Chapter 4
The next morning when I woke up I was all alone in the apartment. The rock musicians had long since gone, and Sandy was at school. It was hard to believe that such a far-out girl would indulge in something as mundane as high school, but Lori and Sandy had to go along with it to keep the authorities out of their hair.
Realizing that such privacy presented me with a perfect opportunity to check in with Lori, I went to the phone and called home.
"Hello, Crane residence," the voice at the other end of the line said. It was just like listening to a tape of myself answering the phone.
"Lori," I whispered, even though there was no one around to overhear me.
"Oh, hi, Ruth," she replied with no attempt to lower her voice. "What's happening?"
"Are ... are you by yourself?" I continued to play it safe.
"Sure," she said. "Rick's at work, and Nancy and Tommy are at school. What about Sandy?" "She's at school."
"Good ... good. You must be a good influence on her. She's been cutting a lot lately."
This small-talk was making me nervous. The only thing I wanted to know was what had gone on between Lori and my family last night.
"How ... how are you getting along?" I tried to short-circuit the chit-chat.
"Groovy!" she bubbled.
"Uh, really, what happened? Did you and Rick--" "Did we fuck?" she bluntly interrupted.
"Well, did you?" I forced myself to verbally confront the bottom line.
"What do you think, Sis?" she teased me.
What I thought stunned me into silence. I was no big fan of Rick's lovemaking, but the idea of his actually doing it with somebody else chilled me to the bone.
"Ah, ah," Lori taunted, "I can hear you panting over the phone. You'll get germs all over the receiver."
"Well, did you?" I suddenly blurted. "Did you fuck my husband?" "No," was the astonishing answer. Now my feelings abruptly swung the other way.
With her denial I immediately felt embarrassed that the man I had been screwing for sixteen years wasn't good enough for Lori.
"Why not?" I blurted again.
"He was tired after a hard day at the office," she sighed.
It was such a familiar line that I couldn't help believing her. Even with a laughable six-inch cock as his main weapon, Rick was as stingy with his sex as a woman going through menopause. He always had a headache or something.
"Then what'd you do?" I asked with cautious relief. "Watch television? Read a book?"
"Well, I tried reading one of your Harlequin Romances, as a matter of fact," Lori laughed. "But by the time I got to the thirtieth page and there was still nothing dirty, I put it down and went outside."
"Where'd you go?"
"Your next-door neighbor was having a barbecue. He saw me on the sidewalk and invited me up."
"Bob Thornton?"
"Yeah, that was his name. Bob Thornton." Lori let the name roll off her tongue like it was a fond memory. "He wasn't a bad dude for a square."
"Where was his wife?" I began blurting again.
"Drunk as a skunk."
That would figure. Eva Thornton had had a drinking problem for as long as I could remember.
Nobody talked about it in the polite suburbs, of course, but the fact was there as big as life. At a party any woman who wanted to could snatch Bob for the evening because it was a cinch his wife would be unconscious by ten.
Bob had come on strong to me several times, but I had always resisted. Despite the fact that he was a handsome hunk of man-and my husband increasingly seemed like a boring jerk to me-I just couldn't bring myself to have an affair with him nor anyone else. When I took my marriage vows I'd convinced myself that I'd sowed the last of my wild oats in high school.
Lori, of course, had no such compunctions. When she'd discovered Bob grilling two steaks for himself, she'd gotten herself invited to dinner just like that. There was a bulge in Bob's crotch even before he served the meat.
The steaks were half-eaten when Lori decided that it was too hot for the sweater she was wearing. "Do you mind if I take it off?" she asked Bob.
"Depends on what you've got on underneath it," he laughed.
"Nothing," she said with a straight face. "Absolutely nothing."
He dropped his fork.
Wasting no time, she slid the sweater over her head and threw it on the grass. Her bare tits were bobbing up and down like a pair of ripe melons.
"Still eating your steak, Bob," she cooed, "or are you interested in another course?"
"As long as it's meat," he leered.
"What are you waiting for, then?" She invited him to her naked chest by cupping her breasts in her hands and thrusting them toward his face.
He abruptly leaped onto the table. With his knee gouging into his forgotten steak, he began to suck Lori's ample tits.
