NLL-129  Cousins Who Kiss
(Roy Larsen)


INTRODUCTION 

Rumors make their rounds rapidly in the publishing business. Even before 
type was set for this book, three European publishers were clamoring for 
foreign reprint rights to The Kissing Cousins; this because rumors were that 
Dansk Blue Books undoubtedly had a best seller on its hands with 
Danish-French writer Per Dionne's new book. 

After reading advance copies, most critics are inclined to agree that this 
graphic novel may be the most daring of the year. 

Ostensibly, The Kissing Cousins is a story about the sexual foibles of the 
very rich and the not so rich who come into contact with them. There is a 
much deeper level than this, however, for here is a tale of a chrysalis in 
the form of a naive young housewife who, in transformation, becomes a 
powerful avenging high priestess of love. 

Per Dionne has woven a brilliant word tapestry in which the figures of the 
three Morgan cousins-one male and two incredibly endowed women-move with all 
the power and force of their ancestor, pirate Henry Morgan. Not since Dumas' 
The Three Musketeers have three fictional characters so captured the 
imagination. 

Beginning with corporate intrigue and infidelity in San Francisco, the story 
shifts to famed Sun Valley. Trapped in a chalet during a violent blizzard, 
six people meet in an encounter that strips all pretense from their beings 
and leaves their souls bared and defenseless. 

This is the story of strength and weakness. It is not until closer 
inspection is made that those who appear strongest are actually the weakest. 

One critic has pointed out that The Kissing Cousins is, in reality, an 
allegorical tale. "It may well be," he pointed out, "that the storm raging 
outside is symbolic of what is happening to America today. It is the storm 
inside that counts, the hurricane storm as one person fights another for 
mastery. At the end of the story, the snow is quietly falling outside, 
promising a new and peaceful landscape. Inside, there has been destruction." 

Of all of the unforgettable characters in this novel, perhaps Sue, the 
chrysalis, stands out most. She is a woman who faces facts, no matter how 
unpleasant they may be. It is she who, in the beginning, is used by 
everyone, even including her husband. As the fury of the storm outside the 
chalet mounts, so does her sense of power. And then, with the winds 
shrieking in a maniacal fury, there is the showdown with the all-powerful 
Donna, coming as it does in a scene of almost unbelievably sensual 
barbarism. 

Because the author has not attempted to change the explicit sexual impulses 
of language of his characters, there may be graphic scenes in this book that 
may offend the more sensitive readers. People like the Morgans do exist; to 
deny that is to live a lie! Therefore, Dansk Blue Books is happy to add this 
important novel to our growing list of books making a social commentary 
about our times and our society. 

-The Publishers 


CHAPTER ONE 

Sue Bigelow did something she very rarely permitted herself to do; she went 
back to bed after John left for his job as Sales Manager of Metrodynamics 
Television Industries. Before climbing between the sheets, however, she did 
another unprecedented thing when she lifted the black nylon nightgown up 
over her head and stood nude before the full-length minor, critically 
inspecting her body. Staring back at her was the lively image of a 
not-quite-tall, tousled red-haired girl of twenty-four, with jade green 
eyes, full lips, slightly wide shoulders, perfectly formed thirty-six-inch 
breasts the size of premium large oranges, a tiny twenty-four inch waist, 
gracefully flaring hips and alabaster-white buttocks, a pouting Mound of 
Venus and long, perfectly shaped thighs and legs. Satisfied at what she saw, 
she shook her head in bewilderment. 

Then, still nude, she lay down on the bed and pulled the floral printed 
sheet and gold electric blanket up tight around her shoulders. The sheets 
against her bare skin felt incredibly sensual, and she twisted her shoulders 
back and forth a couple of times, rubbing her nipples against the material. 

Then she turned to the empty pillow next to her. "John, what's wrong with 
us? Why don't you like to make love to me any more? Don't you need me? 
Christ, I sure need you! Have I done something? Is there another woman?" 

She sighed deeply, and there was the faintest suspicion of a tear in the 
corner of her green eyes. 

God knows, she thought, I've done everything I could to make the honeymoon 
last. Now, barely a year since their marriage, both she and John were bored. 
Sue didn't deny that fact; like everything else in life, Sue believed in 
facing the truth of a situation head-on, and she never practiced 
self-deception. 

No, the truth of the matter was that something was missing out of their 
romance, and for the life of her, Sue couldn't figure out where they had 
gone wrong or what was missing. She loved her husband; she had no doubt that 
he loved her equally. And yet, there were times when she was in the company 
of other couples that she felt herself being drawn almost irresistibly 
toward another male. There was magnetism there, a strange and wicked animal 
magnetism that could only-lead to disaster. 

Facing the truth now as she lay in bed listening to the rain fall outside 
and feeling the need inside of her, Sue put her jumbled thoughts into words. 
"I would like... to be... fucked... by another man." Having said it, she 
closed her eyes tightly, with a defiant expression on her face, as though 
she expected to be slapped. Deep inside her brain, a portion of her 
consciousness cringed in something akin to fear as the meaning of her remark 
sank in. 

"And furthermore," she continued, "I think John would like to ball a couple 
of other women... if he hasn't been doing so already. I think he'd love to 
make out with Ellen or Kathy... I think." 

She sighed again. For a couple whose sex life had started out so 
beautifully, it certainly had turned to sour owl guano in a hurry once they 
had gotten married. She and John had been lovers for two wonderfully hot 
exciting years before their marriage. Then, about six months after the 
official knots had been tied, there had come subtle changes in their 
relationship. Instead of making love four or five times a week, John now 
seemed interested in her only once or twice a week. And lately, he had been 
doing it the exact same way every time. As if he were in a hurry, or guilty, 
or submitting to punishment. No variation in position, no attempts to find 
new and more exciting ways of doing it... nothing. No more "nooners," as he 
used to call them, either; and no more leaving a trail of clothes and 
undergarments scattered from front door to bedroom. Just routine. And 
boredom! 

Sue searched for the word and found it. "Perfunctory," she said aloud. "My 
husband makes love to me perfunctorily." 

A sudden gust of wind made the rain rattle like pebbles against the bedroom 
windowpane. The sound in itself was chilling and cold, and Sue shivered. The 
weather forecast was for intermediate to heavy rain for the next twenty-four 
hours, with the snow level dropping to 1,500 feet by nightfall. It was 
typical of the Arctic storms that barrel down the coast to hit Northern 
California three or four times each winter. San Franciscans would come out 
blinking into the sunlight tomorrow and find a few of the higher hills 
wearing an ermine cloak of snow. 

Sue's body was covered with goosebumps. The chill had caused her nipples to 
tighten and become erect. The only warm place on her entire body seemed to 
be that slumbering volcano between her legs. She turned up the thermostat on 
the electric blanket and heard the little relays click loudly. 

My Mound of Venus is really Mount Vesuvius, she thought sleepily, and 
yawned. Too bad it can't blow out a smoke ring once in a while... just to 
let John know it's there. 

The thought tickled her. She grinned, yawned, then closed her eyes. She was 
asleep again almost immediately, and once again she dreamed of a tall, 
faceless, athletic middle-aged man making love to her in the most delicious 
way... she could even feel the rough edges of his tongue as it licked, 
licked, licked away at her femaledom. 

CHAPTER TWO 

Dorothy Carswell was the Office Manager for Metrodynamics Television. About 
forty years old, a neat dresser, an immaculate hairdo, she radiated a great 
deal of sex in spite of a rather obvious attempt on her part to suppress her 
femininity. 

While the other males in the Home Office of Metrodynamics were pretty sure 
she was a hot little number, only one man knew for sure. John Bigelow! 

Watching her trim form now as she swayed down the aisleway between the 
desks, walking away from his office, John thought once again that 
Metrodynamics motto, "Do business only with an old, reliable firm!" really 
applied to her. She was, without a doubt, one of the most talented broads in 
the sack he had ever had before. Only, in this case, it was always her sack, 
and a nice sack it was indeed. Dorothy's apartment was, in reality, a 
penthouse atop a twenty-story apartment complex overlooking Golden Gate 
Bridge, the Bay, and Alcatraz. It cost her $650 a month. Exactly who paid 
the rent remained a mystery, but John knew her benefactor was always there 
on Friday, Monday and Wednesday evenings. That really had been a simple 
deduction. Dorothy liked John in bed, but it was a "no-no" on those nights. 
Too, he had called one Monday evening on some pretext or the other, and 
Dorothy had been extremely short with him on the telephone. The following 
day she would hardly speak to him... but that night she softened enough to 
let him make love to her. 

Everything about her yelled out "class," everything from the concert grand 
piano, which she played exceedingly well, to the original little Utrillo 
canvases on the front room walls and the delightfully feminine bedroom. 

John had been calling at her apartment after work and on an occasional 
weekend for the last six months. She was an incredibly dexterous sexual 
athlete, and with her, anything went. Anything at all, much to John's 
delight. She was an accomplished fellatrix, and when she took his heated 
cock into the oval of her cool soft mouth, it was, in itself, enough to put 
him in orbit. John, on the other hand, had never gone down on her. lie had 
thought about it several times, had even made a half-hearted attempt once, 
but Dorothy, apparently sensing his uncertainty, had pulled his head away 
from her navel and said soothingly, "No, cheri. Not until you really want 
to. It must be done from the heart. It must be a gift... a little tribute. 
Only then is it exquisite." 

In other ways, though, Dorothy had made her wants known. She liked to be 
practically raped some nights, with no time being taken to build her up or 
lubricate her. It was obviously painful to her when his hot, hard prick 
slammed into the dry caverns of her cunt, but still she screamed out her 
masochistic enjoyment. And, there were nights when she made no pretense of 
hiding her desire to be sodomized by him. The first time he had realized 
what she wanted, John had been so excited by the lewd prospect that he had 
reached a climax before he had been able to cram his prick all the way into 
her clenching, unclenching, hot little asshole. Dorothy had not hidden her 
displeasure or disappointment, but youth had been on his side, and his 
powerful erection had arisen again within a minute or two; this time she had 
no cause for complaint, reaching such a powerful orgasm that she lapsed into 
unconsciousness. 

Watching her now disappear into her own office at the other end of the 
section, John sought to sort out his own feelings about her. Christ, he was 
inflicted with a deep sense of guilt so far as Sue was concerned. His 
conscience, he freely admitted, was causing certain problems. He felt so 
damned guilty about Dorothy that he found himself almost staying away from 
Sue-in order to punish himself for his infidelity. Two or three times he had 
thought briefly about breaking off his affair with the older woman, but that 
was impossible and he knew it. He wanted her; she excited him... excited him 
by her salacious behavior and demands. He was fully aware that Dorothy was 
waiting him out so far as cunnilingus was concerned; she wanted him down 
there gobbling it, but to date he hadn't done it... not because it was 
distasteful to him, but simply because he didn't feel right about paying 
this type of homage to a woman he didn't love, when he had never done it to 
a wife whom he loved deeply. 

Sue, though, he was pretty sure, would be revolted by this type of perverted 
behavior. He almost laughed aloud as he thought about it. Sue with his cock 
in her mouth! Good God! She was so naive about things like that. She'd die 
of embarrassment if he made any suggestion or even hinted that he wanted her 
to do that to him, or that he wanted to kiss her vagina. As far as anal 
intercourse was concerned... why, Sue would be so shocked that she'd have 
him locked up as a sick, demented, perverted old man. 

His train of thought was abruptly sidetracked as George Conklin, the 
Executive Vice President, came in shaking the rain off his London Fog 
jacket. "Good morning, George," John said cheerfully. "Don't tell me it's 
raining outside." 

"Humph! A good Sales Manager would be out there in this downpour beating the 
bushes for new business instead of sitting on his ass and relying on past 
glories," George came back. It was a familiar, friendly banter between the 
two men who respected each other's abilities. John knew he had no cause to 
alibi or apologize for the current sales figures; this last quarter had been 
the best in the history of the company, and most of the increase could be 
traced directly to John's new marketing and training concept. 

Now George Conklin was standing in front of his desk, a pleased but 
secretive smile on his face. He laid his wet raincoat in a maroon leather 
chair and rubbed his hands briskly. "Well, I've just come back from J.J.'s 
office." 

"Oh?" 

Now George's grin split his lips and his eyes crinkled. "He's very pleased 
with you. As a matter of fact, he's already talking about big things in 
store for you." 

John felt a rush of sudden pride shoot through him. This was good news. J.J. 
Thompins, the legendary fifty-year-old head of Metrodynamics, was not one to 
lavish praise on his subordinates. All John could say in response to the 
message was, "Thank you." 

"Yes... Well you might want to thank old J.J. himself... by an inter-office 
memo, of course. There's one other thing; he's so pleased with your work 
that he wanted me to give you these." George threw an envelope across the 
desk and then stood there, still grinning, waiting for the younger man to 
open the packet. 

John used the letter opener to slit the envelope, then head cocked 
uncertainly to one side, removed the contents. "Airline tickets?" he asked, 
puzzled. 

"Yes. And paid hotel accommodations for you and Sue... at Sun Valley." 

"Why... why... I'm overwhelmed." 

"Don't be, my boy. You've earned it. And if J.J. hadn't given them to you, I 
would have done something for you out of my special account. I must confess 
though that I was somewhat surprised by his generosity." 

John stared down at the tickets; they called for a Friday departure and a 
return in ten days. He swallowed. Aside from rather rapid promotions from 
salesman to Regional Manager to Marketing Services Manager to Sales Manager, 
this really was the first solid indication of approval from the company. 
"That is very generous," he agreed. "But... George, I don't know if I can 
leave on Friday. I have to conduct the interviews for our new Marketing 
Services Manager." 

"Let Dorothy run the preliminary interviews. She can select half a dozen 
final candidates or likely prospects, and you can wrap it up when you get 
back." 

"Well... if you're sure... " 

"I'm sure. And besides, it's practically a direct command from J.J." 

"Okay." John grinned and stood, unable to contain his excitement. "Sun 
Valley. Oh, wow! I haven't had a chance to do any skiing for almost two 
years." 

"Good. Go and enjoy yourself, and your wife." 

George picked up his raincoat and set out for his office in the executive 
wing. John stood there for a moment, reading the ticket information over and 
over again. It was really fantastic. This was a true paid vacation-it 
wouldn't count against his regular vacation time... it was just a little 
something extra. Then he thought of Sue. She would be excited about it, just 
as excited as he was. She loved to go places, and she had a figure that was 
stunningly incomparable in ski clothes. She would be a smash, a knockout. 
And she'd love every minute of it. Maybe... just maybe, he thought 
mournfully and with the sting of conscience biting him again, we can 
recapture something of what we had before I got involved with Dorothy, He 
slipped the tickets into his inside coat pocket and went down the hall to 
Dorothy's office. Mandy, her receptionist, nodded pleasantly at him. 

"Is Miss Carswell with anyone?" he asked. 

"No, sir. I'll tell her you're here." She pushed down the intercom button 
and announced, "Mr. Bigelow would like to see you." 

Dorothy's voice came back through the box, "Send him in, please." 

John walked in and closed the door behind him. He stood there, back pressed 
against the door, glancing boldly at her and feeling the dull excitement 
beginning in his loins. His prick stirred in its slumber. His expression, he 
knew, was lewd with his thoughts mirrored on his face. 

"Down... boy," she crooned, smiling companionably at him. 

"God... you really turn me on." 

"That's good." 

He growled playfully, "Do you know what I would like to do right now?" 

"Yes, darling... and you can just forget about it. You know the old rules. 
No playing kitchy-koo during office hours, or the Office Manager will fire 
you." 

"But you're the Office Manager." 

"Yes. Still goes. Well, now. What brings you to me on the run so soon after 
I left you." 

"I've just heard from J.J. He likes the last quarter's report and he's 
sending me to Sun Valley. All expenses paid-for ten days." 

She smiled, "Yes, I know. Congratulations." 

"I'm supposed to leave Friday. Can you handle the preliminary interviews on 
the new marketing services man?" 

"Of course. I'll be happy to." 

"I wish... well... I wish, almost, that you were coming too." 

"That would be cozy," she purred. "Me lying on your right side, Sue on the 
left." 

He blushed, stammered, then said, "You know what I mean." Why is it she 
could always make him feel like a small boy caught with his hands in the 
cookie jar? 

Dorothy was toying with a pencil; there was a strange look on her face, 
"strange" in that it was one of uncertainty, and John had never seen her 
uncertain of anything before. Finally, without looking at him, she said, 
"That wouldn't be bad, you know. Me on your right side, Sue on the left... 
and next to her... a friend of mine." 

The shock showed on his face. Then it faded to be replaced by anger. "That's 
going a little far with your fun and games." 

There was genuine puzzlement in her voice when she asked, "What's so 
different between you and me... and Sue and another man?" 

"Swapping." He spat out the word contemptuously. 

"Yes... four people feeling something- participating in something. Double 
the number, double the pleasure and excitement." 

He had to watch his words now. He didn't want to anger or offend her, even 
though he was revolted by the mere thought of his wife participating in such 
a crazy thing. "Sue would never go for it." 

"How do you know unless you ask her?" 

"You're out of your mind." 

She shrugged. "Drop it then." 

Watching her breasts rise and fall beneath the silk knit dress, John felt 
the urgency and need for her come stealing back into his loins. "Will I see 
you tonight?" he asked. 

She shook her head. 

He knew better than to question her or ask why. "Then Thursday evening?" 

"Sorry, friend. No more. Kaput." 

"What do you mean?" he blurted out, disbelief and the beginning of outraged 
protest in his voice. 

Dorothy looked genuinely sorry when she said, "No more. You know I have a 
lover, a man who keeps me in... the apartment." 

"Yes." 

"Well... he says I mustn't see you any more." 

John was stunned and, for a moment, a bit enlightened. He didn't want his 
affair with Dorothy to be public knowledge. "You mean he knows about me?" 

She nodded, amused. 

"Why in hell did you tell him?" Now the outrage was unmistakable. 

"Cheri... 

he's known all along. You know the word 'usufruct'?" He shook his head and 
she continued, "It's an old legal phrase meaning the right to enjoy and use 
the property of others just so long as you don't harm the property and the 
property benefits by your use of it. He merely felt that you were being 
usufructural. But now he feels perhaps you might do something to return the 
favor. He'd like the same privileges with Sue. He would be very beneficial 
to her; you know, he's an extremely talented man in bed." 

For a moment John thought the room was revolving around him. This was the 
most insane thing he had ever known. "Never a chance... not one. Sue is my 
wife, and I resent the implication that she would do anything like that. 
She's decent." 

"And I'm not, cheri?" The reproach was unmistakable. 

"Oh, sweet Jesus," John snapped, closing his eyes as though he wanted to 
blot out the scene. 

Dorothy's low laughter came across the room. "Goodbye, cheri. Have fun at 
Sun Valley." 

"Dorothy... look, I... I... Oh shit! Forget it!" He yanked open the door and 
walked rapidly and angrily back to his own office where he closed the door 
behind him. 

"Shit... shit... SHIT!" he yelled, and slammed his fist down onto the desk, 
scattering papers all over the floor. What possessed the woman to tell her 
lover that he had been visiting her? She must have been out of her mind! She 
had always seemed so close-mouthed, and yet-if her boy friend knew about him 
that first night-the cum wouldn't have had time to dry on the Japanese silk 
sheets before she was spilling her guts to old man about new lover. As for 
the guy who was paying rent on her apartment: a dirty old man, undoubtedly! 
And as for Sue? Sue would die of mortification if she ever suspected a 
"swap" proposition had been made. He might not know much, but he did know 
his wife. 

Sue. Lovely, innocent Sue. Abruptly he realized he hadn't told her about Sun 
Valley. 

Feeling a combination of guilt, excitement, and the remnants of outrage, he 
dialed his home. It wasn't until his finger was in the last digit hole that 
he suddenly stiffened as he thought about something. Dorothy hadn't seemed 
surprised that he was going to Sun Valley; indeed, her manner and the way 
she received the news indicated that she had known about it all along. 

And yet... George Conklin had been surprised. Only a person very close to 
J.J. would have known... 

"Good God... " he said softly, as the implication began to trickle down into 
his brain. 

So stunned and frightened was he by the possible repercussions of his 
involvement, that Sue had to answer "hello" at least three times before she 
got his attention. 

CHAPTER THREE 

Sun Valley Lodge was everything Sue had ever heard about it... and more! It 
was nestled in a cup of mountains, all deeply packed with fine powder snow 
that blew in little white zephyrs-like tails-when the wind swept up the 
slope. Their room had a fireplace and a picture window that looked out over 
the skating rink. In the distance, tiny blue and yellow and black and red 
dots seemed to waltz down the steep slope of the mountainside. 

John and she had arrived late in the afternoon and were almost immediately 
caught up in the frenetic activity of the ski world's social life. Even 
before they unpacked, hot buttered rums were creating pools of liquid 
happiness in their bellies. Couples in ski clothes were already dancing in 
the smaller lounge on the second floor. Then dinner, served sumptuously in 
the elegant main dining room, followed by more dancing in the Duchin Room, 
and then to a deep soft comfortable bed where John had made delicious love 
to her by flickering firelight. And that's when it happened for the first 
time! 

John's long, hard prick was jerking against her cervix, and she could feel 
every muscular ridge in the trunk of the cock. Her clasping pussy milked at 
it, quivering with a hot passion that caused the vaginal lips to swell 
almost double in size as she reached for a climax. It was then... right 
then... that Sue began to pretend that someone else was making love to her. 
When John's long smooth strokes began increasing in tempo and his breath 
announced the impending orgasm, Sue imagined it was someone else about to 
cum inside of her. She tensed, horror stricken at the adulterous thought. 
John mistakenly accepted her sudden tensing as the beginning of her climax 
and grunted, "Here it comes, baby! Here comes the whole load. All yours, 
baby." Usually his salacious language excited her on to even a greater fit 
of lust, but not tonight. She felt his god's head balloon in size and then 
the throbbing, spurting, spewing of his pent-up semen roaring out of his 
prick to flood the very heart of her drought-stricken womb. 

John sighed in deep satisfaction. "Baby," he said, "you have got the best 
little pussy in all the world." This usually was the signal for her to kiss 
him in appreciation, and Sue did so- rather than alarm him now. Her emotions 
were churning, her mind in a turmoil. What was happening? What could be 
happening to her? 

Everything seemed suddenly alien. That hadn't been her husband's penis 
shoved into her vaginal cavity; that wasn't her husband's lips on her neck, 
his hands on her breasts, his hairy thighs between her pliant legs. And that 
wasn't her husband's cum pouring out of her still dilated and hopeful cunt. 

Beside her, John mumbled sleepily, and then said, "Good night, baby." 

Sue turned over toward him and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Good 
night," she said softly. 

Within seconds, it seemed, John's breath was coming evenly and he was sound 
asleep. Sue moved away from him, to the edge of their king-size bed, and lay 
on her side watching the fire slowly dwindle in the fireplace. Those flames 
were reluctant to die, just as the fire inside her loins refused to be 
extinguished. She had been within seconds of cumming, and then that sudden 
thought had so startled her, so stunned her by its vividness, that she had 
lost her orgasm; it had squirted away from her like a ball of quicksilver. 
She was deeply disturbed by what had happened. This marked the first time in 
her relationship with John that she hadn't reached a climax. The fire was 
dying now; one log cracked and the embers fell like little red stars off the 
grate. 

"The first time I've not had one," she said to herself, and then mentally 
tried to calculate how many climaxes she had achieved during her sex life 
with John. She smiled wryly, closing her eyes like a sleepy cat before the 
fireplace, and her lips formed the phrase, "About six hundred... until now." 

She opened her eyes and blinked, unwilling to go to sleep yet. This entire 
situation was something that couldn't be run away from in slumber; it was 
something she had to think out now. What was wrong with her? Why this 
attraction to other males? She loved her husband; she hadn't been to bed 
with any male except her husband since they had met. And before that, there 
had been one or two hasty affairs-not very satisfactory, not satisfactory at 
all! Terrible things: clutch-clutch, clinch, breathe hard, "bam-bam thank 
you, Ma'am," type of things in the back seat of cars or on plastic couches 
in some plastic male's plastic apartment. 

