Mom & Me, & Sis Makes Three
(Unknown)


CHAPTER ONE 

Max killed the engine and got out of the car without so much as looking at 
Helen and the kids. They were all hoping so desperately for a vacancy at the 
hotel, they didn't even want to talk about it. Sally and Tim were bored with 
sleeping in the crowded camper; bored, in fact, with the whole vacation. If 
the weather hadn't turned so goddam cold, the youngsters could spread their 
sleeping bags on some beach under the stars. They were good kids, they 
hadn't bitched out loud, but he knew how they felt. And Helen had about had 
it with cooking and sleeping and just plain existing in one tiny space. 

Max had his own reasons for wanting a hotel room. Steady now, old man, he 
told himself. Sex wasn't the be-all and end-all of life. Just because he'd 
grown so accustomed to having so much of it, didn't mean he couldn't go one 
week without fucking somebody, even Helen. Then he felt guilty for putting 
it that way. They'd given up swinging for good reasons, and it hadn't been 
all her doing. He'd agreed, hadn't he? But when they planned this vacation 
as a sort of period in their lives, an end to sexual freedom and a 
beginning, or second start, on family togetherness, he hadn't expected it to 
mean total abstinence! No wonder he was getting irritable. 

He wrenched his mind back to the present. La Posada Vieja certainly lived up 
to its name: The Old Hotel. It wasn't much compared to a Hilton or even a 
Holiday Inn. Still, there was a certain charm to the ancient adobe building. 
He stood in an interior court which was colonaded around most of the four 
sides. Vines and other unidentifiable plants grew overhead and underfoot. He 
walked between them, looking for the office, and blinked. The hotel's 
laundry was draped in the courtyard, on clotheslines and bushes. That was 
one way of doing it, he thought. 

The office was empty, but he finally found the bar and a bartender who spoke 
English. When he went out to the camper again, he tried to make a joke of 
it. 

"Do you want the good news first, or the bad news?" 

Helen and the kids just looked at him, so he went on to explain. The Posada 
had one large room vacant; two double beds. "So I took it," he said. "At 
least it's a change." 

The kids were cheerful enough, but Helen didn't say anything and he wished 
he knew what she was thinking. Did she feel anywhere near as hot as he did? 
They could sneak out to the camper, if she did, once the kids were asleep. 
He wished now they'd stopped at the luxury hotel in San Ignacio. At this 
point, he'd be glad to pay almost thirty dollars for a private room for 
themselves, and another thirty for the kids. Of course it would shoot the 
hell out of their budget, but the ache in his groin didn't give a shit about 
money. 

There was no use thinking about it. Their room was huge, with tile floors 
and crappy furniture, but the beds looked okay. The stack of wood beside the 
fireplace promised warmth, at any rate. Once the luggage was in, he kindled 
a fire. They didn't really need it yet but it was one way of hiding his 
immense hard-on which he didn't want the kids to see. Kneeling in front of 
the fire, feeding it twigs,' he thought of all the times in the past few 
days he'd had to cross his legs, or hold a newspaper on his lap, or some 
other damn thing. Anything, he thought bitterly, to keep Sally and Tim from 
knowing their father was a real human being who got horny sometimes. 

Watching him from across the room, Helen grinned. Poor old Max! Poor old 
Helen, too, if it came to that. It wasn't one bit easier for her than it was 
for him. Except, of course, that his showed! And if the cream from her 
hungry cunt seeped through her panties, and even through her heavy pants, 
everybody would look the other way tactfully. They'd assume she was on the 
rag, or had some kind of female discharge or other. She rubbed her thighs 
together and tried to fix her mind on something else. If the sun would only 
shine! It was childish to fix her hopes for a new life on a two-week 
vacation. If this kept up, she'd quit arguing with Max and they'd be right 
back where they'd been, and she didn't want that. There'd been too many 
bummers. 

Not that she didn't like the sexual freedom, while it lasted it was 
marvelous. All her fantasies came to life sooner or later. She'd been told 
every woman dreams about rape, and she believed it. Brought up in prudery as 
most women were, rape was the only way they could enjoy themselves without 
guilt. And some of her encounters in their swinging group had sure as hell 
seemed like rape to her. 

The trouble was, good manners lasted even in swinging. Or maybe it was a 
basic sense of fairness, or fear of the group's disapproval. What was she 
supposed to do, when Max was fucking the hell out of Bernice across the 
room? Bernice's husband Paul was a slob, and she'd managed to avoid him up 
till then. She sat and had a cigarette and watched Max, his hard white ass 
moving in a fast blur, as he pounded his superbig prick into Bernice. Just 
thinking about it made her cunt contract and the cream flow heavier in her 
itchy pussy. Bernice was a slob, too, but a sexy slob. Her boobs looked like 
two big bowls of white jelly, spilling and squashing over her chest. One 
thing, it was fascinating to see what others looked like naked. Bernice's 
tits were the biggest she'd ever seen, their aureoles big as saucers, the 
nipples themselves rosy-brown and as long as a finger joint. When Max sucked 
one of them in his mouth, it must feel like swallowing somebody's finger. 

She remembered with a shiver how Paul came up and grabbed her by the ass. 
His fingers cupped around her buttock, and he squeezed hard. Hard enough to 
make her yelp. 

He just grinned and squeezed again. "Come on, baby, lie down and spread 'em 
out. You can smoke any time." 

She didn't want to. Some of the other women complained about his roughness, 
and besides, she was exhausted. She'd spent the past half hour giving her 
best blow job to another man, one she really liked and enjoyed. He'd gone 
down on her, too, and she'd enjoyed it so thoroughly, she wanted just to sit 
and remember for a moment. 

"Later, Paul," she said. "I'm tired." 

"You don't have to do anything," he smirked. "Men do all the work, didn't 
you know that? Come on, gash, I want a piece right now." 

It wasn't only his rudeness. They had rules about it and no man or woman was 
supposed to have to do anything they didn't want to. Only-not too many 
argued with Paul. Looking at his huge body, she could see why. He was built 
like a wrestler, the muscles in his arms writhing like snakes under his 
hairy pelt. And he was an MCP if ever she'd seen one-a male chauvinist pig. 
She wasn't exactly a women's libber, but she did have respect for herself as 
a person. To Paul she was just what he'd said: gash. An ugly word. 

Some of the women complained about his roughness, but she had to admit 
others liked it. And they all noticed his enormous cock, looking sideways 
out of their eyes at it even without an erection. Paul made fun of the other 
men who liked hugging and kissing and feeling a woman up. Foreplay was for 
sissies, he said. A cunt, and he made that an ugly word, too, didn't have to 
do anything but spread her legs, and he'd give her the thrill of her life, 
he boasted. 

Paul balanced his hard prick on his hands, waving it in front of her face. 
"Look what I've got for you," he boasted. The huge scarlet head weaved a 
little as if feinting, like a boxer. The shaft was dark with blood, too, 
bursting thickly out of his matted pubic hair. It was right in front of her 
eyes and she gasped and drew back a little. That made him angry. 

"Come on, cunt," he said, pulling her up by one arm. 

She could have made a fuss, of course. That was where the rape fantasy came 
in. Secretly she was enjoying the sensation of being forced against her 
will. When she really thought about it, she knew that was Paul's appeal. 
Even if he'd never figured it all out, he must sense it, and lived up to his 
role. Part of her secretly thrilled to his crudity. In fact, she had the 
sudden impulse to wrap her lips around his fantastically big dong, but she 
put it down. It wouldn't suit the little play they were acting out. Instead, 
she let him pull her into an empty bedroom and toss her on the bed. 

Helen had a clear picture in her mind of how they'd looked, as if she'd been 
able to watch in a mirror. She was rather a small woman, flat-stomached and 
sparely built except for her tits. She had a pair of knockers, she knew, 
which almost looked obscene on her slim body. Oh, her hips were rounded and 
womanly. After all, she'd had three children. But for the age of thirty-six, 
her body looked slimly unused. She enjoyed the satiny white look of her skin 
in contrast to Paul's swarthy hairiness. Her mass of glossy brown hair had 
long ago come tumbling down around her shoulders, and her curly triangle 
glistened with cream and semen. 

Paul crouched over her on his hands and knees, his hard prick brushing 
against her thighs. At least he didn't want to fuck her in the ass, she 
thought with a delicious thrill of fear. Much as she enjoyed having her anus 
reamed out, she knew it couldn't take anything the size of him. 

She clenched her round thighs together only to have the fun of feeling him 
wrench them apart. When she pushed at his shoulders, he pinned her wrists 
with his big hands. Slowly, leisurely, he poked at her hair-lined slit with 
his hot cockhead. The bulging scarlet flesh burned as it slid inside. Helen 
gasped, and this time it was for real. 

"God, Paul," she whimpered. "I feel like I got a telephone pole up me." 

He smirked and said, "You want a real ride, baby, you come to ol' Paul." 

She'd never felt so stuffed and filled before. Her resilient cunt walls were 
stretched as far as they could go, sending out a thick profusion of juices 
to ease his way. Even her clit was touched and sweetly abraded without his 
having to do anything special about it. Her eyes widened as she felt the 
cockhead twitch deep in her belly. God, he was right smack up against her 
backbone! She just couldn't believe the sensations it gave her, a tingling 
sort of pain that faded into warm spreading pleasure. And when he began to 
saw slowly in and out.... 

"Mom! What's the matter, Mom, you sick or something?" 

Helen blinked and came back to the present. Her face reddened as she 
realized where she was, and how. Crouched over on a wooden chair, her hands 
between her thighs, hair swinging while she breathed quickly in remembered 
ecstasy. 

Tim looked at her curiously. "Are you sick?" 

"Uh ... oh, no, darling, not really. Just had a little pain in my turn but 
it's gone already. I guess I must be hungry." 

"Let's eat, then. Dad and Sally are in the dining room already." The boy 
wondered if he should help her up, but was relieved to see her smile and 
rise and look normal again. There were so many things about grownups he 
didn't understand. Even though he was fourteen and considered himself almost 
an adult, he had trouble figuring out what being an adult meant. 

In the dining room, Helen found it easy to drift again into her reverie. The 
kids read comic books while they waited for the meal. Max seemed lost in a 
dream of his own. After sixteen years of marriage, she was able to guess 
pretty accurately where his thoughts were, and they weren't too different 
from her own. 

She remembered again how orgasm had thundered through her, as she lay 
gasping and panting under Paul's heavy body. His hot seed squirted into her 
and overflowed her cunt, trickling warmly down the inside of her thighs. 
Paul's smile was triumphant, he was as pleased with himself as a kitten in 
cream. And she too was certainly satisfied-physically. She'd cum so many 
times that evening already, she'd lost count. 

Wandering back into the living room-Paul was never one to enjoy the 
snugglings and whisperings and happy kisses after climax-she'd looked around 
at the group. Most of them were as wiped out as she and Paul. The women had 
begun to comb their hair and slip into clothes, and some of the men were 
also partly dressed. Others still sprawled nakedly exhausted, flushed with 
satisfaction, maybe enjoying a last few minutes of exhibitionistic behavior. 
Swingers were also apt to be exhibitionists, she'd long ago discovered. 

And that's when a little voice in her head said: Enough of this. You've had 
enough of this. 

She'd expected a big argument from Max, and he did grumble and ask her to 
think about it for a while. But he didn't scream and holler, as she'd 
thought he might. He accepted it, without really explaining why. They both 
knew the other couples in their swap group would make a fuss, so they 
planned this vacation in advance of telling their friends. They hoped by the 
time they returned, the worst would be over. Those who wanted to maintain 
the friendship without swapping sex, would do so; and the others would drift 
away. 

Of course while they wanted to be together as a family, neither she nor Max 
had quite this degree of togetherness in mind. She'd imagined nights in the 
camper, or in their sleeping bags in the moonlight, and enough privacy so 
they could take care of each other's needs. It would be fun, they both 
thought, to talk over all the exciting and sometimes comical events of their 
swinging lives, until they'd worked each other to a fever pitch of 
sexuality. 

Instead, they were stuck first with the kids in the camper and now, the four 
of them in one hotel room! Damn it all, she told herself, we've got to let 
go somehow! She almost wished she had the nerve to slip a sedative in the 
kids' cokes, to make sure they'd sleep through the night. But that wouldn't 
really be necessary, they could always go to the camper. 

The waitress finally showed up with a tray load of food, the kids put down 
their comic books and the family talked as they ate. She noticed Max looking 
at his watch for the third or fourth time, and winked at him. 

"It's eight o'clock already," she said. "Why don't we sit in the bar for a 
while after dinner? Give the kids a chance to get settled down and to 
sleep." 

Good idea," he said. "Damn good idea, Helen." Sally and Tim looked at each 
other and didn't say anything. It was obvious to them they were supposed to 
go to bed early, to suit the convenience of their parents. But they were 
tired, and neither one really minded. 

CHAPTER TWO 

He couldn't get his mind off his cock. They perched on stools in the small 
bar and chatted with other hotel guests, and Max even downed a couple of 
straight tequilas. But it didn't help, nothing helped. He was achingly, 
endlessly horny. With the ease of long experience, he and Helen separated 
and became involved in conversation with different groups. The attraction 
for him, he realized helplessly, was a little Mexican-American girl named 
Rosalia. Too Young, the sensible part of his mind warned him. But her spare 
little figure and perky tits excited him tremendously. 

The tequila-and what was wrong with one more?-made everything clear to him. 
The reason, the only reason, he'd been willing to give up the sex swap 
parties with their friends was his increasing boredom with the very 
over-abundance of female flesh. He'd begun to see past the big voluptuous 
breasts and rounded hips and drowningly huge cunts, to the extra rolls of 
fat and the wrinkles beginning on necks and bellies. Superprick, his wife 
called him, and Paul was even bigger in that department. But he sometimes 
wondered about the other husbands, more normally built. Didn't they get 
tired of mature vaginas once in a while? 

Rosalia couldn't be more than sixteen, but the Mexicans were permissive 
about teenage drinkers-or even younger. Maybe they kept their own kids in 
control, but they didn't give a damn what the tourists did as long as they 
paid for it. Her parents had gone to bed; and she demurely accepted his 
offers of rum and coke, and didn't pull back when he drunkenly rubbed up 
against her. 

"You're young enough to be my daughter," he leered at her. 

"But I'm not your daughter," she returned provocatively. 

Damn right, he wouldn't let Sally sit in a bar and be mauled by old sots 
like himself! He peered into the neckline of her loose blouse and was 
rewarded with a glimpse of the rise of her satiny tan breasts, widely 
separated, hanging like young but ripe fruit. She shrugged somehow, and her 
rosy little tits came into view. Goddamn, this kid was asking for it! Her 
nipples peaked and pushed against her blouse. No bra, of course. 

"Older men are so - interesting," Rosalia murmured. 

He put his hand on her knee, and somehow her skirt twitched upward just in 
time so he was fondling warm firm flesh instead of fabric. Shivers ran down 
his spine. This beautiful little girl really was going for him in a big way! 
He pulled his shoulders back and sucked his belly in. Forty years old, and 
he could still attract a pretty girl! Helen had remarked only yesterday that 
the streak of gray in his hair made him look distinguished, and since the 
child was so short, she couldn't see the place on top where the hair was 
thinning. 

"Little girls are interesting, too," he said playfully. He shot a quick 
glance around; was he getting in trouble? But nobody seemed to pay the 
slightest attention. There was a lot of drinking and laughter and 
conversation. The tourists were comparing mileage driven that day, and 
complaining about the high price of gas, and the fact that the hotel rooms 
had no keys. Helen-he grinned to see it-was deep in conversation with a kid 
who looked about eighteen. Maybe she was on the same kick he was on! 

Rosalia had surveyed the crowd too, and felt safe. She put her slim brown 
hand on his thigh, not his knee, his thigh! And when she squeezed it hotly, 
his cock stood up and saluted. He watched her watching the bulge in his 
pants, and licked his lips. She had a little smile on her face; it was 
obvious she knew what it was all about, and for once he didn't have to 
shuffle around to hide his hard-on. 

Then she threw her head back, the black shiny hair bouncing, and drained her 
glass. "May I have another one, please?" 

Max managed to force out the words to the bartender through a dry throat. 
The heat from her hand radiated throughout his body, and his huge prick 
stirred and pushed painfully against his fly. This was something like it! 
Even one night with a little darling like this should more than compensate 
for the lost swap parties. And he didn't think Helen would object, the way 
she almost drooled on the youngster she was talking to. 

He caught snatches of her conversation as he lifted the shot glass. "... so 
you're Basque, how interesting," she cooed. And when the kid answered with a 
strong Mexican accent, he got the picture. He'd read in a guidebook that 
there were a lot of French and their descendants here. 

The fiery liquid hit the back of his throat, and he gulped. He knew tequila 
was dynamite, but shit, he didn't have to drive any more that day, and it 
sure as hell wasn't affecting his potency! He turned back to Rosalia and 
discovered her fingers had inched upward, so they rubbed against the 
concealed yet obvious cockhead. 

"You'd better be careful," he said thickly. "You don't want to tease a man 
like that. Not unless you mean it." 

"But maybe I mean it." Her smile was the most alluring thing he'd seen in 
his whole life. Her pointed red tongue shot out and licked her soft lips. 

"So do I," he whispered huskily. 

"What you like?" she said softly. "Like to fuck, suck? Want Rosalia to take 
you around the world? You don't have to do anything, I do it all. Give you 
the best time you ever had." 

He was stunned. His mind accepted her words and computed them, but his 
hungry cock wouldn't listen to reason. It swelled even more until he could 
barely manage to sit on the stool. But just the same, he had enough sense 
left to know the truth. He had to prove it, though. "How much?" he managed 
to say. She shrugged. "Depends on what you want. Not too much, for what 
you're getting. And a handsome man like you ..." She put her hand boldly 
right on top of his swollen cock, and he almost leaped through the ceiling. 

"Goddamn it! How old are you, Rosalia?" 

"What difference does it make?" She squeezed again, and his spine turned 
into a puddle of hot melted jelly. "If you want to know, you like little 
girls, right? Well, I'm fifteen." 

He groaned. His hard-on died painfully, leaving a terrible ache in his 
groin. No way was he going to make it with a child prostitute! He was 
tempted, sure, he might never have a chance like this again. The thought of 
her immature pussy was like a stab wound to his gut. He could see it, feel 
it, almost taste it. But he knew with dismal certainty that he'd worry too 
much to enjoy it. A fifteen-year-old hooker-what might she not have? He 
remembered reading about kids in Hollywood, and other places, too, who'd do 
it for the price of a meal. But they all had venereal diseases, the 
statistics were frightening. His rational mind, what was left of it, told 
him he'd never have the guts to go through with it. Think how long he'd be 
cut off from any sex if he got VD! That alone was enough to cool him. 

With a heartfelt groan, he lifted her hand from the place where his huge 
erection used to be. "Have another drink, kid," he said. "Or go find another 
john, if you want. Yeah, that's better, go peddle it someplace else. That's 
all she wrote, for me." He sighed heavily. "Give me a double, Pedro. 
Something to make me sleep." 

Rosalia looked as if she might argue, and he turned his back on her. He 
heard her slip down from the stool, and get lost in the crowd. Goddamn, I 
hate myself, he thought. He tipped back the drink, funny how it hardly 
burned by this time, and followed it up with lemon and salt. He never could 
remember the order you were supposed to do it in, but what the shit. It all 
went to the same place. 

Lost in self-pity, Max stumbled out the door. No use to spoil Helen's good 
time, if the kid wanted to tumble her, let him. He made his way through the 
jungle by moonlight, heading without thought for the outside door and the 
camper. He needed to be alone. 

He'd gotten the rear door unlocked when a cold little hand slipped into his. 
His treacherous cock lurched even as he recognized his daughter through the 
drunken haze. The dear little girl, she'd come to comfort her daddy. If only 
Rosalia had been as pure and sweet as Sally! 

"Hop inside, honey, you'll get a chill." He gave her a hand up the step. 
"What's the matter, couldn't sleep?" 

"No. And Tim was snoring up a storm. I was just wandering around, Daddy, and 
I saw you and ... you looked so sad!" She was shivering in the night air. 
She wore thin pajamas and a robe, and her feet were bare. "Oooo, let me 
snuggle up, Daddy! You're so nice and warm!" 

He sat on a bunk and lifted her into his lap. He could feel her shake with 
cold and wrapped his arms around her slim body. She smelled nice, like good 
soap and water, and for the first time he recollected Rosalia's heavy, musky 
perfume. It should have given him a clue-lots of things should have clued 
him in sooner. He just hadn't wanted to know. His hand slid under Sally's 
robe and tightened on her thin waist. 

