Chapter 2
"That's just fine, honey. I can get off real nice on crying women. I like to hear them cry."
The domed, slick glans of his cock was deep in her mouth now. It slid against the soft slickness of her tongue. She knew that she was only an inch away from gagging.
Sam twisted her hair, gave her that inch. Then he was yanking her back as her convulsions made her throat cinch around the flared ridge of his swollen cock. Down again, forcing her head forward and twisting it. Then quickly back.
Her stomach ached from the sudden spasm. Tears of fear and hurt lined her cheeks. She felt one warm droplet hang from her chin.
"Move your tongue, baby! Like you're licking a popsicle!"
The thick hand tightened in her hair. Marcia let her tongue trace the bulged shape along the underside of the cock. His prick was swollen tight with blood. It was hot too and very, very smooth.
She didn't like it, didn't like the cock she was being forced to suck ...
and yet there was some other side, another part of her that responded to that swollen prick between her lips. Just so he wouldn't ram his cock into her throat again. She licked, hoping to entertain him enough... enough for that anyway.
"You never sucked a man's cock before.. .I can tell." He smoothed the side of her face. I didn't mean to be so rough, Marcia. I mean, I dig you plenty. I dig you more than any other chick I've had."
He pulled her face away from his hot cock. It slipped over her bottom lip. She looked dazedly at the swaying cock half a foot from her mouth. She looked wearily up at Sam. Her back and neck ached from being in such an agonizing position.
She wished he would let her up onto her knees. He let her hair go and her head flopped down into the softness of a pillow. She didn't try to get loose. She felt suspended, floating. Her cunt was too wet, too warm. It felt uncomfortable, as if it were leaking through her panties.
Footsteps.
The bed sagged behind her as Sam crawled onto it. He bent to kiss the backs of her knees. She didn't move a muscle. Marcia closed her eyes tight and thought of her bed at home.
Then the room, the man with the snake eyes and hard hands came back in a rush. She started to sob quietly, muffling the sounds in the pillow as best she could. Sam had pierced her silk panties with the tip of something sharp. She felt the brush of steel for a moment, the side of a blade. The silk opened to the razor sharpness. She felt the tension of the silk as it parted back to expose her cunt. He was opening the crotchpiece of her underwear with a knife.
The tiny snap of a switch, the buzz of something made Marcia's slender body go rigid. She tried to turn, but Sam pushed her shoulder and forced her face down again.
"I got a nice surprise for you, honey. This always works as an ice breaker." Another snapped switch, more buzz. "Two work even better than one."
Marcia knew that the tickles at the cheeks of her ass were vibrators. Those bullet-shaped things she saw for sale as cosmetic aids in department stores. Sam had two of them. He was rubbing the tickling tips over the round swells of her ass. He was working them up and down, pushing a dildo into her asshole. Instinctively she pinched her cheeks together.
Sam laughed. He was moving the other dildo down between her thighs, very close to her cunt. Again Marcia tried to roll off of her stomach, but Sam had forced her legs apart and was holding them down with his own as he bent down to her ass with the quivering vibrator. . . slipping it now against the outer lips of her cunt.
She felt the slickened membranes of her pussy part slightly around the pressure of the bullet. The plastic grew slick instantly from the hot cunt-juice. If only she could stop the cunt-juice from seeping out.
"Like that, Marcia?"
She tugged at the silk around her wrists. It didn't loosen. The bullet was being pushed up and down the outer edges of her pussy. She was panting hard, fighting off the excitement.
"Ohhh. . . please let me go home!" She let herself cry completely, let the sobs buck her stomach hard. "Ohhh nooo. .. don't do that!"
The dildo was slipping deeper. Sam was forcing the vibrator down over her clit. A sudden sensation hit her like nothing she'd ever felt in her life. Even when she'd sprayed water on her cunt while bathing, she'd never felt anything quite so furious.