Thinking they were mine.
"Ruth, why haven't we ever made it before?" Bob asked in the midst of his nipple chomping. "I've had my eye on you for years."
Lori didn't answer with words, thus avoiding a faux pas. Instead she. went right to where Bob lived by unzipping his pants. Once she started stroking his hard-on she didn't have to be accountable for the past in light of the present.
"Oh, baby," he moaned, "I want to fuck you right here on the patio table."
Their clothes were off within moments and Lori was spread-eagled across the slats. Her cunt was practically boiling with desire, as she curiously awaited her first suburban fuck in five years.
As long as Bob Thornton had lived next door I had secretly wondered how big his cock was. To tell the truth I wondered about virtually every man's considering the unsatisfactory length of my husband's.
Now, as Lori told her story, I learned that it was the monster about which I'd periodically fantasized.
"It was in so far it felt like the head was rubbing against my spine," was the way Lori put it.
Yes, he humped her to the hilt on the picnic table, thinking all the while that he was socking it to me. She couldn't stop praising him on the size of his tool, and begging him to fuck her harder and harder.
"Come, come!" she could no longer contain her lusty impatience. "Come, you bastard!"
The table was rocking on the grass. Bob's hard-on was blasting deeper and deeper. Both he and Lori were making sounds like nocturnal animals in mating season.
The cum suddenly exploded from his cock in a powerful jet. Lori could instantly feel her insides dripping with it. It only made her want more.
"How are you going to be fixed when this is over?" she asked Bob while he was still spurting in her twat.
"Hard as a rock!" he assured her.
"Then start thinking about jazzing me in the ass, big boy," she said as clear as a bell. "I want to feel that huge dick of yours where it's really tight."
They got off the table for this, Lori on all fours like a horny female dog. A bitch in heat.
"Use some of the cum to grease my butt," she instructed my excited next-door neighbor. "I want it in all the way on the first shove."
Taking a big glob of his own spunk on the tips of his fingers, Bob obediently smeared all over Lori's puckering anus. It was a hundred times better than any artificially manufactured lubricant.
"Inside," she ordered. "Make the inside of my ass greasy with your jizz."
He poked the two wettest fingers in at once. They slipped in on the first try to their third knuckles.
"Mmmmmm, just think what you can do with your cock," she abandoned her authoritarian facade and moaned.
He parted his fingers, spreading the muscles of Lori's asshole so she would be ready for his immense prick. Eventually he got the size of the anal opening to the diameter of a fifty-cent piece.
Showing astonishing reflexes for a middle-aged man, Bob quickly removed his fingers from Lori's crack and replaced it with his violently thrusting dick. The whole thing happened so fast, she was hardly aware of the transformation until she abruptly sensed she was being torn in two.
"How do you like my cock in your ass, baby?" Bob triumphantly asked. "Ever had one better?"
"A horse once," my sister dead-panned.
"You fucked a horse? My next-door neighbor fucks horses?"
"Only while I was waiting for you to get into my pants, tiger," Lori impersonated me. "Yes, now that I've finally got you, I'm switching from ponies to tigers."
"Oh, Jesus, God," Bob Thornton babbled like a religious fanatic. I feel born again. Where have you been all my life, Ruth?"
"Waiting for you to make the right move, stud," Lori answered.
"How about this one?" he grinned lasciviously, and began twisting his cock like a high-speed drill in my sister's ass. His balls were rolling against the cheeks of her butt like sandbags giving way to a flood.
"I can feel the head of your cock in my shit," she excitedly told him. "Wipe it out! Shoot all the crap out of there with your own cum!"
Bob Thornton was the kind of guy who loved such challenges. Meeting them made him feel like more of a stud, and helped him forget about his uneventful life in the suburbs. The major crop of the middle class was fantasies.
"I'm building it up," he informed Lori of his progress. "My balls are tightening into a knot ... they're ready to burst ... I'm ... I'm . ... " "Yes? Yes?" Lori gasped.
"I'm coming!" he shrieked. "Oh God, Ruth, can't you feel it?"
