Chapter 10

"Well, big brother, when is the orgy coming off?" Wendy had sneaked into Ricky's bedroom before he was awake and was kneeling on his bed dressed in the briefest of hot pants and a long shirt with tails. The latter was open halfway down the front and she had positioned herself so that the first thing Ricky saw when he opened his eyes were her pert, young breasts with their erect red nipples.

"What orgy? What are you talking about?" Ricky asked, raising his eyes to her face and willing himself not to look at the rest of her.

"The Alix Harper orgy . . . the one where we make Teach put out for both of us," Wendy said, sitting back on her heels and pulling the long-tailed shirt up around her middle. Her pants were so short that dark, curling hairs escaped from the inner edges and showed plainly on the white skin.

Ricky pulled the sheet up over his head and sighed, wishing she'd go away and leave him alone. He hadn't had a woman since the fiasco with Alix, and he didn't need Wendy playing games and talking about orgies. When Alix had walked away from him on the beach, he had sworn he was going to force the issue with her, but somehow he hadn't gotten around to it despite several telephone calls from Tess asking when he was going to produce the swinging affair he'd promised her.

"What are you hiding from?" Wendy giggled and crawled under the sheet to stretch out beside him.

"Hey, get out of here!" Ricky yelped. "Suppose Sheila walked in!"

"She won't," Wendy said, rolling against him and pressing her breasts into his bare back. "You know she sleeps late on Saturday. What are you so uptight about? Seems to me you're turning into an awful prude."

"Yeah?" Ricky said, turning on his back and pushing her away. "Is that why everyone comes to me when they want to arrange an orgy?"

"Correction," Wendy said. "You were the one who suggested an orgy, but now you keep putting it off. I want to know why."

"I've been busy. Other things have come up," Ricky said, moving again to get away from the touch of her hard little breasts against his arm.

"Uh huh. Well, let's see just what has come up," Wendy giggled and laid a hand on the front of his shorts to fondle his partially aroused cock.

Ricky jumped and swatted at her hand. "Stop that! Qo on back to your own room and I'll talk to you later."

"No, you've put this off long enough," Wendy said, closing her hand tightly around the swelling organ. "You've got a great cock and I want it. You can fuck me first and then we'll rap about the orgy."

"God damn it, no! Fucking your own sister is a dumb thing hillbillies and people like that do, not intelligent, sophisticated people."

"Yeah? Well, what do you call Caesar Borgia and kings and people like that? He fucked his sister. In fact, he shared her with their father. And the pharaohs of Egypt even married their sisters. Cleopatra married her little brother. I'll bet that was a groovy twosome."

"Where'd you dig up all that crap?"

"In a book about sexy history," Wendy said, squirming around on the bed but not letting go of his prick for one second. "A lot of those old-timers were real swingers, you know."

"Don't you ever think about anything but sex?" Ricky growled, gritting his teeth to keep from moaning as her hand moved up and down his now-stiff dong.

"You told me it was the only thing worth thinking about," the girl said, wriggling some more.

"Yeah, me and my big mouth. I've done too much rapping with everybody."

"Too much rapping and not enough fucking," Wendy said and rolled over on top of him. It was obvious what all the wriggling had been about now. She had been taking off her hot pants and bunching her shirt up around her armpits so that her whole body was bare as she flung herself across him.

"This is called 'What To Do Until The Orgy Starts,' " she panted, rubbing the furry muff between her thighs onto his engorged genitals. "And this is what I'm going to do to that stuck-up redhead when you finally get around to setting it up for me."

"Stop talking about that," Ricky said hoarsely. "It might never happen."

Wendy braced herself with her hands on his shoulders and looked down at him. "Then what are you going to do about the money Tess gave you to arrange the group-grope? Give it back?"

"How do you know about it?" Ricky asked, trying to roll out from under her as she lifted a little and used one hand to pull his shorts down. He gave up when his dong bounced free and snapped against her hard young belly.