Tendrils of thrilling pleasure connected her nipples to her cunt. She felt them stiffen out against the coarse bedspread. And when she tried to turn again, the friction over her nipples made her gasp. The tickling tip of the dildo touched her clit again and she arched her back until her belly and tits were barely touching the bed at all.
She shivered as Sam drove the vibrator in circles around the base of her swelling clitoris.
"God .. . noooo. Please ... Ohhhh please, please." Sam had worked the smooth dildo down to the mouth of her cunt and was tracing the taut muscles that controlled the opening. Marcia knew that she wasn't like other females when it came to sex. A doctor might call her neurotic. She was afraid of that place in her body, that soft, slick hole. A man had put his cock halfway into her cunt three years ago.
So now with this plastic prick working in her cunt, Marcia felt the old panic, the old fears flooding her again. Of course she wasn't normal. How could any normal girl let herself come to a hotel room with . . . with someone like Sam Philbert.
"Christ in heaven... Ohhhh God help me... !"
The vibrator was slipping through her cuntlips. She tightened them more and tried to climb higher on the bed. But Sam was laughing again, digging his fingers into her thigh.
"It hurts!"
She could feel the thing entering her cunt. She could feel the drenched slick membranes suck close to the smooth shape, could feel her pussy responding to the new hardness inside. The dildo was going so deep! It was scary and strange and terribly insistent that buzzing, tingling sensation. And then she felt the rough base of the vibrator, felt it slipping inside past her cuntlips. No! That was impossible!
"NO! It's clear inside. Uhhhh!"
"Six inches of plastic cock, baby."
Sam laughed, pulling his finger gingerly out of her cunt as the opening closed down.
"You've got fantastic muscles in your cunt, you know it? Like some virgin or something. I don't think you've been fucked much, at least not by anyone with much meat."
He laughed again, wiped her asscheeks with his buttery fingers. Marcia could only make choking sounds and work her pelvis in wild circles as the hidden vibrator inside her hot cunt sent frenzied burst of pleasure through her body. It was trapped up there inside her pussy. She couldn't get it out. . . she knew she couldn't.
"I'll die with that thing inside me ... it's wrong... you've got to take it out!"
But Sam was moving around in front of her again. He rolled her onto her side. She closed her mind against the fantastic thrills that spread from her pussy, spread up her belly and down the insides of her thighs. Her mouth fell open and she slobbered onto the sheet.
"It . . . it's driving me crazy . . . take it . . . out. . .Uhhh!"
"It feels good ,doesn't it?"
"No! Take it out. . . Ohhhh!" She squirmed her ass. But when she moved, the muscles inside her cunt folded and sucked around the invading dildo. Her pussy tightened and relaxed, tight and loose like it was milking at the plastic cock.
"Ohhhh... Ahhhh ... I don't know what's happening. I feel so weak. . . so terribly weak!"
"Tell me how it feels, baby. Tell Sam how it feels."
"No . . . it feels wrong. It feels good . . . NO!"
"You said it!" He laughed. "I heard you, you dumb bitch:"
Her heat increased, the lovely hot tickle grew hotter yet. She tried to squeeze the cock-like thing from her insides. Bitch. Why had that word made everything more intense, more pleasurable.
She shook her head, felt Sam opening her mouth with his fingers. She could smell her own cunt-juice on his fingers.
The shreds of her ruined panties dangled around her swollen cuntlips as she tried to work that awful thing free from her pussy. But her movements only added increased fire to the throbbing pressure that seized her now. She was no longer a person with free will. She was slave to that tickle inside her. Her mouth was open, drool spilling out.
Then Sam was on his side, keeping her on her side, pushing her down as he slid upwards so that his cock..
"Ohhhh. . . please ... mmmm!"
His swollen cock glided over the surface of her spasming tongue. There was a sky rocket up inside her cunt... she was on the tip of it riding through space. And Sam's thick prick was forcing the muscles of her throat apart.
She gagged and her throat closed down spasmodically around the spongy crown. Sam gave a growl of pleasure.
"Suck my cock good, you bitch!"
