Vicky wasn't at all surprised that her mother didn't come down for breakfast. Even to welcome her home after a month at Aunt Pat's. Florence's headaches were famous. Sometimes she used them for weeks on end. Sister Abby had learned the ploy as well. She'd gotten out of going to meet the plane with Jim by pretending some complicated migraine. Vicky knew because Jim had told her himself. She and Jim were old friends, fellow miscreants of the McNarey Estate. Though the chauffeur was quite a bit older, he treated her as a peer. When things got strange at school, Vicky had always taken her problems to Jimmy, as she liked to call him. He was a large man, a native of Canada, whose soft-spoken kindness had always appealed to Vicky. She had to admit that she had more affection for him than her mother or sister or even her brother. Only Carl, her father, rivaled Jimmy in her personal popularity poll.
"I suppose Jim told you that your cousin is staying with us for awhile," Carl said, passing a plateful of melon pieces.
"He mentioned it. I don't even remember Kevin." Vicky forked a chunk of cantaloupe and held it up to her nose for inspection. "Is he the kind of…" she rolled her eyes, "wigged-out lad that they sent to special schools and all?"
"Yes," Carl said. "Really a shame. He's quite intelligent, I think. In his own way, of course. But that speech thing…"
"Now I remember," Vicky said, sitting up straighter in her chair. "He can't talk. My little chubby cousin who couldn't talk…"
Carl wiped his mustache. "He's not chubby anymore. Grown into a very nice-looking young man. But they've never solved that problem with his speech. Some connection in his brain I would think but I'm no expert!"
It'd been years since Vicky had even thought of Kevin. He'd only been a baby when she'd last seen him. A strange little kid who made grunting sounds and scooted around much like other children. But he had a special aura about him all right. Yes, she remembered the look he'd get in his eyes. Like he was seeing things other kids couldn't.
"He'll only be here for the summer," Carl went on, "and Gus and Rebecca thought he'd do better if we housed him away from the main house. He likes to spend a lot of time by himself so it seems. Too much social hubbub confuses him." Carl pushed his chair away from the table and rose. "My brother tells me he's gotten to be quite a woodcarver."
"Kevin? A woodcarver?" Vicky glanced at Abby, who hadn't seemed a bit interested in anything that'd been said. It was hard to imagine that roly-poly little baby becoming anything special. But of course a few years had slipped by. Vicky realized she had been nothing much special herself back in those days. When she looked back at her father she caught him giving his sister Mona the strangest look. Vicky could almost swear it was a hot come-on. She glanced at Mona and saw the handsome woman lick her upper lip in an obviously sensual way.
As the breakfast table was abandoned, Vicky kept an eye on Carl. He and Mona were on their way to the tennis court, laughing and talking. Vicky couldn't suppress her curiosity. She went to the garage to take the canvas off her motorcycle and for awhile she tinkered around with it, starting up the engine, taking a few turns around the drive. But she finally parked it and sneaked around back. Just as she'd suspected, the tennis court was empty. Carl's racket leaned against the net and nearby was Mona's monogrammed towel.
Vicky was having a hard time believing this. She wouldn'tve been surprised to find that her father was having an affair with someone. He'd been doing that for years. Almost every time Florence pled a headache and went to bed. But his very own sister! It made chills run up her back. Or were they thrills?
Abby was lolling on a couch in the living room with a fingernail file and polish, Vicky didn't even rate a look as she padded by and turned down the long hall. The library was empty and so was the small greenhouse that opened out into the huge back yard. But the door to the billiard room was closed and locked. Vicky tried the knob carefully so that no one inside would know she was there. Vicky smiled. There were other ways to find out what was going on. She went to the next door down the hall and entered quietly. It was a small kitchen and bar, there only for parties Carl sometimes threw for his men friends. And though the sliding service door was closed, Vicky knew exactly how to get it open. She'd used every room in the house for a playground at one time or another.
She found a paring knife and climbed onto the counter, working herself over to the door as quietly as possible. She was lying on her belly now and through the thin wood of the sliding panel she could hear her father's voice. A groan from Mona followed by a shuddering sigh. Vicky's hand trembled as she gingerly pried the bolt back with the short-bladed knife. Did she really want to see what was going on in the billiard room? When Mona moaned again, she decided that yes, she did want to see. The bolt inched back and Vicky held against the pressure of the spring as she eased the service panel open. Then she let the bolt slip back to its previous position, careful not to let it snap. She had an inch wide slit to peer through now and dragged herself forward on elbows. When she pushed her short nose up against the wood and squinted through, her heart lurched.