Lori could. The jizz flooded her bowels, blasting the shit from its moorings. It just wouldn't seem to stop spurting.
Lori would be passing Bob's spunk in her stool for days, but the horny little bitch still wasn't satisfied. When the last of the cum had drenched her ass she started to talk about a blow-job.
"I love the taste of my own shit on my lover's hard-on," she informed the wide-eyed Bob with impossible sexiness. "Won't you give it to me like a good boy?"
Bob's prick had temporarily wilted after it pulled out of Lori's butt. Now, just moments later, it snapped anew to rigid attention. She could play a man's cock as well as anybody.
Even stretched to full erection, Bob's cock was brown with the slippery remnants of my sister's crap. She, of course, regarded his shit-encrusted tool as the same kind of tasty treat a kid would find an ice cream bar.
Her lips passed over the gooey head. Her slurping was louder than the usual din of the crickets.
Lori had taken Bob quickly in the pussy and ass, but now, on the third time around, she was doing things slowly and tantalizingly. This time she wanted him to suffer before he came.
Although it's not her tightest hole, a woman has more control over her mouth than she does any other orifice. She can eagerly gobble a man's hard-on, or suck down at her leisure.
Lori was doing the latter, driving Bob nuts every agonizing inch of the way. She was eating his cock the way you would eat an artichoke, breaking it down little by little.
"Oh, baby," he moaned, "your mouth is even better than your ass or pussy. You really know how to do it, Ruth."
Ruth. Ruth. Yes, me, Ruth. It was Lori sucking the next-door neighbor's cock after a pair of fucks in her lower holes, but it was me Bob Thornton thought he was getting it from. How would I ever handle him when I went home?
"Hey, Sis, is there anything wrong?" Lori interrupted her story. "I can't even hear you breathing on the other end of the line."
"No, no, I'm all right," I lied. "What happened next?"
"I took his prick as gradually as I could-teasing him the whole way," she continued. "It took almost ten minutes before I deep-throated the bastard."
"Did he come again?"
"Wow, did he! More than the other two times. That guy's a geyser."
He'd penetrated the end of his cock all the way down to Lori's abdominal entrance by the time he came. His balls weren't nuzzling her lips but inside them.
Lori stuck her finger in his ass and plunged in at a downward angle.
"Yeeeeooooowwww!" he screamed as the spunk tore loose from his nuts. It was as though his wisdom teeth were being pulled without an anesthetic.
The cum poured into Lori's belly past the point of containment. As much as she wanted to retain every precious drop of jism, she couldn't help herself from regurgitating the excess. It bolted back up her throat, saturating her breathing passages and gushing from the sides of her cock-engorged mouth.
"You know how when we were kids and we used to play around with the oatmeal Mom made us for breakfast?" Lori asked by way of illustrating her condition.
"You mean like when one of us held a mouthful of it and the other one tried to make her laugh?" I recalled a long-forgotten piece of my child.
"Right!" Lori answered. "Well, with all that cum dripping out of my face last night, I looked just like the loser in an oatmeal freeze-out when the winner has just told the world's funniest joke. I thought about you when it was happening, Ruth."
How could she help it, I thought sardonically. After all, she was supposed to be me.
I felt a pressure to blurt something out, but I held my tongue and said something civil. "Are you and Bob Thornton going to be seeing each other again?" I tried to sound as calm as was possible with my heart throbbing in my throat.
"Maybe later in the week," Lori casually said. "That is, if my plans work out all right."
I indicated that I didn't understand.
"Simple, Sis," Lori laid it on me. "I'm devoting every night it takes until I make that husband of yours. Bob Thornton will just have to wait next door until I'm through doing what I was sent out here in the sticks to do."
I tried to think of something to say, but it wouldn't come. My mouth would deliver nothing but a small but distinct whimper of anguish.
Lori couldn't have helped but to pick up my strangled cry of mental pain, however she ignored it. Apparently she was having a lot better time than she'd expected, and didn't care to have her neurotic twin interrupt her vacation.
"Excuse me, Ruthie, but I've got to go now," was how she cut me off. "Got to wax the kitchen floor. It's Tuesday, you know. Goodbye."
There was a harsh click and she was gone.