"Mmmmm... ahhhh!"
Marcia sucked wildly. She knew it was not really her there with a cock in her mouth and something else up inside her wet pussy. It was another part of her, a part she'd never met. She didn't want to run her tongue up the veined, swollen cock that burst her cheeks. But she did.
She lapped hungrily at the hard, hot cock, fluttered her tongue hard against the taut head of his prick. She sucked because when she stopped, Sam forced her head forward, forced his prick deep, deep into her throat like he was doing now. She bucked and jerked as the gagging reflex took over in her mind. Sam began to slide his hips forward and back, She lay on her side, so weak . . . so weak, and yet burning as the itching goodness burst in her cunt.
She pretended not to be so afraid and she wasn't. She didn't have to pretend to like what was happening to her cunt. The ravishing pleasure was beyond her control. Her pussy was jerking tight around the slick plastic of the vibrator and she tossed wildly on the bed, flopping her firm ass around.
Sam's prick had swollen larger than before. It was stretching her lips, sliding against the roof of her mouth when he stabbed his hips forward. And when it jammed her throat full, the gagging spasms were not quite so intense now. She didn't like that part of it, but the panic was gone.
There was a cock in her mouth, a large, male cock. It was full of blood and hot and spongy. When she danced her tongue along the crown, the sensation excited her as much as it seemed to excite Sam. There was nothing in her experience anything close to it. That prick felt so different, so out of place there between her lips . . . and yet strangely comfortable too. But the fire between her legs was making it hard to concentrate on doing what Sam liked.
Her mouth went slack . . . her tongue lobed loosely against the pisshole at the tip of the glistening, domed glans. Sam grunted with pent-up lust, ramming his hips forward.
"Ohhhh," she gasped, straining to free her hands, trying to twist her mouth free.
She was spinning in space, her sweat-slick thighs clamping together, then bounding apart as the vibrator surged against her cut, trembled against the convulsed, aching muscles that held it deep against the mouth of her womb.
"Bite it . . . goddamn you . . . bite it!"
Sam grasped her slender neck in a strangle hold. Marcia found the spongy tip and sank her teeth into it. A thin spurt of hot fluid filled her mouth. It was creamy slick with a slightly salty taste. She clamped down on the bursting, throbbing cock and a second flood of semen boiled out. It was thicker and even hotter than the first and it was too much to get down her throat.
Marcia whimpered and the sound of hot cum crackling in her nostrils made her feel faint. The vibrator was tearing her pussy apart . . holding her on the razor's edge of release. She bucked and snapped her hips, trying to get rid of the tantalizing, ravenous rape of her cunt. Thick curds bubbled at the corners of her mouth as Sam pumped his cum-slickened cock deep into her throat and dragged it back again. In and out, deeper yet until she felt the spraying semen coating her tonsils and throat.
She gagged, this time from the gloppy strings of cum that shut off her breathing. Sam fondled her large tits, trying to get his fingers around both quivering swells. Her nipples were gouged by his rough fingers and she whined and bucked frantically, grinding her pelvis hard against his foot. Yes, he'd slipped his ankle up against her pussy, shoving the dildo even deeper into her body. And that was all it had taken.
The touch of her clit, the feel of her hot cunt-juice as it spilled out of her swollen, hot pussy. She was coming at last and the ache turned to glorious waves of pleasure. She cried out, gargling the cum in her throat, muffled by the fucking cock in her mouth.
"Eat me good, you bitch.. . eat me damned good .. . Ahhhh!"
She felt Sam jerk. He rammed his cock past the entrance of her throat, back further until his balls bumped warmly against her chin. She felt her gags caressing the hot, smooth glans, felt the thick, potent cream being milked into her belly.
She swallowed fast. That made it better. The wave of sickness disappeared. Her asscheeks were still quivering with the passing rush of ecstasy. Why had it lasted for such a short time? Oh why couldn't that go on forever?