Only John had ever made her feel like a woman. No! No... that wasn't 
correct. There had been another one, a long-long time ago... 

Now... slowly... the curtains of her mind were parting, and with the first 
view of the past, she gasped in dismay. 

That was it! That was it! Now she knew who had been making love to her. Now 
she knew whose penis had been in there, whose lips had been on her breasts, 
whose hands had caressed her body. 

Of course! Even though it had happened only once and then a long time ago, 
she remembered it now as vividly as though it had occurred just seconds 
before. And, abruptly, Sue also knew why this apparition had returned to 
haunt her. 

"He lives here-in Sun Valley-three months out of every year... in the 
winter," she whispered softly to herself. "He lives here... " 

CHAPTER FOUR 

Sue lay there remembering her first tentative investigation into sex at 
fifteen. She was a "late starter"; that was her mother's fault. It hadn't 
been until her second year at Danton Girls School that a male had ever 
touched the intimate parts of her body. 

That male had been cousin Rod! Rod, only a high school senior himself, 
breathing hard and obviously aroused. It had taken place outside her 
dormitory, in the front seat of his car. He had awkwardly fondled her 
breasts and, for one wonderful second, he had caressed her fevered crotch 
area. She quickly took his hands away, but her abdomen was painfully awake 
and afire from the brief touch. Sue decided she must speak to someone about 
her feelings when Rod touched her, so lying in bed, fighting for courage and 
with the darkness hiding her blush, she stammered the question to her 
roommate Joan who, Sue knew, had given her all to more than one date. But 
then, Joan was a senior and seventeen! 

Sue explained what was bothering her. "Are you still a virgin?" Joan had 
asked. "Oh, yes." 

Joan was silent, apparently thinking, then asked, "Has he ever massaged your 
vagina with his finger?" 

Knowing her face must be the color of an Acapulco sunset, Sue nodded without 
answering, then realized the other girl couldn't see her. "Yes," she said 
finally. 

"Did you feel anything?" 

"Well... I felt excited! I felt as if I were about to blow up. It got worse 
and worse. I wanted something to happen." 

"Did you blow up? I mean did you suddenly feel as though you weren't in your 
body any more-something like that? Ecstasy? Shuddering? Did you relax right 
after?" 

Mournfully, Sue answered, "No. I kept feeling tight and tense for hours. Do 
you think I'm what they call 'frigid'?" 

Joan had answered immediately, "Just because you can't reach a climax when 
Rod plays with you, doesn't mean you're frigid, or even that you've got 
anything wrong. It's probably that you just haven't been able to relax... 
and so you can't cum." 

"Cum?" 

"You know, have an orgasm. 'Cum.' Like Rod does when you masturbate him." 

Sue shook her head, mystified, "I don't understand what you're saying." 

Joan suddenly switched on the light and stared at her in open-mouthed 
amazement. "You're putting me on. You aren't serious." Then she started 
laughing, "My God! It's the truth. You don't know what I'm talking about. 
Why... you ninny, where have you been all your life?" 

Sue could feel the tears of humiliation welling up in her eyes. "Don't make 
fun of me, please. I... don't know who else to ask... if you won't help me." 

Joan was immediately contrite. She patted Sue's hand. "I'm sorry, chum. 
Look... it's just that I didn't realize that you were that... that... " 

"Stupid... " Sue interrupted. 

"No, not stupid. 'Naive' would be more descriptive." 

Sue wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I don't know anything, and I 
mean 'anything,' about doing this sort of thing-with myself or with Rod." 

"You mean you haven't reached inside Rod's trousers and done the same thing 
to him that he's doing to you-fondling and caressing, I mean?" 

"No. Rod put my hand there once, but I didn't know what he wanted." 

Joan looked away, staring out the darkened window at the lights and shadows 
dancing in the trees on the campus. She pursed her lips, obviously trying to 
think of an introduction to her lecture. She shrugged finally. "Okay! Let's 
start at the beginning. First. You do know the basic components, don't you? 
I mean, how you are constructed differently from boys." She continued 
without waiting for an answer. "We have what the boys like to call a 'cunt'; 
our 'vagina.' in other words. They also call it a 'pussy,' a 'twat.' Oh, 
they have all sorts of little synonyms for it. They, on the other hand, have 
a penis; most of them refer to it as a 'prick' or 'cock.' The prick goes in 
the cunt; it moves back and forth." She illustrated by using her left 
forefinger and thumb as a circle and began plunging her middle finger of her 
right hand in and out of the circle. "That is called sexual intercourse or, 
to go along with a historical Anglo-Saxon phrase, 'fucking.' The first time 
you're fucked, it hurts like hell. You think you're going to be split right 
down the middle, and some women bleed like stuck pigs. The second time it 
hurts only a little less. The third time, if its done properly, it's fun... 
! Fun, hell, it's the god-damnedest greatest most glorious feeling in the 
world... that is, if the boy does it properly, and you get to cum. When you 
cum, you just explode down there. You lose all control of your body and 
mind, and your senses just run away with you. Your stomach and fanny jerk 
like a runaway puppet on the end of string. That's it, Sue... that's it! And 
the best part about it is that you know you made him feel just as good as 
you feel. He's cumming, and you feel him throbbing inside of you just as 
though there was a great big old hot hard heart pounding down there between 
your legs. And his cum is warm and slippery-like hot hand lotion-as it flows 
out of your vagina... " Joan stopped talking and swallowed; she was 
breathing heavily from just talking about the act. After a moment, she said, 
"There's only one thing, though. That's how babies are made. And believe me, 
sweetheart, that's the one thing I can do without... for now." 

"I wouldn't want to take a chance on having a baby, either," Sue said, 
shaking her red head emphatically. 

"No one does. But sometimes you get carried away. It feels so tremendous 
that you just don't give a damn, and, honestly, you couldn't help yourself 
even if you did care. You're helpless with desire, as they say in True 
Confessions. When that happens, if he's not wearing a rubber, you're going 
to have to douche yourself right away... and I do mean, right now! Within 
ten minutes." Joan grinned maliciously, "The Tri-Delts have been known to 
shake up a bottle of Coca-Cola and use that as a douche in an emergency. The 
best precaution, though, is just take 'The Pill,' the ever-loving pill; then 
you don't have to worry about anything." 

Sue was silent for almost a full minute while her brain digested the 
information. She was blushing again when she finally asked, "A minute ago 
you asked if Rod had an orgasm when I caressed him. You said 'masturbation,' 
didn't you?" Joan nodded, Sue continued. "Would he really... cum?" 

"Yes." 

"Would it... would it cause me to have a baby if some of his sperm got on 
me?" 

Joan laughed delightedly. "Not unless he came all the way inside of you, in 
your-pardon the term-'cunt'!" 

Sue abruptly made up her mind. "Joan... how do I do it? I mean how do I go 
about masturbating Rod?" 

"Why not ask him to show you? The mere thought of demonstrating for you 
ought to make him so hot that he'll cum the first stroke or two." 

Sue shook her head rapidly, blushing furiously, "Oh... no! I could never do 
that." 

Joan shrugged. "It's very simple. Just take his penis in your hand... put 
your hand all the way around it. Hold it tight. Don't worry about hurting 
him; I'm convinced the god-damned thing is almost indestructible! Hold it 
tight. Then move your hand back and forth real fast for a minute or two... 
as long as necessary. You'll know how long." 

Sue seemed surprised. "You mean that's all? Just back and forth?" She moved 
her hand in a jerky sideways motion across her chest. 

Joan burst out laughing again and said quickly, "Oh, Sweet Jesus, no! Not 
that way. Up and down. Up and down." 

"Will it make me cum, too?" 

"Sure. It should, if Rod returns the favor. Just remember though. Don't let 
him put his penis inside of you-even for a split second- unless he's wearing 
a rubber. Let him do anything else but don't let him in... unless he's 
wearing a rubber." she repeated. 

That had been Sue's introduction. The following night Sue carefully chose a 
revealing red knit sweater that showed off the full cleavage of her 
melon-like breasts, and a tight little cotton print skirt. With more 
assurance than she really felt, Sue walked across the green lawn to Rod's 
convertible. When he opened the door, she scooted in and her skirt came all 
the way up to reveal the golden tan of her thighs and the soft, almost 
imperceptible, little hairs above the knees. Instead of yanking down her 
skirt, she lifted it an inch higher as he walked around the back of the car 
to his own side. 

Rod fumbled the key into the ignition, and she saw him staring in hot-eyed 
wonder at her legs. "We're both uncertain of what to do," she said to 
herself, then grinned as she mentally added, "Well, we will find out... 
won't we, cousin?" 

Originally the plan had been to go to a movie, but without even discussing 
it, Rod drove up the winding highway toward Mount Baldy and a place which 
some of the girls referred to as "Baggy Wrap Gulch." Night was coming 
rapidly and it was completely dark before Rod pulled into a spot between two 
trees. The lights of the city were sparkling below them. They were both 
silent as they stared out into the night. Then, tentatively, Rod put his arm 
on the back of the seat. A moment later, his arm dropped around her 
shoulders. She snuggled in closer to him. 

Sue's heart was beginning to pound and she freely admitted to herself that 
she was frightened. Rod bent down and kissed her. It was not a very skillful 
kiss, she thought, or even enjoyable. A moment later though he French-kissed 
her. She liked that! It was exciting, she thought, as her cousin's hard 
tongue moved around in her mouth, taking possession of her oral cavity, 
rubbing the roof of her mouth as established superiority. She opened her 
mouth even wider and fought his tongue with her own. Rod pulled her 
shoulders forward and then turned her so that she was cradled in his arms 
with her long legs stretched out on the passenger's side of the seat. Now 
she felt his right hand moving surreptitiously on her left breast. She 
continued to kiss him. Emboldened, he began awkwardly massaging her breasts 
and, when she made no effort to stop him, he attempted to put his hand down 
the front of her sweater. She withdrew her mouth from his and sat up. In a 
soft voice, she asked, "Rod... what are you trying to do?" 

His breath was coming in hoarse gasps, and his voice was guttural when he 
said, "You know... " 

Sue was silent for a moment, then she answered, "All right." In the 
half-darkness she saw her cousin blink in surprise and happy disbelief. She 
saw his eyes open even wider when she put her arms behind her back, lifted 
her sweater, hunched her shoulders forward and unfastened the bra. Boldly, 
she lifted the sweater in front. The white round globes of flesh leaped for 
freedom with their nipples standing erect like very small brown penises. She 
dropped the bra on the floor of the car, then put her hands under her 
breasts and held them upright as though she were offering them to him as a 
gift. She had never done this before for anybody; she had always secretly 
felt she would be embarrassed, but actually it helped knowing he was her 
cousin, and not just any old boy. She was surprisingly calm-feeling her 
superiority growing over her cousin. Something was happening to her body; 
she could feel it. An excitement, a dull, painful pounding of her heart. A 
dryness of her throat. A sudden and unexpected heart in between her legs. 
Sue had never felt more alive in her life. And yet, she felt an 
incompleteness, a longing for something she couldn't define. Rod placed his 
hand on her bare and sensitive breast; she felt an electric shock go through 
her. Nothing she had ever experienced had felt so pleasurable before. She 
couldn't believe it. It was fabulous. Fantastic. Wonderful! And 
breath-taking. She involuntarily groaned low in her throat as his tongue 
roamed around in her mouth and his thumb and forefinger caught her nipple in 
a gentle squeeze. After a minute, Sue's breath was coming almost as harshly 
as the boy's. He pulled his mouth away from hers, and she felt a great 
disappointment as he seemingly tried to push her body away from his. But the 
disappointment was short-lived. A surge of ecstasy roared through her when 
she felt his lips seek and find her breast. The soft suction, the gentle 
nibbles on her breast, made all her previous feelings of pleasure fade into 
insignificance. "Oh... oh... oh... " she moaned, then cried out, "that's 
wonderful! Oh, that's wonderful." Now he seemingly was trying to swallow the 
entire breast, and the tremendous suction of his mouth together with the 
rough edge of his hot tongue teasing the nipple were driving her insane! 

Sue was so lost in all this that it came as a distinct surprise when she 
felt her cousin's uncertain hand move up between her fevered thighs and 
touch the already damp crotch of her bikini panties. Instinctively, she 
clamped her legs together, trapping his hand. Rod made no effort to do more 
than just rub gently; Sue was sure he didn't know what to do or how to do 
it. 

Rod shifted his body and she became aware of something hard and throbbing 
against her arm which was lying in his lap. She could feel the angry little 
seesaw movements of his abdomen. "That must be," Sue said to herself, "what 
Joan called his penis... or 'prick'." As she attempted to decide the next 
step, she abruptly realized that something was happening down there between 
her legs. Rod had inserted his middle finger between the elastic of her 
panty legs and was rubbing against the soft curling red pubic hairs. His 
finger briefly came into contact with her clitoris, and a powerful 
electrical shock surged through her belly. God, it felt so wicked... so 
delightful... so beautiful! Without her being made aware of it, Rod had 
moved her one leg away from the other. She didn't resist when he forced the 
leg off the seat onto the floor, leaving her spread-eagled with her virginal 
crotch unprotected, defenseless and incapable of resistance. 

A wild forest fire was being kindled down there. A fire that would roar out 
of control unless she could keep her mind clear and concentrate on something 
else. Rod's lips were trying to devour her breast; she could feel his teeth- 
it was almost painful, but so beautiful. That tender pain abruptly was 
shoved into the background of her consciousness as that vaginal flame 
spontaneously ignited and moved like an unstoppable crown fire across her 
virginal forest. Vaguely, she wondered if she were about to reach a climax; 
she wanted to, she had to... or she would die! Sue silently screamed, "Rod, 
darling! Harder. Harder! keep going. Do anything to me! Anything! Just put 
out the fire, please. Make me feel... make the feeling go away... make me... 
burst open-blow up." Rod's finger sawed across her cuntal lips as though the 
digit were a bow being used by a maddened bass fiddle player. Sue 
experienced breathing difficulty, but that didn't matter to her. Nothing 
mattered! Nothing! 

Then, without warning just as those delicious storm clouds within her pussy 
began to build up into thunderheads-clouds that would bring the cooling 
rains to douse the fire-Rod stopped completely. 

His breath sounded as if he had run a cross country race. His body trembled. 
The grinding seesaw motions of his lower abdomen had grown so strong that it 
actually caused pain to her ribs. Rod's spittle slid dryly down his 
constricted throat as he attempted to swallow. 

Sue could feel his entire body trembling; his hand was shaking like that of 
an old man suffering from palsy when he took her right hand and placed it on 
the bulge of his throbbing penis beneath his pants. 

Well, here it is, Sue thought. This is the moment when I find out if Joan 
knew what she was talking about. Sue's voice was low, almost inaudible, as 
she whispered, "Rod, darling?" 

"Huh?" 

"What do you want me to do?" 

He didn't seem to understand. He sat there, open-mouthed and panting, in a 
daze of passion. 

"Rod... show me. Please, darling; I've never done this before." 

He swallowed again. Then he shifted her body slightly to the right, and she 
felt his hand tumbling with his Levi's. His zipper whispered, and he fumbled 
some more. Abruptly, Sue felt a warm hard rod pressing against the bare skin 
of her back. Her cousin pulled her body toward him. His tongue now dug deep 
into her mouth, and as he did so, he placed her hand upon his penis. This, 
she thought, couldn't have been confined inside his trousers; it was too 
huge. No man could keep a thing like this inside his pants without it being 
visible. Rod groaned with her touch. 

Sue went back over the instructions, then feeling a little foolish, began 
doing what Joan had said to do. She tightened her fingers around the prick. 
Her cousin groaned even louder, and in obvious pleasure. She moved her hand 
and, surprisingly felt the skin-hard and warm and soft all at once, like the 
pliable scruff of an animal -move with her hand. She could feel the hard 
ridges beneath the skin, and the prick itself throbbed like the heart of 
some wild living thing. "Oh... ahhh... that's fabulous!" Rod panted. Sue 
began moving her hand rapidly back and forth. His penis now was growing even 
thicker. Her cousin no longer was making any attempt whatsoever to kiss or 
fondle her. He simply lay against the front seat with his mouth hanging 
laxly open, like a man who is near unconsciousness. Sue's arm and hand 
muscles were beginning to tire because of the awkward position in which she 
was lying. She ceased her stroking in order to shift into a more comfortable 
position, and as she did so, Rod groaned as if he were strangling. "Don't 
stop now; Jesus! Keep going... keep going, baby." 

Sue, wanting desperately to please her cousin, quickly shifted and began 
using her left hand to stroke the throbbing rod. Within seconds she had 
regained her earlier rhythm. She used her right hand to cradle his 
testicles. Now, her head was almost at belt level, only inches from the 
great pulsating hot stick with its purple head. Rod's entire pelvis moved 
frantically up and down in rhythm with her hand. Each upward thrust caused 
his penis to come closer and closer to her face. The excitement was building 
up in Sue, as well, and part of the excitement came from bringing pleasure 
to him. The thought of what she was doing merely added fuel to her own 
arousal. The fire was now roaring out of control, unstoppable, and 
uncontainable, in the hidden gullies of her womb. She wanted to feel Rod 
inside her; she knew she wanted to be fucked, had to be fucked... if that 
was what it took. She wanted to be raped... anything, just so long as the 
fires were put out. As his prick came closer and closer to her lips, it 
seemed to grow monstrously. The little hole that had been in the center had 
expanded until it looked as if a pencil could be inserted there. Rod's hands 
suddenly left the steering wheel and took her head, pushing her face closer 
to it. "Suck it, baby, suck it, suck it!" he cried frantically. For just a 
split second, Sue was revolted by the request, but then the memory of him 
sucking on her breasts and the deliriously enjoyable feeling it had brought 
made her want to return the favor. Obediently, she bent her head and opened 
her mouth. Her cousin lost no time in cramming the hot throbbing cock into 
her throat. Sue thought she would choke. She continued to move her hand up 
and down the shaft as she sucked at the head. Suddenly, Rod made one savage 
movement which almost shoved the instrument of love down to her tonsils, and 
her mouth was filled with a hot pulsating thick cream that spurted like a 
never-ending fountain all the way down her throat. She gagged and attempted 
to swallow, but there was simply too much to handle. She choked and felt 
Rod's hands pull her mouth away; her lips reluctantly left the cock, which 
continued to spew out semen. The jism hit her face and eyebrows and 
splattered over her sweater. It shot into her hair and flowed out of the 
corners of her mouth to drip off her chin down the front of her sweater 
where it hung to the wool like milky drops of perspiration. 

Rod had said, "Oh, Jesus, Sue baby. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that." He 
fell back into a slumped position, still breathing hoarsely, against the 
door. The penis slowly deflated until it was no larger than an oversized and 
very wrinkled little sausage. 

Sue used her hands to wipe the cum from her chin and forehead. That stream 
of liquid from Rod's cock had not put out the fires raging in her own 
vagina. They roared unabated through the virgin forests-burning desolately 
in the far reaches of the wilderness areas of her pussy. She knew 
instinctively that the fun and games were over as far as Rod was concerned. 
Her fires would continue to burn. Rod's climax had come in her mouth and Sue 
did not feel resentful about it. It was a good thing that one of them had 
been able to obtain relief. Still, though, she was afire and for some reason 
she felt like weeping. She wanted to claw at her body, to relieve it, to 
punish it. 

All of these thoughts were raging through her mind as she silently used 
Rod's shirt tails to dry her face and breasts and hair. 

Then Rod seemed to get hold of himself. He turned to her and began caressing 
her breasts again. They were painfully sensitive, but still it felt good. A 
moment later, he pushed her down until she was lying almost full-length on 
the car seat. 

She lay there with her eyes closed for a moment, waiting, waiting for 
something else to happen. She looked up and saw Rod had kicked off his 
shoes, and was in the process of pulling clown his pants. Even as she 
watched his beautiful prick was swelling again. It twitched like the tail of 
an angry wild lion released from a cage. Rod was nude as he pulled her 
sweater over her head, and with one quick motion unzipped her skirt and 
removed it. Now both teenagers were naked. 

Sue was afire, but she was scared as well. She lay there, eyes wide and 
frightened, like some helpless bird confronted by a snake. The snake was 
coming closer, closer... closer, in a familiar charade. She opened her mouth 
to receive it. 

Abruptly, with the first saline taste of his hot throbbing cock, the fright 
left her. She wanted it all again. 

Rod seemed to be making some unusually awkward movements. He kneeled above 
her, with his back to the right side of the door and his face toward the 
steering wheel. Sue had to tilt her head back in order to keep the 
instrument in her mouth. As she sucked eagerly on his cock, he slowly 
lowered his ass, driving the pulsating rod further and further into her 
throat. Sue thought she was going to choke. Little gagging noises came from 
her mouth. She had put up her hands against his hip bones in order to push 
him away when she felt the first gentle little kiss of his hot lips against 
her love-starved cunt. Sue almost went insane. Rod began to lick that aching 
slit, and the touch of his tongue was the most glorious thing she had ever 
experienced. She moaned as the ripples of joy spread out. Rod licked from 
clitoris to tightly puckered little anus, lapping like a thirsty dog. Then 
he changed technique and his lips became a vacuum cleaner at her vagina. For 
a moment it felt as though he were attempting to suck every organ right out 
of her body. Then, his tongue was forcing apart the fleshy hair-lined lips 
of the moist furrow. Without further ado, his tongue drove deep down into 
it, and Sue tried to scream in delirious joy, but the cock deep in her 
throat elicited only a moan. She closed her soft warm thighs convulsively 
around either side of his moving head. She could feel his ears against the 
inside of her knees. She gurgled out a scream when, in a moment of passion, 
Rod cruelly bit her sensitive clitoris. 

Sue instinctively attempted to give him pleasure with her own tongue, but 
his cock really was too large. It was a piledriver banging in and out of her 
mouth. She was making gasping, gagging noises. She was choking. It was 
impossible to take it any longer. She was suffocating. She would die. She 
clawed at his buttocks in an effort to make him pull out, but the sharp 
raking pain of her fingernails slashing across his gleaming white globes 
only drove him on until he was so deep into her throat that his pubic hairs 
were pressing up against her nostrils and slobbering lips. It didn't matter! 
It didn't matter, for things were happening in her cunt. The tip of his 
tongue was circling the quivering erected clitoris; his mouth sucked, 
pulling the warm soft folds of her vaginal lips against his bared teeth and 
into the red hot caverns of his mouth. 

She was completely at his mercy. Lost! A love slave willing to die from 
love. Nothing existed but the fire in her cunt and the joy sausage in her 
throat. Her back was an arched bridge as it bent upward toward Rod's eager 
lips. Her feet hit the car door handle, but pain was unnoticed. And then, 
incredibly... it was happening-the explosion that Joan had talked about was 
here. Indescribably beautiful. 

"Oh... ohhh! Aggghh! I'm dimming!" She mumbled inarticulately because of the 
cock in her mouth. She threw her legs apart slamming her knee against the 
steering wheel, as the convulsions began in her vagina and spread out into 
the abdominal area. The contracting muscles of her innermost sex spat out 
more lubricant, and it rushed like a hot sticky roaring white tide to flood 
into the estuaries of his mouth. He continued to lick; she continued to cum. 
And through it all, she felt a far-off sense of disappointment because his 
hot throbbing rod had been pulled from her mouth. Even as she lay there, 
almost senseless from the overwhelming ecstasy of her climax, she tried to 
return it to her mouth-seeking it like a blind un-weaned calf looking for 
the milk teat. 

But the prick was gone, Rod had moved away from her. For a moment, she 
assumed the sex act had been concluded between them. Then, she felt Rod 
decisively pulling her legs apart and lifting her knees so that the bottom 
of her feet were pressed flat against the leather seat. She opened her eyes. 
Rod's face was next to hers; he kissed her savagely, and she tasted the 
honey of her own cunt and her own cum. 

