in the shower."
"Jesus," he said, slightly annoyed. "Can't you ever get enough?"
"You should talk!" she snapped. "You're the one who wanted to teach me all this stuff last night."
He turned away from her and abruptly turned off the shower. Without speaking he opened the door, stepped out and threw a towel to her as he took another to dry himself.
When they had both dried themselves, he told her he wanted something to eat. It was almost one o'clock in the afternoon and his exertions had given him a ravenous hunger.
Both completely naked still, he and Sue walked downstairs to the living room. He continued on toward the kitchen, but she stopped when she saw the vibrator still lying on the floor where Ann had left it. She stooped to pick it up and then followed her brother into the kitchen.
As he opened the refrigerator to look for some snack food, she sat down in one of the chairs at the chrome and formica table.
John had just reached inside the refrigerator for the platter of cold beef from their dinner the previous night, when he turned to look at Sue.
She had lifted her right leg so that her foot was now beside her buttocks on the seat of the chair. From where he stood, he could see every convolution of her adolescent vagina, every strand of hair covering it. He heard the soft whirr of the vibrator before he noticed it in her hand.
Then, with a casual deliberateness which seemed completely unsensual, he saw his fifteen-year-old sister slowly insert the throbbing machine deep into her wet vagina, replace her foot on the kitchen floor and look up to him.
He slammed the refrigerator door and placed the platter of beef on the counter beside it. "Shit!" he said. "You never get enough, do you?"
She ignored him. "Ummm," she said. "That's good. Real good. That way I can sit here having a sandwich with you and still maybe come off a couple of times, too."
He ignored the remark. He cut two thick slices of beef from the roast, placed each between two slices of buttered bread and slid a plate across the table to Sue. She took a big bite of the sandwich, chewed slightly and then began to talk, still with her mouth full of bread and meat.
"Know what?" she said as he sat down opposite her.
"What?"
"I just got an idea."
He took a bite of his own sandwich and looked at her.
"Know what would be a gas?" she said.
"No. What?"
"After lunch, I could have this old goodie up in me and suck on you too. It'd sort of be like having two guys around."
He grunted and took another bite of sandwich. He was still soft. Still drained.
"Don't you want to?" she asked.
He grunted.
"I'll suck you real good, Johnny. I ..."
"What's the matter?"
Her hands cupped over her breasts to squeeze and massage the nipples. "Ummm, that's good, Johnny. I'm going to come off again. Guy, I could keep coming all day like this."
"God damn it!" he snapped. "Will you knock it off! Eat your sandwich and shut up."
She sighed in masturbatory satisfaction, looked down at the plate before her for a second then up to him. "I'd rather eat you," she said. "Doesn't matter if it's not hard yet. I'll make it come up. Honest. I promise."
For a moment before he had thought she was taunting him, but now he realized that she genuinely meant what she was saying. Perhaps he had been right. Maybe she really couldn't be satisfied. Maybe all she wanted was something in her vagina and something in her mouth all the time. He looked at her a long time, then rose from the table.
"Here," he said, "give me that kinky machine. Let me work it in you while you work your head."
She again lifted one leg to the seat of the chair and this time removed the still-whirring machine. Almost reluctantly she gave it to him as he left the kitchen and walked into the living room.
At first he thought of sitting on the couch, but realized that although she would have access to him there he would not be able to reach her own genital area easily. He lay down on the carpet, pulling her down over him so that as she knelt straddling him he could look up to see her genital area directly over his head.
Then, as she eagerly lowered her mouth to take the full curled length of his flaccid organ beyond her hot lips, he flicked on the vibrator and reached up to run the tip in little teasing gestures over her labia, her clitoris and her anus.
As he was doing so, he heard the soft footstep on the stairs, turned his head slightly and saw Ann just walking into the room. He knew from what he had seen earlier that she liked licking on Sue's parts, and now he had a wild idea. With his free hand he motioned her over so that she knelt down on the floor beside them.
As Sue continued to lave his penis with hot saliva, John eased Ann under her so that her head was on his chest and her tongue in direct contact with Sue's vagina.
As Ann teased her sister's orifice and clitoris with her tongue, John used one free hand to work the vibrator against Sue's sphincter and the other to dip into Ann's already open and sogging vagina.
It was the wildest thing he had ever done. His fingers were dipping into and stroking one woman's spread vagina, feeling the bobbing clitoris as it responded and jumped under the tingles of his touch. Above him, he had already succeeded in inserting the very tip of the whirring vibrator into the tight opening of Sue's anus and was gently pushing so that the machine penetrated deeper and deeper. Under that, he could feel the slight movements of Ann's eager mouth, could hear her heavy breathing and the occasional wet, animal sounds coming from her that blended so well with the heavy continual spatter of rain outside the house.
Below, Sue had never stopped the movements of her own mouth. She seemed to have gained the knowledge of every woman throughout all of recorded time in a matter of but a day. The girl had an instinct for sex. Maybe she had been a virgin this time the previous day, but something in her fundamental character was made for sex and didn't need formalized instruction. She had picked up more knowledge of John's nervous system on a single day than Ann would probably ever learn.
Besides, he thought with a sigh, Ann probably liked her lesbian stuff better than real sex. She'd been frightened of real sex all her life, and then when it finally hit her it had been in the form of a dirty trick. After all, he had slammed the vibrator into her. He had taken her by the back door. With Sue it was different. Everything the previous night had been gentle and nice until Ann broke them up and she'd gotten some real joy out of her first sex with a male. No wonder she was so hungry.
As his sister's mouth continued to move sensuously on him, he felt the life beginning to return to his previously exhausted organ. Slowly at first, and then with increasing drive, the blood began to flow through him so that he started to uncurl like a giant snake stretching lazily before striking for the kill.
And then he was hard! Ready! Somehow he didn't want a mouth on him anymore. He wanted to put himself where he really belonged.
Roughly, brutally, he pushed Ann out of the way and withdrew himself from Sue's mouth. The vibrator was now almost fully inserted in Sue's anus as, ignoring the indignant cries of Ann, he rolled the younger girl on her back and thrust his own living organ deep into her vagina.
"Wow!" Sue cried.
And he echoed the single word. This time it was like never before, because in addition to her own ticking, twisting, pounding movements there was also the constant hundreds-of-times-a-minute vibrations of the machine lodged in her intestinal tract. It was as if he were actually being massaged by the soft hot folds of her vagina.
For Sue the pleasure was equally as intense. Since her first experience the night before, she had somehow realized that sex, although completely absent from her life before, had now become almost a total way of life for her. Now she was full, at once with the man who had first brought her to orgiastic splendor and with a whirring, stimulating machine that seemed to be titillating the very depths of her being and making his organ vibrate in sympathetic oscillations with it.
Both Sue and John were oblivious to Ann in their ecstasy. Ann, however, was furious. A moment before she had been happily lying on her back, her own vagina being gently, maddeningly stroked by male fingers as her lips drank in the sweet fragrance of love's nectar from her sister's vagina. Now, in an instant, she had been thrown aside, had rolled over and had turned to see the body she desired being doubly impaled by both her own brother and her own vibrating machine.
For an instant she thought of flinging herself furiously upon the two writhing lovers, or perhaps of leaping to her feet, rushing into the kitchen and beating them to miserable sodden pulp with one of the chairs there; but then she looked to Sue's face.
There was no longer a smile there. This time the pleasure being experienced by the young girl was apparently too great for that. Her eyes were only half open, their lids fluttering slightly, their pupils heavily glazed with pleasure.
But it was Sue's mouth that arrested Ann's attention. It was open and breath was escaping heavily from between the parted lips. Occasionally, the young girl would let her tongue dart out to moisten half-parched lips. And that is what arrested Ann's attention.
The tongue! She wanted Sue's tongue in her again.
She scrambled to her knees and crawled the few feet across the carpet until she was straddling Sue's head, then she bent her knees, and like a mother hen squirming to adjust her pressure on a newly laid egg, settled down over her sister's face. At the same instant she felt the hot lick of tongue shooting up within her, she also felt the soft caress of John's hands cupping her breasts from underneath. They were facing each other now, she straddling Sue's head, he pounding brutally against her groin as the vibrator whirred under him.
It was all too much, the tongue below, his now-gentle hands on her breasts and his handsome face swimming before her. Was it hate? was it love? She no longer knew-no longer cared. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her brother as their lips met in a fervent tongue-twining kiss.
And in that instant their mouths met, a surge of wet fire leaped through her, Sue gave a convulsive groan and John shuddered in her arms.
The three spasmed together, almost exploding under the intensity of their desires; they remained in position for some time, before, like a building seen crumbling through the lens of a slow motion camera, they finally collapsed to the rug.
The house was silent. The only sounds-labored breathing, the dull drone of rain, and the soft, gentle whirr of oscillating vibrator still trapped in the hot confines of Sue's vagina.
CHAPTER FIVE
The drug of passion is never one to be taken lightly. It demands too much of body and soul, and often, in the very brutal totality of its demands, destroys both utterly.
Mr. and Mrs. Brillard were not expected home until Sunday, yet their children had already savored the first few bites of forbidden fruit. It was Saturday. They had experimented and teased during the morning and afternoon, but there seemed so much more to learn. Particularly Sue wanted to possess all the knowledge she could of pleasure and its giving and taking.
After dinner, they all watched television for a while, perhaps occasionally stroking one another or playing absently with vital parts of their anatomies, but generally conserving their sexual strengths for the evening to come. They had already determined that they would spend their last night together as a threesome in their parents' huge bed. There they could romp and frolic to their hearts' content on their last night of freedom from parental supervision. After that, they knew they would have to sneak. They also knew that they could never give up easily on the joys they had all discovered over the last twenty-four hours.
It was eleven o'clock when John finally rose and turned off the television. Neither of the girls protested. Forgetting the clothing they had all shed that morning and scattered over the living room floor, the two girls turned off the living room lights and followed their brother up the flight of stairs to the huge bed in their parents' room.
This time, any modesty any of them might have felt a day before was completely erased. Each wanted to savor ultimate pleasure while at the same time prolonging that pleasure for as long as humanly possible. John, particularly, wanted to exercise the maximum of control, and before getting into bed poured himself a glass of cold water from the bathroom tap. He placed it on the end table beside him, rolled onto the bed and lay on his back.
"You like cock," he said to Sue. "Why not ride the old horse again while I lap Ann a little?"
Neither of the girls protested or even spoke. As if the words were a programmed command which could not be denied, they climbed on the bed. Sue, on her knees, straddled John's hips, again taking his partially erect organ in both her hands to fondle and massage it as she gazed down in childish reverence.
Ann waited a moment, watching Sue's slow reverent movements before inching toward her brother. Before she lifted one bent leg over him, she ran one hand from his groin, up along the length of his torso until it fondled him under the chin.
She looked at him long and intently for a moment, her expression an enigma. Was she feeling love, her brother wondered, or complete sensual hatred? Was she merely stroking his neck in tender passion, or was she actually thinking of strangling him?
It was Ann herself who ended his thoughts. She lifted her left thigh over him and knelt with her hands braced against the headboard. From where he lay, he could look up to her blonde Venus mound, could see the undersides of her huge breasts and the half-smile on her face as she gazed down on him. Through the opening of her legs he could gaze downward to where Sue still fondled his organ, now letting it touch the soft folds of her outer labia.
Then he reached up, put his hands on Ann's hips, and firmly but gently pulled her down so that her opening of love hovered a bare inch away from his mouth. At the same instant he felt the first hot caress of Sue's demanding vagina as she lowered herself just enough to allow the head of his organ to enter the first inch of her vagina. Finally, both girls lowered completely and he was happily drowned in scalding flesh.
Sue moved with agonized slowness, only slightly rolling her hips from side to side so as to experience the continued full penetration of hard flesh within her.
From where she straddled her brother, she could see his stomach and navel, his chest, and then Ann's large firm buttocks resting on his head. Still only allowing her body a slight, easy roll from side to side so that she could alternately press her brother's erect shaft against all the deep-seated nerves of her passionate channel, she lowered her right hand and extended its second finger to lift the tiny tip of her clitoris up and out.