"What were you so blue about, Daddy?" She tilted her head back and looked at 
him. "Don't tell me, I mean you never would tell me, would you? You think 
I'm just a baby!" 

"What are you talking about, Missy?" He used the baby name which she claimed 
she'd outgrown, afraid her friends would figure out it stood for Miss 
Mischief. But now she didn't seem to mind, because she planted a soft little 
kiss on his lips. 

"You know," she said wisely. "You and Mom must... miss your friends. I see 
you trying to hide it all the time. I'm not a baby, I'm not!" 

"Hide?" He was too drunk to follow the conversation; his mind was filled 
with maudlin memories of his little precious girl. He used to tickle her 
bottom when he changed her didie, and how she chuckled and smiled! She used 
to follow him to the bathroom in her long nightie, and perch on the closed 
toilet lid while he shaved. In fact, it was only a few years ago he'd begun 
to shut her out of the bathroom when he took a piss. He could still remember 
her big-eyed stare as his fat dick splashed its hot yellow pee into the 
bowl. What was it she used to say? Her sweet face solemn, her chubby fingers 
pointing. "Is that yours, Daddy? Is that yours?" 

She brought him back to the present abruptly. "Yes, hide! Hide this!" And 
somehow she wiggled her little bottom until his aching hard-on was pinned 
between her ass cheeks. It felt so good, he groaned in pleasure. The warmth 
of her little buttocks penetrated through the layers of clothing, and seemed 
to clasp his swelling organ in a delicious grip. 

"Hooooghhh," he moaned in spite of himself. "Honey, you don't know what 
you're doing!" 

"Oh, Daddy, I love you!" she said. "But we never talk any more! When you 
shut the bathroom door on me, you shut me out of your life." 

If she was having the same memories, he thought foggily, there must be 
something to it. He leaned against the upholstered back of the seat, simply 
unable to draw away from the exciting pressure on his sore penis. He felt 
her loosen his grip on her, and wanted to protest but before he could open 
his mouth, she'd reversed her position. She sat on his lap leaning into him, 
her beginning tits pushing against the thin silk and brushing his chest. 
Somehow, her thighs managed to clamp around the solid bulk of his enormous 
swollen cock. Her hands were on his head, holding him behind the ears. 

"Daddy, can't we talk now? I just need to talk to you!" Her plaintive cry 
gave him a new guilt to think about. 

"Of course, sweets, you can talk about anything you want!" 

Sally's heart leaped with happiness. At last she had what she wanted! She 
had her father's attention, all of it. She had him alone, in a situation 
where they weren't likely to be interrupted. And best of all, she had the 
physical nearness she'd longed for. She'd felt so funny lately! She wanted 
to hug and kiss, but there was nobody to hug. This funny feeling in her 
belly deviled her all the time. She couldn't sleep at nights, and found her 
hands slipping in between her thighs to rub the spot that bugged her so. 

Sometimes she was damp down there, and she didn't know what it meant-though 
some deep-seated wisdom seemed to tell her it was important. And if you 
couldn't talk to your Daddy, who could you talk to! 

"Go on, Missy, tell the old man about it." Max experienced some release from 
tension just holding her so close. Oh, the pretty little loving girl! The 
precious sweet body rubbing up on him! He'd never do anything to hurt her, 
but neither could he refuse anything she asked of him. 

"I don't know how to begin." She bit her lip, trying to see his face in the 
moonlight which filtered in the back window. "Dad, I get such funny feelings 
lately. Especially-well, right here! Right down here!" She took her father's 
hand and guided it, to slip between her flat belly and pajama pants. The 
elastic stretched as his fingers followed her lead, rubbing on the funny 
flap of flesh which particularly bothered her. 

"Daddy, ohhhhhh! That feels so great!" 

Okay, Max told himself, just keep your cool. Why the hell hadn't Helen 
explained all this to the kid? Her baby clit was upraised and firm, fatly 
pushing on his fingertips. He stroked it lightly, smiling to himself as he 
felt her quiver with pleasure. Between the tequila, his love for his 
daughter, and his own pushing cock, he didn't feel the least bit guilty now. 
So Missy was growing up! She needed to learn about her body, about boys and 
men, about sex and life. It made him feel good all over to know of the life 
of joyous sexuality ahead of her. 

The only thing was, it took two to tango. He remembered the awkward, stupid 
boys who hung around Sally lately, some of them with long hair, all of them 
tongue-tied and shy or else fresh and obnoxious. The thought of some other 
male, boy or man, dipping into his treasure made him furious. A terrible 
image burst into his mind: his sweet innocent Sally, her slim legs and arms 
entangled with the bony hairy legs and arms of a pimple-faced boy. Or worse. 
A lecherous older man, a man like himself who'd been ready to fuck the 
daylights out of a fifteen-year-old as long as he thought she was innocent! 

"Arrggghhh!" He ground his teeth in impotent jealousy of the nameless 
faceless ravisher of purity. 

"Daddy! What's wrong? Why are you making that funny noise?" She peered at 
him in the semi-darkness, alarmed even though her hips had gone into an odd 
little back-and-forth dance on his lap. "Daddy, don't stop rubbing me, 
please!" 

"Show 'em all," he mumbled. He could see it so clearly now. He had to arm 
her innocence, he had to satisfy her artless cravings and keep her safe from 
men. His fingers picked up their smooth stroking again, and slid farther 
under her bottom. Strange, how the miniature pussy could be designed just 
like a woman's and yet feel so different! Part of it was the lack of a bush, 
of course. Sally's fuzz barely tickled his fingertips. Was her pubic hair 
brown, he wondered, like her mother's? Sally was blonde, so was Tim; though 
Helen said she had been, too, as a child. All of a sudden his curiosity 
demanded he find the answer. 

"Here," he grunted. "Get on your knees, honey, yes, that's right." He pulled 
at the elastic waistband of her pajama pants. "Don't get in a stew, sweets, 
Daddy is just going to do something else. That'll make you feel even 
better." 

He pulled the pants off clumsily, and then positioned her again on her 
knees, facing him where he knelt on the camper floor. "Are you warm enough?" 
he asked anxiously, but if she answered, the words didn't register. He put 
his face close to her pussy and stared. God, how pink and smooth and 
perfect! The soft curls glinted in the moonlight; first they were gold, then 
brown. He couldn't tell, he'd need a better light. But right now, what he 
needed most he had. His tongue shot out, slapping against the rosy cunt lips 
wetly. He felt her jump and then tremble, leaning into him. Steadying her 
with his hands on her hips, he poked at her shiny clit with his tongue tip. 

He'd had a thorough lesson-just as Helen did-in the many variations of 
standard anatomy, through their nakedly revealing sex parties. Before he'd 
never thought about it, at least as far as females were concerned. Boys, and 
sometimes men, eyed each other's genitals secretly in gym showers and at 
urinals. If one was bold enough to begin it, they'd compare lengths and make 
crude jokes about themselves. Now he was as anxious to explore and discover 
his child's hidden parts as had been to see her teeth come in straight, and 
to watch her blob of a baby nose turn into a delicate replica of her 
mother's. 

As he'd expected smugly all along, the little girl was perfect. The pubic 
curls, brown or yellow, curled beguilingly over the fat pink rim of her 
labia. Her clitoris was delightful, especially as it came erect and poked 
out toward his tongue. No wonder the sweet baby had what she called funny 
feelings! He slid the hot wetness of his tongue along it, tasting her juices 
that seeped from her ragged inner hps, and thinking they .were sweet as 
honey. 

"Go on, Daddy," she said fretfully. "You don't have to diagram it!" 

He laughed and suggested she he down on her back. His hands pulled her knees 
apart. Ah, at last she was right in a beam of moonlight and he could see. 
Pale brown, definitely. He ran his hot pebbly tongue into her snatch, 
feeling the viscous inner flesh quiver. He was turning her on, all right, 
because the hot cream bubbled against his lips! And the way her little tail 
switched back and forth proved to him she was really excited; that made him 
very, very happy. She didn't need any other male when she had her own loving 
Daddy! 

She began to shove her pelvis at him in little uncoordinated movements, 
gasping "Oh! Oh! Oh!" with each forward thrust. He felt his belt digging 
into his waist, and his still painful erection disturbing his concentration 
on her pleasure. Somehow, without stopping his hot tongue-lapping, he got 
the belt unbuckled, the fly unzippered and his pants dropped to his knees. 
Phew, that was better. 

He pressed his tongue up toward the small indentation, the entrance to her 
womb and felt it give with elastic readiness. Not too much of that, he 
warned himself, and went back to her clit. His lips formed a tight circle 
around the bud of flesh and he sucked hard, at the same time flicking it 
with his tongue. 

"Crimanently, Daddy!" she gasped. She was panting heavily, and her whole 
body was in constant motion. Her shoulders heaved, pressing against, the 
soft sleeping bag on the bunk. Her hips and pelvis described tight little 
circles. Her hands clutched the bag tightly. "I feel so peculiar!" She tried 
to catch her breath, and added, "But good-don't stop-it feels good!" 

His hands moved over her body, stroking the belly that pooched out a little 
with her efforts, enclosing her little boobs and thumbing the tits, stroking 
her sides, tickling under her arms. He was lost in a mindless ecstasy, only 
vaguely conscious of his own heavily throbbing cock and tight balls. His 
tongue pushed and stroked, wetly slathering across her satiny warm slit, 
even reaching up between her buttocks for a moment, sliding down the warm 
crease of her ass. He just couldn't get enough of her! She was sweet and 
precious, beautiful and soft and warm, and she was all his! 

Suddenly her little body stiffened, held on the trembling edge of orgasm 
while a rosy flush crept over her boobs and belly. 

"Owwwwwww! Ooooooooo!" Her hips jerked convulsively, driving her wet 
trembling twat down on his face. "What's this?" she cried out loudly. 
"AHHHHHHHHH! EEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKK!" 

He smiled into her wet pussy and kept on sucking as he felt the fluttering 
vibrations of her labia against his cream-wet mouth and nose and tongue. 
Jesus, what a great feeling! He was giving her this gorgeous orgasm that 
jolted through her and made her mewl and yelp so joyously! 

Max sat down on the camper floor with a thump, suddenly aware that he was so 
screamingly horny, he thought he'd burst. If it were any other female in the 
world but his own daughter, he'd have his fat dong in her before she knew 
what happened. As it was, he wrapped his fingers around his aching meat and 
began to pump. He couldn't help what she might be thinking, he just had to 
get his rocks off! Right now! 

"Poor Daddy," a soft little voice cooed. He felt his fingers being pried 
apart gently. 'Tell me what to do now, Daddy, tell me how to do it. I want 
to make you happy, too. Ohhhh, Daddy!" 

CHAPTER THREE 

Helen ran her hand lightly down the boy's leg, feeling the soft fuzz of 
hair, the smoothness of tanned skin, the firm long stretch of muscle 
underneath. Fourteen years old, and he'd decided a couple months ago to 
sleep in his underwear. His jockey shorts, to be exact. Let him do what he 
wants, Max said, laughing at her for being conventional. Fourteen, and now 
three inches taller than his mother, but still looking like a child to her 
loving eye. 

The room was quiet in the moonlight. She ought to think where Sally could 
be, and Max, too, but she had to assume they were together. Sally was a 
sensible girl, she wouldn't be wandering around a strange Mexican town alone 
at night. Helen's mind was fuzzy with liquor or she might have been alarmed. 
And she had another problem besides being half-drunk. Problems, was the 
word. Her first and foremost area of concern was her condition of sexual 
frustration, not because she wanted it to be but because she couldn't help 
it. All evening in the bar, she'd had to switch from one foot to the other, 
or if she were sitting, from one ham to the other, trying to keep from 
rubbing her hot twat on the bar stool. Shit! Why wasn't Max here when she 
needed him? She was sure he hadn't gotten with that little Mexican hooker, 
because the damn child-whore was still in the bar, rubbing herself against 
one sucker after the other. So where was he? 

She hadn't masturbated since she was a teenager, but it seemed she was back 
to the juvenile outlet. That Mexican, the one who looked as white as Tim, 
had gotten her even more charged up than usual. She'd really only started 
talking to him when she thought Max was about to take off with Rosalia. An 
I'll-show-him kind of thing, because it hurt her to be deserted for a 
teenager. Only it hadn't worked out exactly that way, because she'd gotten 
in a real sweat about the boy-Roberto. He was so young, his skin so soft and 
smooth, with the sheen of youth just like her own kids. He had enough 
English, he was easy to talk to, and obviously flattered to have the pretty 
gringo woman notice him. 

The sex-swap parties had changed her, no doubt about it. A year ago, before 
they'd begun, she wouldn't have had the nerve to fix her eyes on the boy's 
crotch, even after she saw it begin to bulge out. God, a kid like that could 
probably go four, five times a night, maybe more! Well, she could still do 
it. He was waiting hopefully, though she hadn't promised. She had to check 
on her kids, she said; but she really expected Max would be here waiting for 
her. She'd lingered just long enough to let him know how she felt about his 
messing around with the little hooker. 

So here she was-high but not dry. Oh, Jesus, no, not dry at all! Her cream 
seeped out constantly, because her cunt was so damn hot she could hardly 
stand it. Shit, she'd fuck the damn bedpost in another minute! Too bad Tim 
was her own son, because she could tell by his physical condition what kind 
of dream he was having. The swelling in his white shorts looked every bit as 
big to her as that Roberto's. And if her weren't her son, if she didn't have 
to face him in the morning, she'd crawl right in the double bed and pull up 
the sheet, and shove her stimulated titties into his face. And wrap her 
thighs around his waist while she played with his half-hard prick and got it 
nice and big and ready .. . Oh, shit! 

She crawled on the other half, the empty half, of the bed and leaned on the 
headboard. It was cozier somehow, even though Tim was asleep, than getting 
into the other bed alone. She'd already dropped her pants on the chair, and 
now she slipped her nylon panties off, too, and tossed them on the floor. 
The cool air hitting her wet yearning pussy just about made her crazy. It 
wasn't coolness she wanted there, but hot male meat! 

Her fingers separated the slickly wet folds of her labia and rubbed along 
her fat quaking clit. It would have been fun to play with that young Mexican 
stud, to teach him how to arouse her and eat her pussy, before that moved on 
to a grand finale of wild, furious fucking. She tried to imagine what young 
cock looked like, but after all, Max'd been twenty-seven when they married, 
and Helen a virgin. Until the swap parties, he'd been the only man she ever 
saw naked. About the time Tim got big enough to be aware of himself, she'd 
quit giving him baths, so she didn't know from her son either. 

It'd be smooth and white, she decided. Probably very pretty. She looked 
across the bed and saw Tim's fly gave way under the pressure of his swelling 
dick. Yes, just like that! Not as big as a man's and, well, smoother. Paler. 
She could see the red nut pushing back the foreskin and a drop of jism 
gleaming. Yes, that's how it'd be with Roberto. And how would she look to 
him? She glanced down at her hands, now stroking and caressing and plunging 
into her cunt, and it was as if they weren't part of her at all, but 
belonged to an invisible lover. 

To deepen the deception, she closed her eyes. A good swift hard fuck was 
what she needed, and she rammed three fingers in and out of her cunt, not 
worrying about the slurpy noises. That young stud at the bar would go out of 
his mind, the way her juicy inner walls closed on his penis and urged it to 
fuck faster. Her mind tried to pretend it was really happening, but reality 
kept penetrating even into her drink-fogged mind. 

She squeezed her eyes tighter, screwing her face up with the intensity of 
her mood. Even his hands would be better than her own, because how could you 
pretend when you knew all the time ... no, it was getting better, His 
fingers were a little clumsy, but that was part of the charm. He worked them 
into her dribbling cunt stiffly, gaining confidence as the dream or fantasy 
took a stronger hold. 

"Yess, yessss," she moaned. "That's the way, darling. Now kiss it, kiss 
Helen's pussy, please! Stick your big old fat tongue up my snatch, yeah!" 
Rocking, undulating with the strength of her need, she felt his warm breath 
on her inner thighs. Then his tongue moved in, carefully at first as if he 
were trying it out, not sure he'd like it. Then the rough" hot tongue began 
to stab, hitting the right place on the third try, slipping up into her 
steaming passage while his nose and chin smacked loudly on her bush and her 
ass-crease. 

Of course she knew all the time what was happening; but if she kept her eyes 
closed, she wouldn't have to admit it, would she? At least-she could put off 
the horror of the truth until after she'd had her kicks! Because no matter 
what her mind and conscience tried to tell her, there was no force in the 
world which could peel her off that deliriously torturing tongue until she'd 
had at least one cum. Just one lousy little tiny orgasm, she pleaded 
silently. 

Her son Tim continued plunging his face into the damp, odorous crotch, 
finding to his surprise that it was a very pleasant feeling. He never would 
have dreamed it, it sounded nasty when he'd heard talk about eating pussy. 
But something rippled through him, something dark and exciting. He knew that 
he'd blended into his mother's fantasy, that she kept her eyes closed so she 
wouldn't see it was her own son kissing and tonguing and sucking her in 
these intimate parts. But maybe, he thought, he was finally beginning to 
learn something, something he very much wanted to know. 

"Darling, darling," she moaned, "suck my clit, yes, suck it hard!" She put 
her hands on his head and maneuvered him where she wanted him, so his mouth 
pressed hot and wet on her clitoris. She wouldn't let herself think about 
anything except the thrill at being touched and excited in the most 
sensitive part of her body. 

"Ahhhhhh, urrrrroooffff!" She moaned. Her ass and labia contracted with her 
cum, as the sweet ripples spread through her. "My, but that's nice ... so 
nice, darling!" 

She rubbed her thighs together, in happy release. But her pleasant languor 
didn't last long. She knew she had to open her eyes sooner or later, and she 
knew what she'd see. But before she forced herself to it, the boy crawled up 
alongside her. This was a golden opportunity for him and he meant to make 
the most of it. He wasn't sure exactly what he'd been doing down there, nor 
what the fat bump he'd been sucking on was for. A clit, she'd called it? One 
thing he did know about was boobs and in the last year, he'd spent a lot of 
time trying to get a good view of them-his mother's, or anyone's. His 
sister's little tits didn't impress him much, but Mom's knockers, now, that 
was something else! 

He ran his fingers over the smooth flesh, feeling its inner fatness, its 
soft resilience. He shivered and explored happily, lightly running his 
fingertips over the soft yet pebbly circles around her nipples. She drew in 
a sharp breath when he fingered her tits, but a look at her face told him 
she liked it. He was fascinated as the pink buds came erect under his touch. 

"Wow, look at that!" he cried. 

Helen opened her eyes. "Tim," she said faintly. She couldn't think of 
another word to say. 

"Gosh, Mom, they feel so good!" He was full of questions but he didn't know 
where to begin. "What is that bump down there, like a little dick? Is that 
where girls pee?" he asked naively. 

She had to laugh. "No, no, honey! It's called a clitoris. It isn't for 
anything, really, except to feel good." 

"No shit? Can I look again?" 

"Uh, well, no. I don't think you'd better do that, honey." She blinked, 
trying to bring herself back to a sense of reality. What if Max-or 
Sally-walked in during that little session? And yet she felt so comfortable 
and relaxed, lying with her arms around her darling son, she didn't want to 
move. She stroked his arms and shoulders, enjoying the feel of his smooth 
warm body. Lulled by a more familiar maternal role, she felt him cling to 
her limply. It was very late. Any minute now, she'd brush her teeth and put 
on her nightie and go to sleep. 

Tim shifted his hips, bringing his crotch under her hand, and without 
realizing what she was doing, she began to stroke his half-hard penis. 

She'd done the same thing when he cried as a baby and this was merely an 
extension of her motherhood. The firm yet rubbery little prick lay in the 
curl of her palm, her fingers closing over the smooth white shaft. She 
stared dreamily into space while the organ grew fat and hard. 

"Mom, you make me feel so good," Tim sighed. 

She smiled, and then came to herself with a start. She knew she should quit, 
then, but she let her hand linger on the warm prick, pumping it gently. She 
could let go in a minute if the door opened, she told herself. 

"This is a no-no, honey" she said archly. 

"Aw, gosh, Mom, don't stop! Play with my cock, please! I'll hurt all night 
if you don't!" 

She gave in to his boyish blackmail, reaching around him until he lay snugly 
in her arms. Her free hand slipped under the band of his shorts, and traced 
a warm path through the crease of his ass. 