Her Aunt Mona was bent forward over one of the billiard tables. She had on the white top of her tennis outfit. The short skirt lay between her feet on the floor and so did a pair of fancy frilled panties. From the waist down Aunt Mona was stark naked. Vicky felt her own body flush with heat. A slick sensation between the lips of her cunt was spreading to the crotchband of her panties. And the reason she'd experienced this sudden rush of sexual fever was because her father was naked too. He stood behind his well-preserved sister with the biggest hard-on Vicky could imagine. The head of his cock looked like some strange blue mushroom. It was coated slickly with Mona's pussy juice. And as she watched, Carl eased it up between the lips of her aunt's cunt again and rubbed it teasingly against the protruding nubbin that swelled out from between two plump petals. Mona's clit! Vicky finally remembered to breathe.
"Uhnnnnn… Ohhh Carl, darling, if you don't ram me with that lovely cock of yours I think I'm going to faint!"
Carl ran his hands over Mona's full, white ass, caressing each cheek with special attention. Then he bent to kiss her back. He was holding the weight of his cock up as he worked it around in circles. Vicky realized that he was searching for the hole in her aunt's body, searching for her pussy opening. Vicky rocked her slim hips, felt the seepy butter smear out to mingle in the blond down that covered her pubes. With a jerk, Carl pushed his hips up and under. Mona's ass rose slightly from the edge of the billiard table and a look of pleasure spilled over her features. She was breathing raggedly, her fingers hooked tightly over each mahogany siderail. Carl closed his eyes and growled as he jabbed upwards. Vicky sucked a quick breath as she watched her father's thick shaft half disappear. She was only guessing but it'd looked eight inches long before he'd put it between Mona's cuntlips. Now there were just four inches left. Mona's ass shivered and she rocked her hips sharply to one side.
"Ohhh, Carl… Ohhh fuck me my darling… fuck me to death!"
Carl bit her back and then kissed it. His hips were working steadily now, rooting the head of that huge cock deeper all the time.
"You're the best fuck in the world, Mona," he gasped.
"Only because you are," she breathed back. Her knuckles were white as she clasped the edge of the billiard table.
Vicky tried to swallow but found her mouth dry. She managed to lick her lips and pull herself together somewhat before putting her eye back to the crack in the sliding door.
"Yesssss…" Mona was plunging and roiling her ass, moving against the surging power of Carl's lovemaking. His cock was buried to the hilt now and Vicky could hear the sucking, slick sounds of their fuck. There was an unmistakable aroma of hot pussy, too, which drifted through the tiny opening she was using. There was certainly nothing dirty about the smell. There was even a hint of perfume along with it. Expensive perfume. And for the first time Vicky found herself amused by what she observed. The only way to describe that overall scent was to call it the smell of very pampered cunt. And so her aunt was just that. A very pampered cunt.
"Deeper… deeper my darling!" Mona's head flopped on the green felt. She was drooling a little. Vicky found herself very excited. Even though she hadn't resolved her moral uncertainties, the witnessing of the event was terribly thrilling. To watch her strong, virile father really slap the meat to good old Aunt Mona! It served Florence right for pulling that silly headache bit all the time. Mona wasn't going to let a headache get in the way at a time like this.
"Mona baby, you're lovely… the loveliest fuck!" Carl grabbed his sister's wide hips and rooted to the hilt. From the squishy, slurpy sounds Vicky could almost imagine the slickened head of his prick rubbing and pressing in the deep folds in her aunt's body. What did that feel like to a woman anyway? Vicky's only experience was her own finger and she was certain that a man's prick could fill a girl's clasping tube much better.
"Carl… Carl… Jesus God in heaven!"
Mona's back was sharply curved now, arched down as she lifted her quivering ass high to make room for the gouging, ramming cock. Carl held her cheeks firmly as he fucked in and out with savage movements of his body. It was getting good for him, too. Vicky could tell.
"Are you getting it good, Mona?" he gasped, biting his lip. His gray-flecked hair was mussed and there was a patina of sweat on his forehead. Mona pounded the surface of the billiard table weakly and seemed to be choking. But Vicky knew that she wasn't really choking at all.
"Carl… Ohhh I'm going to come! I am… I am my darling! Now-ow-ow-ow! Unhhhhhh!"
Carl seemed to come unglued. Vicky's mouth fell open as she watched him almost climb up Mona's back, his muscled ass plunging wildly now, going at her aunt's ass from every angle, every speed. Then he held himself as deep as his shaft would fit and it seemed like Mona had gone into convulsions. She flopped belly down on the table, her breasts popping from the tennis blouse she wore. Vicky saw that they weren't as firm as her own young tits, but for a woman of forty-five, they looked fantastic.
