Sex In The Family
by Martin Neil


CHAPTER ONE 

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. 

"Oh, Jesus," she gasped. "Oh, Jesus, I'm coming apart. I'm going crazy ... 
I'm ..." 

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." 


 THE END