Remembering what John had told her the previous evening about male masturbation, she gently clasped the tiny nipple between thumb and forefinger and began to work the damp flesh in and out as her hips still rolled gently on the muscular hips below her.
This time she, too, wanted to savor each perfect ecstasy of passion before the final climax that she hoped would surge through her body like none she had ever felt before. She knew if she could only keep her brother from ejaculating-by not making her own movements too fast and furious-she might even be able to bring herself to several delicious orgasms. The shaft was in her, hot and hard, pressing against the mouth of her cervix, and she herself could manipulate her clitoris as fast and furiously as she liked.
As she did so she extended her left hand, first to run the fingers softly along John's torso, then to caress first her sister's thigh and hip, then her waist, and finally the large firm mound of left breast. As one hand flicked eager fingers along her clitoris, the other snaked fingers equally as eager along another erect nipple.
Ann meanwhile had lifted her right breast high so that she could extend her tongue to touch its turgid nipple. She could feel an added tingle of pleasure as Sue caressed her other breast and the final ecstasy of her brother's tongue savoring the liquid of her desire below. He was not as gently knowing as Sue, but he moved with greater passion and fury. She, too, hoped to have at least one-maybe two-spasmed orgasms before he finally exhausted himself in Sue's vagina.
John thought only of cold tundra as he moved his tongue mechanically up into Ann's now sodden orifice, as he savored the hot sheath of Sue's gently rolling hips. He alone of the three was determined to give himself no ultimate pleasure by this act-only to wait until the girls had their thrills before suggesting another position that had just come to mind.
The girls' breathing began to increase, Sue's fingers moved more rapidly on her own clitoris and she pressed down harder to capture more of the turgid shaft within her. Ann, too, ground down, trying to get as much increased pleasure from the rapidly moving tongue that slithered up and down within her and snapped delicately against her throbbing clitoris. The pressure of Sue's fingers arid hand on her left breast increased. She felt the nipple squeezed hard, but there was no pain.
Behind her she heard Sue gasp the single word, "Guy!" and knew that the girl had had yet another spasm of total release. For a moment she was jealous-almost contemptuous of her kid sister-until she began to feel herself tiptoeing, then rushing headlong, toward her own climax. She dropped the breast she had been holding and braced both palms hard against the bed's headboard as she ground her hips brutally down on John's face. She didn't care if she smothered him in her pleasure; perhaps, she half-thought, his dying gasp would flow hot and warm into her, adding even more pleasure to the spasm that was about to roll through her.
And then it happened-the single, blinding convulsion that seemed to tear the very hair from her scalp, to roll down along her body, finally to throb and pulsate in abandoned ecstasy through her more delicate nerves below.
She savored it for long moments, grinding hard downward against the mouth and tongue still moving within her, and then, finally, lifted herself clear of John's panting face.
"Come?" he asked with a smile.
She nodded, then looked down to where Sue still straddled her brother, still played gently with her erect clitoris, a bland and happy smile on her face. She reached over and fondled the younger girl's small breasts absently for a moment, inspecting their taut firmness and small, jutting nipples.
Then, almost like a woman in a dream, she moved close so that she could take one delicate mound in her own mouth to savor the sweet film of glistening perspiration that now covered it.
"Oh, Guy," Sue said as she looked down to see half of her right breast disappear into her sister's hungry mouth. "It's coming again. Wow!"
From where he lay, John could look down to the full panorama of the orgy. Ann seemed oblivious to her sister's remark. She seemed only consumed by one desire, one action. Her lips moved hungrily on Sue's firm flesh as Sue's fingers moved with a furious activity on her own clitoris. The younger girl had not raised her hips once since settling on his hard shaft. She only swayed from side to side, occasionally contracting the inner muscles of her vaginal wall to grip him more tightly before releasing again to sway in a semi-circular motion.
This way, he could savor both the visual and the sensual pleasure of the act without being subjected to his own ejaculation, which would finish him as a performer for too long. He reached out with his left hand and extended one finger to sink it deep into Ann's still dripping vagina. At the same time, his right covered Sue's left breast, kneading, stroking, pinching.
Then he saw Sue close her eyes tightly, clench her teeth, and he felt her begin to spasm from within. For the first time her hips lifted. Once she raised and thrust down again. Twice she did it. Three times. She churned on him, gasping heavily, sending tendrils of unbelievable pleasure through him before she finally relaxed.
His hard shaft was still deep inside her, but now his hand had dropped from her breast and Ann had taken her own mouth away from the other.
Sue remained absolutely still for some time before her eyes finally opened and her mouth relaxed. She looked from her smiling brother to her frowning sister, but did not speak. The expression of sheer, animal satiation on her face seemed all the communication necessary.
"Jesus you're horny!" Ann said at length.
"I like it," Sue countered. "It's sure a lot better than a tongue."
Ann started to reply but held her tongue. John looked from one girl to the other before he spoke. "How would you both like it? I mean, at once?"
They both looked down to where he lay, fingers laced under his head, smiling broadly.
"You've only got one, silly," Sue said. "How can we both get it at once?"
"Tell you what," he said. "I'm in pretty good shape now. Might not even come at all. Feel like I could keep this rod on forever, but I'll make a deal. First one to get me to come off gets whatever she wants. Fair?"
The girls exchanged knowing glances, then both smiled. They nodded their heads as one.
"Okay," he said. "You both get on your backs, side by side, and each put a pillow under your ass." He pointed over to the end table where Ann had placed the vibrator on entering the room. "Now," he said. "I'll dick one of you maybe two or three strokes while I put that dealie in the other, then switch so I'm in the other while the machine's in the first."
Again the girls looked from him to each other, each smiling with some secret female knowledge. John could feel the tight expansion and contraction of Sue's vaginal muscles on his shaft, the easy, unseen half-movements of her hips designed to bring him closer to climax before the new game began.
"No fair," he said at length. "Hop off and get ready." Almost reluctantly, Sue climbed up and away from her brother, revealing the long glistening shaft of his erection covered with the sweet fluid of her desire. As she and her sister took the pillows from the top of the king-sized bed and snuggled them under their buttocks so as to raise their hips high and eager for their brother's penetration, he rolled off the bed and stood up.
First, he took the glass of cold water he had poured earlier and deliberately bent over so as to insert the length of his hard penis into it. He was going to make this last one as long as possible, he thought, even if he had to use every artificial means he could. He let the cold water in the glass surround his penis for some time, deadening the tingling nerves as much as possible before he replaced it on the end table and then reached for the vibrator Ann had brought upstairs with her.
Then, flicking the machine on so that he could feel the sensuous oscillations in his right hand, he turned again to the bed.
Both girls were lying on their backs, their hips slightly arched by the pressures of pillows beneath them, their eyes intently on his erect organ. Their knees were bent, their legs spread wide in anticipation.
Still beside the bed, he looked lazily from one wide vagina to the other, trying to think which one was the more inviting, the more purely sensual. Was it Ann with her rich covering of blonde hair already forming a completely mature triangle around the pink candle flame of eager labia? Or was it Sue, only half woman with a tuft of silk barely covering a glistening wet organ that seemed incapable of being satisfied no matter what fuel was thrust into its roaring furnace?
"Come on," Sue said finally. "You can't stand there all night." She darted her right hand out and grabbed the length of his penis, squeezing hard and pulling the foreskin forward.
He pulled away, but not before the one simple touch had erased all the numbing benefits of the cold water. "All right," he said finally, as he crawled onto the bed. Somehow, Sue's touch-her insatiable eagerness-had annoyed him. He decided to use the vibrator on her and savor Ann's body first. He transferred the machine to his left hand, crawled over the girls' legs so that he now knelt with his manhood, arched high and arrogant, pointing at Ann's huge breasts, and with an almost brutal gesture thrust the whirring machine halfway into Sue's gaping opening.
"Ummm," he heard her say as he eased forward to slam himself deep into Ann's cauldron. Receiving the long shaft of his hot manhood deep in her eager orifice, Ann curled tightly, arched her legs up and clasped him in a scissor lock just above his buttocks. As he thrust, she thrust. As he writhed, she twisted, pounding hard, locking herself tight to him so as to keep his flesh buried deep within her demanding vagina, that seemed already to be spasming alive with unbelievable passion.
He glanced to Sue, contentedly watching them as she moved the vibrator back and forth within her own opening. The half smile on her childlike face seemed to be mocking him, to be taunting him with the face that he might ejaculate long before he thought he would.
With a roughness verging on brutality, he arched his back and pulled away from Ann, breaking the lock of her legs behind him. He jerked the vibrator from Sue's wet labia and thrust it hard into Ann's gaping vagina. Then he rolled on the bed, over their touching legs, poised for a moment over Sue's invitation, and with maddening slowness thrust himself deep within her.
The smile still remained on her face, but her reaction was totally unlike that of her sister. She had propped herself on her elbows and was staring happily at the point where their two sexes met. Her body remained absolutely motionless as he eased even deeper, pressing hair to hair, hip to hip in a slow grind of passion. Then he waited a long, tingling moment, let his penis drink in the sweet, hot fluid flowing from her innermost depth. Finally, as slowly as he could, he began to ease away from the scalding heat of her vaginal channel. The air of the room seemed ice cold contrasted with the hot demand of her unmoving body. The sweet, innocent smile on her face as she continued to stare at their joining organs never wavered; rather it seemed to heighten his passion by her obsession with the point of their juncture.
He pulled himself almost clear so that only the extreme tip of his shaft now lodged against the sweet folds of her inner labia, resting in slight throbs against the nub of her clitoris. He reached his hand down, angled his organ upward, and stroked the pulsating nipple twice before again slowly sliding deep within the steaming cavity.
Still her body did not move. Her only response seemed to be completely mental. He knew she was feeling every tingling vibration of their twin flesh now melded into a passionate one, yet she seemed unwilling to exert herself in any way. She watched him in sensual curiosity as he moved ever more slowly in and out and in again.
He rested then, pushing hard into her deepest innards, rocking slightly so that although his organ remained planted deeply he could increase and decrease the pressure of his hips on hers. He rested his upper weight on his palms, looking down to her smiling face, her half-glazed eyes, letting his eyes roll over her pert adolescent breasts and then down to the sweet tuft of auburn hair matted against his own.
An agony of pain shot through him. Ann had rolled slightly to grab his scrotum and had brutally squeezed his testicles. There was no delicate sensuousness in the movement-only a vicious demand for his flesh to thrust again into her own.
Still buried deep in Sue, he reached to his side, slid his hand over Ann's wet breasts and down over her soft stomach to where the vibrator still pulsated within her damp lips. He pulled it free at the same moment he released himself from the easy grasp of Sue's dew-heavy vagina.
Again he rolled, this time more gently inserting the vibrator into his younger sister, making sure that the throbbing machine rested high to press its undulating message tight against her clitoris.
He rose to his knees and looked down at Ann, who already had her fingers laced behind his back and was pulling him toward her gaping femininity.
"Christ!" she gasped as she tugged futilely on him. "At least if you're playing big man, you can give me my own kicks."
He leaned slightly forward. "You coming?" he asked.
"I was before you pulled out."
He touched only the tip of his shaft to her, but as he did so she thrust hard upward, and at the same time her hands gave a violent pull to his back. He felt his manhood slam hard into soft, welcoming flesh as again her hips churned against his.
She locked her legs around him again, laced her arms over his back and violently thrust and bucked. "Yes," she gasped through parted lips, "do it! Oh, fuck me, Johnny. Fuck me good!"
He was still in control-but barely-and if he could only get her to have her own spasmed orgasm first, he would be saved. He wanted to get back into Sue, to feel the slow hot sensuousness of the unmoving girl as opposed to the violent throes of his lust-maddened older sister.
Then he felt the first ticking within the roll of engorged flesh as release broke and began to cascade through hen Ann writhed against him, locked her legs even tighter and began to scream through clenched teeth.
As she spasmed under him, still desperately thrashing to lock tight, he in turn fought for release from her stranglehold. It was to no avail. She would not let him go until she had pulled the last tingle of sensation possible from his throbbing organ within her.