Her eyes were closed when Sam pulled his cock slowly from her mouth. She was in a trance and felt the wilting hot meat sliding out from between her lips. She closed them around it, squeezing one last droplet of his jizz onto her tongue. Why had she done that? She'd always thought that eating a man's cum would be horrible.
She was losing her mind. Maybe she'd dreamed the whole thing.
Sam was untying her hands. Then his fingers parted the aching lips of her pussy and she felt the plastic vibrator being eased out. He snapped it off and tossed it on the bed beside her. Marcia kept her eyes closed, breathed in huge lungfuls of air. She was exhausted.
When Sam went into the bathroom, she sat tip and stared around her. The
she heard the sound of the shower and Sam was standing in the doorway smiling at her,
"Come on. You can get freshened up before I take you over to the party."
Marcia smiled weakly, limped toward the bathroom. Sam hooked her close to him as she tried to pass by. His fingers went to her pussy and tickled her cit.
"You're my pussy now, baby. Ain't that right?"
Marcia felt too weak to protest. She looked down at her tits, down over her flat, young belly. She nodded slowly.
Sam forced her head back and covered her mouth with his. She felt him probe her cummy mouth with his tongue and then he gave her ass a sharp smack and went across the room to where a bottle of whiskey sat in amber illumination under a lamp.
His cock wasn't so big now. She was still staring at his prick when he turned with the glass in his hand.
"Next time you can have my cock in your cunt, Marcia. You oughta be fixed up with something by then, right?"
Again she nodded.
He smiled. She smiled. She went into the bathroom and tied her hair up in a towel and got quickly under the hot spray of the shower.
When she came out again, Sam was dressed. And there was a box from the most exclusive dress shop in town lying in the middle of the bed. Marcia couldn't hide the excitement in her face when she opened it. Another silk dress, but prettier, more expensive than the one Sam had ruined. There was a pair of panties too. Gold silk with a tasteful edging of lace. She smiled her thanks at Sam.
He jostled the ice in his glass and watched her put her feet into the panties and slide them up her long legs. Then the dress. He came over to tie it for her.
"How do you feel?"
"Kind of weak. Like I'm dreaming."
"Is it a good dream?"
"I didn't know about dreams like this before tonight," she said.
"I guess that's an honest enough answer. Let's go to the party. You look like a million dollars."
Marcia tasted cum under her tongue. She swallowed and swished her mouth around but the taste lingered, even after she was sitting in the leather softness of the Lincoln rushing across town to meet Sam's friends.
Robin wanted to tell her folks that she'd seen Steve, that he was okay, that he had enough to eat. But she didn't. Steve didn't want anyone to know where he was. But the real reason she kept everything to herself was her father. He would just try and pin her down, give her the third degree.
Ralph wanted Steve to go to college. It was a typical thing for a father to want. Robin couldn't blame her dad. But she couldn't blame Steve either for wanting to make his own decisions about something in his life.
So when her folks asked if she'd heard anything about Steve she told them that yes, she'd heard through the grapevine that they'd seen Steve around and that he was okay. That took it off her shoulders.
On Friday morning she awoke after a crazy, disturbing dream about Steve. She lay there under the sheets, thinking about the dream. Stevie and she had been swimming. And the water had made their swimming suits just kind of dissolve. She remembered being frantic, trying to hold together the strands of material. Then Steve and she were standing looking at each other. He had a big hard-on.
When Robin woke up, her panties were damp through the crotch and she felt odd and breathless. It was ten o'clock.
She swung her legs out of bed and padded into the kitchen. There was a note from her mom to eat breakfast and stay around the house. Her father had gone to work. Robin washed her face, brushed her teeth and looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.
Short, turned-up nose. Freckles. Red hair hanging in twisted strings from having been braided the day before. Well, maybe her breasts were growing a little. She cupped her hands under them, lifted the soft, quivery flesh. Sore as usual. And nothing like the fantastic-looking tits that perched on her older sister's chest.
