Chapter 8

At breakfast the following morning Mr. and Mrs. Stevenson were seated alone having coffee, toast and orange juice. Their conversation was dry-the conversation of two strangers who didn't particularly like each other. But they liked each other pretty well-they were merely very badly hung-over.

A blank silence had descended on the table, and Edmund was daydreaming about his new traveling secretary when a pleasant male voice broke into his thoughts. "Aren't you Mr. Stevenson of Monolith Mutual Life?"

He looked up and smiled. "Yes, sir." He stood.

"Of course you don't know me, but I'm Lou Martin; that lady at the table is Linda, my wife. We asked at the desk and they pointed you out to us...."

Stevenson wondered what the deal was, but he smiled.

"We're policyholders...."

"Oh, of course, Mr. Martin! You're protected by the Monolith! That's great. Really great! Where are you folks from?"

"We're from way up North-Idaho. Down for some sun...."

"Idaho? Good heavens, do you know our Ellen Speakman?"

"Mrs. Speakman? Of course we do. She wrote our policy. Honey, they know Mrs. Speakman." He smiled and turned to Stevenson once again. "Is she here? In Miami?"

"Yes, of course, but I don't know where she is at the moment. She should be down shortly. By the way, who is the other couple you're sitting with? Are they from Idaho?"

"They are Mr. and Mrs. Sandeen, my sister and brother-in-law. Good prospects for your group here, by the way. They've just picked a sheep ranch and could use some insurance. Maybe we'll see Mrs. Speakman and she can talk to them."

"Well," Stevenson laughed, "you certainly shall see Ellen. We're throwing a cocktail party in the ballroom at four this afternoon ... please come. It's informal: no ties. Can you and your group make it?"

"A cocktail party? Why, heck yes! Thanks. We'll be there at four, and if you see our friend, tell her we're in room 820. She should drop up and say hello."

"I'll certainly tell her, Mr. Martin."

"Lou."

"Right, Lou. And this is Sandy. Call me Ed."

The group smiled and Martin left with a wide smile on his face. He returned to his friends with news of a cocktail party and the fact that Ellen Speakman was at the convention. Lou liked Ellen-there was something about her, but he didn't quite know what it was. She was such a woman. Old, but a real woman.

Bob and Marilyn Sandeen studied the menu and Bob sneered. "My God, sixty cents for a crummy glass of orange juice! Toast, six bits! Coffee, two bits with refills at fifteen cents. Goddamn! We should have gone to the State Park with our own stuff."

"Everything's expensive these days, honey," Marilyn said.

"Ain't it the truth!" Lou added. "A guy can make ten thousand a year and still be hard up. It's crazy. How can someone get ahead? Damned if I can figure it."

Linda sipped her coffee and looked at Bob. He looked like a young and rugged Paul Newman, with wavy brown hair and piercing blue eyes. Short and husky, he was one of the better-looking men around. She wished he wasn't her brother-in-law. Being in the same car with him for a week had lowered her resistance to the point where she didn't have it any more. He could touch her, just touch her, and she'd fall down at his feet.

She remembered when she had first met Bob. It was at his and Marilyn's wedding party. He was wearing a tuxedo and white carnation and looked like a movie star. Linda wondered about that. She knew that any man who'd go to the bother of renting a tuxedo to attend a party was absolutely irresistible. Something about a tuxedo made any woman's blood run hot, and any man who'd wear one was bound to make out like a bandit-no matter what he looked like.

Then she looked at Bob again. He really wasn't so good-looking, but the memory of him in the formal suit would always stay with her. What a night that was! Everybody had gotten a bit drunk and there was quite a bit of kissing going on as the party wore on. She remembered Bob's kiss.

They were in the bedroom and she was lying on the bed, her head spinning like a lathe from all the champagne. It was only California champagne, but it tasted great and had really bombed everybody out. Her head was hazy, and suddenly the door opened. It was Bob. He was looking for the bathroom. He had just stood beside the bed, smiling. Then he had leaned down quickly and kissed her on the mouth-their tongues meeting. The very thought of French-kissing with Bob made her hands tremble. How awful to neck with your brother-in-law! But she knew lots of women who did that, and she knew plenty who even slept with their brothers-in-law. But he still turned her on.

There was the time she'd never told anybody about. She even blushed when she thought about it. Bob's younger brother, Bruce, was visiting from Tacoma. Lou was hunting that weekend. Bruce had dropped over, hoping to find Lou so they could go out and sight-in Bruce's new high-powered rifle.