"I answered the phone when Tess called, and we had a chat and discovered a mutual interest in Alix Harper and an orgy. You gonna give the money back?"

"I can't. I spent part of it on a new camera," Ricky said and felt her guiding his throbbing prick into the dark fuzz that covered her tight, girlish slit.

She leaned forward and kissed his chin, his eyes and the sides of his lips. "I've been wanting to do this ever since I was eight years old. Fuck me, brother."

Ricky's whole body was on fire. There was no room for reason in a brain consumed by lust. It was good only for communicating the message from his senses that a warm, sex-hungry female body was locked with his, demanding the service of his manhood.

The tight, wet pussy pushed against his shaft. He could feel the narrow labia flatten under the pressure, and the sopping wetness spread onto his flesh.

"God, you're wet!" he mumbled.

"All ready for your big, sweet cock," she said, teasing the head of his spike by rubbing her pussy in circles over it. "You dig that? Won't that tight cunny really burn your balls?"

"Shut up and fuck!" he grated and reared upward into the narrow sheath.

"Whoooomph!" Wendy grunted as he penetrated three or four inches into her. "Man, you really stretch a gal!"

"I'll split you wide open if you don't stop cackling and ball! Sheila won't sleep all day, you know," he said, driving upward again to force his prick as far as it could go into the girlish grotto.

"Ohhh, that feels so goooddd!" Wendy raised straight up and rocked on the fleshy tower, her eyes closed and her mouth slack.

Ricky began to roll his hips, conscious of the rapturous tightness and the exquisite friction as Wendy cooperated with wild abandon. Throwing herself forward against him, she slammed back wantonly as he rammed into her resolutely, screwing clear to the limits of her hot little quim with short, rapid strokes.

"Ahh, I like that. It's trying to push right on through me," Wendy gasped, helping him settle into a more powerful rhythm.

The hardness of his distended rod dragged at Wendy's yielding cunt, tugging against the highly responsive flesh and rubbing the excitable clitoris into throbbing ecstasy. Revolving her hips, she ground the ruby inner flesh against his sensitive lance, her clutching quim returning every solid thrust of her brother's tool. Ricky could feel it stretching then squashing, sucking and sighing, making droooling noises and oozing excess juice.

Ricky drove into her harder. Time after time his thick prick flattened the soft little labia and drove into the simmering channel of lust, and time after time his sister let out a delighted squeal as he thumped against the end of her quaking nave, lifting her upward with the force of his thrust.

Wendy couldn't get enough of that flogging prick. Her whole little body flopped and heaved with the torrent of passion she was unleashing. Her vagina felt like a ball of fire to Ricky as she clung to him desperately and returned every straining stroke. She was sobbing with ecstasy, completely wanton and beyond control.

"God, I love to fuck!" she gasped once, her eyes dilated and her hair whipping about her face. "If there weren't lovely big cocks in the world, it wouldn't be worthwhile growing up."

Ricky grabbed his sister's little round bottom and held her steady while he slammed up into her. His fingers kneaded the taut ovals and Wendy responded with frantic surges of torrid movement that pushed his penis deeper until belly pounded against belly in a mad race to completion.

She opened her mouth to scream and Ricky got a hand over it just in time, jamming the heel of it into the yawning maw and feeling the sharp white teeth bite down on it as her vaginal muscles spasmed and a flood of warm moistness bathed his still-plunging prick. Almost immediately, his own seething load spurted and filled her impaled cunt with what seemed like an endless flow.

Wendy clutched her brother tightly, sighing and moaning in the joy of fulfillment. She rocked a little and mumbled incoherently for a few minutes, then sat up and pushed her hair out of her eyes. "Now let's get back to planning that orgy."

Before Ricky could answer, they heard a door slam and the tapping of high heels in the hallway.

"My God, it's Sheila!" Ricky whispered. "What do we do now?"

Wendy was off him like a flash, racing toward the big armchair near the window. She pulled down the shirt as she ran, flopped into the chair and quickly arranged the tails so they covered her naked pubes.

