Donna giggled, then bounced her curvy little ten – year – old body up and down on the settee. "Play at what, Cecil?" she asked, tossing her brunette hair exuberantly, "Play at what?"
"Wrestling," he said, trying to keep his voice steady, "like we see them on TV like they do in the arena."
"I never played that!" the little girl stared at her brother, her eyes very wide.
"It’ll be fun!" Cecil's voice was husky, not high like it usually was.
"All right," said Donna, squirming herself onto the thick rug beside Cecil, "let's start."
She grabbed him, still giggling, and tried to pull his shoulders onto the floor. Cecil let himself slide over, his arm round Donna's waist, then his hand slipped down, caught in the elastic of her tiny panties, and seemingly accidentally wrenched until they tore. Donna rolled away from Cecil. "My panties!" her mouth made a big, round O "you've ripped my panties!"
"Sorry," said Cecil hoarsely, then he grinned, "Wrestlers don't wear panties take them off! They're in the way."
"Wouldn't that be awful?" Donna's guileless eyes looked shocked.
Cecil shook his head. "No it’ll be all right look," he went on eagerly, "I’ll take mine off, too!" He began to unfasten his jeans.
Donna giggled. "S'funny " she said.
Cecil suddenly stopped with his hand at the waist of his jeans. "Let's go upstairs," he hissed, though they were alone in the house. "Well wrestle on the bed it’ll be softer than the floor."
Donna gave a small shiver of excitement. "Okay," she said in a conspiratorial whisper, "we'll go on mom's bed it's big… much wider than mine!"
For a second, Cecil became very still. His mom's bed! The bed that… that he'd heard if not seen that man, Brad, push his horrible thing his prick into the blonde, beautiful body of his mom! His mom's bed! "All right," he said after a moment, "well wrestle on the big bed, Donna."
And they scurried up the stairs.
Cecil was fifteen years old when he took Donna upstairs to play "the wrestling game" on his mother's bed, but he had thought of it so many times since that night when Alma had told him he was "too damned small!" He'd always remembered that remembered it with a sense of hurt pride… that Alma could say that to him to hurt him after all that he did to her, for her! Alma! His adorable Alma!
He had thought of Donna, so lively, so filled with fun all the time… and, so tiny! He wouldn't be too small for her, he told himself. He shouldn't be too small for Donna! So he had waited for the opportunity: a time when they would be together in the house, alone and there would be a reason ^..he would find a reason… to get his hands on her cuddly little body, her soft little hole! Get his thing in her…
"Let's start." she panted with excitement when they stood beside the big double bed in his mother's room. "Let's play!"
"All right," Cecil's voice was low. He dragged his jeans down, watching Donna's face as he did it. She hesitated a moment, then reached under her short, brightly colored dress and slipped off her torn panties.
Cecil had a tantalizing glimpse of soft, brunette fuzz as the silk slipped down then he slid his fingers in the waistband of his own thin undershorts and glided them down.
Donna stared at him with curiosity. "You've got a pointed peeper," she murmured, and Cecil realized that it was the first time Donna had seen the 'little thing' that was so familiar to Blanche and Alma. The thought caused it to stiffen slightly. Cecil drew in his breath. It never did that without a reason! Sometimes it was hard for Alma to make it get hard at all. He recalled the time she used to spend, sucking, licking, titillating it to make him have an oozy an iggly.
"You haven't " he muttered to his little sister.
She blushed. "No – "
He stared at her as she stood still, holding her hand on the hem of her short dress, pressing it inward, over her untouched vagina. It should be a very little hole, he thought. He scrambled towards her quickly, seized her warm little body and tussled her onto the bed. They rolled together, wrestling, holding each other in a series of breathless maneuvers.
"It's fun!" Donna gasped, as Cecil locked his arms round her back, rolled her on top of him, causing her skirt to ride up.
"Yes," he breathed, feeling her flesh touch his, "I like it."
"Me, too," she murmured. She could feel Cecil's hand on her bottom. He seemed to be trying to hold her down, but his fingers kept slipping in to the cleft. She wriggled her buttocks and his hand slid down right between her plump little legs. She giggled, twisted herself over, and his hand slithered onto her belly* She felt the fingers move down. " Y – you're tickling!" Her voice was breathless.
Cecil felt her tiny slit. His penis became harder bigger than it had ever been. "Am I hurting?" he panted. His finger touched the teeny bud of a developing clitoris.
"No," she panted, "Not hurting, but " her voice broke off suddenly.
Cecil's finger had slid off the tiny clitoris it squeezed between the tight lips. Her cunt was so small! So small yet wet! She lay very still, not wrestling any more. Cecil could hear her heavy breathing as his finger slid gently in then out. "Hurt?" he breathed anxiously.
She shook her head, making her brunette hair brush against his face. "Not hurt, but " she said again, breathlessly.
"Nice?" he asked. Inserting his finger more deeply.