"Ohhh, just a sec!" The sturdy cotton hurt where it rubbed on his fat prick. 
He managed to slip his shorts down around an ankle, without really pulling 
loose from his mother's clinging arms. "There," Tim said with satisfaction, 
and put her hand back on his fat dick. 

Dizzily, still half drunk and exhausted, Helen let him arrange it all. She 
knew what she was doing was wicked but she couldn't really see the harm in 
it. He was so sweet and tender, he was her own dear little boy! She pumped 
on his cock again, and discovered her other hand had flown to its warm nest 
between his buttocks. She trailed her fingers up and down, squeezing the 
limp soft testicles, touching the bare space between his legs, and back to 
the tight little hole of his anus. She tickled the bumpy surface and pressed 
on it gently. 

"Yeah, yeah, Mom," he murmured. 

Smiling at the satisfaction in his voice, she pushed harder on the puckered 
opening. His sphincter muscles relaxed, and she inched her finger deeper 
into his clinging hot asshole. 

"Shee-itt!" The boy moaned and bucked, thrilled by the double play of his 
cock and his asshole. He felt excitement build on excitement, and knew he 
was close to cumming. Jerking off was nothing compared to this! 

Helen looked down, and that was a mistake. Instead of the soft tiny penis 
she'd been imagining, her son had a respectable hard-on. It wasn't as big as 
a man's, but it certainly was longer and harder than she'd thought. Somehow 
that made everything different. And she'd almost been ready to put his cock 
in her mouth! 

You could do that with a little kid, she thought muzzily, you could tease 
him and play with him,, even lick his little prick as a sort of game. But 
Tim's manhood was much too apparent. It would be-God, it'd be like incest! 

In fact, she amended her thought, it would be incest. 

She pulled her finger out of his ass, and flinched at the loud popping 
noise. It took all her will power to unclench her fingers from his surging 
penis, but she did it. 

"MOM!" The boy was outraged. 

"Oh, honey, this is getting too-I just can't!" 

"You don't love me! You don't care how my peter hurts!" He looked at her, 
childishly appealing, tears pricking his eyes. She couldn't withstand the 
pleading gaze. 

"All right, darling," she said wearily. "Just this once." 

Her mouth was so full of saliva she could hardly swallow enough to talk. 
Helen always suspected her love of giving head was perverse and not very 
nice, but she'd let herself do it more than once, both with Max and at the 
swap parties. She looked at the throbbing silky-skinned organ, so perfect, 
so hot and firm-and gave way to the dark impulses. 

She jammed her mouth down on his hot little dick, kissing and licking it, 
nibbling daintily at the shaft, working her way to the glistening ruby head. 
The pinhole on the crest oozed a pearly drop, simply irresistible! She 
lapped it up and the odd flavor stung her tongue, sending pangs of lust 
through her belly. 

Damn it, she just had to have it, not just the measly taste, but a burning 
mouthful! Letting out a moan that was almost a groan, she slurped his stiff 
dick in her mouth and began sucking it greedily and blissfully. Her cunt 
contracted and her cream flowed as heavily as her saliva. 

"Allllllll right!" Tim sank back against the pillows, almost crazy with 
delight. "Shee-it, Mom, you are something else!" He couldn't believe 
anything could possibly feel this great. He knew about blow-jobs, he'd heard 
the older boys brag about their girls going down on them. But, like eating 
pussy, it had sounded sort of funny to him. He'd wondered; what about the 
girl's teeth? It really seemed scarey to the boy. But now he began to see 
why it was so popular and why the guys raved about it. His mother's mouth 
was hot and wet, and she kept up a continual sucking which pulled and 
stretched his cock toward the back of her throat. This alone was delicious. 

And in addition, her wickedly fast tongue moved from sensitive spot to spot, 
keeping him in a frenzy of pleasure. His hips moved without conscious 
volition, bucking against her, feeding his cock stiffly into her mouth. Best 
of all, the harder he jabbed, the faster and more exciting her mouth and 
tongue! 

"Mmmmmmmmmmmm!" Helen felt a small explosion in her cunt and knew with 
surprised glee that she'd cum again, just from sucking him off! Her own 
joyous response made her determined to give her son just as much pleasure, 
and she reached again for his ass. Cramming her finger up his anus, so he 
jerked and squealed, she also felt his small balls plumping up tightly. He 
was ready to cum, the darling! Knowing it made her saliva flow hot and 
freely around his jerking rod. Oh yes, she'd make him happy! 

"Ooooooff! Hahhhhhhh!" Tim felt as if he'd been kicked in the stomach but 
oddly, it was a marvelous feeling. He squealed in delicious agony as the hot 
mouth continued to suck, draining each last sizzling drop from his spurting 
prick. He writhed blissfully until it was over, and his limp penis slipped 
over her lips. 

Helen laid her head on his sweat-damp belly. She'd done something awful, she 
knew, but it was too late to worry about it. "Awful, awful," she mumbled, 
but her mind said-awfully good! 

CHAPTER FOUR 

Sweet Jesus, what have I done? 

Max looked down at his twelve-year-old daughter, lying across his lap. Her 
rosebud mouth was stretched as far as it would go, stretched around the 
painfully huge erection. His tequila haze descended on him for moments at a 
time, and then he would manage to blink himself back to some kind of 
sobriety. And when he did-oh, when he did-oh, when he did!-he wished the 
blackness would come back and swallow him up! 

Her eyes were heavy with sleep, and her hands and mouth slackened. Poor 
little dumpling, she was trying so hard to stay awake and-how had she put 
it?-make her Daddy happy. His heart filled with love, overflowed with it. 
Ignoring his throbbing penis, he pulled away and picked her up gently. His 
fingers were clumsy as he buttoned her back into her pajamas and robe, but 
eventually it was done. Cradling her carefully in his arms, he carried Sally 
back to the hotel. 

He shoved the room door open with his foot, remembering as he did so that 
none of the rooms had keys. What was it the bartender said, some sort of 
joke? Yeah, he said if there weren't any keys to the territorial prison on 
the hill, why should a hotel need them? Some excuse. Anyhow, he'd gotten her 
back and lowered her into bed beside her mother. He sniffed the air warily. 
It must be his own sweat and sexuality he smelled. His hard-on died as he 
eased quietly into bed next to his son. Even the ache in his groin couldn't 
keep him awake long. 

Max's hangover gave him an excuse for his quiet mood in the morning, and he 
didn't notice that the other members of the family were also subdued. Over 
breakfast, they discussed their plans for the day. 

"Will you take me for a walk along the river, Daddy?" Her innocent brown 
eyes were fixed on his face, and he had to look away. He needed time to 
think things over. 

"Didn't anybody notice the sun's out?" He tried to be hearty and jolly, but 
his hand shook as he lifted the coffee cup. "Why don't we drive south a ways 
and find a camping spot? How about it, Helen? Sound okay to you?" 

She nodded morosely. She was all for moving on, or as she thought of it, 
getting away from the scene of the crime. 

Sally pouted. She hoped to stay at the hotel and get her father alone again, 
when she wasn't so tired. She figured it would be easier to do here than on 
an isolated beach. But when they talked it over, Tim cheerfully voted 
against her. He wanted a return engagement as much as she did, but being a 
boy, he hadn't worked out all the angles yet. "That's what we came for, 
isn't it?" he said. "To camp out?" 

They found the perfect beach within an hour's drive. A row of cabanas were 
flanked by campers and trailers of every size and style, but Tim's bright 
eyes spotted one which was isolated at the end of the beach. "I know why," 
Max said. "Nobody else wanted to drive through that ravine." 

"You can make it, Daddy!" 

And he did, though he hated to think of driving out again, over the loose 
sand. But it was perfect, he had to admit. Both the ravine and a slight rise 
of ground gave them as much privacy as if they had their own beach. Sally 
and her mother prepared lunch, while Max and Tim spread the ground sheets 
and sleeping bags. 

Sally was nothing if not persistent. "Come on, Daddy, let's go exploring!" 
Her eyes danced and she smiled beguilingly. 

"No way!" He tried to make a joke out of it. "Your mother and I are going to 
nurse our hangovers right here! You kids can go get acquainted with the 
other campers, if you want to." 

He didn't really relish time alone with Helen, with his uneasy conscience, 
so it was a relief to see her settle down for a nap. Max was disgusted to 
find he was just as homy as ever, and he wished his body would give him some 
peace. The only thing to do, he decided, was take a walk in the other 
direction. He'd find some privacy, maybe even go in the water, but jerk off 
somehow, some where. 

The sound of the waves on the sand calmed him. 

Somewhere, he'd taken a wrong turn. Maybe it all went back to the sex 
parties. He remembered how his voice trembled and his heart pounded when 
he'd first suggested it to Helen. He'd been afraid she wouldn't agree; and 
then, in a funny way, he was disappointed when she did. It hurt his pride 
and made him wonder if he hadn't been a satisfactory husband. But he had to 
say, they'd both enjoyed it, and they'd lost a lot of old-fashioned 
inhibitions. 

The one thing they'd been strong about was making sure the kids didn't know 
what their parents were up to. But now he began to suspect, Sally at least 
had a glimmering of an idea. She'd said something, he couldn't quite 
pinpoint it, but he knew she at least suspected. 

The trouble was, he thought moodily, he didn't know, couldn't make up his 
mind, what he expected of himself or his family, either. In theory he was 
all for sex education, and honesty, and openness. But in practice .. . well, 
he wasn't sure he could handle it. 

He found a nicely secluded cove and sank back in the shelter of a dune. 
Pulling his swim trunks down, he wrapped his fist around his stiff cock. 

What a drag this was! He fondled the bulging scarlet head, remembering how 
Sally had done her best to stuff it in her mouth and suck it. The darling 
little girl, what did she know about sex? He pumped the long white shaft, 
rubbing the cream-oozing glans, picturing his daughter playing with it, 
sucking it, licking it like an outsize ice cream cone. He'd have to show her 
how to hold it, how to tickle his nuts, and poke the tip of her tongue into 
the seeping eye. He saw her smiling, shrugging her slim shoulders until her 
perky tits bounced, and he reached for them, and ... panting heavily, Max 
lost himself in unbelievably erotic, incestuous dreams. 

"I cut my hand on a shell, Mom. Would you put a Bandaid on it?" Tim was 
afraid his excuse was too transparent; surely his mother would tell him to 
go do it himself. But to his hidden delight, she got up from the beach and 
followed him into the camper. 

Of course he had to go through with it, letting her pour alcohol on it and 
wrapping the bandage around the thin cut. "Sally found some girls to talk 
to, but there isn't anyone my age," he said, biding his time. 

When Helen turned to put the bandages back, her arms lifted to reach the 
upper cupboard, he pounced. 

"Gotcha, Mom!" he said playfully, reaching around and cupping big handfuls 
of plump breasts. He was so close to her warmth, he could rub his crotch 
suggestively against her bottom. "Ummmmmmmmm," he murmured, nuzzling her 
neck, "you smell so good, Mom!" 

Helen couldn't move for a moment. She'd been calm, almost icily so, until he 
touched her-and then her senses flamed with an intensity which scared her. 
"No, no," she said weakly. Then, as Tim pulled her even tighter and slipped 
his hand inside her halter, she tried to pull her thoughts together and 
ignore her busily creaming cunt. 

"Let go, honey," she said, tugging at his wrists. When she turned to face 
him, she was determined, and the sight of his boyish face gave her strength. 
She knew whatever already happened would never have taken place if she'd 
been looking into his clear brown eyes, as she was now. 

"Aw gee, Mom! Let's have some fun! Dad's gone and Sally won't be back for 
hours and-" He grabbed for her hips. 

"No, Timmy!" Her face was red with embarrassment. "Listen to me, son. What 
we did last night... well, it never should have happened. I'd been drinking, 
and, well, it was a terrible thing for me to do. It can't happen again. And 
I'm counting on you not to tell anyone, not anyone at all." 

She felt like a heroine for making that speech while his hands were still 
drawing her hips forward, and his panting breath fanned her face. 

"I don't think it was terrible," he said stubbornly. "And if you do it with 
other people, you and Dad both, I can't see why you can't do it with me, 
too!" 

"Oooooof!" Shocked, she sat down on the bunk. "What do you-Tim, what do you 
mean?" 

"You know what I mean! Those parties-" his hands were still on her, running 
up and down her hips and waist and under her arms. "You must think Sally and 
I are stupid!" 

Dizzily, she leaned back on the pillows. Then something warned her she'd 
better sit upright, and keep to the subject. "Tim, regardless of all that. 
We'll talk about the parties later. But this is-with you and me, child and 
parent, it's against the law. It's called incest, don't you understand?" 

"Phooey on those laws! Nobody can convince me it's wrong to kiss you like 
this." He planted his hps on hers and forced his tongue between her teeth. 
He wanted to keep the conversation away from the swap parties for two 
reasons: first, because he resented his mother's involvement with other men, 
and second, in order to avoid telling her the truth. He wasn't proud of 
having spied on his parents and their friends. It seemed now like a sneaky 
kind of thing to do. The temptation had been overwhelming, though they 
hadn't really seen everything. Even now it made him shiver to remember as 
much as they did see. 

He and Sally hardly knew how or why they noticed something different about 
their parents on those nights. There was an air of suppressed excitement 
permeating the house. Mom took forever getting ready, soaking in the tub, 
spraying on perfume, fixing her nails. And Dad bounced around like a kid, 
trying to hurry her up. 

They had to wait until the party was held at their own house. The kids were 
all sent to the movies, and then were supposed to spend the night with 
friends. Halfway through the show, Sally turned to her brother. Her eyes 
glittered. "Let's go home for a few minutes," she whispered. He understood 
immediately and nodded yes. They both knew where to crawl through the 
shrubbery by the family room, the one spot the draperies didn't quite meet. 

Helen pushed him back roughly. "How could you know?" she demanded. "Tell me 
the truth!" 

He blushed and lowered his head. "We sneaked back one time when we were 
supposed to be at the movies. We peeked in the family room." He gulped, 
hoping she wouldn't ask him any more. He could still remember the sick 
excitement he'd felt, at the sight of his best friend's mother, stark naked 
on her hands and knees, with a neighbor over her plump back, fucking her 
like a dog. 

"Oh, Lordie," she sighed. "I don't know what to say to you, honey, at your 
age. Your father and I... well, we believe in sexual freedom, and we wanted 
to try it. You can't understand how-no, you can't understand that. It didn't 
interfere with our marriage or our love for each other, believe me. And now 
we've given,it up, anyway." Damn it, she thought, these kids are not going 
to make me feel guilty! We did it, we enjoyed it, we weren't cheating on 
each other. How can you explain to a kid that marriages can go stale? That a 
woman who married as a virgin would want to see what other men look like, 
and act like, before she's too old to care? 

"Anyhow," she said, coming back to the present, "The one has nothing to do 
with the other. Incest-" 

"Incest is just a word, Mom." 

"Yes, and cheating's another word. Your father wouldn't like this at all. 
I've never gone behind his back." ' 

"Shit! You've got an argument for everything!" 

Tim turned around and stomped out. Helen let herself slump back on the bunk, 
her mind whirling. Maybe they were wrong to quit the swinging group. Her 
body cried out for sexual involvement and she was getting in over her head 
with her son. Max should have stayed sober last night, so they could get 
together in the camper. Come to think of it, where had he been? 

Life was just too much sometimes, she thought. It'd seemed so simple when 
she met Max. They'd made love on their second date and after that, she was 
simply Max's girl. She remembered their honeymoon, and the first couple 
years of the marriage. They still giggled about it, one time in particular, 
which seemed to sum up all the early years. 

They'd had company for dinner, two other young couples. Helen was proud of 
her ability to put a nice dinner on the table, and Max poured the wine and 
urged second helpings on the guests. After dinner, the six of them talked 
and played Monopoly. It was only about nine o'clock when Max passed some 
play money to his bride, and their hands brushed. The contact was electric. 
Their eyes met in complete understanding; how long before their guests went 
home? 

At eleven o'clock they stood in the doorway, carefully not touching while 
they heard the last of the goodbyes and the thank-you's. In fact, Max closed 
the door while one talkative wife was still saying what a good time she'd 
had. 

As the door closed, they fell toward each other and toward the floor. Her 
hands raced to get rid of skirt, blouse, bra, panties; while Max's clothes 
simply seemed to disappear. It couldn't have taken a minute and a half 
before he was mounting her, his hard prick where it'd been longing to be, 
her inner walls wet and slick and grasping. He thumbed her tits and kissed 
them, and kissed her mouth, and rammed his cock in and out as hard as he 
could go. She bucked back at him, her slim satiny hips a blur of movement. 
They came quickly, explosively, and only then could they get away from the 
closed door, up off the floor into the bedroom, laughing at the longest two 
hours they'd ever known. 

"Oh my," she sighed, her eyes misty. 

The camper door banged open, and she looked up. She saw Max reach behind and 
lock it, then skin off his sweat shirt and trunks. His eyes were fixed on 
her. Hers were glued to the huge pole that bobbled in front of him. Her 
juices seeped out endlessly, and she trembled with excitement as she tossed 
her clothes aside. "I was just thinking," she whispered, "of that night in 
our first apartment." 

"The Monopoly game?" 

"Yes, how'd you know!" She arranged herself more comfortably on the top of 
the sleeping bag, and widened the vee of her legs. Her eyes shone with 
anticipation as he climbed on top of her. 

He grinned. "Because I feel the same way right this minute." His pulsing 
fleshy rod slid between her labia, up into her tight steaming passage. "This 
was a long game, too," he said, and he began to fuck her. 

CHAPTER FIVE 

Everything looked brighter to Max the next morning. After a good sex session 
with Helen, a night spent under the stars and a couple of decent meals, he 
thought he could tackle anything. Anyhow, he hoped so. When he heard the 
news from her that the kids were on to their swinging parties, his first 
reaction had been to laugh. "Little devils," he said half admiringly. After 
all, they were growing up. The time for any sex education was now, before 
they grew any older. 

But he agreed with Helen that Sally had to be talked to, and somehow be 
convinced that was what was perfectly okay for her parents was not at all 
okay for her and her teenage friends. 

"Let's go for that walk today, honey," he said, turning to Sally and 
ruffling her hair playfully. 

"Ohhh yesss!" She sighed and rolled her eyes at him. Grownups were sure hard 
to understand. She just knew her Daddy sympathized with her problem, hadn't 
he helped her the other night, getting rid of her funny feelings with his 
tongue and hands? Now they could continue as they started! She rubbed up 
against him as they headed down the beach. 

It was a sparkling day, the waters of the Sea of Cortez a vivid blue, the 
shrimp boats sharply outlined against the protecting headland of the bay. 
Sally skipped along the beach collecting shells, while her father tried to 
formulate the words he would use. It wasn't going to be as easy as he 
thought, but there was no need to rush into it. Once the proper mood was 
established between them, perhaps Sally would ask questions and give him a 
lead on her thoughts. 

"Let's rest here a minute," he said when they'd reached the sheltering dunes 
where he'd jerked off the day before. 

"Okay. Daddy, I have to pee." She looked around doubtfully, not wanting to 
go over the hill into the rough underbrush. 

"Go ahead," he said indulgently. "More privacy here than in the camp." The 
campground had one dirty, smelly two-holer, open to the sky, but they all 
preferred to find a quiet place outdoors. 

"Hey, what are you doing?" he said. 

"Too hot for this," she said, pulling her sweat shirt over her head. 
Underneath she wore a bikini swim suit, two little scraps of red cloth. 

Max's cock began to stir. He'd never been able to understand why public 
beaches weren't scenes of mass rape, since the emergence of the bikini. 
Practically nothing covered, and the girls deliberately flaunting their 
sleek, near-naked bodies. He felt sorry for the boys and young men who had 
to watch, yet weren't supposed to touch. He sighed, thinking of his own 
Sally with the tops of her small boobs pushing out of the bra, her belly 
button flagrantly exposed, the rounds of her ass slashed only by a narrow 
piece of material. 

She looked around once more, then tugged the bikini bottom down her slim 
tanned legs. Shit, she wasn't more than six feet away from him! He didn't 
want to look at her, but how could he help it? She was squatting, exposing 
her pooched-out pussy, as unconcerned as in the privacy of the bathroom at 
home. Fascinated, he waited for the gush of urine. 

"... don't you think so, Daddy? Daddy! You're not listening!" She wriggled 
her hips as if to shake out the pee which refused to come. 

"Ummm, what, Sally? What'd you say?" He turned half away to hide the bump in 
the front of his swim trunks. 