"Yesssss, Carl… Ohhhhhh!" With a shriek, Mona seemed to tremble all over and collapse. But her ass was still dipping and dancing and making quick little circles around the plunging movement of Carl's cock. His shaft was shiny and dark with trapped blood. And now Vicky could see something oozing down the underside, dripping down to his balls. As he fucked with animal fury, the droplets splatted to the rug, darkening it noticeably.
Vicky could hardly think. The wild show before her eyes was exciting enough if she'd had no personal connection. But the fact that it was her father and his sister making love on the billiard table in her very own home… She worked her teeth against her lip and felt another tingle of pleasure shoot through her pussy.
Carl was holding his cock deep again now, resting his chest against Mona's tan back. They were both panting like crazy and, except for an occasional shiver or jerk, the fucking seemed to be at an end. Vicky could see her father's cum making whitish trails down the insides of both of Mona's thighs now. The hot stuff leaked all the way to her ankles and dripped off slowly. The room was full of a sharp smell, something Vicky had never had a whiff of before. She wasn't sure it was Carl's cum she smelled. But she hadn't smelled anything like that when they'd just been fucking.
"That'll ruin my tennis game for the rest of the day," Mona breathed as Carl continued to kiss her back. With a sucking sound his cock slipped from Mona's body and Vicky held her breath again as she watched the cum hang in strings from the tip. Mona turned and slid to her knees on the floor before Carl. With hungry animal sounds she began to clean him up. Vicky watched spellbound. She'd never in her life heard of such things happening. But the two of them were even closer to her vantage point than before. She could see her aunt's tongue flicking out, curving around the cum-coated head. Carl's cock was only slightly wilted and it hung down at a curved angle. His sister held it up delicately with her long fingers, her lips and tongue working gingerly over the raw, fevered surface. Then she turned her face brightly up at Carl and smiled, cum glistening on her lips. Finally, Vicky managed to swallow.
"Oh wow," she breathed to herself, "wowee!"
Vicky didn't know where she was going when she stumbled from the room. She'd left the little service door open, left the paring knife on the counter. She felt dazed and strangely excited too. Her own father! But all she could really see when she thought of him was the shape of his cock. The slippery way it had penetrated her aunt's pussy. Her body tingled as she pushed a door open and wandered back through the grounds.
It was a beautiful day, birds twittering in the trees, the sun coming through the leaves. Vicky wondered if she should feel upset because she'd witnessed incest. But she wasn't particularly disturbed. She tugged a braid as she walked, looking down at her feet, feeling the grass poke between her toes. Her T-shirt felt uncomfortably tight until she realized that it was because her nipples had grown larger. This was something new to her too. She'd noticed the phenomenon a couple of times while bathing. But now with the soft cotton rubbing, rubbing, rubbing, she thought she might go crazy if she couldn't fling off everything and roll in the prickly grass.
The thin denim of her shorts had pulled up between her cunt lips too. That was because her labia had swollen and bloomed apart. She felt like she was being fingered expertly by some invisible force. Every step she took was beginning to really get to her.
"Damn… what's happening to me anyway?"
She thought of the incident on the plane, of how she'd worked her middle finger gently into her hole and then rubbed herself with her thumb until she'd come. Then she blushed at the thought of what Dr. Holden had seen as he'd peeked from behind his paper. How could anyone be so sneaky? She shook the thoughts away and tried to keep her mind from spinning off into wild flurries of desire.
Vicky was about to turn around and return to her room so she could give herself a good fingerfucking when she came around the corner of the guest house. There on the grass knelt the most beautiful male she'd ever seen in her life. He was holding a knife in one hand and an intricately-worked piece of wood in the other. He smiled, his blue eyes sparkling in the sun, his hair was blond and shoulder length. Vicky's breath left her as she recalled the reverie she'd had on the plane while exciting herself. That dream prince she'd conjured up out of her dreams. Here he was in the flesh, almost every detail perfect. And then she knew that this was her cousin Kevin. The long-lost cousin who couldn't speak a word.
And still she felt like she was drifting, in a strange new world. She went over to him and knelt there. God, he was beautiful! She made a quick calculation, came up with the guess that he was seventeen. Yes, just two years older than she. Vicky had been the ripe old age of six when she'd played with him.
"Do you know who I am?" she asked. His blue eyes seemed to know her. He pulled nervously at his cowboy shirt and went to carving again. But he was watching her from the corner of his eye. Vicky could hardly keep her hands off of him. She touched his blond hair lightly while he chipped away at the wood. She could see his chest where a snap had come undone. She wanted to touch him there too, kiss him there. If only she could take him in her arms…
"Kevin, I'm your cousin Vicky. We used to play together." Kevin nodded without looking up. So he'd known all along. It was at that moment she noticed the swell at the crotch of his jeans. Vicky had never been so excited in her life. She glanced around to see if they were alone. It seemed that they were. Away off she could hear Jim whistling as he washed one of the family cars.
