My Father's Seduction
by Dick Edwards


FOREWORD 

A summer in Southampton. Rest, quiet, the chance to unwind and savor the 
simpler pleasures in a clime conducive to quiet thought. It's a fabulous 
idea, thinks Gail Lansing, seductive, auburn-haired divorcee, as she hastens 
to the idyllic splendor of the Hamptons to share a cozy cottage with her two 
best friends, Jane Fielding, a pert and perky blonde bombshell, and Alice 
Dalton, a titan-tressed temptress with a lust-provoking figure. 

Unbelievable but decidedly delightful is how Gail terms the sudden 
appearance of her handsome brother, Jim, in Southampton. No sooner does she 
learn that he is about to divorce his wife than she is in his muscular arms, 
brother and sister consummating, at long last, the deep love each has always 
held for the other. 

Meanwhile, back in Manhattan, Gail's ex-husband, Paul Dover, and Jim's 
soon-to-be ex-wife, Amanda, have resumed familiar affairs terminated by 
marriage. The unassuming, mild-mannered Paul finds comfort in the loving 
embrace of his attractive cousin, Sally, a gentle, understanding girl whose 
quiet demeanor masks a lusty sex urge. Amanda is frigid with Jim, turns 
tiger once back in the strong arms of her aging but still very virile 
father, Walter Cannon. 

Learning of Gail's relationship with her brother, Alice Dalton confesses 
that she too favors the wicked pleasures of incest. As does the 
irrepressible Jane Fielding. Neither girl worries much about still being 
single, for both have found sexual fulfillment with their fathers. 

Their sexy secrets revealed, Jane and Alice invite their fathers out to 
Southampton. It's one big, happy family as Laurence Fielding and Kenneth 
Dalton join their depraved daughters and Jim and Gail in a wild orgy of 
incest. 

It's crazy. 

It's mad. 

It's a merry mix-up of pleasure-seekers, all of whom decry decorum and mock 
morality while passionately proclaiming the perverted joys of incestuous 
lust. 

-The Publishers 

 Chapter One 

Deliriously naughty thoughts snaked into Gail Lansing's mind as she stepped 
out into the night, quietly closing behind her the front door of the cozy 
cottage she shared with two other females. She stood for a moment at the 
door, savoring the night's intoxicating scent, her beautiful, bikini-clad 
body lovingly caressed by the warm, gentle breezes wafting over the sandy 
shore. 

It was nicer now, she thought, with midnight fast approaching, than it had 
been earlier in the day, when a sizzling summer sun-a great ball of fire in 
a bright blue sky-had threatened to fry to a smoldering crisp all those 
brave enough to venture down to the beach. 

It wasn't bad if you stayed in the water. A swim in the Atlantic was 
cooling, delightfully refreshing, a most welcome respite from the oppressive 
heat and the sun's scorching rays. But only a fish would respond 
enthusiastically to the suggestion of a life spent submerged. 

Humans, however, were more complex, their behavior guided by needs as well 
as by the instinct to survive. Biological needs, for instance. And so sooner 
or later you found yourself bidding a temporary farewell to the ocean, 
tramping through the burning sand to the spot staked out earlier on the 
beach, there to drop down onto a white hot blanket while the fiery sun made 
ready to bake anew your dripping wet body. 

Brother, what a really picayune complaint that was, Gail decided, a small, 
pretty smile flowering on her clear-complexioned face as she gently chided 
herself for dwelling on something as insignificant as a hot summer sun. 
Would she have preferred a day of rain to a day of sunshine? Absolutely not. 

The prospect of cavorting on the beach day after day in her wickedly sexy, 
snug-fitting bikini-in the process getting the kind of deep, rich tan her 
friends would envy when she returned to her apartment in the city-was one 
reason she had decided to summer in Southampton with Jane and Alice. 

For the first time in a long time she felt good, Gail thought, tugging on 
the flaming red towel draped around her neck and partially concealing her 
chest. 

Rest, she wanted-rest, she had gotten. Good old P.S. 74 seemed a million 
miles away. How marvelous it was to be away from the bedlam, the shouts, 
tears, and inevitable arguments of children packed like sardines into a 
poorly-lighted, poorly-ventilated classroom, the walls of which were 
streaked with grime. 

The sometimes angry debates she'd had with fellow teachers concerning 
teaching techniques, curriculum for the disadvantaged and culturally 
deprived, had dimmed in memory. As had the occasional sarcasm of her 
students, their lack of attention and unnerving indifference and 
bet-you-can't-teach-me-anything attitude with which they greeted her every 
attempt to feed them the knowledge they'd need to forge futures of promise. 

It all seemed so far away now, so unreal, like a bad dream from which she 
had awakened. Her energy, her enthusiasm, her love of life had all returned 
in the past six weeks, blossoming beautifully during days devoted to nothing 
more strenuous than simple relaxation and quiet thought. 

And Paul. Yes, she was even beginning to forget about him. 

Her bitterness, great at the time of their divorce, had all but disappeared. 
If she was not yet able to forgive him, she was at least no longer filled 
with hate. Marriage to Paul had been a mistake, a very large mistake, but to 
spend the rest of her life in a state of suspended animation, neither caring 
nor feeling, would be an even greater mistake. 

And thanks to Jim, wonderful, understanding, loving Jim, a man so unlike her 
ex-husband, she once again felt like a real woman, one capable of giving and 
receiving genius love. 

Gail shook free of her thoughts and began the quarter mile hike to her 
handsome lover, excitement welling within her as she eagerly anticipated the 
moment when once again she would be in his arms, his hard, well-muscled body 
pressed hotly against her soft, supple one as they locked loins in 
passionate embrace. 

A full moon shone overhead as she made her way to what Jim called their 
"private passion place," a bed of clean sand surrounded on all sides by 
large dunes. It was their very own, and it was here that they would make 
love, their naked bodies entwining as cunt swallowed up cock with feverish 
delight. 

It would be simple, of course, to register in a motel somewhere and do their 
screwing there. It might be more suitable for screwing than a bed of 
hard-packed sand. And when fucking indoors, one didn't have to worry about 
the elements. Unless, of course, there was a leak in the roof over the bed. 

Getting banged outdoors was different. Delightfully different. Writhing in 
naked abandon under the stars, moaning up into a delightful night filled 
with mystery, was more thrilling, more exotic, than getting humped on a bed 
indoors. 

It was lewd, deliciously so, and faintly evil, but at the same time very 
natural, almost animalistic. And making love on a beach at night, by the 
light of a shining moon, was made even more exciting by the ever present 
danger of being discovered. There was always the possibility that a couple, 
out for a late night stroll on the beach, would suddenly stumble over her 
and Jim while they were passionately entwined. 

It hadn't happened yet, but even if they were discovered one night, so what? 
What did it really matter? 

All of Jim's closest friends knew that he was separated from his wife and 
that in several months the divorce would become final. So Jim was, for all 
intents and purposes, a single man again, one free to fuck whomever caught 
his fancy. Only blue-nosers and religious fanatics would expect him to 
ignore his sexual urges now that his marriage had collapsed. 

And as for herself, she too was once again free to mate with men of her 
choice. No longer was she tied to Paul. Nowhere did it say that a divorcee 
had to act like a skittish virgin on her first real date. She was young, 
healthy, and more often than not horny as hell, so why shouldn't she seek 
out the sexual satisfaction her body craved? 

There was just one thing, though. While it mattered very little if she and 
Jim were discovered making love by one of his friends, or by one of the 
girls she had met on the beach, things could get just a wee bit sticky if 
either Alice or Jane found out that she had taken Jim as a lover. 

Just how understanding would her two best friends be? That was the question. 
After all, hadn't the always hot-to-trot Alice made a play for her Jim? No 
sooner had she introduced him as a wonderful friend of many years standing, 
a great guy who, much to her surprise and delight, had decided to summer in 
Southampton, than Alice started batting her baby blues and smiling that 
devilish come hither smile of hers. 

Yes, just how would Alice and Jane react if they learned that she and Jim 
were lovers? With shock, perhaps? Shock liberally laced with disgust? 

Ah, the hell with the two of them ... 

Casting aside thoughts of the two females with whom she shared her small 
summer home, Gail continued her purposeful march to the "private passion 
place," her pulse beginning to quicken as she drew nearer her waiting lover. 

And then, at last ... 

"Hi there, friend. Been waiting long?" 

Jim, recognizing the voice immediately, opened his eyes and smiled. He was 
stretched out on his back on the sand, hands locked behind his head, legs 
spread just slightly. Around his middle and sheathing his loins were a pair 
of close-fitting trunks. 

"What's the matter?" Gail asked with a broad smile. "Cat got your tongue?" 

"You interrupted a beautiful dream, beautiful." 

"Really?" 

"Uh huh." 

Gail made her way down the side of the sand dune, stepped to where Jim was 
peacefully reclining, and dropped down onto her knees next to him. "Care to 
tell me about this wonderful dream of yours?" she asked, placing her left 
hand on the smooth, flat plane of his hard stomach. "Or is it going to be 
your secret?" 

"No secret." 

"Then tell me about it." 

"I was dreaming about you, Miss Lansing." 

"That's nice," Gail smiled, sliding her hand upward, her fingers snaking 
through the wealth of dark, curly hairs matting Jim's strong chest. 

"I was dreaming about your face, your breasts, your long, sleek legs, your 
beautiful bottom, your-" 

"What were you doing?" Gail interrupted with a chuckle, "Taking inventory?" 

"What I was doing was getting awfully horny, baby. I was laying you in my 
dream." 

"Now you can lay me in person, Jim." 

"Mmm, and it'll be even better than socking it to you in my imagination." 

"I certainly hope so." 

Jim chuckled, the warm smile remaining on his face as he looked up at the 
very desirable female at his side. Gail was gorgeous, a five-foot-seven-inch 
package of pulchritude, a 38-24-36 bundle of beauty whose stunning figure 
turned male heads everywhere she went-especially when she paraded up and 
down the beach wearing the kind of lust-provoking, fantastically sexy bikini 
she had on at the moment. 

Her firm, full breasts sat proudly on her chest-twin mounds of creamy 
goodness which, when packed snugly into a skimpy halter, threatened to spill 
out and over the confining cups of cotton. 

Her tummy was smooth and flat, her buttocks rounded to perfection, and her 
hips as shapely as any he had ever seen. Those hips tapered to firm, strong 
thighs, which in turn led to well-formed calves. Even Gail's feet, were 
pretty, the ankles being well-turned and the toes perfectly constructed. 

What a fool Paul had been to let a woman like this get away. Who in his 
right, mind would willingly divorce such a luscious creature? If Paul wasn't 
one miserable man right now then the guy was just plain nuts. 

Never again would he have the chance to run his fingers through Gail's 
silky, shoulder-length auburn tresses, to look deeply into her expressive 
eyes or warm himself by the light of her enchanting smile. Nor would he ever 
again find himself snuggled close to Gail, his maleness aroused by her 
femaleness. Never again would Paul dip his dick into the mushy softness of 
Gail's clasping cunt, or feel her lovely lips sliding sensuously up and down 
and all around his manhood. 

Shit, the man just had to be bananas. If he weren't, then he was a first 
class idiot. 

"What are you thinking about now?" asked Gail, still stroking Jim's hairy 
chest. 

"About you, baby." 

"First you dream about me and now you're thinking about me. You must like me 
or something, huh?" 

Jim grinned. "Very much." 

"That's nice." 

"It's also occurred to me that your ex-husband is a nominee for the booby 
hatch." 

"What? Why do you say that?" 

"He let you walk out, didn't he?" 

Gail chuckled. "He didn't have much choice in the matter, I'm afraid. I just 
made up my mind to leave and then left. And you know me, Jim. Once I've 
decided to act-" 

"You act." 

"Right." 

"But still and all ..." 

"Look, if Paul hadn't driven me to a divorce, you and I might never have 
gotten together, Jim. Ever think of that?" 

"That's true, isn't it?" 

"Uh huh. Now what say we cut out all of this silly chatter and get down to 
business? I didn't tramp a quarter mile just to talk to you about my 
ex-spouse." 

"So why did you come, beautiful?" Jim grinned. 

"As if you didn't know, wise guy." 

"Tell me, baby. Tell me why you came." 

"You, Jim," Gail answered without hesitation. She quickly ran her hand down 
her lover's well-muscled body to his crotch, her fingers curling as she 
cupped his cock and balls through his swimming trunks. "This, my good man, 
is what I came here for." 

Jim winked. "Horny tonight, aren't you?" 

"Are you complaining?" 

"Nope. But I will be if you don't start performing." 

"Performing? What am I, a circus acrobat or something?" 

"You're something, all right," said Jim, unlocking his hands from behind his 
head and bringing them up to Gail's succulent tits, which seemed about to 
burst out of the top half of her canary yellow bikini. "You're a luscious 
piece of tail, that's what." 

"I'll bet you say that to all your girls." 

"Nope." 

"You lie, lover." 

"I do not. It's the truth. Scout's honor." 

"How would the scout like it if I started sucking his prick?" 

"He's like it just fine." 

"Then stop playing with my boobs and let me get to work." 

He laughed and once again placed his hands behind his head, his fingers 
locking together as he stretched on the sand. Gail shuffled back on her 
knees and then reached for Jim's trunks, her fingers digging into the 
waistband as she began tugging the garment down his hips. 

"It's a little like unwrapping a Christmas gift, isn't it, baby?" Jim said, 
a naughty twinkle in his eye. 

"Except I know what's under here," smiled Gail. "I've been given this same 
gift before, haven't I?" 

"And you'll never tire of receiving it, huh?" 

"Never-not in a million years." 

A moment of silence ensued, Gail turning quiet as she concentrated on baring 
Jim's loins. With pussy purring and pulse quickening, the bikini-clad beauty 
unveiled her lover's genitals, her lustrous brown hair swinging lazily 
around her neck and shoulders as she tugged the trunks downward, past Jim's 
knees and then to his feet. 

Then she was flipping the trunks over her shoulder and working herself into 
position between her lover's legs, her smile faintly feral as her eyes fixed 
on the flaccid cock she would soon be chewing on with relish. 

"You're staring, baby," said Jim with a grin, spreading his legs a little 
wider apart. 

"Is there any law against that?" Gail cracked. 

"None that I know of. But you could be taking off your sexy little bikini." 

"Later." 

"Why not now?" 

"Because I have something I want to do first." 

"Like suck a cock, maybe?" 

"Like suck a cock," Gail answered, lifting her gaze from Jim's tempting tool 
to his face. "In fact, I could eat you all up, from head to toe." 

"I look that tasty, huh?" 

"Scrumptious, fella. Just plain scrumptious." 

It was true, Gail thought. Jim did look good enough to eat. He was all man, 
from the top of his head to the tip of his toes, his strong, well-muscled 
body capable of arousing the fiercest lust in all but the most frigid 
female. 

"So, are you just going to study the merchandise, beautiful?" asked Jim. 
"You can touch as well as look, you know." 

Gail smiled a wicked smile. "I intend to do better than that, lover. Hang 
onto your hat, because we're off to the races." 

And with that, her twat twitching now and salivating all over the place, the 
sticky juices seeping from her aroused vagina to dampen the snug crotch of 
her bikini bottoms, Gail positioned herself in servile crouch between Jim's 
legs and made ready to feast on his warm manhood. 

With her left hand she took hold of the limp organ, lifting it off his hairy 
scrotum, inspecting it for a few seconds as she ran her tongue around her 
soft, supple lips. 

And then she was plopping the pale pecker into her eager, moist mouth, a 
soft, wickedly sensual sigh wafting up from her throat as her lovely lips 
closed over the plum-shaped crown. 

Thus began the lewd oral homage. With snake-like grace, Gail's teasing 
tongue coiled around the tasty tool, bathing it with sticky saliva. She 
sucked carefully at first, with something akin to reverence, her velvet-soft 
lips pulling Jim's organ deeper and deeper inside her hungry oral cavity. 

"Ohhhh ..." Jim moaned with pleasure. "Baby, that feels so good. Eat it all 
up, Gail. Suck it, baby." 

Strange slurping sounds emanated from Gail's throat as she labored 
lasciviously. Having taken all of Jim's flaccid organ into her hungry mouth, 
she rolled it around in that moist cove, her tantalizing tongue curling and 
stroking its fleshy fullness as it flip-flopped from side to side. 

The stirring of the fleshy serpent of a prick acted like a cue, a 
deliciously perverse prod. Gail immediately began to suck harder, with 
greater energy, her pursed lips skimming up and down the tasty manhood as it 
continued swelling in her mouth. 

"Mmmm," Jim hummed happily. "That's the way, baby. Gobble it all up. Oh, 
shit, that's so good." 

"Gaaargh ..." Gail moaned around the thickening tool. 

Savoring the feel of Jim's pecker in her hungry mouth, relishing its 
slightly salty taste, the stunning, bikini-clad beauty sucked in earnest, 
her head bobbing up and down over her lover's warm loins as she gobbled up 
the saliva-coated member. 

"Ahh, baby, you do me so good," Jim crooned, tilting his head back and 
closing his eyes, allowing the sweet sensations to flow through his aroused 
body. "Don't stop, Gail. Suck it, baby. Just keep ... sucking!" 

Gail did as directed, not needing Jim's passionate plea for a sustained 
sucking to keep her at her lewd labors. Doggedly, with wicked determination, 
she gobbled up the now almost fully erect pecker, her head in rapid bobbing 
motion as her warm, milking lips vacuumed the tasty tool in her mouth. 

Jim took his hands from under his head and placed his arms at his sides, his 
fingers curling and digging into the soft sand as pleasure swept over him. 
Shit, but she was good at this, he thought dazedly, his mind clouded with 
passion. 

It wasn't only that Gail sucked cock with enthusiasm, with such obvious 
delight, but what put her head and shoulders above the many other capable 
cocksuckers he'd known was her masterful technique, her oral expertise, if 
you will. 

For a full minute more, Gail labored on her fleshy lollipop, the warm, wet 
prick between her pursed lips with a lewd "plopping" sound. 

Holding the blood-thickened cock with her left hand, so that it remained 
more or less perpendicular, jutting straight up from his aroused loins like 
a miniature telephone pole, Gail commenced a lascivious licking of Jim's 
equipment, her talented tongue scurrying here, there, everywhere. 

Now her hard-working tongue trailed down one side of the meaty manhood, 
stretching way out to curl under Jim's heavy scrotal sac. Tilting her head 
and driving her face even deeper between her lover's thighs, Gail commenced 
a tempestuous tonguing of his pendulum. 

"Oh, baby ... baby," Jim moaned, lifting his head to look down at the female 
avidly worshipping his member. "Gail, please ... no more, honey. I'll come 
if you don't-" 

"Wait," Gail breathed hotly. "Just a little more." 

Jim groaned and dropped his head back down onto the sand, knowing that if 
Gail continued this frantic mouthing of his cock and balls much longer he 
would come all over the place. 

Aware of her lover's rampant need to bury his pulsating prick in her mushy 
vagina, Gail quickly put the finishing touches on her work of obscene art. 
Ever so briefly, she sucked on Jim's balls, vacuuming first one and then the 
other into her mouth, her tongue sexily stabbing the warm, excited nuts. 

Then she was pulling away, rubbing the left side of her face with it as her 
tongue trailed over its throbbing fullness again, this time curling 
cunningly under the very sensitive underside, swiping at the coronal ridge. 

"Stop," Jim ordered loudly. "No more, baby. I can't take it any longer." 

"Oh, Jim, I'm so hot for you. So fuckin' hot." 

"C'mon, Gail," said Jim excitedly, the words almost catching in his throat. 
"Get that thing off. I'm going to fuck the hell out of you." 

"Yes, that's what I want. A fucking. A mean, hard, crazy fucking." 

"And that's what you're going to get-in spades. Now hurry it up, dammit." 

Gail hurried. Jumping up to a standing position, she brought her hands 
around and up her back and quickly unclasped the bra half of her bikini. Her 
tits, twin melons of quivering gelatinous flesh, tumbled free as she peeled 
the wispy piece of cloth off her beautiful chest and flipped it onto the 
sand, not far behind Jim's trunks. 

Then, as Jim pushed himself up to a sitting position, his well-sucked prick 
in throbbing readiness, she inserted her thumbs in the elastic waistband of 
the bottoms. Quickly she started pushing the triangle of cotton down her 
legs, working the wickedly tiny covering around and off her shapely hips, 
over her firm, full fanny, pulling the sticky crotch from between her legs. 

Seconds later, Gail was stooping over, balancing first on one leg and then 
the other as she worked the bikini bottoms around and off her feet. Then, 
tossing the flimsy garment aside, a foot or so from her top, she 
straightened up to stand proudly erect, her lush nakedness bathed in the 
moon's warm glow. 

"Gorgeous," Jim murmured. "Simply gorgeous." 

"I think you're gorgeous," Gail said, her voice little more than a whisper 
as she stared down at her lover's throbbing tool. 

"Why didn't we do this fifteen years ago, sis?" 

Gail smiled. "You're always asking that, Jim." 

"We wasted so much time. Why?" 

Gail dropped down to her knees next to her brother. "We were afraid, I 
suppose. Or just plain stupid." 

"Probably a little of both." 

"But we've already started to make up for lost time, Jim. And we have the 
rest of our lives to-" 

"To screw." 

"Yes, to screw. Now do it to me, Jim. You were in such an awful hurry just a 
minute ago." 

Jim grinned. "I'm still in a hurry, sis." 

"Hey, you're forgetting our little agreement, luv. That's twice you've 
slipped up in the past thirty seconds." 

"But we're all alone, out here, Gail. As the song says, there's no one to 
see us or hear us or-" 

"It doesn't matter, Jim," interrupted the very sexy, bare-assed naked 
beauty, placing a hand on her brother's excited manhood. "Why risk getting 
into the habit of identifying our real relationship?" 

"Ah, the hell with what people think. We're entitled to live our lives any 
way we wish." 

"In theory, yes. In practice, well, that's another story. Sexual revolution 
or no, the majority of people in the world still view incest with something 
less than tolerance. So why go looking for trouble when it can be avoided 
easily enough?" 

Jim sighed. "Yeah, I suppose you're right, sis-er, Gail, I mean." 

Gail smiled and shook her head. 

"I'm sorry, I goofed again, didn't I?" 

"You goofed." 

"Forgive me?" 

"On one condition." 

"And what's that?" 

"You promise to never call me 'sis' when we're together. Not even when we're 
out here on the beach at night." 

"I promise, baby. You have my word." 

"And there's one other thing." 

"Another condition?" 

"Uh huh." 

"Okay, let me have it." 

"I'll forgive you, big brother, if you shut up now and fuck the shit out of 
me. Unless, of course, you prefer that I take charge of things and simply 
rape you." 

Jim chuckled. "Get on your back, beautiful. And spread 'em." 

"Now that's what I call a very nice order," smiled Gail. 

Seconds later, her cunt in molten boil, the auburn-haired honey was rolling 
over onto her back and spreading her legs, her arms reaching up for her 
brother in warm, eager welcome. 

Many, many hours could they spend in each other's arms, in wonderfully 
wicked celebration of incest. 

Jim could suck on her snatch until it was raw. 

She could blow him until he begged mercy. 

"Ready to be fucked, sis?" Jim asked, grinning down at Gail. 

"Jim, you promised." 

"Just teasing, beautiful. Now let me hear you ask for it." 

"Give it to me, Jim. I want your cock." 

"My hot, fat, juicy cock?" 

"Fuck me with it," Gail breathed, her fingers digging into her brother's 
shoulders. "Shove it all the way up to my tits." 

"Hard and deep?" 

"Hard and deep. Hurt me with your big prick, you wonderful bastard." 