Bruce played football for his college and was young, strong and handsome. And he just loved beer. They'd spent the whole afternoon drinking Olympia and Coors, and by five o'clock they were both silly, lying on the living-room floor and watching the Wide World of Sports on TV. She was only twenty-two then, three long years ago. Bruce was only twenty but he was mature and had a good sense of humor.

They'd laughed and joked about everything. Linda was so happy to have company because she was thirty miles from the next place-old Trowbridge's spread. It didn't occur to her what she was doing. She thought Bruce would leave at nine or ten. But they kept on drinking beer, lying there on the living-room floor. And they watched television. For a while. Then they only pretended to watch television and started watching each other. Bruce had the same eyes as Bob and the same confident smile. Right then he looked like the most handsome man in the world.

She remembered saying something funny and he laughed and mussed her hair. That's how it all started, so innocently. He just mussed her hair, but the contact was electric. Then they both stopped laughing and just stared at each other. There wasn't a hint of humor or jest about the look. And Bruce's hand was still in her hair.

He crawled up beside her and kissed her passionately, pulling her eager body to his. She couldn't breathe, she was so hot, and her hands went inside his shirt and madly grasped at and clutched his smooth body. She remembered his hand moving up her leg from her knee, and she thought she was going to die when he touched her pussy. He was so gentle, yet so confident.

His hand touched her pussy; then his fingers sneaked under the elastic band of her panties and touched her again. They were soft, slow and gentle and sent fire shooting through her ready body when they touched her clitoris. He knew it and started to rub the little button. She remembered' how she writhed, how she had to kiss him, hold him, suck his fingers into her hot and ready cunt. Nothing mattered then but a man, a prick, a fuck.

She was wearing a cotton dress-an inexpensive thing she wore to clean the house. And Bruce was having trouble with it. Everything was so slow, so frustrating. She needed him, had to have him, but she wanted to be fucked hard, punished, raped and treated brutally. She had to have all of him. "Tear it off!" she cried. She'd never been so hot in her life and she'd been married almost three years.

Bruce tore the dress off and also tore the brassiere. He was beside himself with passion and drunk on beer. But she had asked for it and he was prepared to help her out. Now he had her on the floor, completely naked, and his hands flew over her body ... touching, probing, squeezing and clutching. Her body was smooth and firm, unblemished and vibrant. Her tits were perfect-smooth mounds crested with pink nipples.

He had to taste her tits, and his face fell onto the two full mounds, his mouth sucking hungrily. She responded by tangling her hands in his hair and pulling him toward her-pulling him down so he could be more brutal, more sensual, more satisfying.

Bruce was mad with lust, and his cock was jumping furiously. The thought of screwing his older brother's friend's wife was so good, so exciting. He'd had his eye on her for a long time and, deep down inside, he really wanted to have her. But it never occurred to him that she'd go for the idea. And he had no idea she was so wild and lusty. She wanted it badly and she wanted it any way he wanted to give it to her. She was, he thought, the perfect whore-a wife who was sexy as hell and who wanted to be fucked good and proper. And Bruce smiled grimly: he was her boy!

But Bruce couldn't believe what she was doing to him. She had one hand in the crack of his ass, knifing it up and down, while she thrust back and forth on his prick with her other hand. Then, unable to control herself any longer, she moved down, taking his cock and balls in both hands, and as he watched, began to kiss and lick them. Satisfied, she jammed his cock into her mouth and moved her body up so that her cunt was right next to his face.

Bruce knew what she wanted, and he moved slowly toward her. Her pussy was beautiful and it smelled clean-like freshly washed wilderness sex. Fair's fair, he thought, and touched the smooth lips of her luscious twat with his tongue. Yes, he thought, it is good, and his hands went around her ass and he pulled her strongly against his face and jammed his tongue far up into her pussy as he jerked and twitched at what she was doing with his cock.

His finger found her asshole and his belly pressed against her firm tits. She was a past-master at sucking cocks, he thought, and he started massaging her growing clitoris with his lips and tongue. It was a hot connection, in two ways, and Bruce smiled to himself: sixty-nine is really fifty-fifty!

He tried to get away from her as his climax started building, but she held him tight, thrusting her pussy more firmly against his face as she squirmed. And he knew what she wanted. Bruce had never come in a girl's mouth before and he started to get uptight, but she gnawed and nibbled at the same time she jacked him off, so he couldn't help it-the gush just came, and it came with a fury.

And hers matched his. She was milking his balls and slamming up against him. Then she exploded and wrapped her legs around his head and pulled him down with all her strength. They had two crashing orgasms, and Bruce liked it. It was the first time he'd ever been involved in something like that: two people fucking with their mouths!

