Chapter 2
While Ben was spending the long, evening hours in bed with Julie, Tara had been alone in his house. Her older sister, Dianne, had gone out on a date. Dianne had dated the boy three times before, the only boy she had gone out with since her parents' death and her move into her Uncle Ben's house. That left Tara in the house alone. She hadn't dated at all since moving into Ben's. The tragedy had torn her asunder, but her young mind was resilient, and she was recovering as quickly as was humanly possible. But, the death of her mother and father had left a deep scar on Tara.
She was just a few weeks past her fifteenth birthday. She had been very active with boys up to the time of the tragedy. In fact, she had tried mostly everything with boys short of going all the way.
During the past year Tara's slim, nymph-like body had truly begun to develop. Her breasts were now firm and thrusting, tempting, swaying cones, tipped with extended, pink nipples-if it was true that you could measure a girl's passion by the length of her nipple tips, then Tara was indeed a very passionate girl. She did not have the kind of physical maturity that Julie did; instead, she had a bewitching, breath-sucking sexiness in her curvy, girlish grace. She moved with quick, cat-like grace. Her long, flowing blonde hair beautifully framed her lovely, lovely face. She was a real charmer, the kind that could make an old man groan and wish that he were young again. All this, at fifteen years of age.
Alone in the house, the night stretching out before her in endless boredom, Tara finished her bath, toweled her luscious young body dry and gazed at her reflection in the full-length mirror.
She had a lot to look at and admire. She looked at her glowing pink reflection with approval, admiring her own nakedness. With a wicked smile she licked her pink tongue over her lips as her hands cupped her firm, sharp, creamy tits. Her extended nipples sprang to life with desire as her fingers teased them. She watched her reflection in the mirror as she felt herself up. She sighed with pleasure, wishing that the caressing hands were a boy's hands. She loved to be felt up. Finally she sighed deeply and dropped her caressing hands from her trembling, swaying breasts and tingling, hard nipples. She felt her clitoris hard and shamelessly erect with excitement in the tender, secret pink flesh of her pussy. She didn't want to finger herself to completion, she wasn't in the mood for that.
She slipped on a pair of wispy lace and nylon panties; they were the panty-bottom of her baby doll pajamas. She slipped the virtually transparent top over her head and it fell sensuously in place, caressing her tits, hugging her waist and hips; the hem of the filmy pa jama top just barely covered the lacy edge of the panty bottom. Her sleeping outfit was pink and white and provocative. She smiled at her reflected vision in the mirror approvingly again, put her pretty feet into the pink and white pump slippers, and swished slowly out of the bathroom. Her delectable young body was warmly scented with powder and perfume. As she walked back to her bedroom the filmy top clung to her swaying tits, and the cherry-tipped imprint of her nipples was clearly visible through the sheer material.
Earlier in the evening, shortly after both her sister and uncle had left her in the house alone, Tara had curiously ventured up into the attic. There she poked about for better than an hour, inspecting relics of her uncle and late aunt's past. She poured over picture albums, smiling to herself as she saw old pictures of her uncle when he was a very young man. She liked the way he looked in his bathing suit in one old photo. His stomach was a knot of muscles and he looked handsome and very attractive. It was hard for Tara to believe that he was the same man with whom she and her sister were now living. His thick blonde hair was now thinning. His muscled stomach was going soft with rolls of fat. He was getting so old, she thought. When a girl's only fifteen, she considers anyone approaching thirty to be ancient; and, her uncle was clearly fifteen years beyond the ancient age of thirty. To Tara, he was old enough to be in a museum.
Tara had virtually satisfied her curiosity in the attic and was on the verge of turning off the light when she caught sight of a heap of blankets and sheets in a cobwebbed corner of the attic. What caught her attention was a bit of cardboard that peeked out from under the thick cover of blankets and sheets. She wondered what was in the cardboard box. Had her uncle or aunt purposefully hidden this box? She walked over and uncovered the layers and layers of blankets and sheets from the small cardboard box. She carefully opened the box and looked inside. She saw it packed loosely with five books, three thick and hard-covered, two thinner and paperbound.
She picked up the box when she discovered that it was light and easy to carry. She wanted to see the books in the box. Not caring to remain in the stuffy attic any longer, she carried the box down the stairs and to her room, sliding it under her bed until she was quite ready to inspect its contents. She reasoned that her uncle would not miss the box since he scarcely went up to the attic. A.nd, she had carefully rearranged the blankets and sheets until it looked as if they still concealed the small box.