Gradually, Rod lowered himself onto her body. And now she could feel the 
hardness of that awesome male instrument down there where, only a moment 
before, the sweet softness of his mouth had been. She was about to be 
fucked-really fucked. By a man! The knowledge did not dismay her, but she 
could feel herself tensing, preparing for the pain Joan had told her was to 
come. 

Abruptly then, as she felt the spongy hardness of his throbbing hot cock 
against her eager pussy lips, she gasped and shoved against his chest. "No, 
Rod. You can't. I don't want a baby." 

Rod laughed clown at her. "Silly, I don't want you to have one. Here, feel 
this." He took her hand and pulled it over to his prick; it should have felt 
wet from her mouth, but it was dry now and there was an alien, "non-skin" 
feel about the thing. "I'm wearing a rubber," he explained. "You'll be 
okay." 

Sue forced herself to relax. So let it be, she thought in resignation. I 
really do want to be fucked. I want to feel him inside of me. She tried to 
relax, willed herself to loosen her tight abdominal muscles, and she thought 
she had been successful-but, when the huge purple head of Rod's prick 
brushed against her clitoris, she felt no joy. Gradually, almost 
imperceptibly, Rod began gentle little up and down movements along the crack 
of her vaginal opening-lubricating his prick on her slippery cum. Now, a 
tentative probe... the knob of the cock was just inside her. It really was 
inside her! She was surprised. It was supposed to hurt the first time a man 
did it to you, she thought. But... but... why! This isn't painful at all! I 
feel like I'm being stretched down there, but in spite of that, it feels... 
wonderful. 

Rod contented himself with gently moving the head in and out of that 
slippery moist furrow. Abruptly, Sue was excited again as the last glow from 
her earlier climax evaporated in the heat of this new fire. She could feel 
his hot hard flesh pacing like a restless caged tiger back and forth across 
the full length of her quivery open slit. It was maddening to her. It was 
beautiful. She had to have more... she wanted him deep inside of her-just as 
Joan had described. Her hips twisted. "Fuck me. Fuck me hard," she cried, 
pushing her pelvis up against the invading shaft of hot blood and muscle. 

Rod did not answer; he merely continued the maddening tease of a little in, 
and a little out. Not hurrying, not worrying. 

"Give it to me... push it in all the way... please." Rod merely kissed her. 

A moment later, though, he pushed inward a bit more... until almost two 
inches of his prick was lodged within. Only then, did Sue begin to feel some 
real discomfort. It felt wonderful, but... her cunt seemed to be stretching. 
He had been too big for her after all! She was thinking of asking him to 
stop when, suddenly, he quit kissing her and pulled back with a puzzled 
expression on his face. His huge penis was two inches in her. He withdrew it 
until only the knob was buried in the soft pink furrow of her outer vaginal 
lips. Ah, that was better, she thought. She moved in cooperation with him. 
As he came down, she came up. Again he stopped when only two inches were in 
her. The excitement was coming back, as was his surprised look. She had 
gotten used to his cock; her vagina had accommodated him after all. She 
moaned deep in her throat. She wanted it all again; she wanted everything. 
Convulsively she splayed her legs wide and, using both hands, grabbed the 
cheeks of his ass and propelled him inward with a violent thrust. The huge 
seven inch prick drove in until the balls slapped against her asshole. 

"Aieeee... " she screamed. The searing white flame of pain flashed through 
her. She had been torn apart by a thunderclap of agony. She was dying. 
Nothing in her entire life had been this painful before. Nothing could ever 
be again. Nothing Joan had said or implied had prepared her for this. She 
shrieked again, and an apprehensive Rod smothered her screams with his 
mouth. She attempted to throw him off; she kicked, she squirmed, she threw 
her body from side to side, slamming him and herself against the dashboard 
and steering wheel. She clawed his back bloody with her fingernails. She 
tried every way to pull her impaled cunt away from that arrow of agony. But 
each movement only deepened the pain, deepened the penetration. Finally, she 
lay still, not moving... her muscles as tense as steel cables, her body 
quivering like a bird caught in a net. 

Except for attempting to quieten her screams, Rod had made absolutely no 
movement since she had forced the penetration. He was buried up to the hilt 
in her; it felt as if it were in deep enough to come out her throat. Tears 
streamed down Sue's face. After a moment, Rod removed his mouth from hers. 

He wore a look of stunned incredulity when he said hoarsely, almost in 
disbelief, "Hey... you were a cherry, a virgin! Christ, why didn't you tell 
me? I would have been more gentle if I had known that. I knew I was having 
trouble getting into you, but I thought maybe you were wearing something in 
there. A virgin... " He still looked as if he couldn't believe it, in spite 
of the all too obvious evidence. 

She sobbed in pain an shame, "I... thought... you'd laugh at me." 

"Look, I'm sorry I hurt you. I didn't mean to." He held his body rigid, not 
moving at all. 

"It's all right," Sue said. Strangely enough, just in the last few seconds, 
everything was beginning to change. She had lost her virginity. It was gone! 
Goodbye, forever! Now, she wondered, what do we do next? What am I supposed 
to do? The pain was definitely lessening. 

Rod's cock twitched involuntarily, and she became aware that he was still 
inside of her; there was no question about that! Earlier, when she screamed 
she wanted it all... all of it inside her, she had no way of knowing exactly 
what that meant. Now she knew! lie was deep; he couldn't be any deeper if he 
had another ten inches. There were seven and a half hard, hot inches of 
him-inside there, inside her, throbbing away like a second heart. The pain 
was still there, but it was only an echo of the earlier agony. Her pussy 
seemed crammed and stretched beyond capacity. And yet? 

She felt one sympathetic eager little muscle twitch in her pussy. There was 
an answering throb from Rod's prick. That solid muscular shaft jerked again, 
and her cunt responded with a vaginal contraction which brought a moan of 
pleasure from him. Somewhere in the area of what she assumed was her cervix, 
she felt abdominal-womb muscles moving against the pulsating head of his 
cock. She could feel it- feel it all... all of him... and it was beautiful 
beyond compare. The center of her being was down there; all her sensations 
came from there. She could even feel the stiff pubic hairs on his scrotum 
tickling her anus, and the sensation was strangely pleasurable. 

Sue began experimenting with movement, mostly muscle movement in the cheeks 
of her ass and along her inner thighs. She tentatively dipped her pelvis and 
the rod moved an inch outward. That hurt a bit. Rod apparently was willing 
to let her take the initiative... at least for now. She timidly pushed up 
with her pelvis and the sword sank back into its sheath again. That hurt... 
or did it? Abruptly Sue decided it didn't hurt at all. She dipped her 
abdomen and Rod's prick slowly withdrew about an inch and a half. Then she 
forgot herself for a moment and eagerly pushed up. "Oh... " the groan came 
involuntarily from her. It hurt. Rod pulled back again. This time she pushed 
up cautiously; it didn't hurt. The little movements continued for a minute 
or two, each one becoming less painful than the one proceeding it. Now, the 
cum from her earlier orgasm mixed with the blood of her broken hymen to form 
a super-lubricant, and she found she could take a thrust of two inches. 
Slowly... and gently. Thrust. Withdrawal. Thrust... withdrawal. Two and a 
half-three-three and a half... easy... easy does it. 

Her body was returning to life. She could feel the far-off reverberations of 
ecstasy in her breasts and upper abdomen. The metronome of Rod's penis was 
moving in and out in time to music only their bodies could hear. Most of the 
pain was gone! There was a velvet wonderful-ness now deep inside her womb; 
it was electric. That feeling grew until lightning arced its way across 
nerves and ganglions to short out her centers of reason and sanity in a 
shower of delicious sparks. Nothing mattered now but man and woman-cock and 
cunt. Sue wildly began rotating her hips from side to side around that 
godlike instrument of delight. Her pussy seemed to be acting with a mind of 
its own- paying homage to the savage cudgel battering into it. Her cuntal 
muscles had enclosed the cock, caressing it and massaging it, not wanting to 
let it leave for even a moment. She was being fucked! She was being 
fucked-and she loved it! By some incredible osmosis, her pussy was devouring 
his prick. Her body was attempting to pull him, his entire body, inside of 
her through that little opening clown there. 

The tempo increased, and Rod's prick began withdrawing almost its entire 
length before slamming down through those moist hair-lined caverns of 
cuntdom. Sue sensed what was happening down there; she could visualize 
it-even though she had never seen it before. In her mind, she could see the 
thin soft pink ridges of her vagina clinging lovingly-puckeringly-to the 
penis as it withdrew and she screwed her ass down into the car seat. Then 
the entry-that fiery reentry from cold lonely outer space-pushing the soft 
folds back into her. Rod's glistening penis, like a round all-white Roman 
candle disappearing into the warm depths of that cavern between her 
outspread legs. 

Rod began taking charge of the entire situation. Sue was happy to let him do 
so. Pain was forgotten now; no pain could ever make headway against that 
exquisite velvet explosion building up inside her. Like a toreador with a 
cape, his movements expertly moved and headed her to a point she had been 
seeking intuitively all her life. She was coming closer, but still it was 
not close enough. She egged Rod on to deeper, more rapid thrusts. She 
grabbed his buttocks and wantonly pulled him into her. She felt herself 
approaching it now. It was unbelievable. Her body was being taken over by 
some outside force. Her thrusts became more urgent; she was aware that her 
mouth was opened in a grimace of lust and ecstasy; her tongue was pressing 
so hard against her lower teeth that it had begun to bleed. Her breasts 
darkened, her nipples looked as if they were about to drop off. The first 
far-off rumblings of a powerful earthquake began to quiver in her womb. She 
threw herself against Rod's prick; she was a marlin attempting to dislodge 
the hook deep within her. It was now. It was now! 

"Now," she cried, and her back arched up high off the leather seat, and her 
knees-like a powerful vise-clamped against his buttocks. She found her hands 
grabbing for Rod's scrotum and violently rubbing it against her anal ring as 
though she were trying to fill that cavity as well. 

"Ah... ah... I'm cumming... Aaaahhh... Aieeeee!" She threw herself back on 
the seat. Her body twitched uncontrollably. Her feet and legs pounded 
against the back of the seat and dashboard, and she made loud sucking noises 
as her tongue dropped down the back of her throat. The convulsions of love 
continued, and, through it all, an exaltation that was greater than any 
religious fervor raged in her nerves, muscles and flesh. Above everything 
the thought came, "Never before... and never again can anything feel so 
beautiful as this." She was wrong, though, for a moment later-while she 
herself was still in the throes of the orgasm-she felt Rod's penis abruptly 
grow larger and larger. It seemed to fill her womb like some rapidly 
expanding, hot, hard balloon. Then it began to throb, and it exploded down 
there. 

"I'm cumming," he groaned. 

"Cum, darling, cum," she said, wanting to repay him. She felt the first 
spurt as his ejaculation spewed. Her cunt instinctively squeezed his 
instrument, sucking at it, straining to pull it all into her. Suddenly, she 
hated his rubber! It was as though she was being denied a part of him. His 
cum was a life-giving white hot lava that should have completely filled her 
female cavities and, when his volcano continued to erupt, the molten flow 
should have spilled out of her pink quivering quim to flow down the 
crevasse, across the white mounds of her still twitching buttocks. But the 
rubber prevented all of this. She wanted to feel the cum on her, wanted the 
slipperiness of it against her belly and ass and legs. 

Rod was still inside of her. She would not let him out, even if he indicated 
he wanted to withdraw. She didn't want him ever to take it out again. Never! 
This was heaven. 

The wild storm was moving rapidly away, leaving behind a beautiful sunset in 
her body. 

Sue felt Rod take a deep sigh. He stared down at her with something akin to 
wonderment and admiration on his face. "You're incredible, cousin," he said, 
finally. "You've just got to have the best pussy I've ever been in. And this 
was your first time. I wonder what you'll be like in five years." 

Sue knew she was blushing from the compliment. She lifted her face to kiss 
him. She felt an overwhelming gratitude to her cousin; he had guided her to 
a place she had not known existed before. It was a land of love where 
hardness and softness-the cock and the cunt-embrace each other and become 
one. Her cousin had given her pleasure, true pleasure, and before this the 
word had been merely a hollow, meaningless phrase. When she pulled her lips 
away from his, she said huskily, "Thank you." 

Rod's prick had deflated inside her, and now he began withdrawing it. She 
felt it leave her body-feeling as though some integral part of her was 
departing forever. It came out with a slight plopping noise and, in its 
passing, she only then felt the coolness of the bare seat against her thighs 
and buttocks. 

She watched as Rod stripped the rubber from his cock; it slipped off easily, 
and Sue found herself fighting the desire to lick his penis clean-like a 
mother cat and a helpless kitten. 

She had thought she would be embarrassed when it came time to dress again, 
but there was no coyness between them. They dressed silently, then Rod 
started the car, backed it out, and drove down the mountain. 

He pulled up in front of her dormitory, came around, and opened the door. 
She sat there, silent for a moment, deliberating whether to ask the question 
or not. Then, mentally, she shrugged and asked it. "Rod... tell me... where 
did you learn to do... things like you... did to me... tonight?" 

He stared down at her. Then nodded. "You won't tell anyone, I guess. It's 
sort of a family affair. Jejune!" 

Sue gasped. "Jejune?" 

"Um-huh. Cousin Jejune." 

"But... but... she's older." 

Rod snorted. "I'm seventeen, she's twenty-six. She taught me these 
things-these things a woman likes-when I was only thirteen." Then he 
laughed. "You might say we're keeping sex education in the family, instead 
of relying on the schools." 

"But... Jejune?" Sue was astonished. Jejune was the real socialite of the 
family. Rich, pampered... and something else she hadn't wanted to tell Rod. 
There was something strange about Jejune"... a thing that frightened Sue. 
Jejune had kissed her in the boathouse one summer two years before, and it 
was not a kiss that one woman gives to another-it was a man-woman kiss. 
Well, maybe she was wrong, maybe it had just been her imagination. 

Rod walked her up to the front door. "How about tomorrow night?" he asked. 

"All right," she said, feeling the glow of forbidden excitement already 
beginning in her abdomen. 

But tomorrow night had not come. When Rod had gone back to his own quarters, 
there had been a telegram telling him of his father's death. Rod didn't 
return to school that year... and, at his mother's request, he had enrolled 
in an East Coast school. 

That had been the last time she had seen her cousin... eight years ago. She 
had been a child then, and now sleepily, she wondered what she was... ? She 
wondered if he would even remember her, and that thought brought her wide 
awake again. For she suddenly realized she was going to make an effort to 
locate him here in Sun Valley. 

CHAPTER FIVE 

Sue was strangely quiet during breakfast out on the sun terrace. At first 
John thought she was beginning to think about chickening out on the ski 
lessons, but when he asked if she was worried about getting on the slopes 
she had answered with an emphatic shake of her head. 

She really looks great, John thought, like a god-damned movie actress! And 
those ski pants fitting snugly on her rounded buttocks were almost as sexy 
as that new black peignoir she bought for the trip. Her breasts pushed 
against the bulky red and white ski sweater, and there was absolutely no 
doubt in anyone's mind at all that those were all hers-no padding and 
probably no bra, either. 

John had seen several males gazing in open speculation at her, with a couple 
of men doing a double take, as though they thought they knew her from the 
television or something... or thought they should know her. That pleased 
him, knowing he owned the best piece of merchandise in a place that was 
simply packed to the gunnels with ("lass A, number one premium talent. "Kat 
your hearts out, you poor unfortunate bastards," John said to himself, 
smirking. "This is one female you'll have to speculate about, because you'll 
never-not in a hundred years-get your pecker in there. That's my territory." 

Sue seemed oblivious to the open stares of admiration. She absent-mindedly 
stirred her coffee, and John realized then that something was really 
bothering her because she never used sugar or cream, so she was merely 
contemplating the spoon and cup. "Honey," he said, and received no answer 
from her. "Darling!" It was said sharper this time, and she looked up and 
blinked. 

"What's wrong?" he asked. 

She smiled at him, a closed-mouth smile without too much humor in it, but 
lots of love and affection. She stared at him, and John was forced to ask 
again, "What's wrong? Aren't you feeling well?" 

Wordlessly she shook her head to indicate she was okay, then she carefully 
put her spoon in the saucer and took a deep breath. "John... do you remember 
once... my telling you about my father's brother and his family-the 
Morgans?" 

"Yeh! Sure. Your late Uncle Rod and Rod, Junior? Junior is the jet-setter 
isn't he?" 

She shrugged. "All I know about Rod-Junior-is what I read in the newspaper 
clippings that Aunt Martha sends me once in a while." 

"Well... what about Junior?" 

She smiled patiently. "His name, darling, is Rod... not Junior. His father's 
dead." 

"Junior-schmoonyer. He's your cousin. Right?" 

"Yes." She stared past him, watching a girl doing pirouettes on the ice 
skating rink. "What would you think about my calling him? He lives here." 
Then glancing at him, she continued more rapidly, eagerly, "Maybe we could 
get together with him and have cocktails." 

John hesitated. He didn't know anything about Rod except that he didn't have 
to work and spent most of his time chasing around the world-following the 
sun or the snow-and surrounding himself with what the newspaper society 
columnists like to call "The Beautiful People." He thought about it, 
weighing the advantages and disadvantages of getting involved with family 
while he was on vacation. Then, uncaring, he shrugged. "Whatever you want to 
do." 

She brightened. "You really wouldn't mind?" 

"If it will make you happy, go right ahead." 

Now Sue's eagerness was an evident thing. "I'll call him. Maybe he isn't 
here now. If he is... and if he invites us to anything... what shall I say?" 

"Well, love, if you call him, you'd seem a bit of a shit if you didn't 
accept any invitation." 

Sue glanced about her furtively, appearing embarrassed, "John... your 
language." 

He laughed and stood. "Do whatever you want. Me? I'm going skiing." He 
paused, staring down boldly at her breasts and at the unconcealable Y where 
her lime green nylon ski pants came together at the junction of her thighs. 
He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively a couple of times. "F... ah... could be 
persuaded to... ah... go later. After a little exercise?" 

Sue blushed and gazed apprehensively around her again. "John! Go... skiing." 
Then she dimpled, "That will be ready for you when you come back." 

He suddenly became very serious. "Take it easy on the 'bunny slope,' love. I 
wouldn't want you in a cast; that would probably mean no dancing or 
anything." 

"Don't worry, I'll be careful," she promised. 

Twenty minutes later, John was tightening the quick-release bindings on his 
Head skis and preparing to hop aboard the chairlift which went to the top of 
one of the intermediate ski runs. He planned to try this slope a couple of 
times this morning and gradually work his way over to the most difficult run 
of all. 

He swung into the line, waiting for an available chair to swing down. A 
well-packaged little blonde, wearing a cossack fur hat and a really 
tight-fitting red jump suit, swung into line opposite him. They grinned 
companionably at each other. "Not bad," John mentally intoned. "A fine 
constructed little piece, that. About eighteen-needs educating. Probably 
fucks like a rabbit, but doesn't have any idea of the finer aspects of 
screwing." 

The lift attendant grabbed the chair as it moved around the cable housing 
and held up the bar. John and the girl quickly moved into the load line. The 
chair began moving, hit the back of their knees-causing them to sit-and the 
bar was locked into place by the attendant. Then they were swinging free of 
the ground. 

"First time today?" John asked, casually inspecting the girl out of the 
corner of his eye. She did have a nice cuddlesome little figure. Tits were 
okay-not half as good as Sue's, but acceptable. And a nice rounded little 
ass that just begged for a kneading. 

"Oh... I've been out since eight this morning," she answered, staring boldly 
and openly at him. "Might as well get up and out early; those idiots at the 
Inn won't let you sleep after six anyway." 

"Too bad," John said, a trifle absent-mindedly, because their thighs were 
pressed together and he could feel the heat of the girl's body through his 
own clothes. They had sat down together this way, and although there was 
room for either of them to move, the girl showed no inclination to separate. 
So... what the hell, he thought. 

The girl pointed suddenly up the hill toward a black speck hurdling down the 
hill. "That's Tony Fitzgerald. The idiot. He's going too fast for this 
slope; the shadows are pretty badly iced through that one area up there. He 
has a suicide complex, I think," she said, half seriously. 

John grinned. "Not me, though. Where's home?" he asked, suddenly changing 
the conversation. 

"Home's San Francisco. But I go to Stanford." 

John mentally said to himself, "And I'll bet you're a freshman and you're 
majoring in English." Then aloud, he asked, "What year? What are you 
studying?" 

"Freshman. I'm taking as many English courses as I can. Where's home for 
you?" 

"San Francisco." 

"Small world! Where are you staying here?" She asked it directly, without 
coyness. "At the Lodge." 

"Neat. I wish I could afford to stay there." She made a half grimace. "I'm 
in the dorm at the Inn. What I wouldn't give just to sit by a fireplace and 
a chance to take a shower or soak in a tub without a bunch of other girls 
around!" Then she tossed out the question John would have been willing to 
bet a thousand dollars that she was going to ask. "Do you have a fireplace?" 

He nodded, waiting, amused, knowing he was about to be propositioned by this 
very sexy little girl. And together with the amusement there was a feeling 
of regret at having to let her go away unscrewed by him. She probably 
wouldn't be much of a fuck compared to his wife and Dorothy, but she was 
fresh and eager... and almost anything he did with her would be new and 
wring squeals of delight from her. That would be fun! But impossible. 

She pursed her lips, and inspected his figure from top to skis. "A 
fireplace. A nice hot tub. Some people have all the luck. And I suppose you 
have a wife... with you?" 

John sighed. "I'm afraid so." 

She shrugged. "Too bad... " 

They had reached the top of the lift and, released from their chair, the 
girl simply dug in with her poles and went slooshing off down the slope. 

John watched her figure fade and then disappear altogether as she traversed 
in back of a line of timber. He wondered once again, as he had so many times 
in the last six months, why it was that he no longer was satisfied with just 
one woman. If he had thought there was any chance of moving this little 
blonde cunt into the Lodge and his being able to get away with it without 
Sue finding out, he would not have hesitated a second. It would have been 
worth the couple of hundred bucks. And he knew also that he would have 
screwed her into the mattress like she had never been screwed before, and he 
would have fucked her morning, noon and night. But... no sense in bitching 
about things you can't change... 

He bent and checked his bindings once again, then began the long downward 
trek. 

CHAPTER SIX 

There were several Morgans listed in the telephone directory, but no Rod 
Morgan. There was, however, an R. Morgan who lived on Chateau Chalet Road. 
With mixed emotions, Sue dialed the number. The phone rang several times and 
then a foreign, possibly Spanish, female voice answered. 

For a split second Sue thought about hanging up, but she had gone this far 
and it did seem ridiculous to visit Sun Valley and not pay her respects to a 
member of the family. "Pardon me," she said, "but is this the residence of 
Rod Morgan?" 

"Yes." That was all the information volunteered by the heavily accented 
voice. "Is Mister Morgan there?" 

"No." 

"Do you expect him soon?" 

"Who ees calleng puleez?" 

"This is Sue Morgan Bigelow. Rod and I are cousins." 

Only then did the faceless voice seem to relent. Compared to its earlier 
noncommittalness, it sounded positively friendly when the woman said, "Oh, 
si! A relative! Un momento, I tell Senora Morgan." There was a clatter as 
the telephone was laid down on the other end of the line, then footsteps 
fading away into the distance. 

After a delay of almost a full minute, there was a click as an extension 
phone somewhere in the chalet was picked up and another female voice came on 
the line. "Sue? Sue Morgan?" 

"Yes. Is this... Rod's wife?" 

"No, you goose. It's Jejune. Where in hell are you?" 

"Jejune! I'm at the Lodge. It's so great to hear your voice again after all 
these years." 

The two cousins exchanged pleasantries for a few moments before Sue asked, 
"Are you staying with Rod?" 

