Jason opened the door and Sally was blinded by a flood of afternoon sun that poured into the dim motel room. Ralph was groaning and moving around on the floor as they left. Sally didn't look back. He deserved to lay there since he'd been about to treat her as some sort of animal, fucking her in a perverted way. And she'd thought he was such a nice, clean-cut American boy until that happened.
They got into Jason's car and he scattered gravel getting away from the motel.
"That was Goddamned stupid," he said as soon as they were on the street. "The motel manager recognized you and called me. You're damn lucky it was me instead of Hal that he knew. If he'd called your husband it would have been all over for you. You know that?"
Sally huddled on her side of the car near the door and felt the steady throb of her cunt reliving the eager rape Jason had performed on her. "You too!" she said. It was dirty to say it, but she felt dirty.
"Yes, me too!" Jason's voice was a snarl. "If Hal caught you playing house with that punk he'd have a clean divorce out of it in minutes. And I'd be out of a job. I'm only vice-president of his real estate company because he doesn't think it looks right for him to have impoverished relatives. So we both have our own self-interests to serve!"
"I could tell him about your raping me…"
"Same thing," Jason said matter-of-factly. "Jesus. Maybe if I'd gotten your ass when you were younger you wouldn't be doing these things."
"Aren't you even sorry?" Sally was indignant.
"What for?" Surprise edged Jason's voice. "I thought it was a pretty good fuck. Shit, we should be able to get it on more often."
"You're… detestable!"
"You think it over, sis. I could tell you loved it despite all the complaints. If Hal isn't taking care of your ass for you, I'll make the sacrifice. It's better than you going around picking up parking lot attendants for an afternoon quickie. I might even enjoy it."
"You're the last man on earth…" Sally said. She didn't have to finish it for her brother. He knew what she meant.
Jason laughed harshly and put his hand on her knee. Roughly his fingers caressed the firm flesh of her thigh, kneading the muscle and skin and sliding down toward the juncture of her thighs.
"Stop that!" she ordered sharply. The touch of his hand was unsettling. She tried to brush it away but it started the hot chill of desire in her crotch again. The leather seat caressed the back of her legs where her short dress didn't cover her thighs and she knew the wet cloth of her panty crotch was staining the seat. Desperately she clamped her knees together. Jason persisted, running his hand down the groove formed by her pressed-together thighs all the way under her skirt. His fingers found the soft, warm bulge of her pudenda and began to stroke it.
A fever was started in Sally's pelvis. Her cunt was on fire. Her twat lips seemed to writhe and twist against each other, struggling desperately to satisfy her incredibly sudden, God-awful craving to have a man's dick stuffed up her cunt.
"Someone… might see us," she gasped at Jason.
Reluctantly, her brother withdrew his hand from under her skirt.
At the house she desperately jumped out of the car before he could do anything else. Then she ran up to the front door painfully aware of her brother's interest in the soft sliding-bobbing of her round, lush ass as she ran. Her swollen breasts bounced in the painful strictures of her bra cups. Her swollen and distended nipples rubbed against the fabric at each step and it just served to turn her on even more.
What's wrong with me? Sally asked herself tearfully. Am I some sort of sex pervert?
She fitted the key in the door and got it open. Then she turned in time to look at Jason as he pulled away from the house. He smiled at her and playfully gave her the finger.
For a dreadful moment, Sally imagined her brother cramming that finger up her twat, twisting it around inside, and then finger-fucking her furiously. She felt all weak inside so she hurried up and opened the door and escaped inside her house.
The house was a Tudor, one of the better housing tract styles that Hal was selling. They had moved in because he'd picked it up in a swap deal and he was of the opinion that the particular lot was due for a fancy jump in price in a few years. He wasn't often wrong about real estate even if he didn't know much about women, Sally thought ruefully. The one thing that she really liked about the house was that the bedrooms were upstairs and provided a refuge away from the kids.
She started up the curving staircase and then stopped and stared at her hand. It was resting on the gnarled end of the gracefully sweeping banister and for the first time she realized that the banister was almost exactly crotch height.
The gnarled end was rough and lumpy with hand-carved projections. It was one of the features of the house which had originally been spruced up as a model home. Stuff like that, Hal had said, raised the value of the property eventually by thousands of dollars.
Fuck Hal's property values! Sally told herself drunkenly.
She wasn't drunk. But it didn't matter. That was how she felt. Cautiously she raised her leg and swung it over the banister and then she lowered her crotch to the polished wood rail. Her toes couldn't quite touch the raisers and without intending it, before she knew what was happening, she was sliding down the rail backwards. But only for a few feet. And then her crotch was solid on the gnarled wood end and she wasn't sliding any more. Her clitoris rubbed against the projecting knob of the banister through the silken material of her panties. It was like a man's hard finger playing with her. Desperately she clawed at the wood rail with her hands and slid up and down a few precious inches. Each movement, however minute, sent fresh thrills coursing through her body.