"Would you show me where you live?" she said softly. Kevin looked up at her, licked his lips and sighed. Then he got up. It amused Vicky to watch the boy try to hide his obvious erection from her. Somehow he straightened it in his pants and led the way into the guest house.
Vicky looked around the room. There were pictures of planes and the usual junk a teen-age boy collected. She knew from experience. Her own brother had been the same way. At last she walked very close to Kevin and gave him another of her best smiles. One braid swung out to touch his face as she spun. He was half a head taller than she and just perfect for hugging. Again she had the most powerful urge to do that very thing.
"We're gonna have a terrific time this summer, you and me!" she said, clapping her hands. Kevin smiled. He was staring at her like if he didn't she might suddenly disappear. She picked up a braid and tickled his cheek with it, smiling mischievously all the while. He was barefoot too and she couldn't resist lapping her big toe over one of his. Kevin closed his eyes for a good five seconds, opened them again.
Vicky had never experienced anything so intense. And what made it better was that for the first time in her life, she felt in control of things. Usually boys made her nervous. They knew more, or were stronger or more aggressive. It was always something. But now she was the one in charge. She was controlling her cousin, watching his reactions. Her nipples glowed hotter than before and the silken crotch of her panties was doing simply terrible things to her poor little pussy.
"Kevin, I've got a secret," she said, motioning him close. He bent shyly in her direction, eyes curious. When her lips were just brushing his earlobe, she whispered, "If you don't kiss me, I think I'll just die."
Kevin jerked back a little, swallowed. He wasn't smiling anymore, but he wasn't frowning either. Then she knew he was going to do it. She lifted her chin as their lips brushed. Kevin didn't know the first thing about a good kiss, but Vicky moaned a little and melted against his slender body. He put his arms around her a little. It was like he was afraid that if he touched her she might break. Vicky hugged him, too, only tighter. Her nails explored the bumps of his ribs and then she dug under his shirttail and rubbed passionate patterns against the small of his back. Now it was Kevin's turn to moan a little.
It was obvious he had no idea what was happening to him. She could feel his cock pressing against her thigh. She worked her hips up and down, letting him feel the pink tip of her tongue. She pretended to weaken and fall across his bed, somehow managing to pull Kevin with her. He was really mixed up now, but she kept petting his body, kissing his lips open a little. Sooner or later he'd have to get the message, wouldn't he?
"Oh, you beautiful man, you!" she breathed, nuzzling her short nose down into the hollow of his neck. She scratched his shirt open and ran her fingertips across the smooth, tan surface. It rippled as he tried to get up. Vicky threw a leg over one of his and touched her slightly parted lips against his chin. She was a little ashamed at being so aggressive, but she was burning up with want. Watching Carl sock it to his own sister had gotten her blood to boiling. She wanted a little fun for herself. At fifteen she was still really a virgin. And she didn't want to remain one much longer.
"Ohhh Kevin, Kevin… kiss me!"
Kevin made a sound. It was like a word that didn't quite work. A word of fear maybe or uncertainty. Vicky knew how to get rid of uncertainty. She pushed the flat of her palm down his belly, down, down. She slipped fingers under the elastic of his shorts. But even as her fingers curled under the throbbing hardness of his white cock, it began to soften. Kevin made another little sound and tried to rise from the bed.
"Oh darling, don't do that," Vicky gasped, squeezing and massaging the dying shaft. But now it was just a little soft snake. The fever had gone out of it and all the stiffness. She could hardly believe that her own foolish bumbling had done that. Kevin jerked her hand from his pants and sat on the edge of the bed, breathing hard. He wouldn't look at her, wouldn't let her touch him.
Vicky walked to the door. She felt like bawling. Her body yearned for loving and she was trembling all over. She didn't know how to make things right again. But she couldn't leave like this. At last she went over and knelt at Kevin's feet. Then she made him look at her.
"I'm… I'm sorry, Kevin. It was all my fault."
She kissed his knee and got up. "I'll see you tomorrow. I still want to be friends." He gave her a little smile then and she hurried out before she made things worse.
Abby had finished her nails and read half of a dull book and was now bored to tears. She wished that a girl could go into one of the bars in town by herself without starting some kind of talk that would eventually get back to Daddy. After all she was twenty-one. And still she couldn't really do much of anything. It seemed as if women's lib hadn't really gotten all that far. Of course she could always get herself a motorcycle like her tomboy sister. Buzzing around like a maniac wasn't her idea of a good time, though. She'd leave the motorcycles for misfit girls like Vicky. But what could she do to stir things up some?