Now, alone in the house and bored after her bath, she remembered the small box. She got down on her rosy knees and pulled it out from under her bed. She closed her bedroom door for privacy. It was silly to do that in an empty house, but she felt girlishly guilty to be picking through someone else's possessions.
She took the five books out of the box and tossed them onto her fluffy bedspread. She lay back on the bed, fixed the pillow comfortably behind her head, and reached for the slim paperback book. With a feeling of forbidden excitement she opened the book. As she slowly gazed at the pages her young, innocent eyes went wide with wonder.
Tara had unwittingly, in her boredom, found a box containing her uncle's tiny library of pornography.
The slim, paperback book was crammed full with drawings. It was a cartoon story, skillfully and luridly drawn, leaving nothing to the imagination of the young girl.
It was the story of a jungle queen. The jungle queen was a fantastically-built girl, beautiful beyond description. Since the cartoon story was in color, Tara quickly identified with the jungle queen, since she was a blonde, just as Tara was. The jungle queen was in a great, wildly decorated hut that was decorated in erotic style. On the hut's walls hung huge pictures of erect cocks and pulsating vaginas. There were fantasies of couples coupling with total sensual abandon. Tara stared at the first picture avidly, heat beginning to grip her young, sweet pussy.
The jungle queen was a commanding figure. Tara slowly moved her eyes from picture to picture, savoring the wonderful color drawings and the story line simply told beneath each picture. The longer she gazed at the jungle queen, the more and more. Tara found herself identifying with the blonde queen. The queen was wearing a slender leopard skin bra over her overflowing breasts, and a skimpy leopard skirt that dropped only an inch below her frilly panties. Tara wondered for a moment where the jungle queen got her panties, then she gave herself up to the erotic fantasy as she turned the page.
At a command from the jungle queen a huge, fantastically-muscled black native entered the hut. He wore only a tight loincloth around his middle; the loincloth encased what was obviously the hugest pecker in the world. Just imagining what the size of his black cock would be made Tara's throat go dry.
The jungle queen gave the huge native several orders and then asked him if he had fulfilled the task which she had earlier given to him. She discovered that he still hadn't performed the task. He was the chief warrior, but she was the queen. She was angry, and he bowed his head humbly before her royal outburst.
The jungle queen made the native bow low before her. She tore away his loincloth; he had the biggest cock that Tara could imagine; he looked like a horse between his legs. The jungle queen made, the native assume the position, then she took a whip from the wall of the hut and advanced on the naked, bowing black savage dramatically. For a moment she poised her lush white body over the naked black native's shining black, heavily-muscled body. Then, with a strong flick of her wrist she began to flog the native. He cringed beneath her, taking the brutal sting of the whip as it flogged unmercifully over his vulnerable ass. Welts, ugly and brutal crisscrossed his buttocks and flecks of blood began to trickle from the cruel wounds. The jungle queen flogged him until the native collapsed, unconscious, on the floor. She bent over him, tossing away the whip, and slapped his face until he became conscious. Then she walked away from him and sprawled back on her luxurious bed of animal skins. When Tara read what the jungle queen wanted the beaten warrior chief to do, she gasped.
The warrior chief complied, crawling up between the luscious white columns of his queen's thighs, which were wide-spread. At her command he stripped away her microskirt and panties. He stared with hunger at her pink, blonde-fringed slit. His thick lips were moist. The jungle queen closed her eyes and told him to worship her cunt. He did.
Tara was in a state of high sexual excitement as she hungrily devoured the pictures with her eyes. The black man's face disappeared between the queen's quivering white thighs. Her cunt lips were moist and parted for the lick of his thick tongue. He buried his face between her legs, his mouth sucking noisily over her cunt hill. The queen's face was a study of ecstasy. Tara saw his tongue licking over the queen's pink, pulsating slit, saw it lick over the clitoris, saw his thick red tongue finally lick wetly up and down over the cunt lips, saw the tongue begin to dip into the gaping hole of the queen's vagina, impaling the queen on his dipping, diving, flicking, driving tongue. After the queen climaxed, she pushed his face away from her creamy twat. She gave him an order, and the order puzzled Tara. She had commanded him to send her fucking team to her.
Tara's excited puzzlement did not last long. Into the hut came three gigantic native warriors, each of them bigger and stronger looking than the powerful chief who had just eaten the queen's pussy. The queen smiled, rose, and in her naked splendor walked from native to native, stripping away each loincloth in turn, leaving the three studs naked before her imperial stare.