Robin thumbed one of her nipples. It changed slightly in texture and swelled outward. She thumbed it again, pinched it finally. Her face flushed. There was an unfamiliar rush of tingles that seemed to course up the insides of her thighs and then grow hot in her cunt. Her pussy was hidden by sparse curls. Red curls. Really just kinky fuzz. But her nipples were nothing like Marcia's nipples. Marcia's nipples were dark and long and thick. It was weird and strangely exciting to see. Robin looked at her small, pink nipples. Her nipple pushed out some from the dainty softness of the areola but not much.
Funny how the touch had done something to her cunt. She rubbed her titty again, rubbing it deeply. A sudden surge of juice seemed to push from her tight cunt. She felt her panties become damp at the crotch. Like they had when she'd awakened in the middle of that dream.
She knew girls at school that told her stories about boys feeling them up. Boys liked to feel a girl's tits so the stories went. She'd even heard one tale of a guy actually kissing a girl's tits.
Robin closed her eyes and leaned against the basin. The cold surface shocked her out of her reverie and she hurried back down the hail to her room. She was still thinking about Steve and what had happened at his apartment.
The house was empty except for Marcia asleep upstairs. Robin went back down the hall to the living room. She got the dictionary down from a high shelf and sat cross-legged on the sofa.
Incest. Robin swallowed. She traced the definition with a fingertip. Sexual intercourse between persons so closely related that they are forbidden by law to marry.
Robin slapped the book shut. She tried to lick her lips. She looked at her tan thigh but could see no trace of the semen that had dried there yesterday. Her brother. Stevie. All her life she'd been so close to him, she loved him. And now was it all wrong because of those words she'd just read.
When she stood to put the dictionary back, Robin found that her legs were very weak. And now the crotchpiece of her nylon panties was wetter than ever. When she sat down again to look, there was a slick glistening patch of moisture that had soaked through her panties. She touched a finger to the place and rubbed the warm buttery stuff. It smelled musky. . . sexy.
She wrinkled her nose and started down the hail to her room. The phone in the kitchen went off like a firm alarm, startling her so badly that she bumped against the wall and had to lean there getting her breath before hurrying to answer.
"Oh, Stevie. . . I didn't think you'd be calling here . . . no, just me and Marcia. Marcia's upstairs asleep, she was out late last night. No, I don't have but three dollars but you can have that. Okay, bye."
Robin put the phone down. She hurried to her room and dove into a pair of cut-off jeans, sandals and pulled a bikini top over her shoulders. Silly little piece of cloth . . . it didn't hide much, but then she didn't have much to hide.
She was working on a sandwich when she saw Steve come up the alley and wave from behind the fence. He jogged up the walk and into the kitchen. They smiled at each other, his hand brushed hers briefly.
"There's milk in the refrigerator and some lunch meat you can take back with you. I got a box full of canned stuff too." She grinned at her brother. He looked nervous.
"When's everybody coming home?"
"Not for a long time yet. And Marcia wouldn't say anything, even if she knew."
He seemed to relax a little. His T-shirt was dirty and she saw that his jeans were too. "I wish I could wash those for you while you're here. We could put them in the dryer and it wouldn't take very long."
It had seemed like an innocent enough thing to suggest, but when Steve looked at her there was a certain expression in his eyes that made her flush. He got up and paced the kitchen. Nervous again.
"Yeah. Maybe I could."
Robin put a sandwich down before him and watched him wolf it down.
"Good sandwich
"Don't you get enough to eat over there?"
"I kinda ran out of cash. Bill Whittle owes me some though and he should pay up before the end of the week.
Robin dug the three crumpled bills from the pocket of her jeans and shoved them across the table. "There. I'll see if I can get some more by tomorrow."
"How you going to do that? Babysitting?"
"Nope. I have an idea." Robin took the dishes and put them in the sink. Steve was standing again, looking out the window like he expected his father to arrive at any moment.
"Oh come on," Robin scolded. "You know Dad's working and when Mom goes to one of those garden club meetings, she stays all day."