She wandered out to the pool and walked barefoot around the warm tiles, admiring her painted toenails. She was thinking about what a complete idiot Perry had turned out to be. He was a gentleman, oh sure. But such a predictable one. She stopped, looked around her and then quickly skinned off her panties. It felt better having the air blowing under her dress, tickling her cunt hairs directly. And nobody would know. She strolled on.
"If not Perry, well then who?" She remembered the time she'd seen Carl kissing his very own sister. Carl and Mona. Wasn't that sweet? And poor Florence with her eternal headache. Or was Florence fooling just like she did herself whenever she wanted out of a ticklish or dreary situation? Yes, maybe she'd picked up a few of her mother's bad habits. But there didn't seem to be any harm in it. The headache had surely gotten rid of Perry the night before. She wandered on around the pool and into the house through the big back patio.
Aimlessly she entered the billiard room and drifted to the pinball machine in the corner. She had punched up her first game and let the ball go when Howell came into the room and went behind the bar. She heard the hiss of a beer opening. Her brother came over just as she shot her second ball.
"What's going on, Sis?"
"Nothing, big brother," she said, concentrating on the downward slope of her ball. She flipped it once but it sank in a penalty hole and the machine gave her only five points for her effort.
"I could do better than that with the head of my dick," Howell laughed, swigging beer. For some reason, Abby appreciated his vulgar attempt at humor. Maybe because she was so damned bored.
"My, my," she said, "what else do you do with that thing?"
"Come upstairs and I'll show you," her brother drawled, squeezing his beer can until the metal clinked.
Abby didn't look up from her pinball game. She should have been shocked at what her brother had said. But he'd been laying out the naughty innuendoes for years really. It was a kind of joke of his. Her brother had never so much as put a hand on her in the past year. But she was remembering the way he'd been looking the other night. She'd felt a new hunger, a fresh and hungry electricity in his attentions.
"Naw, you shoulda let it bounce before you flipped it," he said, reaching around her waist. She let him reach around on both sides to take charge of the flipper buttons. Behind she could feel the warmth of his chest and body. It was such an odd feeling. She was actually becoming excited. And it was her own brother doing the exciting. Something in her mind bucked suddenly. She couldn't just stand there and let him rub against her like that. His cock, yes, she could feel it! It felt so close against her. But then she had taken off her panties, hadn't she? No! This was too close.
"Howell, would you let me get loose?" She squirmed but her strong brother closed the circle of his arms enough to capture her against his body. "Howell!"
He was lifting the hem of her summer dress. And then she realized with a start that his cock had been poking out of his pants the whole time. No wonder he'd felt so close. With just the thin cotton material separating them. And now even that wasn't there anymore. As her brother's cocktip brushed hotly against one cheek of her ass, Abby tried to drive an elbow against his belly.
"Easy sister, easy!" He held her as she struggled. "You want it as bad as I do." His hands were under her dress, rubbing up her heaving belly. Then he surrounded one of her big breasts and began to knead it slowly and suggestively. Her nipple exploded outwards against his palm. Abby gave a whimpering cry and leaned heavily against the pin ball machine.
"Don't… Ohhh… Ohhh Howell, please! I'm begging you to let me go." Why hadn't she put on a bra that morning? Why hadn't she put on a girdle and chastity belt for that matter.
"Howell… Ohh God, what do you think you're doing?"
He staggered away from her suddenly, turning as he shoved his cock in his pants. Then he gave her the strangest look.
"I don't know," he said, mumbling the words. "I don't really know." Then he was gone. Abby caught her breath finally and tried to finish her pinball game, but her concentration was shot to hell. She went behind the bar herself and got out a bottle of scotch. She poured herself two inches in a glass and almost choked getting it down, but it helped the minute it got to her stomach.
"My own brother trying to put the make on me. Boy, he must really be getting horny." But then she turned and caught her reflection in the mirror behind the bottles. Her light complexion was flushed from the excitement, her nostrils flared. Her black hair fell sexily over her shoulders and a smoldering, female aroma seemed to surround her. Her painted nails ticked on the glass she held. "Poor Howell. I guess I do look pretty inviting. Even to my own brother."
That night she lay in her bed, unable to relax completely. She'd even sneaked the bottle upstairs with her to get a little help. She'd been feeling very confused about some things. Very confused. Like the shivery feeling she still got just thinking about her brother's cock touching her bottom like that. She knew it was perverse to dwell on such things but she couldn't help but try and imagine what it looked like back there as it pressed into the white meat of her right buttock.