She walked among them, her white fingers curling around their huge black cocks, fondling them to slow erection. She led them over to her bed and made them stand nakedly before her. She crawled on her knees from man to man, her red lips sucking each hard black cock in turn, making each cock harder and readier for combat. And then the sexual conquest began wildly.
One black cock took the queen in the pink pussy slit, while a second speared cleanly and deeply in to the balls between her pink buttocks. She was being fucked in the cunt and the ass-hole at the same time. The third cock was buried to its hilt between the queen's red, gaping, sucking lips. His huge balls slapped against the queen's chin. The men rotated their positions, each in his turn fucking her first in the ass, then in the pussy, then dumping his load in her mouth. Three times the men made the full rotation. And then the jungle queen had had enough. She dismissed her native fucking team and lay back to dream of further fucking in the black jungle over which she was queen-queen of power and queen of sex.
The cartoon story of the jungle queen deeply moved and sexually stimulated Tara. She was hot with desire. She had never dreamed of being fucked three ways at once-and, by black cocks! It was too much! She was virtually panting out loud as she put the book aside and reached for the second paperback book. It was also a full-color cartoon story. In the book Tara saw people fucking in fantastic positions. She saw men sucking men, women eating women, strange and weird combinations of linked men and women fucking and sucking in a wild orgy. She saw young girls spanking the father's naked red asses, dominating and using their fathers arrogantly. Tara read all of the books. She was so hot when she was finished that she began to slide her finger under the thin band of nylon that covered her moist slit. A good finger-fuck would give her relief. Just as her finger touched her moist pussy lips, Tara heard the front door of the house open downstairs. She quickly hopped up, put the books back in the box and then slid the box under the bed. She heard her sister talking softly to her date in the hallway.
"You wait here, Tom," she heard Dianne telling her date. "I'll go upstairs and see if my sister's asleep. I don't think my uncle will be home for awhile yet. So, if Tara's asleep the coast'll be clear for us to have some real fun together."
Tara heard her older sister giggle as the boy told her to hurry. Tara quickly dove under the covers, turned off the light, and pretended to be asleep. She heard her door softly open. Dianne peered in and, satisfied that Tara was asleep, closed the door and tripped swiftly down the carpeted stairs.
Tara sprang out of bed, opened her door, walked silently down the hall and listened, with ears straining, to the conversation between her older sister and her date.
"The coast is clear," Tara heard her sister, Dianne say. Tara moved down the stairs until she could see her older sister and her date.
Dianne was a vision of seventeen-year-old loveliness. Her long, shining auburn hair framed a face that was as beautiful as Tara's. One could tell they were sisters by looking at their faces. But their coloring and size differed. Dianne was tall, five-seven, tall for a girl; Tara was five-four. And, Dianne's body was a bit more lush than Tara's. She stood close to her date, her blue sweater clinging to her thrusting tits. She had slim hips that curved out from a narrow waist. Her long legs were flawless, and the boy could see a lot of them; she was wearing a mid-thigh miniskirt of red plaid.
The boy was tall and good-looking, with short brown hair. He hugged Dianne close and kissed her on her cheek.
"You say the coast is clear?" the boy asked excitedly.
"Yes, Tom. Tara's asleep in her room with her door closed, and my uncle's still out. I think he's with his girl friend, so he won't be home for a while, yet."
"Great!" the boy said.
"Come on, Tom. Let's go into the living room and turn the lights down real low," she smiled wickedly. "We have to do something about that hard-on you've got," she giggled.
From where she was concealed, Tara could see the boy's erection brazenly pushing out the cloth of his trousers. She saw her older sister gazing down hotly at the erection and, Tara stared at it hotly too. When Dianne and the boy went into the living room, Tara moved swiftly down the steps, went round the hall and came up in the darkness to the door near the sofa. She pushed the door slightly open. Her view was perfect. She was no more than six feet away from her sister and the boy as they sat down close to each other on the sofa. She watcher her sister and the boy kiss hotly, saw her sister's cheek sink in, and Tara knew that Dianne was seductively sucking on the boy's tongue.
As Tara watched she saw her sister's hand drop to the boy's lap to fondle and caress the boy's cock, a hard, long ridge pulsing within his trousers. Tara gulped, burning with desire. First the erotic books ... and now ... this...
"I wanna lay you, Dianne," the boy breathed hoarsely as he heatedly caressed her full tits through her sweater
"No, darling. That's too dangerous," she answered as she firmly clutched his erection through his trousers.
"But why?"
"Suppose my uncle walks in and we're in the middle of it, You won't be able to pull your pants up quick enough and I won't be able to pull up my panties in time, either. It's too dangerous, I tell you, Tom, lover."