Finally he felt the first signs of her satiation-the hint of weakness in the grip of her hands and locked ankles-and in that moment of her own weakness, he jerked free.
She writhed on the bed, both her hands clasping the open lips of her dripping organ.
"Oh, you bastard," she moaned. "You bastard ..."
He looked down on her a moment as she twisted this way and that, her eyes tightly closed, her face a twisted mask of frustration. Then he reached to his left, gently eased the pulsating vibrator from Sue's warm lips and with slow deliberation thrust it deep within Ann's gaping wound.
Her knees snapped higher, her own hands pressed flat against the throbbing machine within her and, still twisting and jerking from side to side, she began to moan in blind ecstasy. The orgasm he had started within her was now mixing with a second perhaps even more intense spasm that was hers alone.
He watched for a moment longer before turning to Sue. She was still smiling although shaking her head slightly from side to side. She reached out and touched his penis tenderly with her left hand then lifted her eyes to his.
"Let's make it last all night," she whispered. "Real slow and easy so it never ends?"
"Yeah," he said as he crawled between her spread legs and again slowly eased his way high and deep into her hot vagina.
Still she didn't respond with her hips or torso. Still she propped herself on her elbows so as better to watch the joining of their two bodies.
"You gonna come in me, Johnny?" she asked, still smiling.
He looked to where Ann was still twisting in her own self-induced orgiastic pleasure.
"Yeah."
"That means I get the prize."
Now he could feel the ever-so-slight first movement of her hips as they started to move with his in lazy sensuous receipt of his organ. "Yeah," he managed, still drinking in the sweet adolescent contours of her nubile body.
"Know what I want?" She was moving rhythmically now, but still with a gentle slowness that at once prolonged the act but increased the detail of pleasure that seemed to tingle every nerve of both their bodies.
"What?" He pushed deep-deeper-within her, rolled his hips in slow rhythm with hers so that he could feel first the smooth flesh of her left thigh, then the mound of Venus, and then the hot warmth of her right thigh, now partially lifted so that the foot could trace a caress along the length of his leg.
"I want you anytime I say." Her slow rhythm began to increase in subtle cadence. It seemed she was moving more slowly outside but that the firm wet muscles of her inner passages were beginning to dance in ever wilder staccato.
"Sure," he gasped as he eased his weight away from her, pulling back and back until finally his glistening organ pulled completely free of her.
She pulled her legs up and sat for a moment Indian fashion on the bed looking seriously at him. Her face seemed almost petulant. Her breasts were rising and falling slightly, and her young, tight vagina was gaping wet and open against the sheets. "Promise?" she said.
He nodded and moved toward her again but she placed a palm on his chest. "Cross your heart?"
"Sure," he said again advancing toward her. "Cross my heart."
Satisfied now, she let the smile again return to her face. She reached out and pulled one of his legs from under him so that he was forced to turn and assume a sitting position, back perpendicular, legs extended before him on the bed.
Then, still with an unbelievably sensuous slowness, she moved toward him and straddled him; and, placing his organ exactly against the hot opening of her own, she slid down to let it sink deeply within her vagina.
They were both sitting now, she on top of him, their torsos together so that her small pert breasts just touched him, her erect nipples electrifying pin-pricks against his heaving chest.
As her hips swayed back and forth, around and around on him, letting him feel the pressure of first one side then the other of her channel of love, she laced her arms over his shoulders and drew his head to hers.
Their lips met with the same deliberate slowness, parted and tasted. Their tongues darted out and she whispered half-heard words into the cavern of his mouth.
"Oh, you fuck good, Johnny. All night, Johnny. Let's make it go just forever and ever."
He was breathing heavily now and beginning to groan. He held tight to her slender form, which now seemed to be moving all over him, slithering like a slow passionate eel that was ever increasing the tempo of its movements. In his own position he could barely move his own hips, could only respond to her passion by his lips and tongue. Somehow he knew that she was prolonging her own release to coincide with his-that this time would be her last for the day and that she wanted to make it as thorough and intense as she possibly could -better and more complete than any she had previously experienced.
She was grinding faster now, swaying from side to side, lifting her hips in regular cadence and then letting them tic as they dropped against his. Her soft buttocks twisted against his thighs, her firm breasts slid along the perspiration that covered their chests. The nipples were so hard they almost scratched him in their pressured passion.
Still the cadence of her rhythm increased. Now, she too was gasping, panting heavily as her lips locked to his own and her tongue darted in and out of his gasping mouth.
"Come on, Johnny!"
He felt, rather than heard, her words spoken directly into his mouth. Her tongue slid over his, then pulled away to lick first his upper then his lower lip. She leaned away from him, but not far enough to pull the pressure of her breasts from his chest.
He saw that her eyes were half closed, glazed, but still staring at him intently. Her hips never stopped moving, never ceased the increasing rhythm of their grinding onto his. She was rolling on him, literally screwing herself to him. Had his penis had threads the two of them would now have been inseparable.
Yet she continued to stare at him as she rolled and ground, as she swayed her small breasts over his chest to make swirled unseen patterns in the flowing perspiration.
"Come on, Johnny," she said again. "We'll make it together, the biggest come-off yet. Come on, Johnny, do it in me ... spurt way up high so I can feel it hit my heart ..."
He didn't quite understand why, but he was still not ready. All the previous sex must have drained him, he thought. Despite the actions of both girls, he was still in a perfect position: erect, hard, able to satisfy completely, yet still not on the lip of passion that would demand his own release. The thought gave him an intense surge of power. Little Sue was fighting as hard as she could to hold back the crashing release of her own floodgates, but he wasn't ready for her.
He could force her right to the limit this way, making her move ever harder and faster against him, demanding and demanding yet not receiving what she really wanted. Then he realized she was really afraid to have her release, she was holding it back for him because maybe-just maybe-this was the time that actually would satisfy her. Maybe she wasn't insatiable after all. Maybe she had just worked herself up to a point where this would be the big one-the ultimate-but in order to make it right inside herself she would have to feel the hot spurt and ticking throb of his own release.
He let his body topple to its side, pulling her with him, her hips never stopping their cadence. They lay that way for a moment, he nestled tight between the demanding warmth of her thighs for a long time before he finally forced her again to her back. Now she could no longer dominate the situation with her hips hinged in sweet honey-now he could move, too.
As he thrust into her and withdrew, he felt her long fingers toying with his anus and scrotum, felt there at first gentle then more demanding caress as they stroked along the line of hanging flesh to lift first one then the other testicle as if weighing it.
Her wet fingers slid to where they joined and, as he pulled out, grasped him around the base of his shaft. She squeezed as she smiled. She was taunting him again. She was so close she had to prevent him from entering all the way. She had laced a tight collar of her fingers around him barring his entrance into the gates of paradise.
"Wait," she said, and he stopped. She pushed him slightly away and then pulled back and forth on his turgid organ. Her fingers moved up and down and her hand drew back and forth. She was a flutist manipulating a magical instrument with a sensation so stimulating yet so different from his last that he hardly knew which he preferred.
"Come on, Johnny," she said again. "Do it ... please?"
Still he wasn't ready. The power within him grew into a great sadistic thing. He knew she wouldn't let herself go until he did, but that she was already teetering over the edge. He almost laughed.
Then he felt the hard pulsating pressure of the vibrator pressed against his sphincter-the throbbing titillation of electronic stimulation that seemed to soar completely through him.
Ann did not thrust the instrument inside him- only held it there with one hand as she leaned forward to thrust one of her big breasts against his mouth. Now he was surrounded with flesh. He pushed again, and this time Sue released the grip of her hand and allowed him entrance. Now she was churning as violently as Ann had done before, and he was matching her every thrust.
Somehow Ann managed to keep the throb of the vibrator against him so that its electronic stimulation centered on both his scrotum and anus as Sue's hot flesh entrapped his organ. His lips clamped tight on Ann's nipple, but he opened his eyes to see that her free hand was rubbing her sister's pert breasts.
"Oh, Johnny!" Sue gasped. "Please! I can't stop ... I can't ..."
She twisted violently against him, churning her entire body so that not one muscle remained immobile. She was a wet slithering machine of pure passion, and in her own intense release, which he knew was more thorough than any she had ever experienced, he felt his own floodgates burst open and the hot jet of sperm shoot from his testicles, winding along miles of tingling tubing until it finally ran along the length of his penis. It was traveling untold miles of impossible ecstasy, and then, like the explosion of an atomic cannon, it was gone. He could feel the heat and power of it as it jetted high into Sue's welcoming vagina, could feel her impassioned twisting around and against him as she cried, "Johnny! Johnny!" again and again.
It seemed that neither of them could stop the orgasm this time. It started, but it could not end. Now his teeth clamped tight on Ann's erect nipple, but what pain she received was not enough to force her to release the grip on the vibrator still pulsating against his scrotum and anus-making it impossible for his once-opened ducts to close.
All the semen he had was shooting from him in a never-ending stream that seemed to be heated even more within Sue so that they were actually being boiled alive in the cauldron of their own passions.
A minute, an hour, an eternity? He could never know. It was so prolonged-so intense-that he actually felt his mind slipping away from him. First it turned to sparked crimson and purple, silent Roman candles exploding and imploding in an endless night. There was no time, no place- only the hot flesh that surrounded him, demanding ever more and more of his precious fluid, and then, perhaps for an instant, perhaps far longer, there was hot blackness.
His previous exertions, the intensity of this last release combined to shatter his mind completely. All was nothing. Nothing was all.
He swayed for a moment, then fell unconscious over the two soft bodies. His last memory was drowning in a sea of soft breasts, trying to claw his way to the surface over their round, slippery curves, and then plunging into sweet oblivion.
* * *
When he awoke he was lying on his back. The light was still on. Sue was lying partially over him, her head resting on his hips, but her body twisted so that the sleeping Ann could rest her own head on the younger girl's smooth thigh.
Sue looked intently up at him for a long moment waiting for him to regain consciousness totally before she spoke. When she did, her voice was a soft, mature purr completely unlike her usual childish tones.
"Good?" she asked simply.
He had to swallow before he was able to speak. When he did his voice sounded foreign and far away. "Yeah."
"Me too," she said. She turned her head slowly and placed a gentle kiss on his soft organ. "I just love it like that."
He grunted as her soft lips traced a delicate pattern along what was left of his manhood.
"Don't forget," she cooed between gentle kisses, "you promised I could have it anytime."
"Jesus! You don't want to fuck again!"
"No, silly." She took the head of his penis between her lips, gently sucked an inch of it within her hot mouth, and then gave a gentle, playful bite before releasing it again to kiss the spot she had nipped. "That was the most. I don't think I'll ever feel that much at once again." She hesitated a moment, looking at him with soft, quizzical eyes. "But I know I'll want to. Even when I've come off, I still want you way up high in me. It's ... well, it's good, that's all."
He watched as she again kissed him gently and he lowered one hand to stroke the silken texture of her long hair. "You're a hell of a good lay," he said. "You can't convince me you learned all that in one day."
"You think so?"
He nodded.
"Better than the rest of your old girl friends?"
"Much better."
She seemed thoughtful for a moment, then she smiled, her slow, agelessly mature, taunting smile. "Who knows," she said as she kissed him again. "Maybe I've just got an instinct for fucking."
He didn't answer. The truth was so apparent. Still stroking her hair with his left hand, he lifted his right to flick out the single bedside lamp which was still burning. This, he knew, would be their last night together like this-free in the house without the snooping morality of their parents. If he wanted her again, he knew she would be willing, but he also knew that they would have to sneak off somewhere. He could never get away with waiting until his parents slept and then walking down the hall to their room. Ann was too unreliable. Besides, when she was coming she had a tendency to scream. One scream like that and anyone within a hundred yards would know it wasn't from stepping on a nail.
Maybe, he thought as Sue's lips continued to peck at his flaccid penis, covering it with gentle warmth but unable to raise it to another erection, maybe he could take his kid sister to a drive-in or something like that. Then he visualized the awkwardness of trying to do it in the front seat of a car. It would be pretty bad if one of the theater cops spotted them going hot and heavy at it, and then found out that the girl was not only under-age but also his sister.