Steve smiled, let his shoulders relax.
"Yeah, I know you're fight. It's just weird being around here again."
"Why don't you go down to the basement and put your clothes in the washing machine.
"Yeah, okay. I guess that's safe enough."
Steve padded downstairs while Robin went down the hall to her room and plopped into a chair. She was scared. A conspiracy always was kind of scary. But even if somebody did come home, Steve would be safe in the basement. No one ever went down there except her mother and then only on washday. She heard Steve come back up the steps and poke his head out of the door.
"Hey, I can't find the soap." He grinned sheepishly at her as she pushed by him and descended the steep stairwell. He'd wound a towel around his middle. She was trying not to think of things like that.
"You would have put in too much anyway," she said, getting the soap powder out from behind a pile of dirty clothes and sprinkling two handfuls into the machine. Robin could feel him watching her as she pushed the cycle button to on. When she turned, Steve was sitting on the old couch that had been stored in the basement for years. The towel was arranged across his thighs. He was smiling cheerfully at her.
"I guess you can put them in the dryer by yourself," she kidded, heading for the steps.
"Robin . . . wait."
She stopped, turned.
He dipped his head, shrugged. "I don't want to just hang out down here with nobody to talk to..."
The lonesome sound of his voice made her forget about that morning in his apartment. After all, he was her brother. And she loved him. He was lonesome. Affecting a carefree bounce, she went and sat down on the couch.
Steve smiled at her. "Guess I miss you the most. Working on the jeep, just fooling around like we used to do."
"I miss you too, Stevie." She bit her lip. "Maybe it would be okay again if you moved home."
"Naw ... naw, it wouldn't." He looked miserable. Lost. Robin wanted to say something sensible but she didn't feel very sensible at all. "Maybe I should join the Army or something. At least it would get me the hell away from home."
"Oh Steve, don't do anything like that!" She hadn't meant to touch him. But touching had always been so natural between them. Her hand was on his wrist. He closed his eyes. Robin moved close, put an arm around his shoulders.
Their eyes met and Robin could see the anguish in her brother's eyes. She tightened her hand on his shoulder, smiled bravely. Hell what else could she do? She was just his sister. His eighteen-year-old sister. Steve was twenty-one. He was more experienced about life than she.
Steve put his arm around her shoulders too. Robin knew she was breathing funny, knew that something odd was happening to her body. But Steve's face came slowly forward, slipped against hers. She felt his other arm slipping behind her, gently smoothing her bare back. She trembled, sucked in a gasp of air when Steve's mouth brushed her neck.
Robin had no idea where the storm in her loins had come from. It was a rushing, spreading glow. Steve was kissing her. Not that they hadn't kissed before. But these kisses were different. She wanted to die or pass out. She wanted to be a hundred miles away and yet she wanted to stay right there in the warmth of her brother's embrace, wanted to feel his hands making circles on her back . . . so warm, so smooth.
His lips found her cheek, her chin. She whimpered. Their lips brushed, then he was kissing her, pushing her back on the old sofa. Robin moaned. She wanted to push him away, but her hands were locked tightly around his back.
Oh god, it felt so wonderful! It felt like nothing she'd ever felt in her whole life.
"Steve . . oh noooo!" She squirmed, but weakly.
"I love you, Robin. I love you better than anybody." His hand shook as he fumbled at her skimpy bikini top.
Robin twisted her body, fought against him now but it was a silly gesture. Steve was too strong. His fingers slipped easily under the halter and she felt her tit surrounded by his palm.
Her nipple filled almost instantly with blood. She could actually feel it happening! She shuddered. Steve rubbed his palm over the small pink button of her nipple. It grew against the friction, sending sparkles of pleasure through her belly.
The bikini top was stretched up now, exposing her other tit. Steve kissed her tits eagerly, awkwardly, hurrying. Robin's mind convulsed with fear as his lips closed over the tender swell of her tit, as his tongue raked the pink nipple.
INCEST!