"Then let's go back out to my car and do it there," he said eagerly.
"Not on your life," Dianne laughed musically. "That little sports car of yours isn't made for screwing, unfortunately. So, we'll have to do the best we can right here."
"But you said-"
"I know. I said we'd have to take care of that beautiful hard-on that you have. And, I will take care of it, darling Tom," she said seductively.
"Christ, I'll have blue balls soon if we don't do something. And if you keep on jerking my peter with your hand I'll come in my pants."
"We wouldn't want that to happen, would we ? " Dianne laughed drunkenly. "I mean, all that sweet cream shooting inside your pants. What a waste."
"Are you gonna take it out and jerk it off with your hand or what?" the boy asked Tara's older sister as Tara watched from the darkness, in the hot grip of sexual excitement. It seemed to Tara that her sister was acting far more maturely than the boy was, even though the boy was at least a year older. She seemed to be controlling the situation.
Dianne curled herself close in the boy's arms, tilting her full tits against his chest, thrillingly rubbing her hard nipples round and round as she tongue-kissed him. She shifted her position, hiking her miniskirt up over her nylon stocking tops, revealing the creamy flesh of her upper thighs. The boy's face flushed as the kiss broke and Dianne began flicking her tongue into his ear, teasingly. She pressed the mound of her pussy against his thigh and began to rub it there hard. The boy puffed for air. She moved so that she was half hovering over him, one knee between his spread legs, the other on the outside of his thigh. Her pussy continued to rub over his upper thigh, exciting both of them as she tongue-lashed his sensitive ear and rubbed her hard nipples against his chest.
Her thigh made firm contact with his erect prick as she breathed wetly into his ear, mumbling obscene words to him, driving him wild with need. She ground her thigh mercilessly against his hard prick. The boy felt as if he was being, smothered by the scent and silky softness of her.
"You're a dear love and I'm going to give you a nice treat in a little while," Dianne said huskily as she nibbled on his earlobe and rubbed her body against his.
"God, I want you," the boy said, his voice nearly drowning.
"Just be patient, Tom, love, and Dianne will reward you," she teased.
Tara could hardly stand watching the lurid scene. She had never witnessed her sister acting in this manner. Her sister was making the boy squirm, and like it. What a tease she was!
Then, suddenly, Dianne shifted her position, and she was sitting close to the boy again, her thigh touching his. She was seducing the boy the way she wanted to, she was in complete control of him, and she loved the feeling of power. Her eyes were partly lidded and were glittering with desire.
The boy groaned. Tara stared wide-eyed at what her sister was now doing.
She snuggled close to him and teased his cock with her fingers. Then the boy groaned loudly as Dianne slowly unzipped his fly.
"Goodness, Tom, love, we can't keep your big boner cooped up in your pants forever," she said softly.
"Oh, God," the boy moaned.
"Dianne'll make you feel better once she gets that boner out."
The boy was at her mercy, tossing and sighing as she teased his hard prick through the material of his pants. His fly was gaping wide open, but she teased him on, delaying the drive of her slender fingers into the opening. She tortured him and fondled him through the fabric of his trousers, enjoying the boy's discomfort. As she slowly fondled his swollen prick in his pants she seductively teased him with lurid conversation, her voice low and charged with meaning, describing what she could do for him to make his peter feel better.
Then her hand finally wormed its way into his fly and began to tease his naked hardness with knowing fingers. The boy nearly sobbed. Dianne laughed softly, enjoying the power she held over him. Then she skillfully lifted his cock, hard as a rock, out of his pants. Tara stared. It was pink and swollen, long and thick and hard. She gasped.
"What a nice, big prick you have, Tommy," Dianne cooed.
She ordered the boy to shift his hips. He obeyed. She unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants and shorts until they were bunched around his ankles. He was naked from the waist down.
"Mmmmm, this is going to be fun," Dianne said softly as she gazed down at the upward thrust of his hard, naked cock in the firm curl of her moving fingers. She began to stroke and massage his thick cock, rubbing the heated flesh back and forth. Then she slipped her other hand to his balls and cradled the heavy, twin load in the palm of her soft hand. The boy gritted his teeth, went red in the face, and groaned with anguish and delight. She expertly toyed with his penis and testicles, as if they were toys made for her amusement.
"Like that, lover?" she asked seductively.
"Yesss," he hissed.
