Chapter 8
Jill wondered whether it was because she hadn't seen her brother in five days and she had to re-accustom herself to him-or whether he really was acting strangely with her. Of course there had been an extra person at lunch-Wendy, her housekeeper-and they were not used to being together, lately, with other people.
When Wendy left, she told Christopher that he seemed cold. They were sitting in the living room and he had put his arm on the sofa behind Jill's neck. "I do?" he answered, innocently enough. "I'm sorry," he continued, in the tone of someone who would be, except that he doesn't know for what to be regretful.
"Maybe it was Wendy," she said, and she noticed the strange look that came into her brothers eye. "Did you mind her having lunch with us? I didn't think you would."
"No. Really."
She thought a moment, and a smile spread across her face. "Do you think she's attractive, Chris?" That would explain, of course, his discomfort.
"Sort of."
"Would you like to fuck her."
"What?" Christopher blushed beet red.
"You heard what I said. "I-I-"
"I talked to her once about sex a few months ago. She's really quite liberal about it. I thought I saw her give you some funny looks. Maybe she's attracted to you."
"But what are you talking about, sis? You and I-"
"Well, I'm not the jealous type." She stroked her upper lip with the tip of her tongue. "In fact... I'd sort of like to-" here she giggled, touching his wrist with her fingertips-"I'd like to watch."
Christopher's eyes widened. And, though he did not quite know why, his breath and pulse quickened, At the back of his skull he sensed a nervous throb.
"That time she sort of hinted that she... did it with women, too."
Christopher had begun to consider himself a man of the world, what with his recent sexual success, but both Wendy's alleged homosexuality and Jill's ap-parant tolerance of it shocked him. "Do you mean that?" he asked.
'Well, I think that's what she meant."
"Do you-" He blushed again, and he found he could not finish the sentence.
"You're asking me whether I want to make love to her?"
"I-yes, I mean."
"Well, no. I mean, I'm not a lesbian." She paused and seemed to purr as she took his hand by the wrist and led him to the slope of her breast. "You of all people should know that." She continued: "But I thought she might even like to have me watch. We could both-Wendy and I-make love to you at the same time."
Now the only way Chris could get rid of his incredible hard-on was to fuck his sister there on the living room couch. He didn't want to appear overanxious, but he wondered whether he should tell Jill that he'd already screwed Wendy. For a second the thought passed through his mind that Jill was testing him-that ,she really was jealous of Wendy-but he dismissed the idea. Still, he couldn't tell her of the time he'd been with her housekeeper because Jill had a way of liking to "boss" or to "plan." Most of the time, she preferred to be the aggressor.
"Yes," she went on, and put her hand on his lap just above his soaring member, "I can tell you'd like that. You haven't been this big in a long time." She squeezed him for good measure, and he thought the cock's head would explode with come. Some of the dog-water seeped out and dampened the front flap of his briefs. She stuck three fingertips into the scrotum, and Chris rubbed his ass against the couch.
His sister got up. She was wearing a pants suit, the trousers of which were loose. She wore a thick, silk sash through the belt loops. It was this that she now untied before slipping out of the pants.
"What are those? What happened? Were you in an accident?" Chris' eyes widened at the bruises that covered his sister's body. His heart beat fast with concern for her.
"Sort of." Jill had wondered a hundred times in the last few days whether she should tell Chris what David had done to her. But it was only at this moment that she made her decision. Actually, it was no decision at all; unable to make up her mind, she merely told the truth. "David hit me."
"Hit you? You mean he beat you up."
"Yes." She had debated whether to tell him the truth because she was unsure of how he would react. Would he want to hurt David in return? But now it appeared he was merely shocked; it was hard for him to believe that his brother-in-law (whom he'd always liked) had done such a thing to his sister.
"Oh, Sis." He stood up, but his mind was reeling; it was hard to keep his balance. He put his palm gently on the small of her back and with his other hand he brought her head down on his shoulders. At the same time he felt the chill of her quivering flesh against his legs while the trousers lay crumpled at her ankles. Jill did not know why, but somehow she liked the pressure of his limbs on her bruises and welts; it made her relish the pain.
Christopher felt his eyes welling with tears, but he could not bring himself to cry; he should be strong, he told himself, in order to comfort his sister. "Why?" he asked her, his voice cracking.