"Damn," Abby swore, sitting up in bed to reach the scotch from the table. She poured some over her melting ice cube and swished it around in the glass. She could see by the moonlight that flooded across her rug. She had her balcony doors open and a light breeze stirred the curtains. She sat with her knees pulled up and sipped the scotch. Between her thighs, her pussy seemed to glow like a fire banked for the night. Every movement, however slight, set off new embers that sent tingles up and down her skin.
"Oh hell, I've already fingerfucked once tonight and it didn't seem to do any good." She sipped more scotch and tried to think of something like sailboats or cooking. Her cunt seeped sex juice onto the back of her filmy gown. Maybe she could find something to stick up her. Maybe that would ease the tension. Something shaped like Perry's cock. No, she didn't even want to think of that dumb, dull Perry anymore. And yet that was the only cock she could picture. Besides her brother's thick penis. She'd seen that once when he'd been drunk and skinned his shorts at the pool.
"No, this is absolutely ridiculous." She took a healthy slug of scotch. "Howell was just fooling around. He is my brother. I am his sister. It's absolutely ridiculous to lose sleep over something like…"
The movement on her balcony made her start. Or had it been anything but the wind wafting the curtains? She stared until her eyes burned but heard nothing. She was getting too jumpy. She felt the scotch working on her now, and it felt good. She put the glass on the table and lay back. Her gown was tangled up across her thighs. With just a little effort she could lift it higher so she could get a finger into her body. But hadn't she decided to go hunt up something bigger to penetrate her cunt with? Mmmmm, the scotch did feel good.
There! She had heard something. And then the shadow of a male figure filled the balcony for a second as whoever it was entered her bedroom. Abby opened her mouth to scream but nothing came out. Then she smelled the beer and the sweaty musk of a man without a shirt. She knew who it was. And as Howell's mouth closed over hers and a hand pushed her gown up, she could only gasp under the weight.
"I want you, Abby!" he breathed, tugging at his jeans now. She was still too shocked for words, digging her heels into the mattress as she tried to squirm away.
"Nooo… Ohh God Howell, you've got to be crazy coming in here like this…" But his hand had brushed her cuntlips open. They were already swollen and damp with her hot juice. As his finger teased her clit from its little hood, her ass squirmed circles against the sheet. "Nuhhhhh… Nuhhhnnoo," she grunted, trying to fight the sharp pleasure that shot through her belly and thighs.
Her breasts had burst from the top of her gown now and her brother was mouthing them hungrily, moaning like some wild animal. Abby thought she might be able to push him back until one of her thick, dark nipples slipped between his teeth. Then the strength drained from her arms as Howell tongued the supersensitive nubbin.
"Nhhuuhh," she gasped, writhing under his hands and mouth and body. Something hot and hard pressed against her thigh. She knew that her brother's rigid cock was getting dangerously close to her cunt. And her gown had been jerked down off her shoulders and shoved up to expose her belly. She could feel his hairy muscular stomach rubbing hers.
"Howell… this is awful!"
"It isn't awful," he grunted, "and you know it isn't!"
"Ohhh… leave me be! Leave me…" Her head fell to the side as Howell's mouth wet her neck and ear. She was jerking now, unable to stop the flood of pleasure that had swept through her every fiber.
And Howell's cock seemed even harder now. It felt like an ax handle as he eased it up the soft flesh of her inner thigh. She wriggled again, tilting her hips furiously in an attempt to keep him away from her seeping, feverish hole. But the tip of his cock had pushed into the tangled thatch of dark cunt hair. She could feel the curls parting until at last his glans throbbed against the slightly parted swells of her labia.
Now Abby was almost afraid to move. Every time she did, Howell gained a fraction of an inch. And her juices were seeping out, slackening the spongy head of his penis. "Oh God! Ohhhh! I can't stand it! I'll die if you stick that thing in me!"
"Abby, I can smell you, taste you!" He kissed her mouth hard and she couldn't keep his tongue from probing deep. She moaned into the kiss, writhing, pounding his back weakly with her fists. But she was no match for his strength and desire. The glow that she'd felt between her legs was growing into something else. Her brother's cock was heating her up! She could hardly believe it was happening. Then Howell moved his hips and she heard the wet sound as her petals opened to him.
"Nhhhaaaa… Ohhhhhh help, somebody, help!" Her protests were faint gasps now as she felt her brother's passion. He sensed an easy victory now. She knew that he could smell her excitement. And yes, the rub of his body against her soft, white belly and breasts was having an effect on her. But she tried to hold off with her mind. It was wrong, this hungry, bestial lust she felt. It was wrong because they were blood kin. She dug her long nails against his shoulders as he lunged again with his hips. The head of his cock had completely entered her slit now and was forcing open the circle of muscles that surrounded her vagina.