"This is fun," she sighed. She stroked his hard rod slowly, her fingers making a tight fist around his shaft. Up and down her hand moved slowly, teasingly, making his cock get slowly redder and redder from the tight pressure her fingers were applying.
"If you keep that up much longer, Dianne, I'm going to come all over the carpet," the boy said through tightly clenched teeth.
"Oh, that'll never do, lover boy. I have better things in mind."
"You do?"
"I sure do!"
"What-"
She pushed him back on the couch until he was lying there fiat on his back, his cock standing hard and erect, pointing straight up at the ceiling. His face was a tortured mask. Her face was a mask of triumphant desire. She was using him to satisfy the need that now she meant to satisfy. Tara watched her sister as she leaned over the boy, her face close to his testicles, her warm breath fanning over his straining cock. Her auburn hair tickled over his quaking, naked thighs.
Her wet lips kissed teasingly over the boy's hard stomach. Tara watched and remembered the jungle queen and those hard black cocks in the hot suck of her lips; she breathed deeply as she watched her older sister, knowing clearly what was soon going to happen. She suddenly wished that it could be her lips, instead of her sister's, that would be closing wetly on the boy's hard cock.
Dianne was now bent over the boy's lap, her two hands massaging the boys erect penis. The boy thrust up his hips. Her lips danced along his heated flesh, fleeting kisses traveling up and down on the hard pole. She licked her tongue over the hard knob and tasted the drop of seminal fluid that gleamed there. Her lips formed a lipstick-red oval and her face moved slowly down toward the swaying, erect prick.
"Ugggg," the boy groaned at the first moist contact of her lips.
Her lips parted and the warm moistness closed over the throbbing, super-sensitive head of his prick.
"Oh, do that thing," the boy groaned. "Suck me. Yessss. Good, ohhhhh, gooooood."
Tara was in a trance, an erotic trance, as she watched. Her cunt was throbbing. The boy's strong hands reached down and tangled in Dianne's auburn hair. Her head was now slowly bobbing over the boy's lap. The thickness of his hard cock was shoving in and out of the sucking oval of her sweet, heated, expert lips. She plunged her head all the way down, consuming the entire length of his hardness, nearly choking as it tickled and thrust against her tonsils.
Her tongue washed around his wet, hard, fleshy prick as her lips sucked with rapture and her teeth grated tinglingly over it. She bobbed her head slowly up and down, bringing her lips all the way up to the creamy-sticky, blood-swollen head of his rod, then down again sucked and dove her hungry, gaping, gripping lips. She was in no hurry to finish him. She wanted to savor every lovely moment of the sucking. She felt power, not humbleness, as she ate his cock. He was completely under her power. He was like a helpless rag doll under her hypnotic lips.
She swirled her tongue over the knobby head of his rod and then she sucked hard over the throbbing head.
"Oh, God, you're the best. You're the end, the whole world," the boy sobbed in the throes of passion.
Dianne was too busy and her lips were too stuffed with his prick, to answer. His hard shaft drove rhythmically in and out of her ovaled, clinging lips. The boy jerked his hips in rhythm with her wet, sucking lips. Every time her lips sucked up the length of his prick her tongue dragged dramatically along the fevered flesh. She loved the scent of his manhood. She sucked hungrily, every inch of her being concentrated on her task.
"Suck it, suck it, ohhhhh that's the way to do it. Yes oh God that's so good. Oh God I'm going to come, come, come!"
She felt his hardness swell and begin to throb in the greedy tight clutch of her surging lips. She knew he was about to go over the edge and empty his cock between her lips deep in her mouth. She wanted that. She wanted to taste every drop of his come, wanted wildly to swallow it all down. And then he came. His body jerked and her lips worked and sucked more feverishly. Her auburn head became a bobbing blur. She sucked. A great fountain of white sperm poured from his cock. She gulped and swallowed. Another gush squirted forth, her cheeks ballooned out with the load and then squeezed in as she drank it down. She sucked and swallowed as geyser after geyser splashed from his ejaculating prick into the hot circle of her surging lips. She sucked wildly as his cock began to slowly go limp, drained of sperm by her mouth. She wanted every last drop, and she got it.
Finally, she raised her head up, releasing his limp shaft from her shining, sperm-sprayed lips. Drops of come glistened on her red lips. She licked the drops away with a satisfied swallow.
"Feel better now, Tommie boy?" she asked throatily.
Tara blinked her eyes. She could hardly believe what her eyes had seen and her senses had thrilled to. Her older sister had given the handsome boy a delicious blow-job. Tara wondered if she was as good as her sister. Her sister's performance had been impressive. She heard the two of them talking softly as they kissed and caressed each other.