Finally he stopped thinking. All he could do was enjoy this last night together with the two of them. He reached out and stroked Ann's thigh. She made a little groan in her sleep as her hips moved closer to his head. He turned slowly and planted one soft wet kiss directly on the closed, but still damp, line of her vagina.
She groaned again, and without any passion he slipped his tongue easily past the outer labia. Her hips snuggled closer. Maybe, he thought, she was also licking on Sue's opening. All he really knew in the dark was that Sue had now stopped her tender ministrations to his penis and had again taken the soft flesh into her mouth.
He felt in his heart that he would never be hard again, but still he could not deny the pleasure of the sweet sensation her mouth was giving to him. She moved in delicate loving movements, not so much expressing her desire for him, he knew, but rather worshiping the organ he possessed.
He in turn twisted slightly on his side so that he could better savor the nectar now beginning to flow from Ann's exhausted vagina. It was a lazy movement without passion-a snuggling half-asleep movement that would ease them into the arms of Morpheus.
Ann felt the wet tongue caressing her, but did not pull herself from sleep entirely. Instead, she moved her head on her sister's thigh, found the already-parted dew-dropped lips there, and began slowly to kiss their pink folds.
And so they slept, in a triangle, each with mouth against the sexual organ of another, each savoring and being savored at once. As sleep encompassed them completely, both John and Ann withdrew their tongues from the sweet lips they had been tasting, but Sue was more fortuitous, or perhaps more demanding.
Although the penis on which she had been sucking was thoroughly drained and exhausted-completely incapable of rising again without a long and complete rest-she still insisted upon holding it in her mouth. She slid her tongue and lips over it many times before closing her eyes in sweet sleep, but before she dozed off she pulled as much of it as she could into her mouth, held it tightly there for a moment and then, sure that the source of her utmost pleasure would remain within her throughout the night, fell into blissful sleep.
* * *
They were lying that way at two o'clock in the morning when Mr. and Mrs. Brillard entered the house. The first thing they noticed after flicking on the lights in the living room were the three scattered piles of clothing on the living room floor.
John Brillard and his wife exchanged glances. Each was sure he realized what the clothing meant. Each was unwilling to admit his darkest suspicions to the other. They were both exhausted. The people they had gone to visit over the weekend had been forced to call the meeting short when the husband was unexpectedly called away on business. Rather than staying the added day as they had originally expected, John Brillard had decided to return home a day early. The drive had been tiring, but now the sight of his children's scattered clothing in his own living room came as a final blow. Without bothering to look, he was sure what he would find in the upstairs of the house.
His wife, too, seemed to become quietly unbalanced by the discovery. "Oh, John," she gasped. "I can't believe ..."
John Brillard realized that he was facing a situation that could only become worse if not handled with the utmost tact. The one thing he didn't want was for his wife's ever-proper morality to fly into a fit of Puritanic anger. Psychological scars could result and the children might be damaged for the rest of their lives. Young Johnny, he knew, should have known better, but maybe he had been the instigator. Ann he couldn't believe, but Sue was probably just old enough, yet young enough, to want to experiment.
He put his arm around his wife's shoulders and pulled her tight against him. She had already started a barely controlled flood of tears. He suggested that they try to forget the tell-tale clues of sexual abandon until morning. They might, after all, he suggested, mean absolutely nothing. After all, they were only clothes, and the kids weren't the neatest.
"But the panties," she sobbed, "the bra?"
"It doesn't really prove anything," he said as he led her up the stairs. He told her to wait at the landing and softly walked along the hall to the master bedroom. There he inched the door open and saw the triangular pattern of his children's lust spread out before him. Johnny's head rested on Ann's thigh, Ann's on Sue's thigh, and Sue still held the tip of Johnny's penis in her half-smiling mouth.
John Brillard closed the door of the room as silently as he had opened it and tiptoed back to his wife. He told her they would have to remain calm, that the children could not be awakened. He explained the psychological risk to their mental health and made his wife promise not to open the door of the main bedroom.
Choking back her tears, Martha Brillard promised what her husband asked and meekly followed him to their daughters' room.
There, he insisted that she take two sleeping tablets and waited until she dozed in drug-induced sleep before he again went downstairs in hopes of sorting his own thoughts.
From under the built-in oven, John Brillard selected one of the three bottles of bourbon, uncapped, it, and with meticulous movements poured a liberal dosage into a tumbler. Leaving the bottle on the counter beside the sink, he turned to the refrigerator, opened the freezer section, and scooped out a double handful of ice-cubes. He filled the glass with cubes, tossed the three extra ones into the garbage disposal and, waiting a moment for the water to run cool and fresh from the tap, filled the glass.
He turned the light out in the kitchen, walked to the living room, and sat down in his favorite chair. He looked around the room, again let his eyes linger on the scattered pile of clothes as his mind recalled the vision of sensuous depravity he had witnessed illuminated by the hall light upstairs.
Taking the pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket, he jerked it slightly so that one of its contents snapped up. He slid it from the pack with his lips, put the pack on the table beside him and sparked flame to the lighter there. Still with slow methodical gestures, he raised the flame to his cigarette, inhaled deeply and then replaced the lighter on the table.
Only then did he take the cigarette from his mouth, put it in the ashtray on the end table, and sip the first taste of his drink.
His mind seemed to swim in a sea of indecision. Should he have charged into his own bedroom, awakened his incestuous children and had it out with them in brutal language? Or was he doing the right thing by waiting-by letting a few hours help perhaps to bring objectivity to his mind?
He took another long sip of the drink and glanced again to the clothing on the floor. His eyes rested on the single brassiere Ann had discarded during her morning striptease.
Absently, John Brillard noted the large size of the cups. He considered the fact that his daughter was no longer a child. If breasts were the measure of maturity, she was a woman grown. How could he hope to deal with a woman?
He took another pull at his drink and, still holding the glass, raised the cigarette again to his mouth. And Sue, he thought. What about Sue? He glanced from the discarded jeans and the old man's shirt to the flimsy, delicate panties that had covered the young girl's adolescent hips that morning. She, too, must be grown.
Again the vision of his youngest daughter's half-smiling face came to mind-the vision of her curled contented and naked in bed with her own brother's soft penis held in her mouth as she breathed like a fluffy kitten with a belly full of warm milk.
He lifted the glass again to his lips, this time almost shocked to find that it was empty. With no more than mild chagrin, he realized that he hadn't been sipping. He had been gulping the alcoholic mixture. But he didn't care. He had to relax his mind somehow.
He rose from where he had been sitting, poured himself another stiff drink in the kitchen and returned to the living room. This time, however, he did not sit down. Instead, he walked to the pile of Ann's discarded clothing, bent over and picked up the brassiere.
Again he realized, almost with a mild shock, how large a development his eldest daughter had.
Holding the undergarment in one hand, he returned to the chair, took a last puff of his cigarette and again sat down to sift his thoughts. This time, however, his mind was even more cluttered. As he kept lifting the glass to his mouth, as he lit another cigarette and tried to determine his proper course as a parent, he kept glancing down to his lap and the flimsy brassiere resting there. And each time he did so, he again recalled the curled posture of Ann, upstairs in his bed, her thighs parted to hold Johnny's head, her own head resting against Sue's more slender legs.
Again, he drained his glass and refilled it. Was he going insane? Was it the liquor? the humid summer heat after a full day of rain, or some deep-seated hereditary imbalance in his blood?
He realized with a shudder of terrible guilt that he wanted his own daughter. With even more trepidation, he realized that, as he sat there trying to calm himself, he was actually stirring himself into a passionate state by being unable to tear the vision of his older daughter from his mind's eye.
Desperate now, barely able to control the lust that had replaced his earlier feelings of parental responsibility, he returned to the kitchen to pour another drink. This time he didn't add either water or ice. He stood over the sink, bra still in his left hand as he looked for a moment out the open window over the dark expanse of back yard. And again, he saw a vision of Ann. This time she was standing there naked, beckoning him with one hand as she cupped her huge breasts with the other.
He shook his head to clear it, saw the vision in the darkness disappear, and he lifted the drink to his lips. He downed the contents of the glass in one searing gulp, reached for the bottle, then stopped.
The fingers of his left hand clutched the brassiere, those of his right hovered over the bottle. Finally, the tortured expression on his face relaxed.
"What the hell," he said half-aloud. "It's not like I'm thinking of raping her. I mean, if she's spreading it around to everyone else. Hell, she's no better than a tramp ... a little, big-titted seventeen-year-old tramp. I'll fix her wagon ... fix her wagon good!"
He turned from the kitchen, and without bothering to switch off the lights, crossed the living room and mounted the stairs two at a time. His steps were firm and determined as he walked along the hall. He did not hesitate even at the door to the master bedroom.
Quietly he turned the knob and opened it, and again saw the triangular pattern of flesh. In the dim yellow of the hall light, Ann seemed even more young and lush than before. She was a vision of desire-a vision to stimulate any man to complete mind-bending lust ... any man ... even her own father.
Only when that final thought crossed his mind did John Brillard hesitate. He stood in the doorway staring at his children for several seconds, his eyes lingering longer on the full rich curves of his eldest daughter than on the flesh of the others.
He, too, suffered his moment of doubt, but like the others before him it was short-lived; the throbbing desire between his legs, already brought to complete erection by what he had actually seen and what he had only imagined, would not let him free.
The drink within him had relaxed any inhibitions he might have had. That, coupled with the sight of smooth teenage flesh curled before him, shattered what small isolated shreds might have remained of his self-control.
John Brillard took two paces into the room, leaned over the bed and put one hand over Ann's mouth. With the other, he shook her awake.
Her eyes opened slowly at first, then, when they adjusted to the dim light, widened in terror as she saw the frowning shadow of her father leaning over her naked form.
"Get up," he whispered sternly. "Get out of that bed and follow me."
Without speaking, her back bent and eyes downcast, Ann slid from the bed and stood before her father. Obediently she followed him to the hall and down its length to her brother's room. There he waited until she entered before him, then snapped on the light and closed the door with ominous finality behind him.
"Little slut!" he said. His eyes ran from her face, down over her full, trembling breasts to the tangle of blonde hair still damp between her rounded thighs.
"Dad, please," she started to beg. "You don't-"
"Don't I? You think I don't? I saw enough. Tried to raise you like a decent lady and you wind up a tramp with your own brother and little sister. You're probably passing out ass to every cunt-hungry prick in the neighborhood."
"No! Honest. I never ..."
"Bullshit. Well, I'll tell you something, young lady. You're not going to get away with it." His voice began to tremble slightly as if the emotions bubbling within him might explode any minute. "No sir. Think you know all about fucking, do you? Well, I'll show you a thing or two myself."
Ann stared at her father in amazement. Now she understood, and with the understanding came safety. Instantly, she realized the truth behind the situation. He wanted her. What was more, if she gave in freely, he would be drawn into the trap. If so, no one would ever tell her self-righteous mother.
She took a pace toward her father. Her eyes lifted to glow with womanly knowledge as she looked deep into his. Slowly, she extended a hand to touch the already rigid symbol of his manhood trapped beneath the fabric of his trousers.
"I'm sorry, Daddy," she purred. "I never thought ... I mean, I wanted you. I always wanted you, but I never thought you'd let me ..."
The final barrier of reserve seemed ripped from his shoulders. For a trembling, turgid moment he stood gazing into his daughter's eyes before he reached out and pulled her tight against him.
CHAPTER SIX
Their first kiss was brutal in its passion-lips slamming against teeth, tongues violently darting out to smash against the delicate tissues inside mouths.
He pushed his naked daughter back to the single bed in the room, tore at the buttons of his shirt as she, with what seemed like equal fervor, pulled at his belt and unzipped his trousers. In a mere second or two he was stark naked before her, his body covered by a slight layer of mature fat, yet his sexual organ extending before him a full two inches beyond the younger, more slender member Johnny has used with her earlier.
She gasped, half in pleased amazement, half in fear as he pushed her roughly to her back and without further ceremony mounted above her and forced the hard rock of his desire deep within her still-partially-dry womb.
