Chapter 6
Late Friday afternoon, Scott flung his front door open in answer to frantic ringing of the bell Marsha stood leaning against the wall, still pressing the bell button. She looked like she had been in a barroom brawl. Her left tit stood surre-alistically bobbing through a gaping hole in her blouse. Her mini-skirt was torn up the side from waist to hem. She wore only one shoe, and her hair was a disheveled mess.
"My God, Marsha-come in-what happened to you? You look like heU!B
Marsha fell into his arms, and buried her face in his neck. "Oh Scott, Scott, just hold me for a moment," she pleaded. "Ill be all right-I-I just want to be close to real, laughing, loving people again. Let me stay here for awhile-please."
Scott led her gently to the couch and sat down with her. She held on to him like a drowning swimmer holding on to a life preserver. Her teeth chattered, her whole body trembled.
Sylvia came out of the kitchen and cried, "Marsha, darling, what's the matter?"
Marsha was sobbing now, her body convulsing wildly as she let it all come out. Scott motioned for Sylvia to sit down and leave their sister-in-law alone until she had gotten herself together. After five minutes, Marsha lurched to her feet, stumbled drunkenly into the bathroom, and they heard her vomiting into the stool. When she came out fifteen minutes later, she had combed and brushed her hair, washed and freshly made up her face, and except for her ruined clothing and red, swollen eyes, she looked as cute and sassy as ever.
"God, I needed that," she grinned crookedly. "I had to let it all out, the bawling, the barfing-I felt like-like a waking cesspool."
"Ill fix you a drink," Sylvia volunteered. "Ill fix us all one, and you can tell us about it-if you want to."
"Oh, it's all so horrible," Marsha said with a shudder. "I thought that nobody in the world enjoyed sex more than I do-not even you two-but if this keeps up, I'll be turned against it for life. I got fucked today by eighteen different men-a whole crew of a highway department work gang."
"What? You were gang raped?" Scott questioned in alarm. "Well do something about this, let's. . ."
"No-no, I wasn't exactly raped," Marsha cut in; "it was all my fault-I have only myself to blame."
"Just take it easy and tell us what happened," Sylvia said, bringing the drinks and sitting in an easy chair opposite her pretty sister-in-law and her handsome husband.
"You know that strip of road they are blacktop-ping out toward Cedar Creek?" Marsha began.
"Yes, between here and Copton," Scott answered.
"Well, I was headed for Copton to try to get picked up by some man-or men. I couldn't go prowling here, because of the Felton name-everybody knows us. And if I had waited for Chet to get enough of Sue and Thea to get around to me, I wouldn't even have gotten a good fuck yet, let alone been knocked up. But well go into that later; let me tell you what happened today.
"Only one lane is open to traffic on that Cedar Creek stretch of road, and when the flag man stopped me, he stepped over to my car to say something to me. I'll never know what he wanted to say, because when he looked in the window, my skirt was up past my crotch, I wasn't wearing panties, and he suddenly lost his power of speech."
Sylvia giggled in spite of herself.
"He was a young, handsome stud," Marsha went on, "and I was on fire-my pussy was smoking. So I asked him if he didn't know of a cool, shady place where a lady could relax for awhile. He pointed out the side road leading to their crew trailer a couple of hundred yards up in the woods, and told me that he would be there just as soon as he could get somebody to relieve him. He came in about ten minutes, and that's the time it took for him to come-period-about ten minutes. I forgot that I was out for business, not pleasure, and I told him to send me up a couple more guys, because I wanted to come, too. And that was my first mistake.
"Instead of two, four guys came, and by the time they were finished, there was a long line at the door. I couldn't enjoy it, I couldn't come-not with a single one of them. They were filthy, sweaty. They took me like-like animals-like a pack of male dogs taking a bitch in heat. I thought I would vomit, faint, just from the stink in that trailer. I pleaded, I cried, I begged them to let me go. But they kept coming back, for seconds, thirds. They fucked me in the ass, made me suck their cocks-took me two and three at the time.''
"Oh my God," Sylvia said sympathetically, "you poor thing."
For a moment Scott and Sylvia thought that Marsha was going to break down again, but she managed to pull herself together.
"When they finally let me go, I started home, but I just couldn't go back there," Marsha said pathetically. "I had to come and talk to you two; you two seem to be the only sane ones left in the family. Sure that money is important to us, there's no sense in denying that, and having a baby is no big thing, but no amount of money is going to make up for what is happening to us."
"That's what Sylvia and I were worried about," Scott said; "that's why I tried to talk to both Chet and Carl, but neither of them would listen to me. Both of them thought I wanted to cut them out of some of the money."
"I know, I was right there when you talked to Chet, remember? He's my husband, and I love him dearly, but I'm losing my ability to understand him. We're not swingers like you and Syl, we'd only done it with you two, and you know how much we loved it. But Chet stopped the action because he was worried about the purity and morality of his precious daughters. He was afraid they would find out. That's why he insisted that we stop seeing you two altogether; he just knew that neither of you would hesitate to seduce Thea and Sue."