She didn't know the exact meaning of the words, she was too absorbed in the watching. Her sister and the boy were in a torrid embrace, her sister's miniskirt bunched up near the edge of her red panties, a delectable expanse of thigh showing above her stocking tops. The boy was twisted sideways from the waist, his nakedness from the waist down still under the hungry gaze of Tara. Tara saw the boy's hand drop down to her older sister's moving thigh, and began its journey slowly and caressingly up toward her sister's panty-protected crotch.
Dianne widened her legs, making room for the boy's advancing hand. She had told the boy to give her a hand-job. He was doing her bidding, just as she knew he would. The upward movement of his hand along her now naked thighs sent thrilling electric shocks through Dianne's being. Then she felt a sudden jolt of emotion as his strong finger grazed over the thin red crotch band of her panty, stretched so tightly and protectively over her excited mound.
She spread her thighs wider apart. Her miniskirt bunched up over her snaking hips. The boy's hand cupped her pussy mound, making her sigh with delight. His finger lolled up and down over the cleft in her pussy mound, pressing the nylon into the juicing lips. She slid down lower on the cushion of the couch, to better accommodate the boy's finger.
"Take off my panties, dammit," she said urgently.
"Yeah, sure," the boy said dumbly.
Clumsily, he peeled her panties off. Dianne's eyes were fast getting glassy with desire. Her belly rose and fell with her rapid breathing. The boy's hands moved down over her flat belly and with his fingers he gently but clumsily pressed the pink edges of her cunt lips. Dianne sucked in air. The bud of her clitoris was exposed and erect. His fingers stroked roughly over it, making her shiver with need.
The elastic lips of her cunt expanded to give entrance to his probing finger. The' tip of his finger slid into the moist cunt opening, making her sigh. Her legs clamped tightly around his hand, trapping it against her slit, forcing the finger into her pulsing hole. The walls of her cunt were on fire as his finger jabbed all the way in.
"That's it, darling," she breathed, squirming her ass up, moving her mound against the jab of his finger. "Not too rough, now. Ahhh, that's the way. Finger me good, honey."
Dianne groaned with delight as the boy's finger fucked in and out of her moist vagina. His hand and fingers cupped and caressed her soft, warm, yielding flesh. Her tight, pink, pussy lips clutched at the thrusting finger. She moved her palpitating slit jerkily in rhythm with his jabbing finger. She thrashed her hips up and down and sighed as she felt the pleasurable sensations that his finger was giving her. Tingles of wicked pleasure gripped her heaving body.
"Faster, darling," she urged the boy between heated kisses. "I'm near the edge. God, faster. I'll come, come, soon, only fuck me faster with your finger. Ohhhh, that's the way. Don't stop, keep it up."
Tara could tell by the twisted, tortured expression on her older sister's lovely face that she was nearing her climax, Then the boy, Dianne and Tara suddenly tensed. They heard the motor of a car turning off the street up onto the driveway. It was Uncle Ben returning from his night of lust with Julie.
"Stop, stop," Dianne told the boy urgently. "That's my uncle's car driving up the driveway."
"Good God!" the boy said, frightened.
"Aaaagg," Dianne sobbed with frustration as his finger, wet and creamy and dripping, pulled quickly out of her hot pussy. She was so near the edge of completion. She was being cheated out of her finish.
Then Dianne got a quick grip on herself. She picked up her ruined panties and jammed them into her purse. She got up and pulled her skirt down, smoothing it into place. She patted her disarrayed auburn hair, trying to make herself look presentable.
"Get your pants up, Tom, and be damn quick about it," Dianne said urgently to the boy. He drunkenly sprang into action, dragging up his shorts and trousers, fixing the belt in place.
"I've gotta get outta here," the boy said nervously. "I can't let him catch me here."
Dianne had control of herself except for the throbbing in her moist, hot, naked pussy. There was a telltale gleam in her slightly passion-glassed eyes and her hair was still in disarray.
"Don't worry," Dianne said. "He won't think anything's wrong. Just act natural."
"Jeeze, I can't. I'm too jumpy. I'll give the game away," the boy said in fright.
Dianne could see that it was true; the boy would give everything away. She decided that the best thing for her to do was to get him out of the house, and fast. She heard the garage door open, and the car's motor growl as it moved into the garage.
"Okay. Beat it. Go out the front door. He'll be coming in through the side of the house, so he won't see you. Cut across the lawn keeping in the shadows to your car. Go on, move."