It hurt at first. She wasn't that ready, but as he began to pump vigorously within her, the glands controlling expression of desire opened their gates to send sweet honeyed dew cascading along the walls of her vagina to slither along his thrusting piston lubricating its violent passage.
This was different than anything she had felt before! This time she was full-completely full-not with the slender shaft of a boy but with the larger, more powerful organ of a man. How she could ever have been afraid of such a thing only a day before amazed her. Here was speed, drive and stamina that Johnny in all his wild dreams could never match.
Her father plowed into her and pulled back to slam hard and fast again, never slowing his pace, never allowing even the faintest hint of denial.
It was so thoroughly good that she could not resist the pure animal pleasure of it. She pulled him tight to her with her arms, arched her hips and snaked her legs around his back as the throbbing machine of his hips slammed into her again and again-a human dynamo of perpetual motion.
Without variety of position or rhythm, they remained that way for an eternity. She clenched her teeth against her first orgasm but could not hold it back. She wanted to scream, but fought against it. She could not have imagined such unbelievable control! He merely pumped in and out, in and out, always scraping the top of his huge shaft hard against the fiery flesh of her erect clitoris, sending a double shiver of sensation crashing through her with each ever-deeper thrust.
"Oh, God, Daddy," she heard herself moaning from an infinite distance. "Oh, God! Fuck me! Fuck me!"
"I'll fuck you, you little tramp," he grunted in her ear, "I'll fuck you so you never lay with anyone else. I'll split your whole insides open, you bitch!"
"Oh, yes," she gasped. "Do it. Do it good!"
Again she felt the waves of release begin to slide out of her. She didn't know she had that many orgasms in her! Each one drained her thoroughly and yet each new hard thrust of his shaft within her started a new rise to pleasure.
Again, she cascaded to supreme pleasure, but his hard demanding motions would not stop. Even though she no longer had the strength to keep her legs twined around his back, no longer was able to arch her hips or meet his violently thrusting demands, he kept on, oblivious to her exhaustion.
In half consciousness, she realized that she was really being raped, that he was making her climax again and again in a brutal attempt to kill her. Yet a third time she began to rise to the peak of pleasurable release, wondering how many more surges of abandon he would demand from her before allowing his own release.
"Oh, please," she murmured as the pleasure increased, as she felt the surge of tidal wave begin to wash through her, threatening to flood away body and soul in one cleansing torrent of undreamed-of passion. "Come! Come in me, Daddy. Come in me!"
And as her own body and spirit crashed violently on a somewhere shore she was doubly shuddered by his own convulsions. Within her the hard rod of his passion slammed farther up than it had ever been, actually hitting and spreading the mouth of the cervix and pressing almost up into her womb.
She felt the hot jet of his sperm scald her insides as his entire body was convulsed by an earthquake of gigantic proportions.
"Oh God, Daddy!" she cried again, "Oh, sweet God."
As the final spasm convulsed her, she was able again to lift her legs and arms to twine around his still spasming body, and pull the violent human machine of her own father tight against her as both grunted like animals fighting to achieve a tighter and tighter congress.
And then, almost as suddenly and violently as it had begun, it ended. He pulled roughly away from her, withdrew his still partially erect penis and stood beside the bed.
She was too exhausted to do more than lie where she was, legs spread wide, arms akimbo, a slim rivulet of white liquid running from her wide open vulva to drop silently into the coverlet under her.
He stood looking down at her, the hard expression that had covered his face earlier now replaced by one of slight bewilderment.
"Oh, God, Daddy," she sighed, but then could find no words to complete her thoughts.
The look of bewilderment still clouded his eyes, this time mingling softly with one of smug appreciation. He let his eyes roam the length of her reclining body, savored the satiated exhaustion mirrored on her face, the glistening sweat that had matted her blonde hair and the twin mounds of huge young breasts still heaving up and down as she tried desperately to suck air into tortured hangs. Still without speaking, his eyes lowered to her glistening stomach, her widely spread legs and to the gaping cave at their juncture.
"Slut," he said. "You've been fucking everyone in town!"
"No, Daddy. I-"
"Bet you've been sucking them off, too."
"I-"
"I'll show you what sex is, you bitch."
She watched as he again mounted the bed, straddled over her and walked along the length of her body on bent knees. She looked up to see the still dripping tip of his penis hovering before her mouth, the scrotum dangling below her chin.
"Suck it!" he demanded. "Suck it up again, you cunt." He forced the half-flaccid organ toward her mouth as his hairy buttocks settled hard on her heaving chest.
All she could see was the glistening wet knob in front of her. All she could feel was the heavy pressure of his buttocks on her chest, and then the brutal pull of his hands behind her head, lifting it violently-almost threatening to break her neck-as they pulled her toward his member.
She opened her mouth as he leaned farther forward. Then it was in her, tasting of sperm and her own fluids, huge and filling even though partially relaxed.
As he thrust forward, she pulled it deeper into her oral cavity-sucked hard on it and drew it almost against the top of her throat. Then, completely dominated by the thing in her mouth, the weight on her chest and the demanding, arrogant personality that controlled them, she submitted.
Almost willingly, certainly with impassioned eagerness, she began to work her tongue rapidly around the shaft as her head bobbed up and down to slide along its length. She grasped the base of the thick organ in her right hand, complementing the hot movements of her mouth so that she knew he could feel sensation along the entire length of his virility.
As she did so, he continued to thrust violently against her throat, to grunt and to mutter.
"Suck it, you bitch. Suck it hard again and I'll fix you so you never fuck any more. God damned slut, fucking everyone-passing out ass like peanuts. Suck it! Suck it!"
Something in his passionate anger stimulated her. Blindly, without quite realizing why, she knew that she was enjoying this submission to parental will-this complete enslavement under the heavy body of her father. In her mouth she could begin to feel new life rising in the organ she sucked, and she increased the pressure of her lips and tongue-the rhythm of her bobbing head along the length of his shaft.
She was involved! She was hopelessly involved now, and could think of nothing except the penis she was bringing to new life. She could no longer feel the heavy pressure of his buttocks on her chest. It might have been the caress of twin feathers on her sensitive breasts as he twisted slightly, moving back and forth to complement the motions of her lips on him.
She began to moan in her own ecstasy as the shaft became ever harder in her mouth, filling it completely. Between her legs she could feel the familiar tingling of her own desire mounting again. She wanted it in her mouth, but she also wanted it again to fill her body as it had a moment before.
She longed for the brutal, filling thrust of it in her again and yet could not seem to pull her lips away.
It was hard now-totally rigid and ready for penetration. She thought it was so hard it could go through a steel wall. She sucked hard on it one final time and then lay back exhausted, gasping hard for a moment until she was able to speak. Above her she could see the hard lines of her father's face as he leered down.
"Oh, Daddy," she gasped. "Oh, Daddy ..."
He didn't speak. His lips twisted in a half sneer-half smile.
And then, with her last gasp of energy, she sighed what could have been her last mortal wish. "Oh, Daddy, fuck me again. Put it in ... fuck me, fuck me ..."
He still rested on the soft cushion of her breasts, for a moment looking down at the gasping face, at the half-closed eyes and parted lips wet with saliva and their mixture of sexual fluid. Then, with determined gestures, yet without his original brutality, he slid down the length of her body and again planted his turgid shaft deep and high within her.
She gasped as she felt it enter and slide ever higher until the hard pressure of its head hit the barrier of her cervix. "Oh, God, Daddy ... oh, sweet Jesus!"
"Fuck, you bitch!" he gasped in her ear. "Fuck your horny heart out!"
He slammed against her and she arched to send him even deeper. The pleasure mingled with pain and she knew she was going insane with the sensation. Nothing existed but the full hard shaft plowing within her with driving demand. She had come so much she didn't know if she could rise to the peak of release again; but it didn't matter-just the hard flesh within her mattered. She drove her hips high against his, clawed her fingers along his back and down over the rising and falling mounds of his buttocks. She clawed at his scrotum, pulling and tugging, hoping blindly to pull that, too, within her hot demanding body.
Her legs thrashed up and relaxed. She was completely out of control, writhing and twisting under him, trying to get more and more of the huge member inside her. She didn't care if it penetrated her stomach, her lungs, her heart. She didn't care if he thrust hard enough to spatter her brain and splinter the skull above. There was nothing but this hot pounding piston churning between her legs, pounding deeper and deeper within her with every thrust, raping her dreadfully, abusing her flesh, yet with the very abuse sending waves of ecstasy through every nerve of her body.
Her nipples were tingling under the heavy weight of her father's chest. She knew her entire body was flushed. Her fingers were clasped and unclasped-completely free from the control of her brain. Again she clawed her nails along the line of his spine, this time feeling the more viscous slip of blood mingled with the layer of perspiration there, but apparently he too was insensitive to the pain.
She clasped and kneaded his buttocks, pulling it tight to her and then letting her fingers flutter out of control as the great shaft pounded and throbbed within her.
Then she felt, rather than heard, his heavier breathing, vaguely sensed the gasps of breath against her ear.
"Come, you bitch," he gasped. "Come off good so your fucking ass explodes with it. I'll make you come, you cunt. I'll make you know what fucking is!"
The words, the gasps, the pounding force within her, all combined to begin a different shiver or pleasure through her. She was-she was going to come again! This time she could feel it crawling from the bottoms of her feet, from the very roots of her hair, slithering from top to bottom of her body, winding, twisting, slowly at first-each sensation striving to reach the center point, the hot wet swamp of desire in which the cores of their two beings writhed and twisted in impossible lust.
"Come, you cunt!" He grunted again.
This time she could feel the uncontrollable throbbing of his huge organ within her, snapping back and forth as it still continued to thrust in and out. Again the hot spurt of molten semen jetted high into her, threatening to scald her insides with its temperature and power.
He thrust again and she arched her hips higher to meet his. Her own waves of pleasure had reached knee and stomach and were moving faster now to crash together. She could not let him go-could not allow him to pull free before she experienced the ultimate, supreme pleasure which he promised to give her.
Again she lifted her knees, locked her ankles together as she clawed her fingers down his back, pulling his body as tight to her as she could.
And then she heard a faraway sound coming from some dense primeval jungle. The two waves of passion crashed together in her groin, spattered apart and crashed again.
She knew she was screaming, but she couldn't stop. Her entire body was being bounced and shattered from within. Rolling, twisting, slithering, out of control, her inner nerves each seemed to be exploding at once so that the combined force of their concussion wracked her entire form. She had no body, no mind. She was being swirled up in a kaleidoscopic maelstrom that swayed and twisted over hot seas.
There were spatters of color and sound. Her scream was coming from the lips of another. The grunts in her ear were echoing inside her head, yet coming from another century, but still the hard demanding thrusts of hip against hip would not cease. The delicate nerves of her inner body continued to explode. Each seemed to be possessed of a multiple atomic warhead that could shatter once and then again and again. She could not stop.
The orgasm raged throughout her. It consumed utterly and then flowed again, washing hot oil over her soul, swirling her into oblivion until finally, centuries after it had begun, she heard the far-off scream stop, felt the slow, sweet ebb of passion gradually subside, and fell back limp on the bed, hardly realizing what had happened.
A moment more the great thing within her throbbed and thrust-the great weight rested on her chest, and then it gradually lifted.
Her father rose on his elbows, then on his palms until his body hovered over her. She opened her eyes to see his exhausted face, the rumpled wet hair flecked with grey at the temples, and then down over the matted fur of his chest to where his huge penis still lay buried deep within her. She tried to contract her vaginal muscles, but couldn't muster the strength. She was drained, exhausted -orgasmed out of the real world into a soft, sweat-drenched euphoria that she prayed would never end.
They remained that way for a long moment, he gazing down at her, she looking up at him, their faces mirroring exhausted bewilderment. Then, he rocked slightly back so that a bare inch of huge glistening penis withdrew from her sodden flesh. He looked down to where their bodies joined and then moved his hand to the point. Still with determination, yet without any brutality this time, he touched her quivering clitoris, ran his finger around the very tip of it and then let it slide over the moist length to circle the member. Still staring down at her gaping vagina and the partial length of his own organ resting above it, he moved his finger lightly back and forth in, at first a slow, and then a more rapid, rhythm.