Jim suddenly turned serious. "You asked for it, luv. One mean fucking coming 
up. Here we goooooo ..." 

 Chapter Two 

One strong, smooth thrust and Jim was buried to the balls in his sultry 
sister's hot, lubricated pussy-his saliva-coated cock sliding wetly, easily, 
into that mushy tunnel of love. He waited a few seconds before moving again, 
his hairy scrotal sac resting up against Gail's crotch as he savored the 
delicious snugness of her gripping cunt. 

"Oh, Jim, that feels so good. Your prick feels so wonderful in me." 

"Better than Paul's ever did?" 

"Much better. Much, much better." 

Jim, delighting his sister's answer, now proceeded with the screw, his 
smooth-stroking manhood stirring Gail's sticky sex juices as he worked it in 
and out of her clutching cunt. He moved easily, gracefully, gently but 
firmly, his buttocks bobbing lazily as he patiently pumped his sister's well 
of desire. 

"Oh, Jim," Gail moaned. "What would I do without you? I love you so much." 

"And I love you, baby. I love your hot, wet, tight little twat." 

"Fuck it, Jim. Fuck my hot, little twat. Make me scream with pleasure." 

Of a mind to do just that, but determined to prolong the excitement for as 
long as possible, thereby delaying the inevitable, Jim Lansing continued 
stroking his turgid tool in and out of his sister's happy love chute. 

"Uummmmm-so good, so good," Gail crooned, drawing her legs up and spreading 
her knees, forming a kind of loose cradle for her attractive brother's 
bobbing middle. 

"There's more, baby. Much more." 

"Faster, Jim. Give it to me faster." 

"Well come too soon," Jim argued, his voice a heated whisper. 

"Then well fuck again. The night is young, Jim." 

"What about Jane and Alice?" 

"To hell with them. They won't miss me." 

"They might." 

"Fuck them. I don't care what they do. Now just ... just slam it to me, 
baby." 

Jim increased the tempo of the incestuous intercourse, not immediately, as 
his sister had requested, but gradually, slowly but surely gathering steam 
until he was punching his bloated bone into Gail's steaming cunt with 
unalloyed vigor. 

"Yes, that's the way," Gail panted. "That's what I like." 

"Tell me how good it feels, baby," Jim rasped. 

"It's wonderful ... great," Gail gasped. "You fuck me so good, Jim." 

In and out Jim worked his cock, plunging forcefully and with determination 
into Gail's quivering cunt, withdrawing until only the bulbous head of his 
pecker remained sheathed in her snug, slippery sex chute. 

"Oh, I love it. Love it, love it, love it." 

"My always randy little sister," Jim cracked, a lewd smile darting across 
his face as he buried his turgid cock yet another time in the slushy warmth 
of Gail's sizzling pussy. 

"My always horny big brother," Gail shot back. 

What a great lay his sister was, Jim thought. Gail was a thousand times 
better in bed, or on the sand, than his soon-to-be ex-wife, Amanda. In six 
years of marriage, Amanda had never once responded with anything remotely 
resembling enthusiasm. He had tried to arouse her. Shit how he had tried. He 
had worked his imagination overtime trying to devise ways of working his 
wife up to a fever pitch, to where she would plead like a nymphomaniac for 
his blood-hardened cock. 

But it had all been to no avail. Nothing he said or did evoked in Amanda the 
kind of uninhibited response every man was entitled to get from his wife. 
The many minutes spent in foreplay, his lips and hands in feverish search 
for a hidden erogenous zone or two, had been wasted. 

Only one thing had he learned during his countless attempts to fire Amanda's 
sex need-and that was that she didn't have any to fire. She was, and would 
always be, as frigid as they come, a lumpen hulk of dead weight with a 
libido about as strong as that possessed by a crippled ant. 

It was going to be good to be free again. Damn good. In just a few months 
the divorce would be final and he could forget about Amanda once and for 
all. She wasn't asking for alimony, so he didn't have to worry about that. 
In fact, Amanda wasn't asking for a thing. She didn't want the house, the 
car, or what little he had managed to put into the savings account. She just 
wanted out. 

And that was beautiful. Once he closed the chapter on that miserable part of 
his life, he could really start to live again. And for starters, on the day 
his divorce from that cold-hearted bitch became final, he would celebrate by 
taking his sister out to a swanky restaurant. A good meal, several potent 
drinks to mark the occasion, and then they'd retire to some out of the way 
spot to fuck the night away. 

"Faster, Jim," Gail pleaded suddenly, her voice thickened by the lust 
running rampant through her. "Give it to me harder ... faster. I'm going ... 
to come." 

This time Jim heeded his sister's urgent plea without delay, rearing back 
and then suddenly sending his powerful prick ripping up into her tingling 
tummy with a particularly brutal thrust. 

"Together, baby. Well come together," Jim husked. 

"Y-Yes. Bang me, Jim. Kill me with your cock." 

"Like this?" 

"Uuugh!" 

"And this?" 

"Owww! Ohhhh ..." 

Out of control now, on the brink of an orgasm she knew would be one of her 
best ever, Gail threw her sleek legs up around her brother's waist and 
squeezed fiercely, her ankles locking together as she wrapped her arms even 
tighter around his back. 

She started spewing filth, the dirtiest words and phrases imaginable sprang 
from her lips in a rush of gutter language. She begged to be fucked with 
ruthless abandon, to be split wide open by the fat, juicy cock already 
savaging her soggy sex chute. 

"N-Now ... come now," Gail cried out suddenly. "Now, Jim!" 

"Grab it, baby," Jim rasped. "Let me feel it." 

Tremors of exquisite pleasure rocked Gail's passion-drenched body as she 
lost herself in the bliss of her mightily orgasm, her smoldering cunt 
releasing a flow of creamy juices around her brother's still pistoning 
pecker. She closed her eyes tight and jerked her head back into the sand, 
the cords of her neck standing out as she let out an animalistic moan of 
intense satisfaction. 

Only when the last of his gooey seed had been deposited in his sister's 
molten love box did Jim roll off her sated body, a loud moan of contentment 
sailing from his throat as he slid over onto his back to lie next to her on 
the cooling sand. 

Together, brother and sister brought themselves back under control, the 
breathing of each gradually returning to normal as the seconds passed. High 
above was the moon, an unblinking beacon in the black sky shining down on 
the incestuous lovers. In the distance could be heard the soft crashing of 
the waves as the ocean lapped the sandy shore. 

"Wow," Gail sighed at last, her voice soft, tender, as she turned her head 
toward her brother. "We really went bananas that time, didn't we, lover?" 

Jim smiled. "You asked for it, didn't you?" 

"And you gave me a good hard fucking, just like I wanted." 

"Ready for a repeat performance?" 

"Right this minute? You must be kidding." 

"Think so?" 

"You are insatiable, aren't you?" said Gail, a grin blossoming on her face. 

"I wasn't until you and I decided to become lovers. It's really all your 
fault, you know." 

"Then I suppose it's up to me to cure you, right?" 

"It'll take a long, long time. In fact, I might have developed a terminal 
case of satyriasis. Maybe there's nothing you can do for me, beautiful." 

Gail chuckled softly. "I can think of a lot of things to do, fella. And 
don't you forget it. And you'd love each and every one of them." 

"I'm not so sure that I want to be cured. Treated, yes, cured, no." 

"Oh, Jim, what a wonderful silly goof you are," said Gail, as she flipped 
onto her left side and snuggled close to her well-built brother. "Promise 
you'll never leave me for another woman. I would just shrivel up and die if 
you ever went away." 

"Can't I even fool around a little?" 

Gail slid her right hand down Jim's stomach and dipped between his legs, her 
fingers curling under his wrinkled scrotal sac. She proceeded to squeeze the 
hairy pouch of flesh, rolling the balls in the palms of her hand. 

Jim smiled. "I guess you're not going to answer that one." 

"Who would you like to fool around with?" asked Gail, unsmilingly. "Alice 
Dalton, perhaps?" 

"Well ..." 

"Come on, Jim, admit it. You'd like to stick your dick up in Alice's pussy, 
wouldn't you?" 

"She has a cute little ass, too," Jim cracked. 

"I've caught you staring at it often enough." 

"Hey, baby, do I detect a spot of jealousy here? I thought Alice was one of 
your best friends." 

"She is," said Gail, "but that doesn't mean I have to like the way she comes 
on whenever you're around." 

"The woman just happens to like me, that's all." 

"She wants to fuck you, Jim, and you know it. Alice has got the hots for 
you." 

"Which brings us back to my original question. Will you permit me the 
pleasure of cooling Alice's simmering cunt?" 

"Does screwing her mean so much to you?" 

"Well, it might prove to be interesting." 

"Then go ahead and lay her. It's probably best if you get it out of your 
system, anyway." 

"You won't hate me if I hump Alice?" 

"No, luv, I won't hate you. I'll just go and find myself a virile young stud 
to screw while you're making out with Alice. I should be able to make 
friends with one of the handsome bucks I see on the beach almost every day." 

Jim grinned. "Now you're trying to make me jealous, huh?" 

"Not at all. But if you can fuck Alice, I can find myself a good-looking 
stud to lay. In case you've forgotten, women's liberation is all the rage 
these days. And I consider myself a liberated lady." 

"So you're entitled, then." 

"Yep, I'm entitled." 

Jim thought for a moment, then said, "Tell you what, if I promise to remain 
faithful to you and not lay Alice, will you promise not to go looking for a 
stud to lay?" 

Gail lifted her head off Jim's shoulder. "Are you putting me on?" 

"Of course not. For some reason or other, the idea of you humping another 
block just doesn't sit well with me. So I suggest we agree to screw only 
each other." 

Gail smiled. "You have yourself a deal, Mr. Lansing." 

"Good. Now there's just one little thing." 

"Uh huh, I thought so. Okay, what gives?" 

"This little agreement of ours prohibits us from messing around, but it 
doesn't mean we can't cast an appreciative eye in the direction of somebody 
we find attractive." 

"In other words, we can look but not touch." 

"Exactly. Is it still a deal?" 

Gail dropped her head back to Jim's shoulder. "Yes, luv, we still have a 
deal. But if I catch you laying Alice as well as looking at her, then-" 

"Then you can fuck the lad of your choice." 

"Right. Fair enough?" 

"Fair enough." 

Almost five minutes of silence had elapsed when Jim questioned Gail as to 
her plans for the future. Did she intend to resume her teaching career this 
fall? Was she going to continue living in the city now that she was 
divorced? 

"Yes," said Gail, answering both questions at the same time. "I know I bitch 
an awful lot about the crumbling school I'm in and the snotty kids they give 
me to teach, but the truth is that I'd probably be miserable if I gave it 
all up. I seem to need the challenge that teaching in the ghetto affords 
me." 

"Sure. Teaching, like the other professions, has its share of problems. But 
there are also rewarding moments." 

"Maybe you should consider teaching as a career, Jim. You like kids, don't 
you?" 

Jim chuckled. "Sure I do. Especially if they're in their late teens and 
enjoy fucking. Blue-eyed blonds with pert posteriors are my favorite." 

"C'mon, Jim, be serious. Why don't you give some thought to becoming a 
teacher? Who knows, you might even wind up being assigned to my school. Now 
wouldn't that be a gas?" 

"We could fuck between classes, huh?" 

"In the supply closets," Gail joked. 

Jim squeezed his sister, then, "No, baby, it's too late for me to consider a 
change of profession. If I was twenty-three instead of thirty-three it might 
be a different story. And besides, I happen to enjoy my work as a free-lance 
photographer." 

"But it's such a precarious existence, Jim. I mean, there certainly isn't a 
helluva lot of security in that profession." 

Jim chuckled. "That's what makes life very interesting." 

"Is that what you told Amanda when she asked for the rent money?" 

"I didn't tell her anything. My soon-to-be ex-mate was never very interested 
in how I made my living. As long as I earned enough to put food on the table 
and pay the rent each month, she was satisfied." 

"That's what I'd call a very undemanding lady." 

"A very dull lady, you mean. Amanda is a self-centered bore with an uncanny 
ability to make a guy feel totally insignificant. I think she actually lives 
for those times when, either by word or deed, she can turn a person off. 
She'd be cold, aloof, and given to periods of long silence that make you 
wonder if she's not ready for the funny farm." 

"Yet, you married her, Jim." 

"A mistake. The worst I've made so far. But I suppose I'm not the first 
bloke to be lured into marriage by the prospect of nights of blissful sex 
with a beautiful woman. If nothing else, Amanda is lovely to look at. But 
how was I to know that she'd turn out to be a dud in bed, that she preferred 
to spend her time in quiet contemplation rather than in bed with her 
husband?" 

"Quiet contemplation?" 

"That's what I said." 

"What does Amanda contemplate about?" 

"Who the hell knows? But there were times toward the end, just before we 
agreed to split, when I came close to shipping her off to a psychiatrist. 
I'd come home from work and find her sitting in the quiet apartment, a 
dreamy expression on her face as if she was remembering something very 
pleasant." 

"Did you ask her what she was thinking about?" 

"Sure. But she refused to tell me and acted as if it were none of my damn 
business." 

"Mmmm, that sounds strange." 

"It is. Amanda is strange. I really think she's cracking up, Gail." 

Gail thought. "I guess as far as Paul and I were concerned, it was a case of 
opposites attracting. I'm an extrovert, a girl who likes to mingle with 
people and laugh with them. Paul is just the opposite. He's the quiet type, 
the intelligent scholar, the kind of man who favors thought to action. He 
dislikes parties, large crowds, preferring to stay home with a good book 
rather than attend a play or a movie." 

"Add to that the fact that he doesn't drink of smoke and you have a verbal 
portrait of a true bore. Maybe Amanda and Paul should get together. Your 
ex-husband and my almost ex-wife almost seem to be made for each other." 

"That's for sure," said Gail. "At least you and I realized that we couldn't 
take them anymore, and in time so that we could make tracks for a more 
enjoyable life." 

"And what a beautiful coincidence it was that we should meet here in 
Southampton-where the two of us had come to lick our respective wounds and 
curse the malevolent god who had chucked us into lousy marriages." 

Gail chuckled. "You're getting awfully poetic all of a sudden, my good man." 

"And horny, too. Can't you tell?" 

"Mmmm, he is starting to grow again, isn't he?" said the fun-loving female 
with the reddish-brown hair. 

"What do you suggest we do about the swelling?" asked Jim. 

"How 'bout if I suck it?" 

"That's not a bad idea at all, but I have one I think you'll like even 
better." 

"Really?" 

"How would it be if I went down on you, beautiful? It's been a while since I 
last tongued your twat." 

"It sure has," Gail smiled. "It's been all of twenty-four hours since you 
last munched on my cunny." 

Jim chuckled. "You came three times last night while I was down there 
between your legs." 

"Let's see if I can do better than that tonight. We'll shoot for four 
orgasms, all right?" 

"I'm game." 

"And if you succeed in making me come four or more times I'll let you stuff 
Mr. Prick inside my bottom. What do you say to that, Mr. Lansing?" 

"I say it's time we got the show on the road. Just the thought of fucking 
your luscious ass turns me on." 

"How many times have you screwed me there, Jim?" 

"Why is that important? What are you doing, keeping a tally sheet?" 

"Could be. You know, of course, that you were the first man to bugger me, 
don't you?" 

"That's what you told me after I reamed your rectum the first time, 
remember?" 

"I remember the pain of that initial corn-holing. Boy, did you break me in 
good that night." 

"It doesn't hurt so much now, does it?" 

"Thank heavens. If I had to go through that again-" 

"You'd retire your fanny from the screwing action and use it only for 
shits." 

"You better believe it," Gail said with a smile. 

Some twenty seconds later, acting on Jim's suggestion, the girl turned over 
onto her back and stretched out on the sand. 

"Ready when you are, luv," she said, maintaining her very vulnerable 
spread-eagled position on the sand. 

"I'm always ready, beautiful," Jim fired back. "I can smell a leaking twat a 
mile away." 

"Am I leaking already?" 

"No, but you will be. You will be." 

"Go ahead and do it, Jim. Suck my cunt raw. Stick that wonderful tongue deep 
inside me. 

"I have to clean you up first, all right?" 

"What?" 

"Your snatch, Gail. It's coated with dry come." 

"Then lick away, lover. Clean me up so that I can get all hot and gooey 
again." 

"Your students should see you now, Miss Lansing. They'd either line up 
behind me or go into shock." 

"Stop talking and start sucking, you clown," a grinning Gail ordered as 
across the screen of her mind there flashed the picture of one Bryon 
Latimer, a black-skinned youth of fifteen, who spent most of his time in 
English 2 leering at her with eyes as piercing as bullets. On more than one 
occasion had Bryon made the kind of wholly indecent proposition usually 
associated with men twice his age. 

Acting immediately on his sister's lewd request, Jim dropped to his knees 
and commenced the feast, his knowing tongue snaking from between his lips to 
brush up and down and all around her odorous nest of crinkly pubic hair. 

"Mmmm, I like that," she crooned and stretching again on the sand as she 
closed her eyes, she made herself even more ready for her brother. 

"You smell ... good down here," Jim noted between licks. 

"That can't be true," Gail smiled directly. "You just like the smell and 
taste of messy, come-drenched cunts." 

"So call me a fetishist." 

"Fetishist." 

"Very funny." 

"I thought so." 

"Well, see what you think of this." With that, as his sister quivered in 
lewd expectation, Jim drilled his hard-working tongue between her glistening 
sex lips and began foraging around in her gooey love hole. 

"OOOoooooo ... that's just great. Just beau-ti-fullll ..." 

"Anything to ... to please," said the licking Jim. 

"More, oh, much more, baby. Hit my clit for me." 

Jim slurped up what was left of his semen in his sister's cunt and then 
zeroed up onto her tender clit, his tongue taking dead aim on that nubbin of 
ultra-sensitive, quick-to-swell flesh. 

"Oh! Oh, shit, I love that," Gail cried out, her hips arching involuntarily 
as Jim attacked her love button. "Lick it, lover. Suck it raw. Ohh!" 

With a skill born of many like-encounters Jim performed his cunning 
cunnilingus, gently licking the clit at first, caressing it expertly, then 
using his tongue as a fleshy whip to last the passion nubbin to a ringing, 
quivering submission. 

"Oh, Jim, you're driving me crazy! It won't ... it won't be long before I 
come." 

"Already?" 

"Y-Yes!" 

Jim smiled inwardly and resumed his feast, his lips again locking onto 
Gail's inflamed sex button as he drew that mini-penis into his mouth and 
tongued it maddeningly, with the unalloyed relish of a man too long denied a 
favorite food. 

"Oh, I'm coming, Jim," a happy Gail announced with a sudden shriek. "I'm 
cominggggg ..." 

"Grab it, baby, grab it!" 

A molten wave of ecstasy washed over Gail as she climaxed, her shapely hips 
once again arching off the sand as her pussy disintegrated into a thousand 
tiny pieces of singed flesh. 

And so as soon as her body had quieted, even before the last tremor of 
pleasure had passed through her, Gail ordered her brother to resume his 
wickedly thrilling cunnilingus, reminding him of her goal of four, and 
possibly more, orgasms. 

Jim jumped right into action, without delay mashing his handsome face 
against his sister's well-licked snatch and once more calling upon his 
talented tongue to do its maddening work. 

Up went that tongue to Gail's quivering, inflamed clitoris-a fleshy serpent 
in eager pursuit of its helpless prey. Some three minutes later, with her 
brother munching merrily on her aroused twat, a passion-dazed Gail was 
announcing climax number two, her guttural moan filling the air around her 
as she sprayed Jim's face with a sticky shower of sex cream. 

Then again, exactly as before, Jim's stacked sister returned to the erotic 
frenzy, her voice lust-charged as she ordered him to suck her now, to make 
her churning cunt a messy mass of frazzled flesh. 

As he feasted like one famished on his sister's hot, snatch, his twirling, 
swirling tongue scooped up her tasty sex syrup, Jim thought of what she had 
said about their bumping into each other in Southampton being such a crazy, 
marvelous coincidence. 

It certainly had been that, he thought. Thanks mainly to his work as a 
photographer, which had him hop-scotching around the country in search of 
exciting, salable pictures, he had managed to visit Gail and Paul only twice 
during the years the two lived together as man and wife. 

But now he was seeing his sister on a daily basis. They were as close now as 
adults as they had been as children. Much closer, really, since at long 
last, after all these years, sex had entered the picture. 

 Chapter Three 

Amanda Lansing turned gracefully into the arms of the man who had escorted 
her into his bedroom. Her hands pressed hard against his back as he tilted 
his head and kissed her warmly, his thick, demanding lips grinding 
sensuously against her soft, supple ones. Eyes closed, she savored the kiss 
and the feel of the tremendously attractive male who, with his hands planted 
firmly on her waist, was rolling her hips into his own. 

One kiss and her head was swimming, Amanda thought. Just one kiss and her 
pussy was purring, the sticky juices starting to seep from her vagina as it 
prepared for the heavenly invasion by a thick, blood-gorged manhood. 

It was just like old times, like those terribly thrilling moments spent with 
this same man before her marriage to Jim Lansing. How easy it had been for 
him to arouse her then. The feel of his strong hands on her body, the glow 
that suffused her when his lips locked to hers, were memories he was 
rekindling now with this passionate kiss. 

He was affecting her now as he had affected her in the good old days, when 
they were lovers. How unbelievably happy he had made her, his presence alone 
filling her, as it was now, with love for the whole wide world. 

How she had missed this man! But now, finally, she could welcome him back 
into her life. 

"Well now," said Walter Cannon with a smile, breaking the kiss, "it appears 
that my little girl hasn't forgotten me after all this time." 

Amanda smiled warmly. "How could I ever forget you, Dad? My happiness 
depends entirely on your being near me." 

"Do you mean that, sweetheart? You're not just saying it to bolster an aging 
man's ego?" 

"You know better than that. And let's have no more talk about your age, all 
right? It's just pure nonsense." 

"Growing old is a sad fact of life, Amanda." 

"Maybe so, Dad. But you're as healthy and virile now, at sixty, as you were 
when you were twenty. Or at least twenty years ago." 

Walter chuckled softly. "I'm still young at heart, anyway." 

"You're ten times the man Jim wilt ever be, Dad," Amanda stated, her voice 
firm, full of conviction. 

"I appreciate your saying that, baby." 

"It happens to be the truth." 

"And where is your husband these days? Still gallivanting all over the 
country, I suppose?" 

"I don't know where Jim is at the moment, Dad. Not that I give a hoot. I 
couldn't care less if I never see him again." 

"In a few months you'll be legally free, is that right?" 

Amanda nodded. "I'm counting the days." 

"I hate to say I told you so, but I did try to warn you about this marriage, 
sweetheart. It was doomed to fail from the very beginning." 

"I thought I loved him, Dad," explained Amanda. "And besides, I had to find 
out if ... if I ..." 

"If you could find happiness with someone other than your father. Don't be 
afraid to admit it, baby. It's only natural that you would want to settle 
down and perhaps raise a family. There's nothing shameful in that." 

"I thought that's what I wanted, Dad. But not anymore. Now I know that I'll 
only be happy if I can spend the rest of my life loving you." 

Walter smiled. "Sweetheart, you don't know how very happy it makes me to 
hear you say that. There were times during your marriage when I became 
convinced that we would never again laugh and love together. When you 
married Jim you simply locked me out of your life." 

"I had to," said Amanda. "I had to give my marriage a chance to work." 

"I think I understand, baby. It would have been difficult for you had I 
remained on the scene." 

"Then you forgive me, Dad?" 

"Of course, my beautiful daughter." 

"And we can resume our relationship?" 

Walter smiled. "Would I be standing here with you in my bedroom if I didn't 
have just such a thing in mind?" 