"Yeah, yeah," the boy said. With speed and fright he was out of the front door, closing the door behind himself quietly. At the instant that the front door closed, the door leading in from the garage to the house opened, and both Dianne and Tara could hear their uncle's footsteps coming in toward the living room.
Tara was, for the present, stuck in her hiding place. She stared out through the crack of the door at her older sister. Dianne was fighting for control of herself. She looked natural except for her quick breathing, the glazed look in her passionate dark eyes and the disarray of her hair. She took a deep breath and steadied herself as her uncle entered the living room.
"Hi, Uncle Ben," Dianne said, trying to make her voice sound friendly and natural. But there was an edge of excitement, nervousness and subdued passion in her voice.
"Hello, Dianne," Ben answered. He was surprised to find her in the living room alone. He frowned.
"Where you been?"
"Oh, out," he said, not committing himself. He looked at her closely as he surveyed the situation in a split second. In that moment he sensed it all. He saw the nervous way in which she was wringing her hands. He saw that only one dim light was on. Why would she be alone in the living room with only one dim light on? Strange behavior. And, her appearance. Ben was experienced. He had seen that look before. It was a look of frustrated passion. Her eyes gave off a telltale glitter. Her cheeks were slightly flushed. Her hair was messed up. Her skirt was slightly wrinkled and her sweater seemed slightly stretched, especially around her proud tits. Ben knew. The girl had obviously been necking and petting with a boy in the living room, and his arrival had interrupted them at a crucial moment. She had probably hurried the boy out of the front door when she heard him driving up. Well, now, Ben smiled to himself. Dianne's a little bundle of passion, is she? It was now obvious to him that Julie had been correct when she had guessed that the girls might be home fooling around with boys.
"Where's Tara?"
"Asleep in her room."
"I see," Ben said quietly. His eyes held Dianne's. They seemed to see right through her, probing deeply, finding the truth. She shifted from foot to foot, nervously. "So Tara's asleep. And, young lady, what were you doing all by yourself here in the dark living room?"
"Well, I ... was just roaming around..." she said with a faltering voice.
Ben knew Dianne was quick and bright. If she had nothing to hide then there would be no need for her nervousness and her failing answers.
"You know you weren't just roaming around," Ben smiled knowingly at the girl. He walked over and sat down in the comfortable armchair. "Now, Dianne, why don't you just try to tell me the truth," he said softly, trying not to frighten the girl.
She tried to return his stare, but, guiltily, she could not. She dropped her eyes from his, took a nervous step toward him, knowing her lies would do her no good. She decided the thing to do was to tell him the truth. Tara, hiding in the darkness, could feel the nervousness that held her sister captive.
"Well, Uncle Ben, the truth is."
"Yes?"
"The truth is-there was a boy here."
"I thought so."
"You did?" she said, surprised., "I knew it the moment I walked in. I could tell by the way you looked. I could tell by the way you acted nervous, and by the way you talked. Now, why don't you just relax and tell me all about it?" he said easily, with a friendly smile on his face, trying to put the girl at ease. Ben studied the girl as she stood, fighting herself, right in front of him. She was a beauty. He liked the way her sweater hugged her thrusting breasts, so young and proud and full.
"Well," she giggled nervously, "a boy named Tom was over here. We went to a movie tonight and then drove back here." She threw her shoulders back with pride, pride in her beauty and her body. "He's kind of wild for me, Uncle Ben." As she thrust her shoulders back and poised before him, her firm young breasts swayed slightly beneath her sweater. She was unconsciously displaying herself for his benefit. She was still deeply stirred by her unsatisfied passion. She could still feel the throb of desire, unquelled, in the hungry mound between her thighs. She turned and smiled at Ben, a bewitching smile on her face, making Ben unduly conscious of her fine body. Ben, in spite of himself, longed to get his hands on his niece.
"So," Ben said, "he's kind of wild for you, eh?"
"Yes, he is. I've been out with him a few times. My," she giggled boldly, her unappeased desire making her a bit wild, "my, but that boy's all hands."
"I see," Ben said.
"Do you really want me to tell you about it?" she asked, licking her pink tongue over her lips.
"Yes, I do," Ben heard himself saying. He knew he should just let the matter drop. But, for some reason he longed morbidly to know, wanted to hear the girl describe what had transpired between herself and the boy.