Each movement sent an added spasm of half-orgasm through her. She had not stopped, she knew. Somehow he was forcing little half-explosions to come again to her already ruptured nerve endings.
"Oh, Daddy," she gasped. "Don't. I can't anymore. I can't. You're making me come again and I can't."
His finger slid from the erect tip of her clitoris to the base until it touched the flesh of his own organ. Slowly he stroked the entire length of the hobbling nipple, then encircled it with finger and thumb to slide again up to the tingling tip.
"Oh, God," she gasped as the fire shot through her again. Involuntarily, she ticked her hips in response, letting every surge of passion roll through her, continuing to bring her again higher and higher to the pinnacle to release.
Then it happened-the impossible! She snapped, gasped once and felt the last surf of pleasure crash over her in one, violent wave of supreme passion.
She lay back completely drained, hardly feeling the movement away from her, hardly hearing the soft liquid sound as the huge penis was withdrawn from her. She opened her eyes to see her father rise from the bed, stand looking down at her a moment and then reach for his shirt and trousers.
He dressed without speaking, zipped and buckled his trousers, buttoned his shirt and then sat down beside her to replace his shoes and socks. He tied the laces of his shoes, replaced his feet on the floor, and then turned to where she still lay sprawled on her back, breasts heaving, legs spread wide.
He reached out and touched her still-gaping vagina with the index finger of his left hand, let it remain there for a moment, then rubbed its top against her clitoris as he pushed his finger deep into her sodden opening.
This time the pleasure was a little tingle, but still very real. She moved her hands to cover his, to entrap the single digit within her.
"Oh, Daddy," she managed. "It was so good. Can we? I mean ..."
He moved his finger within her. "You're a damned good piece of ass," he said. "Where'd you learn all this? How long have you been fucking around without me knowing it?"
"I never-"
"Bullshit!"
She felt the scrape of pain as his fingernail clawed against the delicate walls of her vagina.
"Honest, Daddy," she said. "Up to yesterday I was cherry. I never once made it with anyone."
"And just like that ... in one day you turn into a cock-crazy whore. You don't think I was born Wednesday morning, do you? I've screwed a few women in my time, Ann ... some of them pros. You know more about fucking than any of them. You don't learn that in one day."
She still pressed her hands tightly over her vaginal opening to hold his finger there, but now as she looked up to him, her eyes seemed to be pleading. Slowly, as he stroked her wet inner flesh, she told him what had happened while he and her mother were away.
She explained every detail about her date and his demands, about wanting to maintain her virginity as far as the community was concerned, but coming home to find her brother naked, poised over Sue about to thrust himself into her.
She couldn't explain what had gone on in her mind. Seeing Johnny like that, maybe, seeing a man's erection for the first time, something had snapped within her, but she was still determined to remain virgin. Then when Johnny had ruptured her hymen with the vibrator, she couldn't get enough.
"I just couldn't, Daddy. Honest. We've all been fucking all day. We didn't think you'd be back until tomorrow."
"Gave you a little surprise, eh?"
"Oh, Daddy, that was the best surprise ever. Let's do it again. Please?"
"Maybe," he said. "I hardly think your mother would like the idea, though." He pulled his finger free and stood up. "Get some sleep," he said as he walked to the door.
She saw his hand reach for the light switch, heard the soft click and lay in total darkness for a moment until he opened the door and the dull shaft of light crept in from the hall. She saw him turn into the room again, knew he was savoring the naked contours of her body with hungry eyes for a last moment, then heard him whisper.
"Yes, Ann, you're a damned good piece of ass."
The door closed. He was gone. She placed her hands over her vagina and let one finger slip into the wet folds. It was good, but it didn't feel the same. Strangely, she thought as her eyes closed, she was frustrated again. She wanted that huge filled feeling of her father's penis in her one more time-one more time that would last forever.
* * *
Despite the drugs she had taken, Martha Brillard twisted in troubled sleep. She did not hear her husband return to the room in which she slept, remained completely unaware of the soft sounds of his undressing and the rustle of sheets and coverlet as he slipped into the bed beside her.
Her mind was churned by other sounds and images. When she had entered the front door of her house that evening-had seen the scattered pile of clothing there-she knew. There was no doubt in her mind while she and John had been away, their three children had paraded naked through the house, perhaps even worse. The visions of their young supple bodies tortured her sleep, for she knew that they had not been content to limit their experimental play to the mere physical freedom of nudity.
Martha Brillard had been raised under a stringent moral code that forbade premarital sexual behavior, insisted on ultimate propriety and linked physical pleasure tightly to sin. Her first experience had been a shattering affair on the night of her wedding to John. He had been so coarse, so brutal, so demanding of her body, her virginity, that something had soured within her.
She had complied with his wishes, given him the children he wanted, but had never been able to attain climax under his rough caress. Sex with John had always been an impure thing-an animal thing. Yet always in the back of her straight-laced mind lurked the serpent of unrequited passion. What would it be like with another, more gentle, more understanding man?
She had looked and thought many times during their twenty years of marriage, but always the strict morality of her upbringing had conquered her purely physical urges and her desperate female curiosity. Sometimes she had weakened in the face of her desires, had allowed John to force his brutal hard way into her unwelcoming body, and then, when he had spent himself spurting hot seed into her womb, had rolled away from him to surreptiously insert her own more gentle finger into her painful opening. Then the pain had left her as she gently, tenderly, stroked the moist flesh and felt the little bubble of her clitoris rise to receive the faint pleasure it always craved.
But she had only dared bring herself to complete climax that way on isolated and rare occasions. Something in the act was, she thought, dirty and sinful. She should have been content with her husband. She should have felt the deep and intense female response of which so many doctors and clergymen spoke. But she couldn't, and the substitute of giving herself ultimate, shuddering pleasure with her own hand had always brought with it spasms of guilt more intense than the pleasure she hoped she could receive. Almost always she had forced her finger away before the waves of orgasm began to drown her. She couldn't let John know of her secret desires-that she might love him as a man, as a husband and a father, but that as a sexual partner she hated him for the release his brutality had denied her.
This night, twisting in drug-induced sleep, the childhood inhibitions planted by her own parents mingled with the horrible visions of her children's lust, which she knew in her secret heart had turned all three of them into sex-crazed animals.
Her dreams swam in visions of naked teenaged flesh twining and churning in a great sensual mass. She watched with her mind's eye as Ann and Sue twisted in forbidden lesbian passion.
Her head twisted on the pillow. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, and her dreams wondered what it might be like if another woman, instead of a man, touched her private parts with knowing and gentle kisses.
Again she rolled in the narrow bed. Still the twisting forms danced in her mind, but this time she saw her son-tall, lean, muscular Johnny. Nineteen-year-old Johnny home from college bringing with him all the sweet texture and hard beauty of youth.
Her dreams savored his naked form and saw the huge erect phallus extending from his hips. Then the phallus grew larger, and it was little Sue growing from her brother's groin, reaching out to her mother, her tongue extending and retracting, licking lips but coming ever closer to her own aching flesh.
Then Sue was gone, rolling in depraved abandon with Ann, their young firm breasts flattening hard to one another, their hips ticking in primitive rhythm as their mouths joined in impossible caresses.
But the vision of Johnny never left her. He grasped the huge curving organ with one hand and beckoned her with another. She was drawn to him-to his youth and muscular torso-to the faint, gentle smile that played over his sensuous lips and brought forbidden fire to his handsome face.
She flowed on a sea whose currents she couldn't control, ever closer to the hypnotizing organ waving and beckoning her ever nearer with a power she had no strength to resist.
Then it was her father, stern, moralistic, hovering behind Johnny, his cane in his hand, his deeply-lined face frowning. She saw him wave the cane at her in a gesture of forbidding, but then her father too was naked, the cane was a huge, long penis waving in his hand and he was laughing behind Johnny.
As he laughed, the two dream figures turned, and she saw the horror of what they were doing. Her body twisted again in the bed, her knees curled against her chest and her father's image disappeared.
Again there was nothing but her little baby-her son, Johnny, now grown. Now he was a man and he still held the shaft of his manhood hard and curved before him, pointed at her, beckoning, demanding.
She flowed toward him in a mist of euphoria and felt the first touch of the shaft touch her aching flesh. It slipped deeper and deeper within, deeper and deeper until her body was filled with it and it still continued to penetrate. Johnny was miles away, but the shaft of the dream organ was buried a foot, two feet, four feet in her.
She could feel it throbbing in her chest, slipping up out of her mouth so that at once she could see it buried in her vagina and extending from her parted lips.
Her hips ticked, her lips moved. The ancient morality, the blind restrictions of her childhood were gone now; there was nothing but the huge thing within her pulsating now as it began to move both in her mouth and along the hot dampness of her vagina.
She moaned in her sleep, twisting tighter into herself so that her knees touched her breasts. Yet the vision of the dream was not of her own knees but of Johnny's gentle hands softly caressing the sensitive flesh, bringing the nipples to first arousal, tingling them alive and filling the breasts beyond with the milk of motherhood again. She felt her insides swell and saw the twin jets of milk spurt from her breasts, covering her son's face in sweet liquid which he now avidly licked from her breasts and torso.
He was crawling on her now, covering every tingling inch of her body with sweet kisses, lapping the life-giving liquid like a favorite house pet as the long, impossible phallus of the dream continued to snake through her, rubbing clitoris and vagina to unbelieving response, sending fire and chill through her thorax, twisting and sliding around her heart and through every vein and artery. Still, it was in her mouth too and this time she felt that it, too, was spurting the same milk that continued to jet from her aching breasts.
Hot fluid spurted into her mouth and she sucked greedily to swallow every sweet scalding drop, to suck it down into her throat and stomach.
She writhed in her sleep, churning against the impossible sensations soaring through her. She twisted in the narrow bed as the long snake of penis pulled in and out of mouth and vagina.
And then, only half asleep now, she felt the gush of fluid from her genitals, rivers of glandular fluid seemed to be pouring out of her gaping vagina, running along her legs, turning the very bed in which she lay into a sea of warm oil in which she was drowning.
Her breasts continued to spurt milk, but now tingled as if they were being sucked inward and then out through the tiny pores of her throbbing nipples.
Her lips clasped tight on the head of the dream organ within her and then she crashed and thrashed in pleasure so intense she could never have imagined it.
The rolling, tidal wave of sensation that churned through her brought her to shocked wakefulness.
The dream was gone, but consciousness returned in small parts. She was lying on her side in Ann's bed. Her husband lay opposite her in Sue's. Her knees had been pulled tight and were pressing almost painfully against her breasts.
The river of fluid she had dreamed of was her own vaginal secretions that had flowed out of her open lips to wet her hand and cover the extended finger that still ticked involuntarily against the tingling nub of her clitoris.
The shaft in her mouth was her own left thumb on which she had been sucking.
With a shock of disgust, she realized that the images of her dream had made her masturbate involuntarily. Or could it have been that the thought of her children debasing themselves in her absence had made the masturbation come first and then the dream had followed?
Martha Brillard pulled the thumb from her mouth, but could not seem to muster the courage or strength to release her finger from the open, sodden protection of her hungry vagina.
She looked to her sleeping husband and then beyond to the window where the light of morning was already creeping through the drawn blinds. He lay on his side with his back toward her. He had stripped out of his clothing and fallen into bed without bothering to don pajamas.
Perhaps his own worry about the situation they would face, or perhaps the heat, had made him twist sufficiently to remove the covers from his torso.
It didn't register on her at once, but as she looked again to the eight scabbed furrows running the length of his back, she knew. They hadn't been there the night before on their visit. Certainly, she had never been passionate enough with him to scratch him like that!
She knew that John had had another woman, before the full shock of the realization registered on her drug-hangover mind. Not another woman-a girl. It could only have been Ann or Sue!
Still not completely awake, she flexed her finger within the hot lips of her vagina, sending an added tingle of ecstasy surging through her long-deprived body.
Again a vision of Johnny came to her mind, but this time there was no fantastic phallus and no guilt. He appeared only briefly as a lean, muscular nineteen-year-old youth, stripped naked but endowed with a normal erection, one that would be tender and understanding of a woman's subtle needs.