There was a knock at the door and Ricky yanked the sheet up to his chin and rolled his face into the pillow to wipe the sweat off it. There was another brief tap and the door opened and Sheila looked in.

"Ricky, I'm looking for Wendy. Have you ..." She stopped short and stared at her daughter. "What are you doing in here, young lady?"

"Rapping," Wendy said calmly.

Sheila looked from one to the other of them suspiciously. "At this time of morning?"

"Sure, we got a lot to rap about," Ricky said. "Like a mother who doesn't know what the hell she's doing."

"That'll be enough!" Sheila said sharply. "I don't want to hear any more about it! I told you my decision, and that's final!"

"Not for me it isn't," Ricky said. "I'll do everything I can to keep you from marrying that two-bit shit!"

Sheila's face turned scarlet, but she took a deep breath and managed to keep her voice level. "You'll do nothing. I'm going to marry Baxter Shaver whether you like it or not."

Ricky snorted in disgust and turned on his side so his back was to her. The movement pulled the sheet off his bare shoulder and Sheila's eyes showed suspicion again.

"Don't you have any clothes on, young man?" she demanded angrily.

"Of course I have clothes on," Ricky said, turning back to grin at her. "I always wear a tuxedo and my diving fins to bed."

"Don't be such a smart-aleck," Sheila said. "You're a bad influence on your sister, and I don't think a boy your age should encourage the child to visit in the bedroom where you're lying around naked."

"You want me to show you what clothes I have on, Mother?" he said, reaching for the edge of the sheet. "Shall I get up and let you see for yourself?"

"No . . . no, that won't be necessary," Sheila said hurriedly. "It's just that I don't think Wendy should be in here alone with you. I can't trust you after what..."

"Are you afraid of your oversexed brother, Wendy?" Ricky asked.

"What's sex?" Wendy asked, opening her eyes wide.

"All right, that's enough out of you two," Sheila said. "What I came in to tell you is that I'm going out and ..."

"With Shaver?" Ricky demanded belligerently. "If so, tell him I said he'd better start looking for a wife someplace else because he hasn't got the chance of an ice cream cone in the Sahara of ever getting you."

Sheila glared at him, turned on her heel and stalked out of the room, leaving the door thrown wide open.

Wendy grinned at Ricky as they listened to Sheila's retreating footsteps. "That's what I call leaving the door open after the pussy's been pricked," she said and then turned serious. "How can you stop Sheila from marrying Shaver?"

"I've thought about killing him," Ricky said, but his mind was on something else. For the first time since his fixation on his mother had started, he had been able to watch the provocative swing of Sheila's round buttocks without getting a hard-on. That could possibly be accounted for by the fact that he'd just been fucked but that had never made any difference before. No, there must be some other reason, something that was causing his sexual hangup on Sheila to weaken.

"Killing him isn't very practical," Wendy said. "Maybe a thing I heard will inspire you to find a good way to break up that pair."

"What did you hear?"

"That there's reason to believe Sheila is sacrificing her beautiful bod to save Ron Graves."

"What? Save him from what? Who told you this?" Ricky asked, pulling his shorts up and reaching for his pants.

"I was talking to Ron yesterday," Wendy said. "He was a little sauced and feeling sorry for himself, and he said Sheila is going to marry Shaver to keep him-Ron, that is-from going to jail."

Ricky's eyebrows shot upward. "Jail? What has he done, and what's Shaver got to do with it?"

"Well, it seems like old Baxter, in addition to being our revered principal at Point Storm High . . . rah! rah! rah! ... is also on the board of directors at the bank. You know how he likes to throw his weight around, and he's using his position to demand a special audit of the real estate loan department. And that's where our Ron comes into the picture. He's been okaying a lot of loans lately, spreading the bank's bread around in a good cause, you might say, lending it to people and groups who aren't exactly loaded down with collateral. Ron's version is that this is the sort of creative banking needed to aid minorities and the poor, but he also admits that it breaks the prime rule of bankers: Lend money only to people who don't need to borrow. If there is an audit right now, it will look as though Ron has been playing fast and loose with the bank's money. Later when some of the money has been repaid and the borrowers established as good credit risks, Ron will not only look like a good banker but a public-spirited citizen as well. It's all a matter of timing, and he desperately needs time."