"He couldn't have been more wrong," Chet and Sylvia said at the same time.
"I know, I know. The day that you called, as you well know, he was fucking Thea when the phone rang. When he got through talking to you, he went into a long spiel about how phony, hypocritical, and perverted you were-especially the perverted bit. By now, though, Thea was on her knees before the couch, sucking Susy's cunt. Chet looked at them, and his cock jumped stone hard.
"Still cutting you to pieces, he calmly walked over, dropped to his own knees, and fucked Thea from behind. He knows that both of our girls love you two dearly. They've begged to be allowed to visit, or at least talk to you on the phone, and he has steadfastly refused. Since he was already on your case, he took that particular opportunity, while he was fucking his fifteen-year-old daughter into a shivering fit, to remind them both that he would kill them if they ever mentioned your name in his presence again. What am I going to do, Scott, what are we going to do?"
"There isn't much that we can do, as long as Chet and Carl feel the way they do," Scott replied. "Our door is always open, we love you all, and we'll always be here for any of you when we are needed, but we can't perform miracles. I only hope that after this is all over, the damage won't be irreparable. I know you grownups can handle it, but what about the girls? That's what worries me.
"Me, too," Marsha concurred. "My girls were normal, healthy, happy teenagers. Susan was fucking with my and Chefs approval, and we knew that Thea was hot to trot. The way Chet and I love sex, we were both in agreement that they have a happy, free, permissive sex life once they were old enough. But not like this-not like this."
"I wonder how Betty is managing," Sylvia put in. "Carl is even more hung-up than Chet is, and he's also more greedy and neurotic. Liz and Janey both have sex on the brain, and in spite of Carl's forbidding them to see us, both of them are often over here bragging about their sexual conquests and abilities. They have both point-blank propositioned us, and we have both point-blank refused them. Maybe those two can handle it, but I don't think Pat can. She is too sensitive, too intelligent, free, and loving to be put on the block like this."
"She's holding out," Marsha said. "She's talked to Susan and me. Carl has several out-of-town men in the house, there for the express purpose of getting Betty and the girls pregnant. I haven't heard from her in a couple of days, but the last time she called, she was in hysterics, begging me to help her-tell her what to do."
"If she calls again, tell her to come over here," Scott said without hesitation. "Carl will play hell getting her away from us. I won't go over there and get her, I have no right, but goddamn it, if she can manage to make it this far, she's home free."
"I feel so much better now that I've talked to you beautiful people," Marsha sighed, relaxed from her drink, smiling for the first time since she had arrived. "Oh God, what I'd give to have it like it was a few years ago, when you two horny, insatiable nuts were teaching me what real fun, crazy, loving sex was all about I haven't eaten pussy since you, Syl, and now every time I see Thea and Susy going at it, my tongue actually itches."
"If you can't lick 'em, join 'em," Scott chuckled, "or I guess in this case it would be, if you can join em, lick 'em."
"Believe me, I've thought about it," Marsha said, "and I've wanted to so badly that I ached. Both of them have got the prettiest, juiciest, most succulent-looking little pussies imaginable. I don't blame Chet for getting hooked on them. But-but I just can't. It's not the morality-the incest-that bothers me, it's just the unnaturalness of this entire situation. There's no real giving of one's self-no real love involved."
Sylvia never wore panties or a bra. Even before they were married, she had burned all she owned when Scott told her that he never wanted to catch her wearing either. Now she was dressed in a simple, sleeveless, light blue mini-dress. The sides and the deep cleft of her gigantic, miraculously unsagging tits were clearly visible.
She had been sitting opposite Scott and Marsha on the circular, sectional couch with her long, lovely legs crossed high, revealing the smooth, curving lines of one ass cheek. Casually she uncrossed her legs and lifted one up and over the arm of the couch. She was incredibly hairy. A thick, silky, black bush nestled in either armpit, and a veritable jungle of tangled black curls all but obscured her long-lipped, thick-lipped cunt.
Sitting like this, though, with the pull of her leg forcing the lips apart, nothing was left to the imagination. The hairs that started in the deep, slitted pool of her navel and ran in ever increasing abundance down the insides of her thighs, and up the crack of her ass, acted only as a frame for the lust-enflaming picture of raw, naked womanhood that met Chet and Marsha's desire-bugged eyes.
"Oh God, Sylvia, don't-I-I c-can't stand it," Marsha stammered weakly, licking her lips, involuntarily straining forward, as though being drawn by an irresistible magnet.
"I'm not trying to upset you, darling," Sylvia said in her deep, musical, contralto voice; "this is for my baby. He loves to look at my cunt, and I love for him to look at it; it turns us both on."
"Then let's give him two to look at," Marsha said, leaping up and simply ripping her already torn clothing the rest of the way from her body. "If one turns him on, two should double his pleasure."
Hopping blithely on the couch beside her sister-in-law, Marsha sat with her feet up on the cushion, her knees spread as wide apart as she could get them. Turning their torsos to face each other, looping one arm around the other's neck, the two oddly matched, physically contrasting women dropped the other hand to each other's crotch.