She could not tell him that, Jill knew. He would feel guilty as though he himself had done the whipping. 'We had an argument-just a silly little argument about the children. He was drunk. Otherwise he never would have done it."
"Poor Jill. Poor baby." As though she were a child to be comforted he patted her shoulders and her back just below her neck. "What can I do?" His voice sounded to Jill quite helpless and suddenly she felt sorry for him.
Her grin, as she raised her face to look into his eyes, was one of mischief. "Make love to me." She watched his serious, pained demeanor change while his grip as he held her above the buttocks tightened and his thumbs pressed on the fleshy sides of her waist.
"Here?" He looked down at the couch.
"The bed would be more comfortable," she suggested. Because of the discomfort caused by the bruises, Jill was rather sensitive and she wanted this fuck to be as easy as possible.
He waited for a moment. "Would you like me to carry you?" He knew she was more than able to walk, but Chris wanted some way of showing the tenderness he felt toward her.
She laughed. "If you want to." She almost blushed as he picked her up; she was impressed by his strength; he seemed to move her effortlessly. Her trousers still stayed at her bare ankles and he had her ass cradled in his arms. His fingers poked her flesh through cotton panties. She knew she was going moist inside when she pressed the walls of her quim together.
He walked past the threshold of the master bedroom and he lay her down on the bed where she slept with David. The soft blanket soothed her sore ass and she spread her legs apart invitingly. Chris, still standing, walked to the foot of the bed and pulled the pants off her legs, then draped them over the back of the chair at Jill's dressing table. On her back, his sister unbuttoned the vest top of the outfit and then the blouse below it. She had taken-since her affair with Christopher began-to wearing bras only infrequently, but this, unfortunately, was one of the days she had chosen to.
The blouse and the vest lay open, parted around a swath of tanned female skin and the inner rims of two lacy white bra cups. At the center of the cups, just hidden, were Jill's ripe nipples. She breathed deeply and the jugs rose.
She pushed her soles into the bed and her ass came off the mattress. "Pull them down for me, will 'ya, hon?" Obediently Chris ran the silk-like material down her slim legs, staring as he did at the hairy vortex of her body and feeling the sun-bleached bristle of leg hair on his fingertips. He felt a spurt of energy in the root of his prick, inside the scrotum, when he passed the underwear over the balls of her heels.
"Come here, baby, and love me," she said, raising her arms as if to embrace him. As he put his hands on the bed at her sides, his shirt clung to his back and the slight chill reminded him that the Los Angeles heat made him perspire heavily.
One of the things that was most characteristic about the way his sister made love was that when he would press his mouth down on hers to kiss her, her lips would always be parted much wider than his own. His tongue fell into the soft, wet pit and curled around hers as she ran her lower teeth along his lower lip. She pressed her fingers into his neck and shoved her naked groin into his stomach, forcing the prick's shaft up against his navel. Her nudity was waisted on his dungarees, so Jill pulled on his zipper and extricated the member, sore with excitement and pumping semen.
Her fingernails scratched his belly and he bucked his hips back in response. Now she took the cock and bent it to the slash. She was dry there, but a drop of gism was deposited just on the hole. With her other hand she spread the moisture over her cunt flaps, unable to stop herself from stroking her clitoris on the way.
His hands pushed between the sides of her opened vest and her unbuttoned blouse. He squeezed the melons inside their holsters. "I thought you didn't wear them any more," he said.
"This blouse looks better if I wear one," she said, calmly. Her spine arched so that his hands could slip under and unclasp the straps. "There," she sighed comfortably when the hands, moving back under arms, caressed the sides of the breasts. Her flesh was cool and dry and the jugs pliable.
"Aren't you going to get undressed on top?" he asked her, surprised when she made no motion to do so.
'It's too hot for all that effort," she laughed, and he didn't know whether or not to take her seriously. "Besides, I kind of like the idea of fucking when I'm still half dressed. I just had you undo the bra because it would be more comfortable." She paused, and her tongue tip wiped her upper hp, making it gleam. "Besides," she said, tightening her grip on his penis, "I've got all of you that I need right now."