Amanda smiled a smile that radiated warmth and love. Unable to remember when 
she was last this happy, she wound her arms around her father's back and 
hugged him to her. "Oh, Dad, you'll never know how much you mean to me. I 
must have been out of my mind when I decided to end our beautiful 
relationship and marry Jim." 

"All of that is past history, Amanda," said Walter, stroking his daughter's 
back. "What you and I must do now is make the very most of those moments we 
spend together." 

Amanda loosened her grip on her father and slowly drew away from him. There 
was a faint tremor in her voice when she said, "Kiss me again, Dad. And then 
... then let's make love. I ache for you, Dad." 

Wordlessly, his well-used but still capable pecker beginning to swell within 
the confines of his under shorts, Walter Cannon kissed his 
twenty-six-year-old daughter a second time, planting his thick lips over 
hers as she squirmed sensuously in his gently but firm embrace. 

Many an hour had he spent quietly contemplating this moment, wondering if he 
could ever again find himself in bed with his lovely daughter. He would he 
awake at night and think of her, his heart heavy as he remembered the many 
good times they had shared, the thrilling, tempestuous sex engaged in when 
both were horny as all get out. 

He would try to resign himself to the fact that he had lost Amanda to 
another man, one much younger that himself. One much more virile. And then, 
cursing Jim Lansing his arrogance and ambition, he would finally drift off 
to sleep, only to dream about once again dicking his daughter. 

Although distressed by her decision to terminate their physical 
relationship, one which had taken root soon after the death of his wife, 
when Amanda was but fifteen, he had never given up hope that someday, 
somehow, he and his daughter would find themselves back together, their 
naked bodies pressing close as cock coupled with aroused cunt. 

"Let's get undressed now, Dad," said Amanda excitedly, suddenly breaking the 
kiss and stepping back from her father. "I need to be loved so badly." 

"And I need you, sweetheart. I can't wait to see you naked once again. 
You're such a beautiful woman." 

With pulse pounding and pussy purring Amanda began shedding her clothes, 
removing first the tight-fitting, short-sleeved blue blouse against which 
her breasts strained and then, with fumbling fingers, unzipping the zipper 
at the side of her cream-colored, knee-length skirt. 

Walter began removing his clothes, his eyes not leaving his daughter as he 
slowly peeled out of his beige suit jacket and tossed it onto the seat of a 
straight chair. He took off his tie and then his starched shirt, and put 
these items on the chair with his jacket. 

She was indescribably lovely, he thought, a small smile creeping across his 
large, meaty face as he reached for the belt supporting his trousers while 
his eyes remained fixed on Amanda. His daughter was still blooming, becoming 
more and more desirable with each passing year. 

Her smile, always enchanting, blossomed now on a face with character, a face 
still smooth and unblemished, without imperfections of any kind, but 
delicately marked by experience, by sadness and happiness. Her pretty blue 
eyes, which so perfectly complemented her shoulder-length golden tresses, 
suggested mystery, secrets shrouded in ambiguity and perhaps of a sexual 
nature. 

There was depth to Amanda now. She had grown up emotionally, having suffered 
the anguish of frustration and become aware of the sickening futility of 
certain situations thanks to her disappointing attempt at marriage. And this 
depth, this awareness, served to heighten her physical beauty. 

Amanda was as desirable as her mother had been, perhaps more so. Her breasts 
were firm, full, twin mounds of spongy flesh capped with rose-colored 
nipples encircled by well-defined aureoles of pinkish-brown. Her tummy was 
smooth and flat, her fanny firm and rounded to provocative perfection. 

All in all, from the top of her head to the tip of her pretty toes, his 
daughter was a delight to the eye. 

"Come on, Dad," Amanda said excitedly, looking at her father as she prepared 
to peel off her pantyhose, her thumbs hooking in the elasticized waistband 
of the sheer garment. "I'm almost naked and you haven't gotten your pants 
off yet." 

Walter grinned. "It's just that I can't take my eyes off you, dear. You're 
so lovely." 

"But you can't lay me with your clothes on, Dad," said Amanda, returning the 
grin. 

"True enough, sweetheart. So we'll remedy that just as fast as we can." 

Amanda skimmed out of her pantyhose, kicking off her shoes and then bending 
over as she worked the combination panty and stocking around and off her 
feet. She flipped the pantyhose onto the small, velvety chair in front of 
her vanity, where it joined her blouse and skirt and brassiere. 

Bare-assed naked now, the fire building in her loins beginning to spread to 
all parts of her body, Amanda stood and watched her father in the last 
stages of undress. 

How thrillingly sexy he was, she thought. With his flowing silver-grey hair 
and thick sideburns, his warm, intelligent blue eyes, his round, craggy 
face, he resembled nothing so much as a proud patriarch, a man of strength 
and conviction, the one to whom you went for comfort and counsel. 

Her father was a bear of a man, standing just a shade under six feet, four 
inches in his stocking feet and weighing in at close to two hundred and 
forty pounds. But very little unnecessary fat was there on his powerful 
bulk. He kept himself in excellent physical condition with twice weekly 
workouts in the gym a few blocks from his office and by paying close 
attention to what he took in his still-flat, still-hard stomach. 

He neither smoked nor drank, and the last cardiograms his physician had 
given him had shown his heart to be in perfect working order. Which was very 
nice to know, Amanda realized, since she intended to put some strain on that 
heart by letting her father fuck her whenever and wherever he wanted. 

"There," said Walter, standing now facing his daughter clad only in a smile. 
"Do I pass inspection, dear?" 

"You're beautiful, Dad. Just beautiful." 

"That's a word usually reserved for a woman, isn't it?" 

"Maybe so, but I think you're beautiful. You're the most sexually attractive 
man I've ever known." 

"How many have you known, sweetheart?" 

"Intimately?" 

"Yes." 

A faint blush came to Amanda's cheeks. "Only you and my husband." 

"Then you never cheated on him." 

"I wanted to a few times, but I could never get up the nerve to go looking 
for a man." 

"You could have phoned me, Amanda." 

"I know, Dad. I came very close to doing it, too, but at the last moment I 
would chicken out. I suppose I knew that if we resume our relationship what 
little chance there was of saving my marriage would be destroyed." 

"I see." 

"I know it doesn't make any sense, but I kept hoping and praying that one 
day I'd start responding sexually to my husband. It was when I finally 
realized the hopelessness of the situation that I asked Jim for a divorce. 
It took a number of years but at last it became perfectly clear that no man 
would ever be able to satisfy me as well as my father." 

"I suppose Jim was angered by your inability to respond to his lovemaking." 

Amanda nodded. "He told me I was a cold bitch who would go to her grave 
never having experienced an orgasm." 

"You never told him about us?" 

"No. I knew he would never be able to understand." 

Walter was silent for several long seconds, and then, as a smile appeared on 
his rough-hewn face, "Isn't this silly, sweetheart? Here we are, standing 
and talking when we could be in bed together." He brought his left hand 
around to his now semi-erect manhood, lifting his heavy prize and letting it 
rest in his palm as he offered it up for worship. "Come and see what I have 
for you, Amanda." 

The golden-haired beauty obeyed without hesitation, moving immediately to 
stand directly in front of her powerfully-constructed father. A few seconds 
later she was brushing his hand from his still potent pecker, replacing it 
with her own as she commenced a warm, purposeful massage of the fleshy 
instrument of pleasure. 

"Do you want to suck on it, sweetheart?" asked Walter, knowing in advance 
the answer he would receive. 

"More than anything, Dad. It's been so long since I've had you in my mouth." 

Walter smiled. "Then what are you waiting for? Let me feel those lovely lips 
of yours wrapping around my prick." 

Slowly, obediently, Amanda sank to her knees, positioning herself so that 
her Dad's dick was on a line with her face. This was it, she thought 
happily, the moment she had been waiting for, the opportunity to once again 
take into her mouth the cock she knew for certain she would never be able to 
live without. 

And this was only the beginning, a lusty prelude to the passion that would 
follow. Her cunt, which had started to secret those all-important 
lubricating juices some time ago, was now a sodden mess, fully prepared 
right now to welcome her father's fat tool. And her asshole was beginning to 
twitch in lewd anticipation, as if remembering the many times it had been 
stretched to the limit by that wonderful tool. 

Poor Pop. He was in for a real workout tonight. 

"Go ahead, sweetheart," said Walter, looking down at his kneeling daughter. 
"Suck my cock like a good girl." 

"It looks so delicious, so tasty." 

"It's all yours, Amanda." 

"I've missed it so, Dad." 

And with that, as her father spread his feet a little further apart, 
planting them firmly on the thickly-carpeted floor of his bedroom, Amanda 
commenced her lewd labors. 

In wicked worship of the wand that had worked magic in her cunt so often in 
the past she planted a series of soft, moist kisses on her father's almost 
totally tumescent tool, pecking the pecker, as it were. 

The bulbous crown was blessed first, Amanda moistening it with several 
quick, loving kisses. And then the cock itself was baptized, Amanda's supple 
lips roving up and down the fleshy shaft as she nibbled like a hungry mouse. 
Tilting her head and ducking it under the prick, she anointed the sensitive 
underside, from coronal ridge to hairy base. 

Now she turned her face into her father's scrotum, commenced a blessing of 
his heavy balls with her pecking lips. Seconds later she was licking the 
wrinkled pouch of warm flesh, her talented tongue, seeing service for the 
first time, flicking from between her lips to sexy testicles. 

"Oh, you little devil, you," Walter husked. "You haven't forgotten a thing, 
have you?" 

"It's beautiful, so beautiful," breathed Amanda, slipping into a world of 
her own as she reverently ran her tongue back up her father's swollen 
member, to the plum-shaped head. 

"Suck it now, princess. Gobble it all up." 

Amanda heeded her father's request, but not right away. First she finished 
bathing his bone, a lazy, sensuous swabbing of the cock head preceding 
another trip down the dick, this time to lick and not nibble. 

Around and around swirled her teasing tongue, not missing a millimeter of 
the heavily-veined flesh as it roved about, slithering here and there and 
everywhere like a fleshy serpent in search of shelter. 

Again the scrotum was ministered to, a hungry Amanda mashing her face into 
her father's crotch as her tongue punched and prodded his bag of balls. Then 
she was pursing her lips, sucking one hairy nut into her mouth and rolling 
it around on her tongue, releasing it finally to tend to the other 
saliva-coated testicle. 

Merrily she munched, making an obscene rite of bathing cock and balls, 
inhaling the pungent, exciting aroma emanating from the genital region as 
she slobbered like the slut she wanted to be for her father, the man she 
adored. 

And then, at last, she was ready to suck the dripping wet manhood. She drew 
back a little, her mouth opened wide. A sensuous swivel of her head, a quick 
angling of the cock, and the tasty organ was sliding wetly between her lips, 
filling her mouth with its pulsating fullness. 

"Oh, sweetheart, that feels so good," Walter crooned. "What a wonderful 
little cocksucker you are." 

"Oooommm," Amanda hummed around the prick, her head in lazy bobbing motion 
as she sucked wantonly on her fleshy lollipop. 

It was like going home, she thought. Like returning to a favorite haunt. 
After so many years of doing without, of longing for her father's beautiful 
dong while stagnating in a marriage turned sour, she was once again where 
she belonged, at her father's feet with his thick, blood-hardened cock 
bloating her cheeks and stretching her jaw. 

"Oh, yes, like that, baby," Walter said thickly, placing his hands atop his 
daughter's head, his fingers weaving through her cornflower tresses. "Don't 
stop, Amanda. Suck me, princess. Suck me good." 

Amanda had no intention of stopping, at least not yet. For a while longer 
she wanted to continue paying oral homage to her wonderful father's 
blood-packed, throbbing member, until the time came for her to jump on the 
bed and take the drooling dick in the hole of her father's choice. 

And so she sucked, her beautiful head bobbing rhythmically as she vacuumed 
the pulsating column of flesh deep into her hungry mouth, taking its entire 
length into her oral cavity with amazing ease. 

Saliva leaked from her mouth, dribbling out from the corners of her pursed 
lips to slither around and down the cock she was blowing with obvious 
relish. She was leaking below, too, her golden-haired snatch a hot, pulsing, 
sloppy, salivating thing from which oozed a steady flow of viscous sex 
grease. 

Walter Cannon, his fingers tightening on his daughter's scalp, tossed back 
his large head and emitted a moan of pure pleasure. The feel of her warm, 
soft lips sliding back and forth over his pulsating bone was thrilling him 
no end. 

He had not played the celibate after his sweet daughter married the 
peripatetic photographer, James Lansing. He had no trouble finding nubile 
young ladies to spend an evening with him in his fashionable Sutton Place 
penthouse. 

Some of those who slept with him had been quite good. Beverly Hilton, in 
particularly, had proved herself most adept at pleasing a man. The weekly 
news magazine for which he toiled as Senior Editor had hired the comely 
divorcee as a staff writer. Quickly and without fanfare, Beverly had 
demonstrated her competence as a writer and then, not much later, as an 
imaginative cocksucker. 

But even she paled in comparison to his daughter, Walter thought, looking 
down once again at the female hard at work on his turgid organ. In fact, he 
had yet to meet a woman who sucked cock as well as Amanda. It was as if she 
had been born for the express purpose of administering fantastic blow-jobs. 

For a full five minutes more, Amanda slavishly sucked her Dad's delicious 
dong, her cornflower tresses in lazy swirl about her weaving, bobbing head 
as she feasted like she was famished. Her left hand, which she had dipped 
between her legs, strummed on her sizzling pussy and a finger, sometimes 
two, foraging inside and attacking a very aroused clit. Her right hand 
played with Walter's well-licked scrotum, fingers squeezing that warm, 
pendulous sac. 

And then it was bedtime for Amanda. Her father, unable to take the exquisite 
pleasure for a second longer, ordered her into his king-size bed in a voice 
half-strangled by lust. 

Amanda moved as if propelled by a rocket, springing to her feet and then 
diving headlong into the huge bed, bouncing up like a rubber ball and then, 
in acrobatic fashion, twisting around onto her back to be with legs spread 
in obscene invitation. 

"Oh, Dad, do it to me," she pleaded hotly. "I need a fucking so bad." 

"And you'll get one, my dear," Walter promised, climbing onto the bed. 

"Here, this is where I want it, Dad." 

"In your cunt, baby?" 

"In my cunt," stated Amanda, her voice almost a shout as she savagely 
massaged her aching flesh. 

Unable to resist the temptation, Walter dropped down onto his elbows and 
promptly plastered his face against his beautiful daughter's odorous twat. 
He began licking the tasty triangle of pubic curls, using broad, sweeping 
strokes of his tongue to paint it with saliva. 

"Oh, Dad, oh, that's wonderful. Wonderful!" 

For about a minute Walter laved Amanda's succulent snatch, his daughter 
holding open her sex lips for him as his busy tongue scooped up all the 
syrupy juices flowing from the brimming, molten well of desire. 

And then, straightening up ... 

"Now, Dad, stick it in me. Fuck me hard and fast." 

As her father watched, his drooling dick at the ready, Amanda drew back her 
legs. She hoisted them high and then brought them down, her knees bending, 
mashing into her sensitive breasts. In this obscene position she remained, 
legs up in the air, knees bent back into her aroused tits, pussy arrogantly 
exposed and deliciously vulnerable to penetration. 

Walter grinned a lewd grin. Many a time he had screwed his delightful 
daughter in this position. It was one of her favorites, no doubt because it 
afforded deep penetration. Bent double as she was, her leaking cunt in 
wicked display, Amanda would be able to enjoy every last millimeter of his 
throbbing tool. 

"Please, Dad, do me now. Ram your cock into me. Fuck my cunt like you used 
to, please." 

"Yes," Walter husked. "Yes, my darling." 

Shuffling forward on his knees, adjusting his position slightly, the big, 
burly womanizer prepared to plow his hungry daughter's aching vagina. He 
steered his throbbing member on target, then pushed forward, bracing himself 
on hands and knees as his cock slid smoothly, deeply, inside Amanda's 
viscous sex chute. 

"Ohhh, so good," the golden-tressed lovely crooned. "At last your prick is 
mine again." 

"All yours, princess, all yours." 

"Fuck it, Dad. Fuck it for me." 

Smiling down at his daughter, as she rested the crooks of her knees over his 
meaty shoulders, Walter began pumping his pulsating pecker into her hot, 
mushy womanhood. With strong, sure strokes he reamed Amanda's cunt, his 
prick a fleshy probe as it explored the slushy depths of that bubbling 
cauldron of desire. 

"Never leave me, Dad," Amanda pleaded passionately, hotly hugging her 
father's thrusting tool with her squishy cunt muscles. "Promise you'll love 
only me. Please." 

"I promise," said Walter, in a tone far more paternal. 

And thus father and daughter were once again united. 

 Chapter Four 

Lost in his thoughts, Paul Dover didn't hear the bartender ask if he'd like 
another drink. It was only after the question had been repeated, in a 
somewhat louder voice this time, that Paul lifted his gaze from his 
almost-empty glass. 

"Hey, you feeling all right, buddy?" 

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm sorry, what was it you asked me?" 

The bartender grinned. "I asked if you wanted a refill. You're almost 
empty." 

Paul looked down at his glass. "Oh, yes, of course. Make it another of the 
same, will you?" 

The bartender took the glass Paul pushed toward him and then moved down the 
bar, slowly shaking his head. Weirdo's, he thought. The world was chock-full 
of them. But why did so many of these sickies have to do their drinking in 
his place? 

Paul reached into his suit jacket and from his shirt pocket pulled a pack of 
crumpled cigarettes. He lit one, the cigarette dangling from his lips as he 
flipped the match into a nearby plastic black ashtray and returned the pack 
to his pocket. Then he took a deep drag, a cloud of smoke encircling his 
head as he exhaled. 

His thoughts returned to Gail. How was she doing in Southampton, he 
wondered. How was she getting on as a single woman? What was she doing with 
those two girl friends of hers, Jane Lawrence and Alice Dalton? Having a 
ball, no doubt. 

The three of them were probably living it up out in Southampton, skipping 
like children at play from lover to lover. Gail was free now and could do as 
she wish with whomever she wished. There was certainly nothing holding her 
back. 

In all likelihood his ex-wife was now enjoying the kind of sex she had 
expected from him. Good-looking males abounded in Southampton, especially at 
this time of year. Aging Lotharios, most well-heeled and sophisticated 
sexually, and handsome, virile young bucks flocked to Southampton in the 
summer. 

They were all after the same thing, of course. Sex. 

Like randy dogs, they sniffed after a bitch in heat, their cocks at the 
ready. Quick were they to soothe the ruffled nerves of the divorcee, to cure 
the frustrated wife whose mate showed up only on weekends, to flirt with and 
then fuck the teasing teenage tarts parading on the beach in their 
provocative bikinis. 

"Here ya go, buddy," said the bartender, intruding on Paul's ruminations. 
"Give me a signal when ya want another, huh?" 

"I will, thank you." 

"You sure you're feelin' okay? You don't look so good to me, pal." 

Paul smiled a sad smile. "I'm fine, really, but I thank you for your 
concern." 

"Well, all right. Remember now, if you want more, just give me a whistle." 

"Right, will do." 

The bartender shuffled off and Paul raised the glass to his lips. He took a 
healthy swallow of the scotch and soda, setting the glass back down on the 
pink coaster and shivering as the potent mix slid down his throat and into 
his stomach. 

He would never get used to the stuff, he thought. The taste of booze and 
cigarettes had never appealed to him. So why, then, at the age of 
thirty-one, had he decided to start drinking and smoking? What was he trying 
to prove? That he was every bit the man his ex-wife had accused him of not 
being? 

Yes, that was part of it, a large part. To prove to himself that he could 
behave in a manly fashion. That was the reason. Construction workers, 
athletes, debonair men-about-town, and others like them were not the only 
ones capable of a rousing drunk. Mr. Paul Dover, mild-mannered librarian 
whose greatest passion was for books, poetry, in particular, could also get 
soused when the occasion called for it. 

What was it Gail had said when she announced her decision to file for a 
divorce? Yes, that was it. She had termed him a "milquetoast," a "timid, 
uninteresting, maddening bore," saying that she would no longer tolerate his 
idiotic inhibitions and spineless behavior in bed. 

Paul again picked up his glass, bringing it to his lips and then tilting his 
angular head back as he slugged down some more of the throat-singeing 
liquid. He grimaced and shivered. Then, as if to prove his ex-wife wrong, to 
demonstrate his "manliness" he took another lusty swallow, this time almost 
draining the glass before setting it back down on the bar. 

Stupid. That's what all this was, he thought. He was making an ass of 
himself, a complete, unadulterated ass. 

He would never change. A man didn't just take a long look at himself in the 
mirror and decide then and there to turn his life around. If he was of sound 
mind and possessed reasonable intelligence, he didn't spend his evenings 
perched on a bar stool trying to change his image. It was utterly ludicrous. 

No, it was too late to become something he wasn't, and really didn't want to 
be, Paul realized with more than a touch of bitterness. He was and would 
always be a five foot, eleven-inch, one hundred sixty-five pound librarian, 
a man whose pleasures were intellectual rather than physical, one who kept a 
tight rein on his emotions at all times. 

His hair, presently a musty brown hue, might turn grey as the years slipped 
by, but his eyes would remain cocoa-colored, and his sight would never 
improve to the extent that he could cast aside his glasses. 

And his angular face, rather ordinary by any standards, would not suddenly 
change to the kind of face found on handsome movie stars. Only a serious 
step such as plastic surgery could transform him, possibly, into a glamour 
boy. 

But even that wouldn't help very much. Possible though it was to alter his 
physical appearance, he would never be able to change his mental character. 
Deep down in his gut, where it counted, he would still be mild-mannered Paul 
Dover. 

Or, as Gail would say, "Mr. Meek." 

"Hey, I see you're ready for another," said the bartender, suddenly 
reappearing to stand leaning over the bar. "You want more scotch in it this 
time, friend?" 

"Er, no," Paul said, this thoughts drifting aimlessly. "No, thank you." 

"More soda, then? Maybe I've been makin' them a little too strong for you." 

"No, they were just fine. Really they were." 

The bartender chuckled. "Okay, then, I'll make this one like I did the other 
three." 

"No, please, I don't want any more." 

"You're sure?" 

"Yes." 

"Well, suit yourself. I'm just trying to please you, friend. It isn't often 
that a guy comes in here and orders my best booze, you know. So when one 
does, I like to treat him special." 

"Yes, that's understandable," Paul said softly. 

The bartender studied Paul for a moment, then, with a shrug, turned and 
started down the bar clutching the glass he had taken from his strange 
customer. 

"Oh, wait a second, will you?" 

"You change your mind?" asked the bartender, a small smile on his round face 
as he turned and started back to Paul. 

"No, but can you tell me if you have a pay phone?" 

"Yeah, over there in the corner." 

"Thank you. Oh, here you are. And keep the change." 

The bartender scooped up the twenty from the bar as Paul swiveled off the 
bar stool and made his way toward the telephone hanging on the wall. Seconds 
later he was depositing the bill in his cash register and telling himself 
that in the future he'd be more tolerant of the weirdo's who entered his 
place of business. 

Paul fished a dime from his suit coat and dropped it into the slot. He 
dialed the number and waited, as the phone rang. "Come on, Sally, answer the 
phone," he mumbled into the receiver, wondering what he was going to do if 
his cousin was not at home tonight. 

The phone rang four times, then, finally ... 

"Hello?" 

"Sally, is that you?" 

"Yes. Who's calling, please?" 

"This is Paul, Sally. Your favorite cousin." 

"Oh, Paul, what a nice surprise. I'm sorry I didn't recognize your voice." 

"How are you, Sally?" 