The guilt she had always felt previously was completely gone now. She didn't care whether John woke up and saw her or not. She didn't care for him or for his opinions. She rolled on her back and pulled the bed-clothes aside so that she could see her still slender body unscarred by the stretch marks of multiple childbirth. She lifted her knees, and with both hands gently inspected her open outer labia.
Then with firm determination, she inserted one finger into the wet cup of her denied desire and began methodically to masturbate herself, sighing heavily and contentedly as she did so.
As she administered constantly increasing pleasure to herself, the half vision of Johnny formed in her mind and she smiled. If her husband was going to play games with his daughters, if their children had all been savoring the forbidden joys of carnal arousal, what could be wrong if she, too, had some pleasure after all these years?
Her husband had been brutal, uncaring in his demands.
Her finger moved faster and with more pressure within her.
He had never cared about her own desires.
It spread lips and butterflied gently against throbbing clitoris.
But Johnny had always been a nice boy.
She clutched the soft flesh of one breast with her left hand.
He had always been polite to his mother.
She squeezed the nipple gently between thumb and forefinger.
Had always been considerate.
The tingle increased in her clitoris. The wave began to form deep within.
Had always been gentle.
It began to surge through her, making her breath come in heavy gasps, making her hips tic in response to the fluttering movements of her fingers ... making her crash headlong in sweet complete oblivion.
"Oh," she gasped as the full power of her release swept over her. "Oh, Johnny ... Johnny ..."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Breakfast that Sunday was strained. Each member of the Brillard family knew, at least in part, what the other members were thinking. John Jr. had been shocked to find Ann sleeping in his room. He had been even more shocked to learn that his parents had both returned unexpectedly. He rushed back to tell Sue, to urge her to help him make the big bed and to hide other clues to their pleasure of the previous day.
Brother and two sisters had showered separately, had hurried downstairs to collect their scattered clothing before their parents joined them. Johnny and Sue worked with guilty fury. Only Ann seemed casual and almost smug.
They were all sitting at the kitchen table when John and Martha finally joined them.
"Good mornings" were exchanged, and then a heavy, awkward silence seemed to drop over the room. Of all the people there, Ann and her mother seemed to be the only two completely at ease. The former wore an expression of smug sweetness on her face. The latter seemed strangely determined.
Mr. Brillard of all present seemed particularly ill at ease. His agitation increased when he glanced to Ann's sweetly smiling face, or when he looked to his wife. John Jr. ate silently, thinking only of escape from the house, waiting for the ax he was sure hung on the very ceiling above him to fall with crushing force on the back of his neck. Sue, sitting beside him, never let her eyes lift from the plate of cereal before her.
Mr. Brillard cleared his throat twice as if to speak, but the words never came out. His wife, confident, unhurried, and pleasantly calm, busied herself around the kitchen serving each member of the family, before pouring coffee into her cup and sitting at the foot of the table.
"Well," she said primly, as she replaced the cup in its saucer after her first sip. "Did you children have a good time while we were gone?"
Sue continued to look at her plate, John Jr. grunted. Only Ann looked to her mother, smiling sweetly. "Oh, it was all right," she said. "Only, it's good to have you back."
Mrs. Brillard looked from her eldest daughter to her husband. She in turn smiled. "Well, it's good to be back ... one big happy family."
John Jr. almost leapt from his chair as he felt his mother's hand under the table drop lightly to his right thigh and rest there. He looked to her, saw the strange calm expression in her eyes and again devoted his attention to his food.
"Do anything interesting?" his mother asked. The hand moved slightly along his thigh until it was almost at his groin.
"Oh," he managed. "You know ..."
"Just kiddie things?" his mother asked. Almost casually, she lifted her coffee cup again and looked at him over the rim.
"Yeah," he said. "Nothing much."
Mr. Brillard pushed his chair back from the table and lifted his half-finished plate of cereal. "Not too hungry this morning," he said. "Too many things on my mind. Think I'll run down to the office and see if everything's right for tomorrow."
Ann, too, pushed her chair back. "Can I go with you?"
"Well," he hesitated. "I don't-"
"Go ahead," his wife purred. "Why not take both of the girls?"
"I-"
This time, Mrs. Brillard's voice held a hard, knowledgeable edge. "It's all right," she said. "Johnny and I will clean up."
Sue looked from her mother to her sister and then to her father. Something strange was happening, she knew, but she wasn't quite sure what it was. Slowly she pushed her own chair back and rose from the table. She didn't want to ride with her father to his office. She hated the idea of her parents returning. She had been hoping to have at least the morning with her brother to feel once again the surge of impossible pleasure he was able to send through her with each thrust of his virile organ. But, feeling awkward, unsure of herself under the veil of half knowledge that hung over the room, she obediently followed her mother's wishes and followed Ann and her father out the back door to the garage.
Johnny still sat awkwardly looking at his plate. His mother's hand still rested on his thigh.
"I suppose you think you're in for it," his mother said.
"Well, I-"
"You probably think I come right out of Salem or Victorian England?"
"No, I-"
"Oh, I know what you've been up to. You left your clothes all over the living room. Your father even looked into our bedroom."
"He ... oh, no."
"Oh yes, Johnny. Then do you know what he did?"
John shook his head.
"I don't know which yet, but I'm pretty sure it's Ann. He had his way with her."
"He didn't!"
"I hope she enjoyed it. He can be a brutal man at times. He's not like you, Johnny ..." Her hand slid higher. Now it was resting directly on his groin, covering the soft lump of coiled genitalia there. "He's not considerate and gentle ..." The fingers moved slowly, exploring the inert flesh, sending trickles of forbidden emotion running along his nerve endings.
John Brillard looked to his mother, saw the faint, teasing smile in her eyes, but was still unsure of what she was saying.
"Mom ... you don't ... I mean-"
"Is it so strange, really? Am I so different from your sisters?"
"But ... I-"
She gave a final delicate squeeze to his genitals and rose from the table. "Come with me, Johnny," she half whispered as she extended her slender hand toward him.
Amazed, bewildered, his mind swirling in a confusion of wonder and doubt, John rose, took his mother's hand and allowed her to lead him out of the kitchen, through the living room, and up the stairs to the bed he and his sisters had shared the night before.
There she closed the door and stood for a long moment with her back resting against the wood. She let her eyes roll over his youthful form as he looked to her, seeing his own mother for the first time as a woman to be desired. She was still slender, still terribly beautiful, possessed of all the swelling and curving lines that separate a mature knowledgeable female from a mere girl-child.
"Don't you want to?" she taunted. "Don't you want to learn what it can be with a real woman?"
"Yes," he managed. "I guess so, but-"
"But, you're shy? Is that it?"
"Well-"
She crossed to him, gently lifted her hands and began to unbutton the front of his shirt. Her fingers moved with deliberate slowness, unbuttoning two buttons and then slipping beyond the opening to caress the hard flesh of his chest and side.
"Come," she purred. "I know you've done it before, but don't you want to learn? I can teach you Johnny-all about the secret places."
Now, for the first time, he fully realized that she wasn't just trying to humiliate or embarrass him. His mind reeled with the knowledge that his own mother-a woman he had always thought to be something of a Victorian prig-actually desired his body. It was almost too much to bear, but it was also too much to deny.
Eagerly now, he pulled at his belt and slipped out of his jeans and shorts to stand naked before her.
She remained still fully clothed, eyeing him with approval as she purred, "Not so fast, baby. We have all the time in the world." Her hand moved out to lift the weight of his scrotum, to balance it in her palm and test the heaviness of the testicles it held. The movement lifted his partially erect organ up, making it point toward her, and she again purred softly in obvious pleasure. She stood that way for a moment longer before releasing him, and then deliberately began to remove her own clothing.
As she did so, she spoke softly about the nerves of a woman's body, of how sensitive they were and how subtle a total arousal must be.
He watched the slender fullness of her naked body emerge from behind the confines of bra and panties and gasped aloud at the sheer sensuality of her form when it was finally revealed to him in all its mature glory.
Here was a woman unlike any he had seen before. Certainly she was older, but then age had not diminished her attractiveness. Instead it had added sensuality to her every feature. Her breasts were not primly erect like those of his sisters or the other girls whose young bodies he had savored while in high school and college. They were large, heavy, full of sweet maturity, yet not sagging or drooping with age. She was slender yet full-blown, her wide hips fairly screaming an unspoken welcome, her soft flesh inviting him to a passion more thorough, yet more subtle, than any he had ever known.
The mere vision of her lush, feminine form naked before him tingled his penis alive, so that it seemed to be growing out from him rather than merely engorging with pulsating blood that lifted it to turgid erection.
"Come," his mother said as she sat down on the huge bed and patted the coverlet beside her. "Come, sit here and be gentle with me." She stroked one hand along the inside of his left thigh as she spoke. "First, the breasts, baby ... softly, now. Take them in your hand first, gently. That's it, move your fingers all around, underneath and above. That's right, slowly, like that. Then you can circle around the nipple. See how it's beginning to get bigger? Oh, Johnny, that feels good. That feels sooo good!"
As she watched his gently massaging hand barely touching her breasts with tentative fingers, her own hand snaked out to explore his upper thigh and then to grasp the turgid shaft of his manhood. She let it slide down the length of his penis, waited there as she gently tightened and released the pressure of her fingers and then moved up again so that she pulled his foreskin high over the head of the organ.
"You like that, Johnny? Do you like it when I play like that?"
"Yeah," he managed. "It's good. Real good."
"You're young," she whispered as her hand moved slowly down again. "Can you come lots and lots?"
"Sometimes." His fingers kneaded the soft, pliable flesh of her breasts.
"I'll make you come, then," she purred. "It makes me feel good. You just be gentle, just move like that, right there on my breasts and I'll make you come." Again her hand moved with maddening slowness up and down along the length of his shaft. The rhythm never increased, never varied. He half-wondered whether she was trying to give him pleasure or whether she merely delighted in denying him the speed and friction which would bring him to more speedy release. And yet she seemed to know the exact degree of sensation he was feeling.
Up and slowly down. Slowly up and slowly down, the hand traveled along the length of his organ. Each time she reached the base, she squeezed slightly; each time she traveled again to the tip, she pulled the foreskin out, almost but not quite to the point of pain, before she squeezed again and then began the slow downward journey.
His breathing began to become heavier. He dropped his hand from her breast and stared fascinated at his own organ and her nimble fingers encircling it. "Oh, Mom," he gasped at length, "you're gonna make me come."
"Slowly, baby," she purred as she eased him on his back so that he now lay on the bed, his knees over the side and his feet stretched before him on the bedroom floor. "Hold it as long as you can, baby ... as long as you can." The rhythm of her hand never varied as she slid down so that she was between his spread legs. Her huge soft breasts now dangled over his thighs, barely touching their ruby nipples to his flesh.
"Oh, Mom ... I can't hold it."
"That's all right, baby. Let it go, now," she whispered. "Let it all go."
As her hand again descended to the base of his organ, she felt the first throb of his coming ejaculation. This time she did not squeeze as before. She released her gentle grip and leaned farther forward. With both hands, she lifted her great breasts and pushed them tight against the turgid, almost exploding organ, and with the soft roundness of them pressed securely there rocked gently back and forth, now letting her body maintain the rhythm which her hand had formerly played.
"Let it go," she whispered again. "Gently, baby. Let me feel it all over me." She rocked back and forth, her breasts tight to his throbbing organ, and then he felt the break, the crash of semen surf erupting from the very depths of his body, careening through the tube of his manhood and spurting high and hot between her tightly clasped breasts.
She continued her slow rocking movements long after the scalding flow had stopped and he lay exhausted on the bed. "Ummm, baby," she kept purring. "That's so hot and good. Was it good for you?"
"Oh, Mom ..."
"Oh, don't worry now. We'll do it again. Don't stop. I want to feel you, too."
"But I'm-"
"No. Gently, baby. Everything in its own time. I'll show you how to do that to me. How to really make a woman tingle. Here ..."