He felt her pulling on the dong with her fingers as though she wanted to rip the head off. She was leading him to the slot, but she was still unlubricated. She flicked her own clit with the fleshy dork head and he had to put his hand to the beaver to see that it had swelled to erection.
He slid his finger to the hole itself and inserted it to the first knuckle. She wasn't really wet, but the muscle had loosened. She was operating her pelvis almost mechanically as if she were jacking herself off on his hand. He pulled the bone from the twat and stroked the labia. He put his mouth to her breast. She thrust her breast up into his mouth while he sucked on the tit, twisting his tongue over the grainy surface of the areola.
His right hand pressed at her stomach at the same time she pushed her pud into his other hand. He was flicking the clitoris, rubbing it with the moisture his finger had drawn from her pussy.
She opened her mouth and her tongue stroked the corner of her lips. He faced her and started to kiss her violently. Her tongue was like a snake, snarling about his own, trying to suck him in and pour him down her throat.
Two fingers plowed past the labia and filled her hole, greasy now. Jill's body snapped first above the waist and then below it. Her breast flesh quivered with her excitement as her brother finger-fucked her. She pressed her vaginal muscles together and pushed the head of his instrument into her soft, hairless thigh.
Again he put the underside of the prick against the beaver-muff. The lips moved under the shaft, wiggling, and the clit puffed as the insides of the snatch moistened. He shoved the head into the clit so hard that Jill groaned. She took the staff halfway down and pushed up on the soles of her feet. He entered her in a single stroke and the lubricated tissue separated at the insertion. He pushed the clothing on her breasts to the side, then dragged the bra hoops to her midriff and left them there. He squashed them anew each time he came down on her to drive his cock all-the way through the vagina.
She grabbed him around the waist and held him tight Her pussy felt hot and the glow was spreading to her stomach, to her ass, to her breasts-where the tits were as hard as scarlet diamonds. Sloppily, he swung his face down to the left nipple and smeared it wetly with the end of his tongue. The little budlets inside stiffened and waited for a second stroke of the tongue, but this went instead to the other breast. Before leaving the melon, he scraped the underside with the edges of his lower front teeth, leaving a scratch with the point of the canine tooth.
She was so wet now there was almost no friction in the box. Jill had to make up for it by raising her legs up off the bed and squeezing her brother with them. Then she squirmed from side to side and her hold on the organ was perfect. She teased his scrotum, pulling down on the bag with the flat of her thumb and the tip of her forefinger, and then she nearly drove him crazy with the way her nails scraped the wrinkled juice-bag.
Chris' eyes were closed and his half-open mouth signaled his nearness to climax. The spaces between his ecstatic gasps grew shorter and Jill was sure the cock itself momentarily expanded inside the hole. His palms were on the bed and only their groins were attached; he was inches off her breast and face. She squeezed her own boobs, rubbing the insides of her hands on the taut nipples. "Uh-uh-uh...." she moaned gutturally while he socked the whang forward. Her own orgasm was coming on. She let go of her tits and clamped her hands around his shoulders. She let the power of his orgasm pass through her and the heat of his semen electrified the lining of the cunt.
Her heels had been pressing into the backs of her brother's calves, but now her lower limbs swung out while she twisted on the shaft buried in her oily cavity. She was like a wild cat clawing a pole for balance; the only thing that mattered was whether or not she could hold on. Her quim was an efficient instrument keeping the steadily pumping male organ within her like a vacuum, draining from it-for her own pleasure-his gooey semenal emission.
Satisfied, her body coiled lazily around her brother's. Her legs, which had snapped out, now came in, bending at the knees, and wrapped themselves around the lower part of his nearly lifeless body. His erection loosened immediately after the last spurt of gism and he pulled out almost in time to the strokes of coitus. His deflating penis lay wet and rumpled in her soggy bush as he collapsed his weight on her breasts. She sighed, and though he cupped one breast in his hand, the surface of the areola was now flaccid. The come started to seep from her distended hole, wetting the sheet below her sprawled legs.
She squeezed the withered cock affectionately, then let it go, smiling to herself at the way the touch of it left her palm sticky. Her brother rolled off her and looked blankly at the ceiling; his body still expanded and shrank with the huge lungfuls of air he was taking in.
Christopher blushed crimson with shame. All the time he had been coming, he had been thinking not of his sister-but of Wendy.