"Just fine, and yourself?" 

"All right." 

"You don't sound all right. In fact, you sound as if you've been drinking, 
Paul." 

"I have-a little." 

"Oh, Paul, didn't we straighten that all out the last time we saw each 
other? You know getting yourself drunk isn't going to solve anything. It 
most certainly isn't going to bring Gail back to you, that's for darn sure." 

"listen, Sally, I was wondering if, that is, if you're not busy tonight-" 

"Do you want to come over, Paul?" 

"Only if you have no other plans, Sally." 

"I have no plans." 

"That's great. I can be at your place in twenty minutes." 

"Where are you know?" 

"Downtown." 

"Where downtown? East Side, West Side?" 

"I'm in a bar in the East Village." 

"Couldn't you have found a nicer place in which to do your drinking?" 

"This isn't a bad place, Sally. It's dark, nice and quiet. You can think in 
a bar like this." 

"That's one of your problems, Paul. You think too much." 

"That's what Gail used to say." 

"It's true. You start drinking and thinking and the next you know you're all 
fouled up. Now put yourself in a cab and get over here pronto." 

Paul smiled. "Thanks, Sally. You're a peach." 

There was a momentary silence at the other end of the line, and then, "You 
can show me how much I'm appreciated when you get here, Paul. If you're up 
to it, that is." 

"I'm not that drunk, Sally." 

"Okay, if you say so. I'll see you shortly. Bye." 

"Bye," said Paul softly. He returned the receiver to its cradle and then 
slowly made his way to the door. On the way out of the bar, which was as 
quiet now as when he had entered an hour and a half earlier, he turned and 
waved to the bartender. 

Once on the street he hailed a cab. He gave the driver his cousin's 
Yorkville address and then settled back to enjoy the ride. He smiled 
inwardly as he recalled the conversation he'd just had with Sally, who, he 
was sure, expected him to show up as drunk as he had been the last time he 
visited her. 

But he wasn't that bad. Although a novice when it came to drinking, he had 
learned, much to his surprise, that it took more than just a few strong 
drinks to put him under the table. He could still function in his present 
state. He could talk rationally. He could think-damn that word-and he was 
capable of making love to his cousin. 

Dear Sally. Kind, understanding Sally. What would he do without her? Being 
with his cousin, talking to her, was always a very pleasant experience. She 
listened when he spoke. She listened patiently, with apparent interest, and 
never uttered the kind of ego-deflating, caustic remark his ex-wife would 
use to stop him short in the middle of a sentence. 

But Sally, of course, was different from Gail. For one thing, she was 
infinitely less demanding, much more willing to make do with what she had at 
her disposal. No one would ever be able to call Sally greedy. 

If it was true that his cousin was not as ravishingly beautiful as his 
ex-wife, it was equally true that Sally was of a more generous nature than 
Gail. Sally enjoyed giving as well as receiving. Gail just liked to receive. 

His cousin was introspective, quiet, as he himself was introspective and 
quiet. They shared an appreciation of the finer things in life, like good 
food, intelligent books, plays which fired the imagination and provoked 
serious thought. 

It was no wonder he loved Sally. They had so much in common. Their likes and 
dislikes were so similar. Neither of them cared much for parties, those 
loud, boisterous affairs where you were swallowed up in the inane chatter of 
people pretending a sophistication that was not there. 

Gail loved excitement. She would go to extremes to create it. The word 
"inhibition" was not in her vocabulary. Anything and everything for kicks, 
was his ex-wife's motto. Let her receive an invitation to a party and she 
was in seventh heaven, her mind spinning crazily trying to decide what to 
wear, as if that was the most important thing in the world. 

And yet, he still loved Gail. He would probably always love her. It was 
crazy, of course, but the fact of the matter was that he loved her terribly, 
with a passion that could only be described as perverse. She had wormed her 
way under his skin, into his blood, and now he was suffering because she had 
cast him aside like a child who abandons a toy that is no longer enjoyable. 

Perverse. Yes, that was the word. He couldn't live with her and he couldn't 
live without her. They were different in so many ways-poles apart, 
really-and yet the thought of having to go the rest of his life without her 
sent shivers up and down his spine. 

Was there any way of getting her back? 

"Here you are, buddy," the cab driver said, jolting Paul's thoughts before 
he had a chance to answer. "That'll be two forty-five." 

Paul gave the driver three dollars, and got out of the cab. 

He climbed the purplish-red stoop at the door of the three-storied apartment 
house. In the foyer before the door which opened to the stairs he scanned 
the directory and pressed the buzzer next to the name, "Swansone." 

"Hi, Paul," a voice said over the speaker. "You made very good time." 

"How did you know it was me, Sally?" 

"I know your buzz, Cuz. Now hurry up here while I start pouring the coffee." 

"On my way, Sally," Paul said. 

His unmarried, thirty-year-old cousin greeted him with a warm smile when he 
arrived at her door. She steered him directly to her small, decorated 
kitchen, providing him with the black coffee she thought he needed. 

The two sat in the kitchen and talked. The conversation turned, as it 
usually did, to the subject of his recent divorce. 

Paul studied Sally as he feigned appreciation of her little lecture, in 
which she reminded him, again, how foolish he was in brooding over the loss 
of his wife. 

Sally, he thought, was an attractive woman. A very attractive woman. She 
wasn't flashy, blatantly beautiful, as was his ex-wife, who liked nothing 
better than to parade around in a skimpy bikini that left almost nothing to 
the imagination. She had her own sex appeal, nevertheless. 

Sally's beauty was subdued, soft and disarming, as gentle as she herself was 
gentle. Her figure, while not as provocative as Gail's, was one that 
commanded second looks. She possessed an eye-appealing, well-molded body 
curved where it should be curved, but her breasts, hips and backside would 
never give a voluptuous starlet any competition. 

Her features were soft, almost delicate, and her straight hair was the color 
of coal. Her eyes, lovely to behold, were twin pools of blue brimming with 
warmth. 

Sally was of average height, standing about five feet, five inches in her 
stocking feet, and her weight was exactly right for a small-boned girl like 
her. When depressed, which was seldom, Sally would go on an eating binge, 
consuming everything in sight for several days until a glance in the mirror 
showed her pot belly, at which time she would start immediately on a diet. 

Why hadn't his sweet cousin ever married, Paul wondered. Surely there were 
men around who would jump at the chance to marry such a fine, decent girl. 
When asked about her single state, Sally would simply shrug and smile, 
explaining that she had yet to meet the man of her dreams. 

He hoped she wouldn't wait much longer to settle down. Thirty wasn't old, of 
course, but neither was it young. Time didn't stand still, and his cousin 
wasn't getting any younger. 

Sally marrying would mean the end of their physical relationship, of that 
there was no doubt. He was positive that his cousin, as generous and as 
helpful as she was, would not take very kindly to his coming around for some 
comforting sex if one day her status changed from single career girl to 
married lady. 

But far more important than his losing Sally's physical love was her 
happiness. As wonderful and as understanding as she was in bed, he would be 
able to survive without their moments of intimacy if he knew she was 
genuinely happy as a wife. 

"Paul, are you listening to me?" asked Sally, interrupting her lecture on 
the idiocy inherent in rehashing on a problem for which there was no 
solution. 

"Of course I am, Sally." 

"I don't believe you. I don't think you've heard a word I've said in the 
last five minutes." 

Paul smiled. "You're wrong there, favorite cousin." 

"I don't think so." 

"You were telling me that what's done is done and that I should get busy 
with a new life." 

"Well, that was the gist of it." Sally looked down at her coffee cup and 
gently shrugged her shoulders. "I suppose you're just tired of listening to 
me tell you what to do. I'm sorry, Paul. I only want-" 

"Hey, don't you start apologizing now," said Paul, reaching across the 
kitchen table and placing a hand on his cousin's arm. "I know you're only 
trying to help and I appreciate it. Believe me, I do." 

Sally looked up. "You mean that?" 

"I certainly do. Without you, Sally, I don't know what I'd do. I'd be lost." 

Sally placed her hand on Paul's arms. "You're really such a nice guy, you 
know that? Gail was a complete fool to leave you." 

Paul smiled sadly. "I thought you just got through chiding me for lamenting 
the past, Sally. What happened can't be undone, and brooding over my divorce 
isn't going to solve a blessed thing. Remember?" 

Sally smiled. "You're absolutely right, Cuz. And I promise to never again 
bore you with a lecture. Who am I to talk about marriage or the dissolution 
of one, anyway? Hell, I've never even gotten close to the altar." 

"How about if you and I move into the bedroom?" said Paul, suddenly wanted 
very much to feel his attractive cousin's warm body pressed against his own. 

"That's an idea," Sally grinned. "I can show you my new wallpaper. I spent 
the better part of last weekend hanging it." 

Paul chuckled softly. He was feeling much better now than when he had 
arrived. But this was always the case whenever he visited his warmhearted, 
understanding cousin, he thought. He could arrive at her place feeling down 
in the dumps, his mind confused, but he'd leave, he'd be his old self again 
thanks to the love that gushed from Sally like water from a fountain. 

"Something tells me you're not very interested in my wallpaper, Mr. Dover." 

"Well, I did have something else in mind." 

"Really?" 

"Really." 

"Now I wonder what it could be." 

"Care for a little hint?" 

"I don't think I need one," answered Sally, patting her cousin's hand. And 
then, as the smile faded from her face, "Come on, we're wasting time, Paul. 
I suddenly feel very uncomfortable sitting here in the kitchen." 

"A bed would be more comfortable, wouldn't it?" 

"Much more comfortable, Cuz." 

Ten minutes later, Paul and Sally were undressed and in the big, double bed, 
their naked bodies pressed against each other in a warm embrace. 

Now, as they kissed and stroked each other, arms and legs entwining as 
passion grew, Paul again realized why he derived so much pleasure from his 
cousin's company. 

One reason he enjoyed being with her was because she was so undemanding. In 
bed or out, she never asked for the impossible. As far as Sally was 
concerned, it was just as important to please as it was to be pleased. 

That's why he felt so comfortable with her. She made him feel like a man, 
like an individual whose feelings and opinions mattered. Perhaps it wasn't 
as deliberate as he had thought it was at times, but on many occasions Gail 
had made him feel as insignificant as a worm, as unworthy of attention as a 
speck of dust on a wall. 

"Would you like me to kiss you now?" Sally suddenly asked, lifting her head 
from Paul's chest to smile down into his face. 

"Only if you want to," answered Paul. 

"Don't I always want to?" 

"Yes, you always want to." 

"All right, then. Just relax and enjoy." 

With that, the need for a nice screw welling within her, Sally began inching 
her way down her cousin's supine form, her body in snake-like slither on the 
bed as she trailed her lips over his hairless chest, down to his flat 
stomach. 

She toyed with his navel for a few seconds, twirling her teasing tongue and 
driving the tip into that wrinkled indentation. And then she was moving on, 
licking, nibbling, kissing, her lips in a sensuous slide down Paul's stomach 
to his genitals. 

Paul tensed, hands clenching at his sides as he awaited the feel of his 
pretty cousin's lips on his organ. 

The wait was not a long one. As a soft sigh escaped her lips, Sally 
commenced a wicked tonguing of Paul's pecker. Up and down and all around she 
licked, her knowing tongue a flashy serpent as it crawled over warm 
genitals. 

A pause now to work herself into a better position, to move from comfortable 
curl at Paul's right side to servile crouch between his spread legs and then 
Sally was resuming her labor, fastidiously laving her cousin's cock and 
hairy scrotum. 

Keeping her hands on the bed, one on either side of Paul's hips, she weaved 
her head over his genitals, her tongue sliding and swirling, sexily scouring 
the pecker soon to be planted within the mushy confines of her soupy snatch. 

"Oh, Sally, that's wonderful," Paul moaned softly. 

"He's beginning to grow, Cuz." 

"In your mouth, Sally. Put it in your mouth now." 

"Mmmm, sounds like a great idea, Paul." 

Still keeping her hands flat on the bed, Sally used her tongue as a scoop to 
lift Paul's slowly-swelling prick from its resting place atop his balls into 
her mouth, working just the plum-shaped crown between her lips as she gently 
began sucking. 

"Oh, that's good," Paul crooned. "Oh, yes, mmmm ..." 

Sally sucked patiently, tenderly, rolling her cousin's pecker around on her 
tongue and savoring its taste. Gradually she worked more of the growing 
organ into her mouth, carefully gobbling it up as it continued to thicken 
like a noodle being boiled. 

Paul's prick was, in truth, not the largest or the most pleasing to the eye 
she had ever sucked. The fact that Sally was kind, considerate, blessed with 
seemingly infinite patience and the willingness to overlook the faults of 
others, in no way mitigated her natural desires. 

To say that Sally was a decent, hard-working woman was not to suggest that 
she ignored the demands of the flesh. She was perfectly normal in that 
respect, revealing a delicious enthusiasm to experiment with various sexual 
acts and positions whenever the urge struck. 

And so it was that many a prick had found its wicked way into Sally's moist 
mouth. And into her cunt. And into her well-rounded rear end. 

"Harder now," Paul said. "Suck it harder, Sally." 

Sally allowed the now almost fully erect cock to slide wetly from between 
her pursed lips. "You like getting blown, don't you, Paul?" 

"I love you for doing it, Sally." 

"Didn't Gail ever suck your prick?" 

"Yes." 

"Was she good at it?" asked Sally between licks, her tongue slithering over 
the sensitive underside of Paul's tool, resting at present up against his 
lower belly. 

"I suppose so. But I was never really able to enjoy it." 

"Why not?" 

"I don't know. Maybe I was afraid of not getting an erection. Or getting one 
and losing it. She was always so disappointed whenever that happened." 

"A woman like that can make a man impotent." 

"Don't talk, Sally. Just suck. Put it back into your mouth like a good 
girl." 

Like a good girl, Sally plunged Paul's pulsating cock back into her mouth, 
this time using her left hand to stuff her mouth with the column of tasty 
meat. Within seconds she was sucking it again, with more abandon this time, 
her head bobbing up and down over her cousin's warm loins as she vacuumed 
the turgid tool deep into her mouth. 

Absolutely no intention did she have of telling Paul that he was not the 
best lover she'd ever known. Never ever would she even hint at the fact that 
she came better when using a dildo than when her cousin's cock was buried in 
her twat. 

Of what importance was it, anyway, she thought. What mattered was that she 
loved Paul and was deeply concerned for his well-being. It was his happiness 
that counted. And if she could make him happy, if she could help restore his 
self-confidence even a little bit by laying for him, then it mattered not if 
she failed to achieve a mind-blowing orgasm. 

After all, she could always consult her little black book and from that 
listing of lovers phone one she knew was highly capable of banging her to 
the stars and back. But Paul, shy and reserved as he was, had only her to 
visit when he was horny or needed his masculinity reaffirmed. 

"Oh, Sally, you're so good to me," Paul breathed, lifting his head off the 
pillow to look down at the pretty female hungrily sucking his swollen 
manhood. 

"Grrrgh-" was Sally's unintelligible reply. 

"Suck it, Sally. Oh, suck it hard!" 

Paul dropped his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes, his mind 
clouding with passion as his wonderful cousin lustily tended to his tool. He 
thought of his ex-wife, of the many times she had flung herself at his 
genitals to commence a deranged, utterly obscene laving of his equipment, 
her lust a fiendish thing as she maniacally slobbered over him. 

But he dispelled the thought quickly, vowing to never again berate himself 
for the failure of his marriage. He wasn't going to let thoughts of his ex 
cast a pall over his every waking moment. He didn't care what happened to 
her. 

He had Sally and that was enough. 

At least for tonight. 

 Chapter Five 

"Jim, where the hell are you?" asked Gail impatiently. 

"I'm just enjoying the view, sweetheart," answered Jim, the sound of 
laughter in his strong voice. "You look downright indecent in that 
position." 

"I'm waiting for you to do something indecent, lover. Now get with it, will 
you?" 

"My, the lady is really randy tonight." 

"And you're in a teasing mood tonight, aren't you, you big lunk?" 

"Be nice, baby, or I won't do a thing but stand here and feast my eyes on 
your ravishing beauty." 

"You won't have any ravishing beauty to feast on if you don't stop fooling 
around and get to work." 

"Oh?" 

"Yes, oh. I'm not going to spend the whole damn night in this uncomfortable 
position." 

"How uncomfortable can it be? I once knew a girl who always fell asleep 
crouched down like that. With her big, beautiful ass sticking in the air." 

"She must have been a contortionist," cracked Gail. 

Jim chuckled. "Not exactly, but you're close. She was with the circus. Her 
specialty was-" 

"Dammit, Jim, will you knock it off? Now are you going to fuck me in the ass 
or not?" 

"Need it that bad, huh?" 

"Grrrrh-sometimes I could clobber you, Jim Lansing." 

Again Jim chuckled, this time louder than before. 

"It's not so damn funny, mister." 

"All right, all right. Don't get yourself all in a huff. Big brother will 
bang your beautiful behind." 

"Don't do me no favor," snapped Gail, pretending to be angrier than she 
really was. "And didn't we agree a hundred times not to refer to each other 
as brother and sister-even when we're alone together?" 

"Sorry, sweetheart. I forgot." 

"You're always forgetting." 

"Well you sometimes slip up, too." 

"All right, never mind," sighed Gail. "Just stop talking and get to work." 

"Fucking you in the ass?" 

"Yes. Fucking me in the ass." 

A grinning Jim, who for the last couple of minutes had been slowly circling 
his sister, enjoying the sight of her naked, obscenely-positioned body from 
various angles, now dropped down behind her, his knees creating concavities 
in the sand as he dug in to dig inside Gail's fabulous fanny. 

"Mmmm, I can't wait to get it inside your ass, baby." 

"I never would have guessed it the way you've been clowning around tonight," 
said Gail, enjoying the feel of her brother's strong hands on her 
provocative posterior, the succulent, shiny roundness of which gleamed under 
the shimmering light of a full moon. 

"I'll have you know there was method to my madness, beautiful lady." 

"What are you talking about?" 

"A popular axiom." 

"What?" 

Jim smiled and said, "Keep a lady waiting for her fanny-fuck and she'll 
enjoy it even more." 

"Says who?" 

"Says everybody." 

"I think you spent too much time in the water today." 

Jim chuckled. "Tell me what you think about this, sweetheart." With the 
middle finger of his right hand he traced the narrow crack of his sister's 
up-thrust behind, stopping when he reached the puckered portal of her small 
anus. 

For several seconds he diddled the hairless ring of flesh, rubbing it with 
the tip of his finger. And then he proceeded to push inside Gail's 
scintillating seat, gently but firmly forcing his thick finger into her dark 
rectum. 

"Oooo," Gail cooed. "I like that, Jim." 

"That doesn't come as any great surprise." 

"Get it in deeper, luv. Shove it in all the way." 

Jim, always eager to oblige a lady, especially one as sexy as his sister, 
heeded Gail's obscene request without delay. Slowly, carefully, he pushed 
his finger deeper inside her beautiful bottom, the devilish digit like a 
fat, crawly worm as it burrowed into a warm, dank shit chute. 

"Yes, like that," said Gail. "Yes-ugghh!" 

"Sorry, baby." 

"That's all right. Wiggle it around now, Jim. Mmmm, that's what I like, 
luv." 

Jim smiled as he twisted and turned his finger in his sister's behind. With 
his left hand he continued caressing Gail's creamy-smooth buttocks, which, 
along with her magnificent breasts, were in striking contrast to the 
well-tanned rest of her. 

Although sunbathing in the nude had become popular in resort areas of 
Europe, it was not yet considered acceptable here in Southampton. And so 
Gail, somewhat to her dismay, had had to keep her bikini in while enjoying 
the rays of the sun, with the result that she was now two-toned, her boobs 
and loins remaining a fleshy hue while the rest of her wore a deep, rich 
tan. 

"Nice-so nice," Gail cooed into the baby blue blanket upon which she had 
obscenely positioned herself. "Stretch me open back there, luv. Get me 
ready." 

"I think you're ready right now," said Jim, methodically pistoning his 
finger in his sister's tingling tail. 

"Then do it to me, Jim. Take your finger out and stick your cock in me." 

"All the way in?" 

"All the way in. As deep as it'll go." 

Jim slowly removed his finger from inside Gail's ass, his pulse quickening 
as he prepared to shove his meaty member into the mucky confines of his 
sister's ass. Fucking her in the ass was a wickedly wonderful experience, as 
enjoyable, if not more so, that stuffing his prick in her syrupy vagina. 

She was so deliciously tight back there. Her rectum gripped his intruding 
manhood with such enthusiasm, as if afraid of losing that thick column of 
pulsating flesh. And it was with perverse pleasure that he listened to her 
whimpers of lust as he rammed her steaming after-passage. 

"C'mon, Jim, I'm waiting. Get it in me, will you?" 

"Reach back and spread your cheeks, baby. Open yourself for me like a good 
girl." 

A faintly feral grin washed across Gail's face as she brought her arms up 
and back, her hands clamping onto the firm, smooth half-moons of her spongy 
buttocks. Helping in this manner, she thought, was marvelously lewd, 
perversely exciting. It provided an extra element of pleasure, a naughty 
nuance of delight. 

"That's the girl. Spread them open for me. Show me your pretty little 
asshole, sweetheart." 

"How's that? Can you see it now?" 

Jim grinned. "It looks good enough to eat." 

"So who's stopping you?" 

"I thought you couldn't wait to have my prick up your ass." 

"I can wait another minute-if you'll get me nice and wet with that tongue of 
yours." 

"You should be ashamed of yourself, Miss Lansing. Only nymphos ask for 
analingus." 

"So maybe you've turned me into a nympho. Now get your face down there, 
lover, before I decide to gas you." 

Jim laughed. "You wouldn't dare." 

"I wouldn't, huh?" 

"I'd have to spank you if you did that." 

"That might be fun, too. We'll have to try that sometime." 

"You are a sex-happy nut," declared Jim, smiling as he maneuvered into 
position to tongue his sister's exposed asshole. 

Seconds later he was lustily bathing that puckered port, his moist tongue a 
slippery, slithering, fleshy snake as it burrowed into Gail's behind. 

"Oh, Jim, that's heavenly. It feels like you're crawling right into me." 

Jim drilled his tongue into his sister's rectum, at the same time whiffing 
the tell-tale odor emanating from her back passage. He pistoned his tongue 
in and out, swirled it around crazily, dug it deep inside the tingling anus, 
all this providing Gail with the kind of outrageously obscene pleasure she 
had discovered since becoming intimate with her imaginative brother. 

And finally, when she could take no more of the delightfully depraved 
sucking and tonguing of her asshole, she told Jim, in a thick guttural voice 
to cease and desist, demanding that he replace tongue with turgid tool. 

Once again Jim wasted no time complying with his gorgeous sister's lewd 
request. Quickly he straightened up and shuffled closer to Gail, his 
swollen, pulsating prick jutting out from his loins and ready to ream a 
hotly gripping rectum. 

"Do it, Jim," Gail begged. "Fuck my fanny to pieces. Hurt me, lover." 

"You're going to get it, sweetheart," Jim promised. "But good!" 

"I want it-I want it so bad." 

Keeping his left hand planted on his sister's left buttock, Jim used his 
right to direct his blood-thickened cock to her small, brown nether hole. 
Again he took note of Gail's wholly obscene, utterly depraved position, 
realizing that only the impotent, the blind and mentally retarded, could 
fail to be stimulated by such a sight. 

There she was, braced on knees and shoulders, the right side of her flushed 
face pressed hotly against the blanket, her shoulder-length auburn tresses 
in disarray about her head. Her arms were drawn back, her hands holding her 
beautiful behind, fingers pressing deeply into the resilient flesh of her 
buttocks as she pried apart those semi-globes to reveal, in all its 
pinkish-brown, hairless loveliness, her delicately formed rear aperture. 