Her buttocks tensed. "Uum," she muttered, holding her lower lip between her teeth. "It it's a funny feeling!" she gave a breathless giggle.
"An an iggly feeling?" he asked.
"Yes," she whispered, "so iggly iggly!"
His small cock had grown. Cecil trembled as he rolled Donna onto her back, squirmed on top of her.
"Wh – what're you doing?" she gasped as he slid his body between her juicy little legs, prying her thighs wider apart with his knees.
"Just just tickling you," he muttered.
She gave an excited giggle. "With your pointed peeper?" she asked.
His penis was poised at the tiny, slightly open lips. Cecil eased the tip in. "Yes," he whispered, fighting to stop the pounding of his heart, "It's fun!"
She was wetter inside now. He thrust his penis in a little more. "I ' I feel filled," she panted, then her voice rose into a tiny squeal. "That hurt!"
He ignored her moan, thrust in deeply, painfully. There was a tiny tear and Donna's new scream was shriller.
"Eeeeh, Cecil!" the sound bubbled from her lips, "You're tearing me!" she squealed higher.
But it was too late for Cecil to stop now his lunges went in deeper, pressing to the back of the tiny cunt, filling his small sister's vagina with a firming, strengthening penis. Donna's squeals came lower, then stopped. Cecil sweated as he worked with a frenetic zeal on the softly, squirming flesh.
"It it doesn't hurt anymore," Donna mouthed. Her small, plump hips began to work gently.
Cecil plunged in squelched out from the moist, oozy hole. She was so wet, he thought, but it felt so good!
"It's nice!" Donna's voice sounded different. She had wrapped her small legs around his back, her heels pressed on his buttocks. She moved herself with an instinctive roll as if her delectable little body had been created especially for this. "Push," she muttered, "there's a funny swishy feeling inside.
"Donna," Cecil panted, "Oh, Donna," he was beginning to reach a climax.
"Push, Cecil," mouthed Donna, "Sig swig – " she bubbled.
"Donnaaaaah!" Cecil's voice rose in a high arc of ecstasy his penis jumped and jerked inside the wet warmth of the little body.
"Swish swig " she bubbled, gripping more tightly with her thighs then opening and closing her legs spasmodically.
"I'm I'm swigging, Cecil I'm swiggling!" She jerked her buttocks opened and closed. The trickle of blood from her opened cunt slid onto the cleft of her bottom. "Swiiiiig!" she screamed.
Cecil lurched, gasped and spurted…
Joanne pushed the bedroom door wide open then stood frozen in shocked agony. Her face whitened and she staggered as though she was about to faint then the scream came bubbling from her mouth. "CECIL!" She took a shaking step towards the bed, "Get off her, you " she spat the words out as if they were vile, living things, "filthy brat! Get off Donna!" Her voice rose on the last word and she reached down, grabbed Cecil's hair, pulled him off the undulating body of his sister. "Oh, Donna," she moaned, "My poor, little girl!" She reached down to her daughter.
Donna looked up her small body was rosy with her exertions and excitement. "Mom," she panted, "I was all squiggly! she squeaked, "I was all wet and nice!"
Joanne drew back her hand. She looked at Donna as if she was a monstrous snake. "Go go to your room." she moaned, screwing her eyes shut. "Get into your room!" she shrieked.
Donna squirmed off the big double bed with the small red patch in the middle. Her bottom flashed whitely as she scurried through the door.
Joanne stared at the redness on the virginally white sheet, then bit her lip. "You filthy little pig!" she mouthed at her son.
Cecil had slid to the floor. He stared up at his mother as she spewed the words at him, then let herself drop onto the edge of her bed. She was so beautiful. He stared at her lustrous hair, so blonde so delicious. Why did she talk to him like that?
"To your sister!" she moaned, "Your own little baby sister!"
"S – she liked it," he muttered. Joanne's eyes opened wider in horror. "You horrible, little beast!" Her voice was vicious. Why did she talk like that? Cecil stared at his mother. Her legs were in front of his eyes. So long, slim wonderful!
His eyes went up. "You did with with Brad," he muttered.
"W – what?" Joanne's voice became incredulous.
Cecil's eyes had filled with tears. "You didn't have to, mom," he sobbed, "You didn't have to let Brad push his horrible prick into you. I I'd have done it for you with my tongue! I'd have made you come." He leaned forward and buried his face between the white, naked thighs below his mother's miniskirt.
Joanne's hand lashed down in a vicious, terrified arc. "You monster!" She pushed his face away as if he was a slimy thing. "Get away from me! Don't go near Donna! Go out into the shed don't ever come to this bedroom again!"
Cecil had crawled to the door with his jeans in his hand.
"Don’t come back in the house ‘til I tell you!" his mother had screamed. Her face was all tightened up, vicious, hateful. "I don't know when I’ll let you in!"
She looked like a witch, Cecil thought as he limped down the stairs, an evil, ugly witch!