"I just asked you if you and Mom were going to go on swinging and if you 
didn't think it was-Oh! There!" she exclaimed with satisfaction. A thin 
yellow stream shot from her pussy and puddled on the dusty ground. "Don't 
you have to go, too, Daddy? You look as if you do." 

"Oh! Yeah, I guess I do." At least it gave him an excuse to turn away. He 
went to the far end of the sheltered spot and faced the dune. There was no 
way in the world he could piss, but maybe he could kill his erection 
somehow. Think about his job, about the left rear tire which looked 
soft-about anything, in fact, except her desirable little body. 

"Oh, Daddy, it's so big!" He jumped, she was right at his elbow, her eyes 
wide. He crammed his cock back in, or tried to, but it wasn't working. 

"Put your pants back on, Sally," he ordered gruffly, seeing her in nothing 
but the skimpy red top. 

She ignored his words, her eyes growing still wider until he thought they'd 
pop out of her head. Helpless, he looked from her mesmerized face to his own 
rigid cock which seemed to swell until it filled his vision as well as hers. 
It stuck up in the air and out, like a bloated telephone pole, the blue 
veins as vivid as the waters of the gulf, the red-purple glans oozing cream. 
How could he expect her to ignore it, when he couldn't? 

Her rosy lips drooped open, her tongue shot out to lick them. Max just 
didn't know what to do! He remembered her chubby hand reaching out to touch 
it when she was three. But she wasn't three any more. He began to realize 
fully what he hadn't wanted to admit before. Physically she was a grown 
woman, or as close as made no difference. Twelve-year-old boys-she was 
almost thirteen!-had sexual fantasies, if he remembered rightly, and he knew 
he did. And so did girls, evidently. 

A memory flashed in his mind, something he hadn't thought of in years. There 
was a girl in his neighborhood, when he was a boy, who "did it." All the 
older boys said so. Now, in maturity, he realized there was a girl in every 
neighborhood who "did it" and initiated the boys. And he, Max, had been . .. 
what? Thirteen at the most, but with a head full of wild misinformation that 
came from grubby books passed from hand to hand, and the bragging lies of 
his contemporaries. He remembered finding the girl alone one evening, and 
how she listened to him and laughed. "Think you're pretty big, huh, kid?" 
She wouldn't let him fuck her, she got almost hysterical at the thought. He 
burned with resentment because she called him a baby, but she took pity on 
him finally, and sucked him off. He'd been terrified, seeing his precious 
little hard-on disappear into the lip-sticked loose mouth, but the hot 
thrills soon overcame the fear. 

Yeah, twelve, almost thirteen, wasn't really that young. He came back to 
himself with a start. He could see her reaching for his enormous cock, and 
he turned quickly away. But there was no place to go, unless he plunged into 
the water, which was really too cold for swimming. He went down on his knees 
in the soft sand and tried again to stuff the huge erection into his swim 
trunks. 

"Don't hide any more, Daddy!" Her little voice was plaintive. "Golly, I only 
want to see it!" 

He felt a deep sympathy for her, remembering his own boyhood. Poor kid, she 
was homy as hell. When she got on her knees beside him, he could even see 
her shiny, rosy clit peeping out from her fuzzy snatch. The inside of her 
legs was stained with the warmth of her juices. The pungent delicious flavor 
seemed to linger on his tongue. 

He wondered desperately if he should go down on her again. At least one of 
them would be put out of their misery. Oh, if she were any other little girl 
in the world! How he'd reach for her, throw her down on the warm sand, stick 
his big dong up where it belonged! Really, he was afraid to touch her 
because he might lose control. 

While he agonized, Sally acted, or tried to. She threw one leg over his 
body, pushing him backwards. 

"SALLY! QUIT IT!" he yelled. 

"Oh, please, Daddy, please!" The frantic little girl begged him. She 
squatted right down over him, clumsily trying to push her creaming cunt down 
on his dick. The bulbous throbbing head shoved against her labia, barely 
separating the fat hps, lodging half an inch inside. 

He wanted to laugh in a way, knowing the enormous organ couldn't possible 
fit in her tiny wet cunt mouth. Poor kid, she was doomed to frustration any 
way you looked at it. At the same time he wanted to grab her hips and shove, 
push the thick cudgel up inside. But he couldn't let her get away with this! 

He grabbed her and lifted her off, saying, "Now, Sally, baby, please!" 

"I just wanted to know how it felt," she moaned, "and it felt good! Why are 
you so mean to me, Daddy?" 

She was on the verge of tears, and he cuddled her in his arms. "Sweets, 
you're just a little girl still, no way you could get my cock in you! 
Besides, you're my daughter! A girl can't do it with her father." 

"I don't see why not," she sobbed in frustration. "Okay, okay, Dad, if you 
say so. But at least let me look at it. I won't try fucking again, I 
promise." 

He couldn't say no at that point. He looked around making sure they were 
still alone. Shit, how could he ever explain this to Helen? She might 
possibly, in time, forgive him for the scene in the camper. He'd been drunk, 
he wasn't accountable. But this, never! Still he lay back and let Sally's 
hands creep over his aching penis. He groaned, thinking she didn't know how 
much she was asking of him. 

Having gotten her way at least partially, Sally knelt next to him and stared 
with wet lips. She knew exactly what she was going to do next, and she 
didn't anticipate any problems with him. After all, hadn't he let her try 
the other night? She'd blamed herself ever since for falling asleep at the 
most exciting moment of her life. 

Max closed his eyes against the sun. When he felt her hot wet tongue on his 
aching dick, he was as she'd expected, too worn out to argue any more. 
Besides, he thought indulgently, her mouth is as small as her pussy. 

The sun flooded his body with warmth. He wondered idly what had become of 
his trunks, somewhere along the line he'd lost them. He let himself sink 
into the sheer physical comfort of the sunshine, the soft sand, the gently 
hypnotic tongue. She was licking it experimentally, from its base where the 
damp hairs caught in her teeth to the oozing thick head. He was drowsily 
satisfied to lie there and let her have her way. 

Sally sprawled out in the sand next to him, leaning up on one elbow. She 
took a minute to untie her bikini top with a free hand, and, moved by a 
wicked impulse, rubbed her tits back and forth across the hot meat. It gave 
her such a funny tingle, a sharp sting of pleasure that made her little tits 
stand up perkily. She wrapped her hands around the fat organ, hardly able to 
make her fingers meet. Her tongue daintily probed at the tip, pushing the 
pinhole, scooping up the delicious semen which oozed from it. 

Her father stirred, his hips moving back and forth, but he looked like he 
was falling asleep. She thought she'd lulled him into a more placid mood, 
and she went down on the pulsing hot cockhead, her pretty little mouth 
stretching. 

"Sally! What-?" No use to ask what she was doing, he knew perfectly well. 
And damn it, he couldn't stop her now! Neither could he simply lie there on 
his back, unmoving. The blood was pulsing hotly, demandingly through his 
rigid, tingling hard-on. 

"Ohhh, I give up," he groaned, promising himself to be gentle. After all, 
he'd done it once before. "Honey, do it like this." 

He was too tall for her and it was awkward, but he managed to arrange their 
bodies side by side, face to crotch. Sally found it easier because she could 
use her back muscles, too, to slide up and down on his cock. Her little 
mouth and throat were crammed full, and for a moment she couldn't breathe. 
She lay very still, trying to relax, and soon found she could take more and 
more of the hot meat inside her salivating mouth. It bumped on the back of 
her throat and stretched her hps very wide, but it was the pleasantest sort 
of discomfort. 

"Mmmrrrfff," she gurgled happily, feeling her father's warm breath on her 
curly pussy hairs. Then his tongue washed it warmly, slathering up and down 
the ragged pink slit. 

Max found the tiny indentation, the entrance o her cunt, with the point of 
his tongue. Her juices bubbled out of it, stinging his taste buds. He wanted 
her to cum in a hurry, he had to have her cum in a hurry. Otherwise he'd be 
jamming that hot, frantic dick of his into her mouth so hard and painfully, 
she'd never want sex again. He couldn't forgive himself for hurting her, but 
he couldn't take too much more, either. 

He tickled her sensitive vulva and then concentrated on her clit. If that 
didn't get her off, nothing would! Counting the seconds, knowing he was 
going to plunge into the gulf the minute she climaxed, cold water or not, he 
felt his testicles begin to tighten. She was sucking him greedily, sloppily, 
like a baby on the tit. Her juicy mouth had more power and suction than he'd 
thought possible. Gotta pull away, he told himself. Can't cum in her mouth! 

He nibbled at her clit, desperately wanting to make her cum quickly, and 
heard her moan. It was a miracle to him she could get any sounds out of that 
crammed-full mouth! Then her hips bucked furiously, ramming her pussy 
against his face. He shivered in happy gratification, because he'd done it. 
She was cumming, shaking all over, her hips jerking, her hands digging into 
his ass. Her cream flooded his mouth and smeared over his nose and chin. 

"Oh-oh! Oooooooffffff!" His own orgasm caught him by surprise. He forgot to 
pull back in the blinding pleasure that thundered through him. She was 
swallowing-she was SWALLOWING HIS CUM! He howled out his pleasure to the 
world, thrashing about in the flying sand. She sucked like a greedy puppy 
and he couldn't stop her, wouldn't have if he could. 

"Ohhhhhh, Daddy," she said, finally falling back on the beach. "Ohhh, Daddy, 
that was super wonderful. Wasn't it? Wasn't it fun?" 

And he had to say, "Yes, sweets, it was." 

She curled up in his arms. He looked down at her pretty face, so sweet and 
innocent, yet stained by male semen. Her own father's semen. 

What had he gotten himself into? Where do we go from here? And the practical 
answer was, right into the Sea of Cortez, icy cold or not. He could see them 
walking back to the camper, stained and smelly. Helen would take one look, 
one whiff, and- He shuddered. 

They splashed themselves quickly, shivering and laughing, only knee deep 
with little wavelets smacking against their legs. Max began to feel better 
about it all. Cold water and common sense, that's what he needed. 

They mopped themselves as dry as possible with their sweat shirts and sat in 
the sun until the goosebumps went away. Now is the time, Max said to 
himself. Now that I have, by whatever unfair trick, gained her confidence, I 
can talk to her. 

His arm around her for warmth, he began. "Your mother tells me you and Tim 
have turned into peeping toms." 

"That's not nice," she flashed. "How else are kids going to learn anything?" 

"Okay, okay. But now I have to know what you saw, and what you thought about 
it. And we have to discuss it, because ... well, because you and Tim are too 
young yet for that sort of thing." 

"Too young? That's all we hear! We're too old to be naughty, too young to 
have any fun." She was almost in tears again. 

"All right, all right," he said placatingly. "Tell me about it." He was 
hoping they hadn't seen much. He could make a case for nudity without too 
much strain, if that was all. 

"Ohhh, Daddy, it was so exciting! But we didn't really understand, you'll 
have to tell me." Her eyes shone, and the slim body cuddled nakedly in his 
arms grew warmer. Her breath quickening as she went on. 

"Well, first, Joey's mother was down on the floor with Mr. Bronson. And she 
had her hand on his cock ... like this...." 

Mesmerized, Max saw her little fingers curl around his limp, shriveled 
penis. As her grip tightened, blood surged into the treacherous organ. He 
was suddenly short of breath, his eyes were glazing, his heart pounded 
rapidly. 

Omigawd, he thought, I've got to get out of here right now! Hauling her to 
her feet, he mumbled, "Not now, Sally, not now." 

CHAPTER SIX 

"... and then he just practically dragged me all the way back to the 
camper!" Sally said indignantly. "Sometimes Daddy just doesn't make sense!" 

"Yeah, Mom, too." Tim considered what his sister had just told him, and it 
was somehow incomplete. Dad and Sally talked and "fooled around," whatever 
that meant. Then they went swimming and talked some more. Just when the 
conversation was most interesting, Pop blew his cool and dragged her back. 
He was sure she was leaving something out, but if he asked her direct, she'd 
deny it. 

He didn't really care, of course, because he had so much on his mind. His 
balls ached, he felt frustrated and just plain lousy. He couldn't think of 
anything but sex. He'd been eyeing a couple little girls down the beach, but 
they didn't turn him on, they were just too damn childish. Still, one of 
them had a pretty good set of knockers. Of course if he laid a hand on her, 
she'd probably scream bloody murder. Well, it would all be Mom's fault if he 
did! 

"And now he and Mom are drinking beer with those people and laughing it up! 
They don't care about us at all," Sally concluded gloomily. 

"Come on, cheer up, kid. Let's look for shells." 

They took a plastic bag and headed, without discussion, away from the other 
campers. Sally found a few shells, but her heart wasn't in it. Soon enough 
they came to the same sheltered nook where she'd had the heart-stopping 
experiences with her father, and just the sight of it made her desperately 
horny. She could just picture Dad standing there with his big thing poking 
out. 

She shot a glance at her brother. She couldn't help wondering if Tim looked 
the same way as her father, if he had a bunch of hair down there and if his 
cock stuck out all purplish. Being the candid unafraid child that she was, 
she decided to find out. 

"Tim? Tim, let's take our clothes off and, uh, swim." 

"It's too cold, silly. Too late in the day." 

"Sissy!" It had gotten chillier, that's why they'd both worn jeans and 
sweaters; but right in this sheltered pocket, the sun beat down warmly. "All 
right for you," she said childishly, "I'm going in anyway!" 

She unbuttoned her sweater slowly, and threw it and her tee shirt on the 
dune. When she began to unzip her jeans, Tim realized she meant it. Okay, he 
could do anything she could do! And it did seem warmer now than he'd 
thought. 

"Okay, okay. Last one in's a rotten egg!" 

In spite of his challenge, they undressed slowly, sneaking quick glances at 
each other. He'd never had any particular curiosity about his sister's body, 
although he'd covertly noticed when she began growing boobs. But with his 
new knowledge of the female body, his curiosity had grown. Pretending to 
have trouble with a knot in his sneaker, he crouched down and peered at her 
sideways. Just a kid, was his first reaction. No more kick to this than 
having a shower at the Y. 

Sally, too, was disappointed. When Tim finally got the stupid knot in his 
stupid tennie undone, and kicked the shoes off and dropped his pants, she 
expected to see an erect penis. Or at least to see something! But the little 
white worm dangling from her brother's crotch was a big letdown. He had 
hardly any hair, either, she thought critically. 

Tim didn't really want to go in the chilly gulf, he discovered. If he 
fiddled around long enough, maybe she'd get cold, too. She hardly had any 
flesh on her little fanny at all, and then he could back out gracefully. 

"I've gotta take a leak first," he said, looking around with a vague air. 

"Right there," Sally giggled, pointing. "That's where I peed this morning." 

He saw the trace of dampness and aimed his penis. "Weren't you with Dad?" 

"Well, sure." She giggled again. "He tried to pee too, but he couldn't go." 
She watched her brother, realizing that his slim cock was not as small as 
she'd supposed. Would it get hard and fat like her Dad's? She went closer, 
near enough so a few warm drops splattered on her legs. 

"Hey, watch out," he said angrily, still trying to puzzle it out. Did she 
pee in front of the Old Man? And did he take his dork out and wave it around 
in front of Sally? 

"Ummmm, you really did have to go," she said, still watching thoughtfully. 
"Can you keep it hard afterwards? It looks a lot bigger when you're 
pissing." 

While her brother's body and genitalia didn't turn her on at first, Sally 
began to get the now familiar warmth between her legs. It felt like 
something turning over in the pit of her belly, and then her little twat got 
moist and itchy. She wondered what he'd do if she reached out and grabbed 
his cock. Did boys his age like to play sex games? Sie didn't know. They 
whispered about it, and made jokes they wouldn't let her hear. So it was 
reasonable to suppose they liked some action, too. 

"Keep it hard?" Tim gave a final nonchalant shake to his organ, eyeing his 
sister's slim body with more interest. "Sure, I can make it hard if I want 
to. What do you know about it, anyway? You're just a kid." 

"I am not!" she said indignantly. "I can make it hard for you if you want me 
to! Should I do it, huh, Tim? Can I?" 

He shrugged, still keeping his cool. "If you wanna, go ahead. I don't mind." 

He didn't really believe it until his little sister dropped to her knees and 
grabbed his wilted penis, stroking it with a pleased look. She didn't really 
know how to make it hard, because her father just seemed to get an erection 
naturally. But she remembered how excited he'd gotten when she played with 
it and sucked it into her mouth. 

"Ooohhh, it's niiiiiccce!" she cooed happily, admiring the slim white look 
of it, and perfection of the little wrinkled point at the end. A thin blue 
vein wriggled the length of the shaft. It really didn't look like a worm at 
all, it looked sweet and pretty and cuddly. She squinted underneath and 
discovered his testicles were equally, nice, rosy pink and delicately 
ridged, with just a faint fuzzing of hair. 

Tim's knees trembled with excitement. He shuffled his feet farther apart for 
balance, and hoped desperately he'd get a good hard-on. He couldn't let his 
sister see him as anything but manly. Besides, it would be so much fun if... 
he didn't let himself finish the thought. Lust coiled in his belly and he 
felt his cock begin to stir. "See, he's getting hard already," he bragged. 

The two pairs of brown eyes watched, Sally with her face so close she could 
feel the heat of his body. His penis began to swell fatly. It lifted off his 
thigh, stiffened slightly in the air, took two further short motions upward, 
stiffened still more, swelled slightly. Sally licked her lips as the visibly 
growing organ waved its blue crooked vein at her, and rose even higher. 

"Gollleee!" she said in an awed voice. "You really do have a big one, Tim!" 
Not big like Dad's, she said silently, but plenty big enough for her at the 
moment. She was overcome with actually seeing it come erect and hard. 

"What makes it do that, Tim? I never saw anything like it before!" 

"I dunno," the boy answered. The strain of keeping cool and superior made 
his voice come out in a croak. 

Both kids were making rapid mental reassessments of the situation, each 
other, and the possibilities. Tim wondered how far he dared to go with his 
sister, because she wasn't very old, and he didn't know how girls felt about 
things. Would she suck it? He'd have to approach the idea carefully. He 
could just about imagine the scene if she ran squealing to her mother, 
saying, "Tim wants me to put his thing in my mouth!" That would make the 
shit hit the fan, all right! On the other hand, he wanted to exploit the 
moment as far as he could without upsetting or hurting her. 

Sally, the daredevil-yet-practical female, had leaped beyond him. A really 
marvelous idea had popped into her head. Dad said he couldn't fuck her-among 
other reasons-because she was too small down there. But you could turn that 
around and say it was because he was too big! Now Tim, on the other hand ... 
But would he? Or would he turn her down the way his father did, for 
mysterious reasons she couldn't understand? Her little cunt creamed heavily 
at the thought, her juices dripping onto the coarse sand. 

Nothing ventured, nothing gained. She opened her mouth as wide as it would 
go and sucked his hard cock in juicily. It felt so good, ticklish on her 
tongue, wet at the end, where his semen leaked out. It was warm and yummy, 
and it seemed to swell right inside her mouth! She sucked noisily, even 
while her brother bent his knees and collapsed on the beach next to her. 

"Holy shit!" Tim gasped. The dizzying pleasure took the stiffening out of 
his knees, he had to get down or fall down. He sank down next to her, 
moaning with the joy of the hot wet pressure around his stiff little dick. 

"No aren't you something, Sally," he marveled. He was so thrilled, he wanted 
to do the same for her. Switching his body around, he leaned up on an elbow 
and parted her slim tanned thighs. Remembering how he'd gone down on his 
mother, he slurped his tongue wetly over Sally's pink fat labia. Her juices 
tingled pleasantly on his tongue. He found the soft triangle of her clitoris 
and fastened his lips around it. It wasn't as red as Mom's, just a pretty 
pink. It swelled fatly as he licked it. 

Sally was ecstatic. The more he ate her, the more she wanted to eat him. The 
more frequently he ran his tongue over her clit, the more she sucked and ran 
her tongue over the scarlet head. When she couldn't stand it any more 
because the pleasure was so great, she stopped sucking him and then he would 
stop, too. She'd begin sucking him again, until it was his turn to stop and 
breathe heavily. 

Even his panting breath excited her, warmly teasing her sensitive twat. 

"Golly, Tim, isn't this fun?" she gasped during one brief interval of 
catching her breath. "I could suck you all day!" 