"My husband-my fifth, or is it my sixth husband; sometimes I loose 
track!-anyway, my husband and I are here for a couple of days. We leave for 
Mazatlan on Sunday. Rod's up on the slopes right now, and Donna is in the 
sauna, or she would have greeted you herself. Seems something's wrong with 
the bloody telephone in there-must be the heat. When will we see you?" 

"Well... I really hadn't thought... " 

"Don't be anti-social, darling! After all, we are relatives--all kissing 
cousins. Come up for cocktails and dinner; better yet, come up for lunch. 
Are you by yourself?" 

"I'm married now." Sue didn't add that the wedding invitations to both 
Jejune and Rod had been returned with all sorts of exotic-looking postage 
marks and foreign notations on them- as undeliverable. 

"Bring him along." 

"Look, we don't want to intrude." 

"Don't be ridick. Rod will be simply furious if you don't. And Donna will be 
hurt; you two have never met, have you? She's a dear! Besides," she gushed, 
"I want you to meet my husband, Kirk DeLapp; you probably remember reading 
his name in the sports section. He sponsors race cars at Indianapolis and 
places like that." 

Sue really hadn't heard of him, but she hummed over the phone as if she were 
surprised. 

Jejune continued animatedly, "Anyway, darling. Come on up. Right now! I'll 
have Manuel bring the station wagon down and pick you up." 

"Right now?" 

"Why not?" 

"Well... John's up on the slopes." She didn't add that he had said he 
wouldn't be back for lunch, would probably eat up at the lift cafeteria 
rather than come back all the way to the Lodge. This arrangement had been 
made because Sue was enrolled in the beginner's ski school and was expected 
to lunch with her instructor the first day. 

"Leave him a note. Do you ski?" 

"I'm learning." 

"Well, hell, then! Why not let Kirk-who was almost on the winter Olympics 
team once -and Rod teach you. Rod's a great skier. You couldn't have any 
better instructors, and I know they'd love to." 

A sudden spark of excitement ignited in Sue; that sounded fabulous. It would 
be something to brag about when they got back... might even make that 
supercilious John, who thought he was such a great skier, a little envious. 
The words bubbled out of her throat, "Oh, Jejune! Do you really think...?" 

Jejune's laughter cut her off, "Of course, darling. I'll send Manuel right 
away. He'll be in uniform and driving a blue and white Chrysler station 
wagon. It takes about ten minutes to reach the Lodge from the chalet here, 
so look for him. That is, if you can be ready then?" 

Sue was waiting out front with her skis when she saw the station wagon turn 
off the main road and come toward the Lodge entrance. A uniformed man was 
driving it. He apparently didn't know exactly what she looked like, so Sue 
gave him a little wave. He grinned and the car swung over toward the 
overhang. 

"Seorita Morgan?" he asked, all teeth and obviously pleased at making 
connections so easily. 

Sue didn't bother to correct him with her married name; she merely nodded, 
and then waited as he took her skis and put them in the back of the wagon. 

She tried to make conversation with him on the way up to the chalet, but 
there was a minor language difficulty. All she got out of him was that he 
and his wife acted as caretakers when the Morgans were gone, and as cook and 
chauffeur when Rod and his wife were at the chalet. The Spanish couple lived 
there all year round. 

Finally, after driving about eight or nine minutes, Manuel swung the car 
around a steep snow bank and bent forward, with his chin above the steering 
wheel, to point toward a huge house atop the next hill. "That is Seor 
Morgan's," he said, proudly. 

It looks like a post card picture from one of the European travel magazines, 
Sue thought with a gasp. She could see three figures on lounge chairs out on 
the sun balcony. One of them, a woman-it looked like Jejune-waved. 

A moment later, the car stopped in front of the house. Manuel had come 
around to open the door for her when the front door of the chalet opened and 
a tall male, dressed in white polo shirt and black ski pants, came out into 
the sunlight. 

And it was then that Sue realized she probably had made a mistake, after 
all. 

"Rod," her lips formed the word, but she was -in effect--speechless because 
the moment she looked at him and saw the way he was staring in appreciation 
at her, she knew he was thinking the exact same thing she was... and was 
remembering the mutual giving of their bodies that night eight years ago. 

Wordlessly, he assisted her from the car, put his arms around her, and then, 
without preamble, French-kissed her with an ardor that brought the blood 
pounding to her face, breasts, abdomen, and pussy. Without volition, she 
found herself responding and the kiss was broken only by the sound of 
Jejune's laughter behind them. "All right, you two. Plenty of time for 
that." 

Rod held her at arms length, critically inspecting her figure. "I knew you 
were going to be great someday, but I never realized... " 

Jejune looked positively ravishing and seemed to radiate a youthfulness that 
belied her almost 40 years. Her violet eyes glowing with a sensual heat, she 
stepped up, embraced Sue, and kissed her on the lips.- It was exactly the 
same kind of kiss that had so bothered Sue when she was only twelve; there 
was a difference this time... Sue could feel the sheet lightning of wicked 
wantonness shoot through her loins. She knew now, for sure, what Jejune 
was-and somehow the dark thought excited her. 

The three cousins stepped back from each other, then smiled in some secret 
understanding. 

And, abruptly, Sue knew instinctively that she would never leave this chalet 
the same way she had entered it... relatively innocent. She would leave with 
a new knowledge of herself -whether it be good or bad. A caterpillar of fear 
slowly crawled up her spine. Maybe this thing she was going to learn about 
herself, her body, and her desires was something she didn't want to know. It 
would be better to turn around now, even if it meant insulting her family, 
go back to the Lodge, and forget all about her kissing cousins. But even as 
the thought crossed her mind, she knew it was already too late. 

It had been too late ever since the moment last night when, in her mind, Rod 
had fucked her while husband John was making love to her. 

And, as far as that was concerned, perhaps it had been too late since long, 
long before that event even... perhaps since she was twelve. 

She did not resist as Jejune and Rod both put their arms around her and led 
her out of the open sunlight into the luxurious dimness of the chalet. 

CHAPTER SEVEN 

It was almost too much coincidence to be believable, Donna thought wryly, 
but she was convinced by Rod and Jejune's all-too-evident surprise that 
cousin Sue's unexpected arrival in Sun Valley really had not been planned. 

From her vantage point on the balcony, she watched through the huge frame 
and glass open doors as the red-haired, vivacious young girl crossed the big 
cathedral-ceilinged front room with Rod and Jejune. All three were laughing 
gaily at something. The sunlight streaming down from the skylights played on 
Sue's hair, and the light and shadow combination did rather fantastic things 
for her figure; she looked every bit as well built as any motion picture 
love goddess. "That's all we need," Donna said under her breath, "another of 
the incestuous Morgans to join us for bed and board." Sue would be 
competition. 

Donna had reason enough for her dismay. She hated Kirk DeLapp, Jejune's 
husband; he was a crude, loud-mouthed bore. At one time when he had been 
driving race cars professionally, he might have been handsome, but that was 
years before. Now his belly hung out over his belt and his face was a deeply 
trenched battlefield of lines and ruptured veins from too much alcohol. All 
of that did not in itself make him un-likeable. It was his sadistic 
tendencies that brought great concern to Donna, that and his ugly penchant 
for pederasty. Jejune, herself, had told her that Kirk found it impossible 
to enjoy normal female-male sex any longer; he was too jaded! He went for 
kinky sex... for belts and boys and women who would play his games. In his 
own crude vernacular, whispered to her one drunken evening, Kirk had 
explained it simply as, "The asshole, baby. Boy or girl. It's the only way 
to fuck." Donna had no doubt that the two pimply-faced sixteen-year-old boys 
who had gone up the slope earlier in the day for ski lessons with Kirk were 
both, right at this very moment, standing bare-assed in some warming hut and 
being instructed in the finer arts of buggery. What bothered her most was 
Rod's rapport with the automotive engineer; her husband had begun to demand 
new and crazier things from her in bed. He especially had begun to want anal 
intercourse, which revolted her, because she felt the act was perverted, 
degrading and obscene. Once in Zermatt, Switzerland, five years ago when 
Donna had first come into the Morgan family as a bride, she drunkenly 
permitted Kirk to take her to bed, and he had debased her in the most vile 
manner. Her adultery had been an act of revenge-pure and simple 
vengeance-because her horrified eyes had just witnessed Rod and his cousin 
Jejune in a sixty-nine position in the bedroom. It was not until the 
following day that she began to suspect that the whole thing had been 
planned for her benefit. And her suspicions had been confirmed by Jejune 
herself, who admitted everything. Jejune! Ah, yes. That had been the 
ultimate act of Donna's degradation, for Jejune-while comforting the 
weeping, bewildered young bride- had worked her mysterious alchemy on Donna 
who found herself willingly-even eagerly!- participating for the first time 
in her life in a lesbian act with the petite cousin. And since that time 
five years ago? It was still impossible to deny Jejune; all the older woman 
had to do was look at her with those glowing eyes, and the sweat would break 
out on the palms of her hands, and the tingling-that horrible, perverted, 
eager tingling-would begin all over her body, and a terrible forbidden 
longing would threaten to consume her. There was nothing Donna could do to 
combat it; she knew she was hooked worse than a heroin addict... but only 
with Jejune. Other women, other lesbians, did not excite her, and her sultry 
good looks and obvious femininity seemed to turn off even the most 
aggressive of the butch dykes. 

Now, the three cousins-like the famed Musketeers-came laughing through the 
door and out onto the balcony. 

Hiding her feelings, Donna smiled warmly and rose. 

Rod made the introductions. "Donna, meet Sue." 

"What a pleasant surprise to hear from you," Donna said, bending forward and 
bussing the girl on the cheek. "Welcome to the Morgan homestead." 

As the four of them talked, Donna found herself critically examining Sue. 
The girl was much younger and seemed far less socially conscious than she 
had expected a Morgan to be. There were moments when it seemed as if she 
were almost shy. All of Donna's feminine instincts, however, were ringing 
alarm bells because there obviously was something between Sue and Rod... or, 
knowing the Morgans, most likely had been in the past. She compared the 
features of the three cousins; they were all handsome-beautiful-and the 
family resemblance was unmistakable. She had no doubt Sue had the same 
intense sexuality that surged like a wild, raging, white-water river through 
Rod and Jejune at times. 

Although Donna participated in the conversation, a part of her mind stood 
off watching, observing, and evaluating. Rod had his "hungry look" and 
Jejune looked like a poised cheetah, with only an occasional twitch 
betraying her intense excitement. As for Sue? She looked like some 
unsuspecting sacrificial animal. 

Finally the conversation got around to skiing, and Rod offered to teach his 
cousin, starting immediately. Sue eagerly agreed to the lessons. 

"We'll go up Red Mountain and then I'll instruct you on the way down," Rod 
said. 

Sue looked doubtful. "I've only had about five or six lessons. I had planned 
to work out on the bunny slope at the Lodge. I'm really not sure... " 

"Oh, nonsense," Jejune interrupted. "Rod's a better instructor than any of 
the pros they've got down there. As far as that's concerned, so is Kirk." 

"She's right, you know," Rod continued. "I won't let you do anything that 
might get you into trouble. 

Donna saw the uncertainty fade from Sue's face and the young girl began 
nodding her head eagerly. "Well... if you say so." 

"I say so," Rod said, and exchanged a look with his older cousin, who smiled 
back in a rather odd manner. 

Suddenly, Donna knew what the two were planning, and she would have no part 
of it. Her anger sparked and she fought for control of her voice. 
Surprisingly, considering her turmoil, she sounded still friendly and calm 
when she said, "That sounds like fun; I think I'll go along." 

Rod's expression was murderous, but that threat in itself was not enough to 
change her mind; it was Jejune who did that when the older girl crooned, "I 
think you'd better stay here with me, Donna. You know how nervous people are 
when they are first learning things, they don't want witnesses to their 
mistakes. Resides, darling, I have a little something I wanted help with... 
" She peered at Donna from under downcast eyebrows, and her little pink 
tongue came out and slowly made a wet circumference of her lips. Donna 
recognized the look and almost immediately she found it difficult to 
breathe. 

"All right," she said, dully, and sat there while her husband and Sue 
disappeared into the house. A moment later, she heard their laughter outside 
in front, and then the sound of the private rope tow's engine being started. 

Abruptly, tears were streaming down her face. She ran inside and up the 
heavily carpeted stairs to her bedroom, slammed the heavy door behind her, 
and threw herself down on the bed. She wept disconsolately. She knew what 
Sue and Rod were going to do, even if Sue didn't know. And she, the loving 
wife, was helpless to prevent it. It was almost more than she could stand. 
There really was only one thing that made it bearable at all. 

Sobbing, she heard the door open. She turned face up on the bed, tears 
streaming down both sides of her face. 

Jejune, smiling hungrily, walked slowly across the room toward her. As she 
walked, she was unfastening the buttons of her body shirt. She wore no bra 
under it, and her taut, tight up-thrust little breasts with the nipples like 
pencil erasers didn't jiggle at all as she moved. 

Without saying a word, she sat on the side of the bed and began unzipping 
Donna's ski pants. "Men are such beasts," she said... 

CHAPTER EIGHT 

Sue had a lot of trouble staying upright on her skis as the rope tugged her 
up the mountainside. She fell several times and, laughing, Rod helped her up 
each time. Once, when he was aiding her, he had accidentally-from behind- 
cupped her breasts in his hands. Or at least Sue thought it must have been 
an accident. The act did distract her, however. Just as though it had 
happened only yesterday, she remembered the events of eight years ago... his 
hands on her breasts, his lips on her breasts... elsewhere. 

She fell again, and turned to apologize, "Sorry I'm so clumsy, Rod." 

"We all have to start sometime," he said, reassuringly. "Come on, I have an 
idea. I'll help you. All you have to do is sort of sit in my lap, that way 
you can't fall." 

Rod grabbed the rope and let it slip through his gloves, keeping only tight 
enough grip on it to permit him to remain stationary and not slide backward. 
"Okay," he ordered, "now come right over directly in front of me, facing 
uphill, with your skis outside of mine. Then I'll tell you what else to do." 

Gingerly, falling only twice, Sue managed to station herself in front of him 
as directed. 

"Now, bend your knees just a little-as if you were getting ready to sit down 
in a chair," he ordered. Sue followed his instructions. "Okay, grab the rope 
loosely... right... and now, I'm sliding up... between your skis... " 

Suddenly, Sue felt his body pressing against her back and his knees against 
the back of her knees. 

"Now... sit back a little... " 

Sue pushed out her rump until it was pressing against his lap and bent her 
knees even further. 

"Hold on to the rope with your left hand... Put my ski poles with yours in 
your right hand, and let them dangle by the straps. Okay... here we go... " 
Rod's arm snaked around her waist, and his gloved hand cupped her left 
breast. Then they were moving smoothly uphill. 

Sue was somewhat apprehensive about his hand, and adding to it was the fact 
that each time they went over a small ridge of snow, his arm pressed tightly 
against and rubbed her right breast. Most disconcerting thing of all, she 
thought she could feel his penis hardening as she sat in his lap. But then 
again, perhaps it was all her imagination. One way or the other, she decided 
to ride with it... she could always stop any dishonorable intentions he 
might have. The only problem was, she knew her nipples had become erect; and 
there was an uncomfortable buildup of heat in her crotch. 

After about three minutes, they reached the summit, and Rod said, "Swing 
clear of the rope when I yell. Now!" 

Sue made a half lunge to the right and found herself face down in the snow. 
Rod's delighted laughter made it all seem less embarrassing. She came up, 
brushing the snow from the front of her sweater. 

Rod said, "Let me help you," and his hands began scraping the snow off her 
ski pants. His hands brushed downward on the outer leg, then worked their 
way up the inside. When he reached the junction of her thighs he lightly 
brushed the snow from her pelvic area. He had stopped laughing and, for that 
matter, so had Sue. She was aware of his hands-even though he was wearing 
heavy leather gloves. "I'm going to have to watch myself," she said sternly 
to herself, knowing that it was one thing to fantasize about fucking her 
cousin, but to actually permit it would be out of the question. After all, 
he was married. So was she! Even so, her knees felt far weaker than they 
should, and that in itself was a danger signal. 

Sue's itinerant mind was wrenched back to the task at hand as, without 
warning, her back ski slid sideways and she fell down in the snow again. 

"I'm hopeless," she said. 

"No... you just don't know a couple of the more fundamental things." Rod put 
his ski pole down for her to grab and he hauled her to an upright position. 
"Now watch this." He dug his lower ski into the snow and it seemed as if he 
also turned his ankle inward slightly in order to give it better purchase. 
"When you are standing still on a slope, you have to put the brakes on. This 
is how you do it." He showed her. "Another thing that's causing you trouble 
is your tendency to follow your mother's earlier instructions that a nice 
girl always keeps her legs crossed. In skiing, forget that. A nice, upright, 
girl doesn't cross her skis, ever. You ask how to keep from doing that. 
Simple. Watch how I lock my skis into two parallel lines. One foot slightly 
in back of the other... thusly!" 

The lesson continued for about ten minutes, then Rod and she began a slow 
traverse across the face of the slope. Just the few things Rod had told her 
made it much easier to stay upright. She had already learned more in a few 
minutes from Rod than she had from four one-hour lessons at Badger Pass. Sue 
was actually very pleased with herself. There was something wildly 
exhilarating about moving soundlessly across the mountain; it was almost 
eaglelike, she thought, and then corrected herself by thinking, "No, it's 
almost a sexual feeling being way up here-just two people moving together, 
back and forth, back and forth." 

Time and again they traversed the hill, leaving behind them tracks in the 
unblemished, virginal snow. Rod continuously pointed out something new that 
would make her skiing easier, better. 

Way, way down below them, Sue could see the chalet and the road and could 
make out other houses here and there. Some, however, were so well hidden 
that she wouldn't have known they were there if smoke hadn't been coming 
from the chimneys. It was all so... beautiful... 

"Pay attention," Rod yelled, but it was too late! Suddenly her downhill ski 
seemed to acquire a mind of its own and pointed downhill; her body turned 
with it and she began picking up speed. She screamed in fright as she went 
over a hummock in the snow, and then she was falling -helplessly-end over 
end, clown the hill. She finally came to a stop about twenty-five feet away, 
lying with her leg twisted beneath her. She was in pain. How badly she was 
hurt, she didn't know, but it felt almost as if she had broken her leg. Rod 
was beside her immediately. He dug his poles into the snow and kicked off 
his skis. "Are you all right?" he asked, staring with undisguised concern 
down at her leg. 

"It hurts," she said, blinking back tears of pain and mortification. 

"Let's see," he said, all concern. He bent quickly beside her and touched 
her kneecap. "Okay there?" Sue nodded. He unfastened the safety binding and 
gently moved her ankle. "Okay?" Again, through tear-stained eyes, Sue shook 
her head. He straightened her leg out, watching her face as he did so. When 
she didn't grimace, he looked relieved. "Nothing broken, anyway. Where does 
it hurt the most?" 

Sue put her hand behind her and rubbed her right buttock gingerly. "Right in 
here." 

"A bruise most likely. Your back feels okay?" 

"Yes." 

Rod stood, apparently satisfied. He glanced around him and nodded toward a 
small cabin, half hidden by the pines, about fifty yards away. 

"Do you think you can make it there so I can do some first aid and check you 
over further?" 

"I think so." She held out her hand for assistance, and Rod helped her back 
to her feet. Now that she was standing, the pain in her buttock seemed to 
have lessened somewhat, although she could feel a strain mid-thigh. 

"That was a nasty fall; you could have gotten hurt," Rod said sternly, then 
relented in his stern composure, "I'm glad you weren't, though." He 
refastened her ski. 

"Me, too," Sue said, experimentally moving her ski from side to side. 

Rod guided her across the icy section of the snow and then used his ski pole 
to tow her up to the front steps of the cabin. When she bent and attempted 
to remove her ski, she felt a stab of pain through the back of her thigh. A 
grimace shot across her face. 

Rod looked concerned. "What's wrong?" 

"I can really feel it, right back here," she said rubbing the area. 

"Sounds like only a pulled muscle," he said and he seemed relieved again 
that there were no broken bones. 

Sue waited while Rod removed his own skis, then watched as he walked upon 
the porch and removed a key from a ledge above the door, lie seemed so very 
sure of himself that Sue felt the cabin must belong to him. 

As if sensing her thoughts, Rod turned around and grinned. "This is one of 
ours; we use it to house some of our artist friends during the summer when 
they want to have some privacy and a studio of their own." A moment later, 
he shoved against the door and, creaking, it swung inward. "Stay there," he 
ordered, and disappeared inside. 

He was gone for what seemed to be a long time, and Sue heard crackling 
noises coming from the interior. At almost the same time, she saw a huge 
cloud of smoke begin to billow out of the chimney. 

Rod came back, shivering. "God, it's cold in there. I've built a fire; it 
will warm up in three or four minutes." 

Sue began to feel some uncertainty. She really wasn't sure she wanted to be 
alone in an isolated cabin with her cousin, not that she couldn't trust him 
or herself, but why put temptation before either one of them. "Rod... I 
think I might be able to get down the hill... I mean, there's no need to go 
to all this trouble... " 

Rod actually looked stern. "I'm not letting you ski again until we know 
exactly what's wrong with your leg. If necessary, I'll go down, get the 
Snow-cat, and then come back and haul you down. Understand?" 

Sue nodded, feeling suitably chastized for questioning the instructor. 

Rod disappeared into the interior of the cabin again, and a moment later 
came back. "Okay. The chill is off. Come on in." 

Sue limped inside. It was a rather pleasant place, she thought, in spite of 
its dimness and its mildew odor of disuse. All of the windows had been 
boarded up and the only light came from the flickering fireplace and three 
candles which Rod had set up on top of the bar. Sue moved instinctively 
toward the fireplace and felt the welcome heat while she was still six feet 
away from it. Although burning only five or six minutes now, the logs were 
already cracking and popping. 

Rod removed his gloves and bulky ski sweater, revealing he was wearing only 
a thin white sleeveless knit shirt beneath. He came over and knelt in front 
of Sue. "Let's get the boots off," he said, "so I can check your ankle and 
lower leg." His hands were gentle and his movements careful as he unbuckled 
her boot and eased her foot from it. "Hurt?" he asked, and Sue, staring down 
with mixed emotions at the top of his head, answered, "No." 

"Let's get the other one off," he said, "That is, if this one foot can stand 
the weight." 

Sue balanced herself on her injured leg and was gratified that there was no 
pain. Quickly Rod removed her other ski boot, and Sue suddenly felt two 
inches smaller. "The sweater now," he ordered, and she pulled the sweater up 
over her head, knowing instinctively that Rod was staring at her breasts 
outlined beneath her tight white nylon body shirt. This instinctive 
knowledge brought a crimson blush to her face. 

Rod expertly checked the deeper muscles of her calf and the back of her 
thigh. Sue winced when he hit one particular spot about mid-thigh. He nodded 
as if her reactions had confirmed his suspicions. 

"Okay," he said, without preamble, "drop your pants." 

"What?" Sue exclaimed, shocked. 

"Come on, cousin. Don't be bashful. There's no way I can really tell how 
badly you're hurt until we see whether the flesh is bruised or if your 
tendon has popped. You're going to have to take your pants off." 

"But Rod," she wailed in embarrassment. "I'm all right. Really, I feel 
fine." 

"You do, eh?" he asked, and then pressed against her mid-thigh. 

"Ouch! That hurts." 

Rod didn't answer, the expression on his face was rebuke enough for her 
silly behavior. 