And to add to this, stacking stimulation atop stimulation, was the sound of 
Gail's lust-charged voice as she begged to be banged. 

"Yes-push it in, Jim. Don't be afraid." 

"Okay, baby, okay," breathed Jim excitedly. 

With comparative ease, perhaps because he had stretched his sister's shit 
chute a number of times already, Jim worked his pulsing prick into Gail's 
quivering fanny, the bulbous head of his organ, wedged for a moment between 
her succulent cheeks, pushing through the wrinkled ring of her anus to 
commence its wicked journey. 

Gail moaned with delight when she felt her brother's hard bone slip into her 
ass, its tantalizing thickness stretching her asshole to the limit and 
filling her rectum so deliciously. She felt it moving in her, burrowing 
relentlessly, inexorably, through the muck of her back passage. 

Deeper, ever deeper it went, pushing aside all in its path as it wormed its 
way inside her. It was as if a giant salami was being shoved up her behind, 
Gail thought. As if her ass, in need of support, was being shored up with a 
strong, fleshy beam. 

"Good, baby?" Jim asked, his voice thickened by the lust churning his 
insides. "Is it good?" 

"Wonderful-beautiful," Gail answered in a tremulous sigh. "More, Jim. Give 
me more. Fill my ass with cock." 

Inch after inch of powerful prick crept inside the auburn-haired beauty's 
behind. Although most eager to commence the reaming of his sister's tight, 
clasping rectum, Jim didn't rush things at all. He worked slowly, 
deliberately, steering his meaty member deeper and deeper into Gail's plush 
posterior and savoring the feel of her rectal muscles wrapped around the 
invading pole of flesh. 

And then, finally- 

"Okay, princess, you've got it now?" 

"Is that all of it?" Gail breathed. 

"All of it. Every last fucking inch." 

"Stuffed. My ass is stuffed with hard cock." 

Jim grinned lewdly. "It was always so round and so firm, baby. Now it's so 
fully packed." 

Gail didn't get the meaning of her brother's remark, which to those familiar 
with cigarette advertising of years back, might have brought to mind a 
certain brand of smokes and the slogan employed at one time to sell them. 

Not that it made the least difference. Gail knew all that she had to know. 
Happy was she with the knowledge that a thick, throbbing prick had been 
planted in her backside. Her brother's big, beautiful cock, his fleshy 
turd-stirring ladle, was snugly lodged in her rectum, expanding her and 
spreading a peculiar and yet satisfying mixture of pleasure and pain 
throughout her body. 

She wanted to laugh and cry and shit all at the same time. 

Now, at last, she took her hands from her impaled bottom and brought them 
down to the blanket, cradling her head between her arms as she ordered Jim 
to start moving in her. 

"I'm going to stretch you good this time," Jim promised passionately, 
tightening his grip on his sister's shapely hips. "You'll be shitting bricks 
when I'm through with you." 

"Yes-split me open, Jim. Tear me apart back there." 

"Hang on, baby." 

And with that, his fingers digging into the pliant flesh of Gail's hips, Jim 
started sawing his cock in and out of her beautiful behind. He looked down, 
feasted on the unbelievably exciting sight of his turgid tool coupled with 
his sexy sister's heavenly derriere. 

Her small anus, horribly stretched, gripped his slowly pistoning prick with 
a vengeance, as if a loosening of its hold would mean the loss of that hot, 
throbbing log of flesh. The raw, pink edges of the anus would pull out 
around his cock when he withdrew it from Gail's rectum, and then, on the 
follow-up stroke, when he buried his root again in the mucky shit chute, the 
fleshy flange would curl in, tucking inside Gail's ass. 

"More, Jim. Faster and harder." 

"Don't rush it, baby," Jim rasped. 

"I want it harder, damn you!" 

"All right, all right!" 

Stepping up the pace Jim drilled his powerful pecker into his sister's 
tingling tail, the force of his hard thrust nudging her forward on the 
blanket. 

"That's it. That's what I want. Ram it up to my tits, Jim. Hurt me, baby." 

"Let's hear it, little sister. Tell me how good it is." 

"It's great-wonderful." 

"You love a cock in your ass, don't you?" 

"Yes." 

"A big, fat, juicy cock tearing your shitty ass apart." 

"Y-Yes-oh, shit, yes." 

In and out Jim worked his fleshy spear, pushing his throbbing and now 
shit-flecked manhood deep inside Gail's bottom with a forceful lunge of his 
hips, withdrawing until only the plum-shaped head of his tool was sheathed 
in her wickedly widened anus, and then, with another strong, purposeful 
plunge, burying himself to the balls in her foul bowels. 

"Oh, Jim, you're killing me," Gail whimpered into the blanket, tears of joy 
trickling down her cheeks. "I love it so much. It hurts so good-so fucking 
good-" 

"Wallow in it, sweetheart," Jim husked. "Wallow in it." 

"Harder, Jim. Really rock me, you beautiful bastard." 

"Like this?" 

"Arrgh!" 

"And like this?" 

"Oww! Oooo-" 

"Is that hard enough for you?" 

"More please give me more, make me scream!" 

An animalistic groan tore from Jim's throat as he pulled out all the stops 
and let his sister have it with unmitigated gusto, with a fiendish ferocity 
that bordered on the maniacal. Hungrily, with a feverish determination, he 
slammed his cock as deep as it would go inside Gail's quivering posterior. 

He withdrew quickly and then again boomed his bone up his happy sister's 
seat-a ripping, searing thrust that elicited from Gail a heathenish groan of 
anguish mixed with perverse pleasure. 

Beyond the pale now, oblivious to all save the sizzling fucking of her poor 
fanny, Gail tumbled headfirst into the murky pool of demented delights, 
shrill, Satanic cries of perverted lust interspersed with pathetic whimpers. 

With demented glee she savored each and every rapid thrust of her brother's 
fiery cock, spinning her viciously violated bottom back to hungrily greet 
that plunging pole of flesh as it rocketed up her stretched and aching 
rectum. 

In a split second of lucidity, the ability to reason returning for a 
fleeting moment, she thought of her ex-husband, wondered what he would say 
if he could see her now, at this moment, wallowing in the fantastically 
thrilling, breathtakingly beautiful humiliation of a savage corn-holing. 

Stunned, numbed, struck speechless, that's what Mr. Dover would be should he 
suddenly appear on the scene, Gail thought. He would react with 
incomprehension, disbelief, and then probably faint dead away. 

What fun it would be to see his face! She almost wished he would suddenly 
materialize from behind one of the tall sand dunes surrounding the "passion 
place." It would do him good to see her getting furiously fucked in the ass, 
her body on his phallic, wholly submissive crouch as she surrendered 
shamelessly, with Satanic ecstasy, to this deliciously filthy, gut-jumbling 
plugging of her backside. He just might learn something about what it takes 
to satisfy a woman. 

Thank heavens she was no longer Mrs. Dover. Had she not divorced Paul she 
would have gone through life not knowing the soul-searing joy of a vigorous 
rectum reaming. How wonderful it was to be Miss Gail Lansing again! 

"Soon, baby, soon," Jim panted, his hairy scrotal sac slapping against his 
sister's upturned back side yet another time as he sent his throbbing cock 
trundling into her clammy rectal canal. 

"Yes, come in me, Jim. Fill my ass with cream." 

Jim dug in for the finale, for the fiery finish to this demonic 
derriere-dicking. He pounded his whimpering sister's voluptuous behind with 
all the strength at his command, his rampaging rod running amuck in Gail's 
horribly distended shit chute. 

"Ohh! Ugh! Argh!" the auburn-haired delight grunted, each powerful, 
pulverizing thrust of Jim's mighty manhood scorching her with excruciating 
pleasure-pain. 

He was really giving it to her now, her passion-clouded mind told her. He 
was furiously punishing her ass, his rapidly plunging prick ripping her 
rectum to shreds. The pain-oh, shit, but there was pain! 

But there was also pleasure, strange, evil, fantastically filthy pleasure. 
And it wasn't all physical, either. 

Never in her wildest dreams-certainly not when she was moping through her 
boring, unimaginative marriage-had she considered the possibility of 
deriving pleasure from being humiliated, from the knowledge that she was 
being used, abused, her dirty derriere nothing more than a steaming 
repository for thick, creamy male semen. 

No one had ever told her that a big, throbbing cock shoved up her backside 
would feel so good, that a woman wasn't really a woman until she had 
experienced a ruthless reaming of her after-passage. 

"Now, baby. Now!" 

"Y-Yes. Come in me. Shoot in my ass!" 

A final flurry of bone-cracking thrusts, his shit-flecked battering ram of a 
cock slashing deep into Gail's quivering posterior, and Jim shot his wad. He 
tilted his head back and moaned into the star-studded summer sky, his hands 
holding fast to his sister's hips as he filled her shit chute with gooey 
come. A feverish groan of demented lust burst from Gail's lips when she felt 
Jim's juice stream into her battered behind. She clawed the blanket on 
either side of her head. Her face, contorting with fierce pain, was anything 
but pretty. Spittle trickled from her lower lip and dribbled down her chin. 

When it was over, when the last of his syrupy seed had been unceremoniously 
deposited in Gail's aching rectum, Jim moved to withdraw his now very messy 
manhood from that violated canal. But his sister, coming to her senses, 
stopped him. 

"Yeah," Jim breathed. "Maybe-maybe you're right, baby. I'll let it-let it 
get soft first." 

"Please-it feels so good in me. I-I don't want to lose it, Jim." 

"Did you come, Gail?" 

The auburn-tressed beauty closed her eyes, a dreamy expression creeping over 
her warm, flushed face. "Yes, it was so beautiful, so wonderful." 

Jim smiled. It pleased him to know that he had satisfied his sister, that 
she enjoyed his prick in her ass as much as she enjoyed it in her cunt. 

He looked down at the point of connection. Still breathing hard, he studied 
the grotesque coupling of cock and asshole. Even now, after having humped 
Gail's exciting rear end and satisfied his lust, he could appreciate the 
obscene beauty of their connection. 

His once proud, hotly-throbbing pecker was dwindling in size within the 
humid haven of his sister's shit chute, wilting by degrees, slowly but 
surely returning to its flaccid state to be used, when the need arose, for 
nothing more exciting than the emptying of his bladder. 

Somehow it didn't seem right. 

"I'm going to pull out now, baby," he said at last. 

"All right. Go ahead, Jim." 

Gail emitted a soft, lonely sigh as her brother carefully removed his now 
limp, and badly stained manhood from her sore and aching rectum. Air rushed 
into her bottom to fill the void left by his departing dong. It wasn't, of 
course, the same. 

Jim fell away from his sister and flopped over onto his back next to her. He 
stretched on the sand and tried to work out the cramps in his calves. Gail 
remained in her obscene crouch for a moment, her recently ravaged fanny in 
weak, gentle wave to the moon above. 

It was almost as if she was expecting another murderous ass-fuck. As if 
someone, a man as strong and as virile as her brother would come along soon 
to fiendishly fuck her fanny. All she had to do was remain in this position, 
and perhaps wiggle her behind in lewd invitation to this rectum-ravisher's 
cock. 

Gail finally eased over onto her right side and then onto her back, her legs 
unbending slowly as she stretched out on the sand next to her handsome 
brother. Less than thirty seconds later, unable to remember the last time 
she felt so content, so happy and so much in love, she turned toward Jim and 
snuggled up close to him. 

"That was a good one, baby, wasn't it?" said Jim, slipping an arm under his 
sister's head. 

"I'll be sore for days," Gail smiled. "But it was worth it, right?" 

"Uh huh." 

"Next time I bugger you I'll use some vaseline." 

"Why?" 

"It'll make things easier." 

"For whom?" 

"For the both of us." 

Gail toyed with one of her brother's nipples. "I prefer the use of natural 
lubricants, luv. It's much more fun to have your asshole licked and sucked 
than it is to have it smeared with sticky vaseline." 

Jim chuckled throatily. "Okay, baby, whatever you say. I don't suppose it 
makes all that much difference anyway." 

"How's that?" 

"Because each time I shove my cock up your ass I stretch your rectum a 
little more. Not to mention your anus." 

"So before long I'll be able to take an elephant's dong in my behind, huh?" 

"Well, I don't know about that. Would you settle for the tool of a well-hung 
donkey?" 

Gail giggled. 

"How about a passionate pony?" 

Again Gail laughed. She slid her hand from her brother's hard, hairy chest 
down to his smooth, flat stomach, her eyes lingering on his now dirty noodle 
of a pecker. 

"Maybe a baby gorilla would be more to your liking, sweetheart. Just think 
how good that big, hairy dong would feel crammed balls deep in your 
beautiful ass." 

"I'm afraid I'm rather conventional. I prefer humans to animals-at least 
when it comes to getting screwed in the ass." 

Jim smiled. "I'm kinda glad to hear that. It means you won't someday replace 
me." 

"Never," Gail grinned. 

Jim laughed and was joined by his sister. As their risibility subsided, as a 
comforting silence enveloped them, that Gail, her eyes still on her 
brother's wilted, worry-looking dong, got her idea. 

It was a truly perverse, utterly depraved idea, one which shocked even her 
as she dwelt on it. 

But as it shocked, it also excited. An evil urge to experiment with 
something decidedly, deliriously dissolute-not unlike the urge she had 
experienced just before permitting Jim to fill her fanny chock full of hard, 
pulsating prick-crept stealthily through her. 

It was disgusting, to be sure, Gail mused, as she traced small circles on 
her brother's hard stomach with the middle finger of her right hand. It was 
as loathsome as loathsome could be. It was perversion with a capital P. 

But in that perversity, in that stomach-turning depravity, there was also 
the promise of a most unique pleasure, a very different sort of delight. 

The question was, of course, if she had the nerve to transform thought into 
practice. 

"What are you thinking about, Gail?" asked Jim, his voice sounding louder 
than it actually was in the stillness of the night. "Does your asshole hurt 
a lot?" 

"No, it's not that." 

"Then what is it? You're mulling over something, I know that." 

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." 

"You're not thinking about your ex-husband, are you?" 

"Heavens no." 

"Then what is it dancing around in that head of yours? Come on, out with 
it." 

"Promise you won't laugh?" 

"Is it funny?" 

"Far from it." Sick is what it is, Gail added to herself. 

"Then why would I laugh if it isn't funny?" 

"Well, you might think it's strange-funny, if you know what I mean." 

"No, I don't know what you mean, sweetheart. Now stop all this silliness and 
come clean-otherwise I might just decide to administer that spanking we 
spoke about earlier." 

"Now I'm tempted not to tell you a blessed thing," said Gail, a broad smile 
blanketing her face. 

Jim curled his right hand over his sister's right tit and gave the tender 
nipple a mean pinch. 

"Ouch! That hurt, you big brute." 

"Will you tell me what it is that's on your mind?" 

"Do you intend to beat it out of me?" 

"No. I'll just squeeze it out." With that, Jim grabbed a handful of breast 
and squeezed, his fingers digging deep into the pliant globe of creamy 
flesh. 

"Oww! Stop that, Jim. You're really hurting me, you clown." 

"Going to come clean?" Gail didn't answer. "Well?" 

Jim started squeezing his sister's sensitive boob again, this time twisting 
it out of shape as if he was handling a mound of baker's dough. 

"All right, all right," Gail blurted. "Just stop making like heap big tough 
guy." 

Jim was forced to grin. "Okay, so I'm waiting, sweetheart. Tell big brother 
what's on your mind." 

Gail was quiet for a moment, then, "You've fucked a lot of women in the ass, 
haven't you, Jim?" 

"My share, I suppose. But what has that to do with anything?" 

"Did any of these women want to-well, what I mean is, did any of them go 
down on you?" 

"Sure. Most of them, in fact." 

Gail hesitated ever so briefly, then, "After your cock had been in their 
ass?" 

Now it was Jim's turn to think before speaking. A smile broke across his 
face as he said, "Is that what you'd like to do, sweetheart? Take my messy 
pecker in your mouth?" 

"It's really disgusting, isn't it?" 

"Yes. But also exciting." 

"You mean that?" 

"Of course." 

"You don't think I'm sick in the head or something?" 

"Not at all, baby. Look, you're just now learning what real sexual happiness 
is all about." 

"It's been a summer of sex," quipped Gail. 

"And it's not over yet. There's a whole mess of wonderfully perverse things 
we can try. Your sex education has really just begun." 

Gail smiled. "You make it sound as if I knew absolutely nothing the first 
time we made love." 

"I didn't mean to imply that, baby. What I'm saying, I guess, is that thanks 
to your ex-husband's ineptness in the sack you're only now beginning to 
realize how great sex can be." 

"Thanks to you, luv." 

Jim grinned. "Well, you can just call me Professor Prick." 

"Okay, Professor Prick." 

"So now to get to the business at hand-" 

"Would you like me to do that, Jim?" Gail asked, turning serious, her eyes 
again zeroing in on her brother's limp-as-a-dishrag, dirty pecker. She 
wondered if the smell alone would be enough to start her retching. 

"I'd like it very much." 

"You never answered my question. Did any of the girls you buggered suck it 
after?" 

"You want the truth?" 

"Nothing but." 

"A couple of them did." 

"A couple. Just a couple." 

Jim grinned. "Well, baby, you have to admit that it's not something that 
would appeal to everyone. I'll tell you this, though, the women who did blow 
me after getting themselves royally reamed found it a very novel treat." 

Gail mulled over her brother's last sentence, and then, taking the bull by 
the horns, telling herself that she would never know unless she tried, she 
began working her way down Jim's naked body. Slowly, in snake-like crawl, 
she approached her brother's stained organ, trailing her lips over his 
stomach and expecting any second to whiff the tell-tale odor of the root so 
recently planted with gusto inside her. 

And then came the shout, the cry of surprise, the one word-"Gail!" splitting 
the still night air. 

 Chapter Six 

Jim twisted his head on the sand and at an awkward angle caught sight of the 
figure sliding down the sand dune behind him. 

He had no idea who it was. 

A startled Gail looked up, forgetting in a split second of panic that her 
name had been shouted out and thinking that she and her brother were about 
to be attacked, perhaps murdered, by a demented sadist who roamed the beach 
at night. 

"I'm sorry, Gail," said the shapely intruder, "but I just could not hold my 
tongue for another second. I mean ... well really now, sucking a cock that's 
been in your ass is just too much." 

"Since when did you become Gail's conscience?" asked Jim, not without a 
heavy dose of sarcasm. 

"Doing something like that is just plain filthy. I don't care what anyone 
says." 

"Says you," Jim cracked. 

"Says anybody with a shred of decency, you mean." 

"And I thought you were one of those truly liberated females, Alice." 

"There's a difference between liberated and libertine. A whole lot of 
difference." 

Gail, whose shock had turned to anger, asked, "And just how long have you 
been hiding behind that sand dune, Alice?" 

Alice Dalton grinned. "Long enough." 

"Peeping Jane," Jim said with disgust. 

"What's 'long enough' supposed to mean? One hour, two hours? Or did you 
follow Jim and me here?" 

"Does it really make that much difference exactly how long I've been-" 

"Spying," snapped Jim, breaking in to finish Alice's sentence for her. 

"I wasn't spying. I was ... observing." 

"While hiding behind a sand dune." 

"So?" 

"So you were spying on us. Don't you have anything better to do, Alice?" 

"Maybe that's how she gets her kicks," Gail suggested sarcastically. She 
picked herself up off the sand and stood at Jim's feet glaring at the female 
she had considered, until just this minute, one of her best friends. The 
idea of taking into her mouth her handsome brother's pooped, besmirched 
pecker had been driven into one dark corner of her mind, there to remain, 
undisturbed, for at least the remainder of the night. 

"Now hold on just one minute, you two," said Alice, jamming her hands on her 
hips as anger welled within her. "First of all, you can't come here night 
after night and fuck your brains out and not expect to be caught sooner or 
later." 

"Why not?" asked Jim, getting to his feet to stand next to his sister. She 
sought his hand and he elapsed it. 

"The law of averages, that's why. This isn't a public trysting spot, you 
know." 

"It's a private passion place," Jim smiled, squeezing his sister's hand. 

"A what?" The look on Alice's face was one of sardonic puzzlement. "Never 
mind. You wouldn't understand, Alice." Jim allowed his eyes to roam over the 
well-built woman presently striking a defiant, 
hands-on-hips-feet-spread-pose. As annoyed as he was with her for 
intruding-and just when Gail was about to suck his stained shaft, dammit-he 
had to admit that Miss Alice Dalton, one of the two girls his sister was 
summering with, possessed a face and figure only a total idiot would find 
unattractive. 

The fact was that Alice's well-tanned body, the most pleasing parts of which 
were at the moment snugly encased in a flaming red bikini designed to 
inspire rape, could stiffen a guy's cock in no time at all. 

Alice was a redhead-a natural redhead, if he guessed tight. Her flowing mane 
gently caressed her neck and shoulders and framed a face without 
flaw-unless, of course, you considered flawed a face adorned with a dozen or 
so freckles. Her eyes were the color of emeralds and sparkled just as 
brightly. 

Her breasts, while not especially large, protruded proudly from her chest. 
They were tempting tits, twin globes of gelatinous flesh any man would find 
appealing. Her ass was good, too. It was neither too large nor too small and 
when provocatively sheathed in a bikini-bottom the size of a handkerchief it 
triggered thoughts of buggery. 

Yes, the gal was all right, Jim thought. Nice size tits, flat tummy, 
fuckable fanny, better-than-average legs-all this topped by shimmering 
titian tresses surrounding a face prettily freckled. A bloke really couldn't 
ask for much more. 

Except, perhaps, that she mind her own business. 

"Well, Jim," Gail said, "we may as well end the evening. Will you walk me 
back to the cottage?" 

"Of course." Jim looked at the female whose face and figure he had been 
appraising. "Three is very definitely a crowd." 

"Oh, that is cute," said Alice, smiling. 

"What is? The fact that three is a crowd?" 

Alice chuckled. "Don't be silly, Jim. What's cute is big brother walking 
little sister home." 

Gail and Jim looked at each other. "Of course, the fact that the two of you 
are bare-assed naked does mitigate the cuteness of it all. I mean, just a 
tiny little bit." 

"H-How d-did you find out?" Gail stammered, squeezing Jim's hand tightly. 

"That you and Jim were brother and sister? Easy." 

"How easy?" snapped Jim. 

"Easy easy," quipped Alice, reveling in the moment. "I sort of suspected all 
along that the two of you were enjoying an incestuous affair. The picture 
clinched it. And then, of course, catching you tonight ..." 

"What picture?" asked Gail. "What are you talking about?" 

"The picture I found in the dresser drawer. The one of Jim wearing a 
colorful shirt, Bermuda shorts, and a lei around his neck. It's a real nice 
picture but I liked the inscription on the back even better. It said, "To 
Gail with love, from her favorite brother." That's what I call sweet." 

"So we can add pilfering to peeping," said Jim. "How else do you spend your 
spare time, Alice?" 

"I didn't steal the picture, Jim. I put it right back where I found it." 

"Aren't you the good little girl?" 

Gail stood quietly next to her brother and quickly piece together the parts 
of the little puzzle. The snapshot Alice had found was one Jim had sent her 
from Hawaii last year. She remembered misplacing it, finding it while she 
was packing for her trip to Southampton, and then, for some reason or other, 
deciding to take it along with her. 

She had told Jim about the picture soon after his arrival in Southampton and 
the two of them had enjoyed a good laugh. Then the picture was returned to 
the top drawer of the dresser she shared with Alice and Jane, tucked away 
between four pair of panties. So Alice had indeed come upon the snapshot in 
her drawer ... or to be more precise, in her drawers. 