"Shit yes," he said happily, and stuck his face again into that warm wet 
nest. He felt even freer than with his mother, and explored her mysterious 
snatch. His tongue found the small indentation, the mouth of her womb, and 
pressured it hotly. The little girl moaned and writhed when he did it, so he 
decided he'd found the right place. He remembered bis mother's finger in his 
ass, how good it'd felt, so he tried it with Sally. He pulled the taut 
little cheeks apart and slid a finger between, pushing on the tiny puckered 
hole. 

"Oh! Tim, what are you doing?" she squealed. 

"It's okay, just relax." His finger slid in as she obediently let her 
muscles loosen. He twirled the finger around, probing the humid, warm 
passage. Sally moaned deliriously, thrilled with the new pleasure. 

"HAH! EEEEEE!" She let go of his cock suddenly and rolled in the sand, 
squealing and writhing. The finger in her asshole triggered her orgasm. Tim 
watched in fascination. She had a flush over her little tits and flat belly, 
as if she had measles. Her body vibrated with her spasms. 

She settled back in a moment or two. "Your turn now, Tim," she promised. He 
patted her ass affectionately as she slipped his aching cock into her mouth 
again. What a girl! He angled her topmost leg higher and stared into her 
steamy depths. The hole to her cunt wasn't really visible, but when he 
prodded it with a finger, he could feel it. The flesh inside there was shiny 
and scarlet and ragged-looking. The invisible entrance not only took in his 
finger, but closed tightly around it. He couldn't push very far so he went 
back to licking and tonguing, seeing by her clit that she was excited again. 

His balls tightened and sent urgent messages down the shaft of his dick to 
the swollen head. An instant later he could feel the hot charging of his 
overheated nuts, as his cock jerked in her mouth and began to spew out its 
steamy load. 

"Shit, shit, I'm cumming!" he bellowed. "Ooooooohhhhhh! I'M 
COMMMMMMIIIIII-NNNNNNGGGGGG!" The climax thundered through him and it was 
twice as thrilling because he could feel her throat and mouth and tongue 
working on him all the time. She swallowed frantically, her cheeks hollowing 
and then puffing out, then hollowing again. 

The two satisfied youngsters lay side by side in complete satisfaction. 
Sally let handfuls of sand dribble slowly through her fingers, onto her 
brother's tanned leg, liking the way the soft golden hairs separated the 
sand into grains. 

"Wasn't that fun?" she yawned. 

"Sure was." The best part, he thought, was they could do it together any 
time. He hadn't heard any of that crap from his sister about. .. what was 
the word again? Incest, or whatever. As he'd told his mother, it was only a 
word. 

"You really know how to eat me," she said shyly. 

"You aren't so bad yourself." He knew it wasn't the first time for Sally, 
any more than it was for him, but he didn't want to go into it. Let her keep 
her secrets; he'd keep his. 

"Tim?" She raised up on an elbow. "Have you ever .. .you know, have you ever 
really done it?" 

"Fucked, you mean?" He thought of lying, and decided not to. "No. I haven't 
even, uh, gotten in a girl's pants very often." 

"Well, why don't we do it?" 

"Hmmmmm. I dunno. Do you think we could?" The idea was certainly attractive, 
but he was a little frightened. 

"Sure we can. Why not?" Then she looked at his limp organ and giggled. "I'd 
have to make you hard again first, if you could stand that!" 

"I guess I could bear it," he grinned, thinking, why not? He'd never have a 
better opportunity. Of course it was only his sister, only little Sally, not 
like scoring with one of the girls at school. But don't knock it, he 
reminded himself. He'd have a lot better luck with the girls later, if he 
knew what he were doing. 

Moving on her knees, Sally reached out eagerly for his limp prick. It was so 
exciting to watch it and feel it when it grew long and hard! The 
transformation gave her a feeling of adult power. She sucked his soft meat 
all the way inside her mouth. Just doing that made her all excited! She 
began to suck him hard and fast. 

"Uhhhhhh!" Tim moaned, wriggling his body. Her mouth was so hot and wet and 
fleshy! He arched his back and pressed toward her. "You really can do it, 
Sal!" 

The miracle happened again-his penis swelled and stretched deep into her 
throat. She felt her mouth fill with saliva and gurgled happily as she ran 
her tongue along the blue vein. She really liked the feeling of his hot meat 
in her mouth, the odd slightly salty taste, not as strong as her Dad's but 
still delicious. Yes, I could really do this all day, she thought dreamily. 
She stroked and petted his balls, feeling them grow full and tight, too. 
Men's bodies were really marvelous! She wrapped a hand around each testicle, 
molding them in her palms. 

"That's the trick, Salr" he grinned. "Yeah, kiddo, play with me like that! 
Yeahhhh!" 

Sally's slim body writhed like a snake. Her fuzzy snatch was damp and 
glistening with her secretions, and she rubbed her thighs together. The 
slippery movement only excited her more. But now was the time, and she 
pulled back so his throbbing prick plopped out of her mouth. 

"Okay, Tim, let's fuck." Her breath came with a whistle and her eyes were 
glazing with lust. She turned over, crouching on elbows and knees, her slim 
body swaying. Her little tits poked out from her chest, their nipples pinkly 
extended. 

He stared at her for a second, confused at what she was doing. Then he 
remembered: the time when they peeked at the swap party, the man had mounted 
the woman from behind, dog-fashion. It would have made him laugh, except for 
hurting his sister's feelings, and but for the lust that thickened his 
throat. 

Tim had at least a small bit of knowledge of human sexuality. He'd seen the 
pictures the kids passed from hand to hand, and he'd even managed to sneak 
into an adult movie one time. Of course the usher discovered him and threw 
him out, but not before his ideas were confirmed. The man went on top, most 
of the time. The coupling he and Sally saw was weird and perverse, he was 
sure of that. In fact, it was what had been the most exciting in the scene. 
But he didn't think he could cope with that first time. Looking between his 
sister's legs, he could see her pussy but the angle looked impossible. 

"Not that way, honey," he said kindly. Repositioning her on her back, he 
started to explain. "This is the way most people-oh, hell. I'll show you." 
He couldn't go into any long explanation with his dong swaying in front of 
him, bobbing up against his belly. 

Sally didn't care, as long as they did it they could be standing on their 
heads. She stretched her legs wide, while he squatted in between them. Tim 
placed the scarlet head of his cock in what he hoped was the right position. 
It was awkward and he stared a moment, baffled. Then with a smile he swung 
his sister's legs up on his shoulders. He'd fit in much better that way. 

"Oh, Tim, are we really going to do it?" she sighed happily. 

"We sure as shit are," he answered, hoping to make it come true. Damn it, he 
just had to do it, and do it right! 

CHAPTER SEVEN 

"Come on, Tim, do it! Put your cock inside me!" Sally said impatiently. 

"I'm doing it, I'm doing it!" He had it poised at the right spot and hunched 
forward. The round head plowed in a short distance and stopped, smack up 
against a mysterious barrier. 

"Hey, what's that?" He was shivering with excitement and frustration. He 
pulled out and pushed in again, and was stopped dead at the same place. "It 
just won't go in! You're too tiny, I guess." He sighed unhappily. 

"Oh!" Sally's hands flew to her mouth. "I forgot, they told us all about it 
in hygiene class. There's a-whatchamacallit-a hymen! It's a kind of membrane 
in there." She giggled. "The teacher told us to be very careful not to break 
it, or some stuff like that." 

Now Tim remembered, too. It was there to prove his sister was a virgin, and 
if he were a nicer guy, he'd quit right then and let her continue to be one. 
Only, his cock was so hot and tight, his balls so superfull! "I'll have to 
break it," he warned her. 

"Yeah, so do it," she urged. "You push down, Tim, and I'll push back. Ready? 
One, two, three-GO!" 

Re rammed forward with all his young strength, even though it squeezed and 
pinched his tender meat. At the same time Sally slammed her pussy forward, 
using her whole body, scrabbling at the sand with her hands for purchase. 
Something gave way. 

"Owwwwwww!" Sally roared. A quick,.sharp pain stabbed through her. 

To Tim, it was the release from pain, and a sudden burst of pleasure. He 
rolled his eyes skyward, savoring the way his cock was deliciously buried in 
her hot, tight, wet pussy passage. "Hot spit," he said happily. 

Sally made a face and gritted her teeth. But the pain only lasted a second 
and she began to feel the glow from her cunt spreading out through her. Even 
her fingers and toes tingled with the novel pleasure. She could feel her 
narrow sheath relax around his hot meat, and the profusion of juices oiling 
his way. 

"Wow, golleeee! It feels good already," she sighed. "Doesn't it, Tim? 
Doesn't it feel great?" 

"Sure does," he laughed. "This is something like it, Sal." The sun shone 
brightly down, the waves lapped unendingly at the shore, a mild breeze 
curled around his head. He'd never felt better in his life. 

He began to move experimentally, jabbing her with his stiff prick in the 
yielding sides of her vagina. Then he settled down into a straightaway 
fucking motion, more or less evenly tempoed. Sally was working hard, he 
saw-too hard. Her white teeth were clamped onto her lower lip, and her face 
looked serious and involved. But she picked up his movement, smacking back 
at him, her strong young back sending her surging forward so her clit made 
delicious contact with his pelvic bone. Then her mouth loosened and a wide 
happy smile crept over it. 

"I could go on doing this all day," she said dreamily, and her brother 
laughed because that was what she said about everything. If Mom and Dad only 
knew, he thought, but his hard knot of anger at his mother dissolved and 
melted way. Dad would just about kill him though, if he knew he was fucking 
Sally.... 

But Max for a change didn't have his daughter on his mind. He'd gone into 
town for groceries and some booze, and once it was locked into the camper he 
decided to stop at the hotel for a quick drink. He couldn't get little 
Rosalia out of his mind, couldn't decide if he'd been smart or dumb. He 
didn't really think she'd be hanging around the bar, but if she did, and he 
could see her by daylight, maybe he'd know. It was entirely possible that 
she'd look a tired twenty-four, like a real hooker, cheap and tough. On the 
other hand, if she were still as young and desirable, as fresh and tiny as 
he'd thought, well... he patted the pocket where he carried his billfold. 
They weren't spending much when they camped out. Maybe he'd just invest in a 
little teenage cooze. 

Rosalia wasn't there. He had a beer, and bought the bartender a drink. Then 
Pedro bought him one. 

"But, senor, not cerveza, not beer-oh, no! Have you tried our own liqueur? 
It's called Damiana and it is very, very special. Sip it as you would a 
brandy." 

The almost colorless liquid had a strange but interesting scent and flavor. 
It lingered on the tongue, but it was elusive, because he'd never tasted 
anything quite like it before. 

"Let's have another one, Pedro. What's it made of?" 

"A plant which only grows here in Baja, nowhere else in the entire world, 
senor! People believe it is a-how you say it? Afrodisiaco, you understand?" 

"Aphrodisiac, sure. Gives you the hots, makes you sexy, right" 

"Correcto!" 

At least this was getting the conversation turned in the right direction. 
"Good thing I wasn't drinking it the other night when that Rosalia was 
here," he said casually. 

"Ah, yes, what a pity she's left." 

So that was that. But he had a few more drinks and got into an interesting 
conversation. Pedro told him that the local females were either good girls, 
in which case there was nothing doing, or else they were whores-no in 
between. "Not like the gringo ladies," he grinned. He had a few stories to 
tell about American women who visited expressly in order to "make the love" 
with almost any Mexican who could be dragged off to a bedroom. True or not, 
they were good tales to tell the boys when he got back to the shop. 

But Pedro's favorite story, which Max wasn't sure he believed, was about the 
special treat laid on for sportsmen in the days before the road came this 
far. "There were no women, you understand, senor. But these rich men with 
their big fishing boats, they wanted some fun, anyhow." 

For two hundred pesos, it seemed, a local man would sacrifice a large goose. 
"They fuck it in the part that lays the eggs, comprendes?" Pedro rolled his 
eyes and laughed. "The goose, she is very, very tight, and very warm!" 

"No shit?" 

"And for another two hundred pesos, they keel the goose!" 

"Huh?" 

"Yes, yessss! When the man, he is about cum, verdad? And the goose, when she 
dies... well, they tell me the spasms they are very exciting!" 

Max thought about that for a while. When he left, a little drunk, he stopped 
by the liquor store and bought a bottle of brandy and two of the 

Damiana liqueur. He found a thermos bottle top in the camper and poured in a 
healthy slug of brandy, and drove back to the beach with it balanced on the 
open glove compartment door. It was good brandy, it went down smoothly. He 
had a buzz on, and he had a hard-on, too. It felt good; he hoped to hell he 
could keep it and use it to some good. If the kids were swimming or playing 
ball, and Helen was alone, he'd get her to try the Damiana. He didn't want 
to wait until night, he wanted to fuck her right now. Give her a shooter or 
two of Damiana and see if it lived up to its reputation. 

Helen was horny too, and irritated because Max stayed away so long. Damn 
him, he'd probably picked up on that little teenage whore and was having 
himself a ball! 

The kids had disappeared, too. She walked down the line of campers, stopping 
now and again to exchange a few words with other Americans. Sally and Tim 
weren't anywhere in sight. She wasn't really worried, they were sensible 
kids, but it added to her irritation. They knew better than this, they knew 
they should check in and let her know where they were headed. Especially in 
a strange place, a foreign country. Her whole family was being extremely 
selfish and thoughtless, and her perpetual condition of horniness didn't 
help her mood. 

They must have gone down the beach in the other direction, south. Maybe they 
were shelling again. She threaded her way back through the crowds of little 
kids and dogs, past all the other campers, past her own isolated cabana, 
toward the deserted stretch of beach. 

She hoped to hell they were together. Tim was reliable; he was old enough to 
have a little freedom. But Sally was a different story. Her age, and she was 
a girl-Helen just hoped she'd find the kids together. 

As a matter of fact, they were very much together. 

"Now let's do it like Mrs. Watshername," Sally said eagerly. "You know, like 
dogs do it." She thought fucking was the most delightful new game two people 
could play. And they both won! 

"Hey, kiddo," Tim said, laughing, "how's about a little rest period, huh?" 
He lay back on the sand and looked at her fondly. For a girl, for a sister, 
she was all right. But she'd just about drained him and he knew it'd be a 
while before he could get it up again. 

"Oh, sure, Tim." She plopped down beside him, digging her toes in the sand. 
"This is the best vacation I ever, ever had." 

Tim patted her hip. "Listen, kid, you've got goosebumps all over you. We'd 
better get dressed and head back before they send out a search party." 

Sally yawned. "It is getting chilly," she admitted. "But Tim, we can do this 
again tomorrow, can't we? And the day after that, and the-" 

"Yes, and the day after that," he interrupted. He pulled on his sweat shirt 
and began to hunt for his shorts and jeans. 

Sally was just fastening the fly of her jeans when her mother came around 
the dune. Her hands flew to cover her little bare tits. She shot a glance at 
her brother, who with his back turned, was struggling into his pants. Sand 
flew as he shook a leg, and then drew the jeans on. 

"Sally! Tim!" Helen gasped, not quite taking it all in. They must have been 
swimming, of course. But there were no swim suits, no towels. Most damning 
of all, there was no water on either of them. Sally's mop of hair had sand 
and bits of twigs in it, but not a trace of moisture. 

She gulped, and said again: 'TIM!" 

He wheeled around, and guilt was written on his face. "Oh, hi, Mom," he said 
lamely. 

"WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING?" 

Sally was frozen with shock. Her mother was furious-the child had never seen 
her so angry before. It was written on her face. She ignored Sally, but 
glared at her son as if she could kill him happily. Tim straightened up and 
stared defiantly back. 

"Oh golly," Sally muttered. She was terrified, and all she could think of to 
do was run. Maybe Tim could handle Mom. In any case, she had to get out of 
there! She didn't feel the least bit guilty but she couldn't face the storm 
of her mother's anger. Forgetting she was only half dressed, she dodged 
around Helen and took to her heels. Sand spurted under her bare feet as she 
ran full speed toward the camp ground. 

"Don't get so excited, Mom," Tim drawled. "You're making a big thing out of 
... nothing." 

"But what were you doing?" 

He forgot his fear as he faced her, because she looked so pretty and 
desirable. In the first shock she'd gone white, but the color flooded back 
into her face. Her eyes sparkled with angry frustration. Her chest heaved, 
making her boobs push against her blouse and he could even see her nipples 
fluttering under the cloth. 

"You're not wearing a bra, Mom," he marveled. It was just plain ridiculous, 
but in spite of his heavy sex scene with Sally, he was physically stirred 
again. 

"Huh? Bra?" She looked down at herself, and turned even redder. "No, I'm not 
but-Tim! Don't change the subject!" 

"I'm sorry, Mom, it's just that you look so pretty when you're mad." His 
eyes lingered on the curves of her breasts. 

In spite of herself, she felt her anger melt away. She never had been able 
to resist her son, Max had told her time and again that she spoiled him. 
She'd always answered that it could not be hurting him, because look what a 
nice boy he was. Now she felt the same resistance tugging at her will, when 
he stepped closer and put out a hand to her blouse. 

"I just can't help it, Mom, you've got such beautiful knockers," he said 
sincerely, his fingers closing around the warm resilient flesh. 
"Ummmmmmmmmm! They're so soft and pretty!" 

"Now you stop it," she said, half laughing. "I want you to tell me exactly 
what you and your sister were up to. Have you been-Tim, look at me! Have you 
been messing around with her?" 

"Uh, messing around? Yeah, I guess you could say so." He squeezed her boob 
and rubbed his thumb over a nipple. "If she gets tits like yours, Mom, a lot 
of guys are going to start messing around." 

Helen felt helpless. She didn't know what to say to the kids, especially 
since they were aware of her own swinging activity. Her moral ground was 
shaky indeed, especially when she didn't have the strength to slap Tim's 
hand away. 

"Listen, hon, Sally's still a little girl! You wouldn't do anything to hurt 
her, would you?" 

"I sure wouldn't," he said fervently, thinking that his sister was far from 
hurt by what had occurred. "I promise you, Mom." He thought a minute and 
then added, "But you're not a little girl. We wouldn't hurt each other, 
would we?" 

"Tim, Tim. I'm so confused," she moaned. Her legs were trembling with shock, 
and she sank to the beach. "But you and me, that's not the point. We were 
talking about Sally." 

Tim sprawled beside her. He knew the worst was over, and if he didn't 
succeed in what he was trying to do, at least he'd managed to get her past 
the worst of her temper. His hand grasped her smooth thigh and slid up under 
her skirt. 

"Damn it, Tim, cut that out! Did you already forget what I told you?" 

"I didn't forget anything! I didn't forget how you look naked, and how I 
kissed your pussy, and how you sucked me off when I was so horny." He 
paused, wanting to put it just right. "You think it's easy for a kid? And if 
his own mother won't help him out..." He looked down pointedly at the bulge 
in his crotch. 

He wanted to hint, very delicately, that there was no length a boy might go 
to if he were sexually frustrated, even to having sexual connection with his 
little sister. He didn't want to come right out and say it, and he wisely 
thought his mother didn't really want to hear it either. 

Helen knew she'd been outsmarted. Damn, why couldn't she have had a stupid 
son instead of this-this teenage lawyer! She didn't want to think he'd been 
corrupting little Sally, she was not even going to let herself think it, and 
Tim knew it. 

"I don't know," she said wearily. "Give me a hand up, Tim, and let's go back 
to the camper. I guess I'll have to talk to your father about all this." 

Tim pulled her to her feet and forward, his hands sliding up under her 
skirt. Her skin was warm and silky, and he pushed his fingers under the 
bands of her panties. He knew she wouldn't speak to Dad-how could she? He 
felt the dampness spreading from her pussy and his dick gave a bound. 

"Oh Mom," he said, "growing up is so hard!" 

She moaned as he tightened his grip on her and rubbed her famished dripping 
pussy. She never could say no to Tim. 

CHAPTER EIGHT 

Max pulled the camper into position and looked around. If his family was 
across the ravine with the crowd, he wasn't about to chase them. Getting the 
big vehicle through the loose sand and across the dip took too much out of 
him. Besides, he was beginning to feel his drinks. 

He decided to take a nap. He'd hardly gotten snuggled down into the bunk 
when the door opened. He looked up groggily. 

"Hi, Sally. SALLY! Where are the rest of your clothes? What are you doing 
running around like that?" 

"Sally, Sally, that's all I hear," she grumbled. "Move over, Dad, I'm cold." 
She slipped under the blanket with him. 

He pulled her up to his chest, feeling her shiver. Whatever the problem, he 
couldn't keep his mind on it, he was far too sleepy. His eyelids dropped. 

He was vaguely aware of his daughter wriggling around, out of the covers and 
then returning. 