By Sunday afternoon they were both beat. In a day and a half she'd had more orgasms than she'd had in her life. And Bruce couldn't believe how he could get erection after erection. She was having three or four orgasms to his one, he thought, and he'd had about thirty or so. His prick was good and sore by the time he jumped into his pickup truck and left.

Now Linda sat, her eyes dazed, looking at Bob while the others talked about insurance and Florida. She didn't really give a darn about Florida or insurance-she was horny. The recollection of what she and Bruce had done that Saturday and Sunday had turned her on and there was an itch in her pussy.

An hour later Lou and Marilyn, his sister, were sitting in the lobby talking with Ellen Speakman. They couldn't believe how good she looked after just two days in Miami. She told them it was the sun and short vacation, but they thought there was something about her eyes and the way she was smiling. She looked very good as she opened a small briefcase and pulled out some information about a policy. Both Bob and Linda had gone out for a swim. Marilyn was going to explain everything to Bob. And Ellen didn't care.

The sun was high and the waves were small out on the beach. And Bob and Linda were both standing in water that was up to their chins. Linda had never been in the ocean before and she was a bit afraid, especially when the waves would come in and she'd have to jump up to keep from being covered. They were alone in the water but the beach was crowded with people with red backs.

"Gosh, Bob," she said, "this is scary, isn't it?"

"Naw. It's just the ocean. Nothing to worry about."

"Aren't there any sharks or fish or something that bites?"

"Here? Are you kidding? There're no sharks this far in."

"You're sure?"

Bob had been watching Linda closely. She was a good-looking dish, and the bikini she was wearing showed almost everything she had. It crossed Bob's mind that she'd been kind of funny lately, touching him and looking at him with a far-away look in her eyes, and he decided to have some fun with her.

"Well, of course there're sharks and barracudas and other stuff, but they don't usually attack. They've lost only a few tourists to sharks here in the past year. Nothing to worry about as long as you stick close...."

Her eyes were wide and she forgot to look at the wave behind her. It completely covered her just as she was breathing in, and she drank half of the Atlantic and was knocked over, plowing into Bob.

His hands automatically reached out to grab her and, by accident, found her tits. But she was struggling against the water and not against him, so he left them there. After all, who was going to see? But he didn't know what he was in for. As he held her, her flailing hands found his cock, inside his bathing suit. Right there in the Atlantic she was jacking him off as she choked. And he was feeling one of her tits with one hand and pounding her back with his other. Then, at last, she stopped coughing and Bob's hand slipped down into the back of her bathing suit.

"Bob," Linda said, her hand pumping up and down on his ready cock, "we shouldn't. Not here."

"Why not?"

"What if somebody sees?"

"Let 'em see. So what? Besides, you're the one who's...."

She blushed but continued pumping his cock slowly with a maddening rhythm. And he continued massaging one of her large and firm tits while his other hand felt the smooth globes of her ass. Her eyes were sparkling and she was, at that moment, one of the most beautiful women Bob had ever seen, even with her short hair plastered to her head with sea water. She had the look of a woman in love-or a woman on the make. That certain look was in her eyes-that look that's so hard to misunderstand. Any man can recognize the look, and Bob did. He increased his activity, bringing his hand under her bottom and putting his finger into her wet twat.

"Oooohhh, Bob," she groaned. "We have to go somewhere...."

He knew it and stopped playing with her to move away. Walking across the belt of white sand where everybody could easily see his monster hard-on would hardly be the thing to do.

Fifteen minutes later he was at the desk asking for another room, explaining it was only for two days. When the desk clerk looked puzzled, Bob explained he and his wife were having a small spat and he wanted to spend some time by himself. The desk clerk smiled: he understood. He'd seen Bob come in with the other member of their party and everything was clear to him. He rented another room.

While they took the elevator to their new room, Bob was buzzing with anticipation and he couldn't keep his prick down. Then they were alone in the room.

Linda walked to the window, feeling like a whore. What could she do? Lou was pretty cold and didn't satisfy her. He was too busy with his work and hunting even to notice her. She didn't know if she liked to be fucked or not, but she did know she had to be fucked. She needed it, at least once in a while. And it had been almost a month now. She studiously avoided glancing at Bob.

Bob circled her with his hands, his prick bulging out.

"I think old Lou is stuck on Speakman," he said, shaking his head.

Linda nodded without looking up. "He doesn't have a thing on me-I'm stuck on you, Bob. And I'm sorry-it's so wrong...."

"It's not wrong-it's natural. I've seen the way he's been avoiding you. After all, you are a human being-you are normal. All normal women need a little every now and then."