Sue felt her face burning in shame. Ordinarily, she would have done what was 
requested of her, but this morning-when she had decided to wear the body 
shirt which fastened at her crotch with three snaps-she had put on the 
skimpiest pair of bikini panties in her suitcase. If she removed her ski 
pants, she would be-to all intents and purposes-practically naked down 
there. There really was no choice. "Oh, all right," she said, and before she 
could change her mind or think up further excuses, unzipped her ski pants. 
She peeled them down over her flaring hips and they fell to her knees, where 
the kneeling Rod supported her right leg while he removed her pants from her 
left foot. A moment later she was standing there-feeling foolish and a 
little something else... almost breathless-as Rod rolled the flesh above her 
ankle to check for sprains. She could feel the heat from the fireplace 
against her bare flesh and an errant thought, quickly suppressed, flashed 
across her mind: I wonder what it would be like to lie completely naked on 
that rug and feel the heat on my breasts and have Rod, completely naked, 
take me in his arms and... I mustn't think that, she thought sternly. 

But when Rod's capable hands began kneading the flesh of her calf, she felt 
no pain-only pleasure, a warm deep-seated sensual pleasure, a portent of 
things to come-and the wicked thought returned. 

CHAPTER NINE 

Rod was amused at the little charade, the little game, they were playing 
with each other. He knew exactly what Sue was thinking, knew that she wanted 
to be fucked by him... just as he wanted to bury his already 
throbbing-with-life cock deep into her vibrant young pussy. That night eight 
years ago had been a one-time thing, something he had forgotten almost 
immediately. She had been uneducated in the ways of sex then, he had been 
the first. She had showed sensual promise, but that was all. It had been 
okay... just okay, compared to what some of the other broads before and 
after had been. Now, though, she was a little older and was more 
experienced. Too, she undeniably was a Morgan, and as a real Morgan she 
should be able to do sexual things that bordered on the incredible. He knew, 
because his grandfather, his father, and an uncle had told him (hat in all 
of the Morgans there (lowed a wild rampaging river of wantonness that was 
almost frightening in its strength. 

Now, as his hot gaze crawled up her legs to her clearly visible protruding 
Mound of Venus hiding behind the thin material of the almost transparent 
body shirt, and her big taut tits, Rod discovered he was mentally kicking 
himself for letting this choice piece go unsampled for the last eight years, 
lie hadn't realized what a perfect figure she had, although he should have 
suspected it from the way she had been built at fifteen. 

He did nothing to stem the growing heat of desire in his body. Indeed, he 
encouraged it, wanting to build it to a fever pitch where he would cum into 
her with all the power of a high-pressure fire hose... and it might very 
well take that to put out her fire. 

But first, he thought, we have to play out this little game. "Tell me if 
this hurts?" he asked, knowing full well that there was absolutely nothing 
wrong with her except for a minor muscle pull which could be cured in ten 
minutes by a hydro-bath back at the chalet. He put both hands around the 
smooth bare flesh of her thigh and felt a thrill tingle up his arms at the 
warmth of her body. He squeezed. 

Sue winced again and gasped. "Not as much as before, I think," she said, 
hardly able to formulate the words in her churning mind. His hands on her 
upper leg were causing all sorts of unwanted-but nonetheless 
delightful-sensations to ripple through her body. True, the pressure of his 
hands squeezing there had caused a momentary stab of pain, but it had gone 
away almost immediately with the release of pressure. 

Rod deliberately moved his hands further up on her thigh, with his thumbs 
only an inch or so away from her crotch. He squeezed again, this time a 
little more gently. He watched and saw what he had been looking for-a fine 
sudden rising of her skin in goosebumps denoting excitement and desire. He 
squeezed again, gently, and used individual fingers to press in certain 
spots as though he were testing her musculature. His face was about twelve 
inches from the snaps in the crotch of her body shirt. He thought he could 
almost smell her willing femininity above the odor of wood smoke and 
kerosene. A slight tremor shook her body, and Rod knew that she was rapidly 
becoming aroused. The knowledge caused his prick to swell against the 
intolerable confines of his own tight ski pants. 

The time had come to quit playing around and get down to the business at 
hand, but still he-sadistically and masochistically-continued the little 
game of first aid. "Now don't be alarmed," he said soothingly, "but there's 
one other thing I have to check, and I'm going to have to lift your shirt." 
He didn't give her a chance to protest, merely raised his hands and with one 
quick jerk caused the crotch of the body shirt to snap open. In doing so, 
his one finger deliberately dug into her panty-covered warm cuntal cleft. 

Sue jumped as if she had been touched with an electric prod. 

"Sorry," Rod said, without looking up at her. 

Sue was all sensation now, as if that one magic touch had been like a high 
mountain lamasery gong, causing reverberations throughout the rarefied 
atmosphere of her lust-hungry, wanton soul. She was fighting the tremors 
that threatened to devastate her body. She couldn't -just couldn't!-reveal 
to her cousin that she wanted him inside her. She wished he would hurry and 
finish this damned examination. Maybe, if she put her pants back on, she 
would be able to control her emotions. Suddenly, though, she wanted to 
scream... to back away... to run away... for she knew instinctively that 
what he was doing now would cause her sternest resolve to melt as rapidly as 
a snow ball on a hot July pavement. 

Rod had put both hands around her hips and, still kneeling with his face now 
only about nine inches away from her palpitating pussy, had begun kneading 
her buttocks through the sheer material of her red bikini nylon panties. 
"Tell me if this hurts," he said, and Sue had all she could do to keep from 
grabbing his head by the ears and yanking his face into the bubbling witch's 
cauldron of her cunt. 

Rod, still without looking up at her, patiently repeated his question, "Does 
that hurt?" 

Sue tried to speak, but her throat was so constricted by now that the words 
came out only as an inarticulate moan. Inside her mind a battle was raging. 
Part of her brain screamed out, "Tell him to fuck you!" and another part 
coldly and furiously shouted at her, "You wanton slut! You are married! Slap 
his face! Tell him to stop it! Stop it! You're a decent woman!" 

Rod no longer felt like playing, and so he made his move. He looked up at 
her face and, at the same time, slipped his hands down between the bikini 
panties and the luscious white globes of her buttocks, causing the panties 
to slide down to mid-thigh. Then, as if he were lifting a sacrificial cup to 
his lips in some pagan ceremony older than time itself, he simply pulled her 
pussy toward him. 

"No... no, Rod... you can't!" she gasped, and then, with the first touch of 
his hot hungry mouth against her cuntal lips, she closed her eyes and 
clenched her fists tightly, fighting the one-sided battle within her. 
"Please... don't... Rod, don't... don't." 

The sweat of her exertions on the ski slope had brought a fine musk to her 
snatch, and Rod's tongue quivered at the opening-like a humming bird seeking 
the spout of a feeder. Then his tongue snaked forward... 

"Ahhhhh... God!" It was a wanton scream of lust that came from a deeper part 
of her mind than had ever been called upon for comment or evaluation before. 
Almost viciously she grabbed the back of his head, and at the same time 
splayed her legs out in an effort to put more and more of her vagina into 
contact with that beautiful tongue and mouth. 

Rod's tongue licked along the fur-lined pink cleft, and the honey that 
seeped from her snatch was beyond compare. He sensed she was going out of 
her mind; it was almost as if no one-at least recently-had ever gone down on 
her. Now he shoved his tongue-like a little red prick- down through the two 
layers of cuntal lips, and was rewarded by a scream of exaltation from her. 

Sue's body was beginning to tremble uncontrollably; never before in her 
wildest dreams had she envisioned such delight, such exquisite pleasure, 
such wanton craving. She felt his tongue, quivering, driving, licking at 
her, then shrieked with abandonment again when his thumb and forefinger 
clasped her overly large clitoris and tweaked it. 

Rod's amazement grew along with his prick. It was simply incredible! 
Everything he did to her-from touching her leg to gently nibbling on her 
clitoris-had driven her almost insane. She was really turned on! It was 
almost as if she had been given an overdose of the most powerful aphrodisiac 
imaginable. Her cunt was leaking lubricant like a squeezed wet sponge. She 
was ready for fucking now, and if she didn't get a fucking, she'd probably 
topple right over. Above it all, though, was the admiration he felt for 
her-she was fresh and relatively untouched. It was almost, in a way, like 
getting her cherry all over again. And suddenly, he knew without being told, 
that no one-absolutely no one-except her husband, had touched her within the 
last couple of years... and that she was innocent of all of the finer arts 
of fucking... and that, as a Morgan, she would be an apt pupil. She might 
even be, he thought with some amazement, even better at all of this than 
Jejune; it seemed impossible, hard to believe, but if her present reactions 
were any indication, her sexual needs-like some sleeping princess in a magic 
spell-were about to be awakened by a prince and a kiss. He shoved his tongue 
into her snatch as far as he could, and began pressing his middle finger 
against her tightly clenched, puckering little anus. 

As that furious tongue continued to scour her cunt, Sue no longer attempted 
to shove his face into her femaledom. Now she hung onto it simply for 
support, as her rubbery knees were threatening to collapse under her. He was 
doing something wickedly delightful to her backside, as well. Her body 
simply could not handle these tactile sensations any longer. She was already 
climbing toward an orgasmic peak, a volcanic mountaintop shrouded by the 
super-heated steam clouds of desire. She soared upward toward them. 
Then-fighting against herself- panting for breath, heart pounding like some 
poor wild bird in an insufferable iron cage, she pulled her body away from 
him. She moved three steps backward and stood there, her proud breasts 
rising and falling as the terrifying tides of lust swept through her and 
sent powerful ground swells of wanton need surging into the already flooded 
estuaries of her body. 

Rod had been pretty sure she was about to pull away. He had sensed her 
impending climax, and if she hadn't broken off contact, he would have. He 
didn't want her to cum-not yet. There were words he wanted to hear, things 
he wanted her to perform. Before he was through with her, she would be 
begging to be fucked- "begging" like some craven coward with neck exposed on 
the guillotine block, "begging" like some pitiful street whore going through 
first stages of heroin withdrawal and ready to do anything for a fix. He was 
going to fuck her, but it would be on his terms. He sensed she had already 
reached an irrevocable point of no return. Now, all she needed was one 
gentle nudge-one further bit of arousement-and she would be defenseless. 
Without saying anything further, Rod stood. He grinned in triumph as he saw 
her wide, almost frightened, eyes locked on the front of his ski pants. 
There, clearly outlined, was the elongated banana shape of his 
blood-engorged cock. His pants were so tight, his prick so large, that the 
coronal ridge of the bulbous head could be delineated. He dropped his right 
hand to the bulge and, without taking his eyes off her, squeezed it. 

He was rewarded by a low moan coming involuntarily from her lips. 

Sue was fighting a losing battle with herself, and she was smart enough to 
know it. Still, though, some last shard of decency demanded she make another 
effort to escape this trap. She saw her lime-green ski pants on the cocktail 
table behind him. Warily watching him now as he squeezed his bulging penis, 
she pulled up her panties and began to sidle over toward the table. 

Rod, knowing what she was attempting to do, made one step sideways and 
blocked her. Then, casually, he unhooked his waistband and slowly... very 
slowly... he unzipped his trousers. He saw Sue's eyes widening even further, 
then saw her close her eyes as if that would remove the temptation. Smiling, 
he put his hands under the elastic band of his jockey shorts and pulled them 
down over his hips. His cock, like an angry lion in a Roman arena, leapt out 
looking for prey. It throbbed with a frightening vitality. It is, he thought 
with glee, the best hard-on I've had in months. The god-damned thing felt so 
tight, so brittle, that it seemed sure to shatter into a million little 
pieces if he tried to bend and replace it again in its jockey short cage. 

Wordlessly, he stepped out of pants and undershorts, then quickly yanked off 
his polo shirt to stand, legs widespread, and hands on hips before her. The 
only thing he wore was the pair of thick ski socks that came up to mid-calf. 
When Sue opened her eyes again, she saw him standing just that way, with his 
mammoth throbbing penis sticking out of its pubic hair briar patch like some 
giant limbless tree stump. My God, she thought with dismay, it is so huge. 
No wonder it had hurt that first time. Subtly some change had come over her, 
and now she recognized it for what it was-resignation. She no longer cared 
to fight her own body's desires if, indeed, she was ever able to fight them. 
Her decency had gone. She was, for the first time in her life, about to 
commit an adulterous act. It was something expressively forbidden by the 
Bible; it was something she had never dreamed she would be capable of doing. 
Her shoulders slumped, she stood before him acquiescent, a love slave ready 
to do whatever was expected of her. 

"Take off your clothes," Rod ordered, and discovered that his voice was 
hoarse, his throat constricted, as if the elevating of his heavy penis had 
drawn all tendons tight, even those in his neck. 

Wordlessly, hands trembling so badly that she could hardly undo the buttons, 
Sue began at the top of the body shirt and worked her way down. When her 
shirt was unbuttoned and its crotch strap dangling in front of her like a 
ridiculously small apron, she looked up at him. He said nothing, so she 
completed the job... and knowing what he wanted, hunched her shoulders 
forward and unfastened her bra. Her harvest moon breasts were freed and she, 
too, was naked now except for her ski socks. 

Rod could hardly contain himself as he saw the yellow firelight flickering 
on her big tits and volley-ball buttocks, changing them from alabaster white 
to a warm gold. Her strawberry-blonde fur patch was revealed in all its 
glory for the first time, and the little curling hairs looked as soft as 
swan's down. His prick jerked a couple of times of its own accord, as if it 
were urging him to action. He stared speculatively at her moistened lips, 
also reflecting the light, and her wide, expectant, jade-green eyes. Now was 
the time, he thought. Now! 

"Come here," he said, and she walked forward like a zombie. 

"Kneel, I'm about to knight you, baby," he said, and Sue once again did as 
she was instructed. Only her slightest, barely perceptible, hesitation had 
told him she knew what was going to come next and had already accepted it. 

"Now open your mouth and close your eyes... and I'll give you something to 
make you wise," he chanted, remembering the old childhood poem. 

Again that almost imperceptible pause, then she did as she was told. 

Rod looked down at her half-open, supplicant mouth and then at his cock 
already oozing a viscidness from its glans opening. Slowly, very slowly, 
savoring each breathless split-second of anticipation, he pushed his 
throbbing white shaft closer and closer to her mouth. Then, as his huge 
purple head grazed her lips, he saw his cousin open her mouth even wider to 
receive it... and her tongue, like some welcoming committee, flicker out and 
brush with one swipe, the seeping precursor of love from the glans. It was 
only a shy, gentle little lick, but the touch of her hot tongue there caused 
a jolt of pure ecstatic pleasure to shoot through his loins. 

"Oh, yes," he said under his breath. "Oh, yes... this is going to be very 
good indeed!" 

Sue wanted him to tell her what to do, she wanted to hear his lewd, obscene 
words. The slightly saline taste of his penis was already acting like an 
aphrodisiac on her. She tried to remember what he had told her to do eight 
years ago, but the only instruction she could recall was his exhortation to 
suck on it. And so, she ovalled her lips, taking all of the bulbous 
throbbing head into her mouth, and began moving her head back and forth, all 
the while sucking gently. 

"God damn, cousin, you must have been doing this for a living," Rod cried 
out, as his body responded eagerly to her ministrations. 

Sue pulled her mouth away from his cock and looked up at him. She shook her 
head and said seriously, "No. You're the only one." 

"Ah, come on now. You mean you haven't blown your husband?" 

"No." And then she added, wanting him to believe her, "It's the truth." 

"For Pete's sake, why not? Didn't you feel the urge?" 

"I didn't think he'd understand... " 

"You ass! And I suppose he hasn't gone down on you and eaten your pussy as I 
did just now and eight years ago." 

"You are the only one." 

Rod actually felt sorry for her now, and he knew some of his pity must show 
on his face. His voice was tender when he said, "You've missed so much." 

Sue was honest; she said what she felt, "Yes. I have. When you were licking 
me, I thought I would die of happiness. And I feel I want to repay you." 

"You don't mind sucking my cock?" The pity had gone now, replaced once again 
by a growing excitement-fanned by the salacious conversation, the sight of 
her on her knees before the fireplace, just humbly and gratefully waiting 
for his cock. 

Sue sought to put her feelings into words. She had been terribly aroused by 
his lewd words. Her loins were afire with a blaze hotter than that in the 
fireplace. How to explain the taste, the feeling of his warm, throbbing 
penis in her mouth, the wicked excitement that the perverted act caused to 
well up inside her. She forced herself to be absolutely honest for, after 
all, she was the pupil and he the master who would teach her what she wanted 
to know. "I don't mind sucking your... cock. It is a part of you. A very 
dear part. Just like your ears, your lips, your nose... an integral part of 
you." 

"Then suck, cousin, suck!" Rod's last word was almost a shout as she reached 
up behind him and clasped his buttocks in her hands. She opened her mouth to 
receive the prick which looked like a mammoth breadstick as it began moving 
in and out between her lips. 

He noticed, with some wry amusement, that her lipstick had left a red ring 
around the mid-part of his prick's trunk. At first, her mouth moved silently 
back and forth on that white shaft of muscle and blood-hardened gristle; but 
then she began making loud sucking noises as Rod shoved it further and 
further into her throat, seeking ever deeper penetration into that warm, 
saliva-filled, wonderful cavity. He could feel it all: her hot, panting 
breath against his belly; her teeth, sometimes painfully scraping the 
sensitive underside of his cock; her lips, warm and incredibly soft; the 
back of her throat where the tonsil dipped like some obeisant cervix to 
greet the bulging head of his prick. Her fingernails had long since made 
deep indentations into the cheeks of his bare ass, and he felt a surge of 
pure masochistic pleasure at the pain she was unknowingly inflicting on him. 

Gradually the pressure was building up in his testicles. Already the semen 
was surging restlessly back and forth, like water just before it comes to a 
boil. He wanted to cum in her mouth. He wanted to hear her gag and choke as 
the white-hot molten seminal stream erupted into her mouth. He wanted to see 
the overflowing cum dripping from the corners of her jism-filled mouth. He 
wanted all of these things, but he wanted one thing more! He wanted to fuck 
her! He waited until the last possible moment, waited until his throbbing 
prick had already begun to painfully swell just prior to ejaculation. 
Then... he pulled his cock reluctantly from her mouth. 

Sue had felt what she suspected was the buildup to his orgasm. She welcomed 
it, remembering the one other time he had cum in her mouth. This time, 
though, she knew what to expect, and she planned to keep her lips tightly 
fastened to the fleshy shaft. She found herself joyfully anticipating his 
hot, pent-up release, and to communicate her intense feelings about it, she 
began sucking harder and using her tongue to tease the head. She swirled her 
tongue around and around it-and could feel it swelling in her mouth. He was 
almost there now, some inherited instinct told her that. Then, without 
warning, he had pulled it away. He had taken her prize, her toy, from her. 
It wasn't fair. It wasn't! She saw the cock, throbbing in front of her only 
inches away, and she leaned eagerly forward to capture it again. 

Rod put his hands on her head and gently lifted her face. "Enough," he said, 
with far more tenderness than he felt. 

Sue surprised herself by her own boldness. "I want you to cum," she said. 

"Later. I want something else far more right at the moment." 

"What's that?" 

"I want to fuck you." 

Sue wrapped her arms around his knees and laid her head against his hairy 
thighs. "Yes... yes, I want it too. Fuck me." 

Now that it had been said, Rod wanted it to begin. He knelt beside her and 
gently pushed her back until she was lying full length on the rug in front 
of the fireplace. 

Sue felt her legs being separated and saw him kneeling over her. Her eyes 
trailed along his hairy chest and flat muscle-rippled stomach to the mammoth 
cock-shining with a silvery sheen from her saliva. At this angle, it looked 
like the white inner cardboard core on which paper towels are wound. It 
looked fully as wide, as long. And she began to feel apprehension, mixed 
with a rather fatalistic and horrible anticipation. It looked large enough 
to rip her apart, but she had taken it as a virgin, and she certainly could 
take it now. For a brief moment, a flash of shame at what she was about to 
do illuminated the deeper recesses of her mind, but the desire-that 
intolerable, heated desire- was all-consuming and the black clouds of 
wantonness closed in again. She needed release; she had to have release or 
she would die! "Fuck me!" she cried in all sincerity, not caring what he 
thought of her any longer, not caring about him either, only that beautiful 
elongated pleasure stick which would replace her misery with happiness. 

Her hand reached down between their two bodies and fastened itself on the 
thick shaft. She began yanking impatiently on it, seeking to bring it into 
heated contact with her love-starved vagina. 

Rod grinned down at her, pleased at her heat. "You're a real Morgan all 
right," he said huskily, "and when you get my cock shoved up into your hot 
little pussy, you'll go positively apeshit." 

His lewd words only excited her further. "Do it now... don't talk about it. 
Do it!" The last was almost shouted, and she tightened her grip on his cock 
to the point where he groaned in pain. 

"Put it in," he ordered, and lowered his hips between her outspread thighs. 

The rigidity of his penis against her sensitive cuntal lips bewildered her 
at first. It was like some thick blunt instrument of destruction, a crowbar 
to pry her cunt right out of her body. 

She groaned in ecstatic pleasure as she rubbed the hardened shaft and its 
bulbous head up and down the entire sensitive length of her quivering vulva. 
Its contact was electrifying, and it resulted in a near explosion of 
unbearable lust in her pelvis. She punched up to meet it, and felt the head 
penetrate the first layer of her ruby-pink, passion-drenched, pussy lips. 
She shivered uncontrollably and found her knees rising of their own 
volition, seeking to further open those already well-lubricated gates to her 
femaledom. 

Rod was amazed at how hot she was. Christ, he thought, I've had nymphos 
before that didn't want it as much as she does. But then his thoughts were 
cut off as she dug her fingernails painfully into his tender testicles. "Do 
it," she repeated, her mouth hanging laxly open in one of the most wanton 
portraits of lust he had ever witnessed. 

"All right," he said, feeling a sudden wave of almost barbaric cruelty sweep 
over him. He pushed forward and the Cyclopean giant forced its way into her 
tight, quivering little opening. 

"Agghh," she moaned, feeling herself being stretched to the point of 
ripping. She splayed her knees out even further, until her taut inner thigh 
muscles looked like flesh-covered steel cables under intolerable pressure. 

Rod felt her cuntal lips part under the probing of his cock, felt the first 
slippery entrance through her outer layer of vulva. She was almost as tight 
as she had been the first time, he thought; her husband must have a pencil 
for a prick, or else he doesn't use it very often. He heard Sue's low groan 
of pain as her cunt stretched far beyond its normal capacity. The sound 
pleased him. He wanted to hear her cry out. Now was the time. Now! He flexed 
all his muscles and then with the war cry of a Viking plunderer driving his 
sword into an enemy's soft belly, he yelled, "Hahhhh!" and ruthlessly and 
brutally rammed his cock down into the depths of her pussy. 

"Aaaaaggggghhhhh," she screamed, "you're killing... mmmmeeeeeeee!" Sue 
realized she was being impaled, torn apart, split asunder into a million 
little pieces and like Humpty Dumpty never again to be put back together. 
The pain was monumental, more excruciating than it had been the first time. 
"Aaaagghhhh," she yelled again, "Stop. Stop... oh, God. Stop!" She pushed 
against his chest, but to no avail, as the relentless plunge into the very 
heart of her womb plummeted past her inner blood-filled sensitive lips and 
swept disdainfully on past her cervix. She had never been so stretched. Part 
of her mind shrieked at her that she could give birth to a sixteen-pound 
baby with less pain than this. 

Rod felt the tight resistance to his entrance melting before the onslaught 
of his fleshy battering ram. Down, down, down, he drove, and gave forth 
another Viking yell as he felt his lust-tightened balls slam up against her 
puckering little asshole. He and his horsecock were into her all the way, 
much further than anyone had ever been before. That knowledge pleased him, 
and with the pleasure some of the blood lust left him. He flexed his cock 
and heard her moan. 

"Don't move it, please!" Sue pleaded, knowing that pain had caused tears to 
form in her eyes. God, she hurt! She could feel that big penis inside of her 
as though some clenched fist with wrist and arm attached had been shoved up 
in there. She could feel every corrugated millimeter of that monstrous cock, 
and she wondered dully how she could have ever been stupid enough to want 
something as painful as this inside of her. His prick leapt again inside 
her, further stretching her already overexpanded vaginal walls. "Don't 
move," she asked again, and then knew her pitiful request for relief was 
hopeless, for Rod was cruelly smirking down at her. He flexed his prick 
again, but this time there was a slight difference. Once more he made that 
giant white throbbing cudgel jump inside of her, and Sue realized that her 
tortured passageway was rapidly becoming adjusted to the invader. 