"Well," Dianne grinned. Then she paused. She didn't know how to continue. She had never talked about herself intimately to her uncle. He sat in the chair comfortably, waiting for her words, a warm smile on his face. She had noticed the way he had looked at her. Could it be, she wondered, that her own uncle was as attracted to her as the boy was ? The secret thought stirred her and made her desire whip up higher; she felt a dangerous teasing need come over her. She wondered if she dared tease her uncle. It might be fun, she thought. She was not in complete control of her emotions. They were taking hold of her, making her do things she would not normally do. With a sultry smile she took a step toward him as he sat there, waiting for her words. "Well," she said, "all I can say is Tom sure has a thing about these," she grinned. She rolled her shoulders making her breasts sway wickedly. She saw her uncle's eyes widen. "Do you think they're nice?" she asked softly, dangerously, playing out her little, game.
"Well, Dianne," he started. Then he paused. Oh, he thought, why not ? Why not be frank. Kids like frankness. He decided to talk to her directly. "Well, Dianne, I think you have a lovely pair, there," he said, trying to make his voice casual.
Tara, in her hiding place, held her breath. She could not believe what was transpiring before her eyes. Her sister was teasing her uncle, and, he seemed to be taking the bait. In stunned silence she eagerly watched.
"Well," she grinned. "I'm happy you like them." She didn't blush. She was deep in her desire to get a rise out of him. As she looked down at him she suddenly realized that he was a man, nothing more, nothing less, and, as a man, he had to find her desirable. The fact that he was her uncle did not bother Dianne. Now he was simply a man to her and she needed a man to finish what the boy had started. She felt it would be perfect justice for him to take up where the boy had left off. After all, wasn't her Uncle Ben the one who had stopped things before they could be finished to her satisfaction? "Yes," she repeated slowly, moving her shoulders so that her tits danced slightly, "yes, I'm very glad you like them."
"You've got a lot there to like," he laughed. "But be careful, young lady, or you might get into trouble."
"Trouble? What kind of trouble?"
"You know-"
"Trouble with you?" she teased.
He decided to ignore her bold question. He didn't like the direction in which the conversation was tending. He decided to drop the whole thing.
"I think you ought to go to bed, Dianne."
"But you wanted me to tell you what had happened." Before he could object, she rushed on. "Tom and I got back here and when we discovered that you were still out and Tara was asleep, well, we decided to take advatage of the situation. We went over to the couch and had ourselves a time, I'll tell you," she said throatily.
"You don't have to tell me anymore, Dianne."
"But you asked me. And now I want to."
She decided that some flattery might help.
"You see, Uncle Ben, it's just that I feel like I don't have to pretend with you. You're not like my uncle. You're more like a good guy, a good friend, a guy I like. You make me feel like I should level with you. I feel you'll understand. I like you."
Ben studied her. He felt flattered. He could feel the force of her desirability. She was so young and beautiful. As he looked at her he felt his own lost youth-through her he crazily felt he could regain it. It was a forbidden thought, but he could not stop it. He did not believe that he should allow the conversation to drift any further in the direction in which it was drifting. They were moving into dangerous territory. She was a desirable girl. He could tell that he had stopped some very heavy petting between Dianne and the boy. He had probably come home as the girl was close to gaining a release, in some way or another. He could only guess how far the boy had gotten with her. It was obvious from her heated state that the boy had gotten pretty far, though.
Dianne suddenly giggled wildly, her eyes dilated. She pivoted before him, her miniskirt swirling out and up above her stocking tops. Ben watched her crazy display of herself with a feeling of excitement and a quick tightening in his crotch. When she saw the look of admiration on his face she preened for him, like a model.
"You're an awful nice guy," she purred.
With those words she walked boldly over to him, looking stunningly feminine and exuding sexual excitement. She enjoyed the way his eyes were following her. She rolled her hips and walked toward him suggestively. Ben found her nearly irresistible. She sat down on his lap and cuddled close, rubbing her cheek against his.
"You're such a nice guy," she whispered.
Ben felt the full impact of her young, delicious curves. He could feel the soft, firm pressure of her buttocks as she shifted herself on his lap, cuddling herself closer. She had sat on his lap before, as Tara had, but now it was different. Now it wasn't like uncle and niece. Now it was man and girl, charged with sexual electricity. He had to stop this, and quickly.
"You'd better go to bed now," he said evenly.
"Alone?" she purred.
"What?" he said, not believing his ears.
"Well, I just asked," she pouted prettily, cuddling close on his lap. "Tom got me pretty excited. He made me do things for him," she lied.
Her words and her physical closeness greatly disturbed Ben.
"You'd better go to bed, Dianne."
"In a minute. It's so nice and cozy on your lap. And I want to tell you things..."