"And Sheila knows all this?"

"Right. They had a heavy rap about it, Ron says, and shortly afterwards Sheila started dating Shaver. After the first date, and presumably the first dalliance with our beautiful mother, the shitty bastard eased up on his demands. Ron says he'd rather go to jail than let Sheila sell herself that way, but..."

"He won't have to," Ricky said. "I'll fix Shaver's wagon for good."

"You've said that before," Wendy told him. "In fact, you've said it so often that it's beginning to sound like a campaign promise."

Ricky ignored her. "Tess ..." he said slowly, "Tess is the key to it all."

"You're not thinking of hitting her for another couple of hundred to pay the bank back, are you? It would take closer to a couple million."

Ricky gestured impatiently. "Not her money. Tess herself. If she were in New York and heard of a new sex kick in Timbuktu, she'd be on the first plane out to give it a whirl. I'll bet she might even consider sex with Baxter Shaver a kick. You know, like some perverts dig making it with cripples or hunchbacks."

"Yeah, she might, but you're forgetting one thing. Tess isn't exactly in the mood to do anything for you," Wendy said. "A week or so ago, you could have suggested that she fuck a monkey's uncle on top of the Washington Monument and she'd probably have just asked whether it should be doggie-fashion or missionary position before she hopped right to it. But now she's been waiting around for this orgy you promised and, to put it mildly, she's a little irked with her boy lover."

"Yeah, I know. She was uptight when I talked to her last night, but we've got to get her on our side. We need her to trap old Shaver into a compromising situation so we can get pictures to counter-blackmail him and also so Sheila can walk in and find them together. Tess is the only one who could bring it off right."

"What's the matter with me? I'm not exactly loathsome, you know," Wendy said. "There are some dudes I know who would eat my shit to get at my ass."

"Don't be so damn vulgar," Ricky said, "and anyway, Shaver wouldn't fall for that. He knows what we think of him and would be sure it was a trap. But he doesn't know about Tess and if she offered, he'd fall all over himself accepting."

"But she's not offering! I don't think you get it, Ricky. Your name with Tess right now is shit!"

"Maybe, but I'll fix it up. She'll come around," Ricky said confidently.

"No way!" his sister said, shaking her head.

"Sure there's a way. Once I get that cock-loving bitch on her back with my old dong in her furry pussy, she'll do anything I ask her to."

Wendy shook her head again. "You're not going to get her in that position. Not all by yourself anyway."

Ricky swung around to face her as he pulled a knit shirt over his head. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"No orgy, no fuckie. Tess is holding out for the group-grope. She told me so."

Ricky's eyes narrowed. "She's holding out for it, or you're trying to promote it?"

Wendy shrugged. "All I did was show her that picture of Alix all spread out with Miss Whitney's tongue in her, and she flipped."

"Damn you, where did you get that?" Ricky yanked open a dresser drawer and took out the prints he'd made, rifling through them to see if one was missing.

"I took it because I dug it," Wendy said. "That redhead has got everything, and it comes through for women as well as men. Tess wants her as bad as I do, and she won't cooperate on the Shaver business without getting Alix first. Now ... do we have an orgy, or do we let Sheila marry Shithead Shaver?"

Ricky shuffled through the pictures again, the old lust for Alix returning in full force but any tenderness he might have felt drowned in hurt and bitterness at the memory of how she had walked out on him after he had told her he loved her and meant it for the first time in his life.

"Yeah, she's got it coming," he said, picking up a jacket and slipping the pictures into a pocket. "Damn, stuck-up bitch! What are we waiting for? Now's as good a time as any, and Alix's apartment is as good a place as any. Let's go get Tess and lay our cards on the table for Alix and tell her what we want."