Without warning, Rod began fucking into her. He rode high on her, scraping 
his cock against her clitoris; he rode low on her, punching his prick 
deeper, ever deeper into her womb. He rotated his hips, scraping her vaginal 
walls with the hearty ridges of gristle. Pain fled as though it were fog 
being chased away by fresh breezes and a hot sun. As he stroked into her 
with long smooth thrusts, she found herself beginning to respond. It was an 
involuntary thing, something she had no control over at all. Her cunt 
seemingly had taken charge of her body, because she felt her lower abdominal 
muscles begin to ripple. 

"Ohhhhh," it was a gasp of genuine pleasure from Rod. Good God, he thought, 
nothing has felt like that since the Algerian belly dancer. Sue's pussy had 
become a velvet-lined conveyor belt attempting to pull him deeper into her. 
It was just too god-damned wonderful to be true. Donna was fantastic in bed 
when she had been sufficiently aroused, but even at her best she didn't have 
a twenty-one-jewel, ball-bearing movement like this. As for Jejune! She was 
just a good lay and a good sport, willing to do almost anything to please 
man, woman, or beast. What surprised him most of all, however, was the fact 
that Sue was completely uneducated in these matters. She was doing this 
automatically. She was, indeed, a genuine fucking Morgan! With a little 
instruction, she would just have to be the hottest, most fuckable piece of 
ass in the whole lousy universe. 

Sue had discovered, quite by accident, that she could control her own body's 
feelings down there. She could add pleasure, add heat, add friction, or 
lessen any of these. Simply by dipping her pelvis she found she could scrape 
her clitoris against the hard shaft that bored into her like a white-hot 
drill; by rising at the right moment, she could deepen his thrusts even 
further than he could unaided; by flexing her inner thigh and gluteus, she 
could tighten her pussy ring around his maledom, which would bring a 
delighted moan from him. As he fucked into her, she experimented by raising 
her knees up until they were practically under his armpits; his cock went in 
so far in this position that she thought surely he was pounding the dent out 
of her navel. 

But then, all of this newfound knowledge fled her, because as that hard long 
prick smashed like a piledriver into her, she began to feel a familiar 
tingling in her abdomen. She really didn't believe she could be having a 
climax so soon, but moments later there was no denying the message her pussy 
was joyfully shouting to her. Her breath deepened of its own accord, and she 
could feel the blood rushing as though from a broken dam into her straining 
muscles down there. The tingling deepened, widened, and became a hollow 
trough that rapidly built up until it was a seismic wave of ecstasy. 

"I'm cumming," she whispered. That pounding continued. 

"I'm cumming," she said loudly. His cock moved in and out, in and out, 
scraping-ever scraping-against the swelling clitoris and the expanding 
vaginal walls. 

"I AM CUMMING... " she screamed, and then added, "Ah... ahhhhh... Oh, God... 
don't stop... Don't ever stop. DON'T STOP!" She reached for the adulterous 
orgasm, and the forbidden fruit easily came away from the tree of delight. 

Her legs fastened themselves like flesh-colored handcuffs around his hips, 
and she used her heels like spurs against the back of his thighs to urge him 
on. Unknowingly, her fingernails had embedded themselves so deeply into his 
buttocks that skin had been punctured and he was bleeding. She pumped her 
clasping pussy like a hot hungry mouth on his white shaft, seeking every bit 
of him. And then, as her orgasm grew-expanded-a birdlike cry of helplessness 
bubbled from her throat, to be followed immediately by the shrill cry of a 
banshee, "Aiiiieeeeee," and she stiffened like a Limbo dancer about to go 
under the low bar. 

Her motionless state lasted almost five seconds, and during it Rod continued 
to mercilessly pound into her defenseless snatch with a heated fury and 
urgency he had not experienced in years. My God, he thought, as he screwed 
into the stiffened, supine body of his cousin, she is incredible, 
unbelievable. Then abruptly, he was forced to ride her, to hold on for dear 
life, as she exploded beneath him like an enraged, unbroken wild horse 
feeling the saddle for the first time. Her legs unfastened themselves from 
his hips and her knees began opening and closing like a powerful 
accordion-against his ribs. She reached up and, with the strength of a 
maniac, wrapped her arm around his neck and drew his mouth down to her. Her 
short, uneven gasps of hot slobbering breath became even more broken as she 
sought to ram her tongue down his throat. 

Now she was sucking his tongue while her pussy, like some incredibly soft 
vacuum cleaner, was milking at his prick. Rod felt the vaginal walls 
suddenly secrete a warmness all around his cock and then there was less 
friction encountered down there. The warm viscosity clung to his shaft, and 
on each backstroke some of it was deposited at the lower part of her cunt, 
where it oozed like silver honey down to her anus. 

"Fuck, oh, fuck me. Fuck me... fuck me... " Sue chanted incoherently, 
pumping her body up and down on that joystick, and seeking to bring back the 
fading glory of her earlier orgasm. She was regaining some control of her 
body now, and with the control came shamed thoughts. "I'm no better than a 
street slut. A shameless adulteress. A whore. A... a... ahhhhhhh," and 
abruptly, she was cumming once more. 

Rod grunted and began hammering deeper, ever deeper into her as he felt her 
body stiffen a second time. 

"Aaaaiiiiieeeeee," she screamed again, and it was a cry of sheer exaltation, 
a priestess atop a mountaintop who had just communicated with the gods and 
now shouts out the sacred message. This time, however, in spite of her body 
automatically taking over and convulsing, she was able to retain some 
control over her mind. Mentally she stood back, wondering about it, 
wondering what made this fuck better than any other she had ever had, 
wondering about the second orgasm and the possibility of a third. She knew 
she had to work at control, that with control this unbelievable pleasure 
might be intensified and prolonged. This time she regained control of her 
body sooner and deliberately began working her clitoris against his prick. 
Seconds later that ganglion of sensitive nerve endings simply shorted out, 
bringing on still another orgasm. 

Rod felt her cumming time after time under him and found it nearly 
impossible to control her wild abandoned writhings. At times, in the midst 
of a climax, her face would contort in an unbelievable grimace of pure lust. 
Twice she had raised her pelvis and his body a good eighteen inches up off 
the floor and rotated her ass as though it were some well-oiled camshaft or 
cake mixer. Her pussy puckered and unpuckered like a feeding fish as it 
sought to devour his entire length. Finally he sensed that the continuing 
orgasm was weakening her, and a moment later he knew he had been right, for 
Sue fell back to the floor, with her eyes rolled up high in her head. She 
was almost unconscious; he had fucked her into near insensibility. And that 
was all he had wanted to do. The deed was done and he was well satisfied 
with it. He began more deliberate movements now, pounding into her in an 
effort to bring about his own release. 

He could feel the pressure building up in his scrotum; it grew and grew and 
grew as his prick drove in and out of the unmoving body beneath him. Then he 
was there. He bent down and shoved his tongue into her wide open 
unresponsive mouth as he felt the cosmic explosion, like a supernova, in his 
balls. He groaned as the first of the powerful spurts shot out of his prick 
like a cannonball to splatter on the far walls of her womb. 

He came. His ejaculatory spurts spewed the inside of her vagina and uterus, 
and her pussy was filled beyond capacity with it. She was so full that the 
spurts of jism came out from between her cuntal lips even though they were 
stoppered by his cock, and he could actually feel it splattering on his 
thighs. Best of all, although she obviously was nearly unconscious, her 
vagina still continued to work, and it milked and sucked at his swollen 
prick, squeezing and unsqueezing with each life-giving spurt he spewed into 
her. 

Rod fell down on top of her as his continuing orgasm flooded her sexual 
grotto. He let the incredibly wonderful waves of pleasure sweep over him, 
and for a moment he thought he, too, was about to lapse into unconsciousness 
as he felt her velvet inner muscles paying homage to his maledom... 

CHAPTER TEN 

Rod and Sue were in the cabin almost three hours, and by that time the logs 
in the fireplace had dwindled until only a large pile of glowing coals and 
ashes remained. They made love two more times, once with Sue on her hands 
and knees while he entered her "(log fashion." She had been fucked this way 
by her husband and it had been delightful, but with Rod's horsecock it went 
beyond delight into the realm of pure ecstasy. And the third time, seated on 
a small milk stool, he had entered her while she sat on his lap. 

They came blinking out of the cabin into the blinding glare of the snow. Rod 
looked up at the thin cloud cover and the high altitude streamers like 
contrails. One eyebrow arched, and his lips pursed as he commented, "We're 
in for a bit of weather tonight-snow, wind." 

Sue's glance followed his gaze. The sky really didn't look any different to 
her than it had this morning, a little grayer, perhaps, but no real change. 
She accepted his word for it, however. Frankly, she couldn't care less about 
the weather. Now that the lovemaking had broken off, she realized her poor 
overworked vagina was very sore indeed. It wasn't painful, but she did feel 
discomfort. Then she grinned. It had been worth it! In two hours of skiing, 
Rod had taught her twice as much as she had ever learned from anyone else 
before. In three hours of fucking, he had taught her more than her husband 
had in almost three years of intimacy. And, in that final hour, she felt 
that just maybe she had taught Rod a little something in return. He seemed 
actually in awe of her at times, and that pleased her. There was a new-found 
strength in her; she didn't know just exactly how strong she was, but she 
would find out, and the discovery process would be extremely pleasurable. 
Rod buckled the skis to her boots, and a moment later they were swooshing 
downhill again. They made deeper traverses this time, going faster across 
the face of the hill. Sue's bumbling snowplow turns gradually became less 
awkward, and they no longer had to stop for her to change directions. 

They reached the chalet within thirty minutes of leaving the cabin. Only 
then did Sue begin to worry. She was positive her infidelity showed on her 
face. What would Donna think? As far as that was concerned, what could she 
tell John? And abruptly, she realized she wasn't going to say a damned thing 
or admit a damned thing to anyone. She would brazen it out! Unbuckling her 
skis, she followed Rod's lead and put them over one shoulder and began 
carrying them up the stairs to the front porch of the chalet. It was only 
then that she felt the sudden little stab of pain again in the back of her 
thigh. "Ohhhhh," she inhaled, biting her lip. 

"What's wrong?" Rod asked, then immediately answered his own question. "Your 
leg, eh?" 

Sue nodded. 

"It's only a muscle strain. We'll put you in the hydro-bath and let Jejune 
massage it; she's better than most pros at working out a pulled muscle." His 
reassurance was comforting. 

They were locking the skis into their racks when Donna opened the door. For 
a split second there was a look of anger on her face, then it was replaced 
by a noncommittal expression. "Oh, there you two are. We were beginning to 
get worried about you. Another ten minutes and we would have started a 
search. Everything okay?" 

Rod kissed his wife and put his arm around her. "A little accident. Not bad. 
A pulled hamstring when she fell. We stopped off at the lower cabin until 
Sue felt like trying it again. I was planning to come down for the Snow-cat, 
but she thought she could make it. Brave girl... she did." His voice sounded 
absolutely truthful, sincere, as if he had just returned from church and a 
full confession. 

Donna merely glanced at Sue and nodded. "I hope you feel better." There was 
no hint of sarcasm or accusation in her voice, but Sue sensed the woman knew 
exactly what had happened in the cabin and saw through their story. 

"She'll be out there again tomorrow, as good as new," Rod said, then glanced 
over his shoulder, "that is if this thing moving in right now doesn't louse 
up the skiing for a few days. What's the afternoon forecast?" he asked 
Donna. 

"Snow. Tonight and tomorrow. Fifty-mile-an-hour winds and a low of five." 

"So long, skiing... at least for three days." He shrugged. "Oh, well, thank 
God we've got enough booze in the house." Then he turned to Sue. "Come on," 
he ordered. "It's the hydro-bath for you. Then we'll let Jejune pound the 
hell out of you." 

The hydro-bath was a large circular pool ten feet in circumference and about 
four feet deep. A wide cement ledge about a foot from the bottom served as a 
bench upon which one sat, neck deep in water, while the powerful jets forced 
the heated water to swirl around the body. It was great for relieving muscle 
aches and pains, although in this household it was used mainly for 
revitalization purposes when the frequent morning hangovers made life 
unbearable. 

Rod disappeared toward the bar, and Donna led the way toward the sauna and 
hydro-bath. The two women walked silently, with neither inclined to 
conversation. Sue was so weary from skiing and fucking that she was ready to 
drop. All she wanted to do right now was soak in a hot tub and then take a 
nap. 

Donna showed her to the dressing room and then threw the switch on the 
hydro-bath. There was a buzzing noise and the sound of swirling water. 
"Thirty minutes in here, about fifteen in the sauna... unless you're used to 
a sauna." 

"No... I've never been in one," Sue confessed, feeling a guilt building up 
inside of her because of what she had done with this woman's husband. She 
desperately wanted to be friends with the aloof Donna, but there was no 
softening in that neuter composure of her cousin's wife. 

"If you need anything, just press the button, I'll come," Donna said, and 
then Sue was left alone. Wearily, she stripped off her clothes and then 
gingerly put one foot into the hydro-bath. "Boy, that's scalding," she said, 
involuntarily, and quickly drew her foot back. She replaced her foot in the 
water and this time it seemed not quite as hot. Even so, it took almost 
three minutes of acclimatization before she was fully submerged. Right from 
the beginning, Sue had been struck by the sensualness of the swirling 
waters. Now, as she sat down on the cement bench with the powerful jets of 
water foaming between her legs, she felt a rebirth of excitement. Those 
streams were strong enough to tug at the fleshy folds of her weary vagina; 
it felt as if someone with incredibly warm and soft hands were playing with 
her, parting her cuntal lips, licking her cunt. And the effect upon her 
breasts was almost immediately catastrophic. Migawd, she thought with a 
sudden awareness, I could actually reach a climax this way. All I'd have to 
do is simply spread... out... my knees, and press against this one... jet... 
A feeling of almost unbelievable sensuality swept through her pussy as she 
adjusted her position to get full benefit of the water. She closed her eyes 
and lay, with head back on the decking, feeling her cunt respond to the 
watery prick with sexual alacrity that was almost frightening. 

"Feel better?" The female voice came from right above her head. 

"Oh!" Sue exclaimed and jerked in frightened embarrassment. "Jejune! You 
scared me. I was half asleep," she lied, and felt her face flushing. 

Jejune smiled down at her; there was a secret shared knowledge in that 
smile, almost as if she knew exactly what had happened at the cabin and what 
Sue had been doing seconds before. "I understand we've got a pulled muscle 
to deal with. Well, that should be easy enough to fix once we get you 
relaxed. And we will relax you... " As she spoke, she began untying the belt 
around her flowered kimono. She turned her back to Sue and then dropped the 
robe. 

Sue's eyes widened when she saw Jejune was wearing absolutely nothing under 
the garment. For a second, an acute sense of embarrassment swept through her 
as she stared at her cousin's muscular, but perfectly feminine little 
buttocks, then she mentally chided herself for her lack of sophistication. 

Jejune turned around and stood, just as Rod had stood earlier, with feet 
apart and hands on hips. Sue gazed up at her figure. She had hard, taut 
little breasts about the size of autumn apples. They were beautiful. Her 
belly was flat, and there was no sagging of muscles anywhere. Her pubic hair 
was gone-shaved-with only a very pale whiteness to indicate where it 
ordinarily grew. With her legs apart, as they were, Sue could see the 
pouting lips of her cunt. She swallowed and then said what she felt, "You 
have a beautiful body, Jejune." 

"And so do you, cousin. Your breasts are like the melons of the Orient as 
described by the poet Omar. I have not seen the rest of you uncovered yet, 
but I know it is just as beautiful as your face, your lovely lips, your 
kissable shoulders... " It was almost as though a man were speaking to her, 
Sue thought, and then realized she was pleased by the older woman's words of 
praise. 

Jejune quickly stepped into the pool; she obviously was used to the heat of 
the water. She came over beside Sue and then sat down. "Which leg is it?" 
she asked. 

"This one," Sue said, patting the thigh next to Jejune. 

"You must work it to get the heat into the muscles. I'll help you." With 
this, the older woman put her hands on Sue's thighs and pulled them apart. 
The water jet began hitting her sensitive cuntal lips again. Jejune worked 
the legs back and forth-open and shut-several times. She was becoming all 
too aware of the effect on her body of Jejune's hands and the surging water. 
There was a slow building sexual excitement that was reflected by the erect 
nipples of her breasts. Passion-dulled, she wondered if Jejune was doing all 
of this on purpose, if her cousin was deliberately arousing her for reasons 
she could not fathom. 

"Now, I want you to stand, bending over slightly to pull the muscles taut. 
Bend your knees a little," Jejune ordered. 

Sue did as she was instructed and a jolt of forbidden pleasure hit her as 
she felt the jet stream from behind raging against her anus and the stream 
in front playfully tugging at breasts and cuntal lips. It was a gentle 
watery cock- front and back; the hot breath of an insatiable male, an 
unfolding-a penetration-almost a liquid fucking. 

Now Jejune was attempting to wrap both hands around the injured thigh, but 
her slender fingers did not meet. None the less, she kneaded the flesh with 
a strength her petite figure denied. 

"Stand completely upright," Jejune ordered. 

Sue did so and her breasts slowly rose like twin golden suns from the 
silvery sea. She heard the command, "Spread your legs a bit;" and she 
complied, feeling again the erotic tugging of the heated, swirling water 
against her pussy. 

Jejune's violet eyes were now smoky and her nostrils, gently dilating with 
each breath, betrayed something of what she was feeling as she gazed at 
Sue's breasts. Sue waited, knowing instinctively that an unparalleled event 
in her life was about to transpire. She could fight it, or she could accept 
it. She remembered the kiss Jejune had given her when she was still a child 
of twelve. She no longer thought of it as a "strange kiss"; it was an 
exciting kiss... from the soul! "The water has done this to me," she said to 
herself. "The water. It is carrying me, like some fallen leaf, toward some 
unknown ocean." 

Jejune's hard little body moved through the water until she was standing 
directly in front of the younger girl. They were so close that their breasts 
were almost touching. Then, without warning, Jejune simply bent forward and, 
with mouth in a very small oval, placed her gentle lips on Sue's erect left 
nipple. 

Sue closed her eyes and shuddered-not in fear, not in revulsion... merely in 
pleasure. 

"Come on," Jejune said, smiling in triumph now, "Let's go into the sauna." 

Sue watched as Jejune's dripping figure climbed up out of the hydro-bath. 
When the older woman got to the top, she turned and beckoned with a curt nod 
of the head. "Come along, cousin." 

Sue swallowed painfully. She knew what was going to happen-well, maybe she 
didn't know exactly what was going to transpire, but she knew it would be a 
perverted, forbidden act. Was she so shamelessly aroused that she could no 
longer fight off the approach of a lesbian? Had her morals deserted her so 
completely that she would willingly permit this to happen to her? What had 
occurred this afternoon was unforgivable, but what she was about to permit 
to be done to her now was a sickness, a wickedness, a transgression of all 
ethics and morality. Even with these thoughts flooding her mind, Sue found 
herself woodenly climbing the steps to stand looking down at her tiny 
cousin. 

Jejune took her hand as though Sue were some frightened child lost in the 
woods. "Come," she said softly, and led her to the sauna. She opened the 
door and the hot dry heat came out of the room as though someone had opened 
the gates to hell. 

Sue docilely permitted Jejune to wrap a towel, turban-like, around her head, 
and when her cousin reached up to pin it in front her taut little breasts 
came into contact with Sue's sensitive mammaries. Sue reacted, not by 
drawing back as if stung by a scorpion, but with one sideways, almost 
imperceptible, motion of her left shoulder which scraped tit against tit. 
Jejune smiled. "You are so beautiful," she said, and then pulled Sue into 
the sauna and closed the door behind them. 

Sue found the heat not really as oppressive as she had first believed. She 
sat where Jejune indicated, on the hickory bench. It was hot-very 
not-against her buttocks, but that was all right. The pain, oddly enough, 
brought pleasure to her. 

"Lie down, cousin," Jejune said, and placed a folded towel on the bench to 
be used as a pillow. 

Sue knew that if she followed these instructions all was lost forever. No 
longer was there any pretense between either woman as to first aid or care 
of an injured leg. This was the beginning of a completely amoral sexual act, 
Sue thought, and then-amazed at her own sinfulness-lay back as directed, a 
part of her mind observing everything that went on. This knowledge would be 
useful in the future. 

"I've waited twelve years for this. I wanted you so much then. But you've 
retained your bloom. You're a true Morgan, darling. Twelve long years... I 
should have had you then." 

Abruptly, Sue's heart began hammering like a runaway steam engine. She 
swallowed. "What... what do you mean?" 

"Come on, you aren't that naive," Jejune answered, reaching out and softly 
touching Sue's erect nipple. 

"No... " Sue tried to withdraw from that electrical contact. She felt as if 
she were hypnotized-a bird watching the approach of a snake. 

"I don't know... " 

"Very well, lover. Lie there... and let me lead you into an area of delight 
you never knew existed before." 

Sue's eyes were riveted on Jejune's face, as the other woman sat on the 
sauna bench, then-after adjusting her beach towel, Jejune lay out 
full-length next to her. There was a queasy feeling in the pit of Sue's 
stomach. A dull pounding of expectation which she recognized as sexual 
arousal. He buttocks were actually trembling. Jejune's eyes were aglow with 
an unholy fire; the orbs had grown to monstrous size, as her face -coming 
closer-blocked out the sight of the rafters. Sue felt the dry heat of 
Jejune's body press against her own; thigh was now against thigh, smooth 
belly against belly, cunt against cunt, breasts brushed against breasts-with 
the nipples like hot little brown buttons of delight. 

"Now... I show... " Jejune said, and slowly took Sue's face in her hands. 
Sue felt Jejune's lips on her own. They were soft at first, and warm, and 
the saline taste of her perspiration was an elixir. The whole thing was done 
so gently that she really wasn't aware of the exact moment that Jejune's 
tongue shyly entered her mouth. She was having difficulty breathing, part of 
this caused by the knowledge that what she was doing was perverted. It was 
wicked, but this knowledge was shunted aside by a delicious feeling in her 
loins as her cunt began reverberating like a tight kettle drum. 

Sue moaned and felt the last vestiges of resistance flow from her body. 
Without volition, her tongue began softly licking and sucking at the 
invading one. Jejune's tongue withdrew, and Sue's eagerly followed it into 
the other woman's warm mouth. 

Jejune rolled one leg up over Sue's pouting Mound of Venus. The sensation 
was... was... sensational! Almost immediately, it brought smouldering coals 
to a white hot flame in her body... a flame that was fueled by the sudden 
awareness that Jejune's hands were moving knowledgeably up and down her back 
and spine, coming to rest occasionally like warm fluttering butterflies upon 
the overly sensitive buttocks. 

Sue had given way to all of the fabulous sensations when the older girl 
abruptly drew back and separated their bodies. An overwhelming feeling of 
disappointment came over her; this was replaced by inexpressible joy as 
Jejune whispered, "I love you." 

Jejune's voice betrayed her own growing excitement as she bent over and 
placed her hot lips on Sue's left breast. 