Scott did not seem to be overly interested in the scene before him. Looking at the two lovelies with a warm, casual smile on his sensual lips, he calmly stood and shucked the only garment he was wearing, a pair of beltless slacks, down his long, hairy legs, and sat back down. His breathing was normal; he sipped his drink as though he were fully clothed at a cocktail party. Only the up-curving, left-leaning ten-inch stalk of his mushroom-headed cock bore testimony to his almost uncontainable excitement.
Sylvia oozed sex from every pore. She looked like a million-dollar-a-trick call girl, uncannily beautiful, depraved, jaded, ultra-ultra-sophisticated. In comparison, the tiny, almost impishly childish-looking Marsha had the appearance of a
Bottecelli angel. She looked pure, virginal, untouched by human tongue, cock, or hands.
The inner lips of Sylvia's cunt poked out from between the outer lips like a fat, wrinkled, impertinent tongue. They were almost black in their purplish, blood-engorged readiness. Her thick, meaty clit looked like a miniature cock, standing fat and sassy above her long, pink, slimy gash. Marsha's pussy looked like a little girl's, heart shaped, fat lipped, almost closed, with only her clit's tip peeking shyly out. Her reddish hairs were thick at her crotch, but her pussy lips were almost bare.
The two women kissed like long-lost lovers reunited. Their tongues danced, darted, tangled in and out of each other's wet, drooling mouth. They licked each other's face, stuck their tongue tips up each other's nose, stuck them out as far as they would go, and let them wrestle, duel, entwine for the pleasure and titillation of their one-man audience.
Sylvia's practiced, experienced fingers were twirling about Marsha's now prominently swollen clit, sliding up and down her streaming slit, dancing in and out of her tiny, swollen love hole. Marsha seesawed three stiffened fingers in and out of Sylvia's hot, juicy cunt. They paused now and then to lift their wet and dripping fingers to their mouths, to have them licked clean of the sweet, slimy love juice by both tongues.
Now Marsha shoved all four fingers in to the hilt, with only her thumb outside, whirling like a propeller over the knob of Sylvia's palpitating, pulsating love bud. On an impulse, she pulled her fingers out to the tips, folded her thumb into the middle of her palm, and smoothly shoved her entire hand into the tightly, wetly stretching woman channel.
Scott's breathing was no longer regular and normal; he no longer calmly sipped his drink. He sat straining forward, bug-eyed, breathing in gulping, panting gasps as Marsha began fist-fucking his panting, moaning wife. Slowly at first, shoving her tiny fist in only to the wrist, and halfway out, then speeding up the tempo and increasing the depth on every stroke, Marsha was driving in halfway to her elbow.
"Oh God-oh God-oh God!" Sylvia screamed. "Harder-deeper-shove it in my cunt to your elbow, darling. Fuck me-fuck meee-harder HARDER!"
With a roar of boundless lust, Scott leaped up from the couch, lifted his tiny sister-in-law bodily into the air, and sliding both arms under her thighs to clamp his hands over her back, smashed her entire bottom into his face.
Marsha was hanging upside down now, her fist and forearm still buried and stroking in the very depths of Sylvia's sexual soul, her trembling thighs spread flat out to either side of Chet's face, as the big man sucked and licked her from clit to asshole-from asshole to clit.
Both women were now screaming wildly, hysterically, out of their minds with ecstasy and lust.
Pitching, tossing, slamming her magnificent ass up off the couch to suck in more of Marsha's jack-hammering fist, Sylvia somehow managed to twist around, lean forward, crane her neck, and engulf Chet's bobbing, throbbing, bone-hard cock in her voraciously hungry jaws.
Hunching forward to help her in her efforts to eat the whole thing, Scott shoved it down her gulping throat, pulled back, and socked it to her again, cock-fucking her in the mouth as viciously, mercilessly, thrillingly as Marsha was fist-fucking her cunt.
Time stood still as the oddly positioned menage d trois gave to and received from each other pleasure that none of them had ever known. Opening her hand inside Sylvia's slick, clinging cavern, Marsha fanned her fingers, tickled her womb, hit, fondled, massaged spots that had never been touched before. Sucking and licking as though his very life depended upon draining her of all of her juices, Chet tongue-fucked, lip-fucked, face-fucked Marsha's entire genital area, and then some. He licked the insides of her thighs, up and down the crack of her ass, drove his tongue into her asshole like a fleshy dagger, sucked her cunt hole almost wrong side out.
Sylvia suckingly massaged every centimeter of Chet's driving, pounding cock with tongue, lips, and jaws. Even her tonsils seemed to come into play, flicking across the invading shaft on each powerful, thundering plunge into and out of her gullet.
Their multiple, simultaneous orgasm could have only been measured in megatons; their triple-tongued screams of completion and heart-stopping ecstasy were deafening. Chet dropped Marsha to the floor and sank weakly to his knees. Sylvia flopped backward on the couch and held onto her heart with both hands to keep it from pounding through her rib cage.
Looking up at her relatives with love and adoration in her eyes, and a crooked, impetuous grin on her doll-like face, Marsha cooed softly, "Thanks, I needed that"