"Howell… don't… don't do it!"
"I'm gonna get you at last," he mumbled, biting the tender areola near a nipple. She arched her back sharply, her nails going deeper in his flesh. Then she felt him lurch again, felt the spreading stretch of her pussy as his flared crown went in. A shudder of utter pleasure went through her. She gasped, gave a cry and fell back on the bed, spit drooling from the side of her mouth. Howell was on her like a tiger then, forcing her long legs apart as he fucked for depth.
"Ahhh… Ohhh Howell!"
Abby felt that she was past caring now. She wanted to resist, but couldn't. The thrills were so intense, the friction of his rigid shaft rubbing past her raped petals indescribably lovely. She was forgetting who it was atop her. Forgetting that it was Howell. She didn't want to know at all.
"Nhuuuh! Oowwwww!"
"You're tight and hot. God, you're wonderful," he gasped, working his cock in and out, deepening his penetration as the skin of his shaft became slackened with her musky juices.
"It hurts… it hurts!" She ground her teeth together, breath hissing between them. But there was no stopping Howell now. He had her soft heat surrounding him now. He wanted more. With a groan he put another inch inside her body and then another. She bucked and wiggled as her insides opened to him. She felt the fullness. She felt that throbbing chunk of meat entering her deepest secret.
Howell was wheezing and bucking like crazy now and she sensed that her tight pussy was about to bring him off. Abby felt a sudden anger. The nerve of her horny brother, coming in, taking her in her own bed and now he was going to pump his cum out and leave her trembling and used. He didn't care about anything but his own pleasure. She bit her lip and remembered the power of her body. The sudden spasms of pleasure he'd brought to her had made it hard to resist him. But now she was mad. She focused her concentration and bore down with all her might. She could feel the muscles around the beginning of her hole tighten down like the lens of a camera. Howell made a funny sound in his throat and then stopped fucking.
"Abby… Jesus! Hey, God damn you're gonna cut it off!"
But she wasn't finished yet. She knew she'd stopped him from coming. Now she wanted him to suffer a little more. She squinched her eyes and thought only of that trembling, muscular area where her brother's cock had speared her softness. But it wasn't so soft anymore. She tightened again, harder.
Howell choked and his mouth came open. His face was red with pain. She had the sonofabitch now! She felt like she could almost pinch his prick right off at the base. Of course she couldn't, but at least she'd cut off the blood flow, stopped his orgasm as surely as if she'd plunged an icicle up his ass.
"Now maybe you'll have some thought of my feelings," she whined, keeping the pressure against him. But she was beginning to ache down there. She couldn't keep it up forever. "Damn you, you… you animal!"
"Abby, let it off! Christ, it hurts like hell!"
"Why did you come in here tonight?" she hissed, jerking her hips to increase the pain on his cock.
"I told you… I couldn't help it. I've been watching you and I couldn't just smell your underwear and jack off any longer. I had to know how it would be!"
His confession had unexplainably excited her. So her twenty-five-year-old brother actually filched her underwear and used them as an erotic aid to his self abuse. A shiver went through her. She felt her anger starting to drain away. But she wanted to be mad at him!
"You're awful!" she gasped, knowing really that Howell's having stolen her panties was terribly exciting.
"Sometimes I watch you undress," he said, trying to kiss her mouth. "I stand out on the balcony and when you've got your doors closed, you don't see me."
"Watch me undress!" She weakened more. Her cunt muscles were aching more than ever. She couldn't keep squeezing him like that. And the more she thought of him with her underwear, watching her undress…
"I want you, Abby… got to have you." She'd let her defenses down and now her brother jerked his cock from her body. It came out with a sucking sound and he quickly wiggled down between her thighs. She struggled but it was too late. The next thing she felt was his open mouth covering her smoldering pubes. As his tongue gouged down along her slit, Abby sucked in a breath and held it, her willowy body shaking with the subtle friction he was bringing to her swollen parts.
"Uhhhh… Ohhh… Ohhh God, I never felt anything like that! Never… never!"
"Abby, Abby," he mumbled, pressing his lips against her again. His tongue raked pure pleasure from her pussy. She felt new floods of juice. She widened her thighs and bent her knees up, up until her long feet dangled in the air above Howell's head. And the noisy feast he was having began to send tendrils of ecstasy through her in steady, pulsing rhythms.
"Ahhhhhh," she coughed, feeling herself letting go. She came with a strangled whimper, clutching her brother's head against her butter-smeared petals, plunging her hot cunt up and down his open mouth. She'd fingerfucked hundreds of times, even been brought off by the fingers of a few talented men she'd known. But this was only the second time ever she'd gotten into paradise with a male mouth sucking her pussy juices, lapping hungrily at her ravaged clit. "Yuuuuhhhh!" she whimpered, flopping and squirming in the ecstasy that seemed to float her away.