"Oh... " It was a moan of sheer delight, coming as soon as Sue felt the 
tongue teasing the nipple and the gentle sucking of her lips on the breast 
itself. Gradually, Jejune's hands had changed from butterflies to doves and 
then to hawks as they sought their feathered prey. One hand was locked on 
the right breast, the fingers worked expertly at the nipple-capturing it, 
teasing it, now squeezing it, now releasing it- working in rhythm with the 
sucking of the left breast. Jejune's other hand had found Sue's palpitating 
cuntal lips. Her long middle finger slid imperiously up and down the entire 
crack; it teasingly avoided all contact with the clitoris, even though Sue 
was undulating her pelvis by this time. Jejune's fingers remained on the 
surface, not seeking to penetrate beyond the vulva. As the crack became more 
lubricated from Sue's artesian love juices, however, Jejune's finger slipped 
further and further back until it began gently nudging the quivering brown 
little anal ring. Here, it stopped for a moment, then began an unrelenting 
pressure to push into this new orifice. Wave after wave of forbidden 
pleasure roared through Sue's body. Now, though, it was hurting. She tried 
to raise her hips to get away from the uncomfortable pressure, but Jejune's 
finger was moistened enough from the seeping cunt juices so that the first 
joint penetrated into that hot twitching little cavity. "Ah... ahhhh, that 
hurts," Sue said, not really believing her own statement. 

In answer to this protest, Jejune merely sank her teeth into the soft flesh 
of the tit and now seemingly was trying to swallow the whole thing. It was 
painful, but a beautiful, blissful pain on the threshold of ecstasy. The 
finger in the asshole now began to move gently back and forth in an effort 
to gain more depth. Slowly it rode inward. Sue's anus had so tightly 
captured the joint that each movement caused the puckered muscular ring to 
move with it. Sue moaned low in her throat; the original painful sensation 
had changed into something else... something alien, something darkly 
exciting. Now, she felt the deeper muscles of her ass flexing and unflexing 
in an effort to pull the finger in further. She was trembling. She was 
building toward a climax. It wasn't possible, she thought, that she could 
feel this way from a woman. Her body rapidly climbed toward the exalted 
peak. She wanted the finger further up her ass; she wanted something shoved 
deep in her cunt... something hard, long, vibrating! She was there... almost 
there... 

Then... Jejune withdrew finger, mouth, hands, and moved away to sit upright 
with a smile of victory on her face. 

"Oh, no!" Sue's cry was a lament. She made an effort to rise, with a plea 
for release on her lips, but Jejune's firm hand pushed her back onto the 
hickory bench. 

"Now, lover, you'll see what it's all about," Jejune crooned as she 
slithered down until she was in a half-crouching position opposite Sue's 
hips. Her voice was guttural when she simply said, "You really have the most 
beautiful little clit I've ever seen. You'll die with joy when I kiss and 
bite it." Jejune had become a paragon of gentleness again. Her soft hot lips 
kissed Sue's belly. Her tongue traced a pattern of eroticism across the 
abdomen. Once, the tongue paused in its journey to seek out the navel. It 
licked the hip bones. Sue moaned continuously as she tried to twist her 
pelvis so that her fevered, starving cunt would make contact with that soft 
fiery sword heading in its direction. Jejune, however, was choosing another 
path in the journey toward the promised land. Her cousin's hands were busy; 
then slowly they separated Sue's thighs to reveal the seeping pussy in all 
its glory. Her clitoris seemed to be vibrating like a struck gong, and the 
reverberations echoed throughout her body. Now Jejune's hungry mouth moved 
down her legs, and wave after wave, ripple after ripple of lustful pleasure 
moved with it. The outer part of Sue's upper thigh was licked, kissed and 
caressed; the outer right calf was kissed. The tongue left a trail of fire 
down the entire outer part of the leg. When it reached the soles of her 
feet, it began working its way up the smooth inside passageway leading 
toward the far-off cavern of her cunt. 

Sue lay back, her body as straight and immobile as a railroad tie. She 
couldn't feel the heat from the bench. She felt nothing but lust until she 
abruptly became aware that her head was thrown back and her fingernails were 
embedded in her own forehead. 

Jejune's educated lips swept up... up... up... toward that juicy ultimate 
goal. Little whimpering sounds of ecstasy fought their way out of Sue's 
constricted throat. Jejune's left hand tantalizingly slid along the 
alabaster inner thigh until it brushed the silken-haired nest. The touch of 
her cousin's hand on her vagina brought a birdlike cry of ecstasy bubbling 
from her throat. Nothing had ever felt as beautiful before. Then the hand 
was doing something! The thumb and forefinger were parting the lips... and 
then... 

Sue simply screamed the first time the tongue flickered like hot summer 
lightning against her pussy. "Ah... God. Go on... Don't ever stop! Ah... " 
Jejune's tongue needed no urging or directions; it had a life of its own as 
it licked the crack like a thirsty dog lapping up water. Then the tongue 
penetrated down through two hot well-lubricated layers of vaginal lips. It 
brought a low moan of delicious delight from Sue. It began moving back and 
forth as though it were a short, throbbing, vibrant prick. There was more to 
come, though, for even as Jejune drove her tongue up and down into the 
cuntal canyons, her fingers were ever so gently massaging the clitoris. Then 
tentatively, one finger of the other hand returned to the anus and sought 
entry. Surprisingly, it slid all the way to the second joint before Sue even 
knew it was in there. Then Jejune began moving the finger in a sideways 
motion in an effort to enlarge the opening. A moment later, her finger was 
all the way up the knuckle of the closed fist. The finger made wild circles, 
and then it was joined by a second finger seeking entrance. 

"God... oh... hurt me. Hurt me!" The scream came from the furthermost 
reaches of Sue's soul, and then-without warning-everything suddenly began 
collapsing about her. She was tumbling-end over end--through space, falling 
toward a hot boiling sun of sensation. There were comets here, and flaming 
meteorites -all madly rushing toward the center of that universe-her pussy! 
Sue became aware that she was screaming exaltations to her own body, as 
though she were a witch presiding over the boiling cauldron of her cuntal 
sensations. Her hands had cruelly grasped Jejune's head and was actually 
banging it up against the crotch as if she were trying to shove in tongue, 
nose face, head and all into that maelstrom of hot creamy liquid that 
actually spurted out of her cunt. Her legs and feet beat a tattoo on the 
hickory bench, and her pelvis undulated like a pile driver careening out of 
control. She was cumming. She came. She continued to cum... and cum... and 
cum! It would never end. And her voice screaming out the words over and over 
again like some broken record player, "I'm cumming... I'm cumming... I'm 
cumming." She had at least a dozen orgasms before she finally lost all 
consciousness and fell back onto the bench. 

CHAPTER ELEVEN 

Upstairs a bedroom battle was raging. Donna's sultry expression had changed 
to one of furious hate. "I suppose you deny that you and that... that... 
slut!... of a cousin of yours had sex?" 

"I don't deny it," Rod said calmly. "Do you deny that my cousin Jejune and 
you...?" His words were shut off as Donna angrily threw the contents of her 
cocktail glass into his face. 

Rod suddenly reared back and slapped her so hard that she fell onto the bed. 
She lay there, shoulders shaking, weeping disconsolately. "Oh God," she 
moaned, "what did I ever do to deserve being married into a family of 
incestuous, rutting animals like you Morgans?" 

"I don't know," he replied coldly, "but this much is certain: it was a hell 
of a lucky day for you. I give you all the cock you need, and Jejune gives 
you all the love you need." He laughed sarcastically, "To top it all off, 
now you've got Sue." 

"And what am I supposed to get from her?" Donna asked, still face down 
weeping on the bed and clenching and unclenching her fists in frustration. 

Rod thought about it. Finally, in answering, his thoughtful tone of voice 
made his wife look up in surprise, "I'm really not sure. She has a greater 
capacity for sexual things than you, Jejune, or even myself." Then feeling 
shame for losing his temper with her, he knelt alongside his wife on the 
bed. "Look, sweets. I'm sorry I hit you. It was an automatic reflex. But 
I've told you before, don't throw things at me, and don't strike me." He 
lifted her long dark hair and kissed the nape of her neck. 

Mollified somewhat at receiving attention, Donna sniffed a couple of times. 
Then her natural bitchiness took over. "How was she?" 

Rod was silent for a moment, then said simply, "She's a Morgan." 

"Oh, God!" 

"Yes, and I'm afraid that now I've found her -or better yet, now that she's 
found me-I'm afraid that we're just going to have to get used to more 
occasional company." 

"I suppose she's married to someone like that beast Kirk DeLapp?" 

"Kirk does have his points." 

"Yes, and they're all at the top of his head. He's turned into a flaming 
faggot during these last five years. Can't you understand that? A queer!" 
She shuddered in revulsion, as the leering face of the sadistic 
forty-five-year-old engineer came to mind. 

"Yeh. I know. Jejune and I were discussing him. She's going to let him go 
soon." 

"Thank God." Then angrily she looked up. "Do you and your cousin discuss 
everything? Will the two of you have a seminar when it comes time to get rid 
of me?" 

Rod patted her shoulder reassuringly. "No, darling. We both love you. We 
both desire you. I'm afraid we're both hopelessly stuck on you... in spite 
of your being a bitch at times." 

Donna sniffed again. She simply couldn't understand why she put up with such 
inhuman treatment. Here she was, a graduate of the best finishing school in 
the United States, a member of Mensa, the genius-high I.Q. organization, and 
all of the right social clubs, and with a figure that had been compared 
favorably with Raquel Welch. Why... why she could have almost any man she 
wanted. All she had to do was cock her little finger and they'd come 
crawling on bloody hands and knees just to kiss the hem of her gown. All 
except Rod! It was a familiar argument she was having with herself, and she 
already knew how it would turn out. She was a captive of the two Morgans-a 
love captive- and she would fight to the death if anyone tried to take her 
away from either Jejune or Rod. 

Rod cupped her chin in his hand and turned her face toward him. "Now listen, 
sweet. We're going to keep Sue here for a few days. Get on the phone, call 
the Lodge, and tell her husband to come here. Ask him to bring along enough 
clothes for the both of them to last three days. I want them here during the 
storm." He glanced at his watch. "He should be down from the slopes by now. 
Call him now." 

Now the anger had returned to her voice. "And I suppose I am to share my bed 
with him?" 

"Not unless you so desire, my pet." He grinned maliciously. "After all, you 
haven't put out for Kirk except once or twice." 

"And it will be a cold day in hell before I ever do again." 

Rod laughed good-naturedly. "I'm leaving the evening completely in your 
hands. Menu, entertainment, topics of conversation. Everything." 

"Everything?" 

Rod stared at her speculatively for a moment and then warned, "No tricks." 

"Not even a discussion on games people like us play?" 

Rod pondered it a second, then a wide grin split his face, "Why not? It 
should be interesting." 

"You know, of course, that Kirk will crucify her husband." 

"Cent la guerre." 

"Every man-woman-for himself?" 

"Of course," he laughed, and then Donna's laughter had joined with his. Of 
the two, hers sounded the most diabolical. And, abruptly, Donna's good 
nature returned. It was, she thought, going to be an entertaining evening, 
and none of them would ever forget it... if she had her way. 

John had presented absolutely no problems at all. In a way he was glad of 
the invitation, mainly because he knew if he stuck around the Lodge very 
long that he was bound to get into trouble. There was more loose and 
obviously willing pussy around the ski area than he ever would have believed 
possible. It was simply fantastic! And extremely dangerous, of course. It 
simply wouldn't do to have Sue discover him making the pitch to a 
palpitating little collegiate cunt. 

He hadn't been quite sure of what to pack, but he finally struggled through 
and tossed in two of Sue's sexiest nightgowns, a handful of her 
underclothes, and another pair of ski pants. The woman Donna-God, she had 
sounded rich and sexy over the phone!-had told him there was no need to 
bring dress clothes as they all practically lived in ski outfits. 

There had even been a uniformed chauffeur sent for him, which caused his 
eyebrows to raise in appreciation. When the Spanish driver, Manuel, pointed 
out the chalet standing atop the hill, with the lowering clouds scudding 
over it, John's lips had puckered in a soundless whistle. There was money in 
the family, no doubt about that. 

As he stepped out of the car, a sudden gust of wind blew dry, icy particles 
into his face. He brushed his hand across his eyes. When he looked toward 
the chalet again, the breath went right out of his body, just as if someone 
had kicked him in the groin. For one gut-aching split second he was sure the 
woman standing there must be Raquel Welch, but then on closer inspection he 
realized his mistake. He saw her eyes widen in what seemed to be approval as 
he came up the steps. God, what a delectable piece of ass, he thought. 

When she spoke, her voice sent tingles up and down the length of his spine, 
the sensation coming to rest in his suddenly tightening scrotum. "You must 
be John," she said huskily. "I'm Donna Morgan. Welcome." She held out her 
hand, and John discovered that she had a grip as strong as most males. 

He tried not to make his inspection of her too obvious, but it was hard to 
make his eyes behave. Her breasts-easily as large and as firm as Sue's-were 
braless beneath a thin white nylon shirt. He could actually see the brown 
areolas of the nipples. The rest of her figure was barely hidden by the ski 
pants which were so tight that it showed the cleft of her ass. 

Docilely, he followed her into the front room. Behind him he heard Manuel 
clattering upstairs with his luggage. 

Four people were lounging in front of a fireplace that was easily eight feet 
high. All were drinking. 

"Darling!" Sue called out and put her cocktail glass down and ran to meet 
him. She threw her arms about him with what seemed to him to be an 
extraordinary display of public affection. She kissed him warmly, and 
abruptly all of his sensitivities were telling him that something was wrong. 
There was a subtle difference about his wife. He couldn't quite make it out, 
but there definitely was something strange about her. Finally he decided it 
must be the fact that she was with relatives. 

Sue introduced him to her cousin Rod. John liked him; he recognized the 
type-playboy, rich and pampered probably, but really likable once you get to 
know them and are accepted in their circle. 

"And this is cousin Jejune," Sue said, pulling him over toward the intense 
little brunette, who shook hands with him and said, "I am very pleased to 
meet you, John. Sue has told me so much about you." 

Her statement brought a snort of derision from the fat, balding, 
pot-bellied, cigar-smoking, middle-aged man standing next to her. John 
caught Rod and Jejune's sudden narrowing of eyes, as if in warning. 

Sue acted as if she hadn't heard anything. "Kirk, this is my husband, John 
Bigelow. John... Kirk Delnapp, Jejune's husband." 

John held out his hand, but Kirk merely nodded his head curtly and said, 
"Hi. Welcome to Peyton Place-West." 

Donna stepped between them. "What will you have to drink, John?" She stood 
so close that her breasts were brushing his sweater. 

John glanced around to see what the others were drinking. It looked like a 
mixed bag, he thought. "Any Scotch?" 

"Of course," Donna purred. "Come on... with me." 

He followed her across the room to a long mahogany bar, complete with about 
a dozen black padded leather bar stools. "Any favorite brand?" she asked. 

He smiled at her, once again fighting to keep his eyes off those beguiling 
tits. "House brand is okay with me." 

"Fine. Royal Salute-Chivas-twenty-one year-old malt Scotch. Anything with 
it?" 

John shook his head. "It would be a sin to mix anything with that." He found 
his disobedient eyes had fallen again on her breasts. When he looked up, he 
found she was smiling in amusement, almost as if she were acknowledging his 
tribute to her mammaries, almost as if he and she were sharing some secret 
that no one else knew about. 

Donna had tried for almost an hour to get everyone out of the front room and 
in to dinner. Kirk obviously was well on his way to a nasty drunk; Jejune 
had confided to her that his two little boy friends had committed a gross 
act of betrayal by allowing Kirk to perform fellatio on them and then they 
had taken off just as he was preparing to bugger them. Unhappily, they had 
departed with his wallet containing about three hundred dollars in cash. 
Jejune had thought it hilarious; Donna merely felt it was just what he 
deserved. 

Even Rod was getting drunk, and that was unusual. Ordinarily he did a very 
good job of holding his liquor. Donna finally decided that the weather was 
making everyone drink more than was good for them. "Thank God," she said to 
herself, "for Maria's good nature. A lot of cooks would just walk off the 
job if they had to hold dinner for over an hour while the guests got 
smashed." 

Even Donna was feeling the effects of her booze. It must have been that, she 
decided, or she wouldn't have jumped up on the long banquet table in front 
of the fireplace and yelled, "Addling! Dinner is served. And I mean now! The 
bar is closed." 

"What's wrong with her?" Kirk snarled. 

"I guess it's time to eat," Rod answered, and then held out his arm for Sue. 
"May I, cousin?" Sue dimpled, made a parody of a curtsy and almost fell on 
her face. The effects of prolonged love-making with Rod, the strenuous 
skiing, Jejune's little performance, were taking their toll of her 
equilibrium. 

Donna finally got them seated in the dining room and dinner was served by a 
coldly polite Maria. Rod raised his eyebrows at Donna in sympathy. The 
Spanish cook would be surly for a day or two before returning to normal. 

Midway through dinner, with four bottles of rare vintage wine already 
consumed, people, including Donna, simply stopped eating and began drinking. 
A sudden gust of wind caused a storm shutter to slam with the noise of a 
gunshot, but no one jumped. 

They gabbed and chortled and laughed about everything. Donna abruptly became 
aware that both Rod and Kirk were talking much too loudly, that Sue seemed 
to be far too intently interested in what they were saying. A malicious grin 
crossed her face. Sue obviously was finding something disconcerting and 
Donna knew what was disturbing her: both Kirk and Rod had their hands out of 
sight. Sue was being finger-fucked. Jejune's eyes glowed across the table at 
her, carrying a warning. Donna really didn't care. To hell with them all, 
she thought. Her plans for the evening were rapidly going astray, but that, 
too, was all right because when it came time to strip the shaky facades from 
these hypocrites, it would be just that much easier. She knew she was 
drinking too much herself; that was the only excuse she could offer for what 
she did next. John's hand had tentatively brushed her knee. She merely 
grabbed it and pulled it into her crotch. She almost laughed at the amazed 
look on his face. Almost immediately he began rubbing his middle-finger 
against her cunt. She purred deep in her throat. And that was the way the 
next twenty minutes went-loud talk that fooled no one- hands under the 
table... hypocrisy and more alcohol. 

Outside, as though a thousand demons were attempting to join the party, the 
wind shrieked and howled. The demons went unheard, even though they banged 
and pounded at shutters... 

CHAPTER TWELVE 

Donna was drunkenly amused. Once she had put her hand under the table and 
squeezed the area where she thought John's penis would be. She felt the hard 
bulge, and saw him sit upright as though someone had just stuck something up 
his ass. She brought her hand back up to her wine glass. A moment later, she 
decided to do it again. This time she laughed out loud when she discovered 
that in just those few seconds the sly rascal had unzipped his pants and 
taken his prick out of his shorts. 

"What's so funny?" Rod asked across the table. 

"Nothing, darling," Donna replied, and her hand, hidden by the tablecloth, 
stroked John's cock. Really, his expression was the most ludicrous she had 
ever seen. The second he began to look as if he were getting with it, she 
stopped. 

Then her laughter bubbled out again, even louder this time, for John's face 
looked startled once more. That would be Jejune under there, Donna thought, 
and saw she was right, for the woman's left hand was out of sight. 

Suddenly, the hypocrisy was more than Donna could stand. Now was the time to 
strip the facades from this bunch of drunks, she thought; now was the time 
for them to learn what misbegotten creatures they all were. With some sort 
of drunken logic she planned the event. It would outdo Who's Afraid of 
Virginia Woolf in its viciousness. Oh, how they would suffer! Kirk and John 
were already snarling at each other; with a little prodding they both would 
turn on Rod and he would then see them for what they were. Opportunists. 
Bores. Not really socially acceptable! 

As for Sue? Well, just look at her. Drunk. Slurring her syllables. Allowing 
herself to be fondled by two men at the same time. Slut! That's what his 
precious cousin was-a slut. 

Yes, there would never be a better chance to expose them. Right now! Donna 
stood, and her heavy-backed chair toppled over with a crash. She paid no 
heed to it. "Attention, everyone. Attention, please." 

No one paid much heed to her. Jejune and Rod were yelling across the table; 
Jejune's hand was still out of sight, although the movement of her arm 
showed she was still loyally pumping away on the prick. 

"Attention... " 

Sue and Kirk were talking loudly, striving to be heard above Rod and Jejune. 
Only John was silent. He sat there with a rather pleased expression on his 
face. 

Donna picked up her wine glass and threw it across the room; it hit the wall 
with a splintering crash and the wine ran down like blood. "SHUT UP!" she 
screamed. 

Silence, except for the wind which continued to shriek. 

"That's better," Donna purred. "In view of the fact that I am in charge of 
the evening's entertainment and have been appointed group discussion leader, 
I now order you all into the living room." 

Rod gazed at her speculatively. There was a glint of humor in his eye; it 
was matched by the amusement in Jejune's. Sue merely looked embarrassed at 
the unspeakably bad manners of the hostess. 

"Who appointed you dictator?" Kirk growled. 

"I did," Rod answered. "Go along with it. You might find it amusing." 

"Enough conversation. Into the living room. Now!" Donna moved away from the 
table and weaved her way across the dining room. She hit the door, then 
staggered through it to the living room. 

It was obvious, from the way they weaved, that everyone had taken far too 
much to drink. The liquor had long since ceased to be an antifreeze against 
the cold; now it was a stimulant to the physical system contrasting sharply 
with their impaired powers of reasoning. One by one they got up from the 
table; Sue had to be assisted by both Kirk and Rod. 

"What the fuck we following her around like a flock of sheep?" Kirk 
demanded. "I ain't interested in no organized fun and games. I got ideas of 
my own," he said, drunkenly draining the last of his wine. 

When they were in the living room, Donna was standing on the raised hearth 
of the blazing fireplace, towering over the others as if she were some 
performer on a stage. 

"Just find a seat and brace yourself for a dose of... " She was interrupted 
by Kirk. "Clap!" he shouted. 

"Shut up. A dose of truth." 

"I'm afraid I don't understand what you're getting at, Donna, my dear. Tell 
us the meaning of this foolish, childish little game," Jejune said. 

"In a minute. Everyone sit down. Now!" Obediently, they all took seats 
side-by-side on the long black leather couch facing the hearth. 

"All right," Donna announced, satisfied that she finally had an audience. "I 
can afford to be honest, where the rest of you hypocritical bastards cannot 
be." She hiccuped once. "I am without sin, so to speak, and thus can throw 
the first stone. I accuse all of you of being degenerates." 

"Oh my God," Jejune said quietly. 

"Yes. Degenerates. I've been watching Rod and Kirk fondling Sue under the 
table. Watched you, Jejune masturbate John, while he attempted to 
finger-fuck me under the table." 

Rod hid his face in his hands, and attempted to stifle his laughter. There's 
one thing, he thought with amusement, she really has their attention now. He 
could hardly wait to see what Donna did next. 

Up on the hearth, Donna raised her chin and nodded several times. "We are 
all adults. We must act that way. No hypocrisy. Nothing to hide." With that, 
and playing to the hush that hung heavily over the room, she slowly... and 
tantalizingly... began unbuttoning her blouse. A moment later, she threw it 
into the fire. She turned to face her shocked audience with a look of 
defiance. Her breasts, like the proud breasts of some pagan temple high 
priestess, shone in the firelight. 

"Oh, wow." The exclamation came from John. 

Now Donna was angry again. "You. You out there. You holier-than-thou lying, 
fornicating males! You'll fuck every chance you get when you're away from 
your wife, but you're too shy and timid to drop your drawers when she's in 
the same room." It was a taunt, a challenge, a dare... an indictment. 

"Not me, "baby," Kirk said, unbuckling his belt and letting his pants fall 
to the floor; his semi-erect penis snapped out like an unhinged safety pin. 
"I'll play any way you suggest, but come to me." He stroked his prick a 
couple of times and tried to get up on the hearth with the bare-bosomed 
Donna, but she forced him back by putting her foot against his chest and 
shoving. He fell back against the couch. 

"And what about you two women? Jejune? Sue... darling! Do you like lesbian 
sex so much that the sight of a male's nudity scares you?" 

Sue looked as if she had been slapped across the face. Jejune's smile was 
ominous, and it promised retribution. 

"What the hell is she talking about?" John asked Sue. 

"It's drink talk, darling. She doesn't know what she's saying," Sue tried to 
whisper. 