"I'm not in the habit of stealing other people's property," the 
twenty-six-year-old Alice was explaining. "I just wanted to confirm my 
suspicions." 

"So now you know the truth," said Gail softly. 

Alice grinned. "That I do." 

"What do you intend to do with this new-found knowledge?" Jim asked. "Make 
things unpleasant for Gail and me, I suppose." 

"Why would I want to do a nasty thing like that?" 

"I have no idea, baby. But spreading the word that Gail and I are sister and 
brother would be something you'd probably enjoy." 

"Oh, Jim, for cryin' out loud. What do you think I am, some sort of monster? 
Gail is my friend ... my good friend. I wouldn't hurt her for the world." 

"Do you mean that, Alice?" asked Gail. 

"With all my heart." 

"Then you don't think it's wrong of Jim and I to ... well, you know." 

"Wrong? Hell, I think it's beautiful." 

Once again Jim and Gail looked at each other. 

"Sure, that's what I said. Beautiful." 

"Incest isn't what most people think of when they talk about sexual 
communication," Gail mused aloud. "I mean, a lot of people just wouldn't 
understand about Jim and me." 

"A lot more than you think," said Alice with a smile. "I did a great deal of 
research on the subject of incest after my father and I became intimate." 

Gail's ear perked up. 

"How's that again?" said Jim. 

"Are you putting us on, Alice?" asked Gail. "Did you and your father ... I 
mean, did he actually ..." 

"He actually," grinned Alice, taking a few steps toward Gail and Jim. "As a 
matter of fact, Dad and I still make like the beast with two backs from time 
to time." 

"Well how about that?" said Jim, a smile spreading over his attractive, 
rough-hewn countenance. 

"Incest is not all that uncommon, folks," explained Alice. "In fact, having 
sex with a member of your family is increasing in popularity . In the course 
of my research I read of a girl who started screwing her father when she was 
only eight. Can you believe that?" 

"The kid must have been well-developed for her age," cracked Jim. 

"Well, I'm sure he didn't penetrate her at that age. He probably just 
fondled her and maybe pushed his cock a little way into her fanny. Oh, 
that's right. The article I read did state that at age eight the girl was 
sucking her father." 

"Nothing like breaking them in right." 

"That's the whole point, Jim. By the time this kid was thirteen, she was 
laying her father regularly. They even lived together as man and wife for 
several years ... until the daughter married a wealthy Italian playboy and 
moved to Europe." 

"That's very interesting," said Gail. 

"Sure it is. Only one thing, though." 

"What's that?" 

"Well, reading about that kid messing around with her father when she was 
eight made me feel ... well, backward." 

"Backward?" said Jim. 

Alice nodded, then grinned. "I didn't start sucking my dad until I turned 
thirteen." 

For the first time since Alice's unwelcome arrival on the scene Gail and Jim 
laughed. Relieved of the worry that Alice would make the rest of the summer 
unpleasant for them, they could almost forgive the titian-tressed beauty for 
intruding on them. 

"I'd like to hear some more about this," said Jim. "But I suggest we return 
to the cottage. I suddenly feel, how shall I say, very naked." 

Alice's green eyes twinkled mischievously. "You are naked, my good man. 
Mmmm, are you ever." 

"You can stop what you're thinking, Alice," said Gail with a smile. "The 
rights to Jim's beautiful cock belong to me. Besides, he's a one man woman." 
Jim shrugged. "What can I tell you, Alice? You had better just stick to 
screwing your father." 

"Which I'll be doing before very long, I hope." 

"Oh?" 

"He'll be arriving in Southampton before the week is out. I invited him to 
spend a few days with me before he leaves on a business trip to France." 

"France, huh? It's a beautiful country." 

"When were you there, Jim?" 

"Several years ago." 

"On an assignment for a magazine?" asked Gail. 

Jim grinned. "Let's just say it was combination business and pleasure trip." 

"A guy has to be careful in France," said Alice. "From what I hear the girls 
over there are real lulus. They'll eat a man alive." 

"Balls and all," added Jim, grinning. 

"Well, are we going back to the cottage or not?" asked Gail. "I'm beginning 
to get cold standing here." 

"Yeah, let's go, sis. I'm not exactly warm myself." 

"Don't forget your clothes," said Alice, pointing to a burnt orange bikini 
and a pair of brown swim trunks. 

Jim scooped up the bikini and the trunks. As Alice watched, Gail wiggled 
into the skimpy bikini and Jim donned his trunks. Then the three of them 
started for the cottage, Alice informing her friends that she had another 
surprise in store. 

"I'm not sure I want to be surprised any more tonight," said Gail. 

"This is a nice surprise," explained the redheaded temptress with the 
fuckable body. "It has to do with what we were just discussing." 

"The joys of incest?" asked Jim. 

"Uh huh." 

"I know," Gail grinned. "You're going to tell us that you've also been 
sleeping with your mother, right?" 

Alice laughed. "Wrong, honey. Lesbianism isn't my bag. Give me a strong male 
cock anytime." 

"Then what's the surprise?" asked Jim, steering his sister away from a large 
piece of driftwood poking up through the sand. 

"I think I should let Jane tell you." 

"Jane?" 

"It's really her surprise." 

Alice let it go at that, turning the conversation to, of all things, the 
weather. The trio trekked to the cottage, bursts of laughter occasionally 
interrupting their talk. Gail, curious about the "surprise," made a 
halfhearted attempt to figure out the connection between Jane Fielding and 
incest. By the time she arrived at the cottage she thought she knew what 
Jane was up to. Once inside the comfortable, tastefully-furnished cottage, 
Jim, Gail, and Alice made themselves at home. Jim took a quick look around 
as he deposited his muscular frame in a red bucket chair, this being his 
first time inside the small house his sister was sharing for the summer with 
Alice and Jane. 

"How do you like it, Mr. Lansing?" asked Alice. "Kind of cozy, isn't it?" 

"Yes it is. I like it very much. How did you come by it, anyway?" 

Alice stepped over to the small bar in the corner and set about making four 
screwdrivers. "Maybe Gail had told you that I work in a real estate office 
in the city. Well, it was because I happened to be at my desk at the right 
time that we're all here right now. It was a stroke of luck, I suppose." 

"When the ad to rent this place for the summer came in," Gail explained, 
picking up the story, "Alice phoned me immediately. She said the place 
sounded just perfect for us. So I called Jane right away and got her consent 
to put a deposit on the cottage." 

"You have to react quickly when you find a summer home that you think you'll 
like," added Alice, reaching for the quart container of orange juice nestled 
in a tin of crushed ice. "These places go like hot cakes." 

"It sure beats where I'm staying," said Jim. 

Alice grinned. "And just where are you staying? Gail has been so damned 
mysterious where you're concerned. Jane and I were beginning to think you 
slept on the beach." 

Jim chuckled. "I'm sharing an old, dilapidated house with four other guys. 
The only nice thing about the place is that it's costing me next to nothing. 
Alice put the vodka under the bar and, after quickly stirring each drink, 
set the glasses on a small tray and brought them over to Gail and Jim. Gail, 
who was comfortably ensconced in the black vinyl sofa, took her drink first. 
Then Jim reached for his, asking why it was that Alice had prepared four 
drinks when there were only three people present. 

"You're forgetting about Jane," said Alice. She set the tray down on the 
small, glass-topped table in front of the sofa. "And Janey just loves 
screwdrivers. Ask Gail." 

"But the beautiful blonde in question is not here," argued Jim with a smile. 
"Or is my eyesight failing?" 

"She'll be coming home soon," said Alice, easing herself into the sofa next 
to Gail. "She forgets all about the time when she goes to Wally's." 

"She really loves the place," said Gail, after taking a sip of her drink. 

"What's the attraction?" asked Jim. "Those swinging single spots are all the 
same-lots of noise, lousy drinks, and awash with pretension. There are 
easier ways of getting laid than stuffing yourself into a people-packed 
room." 

"Janey likes the noise," Alice explained. "She likes people." 

"And she likes getting laid," added Gail with a smile. "Even if it means 
trying to find a stud in a place as crowded as Wally's always is." 

Jim shrugged. "Well, to each his own, I suppose." 

"The truth is that Janey has a little problem," said Alice. 

"A problem?" said Gail. "I never knew that. What kind of a problem is it?" 

Alice took a sip of her drink. "It concerns her father." 

"I know," said a grinning Jim. "Jane's problem is that she can't find 
anybody who fucks as well as her father." 

Gail looked at her brother. "I think this whole business of incest is 
clouding your mind, luv." 

"Jim is right, Gail. He hit the nail right on the head." 

"What?" 

"It's true. Like me, Jane has enjoyed a very beautiful relationship with her 
father for many years." 

"Can you beat that? This certainly is a night for revelations. First I learn 
that you and your dad are lovers, and now I find out that Janey and her 
father ... oh, boy, it looks as if we're all the same boat, doesn't it?" 

"Was this the surprise you mentioned down on the beach?" asked Jim. 

Alice nodded. "Part of it. I knew Gail would be surprised to learn that 
Janey too was involved in an incestuous romance." 

"What's the other part?" 

"Of the surprise?" 

"Yes." Alice smiled. "Well, what I did was to contact Jane's father in New 
York and explain the situation to him. It seems they had a pretty bad 
argument just before Jane left for Southampton, with the result that Mr. 
Fielding swore never to lay hands on his daughter again." 

"How did he react to your phoning him, Alice?" asked Gail. 

"Beautifully. He told me he had been just plain miserable since his daughter 
left. He missed her something terrible, he said." 

"And ...?" 

"And he was very quick to accept my invitation to spend a few days here with 
us. Based on my own experience, I know for certain that once they see each 
other and talk things out Jane and her dad will pick up right where they 
left off. I mean, it's obvious that they love each other very much. As much 
as I love my father, and as much as you love Jim." 

"Gee, this place is going to be awfully crowded," said Gail. 

"I'm sorry, honey. I know I should have asked you if it was all right before 
inviting my father and Janey's dad out here. After all, you did contribute 
one third toward the renting of this place. Accept my apologies?" 

"Oh, Alice, don't be silly. I don't mind at all. I mean now that 
everything's out in the open ... well, we'll just be one big happy family." 

"When is Jane's old man arriving?" asked Jim. 

"I expect he'll show up around the time my dad gets here. They may board the 
same train in New York and arrive together. 

"Do they know each other?" 

"Sure. But neither knows that the other is screwing his own daughter." 

"Come again?" 

Alice laughed. "It does get downright confusing, doesn't it?" 

"I'll say." 

"I wanted Janey to tell you the news because she's bubbling over with 
excitement. The idea of getting back with her father has her on cloud nine." 

"So how come she's messing around at Wally's tonight?" asked Jim. "You'd 
think she would want to save something for dear old dad." 

"Don't worry about Miss Fielding," said Alice. "She'll have plenty left over 
for her father. Wouldn't you agree, Gail?" 

Gail smiled. "Janey is our resident nymphomaniac, Jim." 

"Really?" 

"Uh huh." 

A mischievous grin flowered on Jim's face. "I thought that title belonged to 
you, sweetheart." 

Gail laughed. "Oh, you, is that nice thing to say?" 

"I think all three of us could qualify for that title," commented Alice. "We 
all love our cock." 

"A toast to cock," said Gail, raising her glass. "May there always be a hot, 
stiff prick to suck." 

"I'll drink to that," grinned Alice. 

Jim chuckled, took a sip of his screwdriver, and then suggested a second 
toast. "To pussies everywhere," he said. "May they always wet and hot." 

"Let us not forget the asshole," grinned Alice. "Breathes there a female 
with soul so dead who hath not to her favorite man at least once said, 
'Baby, fuck my shitty ass?' " 

This brought a laugh from Jim and Gail, both of whom joined the ravishing 
redhead in a toast to assholes well-stretched by thick, throbbing peckers. 
The toast, ludicrous though it was, had special significance for Gail, since 
less than two hours ago her shit chute had enjoyed a riotous reaming, a fact 
brought to mind not only by the toast but also by her aching anus. 

The conversation then turned to Jim's work as a free-lance photographer. 
Alice wanted to know some of the places, he had visited in his travels 
around the world. For her part, Gail was beginning to think of Alice's 
intrusion on the beach as a blessing in disguise. 

It was much better, she realized, now that everything was out in the open. 
No longer would she have to shroud her brother in mystery and he about her 
deep love for him. Now she could share him with her close friends and not 
conceal her pride when they revealed a liking for him. 

By the time Jane Fielding arrived, her spirits as high as when she'd left 
Wally's, perhaps higher, the trio had downed three screwdrivers apiece. Jim, 
Gail, and Alice were by no means drunk, however. What they were was 
pleasantly high, the drinks having lulled them into a sweet euphoria 
conducive to the affectionate acceptance of all manner of things. 

It was Alice who quickly briefed the twenty-eight-year-old secretary on what 
had transpired in her absence. Jane said she minded not at all that Alice 
had 'spilled the beans,' so to speak. She was not really very surprised when 
what she had suspected about Gail and Jim was confirmed, Alice having told 
her about the picture she had found in the dresser drawer belonging to Gail. 

"Personally," said Jane, "I think a deep, abiding love between a brother and 
sister is simply beautiful. If I had had an older brother to love, I might 
not have gotten involved with my father." 

"No reason you couldn't have loved them both," said Jim. 

"Gee, that's right too, isn't it? My pleasure would then have been doubled." 

Not the smartest girl in the world, Jim thought, cradling his glass in his 
hands as he studied the blue-eyed, baby-faced blonde rocking slowly back and 
forth in the wicker chair across from him. You had to spend but a few 
minutes with Jane to realize that her mental capabilities were not the 
highest. 

On the other hand, Jane was not the dumbest broad he had ever bumped into. 
There was also no denying the fact that beauty had a nice way of 
compensating for what a girl lacked in her head. If given a choice, most 
guys would choose the woman with the lust-provoking body and healthy sexual 
appetite over the one whose hobby was collecting ancient manuscripts penned 
in Arabic. 

And Jane, or Janey as she liked to be called, was beautiful. Not in the 
classic sense of the word, not movie star beautiful or elegant beautiful. 
Janey's appeal revolved around her compact little body and the child-like 
charm she exuded. 

She was short, about five foot three or four, but her body was magnificently 
well-proportioned. She was a cuddly doll, a blue-eyed, golden-haired pixie 
most men wouldn't mind playing with all night. Her face, clear-complexioned 
was more round than oval, and there were times when her moist lips would 
turn down at the corners in a pretty pout. 

"So then," Alice said during a lull in the conversation, "how shall we end 
this night of revelations, as Gail has termed it?" 

"I suggest something sexy," bubbled Janey. "Like what for instance?" asked 
Jim. 

"Oh, I don't know. I'm sure we can think of something." 

"We could have an orgy," Alice suggested. 

"Three girls and one man?" said Jim. "Hell, I'm not made of steel, you 
know." He turned to smile at his sister. "Besides, I've already had enough 
great sex for one night." 

Gail returned the smile, and then "Maybe we should just turn in. It must be 
three or four o'clock in the morning." 

"Four-fifteen to be exact," Janey informed the others, glancing at her large 
wrist watch. 

"That is late, isn't it?" said Alice. "I suppose we should turn in. 
Tomorrow-I mean, today, is another day." 

"But I'm still wide awake," argued Janey. 

You're always wide awake," grinned Gail. 

"Her enthusiasm and energy can sometimes be revolting," Alice noted with a 
smile. "But we love her anyway." 

"C'mon, somebody think of something. There must be some sexy way of ending 
this evening." 

Jim grinned at Janey. "Hugging a fluffy pillow is about the sexiest thing I 
can think of at the moment." 

The perky little blonde thought for a moment, then "I know, we can all kiss 
Jim good night." 

"Is that the most exciting thing you-" 

"Hey," Jim interrupted, feigning hurt, "I resent that." 

Alice grinned. "No offense intended, Jim. I just thought Janey would come up 
with something a bit more daring than a kiss on the lips." 

"Who said anything about a kiss on the lips?" asked the bubbly blonde. She 
looked across at Jim and winked. "My target is several feet down from Jim's 
lips." 

Alice glanced at Gail. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" 

Gail nodded, faint blush coming to her cheeks. 

Jim suddenly caught on and emitted a chuckle. 

"Hey, what gives?" asked Janey. "Don't tell me you two don't like the idea 
of kissing Jim's prick." 

"Janey, baby, there's something you should know," said Alice. The blonde 
doll giggled. "Jim's prick is too big to fit in a girl's mouth, right?" 

"Wrong." 

"He has no prick?" 

"C'mon', Janey, act your age," Alice instructed her wacky friend with a 
smile. "Now the thing of it is ..." 

Alice explained to Janey how she had come upon Jim and Gail while the two 
were engaging in anal sex. 

"So you're saying that Jim's pecker is-" 

"Exactly." 

"Oh." 

"Takes the edge off your idea, doesn't it, sweetie?" 

Janey thought for a moment and then, brightening, "Well, the problem is 
easily solved. He can just wash up." 

"I'm too bushed to bathe," said Jim, smiling at Janey. 

"Even for a blow-job." 

Janey gave the matter further thought, refusing to be stymied. Finally, 
"Well, it really doesn't make that much difference to me. I've sucked my 
father's cock after it's been in my behind." 

"Oh, Janey," Alice groaned. 

"There's nothing so awful about that, Alice. I mean, just because you find 
the idea repulsive doesn't mean there aren't some girls who might find it 
interesting. What do you think, Gail?" 

Gail smiled. "I think maybe we should change the subject." 

Alice looked at her auburn-haired friend. "Is this the same woman who was 
about to suck Jim's dirty dick when I appeared on the scene?" 

"Oh, so you've done, too," beamed Janey. 

Gail shook her head. "I was stopped at the last moment by Miss Duncan here. 
She thought she was saving me from a fate worse than death." 

"It's just like sucking a clean cock," explained Janey. "Once you get 
accustomed to the taste, that is." 

"Ugh!" Alice exclaimed. 

Janey grinned. "Shall we have at it, Gail? What do you say?" 

"Well ..." 

"C'mon', Gail. It'll be a blast. We can both go down on Jim at the same 
time." 

Gail looked at her brother, who smiled and shrugged his shoulders as if to 
say it was up to her. Whatever she wanted to do was all right with him. 
"Well, why not?" said the stunning divorcee at last. "Now is just as good a 
time as any to try something different." 

"Great! Jim, stand up and take down your trunks. Show me the meat I'll be 
eating, handsome." 

"I'll go make some drinks," said Alice. 

She got up from the sofa. 

"You two are gonna need a mouthwash ..." 

 Chapter Seven 

Kenneth Dalton smiled approvingly as his titian-tressed daughter peeled out 
of her provocative bikini. It was good to see her again, he thought. Damn 
good. 

He had spent much of the train ride to Southhampton in exciting 
contemplation of the moment when she would bare her beautiful body for his 
roving eyes. No matter how many times he feasted on her lovely nakedness he 
would never tire of the sight. 

"Glad now that you decided to accept my invitation?" asked Alice, casting a 
faintly wicked smile in her father's direction as she skimmed out of her 
bikini-bottoms. 

"What do you think, sweetheart? Ever since you called I've been looking 
forward to this moment." 

"Have you thought of a lot of delicious things to do to me, Dad?" 

"Dozens," answered Kenneth with a smile. 

Naked now, wearing nothing but a lewd grin, Alice walked to her 
distinguished-looking father and handed him the skimpy bikini she had just 
taken off. 

"What's this for, baby?" 

"You can keep it as a souvenir of your visit to Southampton," explained 
Alice. 

"How nice. Maybe I should hang it on a wall in my apartment. My business 
associates would get a kick out of seeing this next to the Picasso." 

Alice chuckled. "It would be different, wouldn't it?" 

"It would be a work of art if it was hanging on my wall with you in it." 

"Thank you, Dad. That's the nicest compliment I've received all summer." 

"I find that a little hard to believe, sweetheart. In fact, I'm sure that 
more than one young man has found you completely irresistible in this-this 
sinfully skimpy outfit." 

Again Alice laughed. "It's a teeny-weeny yellow polka-dot bikini, Dad. You 
know, like one a song was written about back in the fifties. Or was it the 
early sixties?" 

"Don't ask me, sugar. My tastes run more to the classical." 

Alice winked. "I'm not classical." 

"Oh yes you are, my dear. You're a classic beauty." 

"Daddy's favorite work of art?" 

"His most valued possession." 

Alice's heart filled with love for her father. She realized once again just 
how fortunate she was to have for a father a man of such kindness and 
warmth, a man so concerned for her happiness and well-being. 

And, of course, one so darn good-looking. 

Her father looked as if he had come directly from Central Casting. He was 
like the aging but still lusciously-attractive matinee idol who, while 
growing old gracefully, albeit reluctantly, managed to retain a youthful, 
vigorous appearance and a sex appeal that still wowed the ladies from 
Sheboygan to Sarasota. 

If anything, her father was becoming even more handsome with the passing 
years. His hair, which he wore long, thick sideburns ending at his ear 
lobes, had suddenly started to gray several years ago. It was now a 
silver-gray, a most attractive color and one that helped create the 
distinguished, man-about-town look most females favored in older men. 

With the exception of his hair, and the addition of some strong age lines on 
his face, which did not detract but lent great character to his countenance, 
her father was the same good-looking physical specimen he had been twenty 
years ago. 

At fifty-eight, he still possessed a strong, trim, athletic figure. He was 
tall, standing six feet two inches, and his weight, which he watched 
carefully, seldom crept over one hundred seventy-five pounds. He looked as 
if he could still hold his own on a tennis court or golf course. Which he 
could. 

"So do I pass inspection, darling daughter?" asked Kenneth, his blue eyes 
brimming with love. 

"Pass inspection?" 

"You're looking at me as if you intended to auction me off to the highest 
bidder." 

"I was admiring you, Dad," Alice explained with a smile. She took the bikini 
from her father and tossed it onto the wicker rocking chair, then stepped in 
close to him and wrapped her arms around his back. "Oh, it's so very good to 
see you again. I've missed you so much, Dad." 

"With all the young bucks you have around here to keep you company?" 

Alice hugged her father tighter. "There aren't as many as you think. 
Besides, they're all so immature." 

"Isn't there one you find attractive and good company?" 

"Just one." 

"And who would that be?" asked Kenneth, stroking his daughter's bare back as 
she held him close, her head resting on his chest. 

"Jim Lansing. You met him when you arrived this morning, remember?" 

"Oh, yes. Devilishly handsome, isn't he?" 

"And also in love." 

"With his sister, Gail." 

"With his sister, Gail," Alice echoed. She drew away from her father and 
looked up into his strong but kind face. "But I don't really care that much, 
Dad. Not as long as I have you." 

Kenneth smiled. "You're an angel, sweetheart. Did you know that?" 

"I should. You keep telling me I am." 

"Because it's the truth. Now how about if I get out of these clothes and we 
repair to the bedroom?" 

Alice grinned. "That's a simply delicious idea. Here, let me help you." 

Thinking how thoughtful it was of Gail and Janey to make themselves scarce 
this afternoon so that she and her father could screw in private, Alice 
proceeded to help her favorite lover remove his clothes. 

As always, her father was impeccably attired, his baby blue suit 
well-creased, his white shirt sparkling, his black shoes shined to a 
mirror-like finish. So it was with care that she assisted in his denuding, 
cautiously tackling the knot in his canary-yellow tie as he slipped out of 
his suit jacket. 

But soon enough the mission was accomplished and Kenneth Dalton, wearing 
only a grin, stood bare-assed naked in front of his succulent redheaded 
daughter. His pecker, of average size but still capable of a strong 
erection, dangled between his legs. 