She climbed onto the bed with the grace of a stalking cat and sat Indian-style with her back resting against the headboard. "See," she said, and she gently pulled the crimson folds of her vagina apart to reveal the convolutions of the treasure within. "This is where it starts, but you have to know it, understand it. You can touch here all day and nothing would happen."
She ran one finger along the sweet dew damp folds of her outer labia.
"Here," she said, reaching out for his hand. "You try it."
He turned on the bed so that his head now rested on her full thigh-so that he could look directly at her treasure of love and explore every contour, every fold with his fingers.
As she whispered instructions to him, he dipped his finger into the hot dampness, sliding this way, pressing that way, and finally resting his touch against the base of her long clitoris.
"Gently, now," she kept saying. "Remember, be slow. If it comes all at once it's not that good. Tease me, baby. Make me wait and hold back, then when it comes it's better than anything."
He followed her instructions, mimicked the rhythm she had used with him before, and caressed and fondled each separate part as she indicated. Then, when after almost twenty minutes he heard the change in her breathing, the slight hesitation between each softly gasped word, he realized that she was trying desperately to prolong the pleasure of her expectations.
Her clitoris was high and erect now. It seemed to be twitching of its own accord under the gentle massage of his finger. The excitation of her breathing and softly sighed words was acting on him. The vision of her gaping vagina was like a lure hypnotizing him.
He felt her shudder slightly, saw her hips tic for the first time, and then, forgetting all that she had been saying about slowness and gentleness, rolled forward so that he could plunge his eager tongue into the scalding mass of ruby-red wet flesh.
"Oh, no!" she gasped and gave a futile, feeble push to remove him from her womb.
But then he felt her fingers twitching over his ears, pushing away one moment, and then the next twining through his hair, pulling him tight to her cavern of desire as her hips pressed hard and tight to his mouth.
Under his hungry lips he felt her shudder again and again, heard her sigh and gasp several times before the pressure against him released and he was able to pull free from her demands.
He looked up to see her still leaning against the headboard, but now with her head thrown back, her chin lifted and her eyes tightly closed.
She swallowed once, then opened her eyes to look down on him. "You know," she said at length. "I've never ... I mean, that's never happened to me."
He only stared at her in amazement, only half-wondering what kind of sex life she had experienced.
"Know something else?"
"What?"
"I had a dream," she said. "I dreamed I did it to you. Took you in me and then in my mouth. Would you like that, baby? Would you like me to kiss and lick you like you just did to me?"
"Sure ... I-"
She eased him onto his back, and with the same determined slowness she had shown before, lowered her mouth to his still-limp organ. As her wet lips slid over the tip and then down and down almost to the very base, she began to hum softly so that he could feel the vibrating of her inner mouth moving against him.
Slowly down and up she moved as she hummed softly against the ever hardening flesh within her mouth. When it was completely erect she pulled away and stroked it softly with her hand.
"Umm ..." she moaned. "That's good. Come in me like this, baby."
Something about her slowness, something about her very desire suddenly struck him as monstrous-depraved beyond all imagination. He liked what was happening, but he didn't want another half-ejaculation this time in her mouth. He wanted to bury himself in the hot cauldron of her groin that he had felt before.
"I want it in your snatch," he said.
"You will, baby." She sighed heavily as she again let her lips slide down the length of his organ. She began humming again, her tongue rolling around his shaft as she moved her cheeks rapidly in and out to squeeze and release his tingling flesh.
He stood it as long as he could before the fury consumed him utterly. He pushed her brutally away from him, and before she had a chance to realize what had happened he rolled her roughly on her back, spread her legs, and thrust his erect member deep into the folds of her vagina.
"No!" she gasped as he thrust and pounded into her hot flesh with the force of brutal demand. "Not this way, Johnny ... please, dear God, not this way ... gentle ... be gentle ..."
But there was no gentleness in him now, he was consumed totally by an overwhelming desire which had to be satisfied and had to be satisfied this way and this way alone. He could not move any less rapidly, could not forego the hot surging demands that sledge-hammered his mind and made him, in turn, sledge-hammer her hips.
He slammed into her, pulled away, and slammed into her again, rocking the huge bed with the terrible force of his slapping impacts.
"No ... please ..." she kept gasping, but he hardly heard her.
Her opening was wider than those of his sisters, but hotter and wetter too. He seemed to be pounding into hot honey that stuck to him and slid over him to run out of the bottom of her opening, drenching his scrotum, wetting the sheet in a great flood of sweet fluid.
And then it happened as he knew it would, with one great soundless roar as his back was pulled into him, sucked through his body and driven through his penis. Everything was his penis now, and all of him seemed to be in it and spurting through it.
"Come!" he gasped as his own fluid shot high and hot within her, but she did not reply.
When he finally realized that she had not responded to him, that her own breathing had not mounted to gasps and pants, it was an eternity later. He opened his eyes to look up to his mother's face.
She seemed much older than a moment before, and far sadder. Her eyes were glistening, not with desire but with tears of deep soul-searing sorrow. At first he was mystified, then embarrassed, and finally humiliated beyond all words.
"Mom ... I ... I thought you wanted-"
She stroked his head gently with the palm of one hand, as a slow, sad smile flitted across her lips. "So did I," she said, "But it was a dream. I wanted something gentle, something ... Oh, what's the use? It's done now. You wouldn't understand."
He looked to her desperately sad face, saw the lines of age there for the first time along with the gallant little smile that hid so little and revealed so much. "I'm sorry, Mom. I really am."
Again she stroked his head. "Now you know," she whispered. "And now you know why it can't happen again."
He rose from where she lay, looked again to her sensuously mature body and realized what she was saying. The crime, the horror of it since the beginning, swept over him. It was done, he knew and no freak of fate could ever turn back the hands of time. There could be no specter like the past if he let it haunt him, but he had learned something, too. He had learned the impossible joys of forbidden passion along with the destructive seed which it carried.
Had it been the heat, he wondered, the beer and frustration that first night so long ago? Or just the undisciplined wildness of youth trying to prove itself by flying headlong against the most ancient of taboos?
A slight breeze whispered through the room's open window and stirred the thin curtains. It mingled with the soft sobs of his mother, as he bent to retrieve his clothes and put them on.
After he had slipped his legs into his jeans and re-buttoned his shirt, he looked again to his mother. She still lay on the bed, but she had stopped crying. Her eyes were dry. One hand covered her pubic hair in scant modesty.
He swallowed. He could find no words to express the depth of his feelings. Yet she seemed to understand, as she had always understood, even from the time he had been an infant.
"It's all right, Johnny," she said as she reached out to squeeze his hand in maternal affection. "We all make mistakes."
He nodded dumbly and opened the door. Without speaking, he closed it behind him and walked slowly down the hall to his own room. "Yes," her words seemed to echo in his mind, "we all make mistakes."
But the trick was to avoid making the same mistakes over and over again until they destroyed you.
It was done and over, he knew, and it would never happen again. But he determined not to let his guilt gnaw at him like a cancer.
The weekend was over. Tomorrow would be Monday. He would never have another weekend like it again-
And in his heart of hearts, he didn't really want to.
EPILOGUE
In the car driving toward his office, John Brillard suffered mixed feelings of chagrin land alcoholic hangover. Ann sat next to him, Sue on the outside of the front seat.
Twice their father started to begin a conversation, but each time the words failed him.
They arrived at his office building, parked the car, and rode up to his suite in the self-service elevator. Then, just as they entered the door, Ann, oblivious to her sister's presence, turned to her father, twined her arms around his back and pulled him toward her parted lips.
For a second-no more-he resisted and then surrendered to the hot demands of her feverish lips.
"Oh, Daddy," she gasped as the embrace ended and she reached down to rub one hand over his hardening genitals. "Let's do it again ... here ... now ..."
He took a pace back, started to speak, but was interrupted before he began by Sue's angry voice.
"So that's what it was about at breakfast. I get it now. You two were fucking last night!"
"What's it to you?" Ann snapped.
Sue had already pulled the shirt tail out of her jeans and had unzipped the fly. As she fairly ripped the clothing from the slender curves of her adolescent body, she continued to talk.
"I'll tell you what it is to me!" she screamed. "I'm not letting you get first dibs on everything. Come on, Daddy, fair's fair. If you did it to her, do it to me, too."
She was completely naked now, standing before him with her fists resting on slender hips, her small, almost arrogant breasts jutting forward in womanly demand.
John Brillard looked to his naked fifteen-year-old daughter for a long time before he sighed and took a pace backward to lean against the receptionist's desk.
She was a vision of adolescent perfection-smooth, tender flesh, half mature young woman, half still partially child-the kind of Lolita-type vision that a thousand men might dream of. And here she was, offering-no, demanding-of her own father.
Without the alcohol of the previous night he could only feel shock. What, he "wondered, had his children been doing while he and Martha were away? They had tasted the fruits of mature sex life, yes-but they seemed to have been poisoned by them.
Despite the lure before him, he couldn't comply. He was totally impotent. Part of him-a tiny grey serpent buried deep in his mind-regretted it, but the great body of his thoughts was happy.
He shook his head. "No, Sue," he said. "Put on your clothes."
The young girl stared quizzically at her father for a moment, then, almost reluctantly, started to obey. As she dressed, he began to talk softly, to both her and Ann.
He told them about his knowledge of their weekend, explained his own drunken behavior of the night before and then began to speak of philosophy.
Their virginities could never be replaced, but they could not continue to destroy the family. Now that they had tasted carnal pleasure, there could be no return to innocence, but they must confine their physical joys to the world outside the family.
On the drive home from the office the three were still silent, but the heavy sense of oppression had vanished.. At home John Brillard found his wife wearing a nightgown now, lying alone in the bed they had shared for years. He wanted to confess to her about his behavior with Ann, but something in her eyes-something new and very tender-stopped him.
He looked down on her and thought of how beautiful she appeared, but there was no lust in him. For the first time in his life, he experienced a feeling of unfamiliar tenderness begin to flow through him. He leaned over the bed and gently, slowly, kissed her on the forehead.
"I never knew," he said. "I always thought of myself ... I never ..."
She reached up to run delicate fingers along his arm. "It's all right, John," she said. "There's time ... lots of time."
He sat down beside her on the bed and leaned to kiss her mouth. This time there was no animal lust in the contact of his lips, only the butterfly tenderness of gentle love.
As she sighed under him, he almost cursed himself for not realizing it before. If he had only been gentle and tender with her ...
But he did not linger on the thought. As she had said, there would be time ... lots of time.
* * *
Downstairs, both Sue and Ann paced back and forth through the living room for a few minutes before Ann turned to her younger sister.
"Shit!" she said.
"What's eating you?"
"He's right. That's what's eating me," Ann said. "Dad's right."
"He may be right," Sue said, "but I'm not going to play around with a stinking old vibrator the rest of my life. I mean, it's all groovy to stay cherry all the time and never know what a cock feels like, but once it's in there-"
"I know. I know!" She paced back and forth two more times, pondering a decision for long moments before spinning around to face her sister. "The hell with it," she said finally. "The hell with them all. I'm not going to be a damned hypocrite no matter what they say. I've been going steady with Harry for almost three months. It's time I showed him how I really feel."
She walked to the telephone, picked up the receiver and dialed. She waited for three buzzes, then heard the instrument lifted at the opposite end and the warm familiar voice of Harry Morton, the boy who had called her the day before.
"Harry? ... Look, I'm sorry about yesterday, I mean real sorry ... maybe we could get together for a while today ... oh good ..."
She listened for a while and then looked over to where Sue stood petulantly biting her lower lip in obvious hurt frustration.
"Oh, Harry ... I wonder ... do you have a friend? Well, I just thought ... Sue's getting to be a real big girl now ... Good! In an hour, then." She smacked a kiss at the phone's receiver, then hung up and turned again to Sue.
"He's coming over with a friend of his," she said. "And guess what?"
"What?"
"His folks are away for the rest of the day. He has the house all to himself."
It took Sue a few seconds to realize the import of her sister's words, but when she did, a slow, sensuous smile lifted the corners of her pert mouth.
"I guess there really is a big world out there, after all," she said.
"Yeah, baby," Ann said as she took a pace closer to her kid sister and squeezed one of her hands affectionately. "A great big, wonderful world."