"Get out of those clothes, Sue, or I'll elaborate fully," Donna ordered. 
"And you, John, you talk tough about fags, but your penis is still inside 
your pants. Maybe you don't have enough to show...?" 

"You fucking bitch," John called to Donna, unfastening his pants. "You'll 
see how much prick I have when I shove it clown your throat." 

"Now that the party's getting a glow on," Donna brightened, "I am going to 
put my pussy out in the wind for the first taker." 

Donna peeled off her ski pants and slid the bikini panties down her thighs 
until she stood completely naked on the hearth platform in front of them. 
She looked like an exercise instructor for a mixed group of students in 
varying shades of undress. John had never seen a lovelier muff on any woman; 
it was positively luxuriant. 

"All right, get your rags off, you stinking sinners. We're going to wash our 
hypocrisy away in one long snowed-in laundromat," Donna sang out, leaping 
down from her platform to mingle with the others. She approached her 
husband, who was standing dumbly staring at her, still dressed. She nudged 
him in the groin. 

"What do you say now, baby? You've been wanting to limber up your far-out 
kinks. Drop your laundry. No telling what you'll attract." 

Rod felt unable to speak, so shocked was he by the change that had come over 
his wife. She had been sulky and smouldering for some time, but little could 
he expect that her dying sparks would erupt into a forest fire, that his 
strait-laced wife would actually encourage an orgy. 

Donna padded her way over to the stereo and stacked on a number of records. 
The naked De-Lapp sidled up to her. "Why don't you get up there on that long 
ancient dining room table, and those 'hypocrites,' as you called them, won't 
know what to think when I shove this little baby right up your asshole. Rod 
can fuck you in the cunt. You can give that punk kid a blow job. But it'll 
be my prick that sends you into orbit." 

The first record dropped into place and a soft Latin rhythm filled the air. 
Donna was not in the least bit offended by the words spoken by Kirk. She had 
seldom heard such language and ideas, true; but she found she was enjoying 
the crude profanities and his blunt description of depraved sexual acts. It 
excited her to hear the word pictures and sense the possibilities of the 
perverse postures, and in her drunkenness she treated it as a schoolyard 
game. It would fit in perfectly with her plans of exposing them as 
degenerate hypocrites. 

Donna reached out for his prick and casually stroked it a couple of times. 
"Good idea," she said, so loosely and flippantly that the naked Kirk looked 
down at his rigid cock enclosed in her hand and then back up to her face. 

"You'd better not be kidding," he snarled dangerously, "This is nothing to 
joke about." 

"What makes you think I'm joking?" Donna said. 

Kirk reached out and placed his hand over her naked breast, sliding it down 
her side to her hip. He curved it around her buttocks and pulled her toward 
him until their bellies touched, the head of his prick pressed and throbbed 
against her navel. 

"Because you're out of character, bitch. I've been trying to asshole fuck 
you for a long time and you've always denied me. Why now?" 

It was a good question, Donna thought, the booze not completely dulling her 
appreciation of the ridiculousness of what she was proposing. She was going 
to permit Kirk DeLapp, a man whose little mouth, the lips colorless and 
curling, a dead giveaway of his not very latent cruelty, to ram his cock up 
her rectum, and under ordinary circumstances she wouldn't allow him to hold 
her hand, even though she had permitted him into her bed out of sheer 
revenge two or three times because of Rod and Jejune's incestuous behavior. 

But how could Donna put into words the reasoning behind her decision, the 
thoughts that drove her, probably at the moment the only rational and 
reasonably wholesome member of the group, into proposing and organizing a 
program of spectator sex? What she had seen in the other room, the men 
acting like intoxicated bees winging their way to the honey of Sue's snatch, 
and John's own sneaky advances to her, had clarified her own ideas of the 
personalities involved. They all needed help. She would be their group 
leader. It was clear that each member was infected with a sexual hang-up, 
some only kinky like Kirk's preference for buggering, while others were 
playing toward an entire new life-style, specifically Sue's flirtation with 
an AC-DC experiment. At the beginning of this evening, Donna had believed an 
open, frank and forthright discussion was needed. When that had become 
impossible as the liquor took over, more drastic measures now were called 
for; a raw group therapy confrontation in which the flaw could be visualized 
and experienced and then discussed. She tried to put it into words. 

"We're going to play 'Show And Tell,' Kirk, the way the kids do in school. 
After the show, you tell what it was like, and I'll tell you what it means, 
what's wrong with you." 

"That's a crock of shit, but let's get this show on the road." 

Kirk took her by the arm and led her to the long low leather couch. 

"John, drop your drawers. She wants you in this production. You get to play 
the top slice of bread." 

"The old sandwich game, huh? You bet," John said without pausing to think, 
and dropping his trousers over a prick that had been stiff since the first 
sight of Donna naked. 

To say Rod was surprised by his wife's sudden and unexplained behavior would 
be an understatement. He was amazed. And delighted. Rod had been dreaming of 
this moment, the decision from her that would open whole new vistas of total 
sexual expression. Rod was certain their years of married life together had 
taken a toll, that their relationship had stagnated. Died of boredom. The 
feel of a couple of strange cocks inside her would do wonders, driving her 
closer to him the same way he always felt more considerate of his wife after 
he knocked off an outside cunt. 

Goddamn stubborn women, it takes them forever to learn. But when they do 
come around, they do it with a vengeance, he thought. Letting Kirk have her 
asshole in public. Jesus! It had taken him years to wear her down to the 
point that she'd even permit an occasional anal fuck. Rod turned to Sue. She 
was watching with wide excited burning eyes as Kirk, seated in the middle of 
the couch, prepared Donna, and her husband stroked his long cock into 
readiness. 

Sue felt Rod's eyes on her. 

"Oh, Rod, I've never seen others do it," she groaned, "my own husband with 
your wife." Oddly enough, she was horribly excited by the prospect of seeing 
it-of viewing the lewd spectacle, and her arousement was centered in her 
throbbing hungry vagina. She wanted to watch; she wanted to fuck! 

"Don't worry, cousin," Rod said, beginning to pull off her clothing. 
"There's no one I'd rather watch with than you. It's poetic justice for John 
to screw Donna since I own the cherry of the girl he married. And I'll put 
another notch on my cane while we watch." 

Kirk positioned Donna standing in front of him and turned her around so that 
he faced her ass. She tugged on John's cock as he ran his hands over her 
breasts and down to the triangle between her legs, slipping a finger inside 
the warm wet pussy lips. 

"Keep your knees straight and bend over. Suck John's cock if you want," Kirk 
ordered. 

Donna, now strangely acquiescent, obeyed, bending down and taking the head 
of the upstanding cock between her lips, licking the sharp-tasting drops 
foaming from the glans. She felt John's loins tense and his fingers lace 
into her hair at the same time as Kirk's hands spread open her buttocks. The 
tip of the tongue on her tightly puckered anus made Donna rock forward in 
cold shock, sucking in John's long fat prick until her nose hit his pubic 
hair. 

She mewed and squirmed uncomfortably as the wet tongue toyed with her 
asshole, Donna concentrating on sucking John's prick to keep her mind off 
the maddening tantalizing tickle in the crevice of her ass. She felt her 
body giving up its resistance to this depraved act; indeed, there was almost 
immediate and uncontrollable excitement growing in her. 

John clenched and unclenched his hands in her hair, gently rotating his hips 
and feeling the waves of pleasure washing down through his intestines to his 
balls as he fucked the warm wet in sucking sensuous red-lipped hole in the 
beautiful face of this previously aloof woman. He felt dizzy as if the blood 
rushing to his swelling prick were being drained directly from his brain and 
he needed to hold her head for balance. 

Kirk worked widening circles on the little asshole with his tonguetip until 
he was washing the whole of the wrinkled rubber ring and its surrounding 
walls with the flat of his tongue. He returned the tip to the asshole 
opening and pressed until the tough nether flesh gave and let the tongue in. 
Donna involuntarily tightened her sphincters around his tongue and clenched 
her wide-open ass cheeks on his face. She moaned as he flicked his tongue 
further in and out of the opening, relentlessly wearing down the stubborn 
will of the rubbery ring to resist when he introduced the head of his cock. 

Donna's ass, imprisoned by his hands, struggled sideways to rid the anus of 
the persistent visitor, but Kirk applied forward pressure with his head on 
her buttocks and drove her further up John's choking cock. 

He continued to dance his tongue in and out of her asshole, pushing deeper 
and twirling circles with the tip, until Donna thought it would drive her 
insane. She unconsciously increased the suction from her mouth at a frenzy 
to match the darts loosening up her backside, unknowingly giving John the 
best blow job he ever had, wet, busy working, warm and passionate, making 
his legs feel weak, John became aware of the tensing building up in his 
balls, and he knew if she kept her delicious living mouth on his prick a 
minute longer, he was going to cum all over the place. He didn't want to end 
it all so quickly, but he wasn't, by Christ, going to let the work of an 
expert cocksucker go unrewarded. 

Kirk settled the problem for both of them. He pulled his head out of her ass 
and leaned back on the couch, spreading his thighs and positioning his stiff 
cock skyward. He slapped Donna on the ass to get her attention. She backed 
off John's prick and looked over her shoulder at Kirk. 

"Whoa back." He grinned at her evilly, his hands slipping around her 
buttocks to the front, the fingers digging into her hipbones as he pulled 
her toward him. 

Donna was so aroused that resistance was impossible; she lowered herself 
until she felt the broad head of the cock touch the crevice. Now Kirk moved 
his hands around to the underside of her buttocks and split them open wide 
to settle the tip of his prick against the rubbery ring. 

Donna's face tensed as she anticipated the ripping pain of entry, supporting 
her weight with her hands on the couch. She held her breath as the pressure 
from DeLapp's cock against her asshole mounted as she gingerly lowered and 
the prick rose higher to complete the union. 

Donna's heavy irregular breathing was the only sound in the room. The others 
watched quietly, in hypnotized fascination, as the beautiful woman pulled 
her lips back over her clenched teeth and turned every ounce of her 
concentration to inflicting upon herself that first flash of intestinal pain 
that would mean the prick had broken through the resisting asshole ring. 
Sweat was breaking out on her brow and her underarms. Suddenly it happened. 
"Aaaaag, Jesus!" 

Kirk reached around and grabbed the heavy breasts of the panting perspiring 
woman who had admitted the head of his prick to her asshole. He felt the 
nipples instantly snap erect to his touch. He wiggled his own buttocks into 
the couch cushion to help her rectum adjust. The tiny stretched anus gripped 
the head of his cock like a rubber band stretched to the limits. She was 
over the first part of the pain and now all that remained was for the rectum 
to take his cock to the hilt. 

Kirk pulled against her breasts and humped up his groin to wedge more cock 
into her asshole. 

"Oh, easy! Jesus! Take it easy," she groaned. 

The abused ass sent a tightening signal to the entry ring and it gripped 
around the prickhead like the noose on a hanging victim. DeLapp kneaded her 
breasts harshly and gouged his forehead into her spine as he felt the 
intimidating asshole attempting to guillotine his prick. He couldn't stand 
waiting any longer. He centered his strength and drove his loins up off the 
cushion with all his might. 

"Ugh, ooh, ahhh." 

He had cruelly impaled her asshole with all of his cock. In a split-second 
of relaxation of the tight ring, he had plunged his long shaft unimpeded to 
the hot rubbery depths of her rectum. Donna's body quivered from the sudden 
rude shock. The burning pain up her anal passage was easing off as her rear 
almost immediately adjusted to the cruel sodomy. She lifted her face and saw 
John's prick standing at the ready in front of her. She took it in her hand 
and heard the catch in his throat escape as if he were on the edge of 
cumming and the slightest attention would finish the job. She hoped he 
wouldn't cum and spoil it because now she had to be fucked-and fucked 
royally-or go insane. 

"Hurry up, Kirk. Get her over," John practically shouted. 

Donna remembered there were three faces behind John and she wondered what 
kind of a lewd picture they presented. She imagined she looked as if she 
merely was sitting on his lap, there being no way of knowing now that there 
was a prick up her ass. Kirk flexed his cock and she winced. 

"It's a tight sweet little asshole," he admitted, like a true connoisseur. 

DeLapp nudged Donna to follow and he began turning his body to the side, 
sliding his ass on the cushion and lifting his feet up from the floor. Her 
asshole held tight to his cock and directed her following body with a 
painful radar. Finally they were settled on the couch with DeLapp on his 
back, his cock embedded deep inside her anus, and she lying full-length on 
her back tight against his stomach and chest. Her legs were limp, feet drawn 
up to the outside of his thighs and the knees open to ease the tearing 
strain on her asshole. 

John couldn't wait. He slipped between her widespread legs, straddling 
Kirk's knees and opened her thighs even wider. He took his throbbing hot 
cock in his hand and guided it without delay until the bulbous head split 
her soft pink damp warm cuntlips. He took a deep breath and fell lightly 
forward to chew on her breasts, letting his husky cock sink to the stump in 
blissful relief in the wet unresisting cavern of her cunt. 

"Ooooooooh," she moaned, the pleasure in her voice was undeniable, as John's 
glistening white cock slid smoothly into her belly, joining DeLapp's prick 
already buried there in her rectum. Donna was sandwiched between them, 
impaled between their cocks like meat on a barbecue spit. Only the thin wall 
of flesh between her anus and snatch separated the two fleshy spears. 

There was no waiting. John, holding his breath since she ended her sucking 
of his cock, began furiously fucking into her hot moist pussy, while Kirk 
beneath thrusted up with short solid strokes into the depths of her rectum. 
In a few seconds they had found a natural rhythm and buffeted her between 
them like a boxer and his trainer exercising with the heavy bag. Donna had 
begun a low moan, not even conscious of the sound herself, the strange sound 
of a cat purring in soprano, interrupted occasionally by a deep grunt from 
her chest as they smacked into her body with greater and greater impact. 

The two thick cudgels of white meat skewered Donna's wide wishboned legs, 
splitting the orifices of her loins like twin battering rams. The 
spectators, who were all naked themselves now, were strangely quiet. The 
only sounds in the room were the grunts and moans, the sound of flesh 
pounding on flesh, and the wind rattling against the shutters. 

Sue stood between Rod and Jejune, both of whom were absently running their 
fingers over her body as they watched the fucking spectacle on the couch in 
mounting excitement. Sue was clinically interested in how her husband fucked 
Donna, because she could vicariously take the place of the other woman in 
her mind, as she saw the ragged pink edges of Donna's cunt drawing back with 
John's outstroke and then his cunt-wet cock folding the lips in again as the 
long stroke rammed the prick far into the deepest accessible parts of her 
belly. 

Sue saw that Kirk was taking cruel pleasure in the violation of Donna's 
asshole, gritting his teeth and grinning demoniacally with each murderous 
long stroke he rammed splittingly between her buttocks. She also realized 
that it was Rod's hand tenderly holding and squeezing her breast, and she 
didn't have to think about the fine-boned slender hand that stroked the fur 
muff above her vagina, knowing from the skilled pleasure-producing touch 
that it belonged to Jejune. 

Viewing the two men ravishing the beautiful Donna at the same time, beating 
her insides with their pelvic billyclubs with no thought of injury, stirred 
up the most intense feelings of desire in Sue's swelling breasts that she 
had ever experienced. She wanted Rod to fuck her, or the tender sucking lips 
of Jejune to work her vagina to jelly and her clitoris to a bursting fibrous 
glow, and then to experience that marvelous moment of climax. Her modesty 
over the prospect of performing in front of others vanished and was 
forgotten as the cries from the twin-fucked Donna reached a new decibel 
level. Even the wind howled in ecstasy. Sue had to cum and she wouldn't 
hesitate to do it in Yankee Stadium before sixty-five thousand screaming 
sports fans the way she now felt. 

Donna was moaning in undisguised impassioned pleasure. Totally letting 
herself go, overindulged in pricks, she howled and bucked and fucked back at 
each of the pounding penises. With each driving digging stroke, she 
counter-punched, taking everything they had-wanting even more. She was the 
very picture of wantonness. Her hips fired backwards to meet the up-thrust 
of Kirk's cramming his cock into her rectum and then shot forward to swallow 
the whole of John's plunging cock into her lead-melting-hot pussy. Her whole 
frame undulated between the two men and her buttocks twitched as they moved 
in tiny abandoned circles. 

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah... " she chanted in step with the buildup inside her 
belly toward an explosion, the climb inside her at an even faster pace than 
the punishing dual thrusting into her loins. She was almost there, close, 
closer, closer! All three of them were groaning and panting and gasping a 
rendition of total oblivion to life or persons outside of their sexual 
triangle. 

John finished first. 

"I'm cumming... oh, fuck, it's good," he slobbered down on her breasts as he 
fired a full load of hot sperm into her steaming pussy, his prick being 
pumped by Donna's flailing muff as she reached her climax. 

"Ooooh, oooooh, I'm cumming. I'M CUMMING! Oooooh... My ass, my cunt... oh, 
ooooh! God!" 

Donna's orgasm climbed and climbed, it doubled-echoed-continued, but she was 
still conscious of the spurting prick in her cunt, and then she heard the 
puffing sound beneath her and the heavy groan before the first molten burst 
of viscous seminal fluid flooded her rectum, the twitching prick swelling as 
it fired another salvo and further stretching her seldom-worked asshole 
passage. 

"Up the ass! All the way... deep, deep, up your fucking ass," Kirk growled 
into her hair with the voice of a madman as his flowing cock spewed the last 
burst of jism into her body, and she began the decline from her climax. 

They lay, a sticky wet oozing heap for a minute, breathing heavily, taking 
time to let their heartbeats settle and the blood return to its other roles 
in the body. Finally John climbed up, his prick limp and withdrawing from 
her cunt with a wet sucking noise. Donna lay still, unable to move with Kirk 
beneath her holding her around the waist and with his cock up her asshole. 
Gratefully now she could feel the prick deflating. John stood over the couch 
and looked at how she was lying, legs obscenely splayed, his cum mixing with 
her own and spilling out the ragged pink edges of her cunt-lips and down to 
the stump of Kirk's cock protruding from her rectum below. 

John looked at his wife, half expecting to find a disapproving hurt 
expression on her face... if she bothered to return his look at all. He was 
stunned. Her eyes were wide and glazed over with smoking desire, and she was 
holding Rod's stiff prick in her hand. Her look was locked on Kirk's cock 
still embedded in Donna's asshole. John also was shocked to see that Jejune 
had two fingers up Sue's cunt, but his wife was making no objection. No more 
than she was pushing away Rod's hand lazily feeling her tits. John clearly 
saw his wife frozen in an emotional hangover trance, transfixed by the 
experience of viewing Donna sandwiched between John and Kirk. 

Sue all at once snapped out of it. She squeezed Rod's prick in her hand as 
if joyfully aware of it for the first time and looked at his face eagerly. 

"Do it to me." 

"Sure. Which side?" 

"I want it in my bottom. I've never had it there." 

"Fine. Looks like I'm always the guy who does the firsts. First in suck, 
first in fuck and first in the ass of my cousin." He managed to make it 
sound like a family motto. 

Jejune took her by the arm. 

"Rod can do what Kirk was doing, and I will play John's role here," she 
said, patting Sue's pubic hair. "We will keep it all in the family." 

A flash of doubt crossed Sue's face. She saw Donna sitting up on Kirk's lap 
and lifting her plundered asshole off his dying prick. It came out with a 
loud plop as the tight vacuum was broken. Donna had a dazed expression, like 
a prizefighter who has taken a solid shot to the head and cannot shake off 
the effects. Her eyes bulged wide as if being forced out from behind by 
liquid filling her head. 

"L-listen to m-me, all of you. I want... w-want to... " Donna said, unable 
to enunciate words. She struggled to circumvent the wadding stuffed in her 
brain so that she could take charge once more, to get the gathering back 
under control and reveal to them, from what they had witnessed, what were 
the mental quirks with John and Kirk: how John was a classic example of the 
insecure and immature boy trying to convince himself of his malehood by his 
sickening, hound-sniffing, never-ending quest for strange tail; and how the 
sadistic Kirk with his preference for the buggering of even his female sex 
partners had blossomed from latent homosexuality into a full flowering fag. 
But Donna's capacities for making these and other observations had deserted 
her. They disappeared just as her traditional reserve, her high I.Q., and 
her love for mother, flag, and country had galloped off to desert her at the 
precise moment her overfucked body's sensual spirit peaked to the highest 
possible orgasm within her human tolerance. 

Donna had flipped out. Been lucked silly! She wouldn't get her head together 
for days, and when she did her preconceived notions about the ways husbands 
and wives should behave by themselves, and with other couples of similar 
tastes, would have been rinsed away without a trace of memory, scrubbed and 
drained along with the cum of two men who convincingly conveyed into her 
anal and vaginal orifices the message that you better get it now while there 
are people around wanting to share it with you, because you won't find 
swappers when you're in the senior citizens' home! 

Sue obediently and eagerly bent over the edge of the awe-inspiring huge 
mahogany table, baring her ass for all the world to see. She even put both 
hands behind her and pulled apart the cheeks of her buttocks, to reveal the 
little brown star of her virginal anus. Rod stepped up behind her and began 
teasingly working his huge stiff cock into the folds of her ass. 

"Will it hurt very much, Rod?" she asked. "You're so big, and I'm so small 
there." 

Rod bent down and kissed her buttocks. "It will hurt at first," he admitted. 
"But didn't it hurt the night I broke your hymen in the car?" 

John's mouth fell open and a strangled sound of protest gurgled from his 
throat. 

Rod continued, his voice calmly reassuring, "I don't believe you regret that 
little pain." 

John spoke up. "Sue... darling! You're not going to let him... " He stopped. 
There was pain in his voice and anguish on his face. He had grown afraid, 
now that his balls were empty and he felt a measure of his rational mind 
restored, that he would be forced to witness a degradation of his wife that 
would write an end to that last measure of innocence he cherished in her. 
She wasn't like other women. She wasn't a slut--like Donna. "Sue... I 
realize I have no right to try to be your moral advisor, not after what you 
watched happen... " 

"That's exactly right, John," she interrupted coldly, and now she sounded 
perfectly sober. "No right at all." John persisted, with a hurt tone in his 
voice. "Darling, think of how horrible you'll feel tomorrow. You're drunk. 
You don't know what you're doing." 

Sue narrowed her eyes and fixed them steadily on her husband. Then an 
obscene phrase she had heard once from two English sailors fighting in a bar 
came to mind. "Fuck off," she snarled. "I am about to be asshole fucked and 
cunt eaten... for starters." 

The blow caught John between the eyes, a foul tip from a bat that literally 
powered him backwards a few paces. "What's happened to you?" he cried, his 
voice almost unrecognizable in shock. 

Sue seemed to grow as he seemed to shrivel in size. There was a fire in her 
eyes-an all-consuming fire that even made Kirk move back nervously. It was 
as though the old Sue had been merely a chrysalis and, as they watched, a 
new birth, a new transformation was taking place. 

Regally she walked to the hearth, where minutes before Donna had presided. 
She stepped up on it and stood looking down. "Beside me, Rod. Beside me, 
Jejune." The two cousins, smiling knowingly, got up on the hearth. The three 
of them stood precisely the same way, with legs outstretched and hands on 
hips. 

"We're the Morgans," Sue said. "The great-great-great grandchildren of 
pirate Henry Morgan and the woman he neglected to marry. Only today have we 
realized we are, in reality, a sexual triumvirate. And none of you shall 
ever separate us again. You, Donna. You have nothing to fear from me, for I 
shall love you as does Jejune." Her voice seemed momentarily to have 
saddened, "You, John. Whether we stay as man and wife depends upon your 
ability to adjust to the situation. If you're man enough, if you can 
reconcile your silly little double standards, then there is hope." 

Outside, the wind had died and now the pure white snow flakes came floating 
down from a starless sky. Today's and yesterday's tracks were gone; tomorrow 
everything would be new. 

The three cousins put their arms around each other. They kissed. 

And Sue, obviously the new high priestess, issued the first royal command. 
"Now... let us make love." 


THE END