Abby was dimly aware of her brother easing himself up onto her body again. She felt his hands exploring her big breasts, touching her belly. Then he kissed her neck. Between her legs she felt him move. Her thighs were pushed open and she realized the pressure against her cunt wasn't just a finger. He entered her easily, his pricktip smoothing back the swollen petals, forcing her hole wide. She lay on the bed, arms out, head to one side, letting him take what he wanted. She was giddy and weak from the force of her own climax. She'd never been bombarded by that much pleasure in such a short time. Her other orgasms seemed like child's play in comparison.
"Abby," Howell grunted, working his shaft deep, fucking her with even, forceful lunges, went on without hesitation, bringing himself quickly to a fever pitch. She could hear the increased tempo of his breathing, the frantic clutch of his hands against her ass as he neared his ultimate pleasure.
She gave a little whine as she sensed the sudden hardness of his thighs and belly. She knew he was going to shoot.
"Ohhh Howell, what if you make a baby?"
"I don't give a good God damn," he grunted and then his words were choked off by the passion. He held to her like a boy lost in a storm. His hips buffeted her as he speared and rammed and then jetted his thick seed into her pussy.
Abby hadn't tried to join him in the pleasure, hadn't meant to get worked up again. But the last few seconds of his lovemaking had gotten to her. She held to him tightly as his balls unloaded. She could feel the tension of her tube closing down again, could feel her own body yearning to have that ecstasy one more time.
"Don't stop! Ohhh God, don't stop now!"
"Baby… I gotta stop! Abby, you don't know how it is!"
"Damn you, I'm gonna do it again… I'm gonna come!"
"Jesus Abby, let go!"
"No… Nooooo!"
Their bodies made the bed lurch. She wrapped her legs around him and dug her heels into his ass checks. If only she had on those spurs she dreamed about!
"Damn," her brother gasped.
"Fuck me! You wanted to so bad, didn't you? Well, do it then!"
"Jeeeeezzzz!"
"Yesssss, so close! Ohhh hurry… faster! Damn you, Howell, go all the way!"
She forced him to give her every inch of his cock. It pressed against her deepest parts and she rocked her hips wildly, rubbing her engorged clit against the hilt of his shaft. The glorious tickle was hanging so close, but she couldn't quite reach it. And the stiffness was wilting. Howell's prick was going soft inside her.
"There! I got it! I'm going… going to… Yuhhhhhh!" she gasped, scratching blood from his back. Her hips lurched and danced as the tickly heat turned to the utmost pleasure. She sailed through galaxies, crying out, dying with the lust that had taken over her body. And then she spiraled down, down into her bed again, fighting to get her breath. Howell was a heavy weight, smashing her down into the mattress.
"Get off, damn it!" She pushed against his shoulders, rolled him to the side. He lay on his back, eyes closed. He looked like a corpse. And his cock was a shrunken snake that hung between his cum-smeared thighs.
Abby hurried to the bathroom and gave herself a douche. A girlfriend had told her the trick and given her a solution once. She'd never used it, but in the back of the mind knew that someday she might have just such an emergency. She'd never imagined that she'd be trying to murder her own brother's sperm. Gingerly she pried her lips apart and inserted the smooth tip. When it was deep in her pussy, she squeezed the rubber bag and felt the lukewarm liquid fill her and then dribble out into the toilet. The time for feeling shocked was past. Now she had only to struggle with the new emotions her brother had engendered in her mind. Would she find herself wanting him now? Would she start thinking about him when the sun went down? Howell had given her the most exciting sexual experience of her life. But even now she was picturing his long, hard cock. She was thinking of all the pleasure she could have from it in the future.
"God help me," she muttered, watching the drops plunk into the toilet. "I can't let this happen ever again." And then she thought of Aunt Mona. Surely Mona would give her some advice. She didn't have anywhere else to turn really. Her mother would just throw up her hands and get hysterical. But Mona knew about life, she understood. If she could just find the nerve to confess what had happened and what she'd felt.
Abby dabbed herself dry with a towel and glanced in the mirror. She looked like a slightly depraved Snow White. There were red splotches on her breasts and shoulders where Howell had kissed her. She closed her eyes, ran a fingernail across the places. Yes, she had to speak to Mona about all this. Because if she didn't, she might go begging Howell to take care of her again. The pleasure had been too intense to dismiss so lightly. She'd want more. And then more and more and more.
"Oh, why couldn't Perry excite me like this?" she murmured to no one in particular. Then she opened the bathroom door a crack and looked out. Her brother had gone.