Alice wasted no time in taking hold of what she had come to crave with a 
passion during the many years of her incestuous affair with her father. 

"How long has it been for you, baby?" asked Kenneth, standing quietly, arms 
at his sides, as his daughter lovingly massaged his flaccid cock and hairy 
scrotal sac. 

"Since I was last laid?" 

Kenneth nodded. 

"About a week." 

"And who was the lucky fellow?" 

"Oh, just some guy I met on the beach." 

"Good-looking, I'll bet." 

Alice shrugged. "I guess you'd call him that. Larry is one of those 
body-building freaks. You know, the kind of guy who thinks having the 
biggest muscles of anyone on the beach is all that really counts. He spends 
most of his time trying to impress the girls with handstands, push-ups, 
somersaults-you know, that kind of silly stuff." 

"It must work," said Kenneth with a small smile. "After all, it got him in 
your panties. Or should I say, in your bikini." 

"Only because I was curious." 

"Curious?" 

"Some girl Larry had fucked told me it would be my loss if I didn't let him 
practice his push-ups on my body." 

Kenneth chuckled and brought his hands up to his daughter's succulent 
breasts. He commenced a loving massage of those gelatinous globes of flesh, 
saying, "And did you enjoy his exercising on top of you?" 

"That's about all he did," answered Alice, feeling her father's pecker begin 
hardening in her hand. "I mean, the egotistical clown has absolutely no 
technique. He just climbed on and started doing his push-ups." 

"Most unsatisfactory for a girl who has come to appreciate the value of a 
good sex technique, correct?" 

"Correct," Alice grinned. "Now let's not talk any more about my sex life 
here in Southampton." 

"You'd like to do something else?" teased Kenneth, trapping his daughter's 
sensitive nipples between his fingers and pinching each playfully. 

"You're darn tootin' I would." 

"And just what would that be, darling daughter?" 

"Something I haven't done for a while-too long a while." 

"I'm afraid I'm still in the dark. You'll have to be more explicit than 
that, my sweet." 

"Okay, Dad. Explicit you want, explicit you get." 

And with that, her copper-colored cunt already purring for a prick, becoming 
wetter and wetter, hot and juicy, Alice sank slowly to her knees in front of 
her father. For a brief moment she studied his thickening organ, her right 
hand squeezing, milking, testing the tool she had first welcomed into her 
vagina at the tender age of thirteen. 

"Shouldn't we do this in the bedroom, Alice. I feel a bit odd standing here 
in the living room without my clothes." 

Alice smiled up at her father. "That's only because you're in a strange 
house, Dad. Everything is unfamiliar." 

"Perhaps. Nevertheless-" 

"No one is going to come barging in, Dad. Gail and Janey have disappeared 
for the afternoon. When we see them next it will be for dinner." 

"That's right. Janey's dad is treating us all to dinner at the Hampton 
Manor, isn't he?" 

"Uh huh. So we have the whole afternoon to ourselves. The invisible 'Do Not 
Disturb' sign is hanging on the front door of the cottage." 

Kenneth smiled down at his kneeling daughter. "All right, I suppose it's all 
right if you fellate me here. But we screw in the bedroom, understand?" 

"Yes, Dad," answered Alice politely. "I blow you here and we fuck in the 
bedroom." 

"It warms a man's heart to have such an obedient child." 

"This is what warms my heart-not to mention other important parts of me." 

A soft sigh, one strong squeeze of her father's prick, and then Alice was 
commencing her lewd labors, her mouth opening wide to accept the tasty tool 
she stuffed inside it. She munched with care on the almost fully erect 
organ, determined to suck it the rest of the way to total tumescence. 

"Ohhh, that's so nice, sugar," crooned Kenneth, placing his hands atop his 
sucking daughter's head. 

"Your cock is nice," declared Alice, taking the organ out of her mouth to 
speak. The compliment rendered, she promptly plopped the prick back inside 
her oral cavity. 

"Suck it, sweetheart. Suck it for your dad." 

It was so wonderful to have her father's manhood back in her mouth, Alice 
thought, her cheeks hollowing and then inflating as she worked skillfully on 
the fleshy column. Now again she could savor its slightly salty taste while 
inhaling the heady aroma of her dad's genitals. 

His was a beautiful cock-no larger than the average prick, but thick and 
strong delicately veined. And very experienced. 

Just how many females had her father fucked, she wondered. How many women 
had thrilled to the feel of her dad's dong scouring their slushy vagina? Or 
reaming their rectum? 

No doubt their number was great. Was there a woman alive who wouldn't 
respond to her father's charm and good looks, his poise and warm 
personality? She doubted it. He was always traveling about on business, 
flying from one country to the next, staying just long enough to complete 
his mission and, she was dead certain, just long enough to get himself 
royally laid by one or maybe two of the more attractive natives. 

She had seen him in action once, at an elegant affair hosted by one of his 
business associates. With dash and extraordinary expertise he went about the 
seduction of a sultry, sloe-eyed brunette, the ravishing wife of a 
millionaire industrialist. Right then and there she bet herself a thousand 
dollars that her father would cap the evening with a fiery fuck of the 
obviously overwhelmed, sexily-gowned woman. 

And she had won her bet. Toward the end of the evening, while on her way to 
the bathroom, she passed one of the large upstairs bedrooms. Hearing what 
she recognized immediately as sounds of passion, tremulous sighs and thick, 
heavy groans, she detoured to the closed door and, opening it quietly, 
peeked inside. 

There on the king-sized bed were her father and the supposedly 
happily-married lady, fucking up a storm. The woman was crouched on elbows 
and knees on the bed, her gown hiked above her waist and her panties and 
panty-hose pushed down to her knees. Behind her, feet planted firmly on the 
thickly-carpet floor, was that seducer extraordinaire, Mr. Kenneth Dalton, 
the cords in his neck standing out as he drilled his rock-hard root into a 
quivering, upturned behind the color of alabaster. 

It was one of her most pleasant memories, Alice thought, continuing to feast 
on her father's now completely rigid rod. 

"Oh, Alice, sweetheart-ohh, your mouth is so good. Suck it, sugar. Eat Dad 
all up." 

The titian-haired eyeful seemed determined to do just that. Hungrily and 
happily she sucked her father's delicious dong, her head bobbing 
rhythmically as her pursed lips slid up and down the slick shaft. 

Every so often she would pull the powerful pecker deep inside her 
saliva-laden oral cavity and then, her eager lips holding the turgid tool in 
vice-like grip, savor the thick, throat-tickling fullness of it as it 
throbbed in her mouth. 

And every so often she would pull the warm, wet prick out of her mouth to 
run her teasing tongue up and down and all around its glistening surface. 
From bulbous crown to tasty testicles she would lick, her tongue a fleshy 
serpent as it slithered over the pulsating column of meat jutting from her 
father's warm loins. 

Then it was back into her mouth with the sticky stalk, Alice's loving lips 
sliding lazy over the head of her dad's dick and then plunging down hard as 
she impaled herself again on the pussy-pleasing pole of flesh. 

Kenneth Dalton stood on quivering legs and wallowed in the perverse pleasure 
of this incestuous fellatio, the feel of his beautiful daughter's lips 
vacuuming his manhood deep inside her mouth thrilling him no end. He looked 
down and through eyes glazed by passion viewed her lewd labors, the sight of 
Alice down there on her knees, hungrily gobbling up his prick, almost as 
exciting as the feel of his weapon bumping against the back of her throat. 

An idea suddenly popped into his head. Adjusting his stance just a little, 
he ordered his daughter to stop sucking his now slippery pecker. Then, 
holding her head in place, cradling it between his large, strong hands, he 
commenced a wicked fucking of her mouth, using her oral cavity as if it were 
a vagina. 

Back and forth he moved his hips, slowly, deliberately, taking pains not to 
hurt his stunning daughter. He was tempted to rear back and with a violent 
forward shove of his hips sent his meaty manhood chugging down Alice's 
throat. 

But that was something one did to a cheap whore, he realized. He certainly 
didn't want to choke his daughter with his thick dick. And so he worked with 
extreme caution, methodically pistoning his bloated bone in and out of 
Alice's mouth and thrilling to the feel of his tool sliding between her 
pursed lips. 

And then finally, as he loosened his grip on Alice's beautiful head- 

"Come on now, sweetheart. Into the bedroom." 

"Do you want me, Dad?" asked Alice, her voice a breathy whisper as she 
looked up at her lustful father. 

"Yes, dear. Very, very much." 

"In what hole, Dad? My cunt?" 

"Yes, baby," Kenneth rasped. "Your hot, wet cunt. Now please, Alice. Get 
into the bedroom." 

"Oh, Dad. Oh, shit, I'm so hot for you. My cunt is burning up." 

And with that, as she gave her Dad's well-washed dong a lusty squeeze, the 
titian-haired beauty bounced to her feet. With her father in close pursuit 
she skipped toward the attractively-decorated bedroom she shared with Gail 
and Jane, her dripping vagina in excited anticipation of a vigorous reaming. 

Once in the bedroom she flopped onto the bed, an acrobatic twist putting her 
flat on her back with her head resting on a pillow. 

For just a moment Kenneth Dalton stood looking down at his ravishing 
daughter, savoring the sight of her there on the bed, legs spread in lewd 
welcome. He was indeed most fortunate, he realized, to have for a daughter a 
girl so lovely, one so willing to return his love. 

"Please, Dad," breathed Alice. "Do it to me. Fuck your daughter silly. Make 
her cry uncle." 

"Baby, oh you sweet little-" Kenneth let his voice trail off as he clambered 
onto the king-size bed. 

"Hurry, Dad. Stick it in me. Stuff me with cock." 

Maneuvering into position between his daughter's legs, Kenneth directed the 
plum-shaped crown of his pulsating prick to her moist, flowering pussy lips. 

"Shove it, Dad. Give it to me. Fuck me!" 

As anxious to get laid now as she could remember ever having been, Alice 
clamped her hands over her father's strong shoulders and breathlessly asked 
for the hard, deep penetration she craved. A deep-throated groan rumbled up 
from her throat and tumbled out of her mouth when she felt her father's 
manhood slide smoothly, easily, into her pulsing vagina. 

"Good, sugar?" Kenneth asked throatily, holding himself in check as he 
hovered over his daughter, his meaty cock imbedded now in her slushy 
womanhood. 

"Beautiful-terrific-" 

"I'm goin' to fuck you now, Alice. Do you hear that, baby?" 

"Y-Yes. Fuck me, Dad. Please fuck me." 

Braced on hands and knees, a lewd smile basking on his face, Kenneth 
commenced the incestuous fuck, withdrawing his sturdy tool until only an 
inch or so was contained in Alice's clasping cunt and then, as she whimpered 
happily, pushing it back inside the heavenly warmth of that mushy cove. 

"Oh, shit, it's so good," Alice crooned. "I love your wonderful cock, Dad." 

"It's yours, sugar. All yours." 

"Harder, Dad. Fuck me harder. Ram it up to my tits. Make me choke on it." 

Kenneth did not oblige his passion-dazed daughter right away, preferring to 
maintain a slow, steady pace and gradually work his way toward the 
mind-bending orgasm he knew would be his when he shot his gooey wad into her 
steaming vagina. 

Slowly, methodically, he pistoned his prick in Alice's sizzling sex chute, 
his buttocks bobbing rhythmically as he thrust, withdrew, thrust and 
withdrew. 

And it occurred to him as he stretched his lovely daughter's cunt, as it had 
in the past, that in his travels around the world in search of good sex he 
had not met a female he enjoyed humping more than Alice. 

She was indeed the apple of her father's eye. 

* * * 

While in the comfortable confines of a cozy cottage the Dalton's enjoyed a 
wicked father-daughter sex session, an equally salacious scene was unfolding 
in a swanky motel several miles away, the cast of characters numbering two, 
Jane Fielding and her father, Laurence Fielding. 

Father and daughter had spent some time trying to decide on the site of 
their "get acquainted screw," as Jane had laughingly put it. In a rented 
Dodge sedan they drove around Southampton, weighing the pros and cons of 
checking into a motel for the afternoon, screwing in the back seat of the 
auto, and finding a secluded spot on the beach where they could bang away in 
broad daylight. 

Had they been so inclined they could have either joined Alice and her father 
in the cottage or waited until the Dalton's relinquished the bedroom. But 
Jane, like Gail, had promised Alice and her father privacy, and she wasn't 
about to break that promise. On the other hand, she didn't want to waste 
much of the afternoon waiting for Jane and her Dad to finish fucking. 

Patience had never been one of Jane's virtues. Furthermore, time was more or 
less of the essence. Her father was not planning on an extended stay. His 
visit would be a short one, a week at the most, and so every moment was very 
important. Put simply, the idea was to squeeze in as many bouts of passion 
as possible in what time they had together. 

Thus it was that they finally opted for the motel, choosing the privacy and 
comfort it would afford them over a clumsy, and rather ridiculous, coupling 
in the back seat of the Dodge or a risky round of sex on the beach under the 
sun. 

With the promise of pleasure spurring them on father and daughter checked 
into the Oceanview Motel, a well-kept if otherwise undistinguished home away 
from home consisting of a dozen individual units. A bespectacled desk clerk 
assigned them unit number four and it was to that clean, sterile try sting 
room they hurried, like lovers of long standing eager to once again thrill 
to the feel of each other's warm, naked body. 

Excitedly they undressed, tossing their clothes about in careless abandon. 
And then they dashed to the bed, Jane giggling like a schoolgirl as she 
turned down the covers and bounced onto the mattress, recently sheathed in a 
stark white sheet. 

Laurence followed close behind, his already rigid rod in pulsating readiness 
as he positioned himself on hands and knees between his daughter's spread 
legs. Then, with predacious glee, a guttural sound rumbling up from his 
throat, he buried his head between Jane's thighs to commence a murderous 
munching of her odorous twat. 

A few minutes later, her lust rising to fever pitch, Jane took on a new 
role, moving excitedly from passive recipient of pleasure to active 
participant. What she wanted, she told her feasting father, was his big, 
beautiful cock in her mouth. 

Which is exactly what she got, Laurence Fielding twisting around on the bed 
until he was straddling his daughter, his head hovering over her steaming 
snatch and his throbbing manhood dangling in front of her face, scant inches 
from her hungry mouth. 

Without hesitation Jane grabbed hold of the pendulous pecker and stuffed it 
inside her oral cavity. As her father dropped his head and resumed his avid 
sucking of her tempting, golden-haired pussy, she started sucking her 
favorite cock, her cheeks puffing and then hollowing as she vacuumed the 
tasty stalk of flesh toward the back of her throat. 

Several minutes of this sizzling sixty-nine and both father and daughter 
were ready for the main meal. 

"Ohhh, shit," Jane groaned, yanking the saliva-coated cock from her mouth. 
"You've got to fuck me now, Dad. Please. I want this damn thing in me." 

Laurence Fielding, ever ready to come to the aid of a lady in distress, 
especially if that lady happened to be his pert daughter, quickly swiveled 
around on the bed and placed himself in proper pussy plowing position 
between Jane's legs. 

He was a well-constructed man of fifty-six whose passion for hot cunt seemed 
to be increasing with the passing years, a fact he could not really 
understand and was not about to question. He was approximately five feet 
eleven inches in height and weighed in at close to one hundred eighty-five, 
which made him somewhat stocky in appearance. 

He was not an exceptionally good-looking man-certainly not as pleasing to 
the eye as was his friend Kenneth Dalton-but in no way could he be termed 
unattractive. His hair, which he kept short, was fawn-colored, his eyes 
hazel, and his smile warm and friendly. 

All in all, Laurence Fielding was rather ordinary. But what set him apart 
from many males, and what he took great pride in, was his 
larger-than-average prick. When fully erect it reached a length of eight 
inches-eight hot, throbbing inches of columnar flesh all of which, on 
numerous occasions, Jane had managed to contain in her itching, twitching 
twat or humid, gripping rectum. 

"Do it to me, please," Jane pleaded now, the taste of her dad's delicious 
dick lingering on her lips like the pleasurable taste of vintage wine. "Bang 
me hard and fast, Dad. Plow me up good." 

"You want it bad, don't you Janey?" asked Laurence, looking down into his 
daughter's passion-twisted face. 

"Y-Yes. I ache for you, Daddy. I need your cock. Give it to me." 

"Turn over, baby." 

"What?" 

"You heard me. Flip over onto your stomach." 

"No, Daddy," Jane whimpered passionately. "I want your cock in my cunt. Give 
it to me, please." She reached down under her father's body and with both 
hands grabbed his magnificent manhood, her whole body quivering in need as 
she attempted to jam the pear-shaped cockhead between her wet, pulsing pussy 
lips. 

Laurence pulled away, drawing up to a kneeling position between his 
daughter's legs. 

"Oh, Daddy, you're awful," Jane whined, pounding the bed with her balled 
fists. "Why do you tease me like this?" 

"I asked you to turn over onto your stomach, Jane," said an unsmiling 
Laurence, his voice firm, authoritative. 

"But I don't want it in my ass now. You can do that later-after you take 
care of my cunt." 

"I can do both at the same time, you know." 

"What? I don't understand." 

"Just get on your stomach, Jane." 

"But I-" 

"Janey." 

"All right, all right. Don't get angry with me. 

Reluctantly the blue-eyed, golden-haired female twisted over onto her 
smooth, flat tummy, her arms wrapping around the pillow supporting her head 
as she squirmed into a comfortable position. Many were the times she had 
thrilled to the feel of her father's big, powerful pecker stirring her 
turds, probing the very depths of her dirty derriere. But this wasn't what 
she wanted right now. 

"Now get up on your hands and knees," Laurence ordered. 

Jane did as directed, pushing herself up off the bed and then assuming an 
all-fours posture. With something akin to sadness she recalled the argument 
she had had with her father just before she left New York with Gail and 
Alice for Southampton. What had triggered the angry verbal exchange, she 
remembered, was her father's tendency to treat her with indifference, as if 
she was little better than a whore he might patronize. 

She loved him dearly, and that he loved her there was no doubt. But there 
were times, like now, when he would hurt her with his attitude, an attitude 
implying that it was her duty to obey him without question, to do as he said 
without argument. 

More often than not he was kind and understanding, a man of considerable 
patience and peace. But once in a while he would slip into a faintly 
sadistic mood and exorcise the demon visiting his soul by treating her 
harshly, with no concern for her feelings. 

It was really a mystery. One she didn't think she'd ever be able to figure 
out. 

"Mmmm, you have a beautiful behind, Jane," said Laurence, running his 
fingers over his daughter's shapely derriere. 

"You've told me that many times, Daddy." 

"So? Can't I tell you again?" 

"Yes. Of course you can." 

Laurence smiled. He traced the cleft of his daughter's provocative fanny 
with the middle finger of his right hand, stopping when he arrived at the 
puckered port of her anus. 

"Daddy, won't you please-" 

"Quiet, girl." 

Jane turned quiet, having learned from experience that it was simply useless 
to argue with her father when he got into one of his strange moods. Nothing 
she might say or do would help matters. If she wanted his fat, juicy cock in 
her cunt, which she did very, very much, as attested to be her 
leaking-like-a-faucet cunt, then she would just have to play along with him. 

"Have you been fucked in the ass lately, Jane?" she heard her father ask. 

"Not lately, Daddy." 

"Oh? How come?" 

"I don't know. Just one of those things, I guess." 

Laurence chuckled softly. "Don't tell me you haven't be getting screwed all 
summer." 

"I didn't say that. I was just answering-" Jane let her voice trail off, her 
body tensing as she felt one of her father's thick fingers push into her 
behind. He's going to fuck me in the ass, she thought sadly. He's going to 
ignore my need for his big bone in my suffering cunt and just bang my 
behind. Well, maybe it was better than nothing at all. 

"What about that tall, handsome fella I met this morning?" 

"Jim Lansing?" 

"Yeah, that's the guy." 

"What about him?" Janice winced as the finger burrowed deeper inside her 
rectum. "Why do you-ouch! Easy, Daddy." 

"Haven't you given him a shot at your fanny? I can't believe he could resist 
making a play for you, baby." 

"He has other things on his mind," explained Jane. 

"You mean like fucking his sister?" 

"Yes. He and Gail have agreed to-owww! That hurts, Daddy." 

Laurence chuckled. "Come now, Janey. You can take two fingers easily." 

"But you don't have to be so rough. You could work them in carefully, you 
know." 

"You're getting soft, sweetheart. You didn't use to complain when I diddled 
that gorgeous asshole before." 

As if it would have done any good, Jane thought. 

"Sometimes I even managed to get three fingers up there, remember?" 

"Yes, I remember," said Jane softly. 

"Now what were you saying about this Jim Lansing fella and his sister? What 
have they agreed to?" 

"They've agreed to remain faithful to each other." 

"Oh, that's charming. But I wonder if they'll be able to resist the 
temptation to fuck others." 

Laurence smiled inwardly at the thought of being one of the very first to 
test Gail Lansing's faithfulness. Other than the fact that she was a 
divorcee who, in the surprise of the decade, had bumped into her brother in 
Southampton and was presently screwing him, he knew precious little about 
the luscious auburn-haired female. 

But the idea of learning more appealed to him. He recalled their meeting 
earlier in the day and how absolutely desirable she had been in that 
deliciously indecent bikini. Even now, as he roughly reamed his pretty 
daughter's asshole with two of his thick fingers, he wondered if it would be 
possible to worm himself into her affections. And then into her cunt, or 
ass. 

"Daddy, please put it in me now," Jane pleaded, trying again to prod her 
father into action. 

"I thought you didn't want it in your bottom." 

"I-I don't care where you shove it. Just give it to me." 

"Don't you like my fingers in your ass?" As if to prompt a reply to his lewd 
question, Laurence dug even deeper into his whimpering daughter's behind, 
his fingers twisting, turning, stretching the ring of pink flesh that was 
her anus as they rummaged about in the dank canal of her rectum. 

"I want your cock, Daddy," Jane said, her voice very close to a shout. 

"In your ass?" 

Janey stifled a sob. "I told you-I don't care where you do it to me. Just 
shove it somewhere before I die." 

"All right, baby," said Laurence, "I won't make you wait any longer. Crouch 
down now-that's it, like that." 

"Get it in me," Janey whimpered. "Oh, please get it in me. Fill me up with 
cock!" 

"Stick your ass up for me, sweetheart. Get it way-that's my girl. Oh, 
doesn't that look good?" 

In obscene and very vulnerable crouch, braced on knees and shoulders, her 
face pressing hotly into the pillow, Jane waited impatiently for the 
wonderful feel of her father's big pecker entering her body. She knew not 
where he would go, in her ass or in her leading vagina. Posed as she was, 
her behind offered a most inviting target. But he could just as easily 
bypass her asshole and thrust his turgid tool into her now very soggy 
vagina. 

And what was that he had said about taking care of her shit chute and sex 
chute at the same time? 

"Okay, little girl," said Laurence with a lewd grin, "here comes your old 
man to the rescue." 

"Fuck me, Daddy. Dig in deep, dammit." Laurence curled the fingers of his 
right hand around his large organ and directed the bulbous head to his 
daughter's anus. As if preparing to penetrate Janey's pert posterior he 
brushed the damp cockhead over the niggardly aperture, working his rock-hard 
root up and down and wedging just a tiny portion of it inside her anus. 

My ass, the saucy blue-eyed blonde thought. He'd decided to ram it up my 
bottom. She grit her teeth and waited for the thick intrusion, experience 
having shown her that while she could take all of her father's 
blood-hardened cock up her fanny there was, in the beginning, more than a 
little pain involved in accomplishing the unnatural feat. 