Bob turned her away from the window and aimed her at the large bed, but neither of them made a move to climb in. He wanted to go to bed badly enough, and he inwardly cursed himself for not trying to release her from her feelings of wrong-doing. But it was her problem and she'd have to work it out for herself. And he had a sneaking hunch that Lou and Marilyn probably were fucking. Was that strange? A brother-and-sister act? Bob frowned and thought about the time he'd got his wife good and drunk and she'd told him everything about it. It was undoubtedly the roughest thing he'd ever heard in his life. Yeah, he thought, III tell Linda. That'll warm her up.

They walked slowly to the bed. Bob was the picture of a gentleman. He didn't touch her except on the waist. Lightly.

"I guess you think I'm an awful prude," she said.

"No, hell no, Linda. But I think we both got a bum deal."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, it's something that Marilyn told me one night, when she was blasted out of her mind. And Christ, the way she looked when she told me makes me think we're both saddled with a pair of nuts."

"What was it, Bob?" Linda knew it couldn't be worse than that time with Bruce.

"Lou and Marilyn used to ball each other."

A wave of shock crashed through Linda's body and the breath stuck in her lungs. She thought she was going to faint. "No!"

"Yes! They've been fucking each other ever since they were kids. Lou was twelve and Marilyn was nine when he took her cherry."

Linda was breathless and her eyes were wide as she stared at Bob with disbelief. "No!"

"Yes! And, as far as I know, they still dip in now and then."

Suddenly everything was clear to Linda. Now she knew why Lou and Marilyn were so close. She knew why he was so cold, especially when he'd come home from visiting Marilyn, checking up on her when Bob was away. "Bob, how do you know they still do? And don't you care?"

"Well, it should be as plain as the nose on your face that they still ball each other. You might not know this, Linda, but that husband of yours is a real ass bandit. A real hustler."

"That bastard!" she sneered. She thought about all the nights she'd gone to sleep alone and unsatisfied. He'd come to bed at one or two and had turned away from her. And, too, he always smelled so good and fresh after coming home late-just like he'd had a shower.

Her hands were clenching and unclenching as she stared at nothing. She was furious. "Will you tell me everything about it?"

Bob knew it was the right thing to do, even if it did blast two marriages. After all, he wasn't the one who'd fucked his sister. He didn't have a sister. Just a brother. And they'd never done anything. It was a bad thing to do. "Sure," he said.

Bob took a deep breath and exhaled with a heavy sigh. His hand moved to Linda's thigh and he began to talk.

"Their real father died when they were young, you know. Then Hilda married this Horace fellow and the two of them started traveling quite a bit. This left the kids alone, and Lou baby-sat."

"Some baby-sitter!" Linda snorted. She was mad. The thought of her husband actually fucking his little sister was chilling her blood and she thought she was going to scream. How could two people do something like that? It was incestuous! A strange tingle was creeping through her body. The thought of something like that was awful, horrendous, unspeakable-unthinkable! She was becoming sexy just thinking about it.

"Yeah. Well, they didn't start in on it for some time, of course. But one weekend when the old folks were in Vancouver, he and Marilyn were playing hide and seek. It was late and he'd turned out the lights in most of the house. He was hiding and Marilyn had to find him...."

"Oh, God! Where did he hide?"

"Well, according to Marilyn, he was in their parents' closet. She found him and he scared her; then he dragged her into the closet and closed the door. The first thing she knew her panties were off and he'd stuck his finger into her pussy."

"How terrible!"

"That's for sure! But what happened next was even worse. He tied her to the bed, nude. And he had her spread-eagled on her back. She was crying, she said, afraid of what she was in for, but he only laughed and tortured her by tickling her feet until she'd jerked so hard there were red welts on her wrists and ankles."

"What a fiend! I'm married to something like that?"

"You sure are! Well, anyway, he had this little prick sticking out and he made her suck him off, and, according to her, he blew off into her mouth two or three times. And she was nine, mind you!"

"Oh, God! I can't bear to listen to more! What happened then?" The little tingle was becoming a raging fire as she listened. The thought of a young brother tying his little sister to the bed and making her suck his cock while their parents were out of the country was just too awful.

"After she sucked him off he made her play with his cock until it was hard and, for a twelve-year-old, that ain't a very long time. When he was hard again he knelt between her legs and opened her little cunt with his fingers. It was hairless, of course, and fresh and pink. He lapped it until she was begging for him to stop. She was going crazy."

"And then...?"