"Gotta go to sleep," he mumbled. 

"That's okay, Daddy, I won't bother you," she said sweetly. Her throat was 
dry from running, and she'd spotted a tumbler of fragrant liquid standing by 
the bunk. It was the Damiana he'd poured for Helen. Sally tasted it. It 
burned and made a hot ball in her tummy, but she liked it. She kept on 
sipping until the glass was empty. 

Max had stripped to his undershorts, along with pouring the potent liqueur, 
in anticipation of Helen's return. When he felt his daughter snuggle against 
his back, wrapping herself spoon-fashion around him, he thought gratefully 
that he was too tight and sleepy to become roused. All the same her warm 
belly on his back and her legs and tits pressed against him gave him a 
comfortable pleasure. He drifted off to sleep. 

"Ouch!" he said moments later, looking up groggily. "That happens to be 
fastened to my chest, young lady!" She was pulling on tufts of chest hair. 

"Sorry, Daddy," she said cheerfully. "Go back to sleep." 

The sleep that washed over him was full of erotic dreams. The pretty little 
Rosalia was kneeling before him, telling him how much she loved his cock. 
She pumped the long white shaft and rubbed the cream-oozing glans. Her big 
black eyes rolled up at him, her eyelashes dark on her creamy olive skin. 
She licked her lips as she looked at his stiff-standing cock, and though she 
didn't say anything, he could read it on her face. She really loved his 
dick, wanted to play with .it, suck it, put out her tongue and taste it. His 
penis was rock hard, fully erect. The foreskin had become a roll of tissue 
around the base of the flaming scarlet head. 

"You want to suck, fuck, go 'round the world?" she cooed in her lilting 
Spanish accent. "Whatever you want, I want, too." 

Max moved luxuriously in his sleep, glad that he'd finally given in to the 
lascivious little girl. Somehow he knew he didn't have to pay her as other 
men did, she was doing this for love-love of his huge throbbing, hot 
uncircumcised cock. 

His penis kept changing its angle, rising and falling slightly. Rosalia 
cupped his testes with one hand, grasping the shaft with the other. Her 
tongue darted out to taste it, to lick off the drop of semen standing on the 
tip. 

She was such a tease! She tickled his balls, ran her tongue down the thick 
blue vein on the shaft, put her red pretty hps around his aching cockhead, 
and then pulled away, laughing. 

"You want it," she whispered seductively. "You want Rosalia to suck your 
cock? How you say, give you head? Tell me, baby!" 

"Yes! I want it," he mumbled. "You little cock teaser, do it to me!" 

She laughed again, but her mouth was flooded with saliva so it burbled on 
her lips. She couldn't pretend any more, couldn't keep on teasing him. Her 
dripping mouth closed over his cock. Her fingers cupped his balls, one in 
the palm of each hand. 

"Arrrrrrrggghhh," he growled. 

A giggle and a childish voice penetrated his dreams. "You make such funny 
noises, Daddy!" 

He came awake and discovered that his daughter was playing with his cock. 

"Damn it, Sally! What are you doing?" It was an asinine question, he had to 
admit. What she was doing was holding his penis in one hand while she 
excited it with the other. She'd pulled back the wrinkled foreskin and 
exposed the sensitive head. Her fingers trailed over the eye, smearing slick 
dampness around. No wonder he had such sexy dreams! 

"I just, uh, I feel safer holding onto you," she said plaintively. "But I'm 
sorry I woke you up." 

Safer? His sozzled brain couldn't cope with that. He lay there quietly, not 
objecting when she ran her fingers over his hairy balls and planted wet 
kisses on the back of his neck. He'd gotten himself into this situation, it 
wasn't Sally's fault. And it did feel nice to have her petting his balls and 
cock, and snuggling up so warmly to his back. 

It was all Helen's fault, he thought unreasonably. Why was she not here when 
he needed her? When he'd even gone to the trouble of getting the aphrodisiac 
liqueur and, his eyes went to the empty glass. 

"Sally, there was a glassful here-" 

"I drank it, Daddy. I was cold. It sure made me feel nice and warm, I like 
it! What is it?" 

"Never mind," he thought resignedly. No wonder the little girl was so 
excited and uninhibited! Even if it really didn't turn you on, she wasn't 
used to drinking booze. 

"See, I did it!" Sally chortled happily. "I made you all nice and hard, 
Dad!" 

As if he didn't know it! He was in a state of full tumescence, just as he'd 
dreamed of being. But it wasn't any little black-eyed whore who'd done it, 
but his own sweet innocent daughter. Now he knew he should get up and make 
Sally get dressed, but oh Lord, it felt so good! Just for a minute, he told 
himself, while she ran her hands up and down the thickened staff. 

"It's so big," she sighed. "Bigger than... I'd forgotten how big it got." 
He'd hear about her and Tim soon enough; she sensed this was not the time to 
tell him. 

What Sally couldn't figure out was why grownups weren't fucking all the 
time. Of course they had to do things like go to work, and prepare meals, 
and so on. But how could Mom and Dad sit evening after evening watching some 
stupid television show, when they could be .enjoying this delightful 
pastime? Or even if they did watch TV, couldn't they be naked and in one 
chair, and playing with each other's bodies? It was one more unexplainable 
factor about becoming adult. In fact, when she considered it seriously, she 
wished she didn't have to grow up any more than she was, not if it meant 
acting proper and not holding each other while naked when you wanted to. 

She was quite sure she'd want to, all the time. After all, she'd spent the 
whole afternoon making love with her brother, and here she was still hot and 
horny! 

"What if your mother comes in," he said in a wishywashy kind of way. 

"Ummmmm. She's somewhere with Tim." At least she hoped to God Tim was 
keeping her occupied, smoothing her down. He always did it so we.., she was 
happy to leave him to it. 

Daddy was almost as excited as she was, maybe more. His dumb, grown-up 
attitude was weakening. She could feel his enormous organ twitch in her 
hands, so no matter what he said she knew what he really wanted to do. 

And she wanted the same thing, and this time she meant to have it. She was 
sure her little cunt was stretched out to twice the size it'd been the day 
before. But she had no way of telling him about it, she'd simply have to 
demonstrate. 

"Well, settle down and let me sleep," he grumbled. If he had any sense he'd 
throw her out of here, or get up himself and go out into the sane world, 
surround himself with other people. But his inner war, between what he 
thought he should do and what he really wanted to do, left him immobilized 
somewhere in the middle. His balls were ready to burst, his bloated cock was 
hot and throbbing. He wanted to ram it into her, to roll her over and force 
those delicate legs apart and separate the lips of her pussy with his 
fingers, and-but this was insanity! She was a virginal girl, not yet 
thirteen years old! She was his daughter,! 

"I'm sorry, Daddy, to keep on bothering you. But I feel so funny again. You 
know, like I felt the other night?" When he didn't answer, she went on to 
explain helpfully. "Do you remember, Daddy, the night we stayed in the 
hotel? And you and I came out to the camper? I explained how I felt funny 
down here." She took his hand and twisted it back, and in between her legs. 

Remorse swept over him. Of course he remembered even if he wished he could 
forget. She was suffering, she was horny, she didn't understand. Her little 
twat was hot and wet. Maybe he'd better play with her one more time, kiss 
her pussy, lick her little bud, so she could relax. It was no kind of final 
answer, but it was the best he could do for her at the moment. 

"Poor little girl!" He turned on the narrow bunk and pulled the covers back. 
She'd wriggled out of her jeans, all she'd been wearing. He didn't have to 
spread her legs, she'd done it herself. Her lightly fuzzed pussy shoved 
itself onto his hand. 

"Ohhhh, Daddy, that feels so good," she murmured as his hand stroked the 
inside of her fat pussy lips, and gently rubbed her clit. But she knew this 
wasn't enough, not any more. With a quick movement, she pulled away and 
reversed herself. 

"It needs to be kissed," she said. "And besides, this time I want to make 
you feel better, too." 

Max suspended thought when he smelled and felt the juicy young pussy on his 
face. His lips brushed against the tiny curls of her bush and his tongue 
flicked against the firm bud poking out of her slit. When she moaned her 
pleasure, he lapped harder, his tongue wiping the steamy entry and vibrating 
rapidly on her upraised clit. 

She toyed with his cock, not ready yet to suck it. She'd already learned it 
was better sometimes to wait, to take turns, and at the same time keep her 
partner aroused. While his tongue snaked deliciously through her hot pink 
folds, hers slithered along the papery-skinned fat shaft of his cock. She 
mewled and jammed her face tight against him, trying to tell him wordlessly 
that she wanted more than she had. The little twitchings of her hips and 
fluttering of her labia were encouragement for him to penetrate her cunt, 
and her message got through. 

Of course Max was confused. His tongue pushed at the small wet indentation 
just as it had before, but this time actually poked inside her steaming 
passage. He didn't have much time or inclination to think, but the thought 
passed through his mind that she'd been masturbating heavily. It was the 
only reason he could find for the openness of her cunt. 

In any case, he probed her slick hole with his stiff tongue while she 
incited him on with quick little pelvic movements. It was fantastically 
exciting to discover his tongue plunging all the way to the roots, tightly 
captured and squeezed by her wet inner walls. He tongue-fucked her 
furiously, while she wrapped her legs around his throat in a stranglehold. 

"Ahhhhhhh!" Sally yelped. "OWWWWWW!" Her immature body rocked and shook with 
the force of her orgasm, as she squealed happily and bounced her oozing 
snatch on his face. 

He was still tonguing her, relieved and happy that he'd made her cum, hardly 
yet thinking of himself when she fastened her mouth around the hot heavy 
head of his cock and sucked it vigorously. 

"Sally baby, oh, Sally," he groaned. 

Lost in mindless lust, he began feeding his cock into her eager wet mouth, 
jabbing the soft tissues while her tongue curled and her busy mouth sucked. 
Sally grinned around his hot meat. Some deep feminine instinct told her this 
was the time, the moment she'd been waiting for. He was too far gone, she 
knew, to put up an argument. His body wouldn't let him pull away, or at 
least it would be slow-slow enough to be too late. 

Like a slim wriggling fish in water, and as much in her own element as the 
fish, she pulled back from his cock. While he was stunned and gasping, she 
quickly straddled his body and pointed his bulbous cockhead up into her own 
avid cunt. Her hips twisted, her hands guided and in an instant she was 
sliding down his massive rigid pole. 

"NO! SALLY, NO!" Seconds too late he was shouting at her. But even while he 
said no, his body was saying yes. He knew with a kind of joyous despair that 
it was no use fighting her any more. She was smiling at him, laughing even, 
though her face had a taut strained look. 

"Holy shit!" Sally borrowed her brother's favorite phrase to describe the 
way she felt. She'd known his cock was big but she hadn't realized how big! 
She didn't want to admit she couldn't take it, or act afraid, but for 
several long breathless moments she thought she'd be split in two. Her cunt 
was thoroughly and completely stuffed, her belly pooched out, her pussy lips 
were spread and stretched to the utmost. All she could do was sit and gasp, 
hoping things would get better. 

And they did, very quickly. Somehow her tight little womb accommodated 
itself to the huge invader. Her elastic flesh subsided from its painful 
aching and poured out a flood of lubricating fluids to oil the way. From the 
hot cockhead butting on her cervix to the thick shaft separating her labia, 
a wonderful tingling warmth grew and spread. 

"Yeah, yeah," she moaned with hardly a grimace. She made a small tentative 
movement and found that she could raise up a little, and down again. Ecstasy 
stabbed through her. 

His jaw dropping open, Max stared in astonishment. As yet he hadn't gone 
past shock and disbelief. His little virginal daughter? How was it possible? 
How was it possible? She was tight, she was sure as hell tight, but somehow 
she'd managed it. He'd have sworn she had a hymen but where was it? 

"Be careful, sweets," he begged. "You'll hurt yourself. 

She answered in a tiny voice. "It's all right, Dad. Just don't move too 
fast, okay?" 

Max gawked at the slim little body, the high-set perky tits, the pretty but 
childish face. Wasn't this what he'd been wanting all along? His yen for 
Rosalia had only been a substitute for desires he was afraid to name. Talk 
about fantasies, this was one come true. 

Moving in a blissful dream, Sally began to slide up and down on the enormous 
pole. When she bounced down, the effect on her cervix was like a hard but 
enjoyable blow. She was in a fever of excitement, tingling from head to toe. 

The lust surging through him tried to tell Max he should throw her down, or 
at least on her side, so he could take charge and fuck into her as furiously 
as he wanted. But the knowledge that this was his precious little daughter 
stopped him. Instead, he told himself, he'd follow her lead. He wouldn't 
give in to the roaring animal inside his loins. His hands grabbed folds of 
the sleeping bag until his knuckles were white. Jesus, it was so heavenly, 
it was the best thing ever happened to him. 

But he could, and did, reach for her slim body and pull it down on him. Her 
tits ground into his chest, and the sheen of sweat covering her body made 
them smack wetly together. He cradled her in his arms and covered her damp 
face with damper kisses. He let his hips move now in a slow controlled 
motion, his thick cudgel plowing wetly into her. He was delighted to feel 
her outer pussy lips flutter, tightening then unclenching. The little 
darling, she knew more by instinct than a lot of grown women did from 
experience! 

It'd been a real surprise to him, during the swinging parties, to discover 
how little some women knew about fucking. Oh, they moved their asses, at 
least imitating the motion. But they had no idea, obviously, of the 
strengths and abilities of their vaginal walls, their outer pussy lips, 
their inner labia. Just as, or so Helen said, many men had to be shown how 
to fuck well enough to please a woman. Incredible to both of them, but true. 

And here was his little darling, just so eager and so sexy, and she already 
knew on her first fuck what some women never did learn! He let his hot dick 
slide forward against the clamping pressure of her inner muscles, and sighed 
ecstatically when they loosened. It was like fucking up and down, and 
sideways at the same time! 

Still holding to a steady beat, though somewhat quickened, he made sure she 
was at the right angle so his pelvic bone scraped sweetly and abrasively on 
her clit. Her body was so small and light, he could shift her position at 
will. And she seemed to sense his every movement and respond almost before 
he'd known what he was going to do. 

It was pure delight, as easy and smooth and balanced as-he thought of really 
expert ballroom dancers, swooping and gliding and twirling, then-steps not 
the same but coming together in a miracle of timing and polished beauty. It 
was hard to realize this was the same little girl who went to scout 
meetings, and loved peanut butter sandwiches, and had to be reminded to pull 
up her bobby socks, or whatever they were called. 

"Are you happy, darling?" he asked hoarsely. 

"Daddy, daddy, it's just heaven!" Sally's voice was high and thready. "And 
Daddy, you can fuck me harder." She laughed, a kind of breathless chuckle. 
"I won't break, honest!" 

So he speeded up both tempo and force, not to the full extent his powerful 
muscles could deliver, but enough to send hot flushes through him and make 
his heart beat faster. 

She loved it, obviously. Her firm little ass delivered back each blow with 
delicious precision. She had an orgasm, and held still for a breathless 
moment, hanging there while he fucked into her lightly but rapidly. Then her 
caught breath came back and she slammed her pussy onto his supercharged cock 
with new and even wetter vigor. 

"So ... nice," she panted. "So ... much ... fun!" 

"Jesssusss, yes," he groaned. 

He clutched her possessively, knowing he was on the trembling verge of 
cumming, and rained a tattoo of hard, quick blows into her. His ass muscles 
tightened, his balls drew up fatly and then his climax thundered over him. 

"RRROOOFFF! ARRRGGGHHH!" he bellowed, thrashing wildly on the narrow bunk. 
Sally clung with both arms and both legs, feeling another delightful orgasm 
ripple through her. She pumped her ass wildly as the flood of hot jism 
spurted into her tight passage, and overflowed down her thighs and buttocks. 

"Aren't you glad we did it?" she asked later, when she was nestled warmly 
against his sweaty slippery chest. "Aren't you glad, Daddy?" 

"Uhhhuhhh." He added ruefully, "I shouldn't be, but goddamn it, I am!" He 
looked down at her rumpled hair and wondered what happened now. Where did 
you go, what did you do, once you'd fucked your tiny twelve-year-old 
daughter? He wished he knew the answers. 

CHAPTER NINE 

Tim was used to cajoling his mother and getting her out of bad moods. He 
knew she liked him to be a little bit fresh, to treat her not just as a 
floor-scrubber and cookie-baker but as a woman. Like many mothers and sons, 
a mild flirtation had developed between them long before any real physical 
involvement was ever dreamed of. There was nothing wrong in it, it was a way 
of getting along, of relating to each other. 

Helen and Sally could be all female together, deep in a sewing project or 
exchanging glances and smiles over the foolishness of males. The flirtation 
was not meant to be any more than that; it was a way of giving Tim space to 
grow, of accepting him as a separate person, and a pleasing one. 

And that's where it would have stayed, Helen thought dismally, if their 
lives had gone differently. She didn't like to admit it, but all the changes 
had happened as a result of the parties where they practiced sexual freedom. 

Item number one in her moral breakdown was her new awareness of sexuality. 
She'd never so much as glanced at a male crotch before in her life, but now 
she had a habit of gauging everyone's sexual possibilities on the same level 
as personalities and intelligence. 

Number two, she'd become accustomed to a large measure of sensuality, and it 
was habit-forming. 

Three, she learned she could act out her fantasies, and it seemed perfectly 
natural to do so. 

Oh, hell, she thought, this wasn't helping her in her little talk with Tim. 
The thoughts about herself which flashed through her mind were not the kind 
which could mean much to her son. At the moment, lying snuggled into a sand 
dune, half undressed, the warmth of his body radiating out to her 
all-too-willing flesh, she was hardly in a position to reason with him. 

There was only one thing left for her to use and it was that oldest of 
feminine weapons: tears. The way she felt, emotionally unstrung, it was all 
too easy to let the salty drops run down her cheeks. 

"Please, Tim, help me be strong," she pleaded. "Don't let me have to live 
with the thought that I seduced my own son." 

"It isn't like that, Mom." 

"Please, Tim, I'm begging you. My conscience will never give me peace 
again!" 

"Bullshit!" 

She was so surprised, the tears dried instantly and her coquettish look 
disappeared. She stared at him in astonishment. He wouldn't, couldn't talk 
to her this way! 

Tim was mildly surprised himself. And it wasn't just the insistent throbbing 
of his half hard cock, nor the nearness of her enticing womanly body. It was 
just simply that... well, she was talking a lot of bullshit! He knew she was 
faking, and for the first time, he wasn't going to let her get away with it. 
Maybe his experiences with his sister had given him a new, more adult 
viewpoint, he didn't know. 

He stood and took off his jeans. "Look at that, Mom, look at what you do to 
me!" His slim boyish cock jerked upward as he spoke, growing longer and 
fatter. The foreskin was drawn back over the red nut, which glistened with 
cream. 

She couldn't help herself, not after that. His darling cock drew her like a 
magnet. Her hands clasped its warm living flesh and pumped, a thumb running 
lightly over the moist head. She went limp as he helped her take off the 
rest of her clothes, and pushed her back on the sand. A wild emotion filled 
her mind, a dark dangerous yearning. 

She fell back against the dune while he bent over her, his smooth forehead 
knitted into a frown of concentration. He carefully fitted his cockhead into 
the moist folds of her labia, and then with an ecstatic sigh, fell forward 
on her. His hard young chest felt firm and thrilling against her soft 
billowy knockers. His hips ground into her, as his fat young cock glided 
into her swollen, slick cunt. Oh, God, if felt good, so good! 

"Awwwww, Mom," he panted. His head was spinning with pleasure from the 
steamy pulpy womb closing around his stiff rod. He felt more manly than ever 
because he'd faced her and won, and that was half the pleasure. 

Helen let the dark thought uncoil in her mind. It was true, as she'd 
expected. She could feel the pressure on her clit, where his firm pelvic 
bones pressed. And if she turned on her side, or got on top of him, she'd 
get more enjoyment, more that wonderful feeling of being crammed full of hot 
male meat. But there was another way, too, and she let herself realize only 
what she wanted to know: as it was, she could barely feel his dick in her 
cunt. 

He lunged in and out easily-no wonder, she thought! Her capacious vagina 
could hold two immature pricks like this, with no strain! That was okay, let 
him get his penis thoroughly coated in her juices, thoroughly hot and 
involved in his boyish fucking. 

"Wait a minute, Tim," she gasped, "What now?" He still suspected her of 
trickery. 

"There's a better way. Let me up, honey, just for a minute. Honest, I'm not 
fooling you!" Breathing heavily, she turned on her hands and knees, 
presenting her plump white ass to him. "Get in me from behind now, honey. 
Hurry!" 