But no sooner had Janey braced herself for a vigorous fanny fuck than her 
father changed targets, a sudden flick of his wrist taking his rigid rod 
from her asshole to her dripping cunt. She had no time to consider this 
detour to her vagina, this apparent change of heart, for the cock, as thick 
and as long as a salami, was already burrowing up inside her tummy. 

"Ohhh-" she moaned happily, grateful for the long awaited penetration. "Ohh, 
I feel it, Daddy. You're stuffing me so good. Get it all in. Please-I want 
it all." 

"And ah is what you'll get, little girl," promised Laurence, placing his 
hands on his daughter's hips as he inched his large cock into the warm, 
butter-soft canal of her mushy twat. 

"More-give me more," Janey moaned into the pillow, tears of happiness 
welling in her pretty eyes as her father's fat pecker slid ever deeper into 
her molten sex chute. 

Laurence gave his daughter more, keeping his promise as he packed her 
clasping cunt with all eight inches of his blood-fattened, pulsating pecker. 
Janey emitted a joyous moan and all but forgot how annoying her father could 
be at times. 

She was ready to forgive him everything and anything right now, so thrilling 
was the feel of his large organ in her vagina. It felt so gut-jumbling good 
in there. She was impaled now, skewered like a chicken on a spit, her hungry 
cunt chock full of giant size, throbbing prick. 

And now he was moving in her, stroking his manhood in and out of her 
grateful love box. 

"How's that, baby?" Laurence asked, his voice raspy. "Is this what you 
wanted?" 

"Yes, oh yes-I love your big cock, Daddy. Fuck me with it. Pound me hard." 

Laurence grinned and continued his slow, methodical reaming of his delighted 
daughter's viscous vagina. In and out he worked his bloated bone, stroking 
deep and touching bottom each time. Janey's whimpers of joy, her tremulous 
pleas for a hard, jarring fuck were like music to his ears. 

It was a groan of displeasure, however, that Janey emitted when her father, 
thinking the moment propitious, pulled his meaty manhood out of her greedy 
cunt and zeroed in on her asshole. Within seconds the thick column of flesh 
was pushing into her behind, expanding her rectum and stretching wide her 
nether hole. 

Janey grunted into the pillow, her face contorting with pain as the fleshy 
intruder burrowed relentlessly into her foul bowels, digging ever deeper 
into her shapely bottom. But soon she had it all, her father's giant 
manhood, so recently lodged in her clinging cunt, now arrogant vanquisher of 
her rectal canal. 

Animal-like grunts of pleasure popped from Laurence's lips as he began 
sawing his tumescent tool in and out of his daughter's after-passage. His 
fingers dug into the resilient flesh of her hips as he plumbed the depths of 
her derriere, compared the tightness of her shit chute to the tightness of 
her syrupy twat. 

"Ugh, ugh, ugh," Janey grunted, each forceful thrust of her father's big 
dick into her clammy rectum driving her head, cradled between her arms, into 
the pillow. 

It was when Laurence pulled his stained rod from her behind and again 
directed it to her cunt that Janey realized her father's lewd intent. He was 
indeed going to treat her cunt and rectum at the same time. Or almost the 
same time. A few minutes in her ass and then a few minutes in her vagina, 
then back to her behind for a little while before again switching chutes. 

Rectum, cunt, rectum, cunt. Well, maybe it wasn't such a bad idea, she 
thought dazedly, as her father fed her cunt his bloated bone once again. 
There was something to be said for doubling your pleasure, doubling your 
fun. 

 Chapter Eight 

It was orgy time in Southampton. Or at least in the cozy cottage Gail, Alice 
and Jane were sharing for the summer. 

It was Alice who suggested the fuck fest. Over drinks one humid evening, as 
she and her father, Laurence and Jane Fielding, and Gail and her brother sat 
outside the cottage sipping frosty lime rickeys, the titian-tressed lovely 
pointed out that summer was rapidly drawing to a close and that a swinging 
party would be a delightful way of marking the occasion. 

Alice's idea met with no opposition. A farewell to summer fuck fest would 
be, the others agreed, an exciting and very interesting experience. 

Gail, however, evidenced her possessive nature by insisting that there be no 
changing of partners during the sex party. This was met with some grumbling, 
especially from Laurence Fielding. 

Although six days had elapsed since his arrival in Southampton, he had yet 
to lay a hand on Gail Lansing. She was certainly pleasant enough, engaging 
him in small talk, smiling prettily, and in general acting as if she enjoyed 
his company. But at the same time she had made it clear, in various subtle 
ways, that she was not at all interested in a quick roll in the hay. Or, 
considering the locale, in a hasty bang on the beach. 

Alice's suggestion that they all celebrate the close of a fun summer season 
by screwing up a storm ignited a spark of hope in Jane's father, since he 
thought it reasonable enough to believe that during an orgy, in the 
attendant excitement and confusion, he'd have a pretty fair chance of 
corralling Miss Lansing. 

But Gail, with her silly stipulation that there be no switching of partners 
had quickly doused the spark of hope. 

Nevertheless, Laurence was interested in making merry with his daughter in 
the company of others. Although he had screwed his share of women, he had 
never participated in an orgy. Then, too, while there now seemed precious 
little chance of his laying Gail he would at least have the opportunity to 
view her in the nude. Not only that, but he would also be able to feast on 
the sight of her in a state of sexual arousal. It was better than nothing. 

Thus it was that the orgy, agreed to by all, came into being. It was to be 
held in the cottage on Saturday night. Sometime Sunday, probably in the 
afternoon, Laurence Fielding and Kenneth Dalton would make ready to return 
to Manhattan. The others, Gail and her brother, Janey and Alice, would see 
the men off at the train station. 

It was on Saturday morning that Gail got her surprise-a visit from her 
ex-husband, Paul Dover. 

Against his cousin's advice, Paul had driven out to Southampton for the 
purpose of talking to Gail. He was hoping, praying, that she would agree to 
a reconciliation. After all, he reasoned, many couples divorced and then, 
after further thought, decided to get back together again. It really wasn't 
so very unusual. 

"Paul, how did you find me?" asked Gail, after recovering from the shock of 
seeing her ex-mate. As luck would have it, she was alone in the cottage when 
he arrived. 

"I knew you were staying in Southampton," explained Paul, sitting with legs 
crossed in the wicker rocking chair. "When I got here early this morning I 
just started asking around." 

Gail nodded. Unsmiling, she walked to the small bar in the corner and got 
the fixings for a screwdriver. Without thinking, she asked Paul if he wanted 
a drink. 

"Yes, thank you. That would be very nice." 

Gail looked at her ex-mate. "Are you sure, Paul? Since when did you start 
enjoying alcohol?" 

Paul smiled a sad smile. "I don't drink very much. Just once in a while." 

"I see. A screwdriver all right?" 

"Fine." 

Gail made the drinks and then walked over to Paul. She handed him his 
screwdriver, received his thanks, then moved to the sofa and took a seat. 
She took a sip of her drink, peering at Paul over the rim of her glass. He 
hasn't changed, she decided. He's the same as when she left him for greener 
pastures. Just as quiet, just as unassuming, just as dull. 

"This is a very cozy little place you have here," said Paul, looking around 
the small living room. "And it's not too far from the beach, is it?" 

"I share it with two other girls." 

"Oh. Well that's nice." Paul paused briefly, then, "I didn't think you 
lacked for company out here." 

"I've made many friends, Paul. Male and female." 

"Yes, I'm sure you have. It comes as no surprise to learn that you're 
well-liked. I mean, you're beautiful, bright, clever and interested in-" 

"Please Paul, don't start up," Gail broke in. "Nothing you say or do will 
change my mind. It's over between us-definitely over. You have just got to 
accept that, Paul." 

"Is that why you think I came out here-to ask if we could try again?" 

"Of course. Why else would you make the trip?" 

"Perhaps just to see you again. And to talk." 

"Come on, Paul. I'm not a stupid person." 

Paul was quiet for a moment, then, "I suppose I can conclude that you've met 
another man." 

"Yes, you can conclude that," said Gail, a faint smile on her beautiful, 
well-tanned face. 

"And you're in love with, him?" 

"Yes. He's all I ever wanted in a man." 

"I see." 

Gail took another sip of her drink. He looks so pathetic, so lost, she 
thought. Why in heaven's name did he decide to pay her a visit? He must have 
known that no good would come from it. What was he praying for, a miracle? 

"Look, Paul, this is becoming more and more awkward with each passing 
second. I think it would be best if you finished your drink and then left. 
We really have nothing to talk about." 

"I could change, Gail. You could try me-" 

"No. It simply will not work, Paul. You can't change any more than I can. 
We're two very different people who for some crazy, unexplainable reason 
met, fell in love, and married. It was a tragic mistake from which we both 
should have learned something." 

"Who is this man you've fallen in love with?" asked Paul, the question 
tearing at his gut. 

"What difference does it make?" Paul shrugged. "I'm just curious. I'd like 
to meet him." 

"Oh Paul, for heaven sakes. Why torture yourself? Go back to New York and 
start a new life, will you? Forget about me and try to find a nice girl to 
marry. Settle down and get on with the business of being happy instead of 
behaving like a jilted schoolboy." 

"You still think I'm a spineless excuse for a man, don't you, Gail?" 

The auburn-haired beauty stood and walked to the bar. She set the glass down 
atop the bar, then turned to face her ex-husband. "I don't want to talk to 
you any more, Paul. I'd like it very much if you'd say goodbye and then 
leave. And please promise that you won't track me down again." 

"All right, I'll go," said Paul softly. He stood and walked slowly to the 
bar. "But won't you first tell me who it is you've fallen in love with?" 

"Shit, you must be a masochist," Gail stated angrily. 

"Tell me-please." 

Gail hesitated, and then, "Are you sure you want to know?" 

"Yes." 

"His name is Jim Lansing." 

"Jim Lans-" 

"My brother. You remember Jim, don't you?" 

Paul set his glass down on the bar. "Y-Yes, but-I mean-" 

A smile blossomed on Gail's face. "You're wondering how Jim happened to be 
here in Southampton. Well, I can't answer that. Maybe fate had something to 
do with it. Maybe it was-" she left the thought unfinished, thinking there 
was no sense in hurting her ex any more than was necessary. She had been 
about to say that Jim's surprising appearance in Southampton could have been 
a benevolent god's way of compensating her for the frustrating years she 
spent as the wife of a milquetoast. 

"Then you're involved with incest," Paul said abstractedly, his mind 
wandering. 

"I'm involved with a man I love more than life itself. Now go on home, Paul. 
Please go home. I have a million things I want to do this morning." 

Paul nodded. "Yes, Yes, of course. I, er, I wish you all the luck in the 
world, Gail." 

"Thank you, Paul. And the same to you. Now if you've finished your drink-" 

Exit one ex-husband, thought Gail a few minutes later, after seeing a 
downcast Paul to the door. It was almost possible to feel sorry for the poor 
guy. The look on his face when she told him of her love for Jim had been 
something to behold. His surprise, or maybe it was shock, had been obvious. 

But he would get over it, just as he would eventually get over the divorce. 
In any event, she had not time to worry about her ex-husband's problems. Jim 
was picking her up in an hour and the two of them would do a little shopping 
in Southampton. When they finished they might just pop into the art museum 
in town, where Alice and Jane had taken their fathers. 

And then, of course, there was tonight's orgy to look forward to. 

* * * 

The orgy, scheduled to commence when all participants were present, eight 
o'clock or thereabouts, didn't get off the ground until almost nine-thirty. 
This was because Alice and her father had slipped away to the beach shortly 
after a light supper, where they proceeded to forget all about the time as 
they lost themselves in lust in Gail Lansing's "passion place." 

But once things got under way it was a sight to please even the most jaded 
voyeur. 

The cottage, being small and not at all designed for wild sex parties, 
prompted Kenneth Dalton to jokingly comment that they should have rented a 
hall for the night's festivities. But the fun-seekers were not really 
cramped in the cottage. As Jim Lansing pointed out, they had at their 
disposal one very large bed, and in the living room, there was a sofa 
("small but comfortable, a strong piece of furniture upon which a couple 
could screw") and enough chairs should anyone want to fuck sitting down. 
There was no reason, he said, why six people couldn't have a helluva good 
time in these surroundings. 

Which is precisely what the half-dozen hedonists proceeded to do. 

It was decided that Kenneth Dalton and Laurence Fielding would take their 
daughters, Alice and Jane, respectively, into the bedroom and fuck the 
little darlings to heaven and back. Jim and Gail would stay in the living 
room and devise something absolutely filthy to do on the sofa. 

Thus it was that the sexy shindig commenced, the six sex seekers stripping 
to the buff to lose themselves in an unforgettable night of incestuous lust. 

Kenneth and Laurence took their daughters to the bedroom, the four laughing 
and waving goodbye to Gail and Jim, who remaining in the living room, would 
again dazzle an invisible audience with yet another version of their special 
brother and sister act. 

Once in the bedroom, Alice and Jane climbed onto the large, comfortable bed 
and rolled onto their backs. Although he fully intended to abide by the 
rules laid down by Gail and agreed to by the others, Kenneth Dalton saw no 
reason why he couldn't appreciate Jane Fielding's beauty from afar. 

And so he looked at the cute, well-built blonde, his eyes roaming her 
compact form as she smilingly commenced a lazy massage of her golden-haired 
bush. She was a pixie, he thought. A pint-sized prick-teaser. It would be 
fun to fuck his beautiful daughter while others looked on, just as it would 
be fun to watch Laurence screwing Janey and Jim socking it to his stunning 
sister. Nevertheless, it was a shame that he wouldn't have the chance to dip 
his dick into Janey's slushy pussy. Or Gail's for that matter. 

Like Kenneth, Laurence saw no harm in gazing appreciatively at the lush, 
fuckable form of a girl not his daughter. And so he explored Alice Dalton 
with his eyes, examining from the foot of the bed her succulent tits, her 
smooth, flat tummy, the sleek, sensuous perfection of her long legs. 

"Hey, you two," said Alice with a grin, "what's holding up the works? Are 
you going to look at us or fuck us?" 

"Yeah," Janey chimed in. "Let's get the show on the road. I've got a pussy 
that needs a plowing, Dad." 

"I was just thinking," said Laurence, "that this is really very stupid." 

"Screwing is stupid?" 

"No, my little comedienne. What's stupid is the fact that Mr. Dalton and I 
are not allowed to change partners at any time during the night. I mean, 
what kind of an orgy is this, anyway?" 

"You've got a point there, Larry," said Kenneth. "Frankly, I don't see what 
harm could come from your laying my daughter and me laying yours. If the 
girls are agreeable, that is." 

Alice turned her head on the pillow to look at Jane. "What do you think?" 

Still rubbing up her twat the blue-eyed bombshell said, "Well, it does seem 
rather silly, doesn't it? I mean, why can't we be just one big happy 
family?" 

"My feeling exactly," said Laurence. 

Alice thought for a moment, then, "Say, I think I have an idea." 

"Out with it, sweetheart," said her father. 

"It's simple. Why don't we simply ignore the stupid rule?" 

"Gail would have a fit," Janey noted. "You know how possessive she is. She's 
afraid that if you and I switch fathers for sex her brother will take the 
cue and try to make it with one of us. And in her book that's a no-no." 

"But that's my point," Alice persisted. "Jim and Gail don't have to know 
anything about it. I mean, how is Gail going to know what we're doing in 
here when she's in the living room sucking and fucking Jim? At the very 
least we should be able to manage a quick swap." 

Kenneth grinned, then turned to Laurence. "That's my daughter for you, 
Larry. Sharp as a tack, isn't she?" 

"And about as sexy as they come," said Laurence, directing a smile at the 
titian-tressed Alice and noting that her eyes had dropped to his prick, 
which even when flaccid could start a pussy purring and salivating. 

"Then it's settled," said Janey. "Dad, you take care of Alice and Mr. 
Dalton-I mean, Kenneth-will tend to me." 

"Why don't you and I warm up our daughters first?" Kenneth suggested. "Then, 
at the right moment, well simply switch girls." 

"Yeah, that's all right with me," declared Laurence. "Well get them really 
hot to trot and then fuck the shit out of them." 

"Well, we're waiting patiently," grinned Alice. 

"Patience is a virtue, baby," noted her father. 

"Ugh!" grunted Janey. "How I hate the word 'virtue.'" 

Chuckling, Kenneth Dalton and Laurence Fielding joined their fuckable 
daughters on the large bed. The movie star handsome Kenneth draped his lean, 
hard-muscled body across Alice and began to bathe her supple nakedness with 
warm, moist kisses. 

Palming her succulent breasts, squeezing them tenderly, he slid his tongue 
over her neck and shoulders, inhaling the delightful fragrance of the 
perfume she had put on earlier just for this occasion. Then, inching 
downward, he commenced a devilish tonguing of his happy daughter's luscious 
tits, his lips roaming over the tasty globes of flesh. 

Less than three feet away, Laurence was working on his daughter. Being more 
direct than his friend Kenneth, who had studied with care the subtleties of 
sex, Laurence had gone right to the heart of the matter, positioning himself 
in a deep crouch between Janey's legs and then, without delay, plastering 
his face against her odorous snatch. 

"Mmmm, that makes me feel so sexy," purred Alice, feeling her father's 
talented tongue brush sensuously across her smooth, flat tummy. "My pussy, 
Dad. Get to my pussy." 

"My clit, Daddy," Janey was saying softly, excitedly. "Tongue my clit, 
Daddy." 

Obeying orders, Laurence zeroed in on his daughter's swollen passion nubbin, 
his thick lips locking onto that tasty tidbit. He drew the clitoris into his 
mouth, sucking it sensuously, his tongue lashing the fleshy bud as his lips 
held it fast in a wicked, vice-like grip. 

For several delicious minutes, as his pecker filled with warm blood, Kenneth 
tended to his daughter's wet, tingling twat, treating it in much the same 
manner that Laurence was treating Janey's succulent snatch. And then, after 
asking her to flip over onto her stomach, he commenced to lave her lovely 
backside. 

As Alice purred like a contented kitten, her face pressed warmly into the 
pillow her arms hugged, Kenneth ran his talented tongue up and down and all 
around her plush posterior. With his thumbs he pried apart the spongy 
cheeks, exposing to his admiring gaze the soft, sensitive opening of her 
bottom. 

"Do, it, Dad," Alice murmured passionately on the pillow. "Stick your 
beautiful tongue up my ass. Ream me out. Please." 

Kenneth wasted no time in heeding his aroused daughter's hole obscenely. 
Holding her ass open, he flicked out his hard-working serpent of a tongue 
and drilled it into her vulnerable asshole. Alice moaned with delight and 
clutched the pillow even tighter, the feel of her father's tongue wriggling 
around inside her shit hole making her tingle with pleasure. 

Taking his cue from Kenneth, Laurence lifted his face from his daughter's 
sloppy, steaming snatch and ordered her over onto her stomach. Jane was 
quick to obey the command. She very much desired the kind of perverse 
pleasure Alice was presently receiving. 

She didn't have to wait very long for her wicked thrill, for no sooner had 
she flipped over onto her belly, her arms wrapping around the fluffy pillow 
supporting her head, then her father was prying apart the pliant half-moons 
of her saucy derriere and thrusting his tongue into her winking asshole. 

"Ooooo, I like that so much," she cooed. "Get it in deep, Daddy. 
Deeper-ohhh, that's so nice." 

Laurence, his cock now as hard as Kenneth's, performed the analingus with 
enthusiasm, his slippery tongue in lewd, excited exploration of a smelly 
asshole. He pushed his tongue deep into that puckered port, wriggled it 
around, then commenced a scintillating series of rapid in and out thrusts. 

Jane moaned her approval and turned her head on the pillow so that she could 
see Alice. The girls joined hands. Jane's right with Alice's left, and 
exchanged dreamy smiles while savoring the delightfully dirty act being 
performed on them by their passion-filled fathers. 

And then it was time to change partners. 

Kenneth and Laurence, their tools thickened by desire and pulsating proudly, 
crawled around each other and awkwardly maneuvered into position. While 
their cunt-hungry fathers traded places, Alice and Janey turned over onto 
their backs, their well-tongued, saliva-coated assholes sticking to the bed 
sheet. 

"You're big-and so nice and large," Alice noted with a faintly feral smile, 
her gaze dropping to Laurence Fielding's oversized manhood. 

Laurence grinned. "The better to fuck you, baby." 

"Do that, please. Fuck me hard and fast." 

"Get your legs up over my shoulders." 

Alice drew her legs up and draped them over the sturdy shoulders of her 
friend's father, knowing that in this position, with her knees bent back and 
almost touching her breasts, penetration would be wonderfully deep. 

"Get it in me," she ordered excitedly. "Ram that thing up to my tits." 

As Laurence steered his throbbing tool to Alice's dripping cunt and pushed 
inside that mushy cove of pleasure, Kenneth Dalton buried his rigid root in 
Jane's sizzling vagina with a single, smooth, tummy-flattening thrust. 

"Ohhh, that's good," Jane groaned, throwing her arms around her partner's 
back. "Screw me hard now. Please screw me hard." 

"You're nice and tight," Kenneth noted, as he began his slow, deliberate 
thrusts. 

"Stretch it for me. Split me open." 

"Like this?" 

"Ugh!" 

"Bang me, Larry," moaned Alice, her fingers digging into the mattress as she 
enjoyed the searing thrusts of Laurence Fielding's big cock while bent 
double, her knees bumping back into her breasts each time the turgid tool 
trundled into her clasping cunt. "Shove it up to my tits. Make me choke on 
it." 

"Like this?" Laurence asked, lunging forward with his hips and grinding his 
manhood deep into the titian-haired beauty's sizzling vagina. 

"Ughhh!" Alice groaned. And then, in a breathy voice, "Yes, that's what I 
want. Like that. Like-arghh!" 

 Chapter Nine 

Meanwhile, back in the living room, an aroused brother and sister were 
playing lust's delightful game. 

The lewd moans and passionate sighs emanating from the small bedroom stoked 
the fires of their own lust, the sex-drenched sounds providing obscene 
accompaniment to their pursuit of incestuous pleasure. 

Gail was busy bathing her brother's tumescent manhood, her delectable 
derriere in sensuous squirm on the sofa cushion as she licked and sucked 
with obvious relish. Her pussy, purring impatiently, was getting wetter and 
wetter. 

On Jim Lansing's rough-hewn face there basked a smile, one triggered by the 
lusty manner in which his beautiful sister was tending to his throbbing 
tool. She was licking him now, nibbling on his turgid organ like a ravenous 
rodent, her lovely lips skipping over the slippery surface of the tasty 
stalk of flesh. 

"You really do enjoy sucking cock, don't you, baby?" he asked, placing his 
right hand atop Gail's head. 

"Mmmm," the auburned-haired lovely hummed. "There's nothing-nothing like 
it." 

"Where do you want it tonight?" 

"Your cock?" 

Jim chuckled. "Of course. What else?" 

"I don't know yet." 

"Better make up your mind pretty quick, sweetheart." 

"Why?" 

"Because I can't take very much more of this, that's why." 

"Relax, lover. Just relax-and enjoy-my mouth." 

Gail licked up to her brother's cockhead and then, with a quick swivel of 
her head, engulfed that purplish knob of smooth flesh in her mouth. Now 
again she was sucking, pulling the pecker deeper inside her moist oral 
cavity while savoring its throbbing fullness. 

Suddenly she sensed the presence of others in the living room with them. She 
peered up to one side, Jim's succulent cock still in her mouth. There, 
standing in the middle of the room were Alice and Kenneth, and Janey and 
Larry, obviously satisfied with what they saw. Whether in the heat of 
passion or just a change of mind, Gail decided to do away with her old rules 
and regulations. She beckoned them anxiously with her free hand. 

And thus, they were truly just one, big, happy, fucking family. 


End