"Then he put his cock against her tight little pussy and slowly pushed it in. She was crying like mad, and the more she cried the harder he pushed. He jammed it all the way up into her little belly and broke her cherry. She bled like a stuck pig and she said it hurt like hell."

"I can imagine...."

"But the funny thing is this: she started to like it! They were alone for three days after that and, according to her, they fucked like a pair of minks. She told me she just couldn't get enough, and she'd jam stuff into her pussy whenever Lou wasn't around. But Lou evidently took good care of her for the next few years. She never squealed on him. Except to me, and then she was drunk."

"God, how can you live with it? Didn't you get mad?"

"Hell, yes, I got mad! And I screwed the living daylights out of her. That's one thing about Marilyn-she's a real maniac in the sack. She just can't seem to get enough."

"Then she's just the opposite of Lou."

"Don't you believe it! He's the ass bandit of all time. And men can only spread themselves so thin. He's probably too screwed out to please you." Bob's prick was now standing straight up in his swimming trunks, tenting the material. He didn't even blush when he put Linda's hand on it.

"Now," she exploded. "Take them off, NOW! I have to have you!"

She pulled at the drawstring of his trunks and started to pull the still-damp garment down. She had to have him-she had to make up for her husband's sins and she had to fuck.

Bob stood and removed his shorts, then sat on the bed again. His hands were untying the back of Linda's bikini top and he was breathing heavily as he felt her hair in his lap. Then a shock went through his system as she began to kiss his stiff prick.

She kissed the entire shaft of his cock slowly and lovingly, then made an oval with her lips and took his whole cock into her mouth. She took the head into her throat and nibbled on the base of the shaft, right by his balls and belly. His hands coursed over her body and he removed her bikini bottom. Her smooth white ass was now exposed and he spread the cheeks and bent down, covering the crack with his face.

Linda was imagining she was Marilyn-nine years old, being raped by her big brother. She sucked the cock into hardness that was almost unimaginable and felt Bob's exploring tongue by her asshole. She wanted that, liked it and hoped he would go in.

And he did. Bob's tongue rolled into a spear and shot into her tight asshole while he fondled and massaged her tits. She was driving him crazy as she sucked his cock. But he didn't want to come in her mouth. He wanted to fuck her in the asshole. He thought she might object, but he wanted to do it anyway, so he pulled away.

"What's the matter?" she groaned.

"Lie on your stomach, Linda, will you?"

Oh, God, Linda thought, stretching out on her belly, he's going to stick me in the ass! Bruce was the only other man who'd ever done that and it had felt strange, but good. Now she was going to have it again.

"If you're going to do that, Bob, could I sit in your lap, facing you? I think that would be nice."

Bob's prick leaped at the suggestion. He got onto his back and Linda crawled over him and poised herself above his rigid cock. He watched as she lowered herself down and guided the tip to the snug opening. It was all wet and she jiggled her butt a bit as she forced herself down. Then he felt the head pop in. Oh, God, he thought, a corn-hole. Man, do I love to fuck chicks in the bunghole! Bob watched intently as his buddy's wife lowered herself down on his cock. Imagine plugging her in the shitter! It was too much! She was so tight it almost hurt and he looked at her face. Small beads of sweat had sprung out on her forehead and upper lip and her eyes were shut.

Now! he thought, and thrust up. Linda hadn't expected it, and her eyes opened wide. His cock was halfway in. She looked down at him and, with an answering lunge of her own, she jammed down all the way, taking the whole of his cock into her rectum. She smiled, Then she started a slow, rhythmic up-and-down movement on his cock and Bob sat up. Linda's legs moved out so they were over his, her feet behind him. He was stuck all the way inside her, and his hands reached out and began to fondle her tits. The nipples were still shriveled up from the cold ocean water and they stood out like pink tips on two little fingers. The tits were cold, white and firm and Bob thought they were perfect. It seemed to him he had a crazy new playmate.

Suddenly Linda fell back, so that she was lying on her back on Bob's legs. His prick, jammed into her asshole, pushed upward against the thin membrane between her rectum and pussy and she was in a state of agony and delight. He started thrusting in and out of her asshole and leaned forward to massage her tits as he did.

His orgasm came entirely too soon to suit him, and he shot off a gush of hot, sticky cum that almost made Linda faint. It was good-there's nothing like fucking a tight ass!

Bob and Linda spent the entire morning fucking and kissing. She was out of her mind ... like a child with a great new toy. And she just couldn't get enough of him, no matter what. But they had to stop at noon. Both of them were exhausted.

Linda had looked closely at Bob all the while. She was wondering if she should tell him about what she and Bruce had done, but she decided not to. May as well leave well enough alone, she thought.