"Uhuhuhuhuhuh," she grunted. The harder she worked, the further away the promised orgasm was. In a frenzy, Sally tore at her black panties with her fingernails, ripping the crotch out of them. She welcomed the feel of the cool, smooth wood directly on her wet sex organs.
Her hips twisted and swiveled as she made love to the banister. Sweat beaded her face and poured down her thighs. But it wasn't enough.
Exhausted, Sally got off the banister and unsteadily mounted the stairs. Her feet were like lead. Her cunt was an unbearable burden between her wobbly legs. Secretly she regretted letting Jason leave.
The bath had seemed like a good idea. When Sally had lowered herself in, to the foamy water and felt the subtle warmth creep up her legs and engulf her crotch and then surround the soft mounds of her breasts she had thought everything would be okay. The fire would be put out. She would be back to normal.
At first it had seemed to work that way. She was soothed by the hot water and foamy soap. The scent of rose bath salts filled the room. And then, like some sort of compulsion, she had to start playing with herself again. She thought about Jason and all the times he had snuck around trying to catch her in the bath. And that reminded her of his penis and that led, naturally, to the steady beat of his cock in and out of her clasping cunt. And that started it.
Gingerly she slid one finger in her turgid slot. It was enough to get the yearning going stronger than before. Her cunt sucked at her probing finger trying to pull it in.
She opened her thighs and lay back in the water and felt it running into her heated cunt around her probing finger. She mewed at the compulsive pleasure the feeling brought her.
Slowly she added another finger to the one already in her snatch. She twisted her wrist and felt the wonderful stretching that made her feel so good. She was like a woman released. But to no good purpose. She was sexual and yet insatiable. Laying in the tub of water, Sally knew Hal – or any man – couldn't really satisfy her now.
Jason's cock might do it, she knew. But she couldn't forget what was on the end of that cock: a demanding, perverted male. A man!
Recalling how close she'd come to getting cornholed by Ralph, Sally shivered even in the tub of steaming water. While one hand played with her snatch, she slipped her other one under her buttocks and pressed a finger up against the rosy opening to her rectum. It was so tiny she wondered how Ralph had planned on getting inside her butt without killing her. The thought sent strange feelings surging through her body and she couldn't stop wondering about it.
Tenderly, she pressed against her asshole opening with a finger greased by soapy water.
She twisted her hips and enjoyed the feel of her fingers twisting in her cunt. And then, suddenly, the pressure on her asshole was gone and her finger had slid up her rear hole.
"Ohmigod!" Sally cried out. Her mouth was open in wonder. The sensation was unbelievable. It was as if her finger up her butt had found another way in her sex hole and was almost touching the two fingers twisting desperately in her snatch.
The water lapped around the pink-tipped bits of her breasts that were still exposed. But down around her hips there was a steady swirl of movement that threatened to swamp her.
Sally focused on the ceiling in wonder as the feelings raced through her from cunt to asshole to cunt. This is dirty, she told herself. It's evil and I can't do this. I mustn't!
Her fingers lanced in and out of her sex hole and she almost cried out loud, it was such a good feeling. Her asshole was stinging, but it was a good sting and her finger slipped out and she stroked her breast with it. Her hand started on the soft underside of her tit and slipped up the flesh in a milking motion which ended when she pinched her nipple. The hard feel of her own fingers on her swollen and abused nipples was driving her into a frenzy. She stared up at the baby blue bathroom ceiling and breathed hard as she played with herself and tried to imagine what kind of man could entertain her.
"Mommy, what were you doing downstairs?"
Sally almost swallowed a mouthful of soapy water. She sat up in one sudden motion, slopping water on the red carpeted floor and stared at Tommy, her eleven year old son.
The boy was standing in the entrance to the bathroom and he was staring at her as if shocked by her hand on her own tit. He was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of blue shorts and the shorts were poked way out in front. A long way out.
In her confusion, Sally almost asked if it was his first hard-on.
"What… what did you say, Tommy?"
She tried to sink into the water, but her damn tits kept bobbing up and she could tell from the way her son's eyes moved that he was entranced by them.
"I wanted to know what you were doing downstairs, Mom. You know, when you were up on the banister."
"I was…" Sally looked at the boy and realized her fingers were still jabbed in her cunt and she was as excited as crazy. "Come closer, Tommy," she said. "And Mommy will explain."