This didn't look any better to Tim than it had with Sally, less, in fact, 
because there was a lot more of his mother to get around than his skinny 
little sister. But he crouched over her, willing to try. As he'd expected, 
his cock didn't come near to reaching her swampy hole! He fumbled around, 
spreading the cheeks of her ass but he still couldn't make it. 

Helen was so impatient, she could hardly stand it. But suddenly she realized 
his problem. It was her fault, she hadn't really explained, partly because 
she hated to put it in words; she simply wanted it to happen! 

"No, no, honey, put it in here!" She reached back and spread her ass cheeks 
again, this time running her own finger down the crease until it landed on 
the puckered brown hole of her anus. 

Tim was stunned. His erection began to wilt. Sure, he remembered his mother 
putting her finger up his asshole, but his dick? He couldn't believe he was 
hearing right. 

"Huh, Mom? I don't get it." 

"Damn it! Put it in my ass, baby! Fuck me in the asshole!" 

He stroked his wet prick through the crease until it got full and hard 
again, thinking how much he had yet to learn. Who would have dreamed it? And 
was that what the naked, middle-aged couple were doing on the floor of the 
family room? He still had his doubts but he was willing to give it a try. 

Helen was wild with frustrated lust. Once she'd decided to give in to her 
perverse impulses, she just couldn't wait! She felt something bump at her 
asshole; if only she could open it wide as she could her cunt! But she did 
the best she could, relaxing the tight ring of muscle until the plump knob 
penetrated half an inch. She groaned as she felt the hot tight engorgement, 
and bucked back up against him. 

"All the way, Timmy, all the way," she moaned. 

Tim's fears and doubts dropped away the moment he felt the hot meat closing 
around his stiff dick. He grabbed her by the hips and bored in 
enthusiastically, finding it almost as easy to penetrate as his sister's 
vagina. And what a weird, wonderful feeling it was! His slim hips pumped 
frantically, as he worked his cock against the pulpy hot walls. It gripped 
him like a hand but no fist could ever be that steamily grasping and 
enclosing! 

"Hey, Mom, hey," he said gleefully. "This is something else! Holy shit, it 
feels like it's sizzling!" 

"Yeah, yeah, fuck me harder," she chanted. "Put it up my ass, all the way, 
great, good, I love it! Your sweet prick deep in my bunghole, keep it up, 
fuck me harder! Hammer it in!" She didn't really know what she was saying 
but burbled on mindlessly, moving her hips at blinding speed, the mounting 
pleasure involving all her senses. 

Tim was dizzily thrilled, overcome not only by the sensuous pleasure of 
pounding into her backside, but by the perversity and novelty of it all. 
Leaning into her cushiony buttocks, he marveled at what he was learning. 
"Thought I knew it all," he panted as he speeded up the tempo. 

His mother was nearly going crazy with pleasure, and her rapid back-bounce 
and skillful switching of her hips from side to side filled him with 
amazement. To think he was going to fuck her! He'd thought he was quite the 
man, until the authority of her sexual knowledge and ability brought him 
back to size. He loved the way she moaned, loved the lewd babble coming from 
her rosy lips, loved the way she bucked under him to get his cock deeper and 
deeper into her tight sheath. 

"Gosh, Mom, you really like it!" He panted harder. "Really-like-to-fuck!" 

"Yes yesyesyes," she wailed. "Love to fuck, oh yessss!" 

He grabbed big handfuls of her ass, like firm, white marshmallows, he 
thought. He slammed in as hard and fast as he could, knowing it couldn't be 
hard enough or fast enough for her. It was like thinking you were a pretty 
good swimmer, and then racing against an Olympic contestant! 

"Aaaaggggghhhhhh! Awwwwww!" She began to shake and yell, as a violent orgasm 
swept through her. 

Tim felt as if his cock was caught in a velvet-lined mixing machine! Every 
little twitch of her plump buttocks shot right through him, tingling clear 
down to his toes. Her muscles screwed tightly around his still stiff penis 
and then relaxed, in a wild spasm of climax. 

"Wanna stop?" he panted as she slowed. 

"NO! NOOO!!!" she screamed. "Fuck harder!" 

And he did, beating in like a piledriver until, his heart in his throat, he 
knew he'd reached the top. His intense muscular tension gave way as if he 
were falling off a cliff, mindlessly roaring down hill in a heart-wrenching 
cum. 

"Now, now," he whispered, and then let go with a shout. "NOW-OWWWWWW! 
YIIIIIPPPPPEEEEESSSSS!" Her convulsing anal walls spasmed again while his 
hot semen splattered deep in her anus. 

His last frantic lunge sent her sprawling in the sand, where she lay almost 
unconscious from the totality of her pleasure. He sprawled on top of her 
pneumatic body, feeling drained and dry-mouthed while his heart charged on 
like a freight train running down hill. 

"Oh Mom, I can't even tell you," Tim said gratefully when he could talk 
again. He brushed grains of sand from her flushed face, and gently lifted 
her hair back. 'That was just so fucking fantastic!" 

The tears in his mother's eyes this time were real, he knew. He felt the 
same way; all his circuits were overloaded and then gave way with an 
electrical display like the Fourth of July. Maybe that wasn't a good simile, 
he thought, but it was the best he could do to describe the incredible 
moments. 

Helen rolled over with a sigh. "It's really cold now," she said. "And late. 
We'd better get back to the camper." 

Without comment, she stuffed the rest of Sally's clothes in her pockets. She 
was much too tired to think about that, but it was a little nagging problem 
in the back of her mind. 

They climbed the step into the camper, Helen first. They'd seen the light on 
inside, and assumed Max and Sally had come in out of the cold. 

Helen was stiff and nervous. When Max said, "Where have you been?" she 
wouldn't know what to answer. But he didn't ask any questions. He was 
slumped on a bunk, looking sleepy. Sally sat at the dinette, wearing her 
hooded sweat shirt. 

"Brought you back a present," Max smiled, pouring her a drink out of an 
unfamiliar bottle. "It's a liqueur made out of a local plant. They don't 
ship it out; this is the only place you'll ever have it." 

She sipped and wrinkled her nose. "Interesting, isn't it?" 

"Ummmhmmm. The plant only grows on Baja. By the way, hon, did you know about 
those funy-looMng cactuses? the ones that looked like they were growing 
upside down. They're called cirios or Boojum trees, and the one stretch of 
Baja is the only place in the world they've ever been found. There's over 
one hundred varieties of cactus here, and ..." 

She stared at him. It wasn't like Max to babble on. She let his words pass 
in one ear and out the other while she considered various answers. 

Somehow, he knew what she'd been up to with Tim. He didn't want to know, 
didn't want to handle the situation; was hoping she wouldn't force him to 
acknowledge it. Make sense? Sort of, she conceded, but not wholly. 

How about this, then? He was getting it on with Rosalia in town, and had a 
guilty conscience. ... 

"... expect to find oil here, maybe gold and silver, other metals. Since 
Mexico made Baja into a state, they hope ..." 

Helen gulped her drink. The flavor was unlike anything she'd ever tasted, 
but very agreeable. She listened to Max, tuning in just long enough to make 
sure he was still at it. Yes, he'd gotten onto the history now. Missions and 
all that, Father Kino, was it? Never mind. 

Something nudged delicately at her mind. The taste of the Damiana. The scent 
of a lemon room spray, with the aerosol can sitting on the table next to 
Sally's elbow. But it was neither of those, it was a heavy familiar scent 
that cloyed at her nostrils. Reminded her of the sex-swapping parties. She 
raised her head and looked around blankly. If she'd stopped to think about 
it, she'd never had done it. But she wasn't considering the implications, 
only the solving of a puzzle. Her wild lovemaking with Tim must have addled 
her senses, because she moved without thinking. 

Helen leaned toward her husband, nostrils flaring, eyes widening. She 
sniffed audibly. Then she took a step toward the dinette table. Max stopped 
talking and his face turned red as she inhaled deeply. 

"What's the matter, Helen? What are you doing?" he asked anxiously. 

"I don't know." she looked around, still puzzled. "It sure as hell smells 
like-" She stopped, and blushed as red as Max. "I don't know," she mumbled. 
"Just my imagination, I guess." 

Sally and Tim exchanged a quick glance and the shadow of a smile, but their 
parents looked down, away from each other. Two guilty consciences and two 
bursting secrets filled the room. 

CHAPTER TEN 

"He doesn't know anything at all," Tim said. "Hard to believe, but he 
doesn't." 

"She is certainly beginning to suspect." Sally giggled. "If you could have 
seen Dad and me trying to air out the camper! Waving dish towels in the air, 
toward the windows! And spraying that stuff all over-yech!" 

"Didn't do much good, did it," he grinned. "The look on her face! Dad and 
his travel book talk, and Mom sniffing like a blood hound!" 

They laughed, but sobered quickly. The way they saw it, they had a problem. 
A family problem, but obviously it was going to be up to the two younger 
members to solve it. 

"She knows you and I have been making it together," Tim said. "I as much as 
told her so. Then we get back and find you two sitting there so innocently. 
Only the place smells; it absolutely REEKS of sex! That was the first time I 
was sure you were balling Dad, Sal." 

"Yeah, well, it was the first time I did! You know that!" The pert little 
girl giggled again. "You got my cherry, didn't you?" 

"Ummmm-hmmm. But what are we gonna do now? Dad mopes around, he feels guilty 
as hell. So does Mom. But they're never ever going to admit anything, or 
accuse the other one. Shee-it! After all the years they've been married, 
wouldn't you think they could talk together?" 

"We've got to do something. But what?" She looked anxiously at her brother. 
He was older, almost fifteen; surely he could come up with something. 

"I dunno," Tim said thoughtfully. "If we were home where we had more 
privacy, it'd be easy. We'd get up early on Sunday morning and get in bed 
with them. You next to the old man, grabbing his dork. Me cuddling up to 
Mom, with my hand in her twat. By the time they got over the shock, it'd be 
all laid out." 

"The vacation can't last forever," she said hopefully. "And now they want to 
drive farther south, I guess they're like running away from themselves, huh, 
Tim?" 

"You're a smart little cookie," he said, looking at her fondly. "Don't 
worry, I'll think of something yet." 

It was a tense, quiet and overly polite family which drove on. They stayed 
the first night in another crowded camp ground, sleeping out huddled into 
their four separate sleeping bags. 

But the next afternoon, Max turned off the narrow highway and bumped down a 
sand-rutted path. He drew a deep breath. It was warm, the sun shone, the 
gulf should be warm enough for swimming. In any case they had an enormous 
expanse of beautiful beach all to themselves. The kids could run around and 
let off some steam, which should help the situation. He felt like bloody 
hell, down this far in a foreign country, with all the miles to go home, and 
this heaviness oppressing them all. He couldn't even get his own mind 
straight, in the circumstances. Some damn vacation! 

They laid the ground sheet out in the shelter of the camper, spread the 
bags, fixed up a "kitchen" corner with the cooler and Coleman stove. There 
was still plenty of time before sunset for a swim, which did, as Max hoped, 
ease the tension, his own included. He managed to get enough exercise that, 
with the help of half a bottle of brandy, he was able to sleep. 

Helen, too, felt unaccountably better. She wished they'd headed for home 
instead of farther away, but it hadn't seemed fair to the kids. She drank 
the other half, choking it down because anything was better than lying awake 
hating herself and trying not to think about Max and Sally. 

The sun was barely a hint of blazing red on the flat grey ocean the next 
morning, when Tim slipped out of his bag. He tiptoed to his sister and eased 
down the zipper of the bedroll, slipping inside and closing it up again. 
Sally hardly realized she had company. She felt a delicious warmth 
surrounding her, and then something very nice happening. A wet mouth 
fastened on her tit and sucked sweetly. 

"Wha-oh, Tim!" She yawned, feeling his leg driven between her thighs. "Hey, 
what a nice alarm clock you make!" 

"Ssshhh!" he whispered. 

"Oh, pooh! Can't we have any fun at all?" she said crossly. 

"Sure we can, dummy!" He waited, but she merely snuggled closer to him, 
rubbing her pussy on his leg. "Come on, they could wake up any time!" 

"Whadaya mean?" 

"C'mon, wake up! Remember what I said we'd do if we were at home? On a 
Sunday morning?" When she nodded, he went on. "Well, let's see you get into 
Dad's sleeping bag right now, without making a fuss and waking Mom!" 

The two stole out like burglars in the silent dawn. The beach was still 
deserted, nor could they be seen from the highway. Sally had a hard time 
suppressing her ready giggles. Her father lay on his back and he was 
snoring, with a bubbling sound at the end of each long drawn-out snore. But 
she controlled herself and tugged at the zipper tag. 

"Mmmfff. Rrraaarrrkkk." Max mumbled in his sleep and tried to turn over, but 
pliant yielding flesh was in his way. Somehow she managed to get inside, and 
pull the zipper up again, and bury her next set of giggles in his neck. 

Sally didn't waste any time. It was a tight fit but she insinuated her 
little hand between his legs and found the warm lump of flesh. Under her 
touch it began immediately to twitch and swell, attempting to rise and 
bumping her leg with its solid erection. What the heck did Tim expect her to 
do, she thought. They couldn't hump in here unless they were contortionists! 
But she'd do her best. 

Tim in his planning knew there was no way his bigger body could share one 
sleeping bag with an adult. But lying awake, staring at the brilliance of 
the stars, he'd worked out a plan. He opened his own bag all the way, and 
carried it to his mother. He draped it partly over her, and partly over 
himself. Kneeling on the cold sand, he unzipped her bag. He managed to 
persuade her limpness over to the far side, while he climbed on it with her. 
The extra bag over the top kept them warm. It worked almost as well as he 
hoped. 

Helen dreamed she was back at one of the sex parties, nakedly embracing 
somebody's husband. Funny, she couldn't see his face, but it felt good to 
have him run his tongue over her nipples, while his hands separated her fat 
hair-lined labia. 

"Niccee," she murmured, and Tim grinned. 

He switched around and gently spread her legs. His tongue lapped warmly at 
all her most delicate and sensitive places, her clit and labia and cunt 
mouth and anus. His hand pressed the length of the crease between her 
asscheeks, and then was replaced by bis face. His fingers stroked her pussy 
lips while his tongue probed hotly at her asshole. 

"Ooooooo," she crooned, hardly knowing where the dream ended and reality 
began. 

She reached for him, vaguely surprised that he'd shrunken so. While her 
drowsy mind tried to figure out who was the shortest man in the swap group, 
so she could put a face to the exciting body, her hands found his tumescent 
penis. She clasped it and pumped, stroked his dear testicles, missed the 
bush of hair she expected. And she woke up. 

"Where am-what is this?" She blinked in the sudden dazzle of daylight, and 
looked around wildly. My God, what was she doing! 

"Tim! Come out of there!" 

He knew she meant it and came up smiling. "Nice way to wake up, isn't it, 
Mom?" He kept one hand between her legs, and the other one tweaking a 
nipple. 

"Are you out of your mind?" she scolded. "Where are your father and Sally?" 

"Turn your head that way, take a look." 

It was the strangest sight she'd ever seen. The long shape of the sleeping 
bag, like a green caterpillar, seemed to be having convulsions. While they 
stared in fascination, it peaked high first here, then there. It humped 
across the beach aimlessly, now falling one way, now another. It bumped 
headfirst-if you could decide which was the head-into a wheel of the camper, 
and then spun away. Strange little muffled cries and squeals came from it. 

Tim began to laugh, and after a moment so did Helen. She knew what she was 
seeing, but after all, it wasn't a complete surprise. She'd tried to guide 
events away from this moment of truth and exposure. But she hadn't 
succeeded, and so she let herself go. Sitting up, bundled in sleeping bags 
from the waist down but topless above, they laughed until tears came in her 
eyes. 

"This is absolutely horrible," she said, wiping the tears away, still 
chuckling. 

"Oh, shit, did you ever see anything so funny in your life?" Tim wondered if 
he should renew his attack on his mother's seductive body, in order to 
complete his plot. But he didn't think he'd succeed, for one thing. For 
another, he'd laughed himself right out of an erection. 

"Are you mad, Mom?" 

"I certainly should be," she said. 

"But it would be hypocritical," he told her' solemnly. 

"You and your big words! Listen, Einstein, you're so smart, get me my robe 
and put water on for coffee. Your dad's going to need it." She laughed 
again, eyes on the disjointed sleeping bag. "If Sally's anything like me, 
he's going to need a lot of coffee." She couldn't help the tone of pride in 
her voice. She knew they had plenty of problems ahead, but it seemed as if 
the worst was over. 

She returned to the same thought half an hour later, when the family sat 
holding mugs of steaming coffee. Shamefaced but relieved, Max felt as if 
he'd just been given a pardon from a life sentence. 

"At least it's all out in the open," he said. 

"Yes, thanks to our smart-assed kids." But she smiled when she said it. 
"Listen, Max, I know we can't go backwards. Can't give Sally her cherry 
back." 

"It wasn't me," Max said hastily. "I swear to God, I don't know who, but it 
wasn't me!" 

Helen shook her head. "Even I could figure that out, you lunk! Who else but 
her loving brother!" 

It took Max a while to recover from that. He discovered the strange pang he 
felt was jealousy; but as soon as he identified it, it faded away. Of 
course, why hadn't he guessed! 

"Anyhow, let's call this meeting to order again," Helen said. "We've got to 
talk about what's happened____" 

"Before breakfast?" Sally groaned. 

"If you want breakfast, fix it!" she snapped. "With all the equality we've 
got going here-no, anarchy, is what it is!" And then she burst into tears. 

The lads looked at each other. They were in high spirits, proud of 
themselves for forcing their parents to look at things the way they really 
were. And Helen had seemed to take it so well! It wasn't as if their father 
alone had been breaking the rules, because she'd done as much with Tim. 

But Max understood. He put an arm around his wife and said, "It'll be all 
right, honey, you'll see. Nobody's blaming you. And we can handle it, like 
we've handled everything else. Together." He got her to her feet. 

Turning to the youngsters, he said, "Fix yourselves something to eat, why 
don't you. Mom and I will be in the camper for a while." 

When Helen said they couldn't go backwards, was when she began to realize 
she didn't know how to go forward either. They'd been brought up with a 
certain set of rules and beliefs. Puritanical, maybe, and out of date-but 
still a code to try and live by. Then, when they joined the swap group and 
enjoyed sexual freedom with their friends, they were still supported by the 
others. The fact that so many of their friends and neighbors were doing the 
same thing, and they all played by the same rules, made it easy. They had 
group support. 

Now he and Helen were out in uncharted territory. They didn't know what to 
believe any more and it frightened her. He knew she'd get over it, because 
it was mostly her authority as a parent that was challenged, and her 
security in playing the role expected of her. Helen never yearned to be a 
pioneer. 

Max knew just what would cheer her up. And he knew too, once she got past 
this particular moment, her own common sense would help her live happily 
with the new revelations. 

"Lie down on the bunk," he said. While the tears ran down her face, he 
opened her robe and stroked her gently. "It's just nerves, he said 
soothingly. "Give it a little time." 

Sally and Tim were too upset to eat. It seemed to them that the more they 
learned about their parents, the less they really knew them. After a 
whispered conference, they sneaked up to the side window of the camper and 
peered inside. 

"Will you look at that," Tim marveled. 

"Hasn't he got a big one, though," his little sister sighed. 

Moans and frantic movements shook the camper. Helen lay on her back, 
writhing wildly. Her legs were spread wide, and her husband had his face 
pressed into the steamy vee of her crotch. The kids could tell that he was 
tonguing her furiously as his head bobbed and moved. His powerful naked body 
almost filled the narrow bunk. His cock looked as if it would burst its 
skin, the glans a deep red and shiny with jism. The enormous staff seemed to 
have a life of its own,, as it wobbled in front of him. 

Some signal must have passed between them which the children failed to see. 
Their father raised his head, his face was smeared with her juices and he 
smiled in a twisted way. Growling fiercely, he threw himself on top of 
Helen's voluptuous body. 

"Awwwwww," she mewled, "do it now, fuck me! Fuck me good!" 

Max was tremendously happy. The contortions on his face were only from the 
strength of his swelling lust. He worked his rigid pole into her, loving the 
slick creamy slide of his cock up her vagina. Nobody could fuck like Helen, 
he thought ecstatically. It was a natural talent, and no wonder her little 
daughter had it too! He could feel her expert muscles clamp around his 
aching shaft, giving delicious hot pressure. He slipped his hands under her 
ass and pulled her pelvis up, tilting it toward him. Her legs splayed high 
and wide, one knee cocked so an ankle rested on his shoulder. 

Wonderful Max, she thought. He knows exactly how I felt, and why my nerves 
were strained so tight. And he knew the perfect cure, too! She threw her 
arms around his surging, hard-working shoulders and bit him gently on the 
biceps. Joy swept through her as she gave herself up wholly to the powerful 
cock reaming out her needy cunt. 

The kids were fascinated. They hardly felt the strain of standing on tiptoe 
in order to see through the high window. It was another new experience for 
them, to see adult lovemaking done out of commitment and powerful love. With 
every move of their bodies, their parents were showing the love they had for 
each other, the years of experience in knowing each other's pleasures and 
physical capacities, and the deep involvement they had in making the other 
one happy. 

Neither Sally nor Tim could express what they felt, but they were impressed 
as never before with their parents as people, and with the stability of the 
marriage they'd always taken for granted. 

"Hey, Sal," Tim nudged his sister. "You know what we'd better do?" 

"No, what? Fuck for a little while, too?" 

"No, you dummy!" He laughed. "We'd better get out the eggs and sausage and 
start cooking. Those two are going to be hungry enough to swallow it raw if 
we don't get hopping!" 

"Right!" Awed but pleased with what she'd seen and felt, the little girl got 
out a skillet. 

CHAPTER ELEVEN 

"Oooooo, I like that, Tim! I don't know why it feels good, but it does!" 
Sally looked up at her brother's flushed face, framed against the brilliance 
of the stars. She wriggled ecstatically as he continued to ram his thumb in 
her anus. 

He flicked his hips backward and forward rapidly, and then slowed. His fat 
young cock was buried deep in his sister's wet slick cunt. 

"I dunno." He frowned, and then quickly smiled. "But why it feels good to me 
... it tightens the pressure on my cock." 

"Ahhhhhh," she sighed as he began again, fucking into her with long slow 
strokes, "Ahhhhhhh!" 

They were lying on a sleeping bag with a warm summer breeze playing over 
their bodies, teasing Sally's long hair, cooling the sweat that sprang out 
on Tim's busily working back. 

A few feet away, Max and Helen sprawled on the sand and listened 
indulgently. She sipped her tumbler of Damiana and held up a cigarette to be 
lighted. It was really strange, but she felt relaxed and contented. Her 
shock and fear had almost completely vanished, though she didn't understand 
why. 

"It's been a long day, Max," she said, leaning her head on his shoulder. 

They'd eaten and done the camp chores. They'd gone swimming in the clear 
blue waters of the Sea of Cortez, splashing through the light surf and 
floating as in a warm salty bath. The kids splashed and chased each other, 
and hunted shells, and aimed their cameras at everything in sight. All that 
was well and good, a normal happy family vacation. To their relief, no other 
cars or campers had pulled into what they thought of as their own private 
beach. 

Helen was calm and happy most of the time, until late afternoon. Max's 
therapeutic fucking did her a lot of good; it was more than a physical 
encounter, it was a strong reminder of their love for each other, and their 
trust. She'd accepted the idea that he wanted to have Sally just as much as 
she needed Tim. 

What she hadn't counted on was her reaction to seeing the two youngsters 
making love to each other. Somewhere in her mind they were still babies, 
dependents she had to protect. And when they kissed each other for long 
breathless moments, when Tim ran his fingers up his sister's ass playfully, 
when Sally giggled and grabbed for her brother's penis, Helen got shook all 
over again. 

"What if somebody sees them," she fretted. "What if they forget, and do that 
in school or on the playground." 

"Now, now, have a little faith," Max answered. She knew what it was; she 
still felt an overabundance of maternal responsibility. As Max pointed out, 
they could well expect the children to learn about sex any time from then 
on. The difference from most families was that the parents were usually 
unaware of what their kids were up to. Even though she'd been a virgin when 
she married, she knew perfectly well that few of her girl friends were. She 
remembered girls from high school who got in the back seats of cars with 
almost anyone. She remembered some others who bragged about purely technical 
virginity. They only went down on boys, and got their kicks being sucked 
off; they didn't screw. 

And if teenagers of her generation did those things, surely the children 
coming along today would do them too, and more. With all the exposure to 
movies and magazines, with increasing permissiveness in the air, with 
women's publications in the grocery store that featured articles on orgasms 
and contraceptives, there was no way young people wouldn't be encouraged to 
learn and experiment with sex. Even if they weren't allowed into movies like 
Deep Throat, simply knowing the film was playing everywhere made an 
atmosphere that was bound to affect them 

She still felt stiff and resistant until they sat around a fire toasting hot 
dogs for dinner. Maybe it was the Damiana liqueur Max kept pouring into her. 
She couldn't believe it really was an aphrodisiac, but-could she prove it 
wasn't? Certainly her mind and muscles relaxed, and her cunt began to churn 
and cream. 

Helen took another sip, and let the aromatic flavor roll around on her 
tongue. 

No, it wasn't the drink so much as the kids and their open, wholesome 
attitude. 

They bickered agreeably over who could cook hot dogs the best, just as 
they'd always done. They crammed creamy sweet, half blackened marshmallows 
in their mouths greedily. They groaned about doing dishes, but did them just 
the same. And after the clean-up, the four of them stared into the dying 
fire and sang the same old songs Helen remembered from her own Scouting 
days. "Oh Susannah," 

"Green Grow the Rushes-O" and "Tell Me Why" floated on the clear night air, 
Sally's soft treble soaring over Tim's deepening alto. They all laughed, Tim 
included, when his voice suddenly broke and sent him into a throaty bass. 
The kids were just the same, after all. 

When she said this to Max, he laughed. 

"Did you expect them to turn into old hags, or monsters of some kind?" Well, 
she guessed she had. 

"Let me fill your glass," he said kindly. "Try to relax, hon, everything is 
just fine." 

By the time Sally nestled into her brother's arms, and began whispering in 
his ear, her mother could take it in stride. The mischevious little girl 
knew Tim was cautious about making the first move, so she did it for him. 
Whispered and tickled his ear with her tongue, and rolled against him so he 
couldn't help but feel her little titties. Skinned off her jeans and threw a 
leg over his hips, forcing him to acknowledge her damp crotch and hungry 
pussy. 

Then the parents watched with loving smiles while their kids fucked each 
other madly. Helen whispered, "Why does it feel so good to get fucked in the 
ass?" 

"Lots of nerve endings there, I think." He tried to remember. "Let's look it 
up when we get home. Buy a copy of Kinsey or something." 

"Okay." The longer she watched, the more Helen got turned on. Tim's firm 
slim ass was a white blur in the moonlight. She had this terrific desire to 
go touch it, to get involved somehow in the frantic lovemaking. She looked 
at Max out of the corner of her eye. His jaw hung a little open, and saliva 
gathered in the corners of his mouth. He licked his lips periodically, and 
his eyes seemed glued to the lascivious scene. 

Well, if Sally could break the ice, so could her mother! Slowly Helen stood 
and peeled off her flared pants. She pulled her jersey over her head, and 
looked down at her naked body. Not bad for an old girl. Pretty damn good, in 
fact, for the mother of two. Her stomach pouched out a little bit, but in a 
gentle womanly curve. Her boobs hung down like fat pears, but they always 
had; it was because they were so full and heavy. Her hips and thighs were 
firm and gleamed whitely. She strolled over and looked down at the two 
sweat-damp bodies, trying to figure out what to do. 

Tim did have the sweetest little ass! She dropped down beside him and 
stroked it, and slid a finger between the cheeks. The puckered brown hole 
gave way under her pressure. Tim slowed his stroke for just a moment, and 
then picked up speed. Her finger went up and down with his bobbing back, 
shaking her arm. She crooked the finger inside his tight brown hole, 
wiggling it. He shivered all over and moaned happily. 

Max had been watching all this with interest. Well, all right, he thought. 
He took off his clothes and approached the threesome. His hard-on waggled in 
front, bouncing with his step. It throbbed heavily, and he looked for a 
place to put it. Rearranging Helen only took a minute. He spit on his 
fingers and rubbed them over his penis, feeling the blood beat in his 
enormously ready organ. He bent over his wife's behind and plugged her anus 
with the scarlet wet head. "Relax," he whispered as he pushed. He didn't 
need to say that thought Helen. Her sphincter muscles were just as relaxed 
as she could make them. Her ass swelled up his cock like a mouth, surely 
sucking it in and not just accepting. Was that possible? Something else to 
look up, she thought vaguely, and then forgot to think at all. Her round 
white asscheeks struck back again and again, catching his hard swinging 
stroke. Her anal walls clung, so that his emerging cock brought with it a 
thin pink-brown skin as tight as a tourniquet. Lust flooded through her, her 
clit rose and swelled, her nipples awoke, her very skin seemed an instrument 
of erotic pleasure. 

"HIIHH! EEEEEE!" Sally yelped. Helen and Max heard her cries very dimly, as 
if sand had stopped up their ears. He growled wordlessly as he plundered his 
wife's beautiful backside. The tight wet heat and the way she slammed back 
against his thighs and swinging balls made him growl louder and clamp his 
hands tight on her hips. 

Helen didn't know when Tim rolled away and she lost the close feeling of 
finger-fucking his anus. But he was there, rolling under her, urging her 
down toward his face. She sank, squatted, with a happy moan. His fingers 
pulled her labia apart, and then his tongue began to explore the wet steamy 
depths of her pussy. Slammed forward and back by Max's powerful cock, at the 
same time she bounced up and down on the hot probing tongue. She was almost 
delirious with pleasure, her head spinning, her little happy cries filling 
the air. 

"Oh, uh, HAHHH! Oh good, fuck! Fuck!" she chanted, breathing hard through 
her mouth. She was at a peak of lusty abandonment she hadn't thought 
possible. 

Recovering from her orgasm, Sally watched the lascivious scene. She admired 
her mother's fuller body and sexual skills desperately, and wished she could 
tell her so that very minute. But she wasn't going to be left out, not 
Sally! She circled the lewd trio and crouched behind her father's back. His 
hairy balls were bouncing and jangling, his ass going furiously. She loved 
the sight of his thick white penis sliding in and out of her mother's 
bunghole. Her little hands grasped the swelling balls, tickled Max's anus, 
stroked his buttocks lovingly. She put her face into the cleft of his ass 
and tasted the odorous asshole. Her tongue poked hard and penetrated the 
tight puckered ring of muscle. 

"JEEEZZZuss!" That did it, Max thought. His balls were supercharged, and 
they moved and tingled, and shot their hot load down the length of his cock 
into Helen's narrow sheath. He slammed on for a moment or two, his spurting 
dick jetting its steamy jism into her, until it shriveled and slipped out. 
Still panting, he fell forward on her creamy backside. 

At almost the same moment, Helen felt the double assault as a small 
explosion. Rockets went off inside her, her labia vibrated and fluttered 
involuntarily, and the sweet pangs shot all through her. 

"AAAHHHHHH!" she shouted. "AAARRRGGGHHH!" The semen flooded her anus, her 
cunt let loose a flood of her own juices, and she collapsed, exhausted but 
happy on the beach, almost at the point of tears. 

"Holy shit," Tim breathed raspingly. He couldn't even believe it! He patted 
his mother's heaving back. "When you do something, Mom, you don't fool 
around!" 

Laughter gusted between them, and Max looked at his family with breathless 
satisfaction. He agreed with his son. Once Helen was convinced, she really 
made a job of it! 

"Next time-" Sally began, and they all hooted. 

"Let's have a little time out," her father begged. "You! You just never get 
enough, you little minx!" 

Sally had to admit it was true. She had an incredible appetite for sex, it 
even amazed herself. She could be writhing and panting and howling in the 
middle of an orgasm, and still feel the hot desire for another one building 
up in her. Her little pussy was sore half the time from the unaccustomed 
exercise, but she felt confidently that the minor ache would pass. She'd 
have to ask her mother if there was something to put on it, or rather in it. 
Then the bizarre reality hit the girl, and she chortled to herself. Just 
imagine asking one's mother what to do about a vagina that was sore from too 
much fucking! The odd humor of it struck her forcibly, and her snort of 
laughter turned into a gale, rolling her over in the sand. 

"What's so funny, sweets?" her father asked. 

"Oh... nothing. Just something to tell Mom about later. A little female 
secret," she said demurely. 

Helen was as puzzled as the rest, but secretly gratified. The one thing she 
feared was the loss of her daughter's confidence. They'd been unusually 
close, for mother and daughter, and she hoped it would stay that way. Not 
only for Sally's sake, because she needed her mother whether she knew it or 
not, but quite selfishly. Helen would hate to think of losing the friendship 
and warm companionship. 

"Okay, kiddo," she said cheerfully. "Why don't you tell us what you have 
lined up for us next? Then we can be thinking about it while we get 
recharged." 

"Well, if I go down on Tim, and Dad fucks me, and-no, that's not right. Say 
Tim fucks Mom, while I-oh, shit!" She stamped her foot in frustration while 
her family roared. 

"Never mind, honey," her mother said comfortingly. "We'll work it out. She 
turned to Max and said teasingly, "I've heard all I can take about what a 
great lover you are. Now here's your little girl hot to trot, and what are 
you doing about it?" 

"I'm an old man," he protested laughingly. But he shook his shoulders in an 
involuntary shiver, and looked down at his groin. As they all stared, his 
limp-hanging meat began to twitch, and swell, and raise itself. "Not too 
old, though, I guess," he added. 

Feeling strong and virile and happy, he crawled over to the eager girl and 
split her pussy lips with the swelling head of his cock. The touch was 
enough, her cunt creamed heavily and spilled over his hot dick. He shoved in 
carefully, and found to his surprise and delight that, though he could enter 
her more easily, her sheath was as tight and hot as ever. Deeply moved by 
the lewd and loving situation, he began to fuck her in long slow strokes. 

"Okay, honey, I'll be ringmaster," Helen said cheerfully to her son. "Just 
climb right aboard, stick your whacker in your little sister's mouth." 

"But what about you," he asked, looking longingly at Sally's lewdly smiling 
lips. 

"Just do it, don't worry." 

His balls plump, his young dick stiff and fat, he knelt over her face. Her 
mouth closed slickly around his aching penis and she tickled it hotly with 
her tongue. He moaned happily and closed his eyes as he fed his meat to her 
in quick fast jabs. 

Helen could hardly wait. She'd gotten the most perverted idea of all during 
the last go-round, and she was eager to try it. Kneeling behind her son, she 
separated his buns and bent her face to the moist odorous cleft. 

"Yiiipes!" Tim leaped as he felt his mother's long hollowed tongue worming 
into his anus. It was almost more than he could stand! The pleasure was so 
intense, his balls almost spilled their load then and there. But he took a 
deep breath and went back to fucking his sister's mouth, while Helen's slick 
firm tongue stabbed right to its roots in his tight pungent asshole. 

No less amazed than his son, Max looked across Sally's slim body and saw the 
flickering tongue fucking Tim's anus. What a woman he'd married! She'd 
fought hardest against change, but once she accepted it, she went all the 
way! 

Talk about togetherness, he thought, as he continued plunging his huge dick 
into Sally's tight nest. This was one family that had it, and, he vowed, 
they were going to keep it that way. He and Helen, between them, could 
safeguard the children's well being and happiness. It might not be 
conventional. It might not even be the best way. In fact, if he'd thought it 
out in advance, he would have been strongly against it. But since the 
situation was already here, in existence, he sure as hell meant to enjoy it! 

CHAPTER TWELVE 

"Well, we'd have loved to but... no ... yes, we're all just fine. And no, 
we're not mad at anybody, we don't want to upset you, we have simply changed 
our minds... For Christ's sake, don't worry so! We'll keep our mouths shut, 
we were in it as much as you... Okay. No hard feelings? ... Good ... 
Good-bye." 

Max shook his head wearily. "That's the fifth call in two days, Helen. They 
sure don't give up easy, do they?" 

He put the phone back on the stand and slumped on the sofa. She patted his 
bare knee and said, "They'll believe us sooner or later, honey. Even if they 
don't understand why." 

"Yeah, I guess." He grinned. "And God knows we aren't about to say why!" 

He tried to put the phone call out of his mind. He had no idea dropping out 
of the swinging group would be such a hassle, though now he could understand 
it. The other couples were hurt and offended. They felt as though he and 
Helen had tried them, and rejected them. He might have felt the same way. 

Helen went on thoughtfully, "I'm glad we did drop out before, we got into 
family swinging. Though I don't know what difference it makes." 

"They feel as if we've put them down, but they'll get over it. And I 
think-yes, I'm sure-there're others who want to drop out, too. The die-hards 
are afraid we're setting a bad example. Bad from their viewpoint, that is." 

"This is so much better," she sighed. Max agreed wholeheartedly. He looked 
around the room, seeing his family together with satisfaction. At first 
they'd all laughed at Sally's ideas, she sounded so young and naive. She 
couldn't see why nudity and sex had to be kept for certain hours and now 
enjoyed freely, as long as they kept the draperies closed. But somehow it'd 
worked out just as she thought it should. 

Helen was wearing a robe, but it was open down the front, showing a very 
attractive glimpse of her big creamy knockers and nearly flat tummy, and the 
soft curls of her bulging pudenda. He was wearing boxer shorts himself, in 
spite of the kids' complaints about his being a fuddy-duddy. He could take 
them off in a hurry, he said good naturedly. Besides, the fly gave a lot of 
leeway. As for instance right now, when Helen was troubled and thoughtful, 
she naturally wanted the reassurance of being able to touch him. Her hand 
slipped inside the opening and fingered his soft penis. It was a handful 
even when limp, she liked to say. She just liked the warmth and intimacy of 
holding it. 

The lights were dim, and the children had their eyes glued to the 
television. They couldn't be bothered with any clothes at all, when the 
family was alone. 

"I have to let my body breathe," Sally said dramatically, throwing her arms 
wide and stretching. 

Be that as it may, and his body had been breathing okay under clothes for a 
few years, Max understood. It was a new generation, the-what did they call 
it? The Now generation. 

And their own particular specimens of it were curled up in one big armchair. 
Tim sat with his legs sprawled wide, his head thrown back in comfort. Sally 
was crosswise in the chair, head on one arm, knees over the other. Her pert 
bottom rested on her brother's lap. 

Tim's one arm held her back, but his free hand toyed with her pink nipples 
or her little forest of curls, that grew thicker and springier every day. 
Max knew, he didn't need a diagram, that Sally had managed to spread her 
buttocks so Tim's penis lay snugly in the nest. 

So that's the way it was. During commercials, they might play with each 
other's bodies, or invent new games. Either kid felt perfectly free to 
fondle their parents nudity, too, and the other way around. 

It hadn't spoiled anything, merely added a new exciting dimension to family 
life. Helen was still the boss around the house, he himself as always the 
final court of appeal. We're so lucky, he thought. We've got good kids. 
We've got perfect honesty and trust among ourselves. 

Yes, it might not be everybody's ideal family, but he was more than 
satisfied. 

"Oh, shoot, there's nothing on now but news," Sally pouted. 

"Bedtime," Helen said automatically. 

"Motherrr! It's Friday night!" , "Oh, sorry, dear." Helen looked around 
placidly. "Anybody for a game of Monopoly?" 

Tim spoke up. "If you two aren't too tired ... well, Sal got one of her 
weird ideas today." 

They grinned at each other. They'd already had Crisco parties, where they 
greased their bodies and then had a slippery round-robin of sex. They'd 
eaten everything from peanut butter to puddles of brandy out of various 
places in their bodies. They'd created a shortage of ready whipped cream at 
the local market, because the kids fancied squirting it at each other and 
then licking it off. 

"Is there anything left to do?" Max grinned. 

"She wants us to take turns fucking and see who can make it last the 
longest," Tim said, grinning back. 

"Yeah," Sally chimed in eagerly. "And when it's my turn, I'm going to read a 
book aloud at the same time! See if I can fuck and do my homework 
simul-simultin-oh, shit! You know what I mean! Both things together." 

Helen laughed, and shook her head. "Weird is right. Suppose you two begin, 
and we watch and time you. I've got a stop watch from your swimming meets." 

She got up to get it, and Max slumped back in comfort, ready for the show. 
These darn kids, what would they come up with next? Who needed sex swaps 
with people you didn't even love, when you could have all this at home! 

Yep, he thought comfortably, it's just the beginning of another family 
weekend at our house. A happy family scene, togetherness like nobody ever 
saw before. 


THE END
