Chapter 5

Dixie Carr heard the light tap at her bedroom door and called, "Come in."

"Hi, Mommy. You busy?"

"Kitty! How nice. With the men out for a change, I'm the un-busiest I've been in weeks. Wasn't Barry awful at supper?"

"Nerves, I guess. This is the elimination meet for who gets to try out for state championship in Class C weight lifting."

Dixie appraised her welcome arrival interestedly. For the weeks that she spent at home and during the time when she began graduate work, she had hoped her daughter would come for a girl-visit. There was no use in hurrying her; the two of them were as different as day and night-her platinum silver and Kitty's near black hair was only the beginning of the difference. One thing was fierce between them and that was a tender love seldom spoken of in Kitty's twenty-two years, but quietly acknowledged.

In moments the two were engrossed in a long delayed conversation about the intimacies of the nightmare of Kitty's two years with Arnold. When her mother broke down in tears with the recounting of the wedding night orgy, Kitty herself dissolved, and for the first time since she walked away from the kinky pathologist, let herself go. For long, wonderful reuniting moments the two women clung to each other, letting the tears flow and giving vent to the intensity of their feeling for each other. When Kitty pushed from their embrace and started to leave the bed, Dixil caught the sleeve of her daughters peignoir and begged her not to go.

"Oh, dear ... I'm sorry!" The yellow satin gown pulled open as the sash cord gave, and before Kitty could catch it the robe spilled from her shoulder. "How lovely you are!" exclaimed an admiring Dixil. "Don't leave ... we needn't talk about Arnold any more, if you don't want to. It's just so good to have you home."

Kitty smiled. "You don't know how good it is to be home and not have to be putting on a show for a man who doesn't love you. I get wild inside feelings since I've come back to all this love in my family and realize I left it to be with that creep. I don't even feel like I have to hide my body around you and when the boys see me runnin' around in my scanties, they whistle, but it's a nice whistle."

Dixil reached to cup an arm across the naked shoulder, tracing a lock of hair, then sensuously walking her fingers up her daughter's back; "You know, when you were talking about those two girls . . . who were they ...? Angela and ... Paula ... I got all goose bumps listening, even if they were part of an awful wedding night. But they weren't awful to you themselves, were they?"

"They were really pretty sweet. In fact, I found that I like a woman to touch me and I don't even feel strange in admitting that it bothers me."

Dixil pulled her hand away from its gentie caress of Kitty's shoulders. "It's so different, your generation and mine. You're so honest about things that we . . . well, we weren't always honest about."

"Such as?"

"This." Dixil's hand drifted to the button securing her peignoir and the translucent shortie gown drifted open, exposing her front to Kitty's wide-eyed surprise. "I really think it's the first time except around your Dad that I've ever been seen like this. It feels strange."

"What a waste!" exclaimed Kitty. "Everyone should see how a woman can stay ravishing after forty."

"Shhh ... I'm staying thirty-five. Daddy hates it, because he's forty-five." Dixil wilted back against the pillow and watched Kitty's curious study of her torso. "I'm getting soft." , "Oh, I wish I could get soft like that! I'm big upstairs and I'm weird downstairs."

"Whatever do you mean? You come by your breasts naturally, but what do you mean weird downstairs?" The intimacy of their conversation was clearly stimulating to Dixil and she wondered if the goose bumps on her arms showed as much as the tumid stiffness of her nipples. Oddly she still felt perfectly comfortable with Kitty's staring at her lower body. She was proud of her care for herself and enjoyed the curious twitching that plagued her cunty lips as her daughter looked at her most intimate part.

"You'n Daddy have been together thousands of times, I bet," envied Kitty out loud. "Do you keep count how often you do it?"

Dixil squirmed leisurely on the satin sheet. "I just count when we don't do it. Your Dad is a very highly sexed man and that's the kind we have got to find for you next time."

"Hummpphh! I'm going to be an old maid by choice, after Arnold. The only men I get any vibrations to are around this house and that's illegal."

Dixil studied her daughter thoughtfully, saw the trickle emerge at the corner of her eye and slide down her cheek, and reached impulsively to hug Kitty close. There was a clear sensual electricity exchanged at the pressure of their breasts, but this time Dixil made no move to break the contact. She tilted Kitty's face toward hers and leaned to kiss her tenderly on the forehead.

"If I understood you, and I did, then I think you have every right to feel the vibrations you do and let them feel good. Is it Daddy ... or Barry ..

Kitty trembled slightly in the cuddly arms and wormed closer to Dixil's body, remembering the fun of the play in that almost forgotten wedding chalet when Paula and Angela led her in to her first lesbian embraces. "It's all of them, Mommy. I look at the boys and I look at Daddy and I feel excited and I get damp even sometimes wishin'..."

"Darling, don't let it frighten you! You ought to let yourself go. Here's a switch from the older generation. I'd love to see you and Daddy get lots closer and I mean that. He'd be so good for you to ... well, how do I not get misunderstood . .. ? it would be just nice to see you get off together, or the three of us cozy up watching TV some night ... and the same for the boys. Darling, you've earned some sweet affection after the beast. Tell me about him some more, can you? Didn't he ever make any normal love to you? You know, just straight copu ... well, I mean, didn't you ever just fuck?"

It was a new word on Dixil's lips that Kitty had never heard there before and it seemed a symbol for the new Mommy she never had known.

"Never once in just man to woman, one-to-one love. It always had to have someone else involved, or it had to be someone else doing it to me while he got his fun with his hand ... or"... or ..." The tears were welling again. "Would you believe, he was the greatest with other girls, but he made me feel like half a woman!"

A long wrenching sob grabbed deep in Dixil's throat at the agony of her daughter and she clung tightly to the shaking shoulders, wishing she could kill Arnold Graber for his offense to Kitty. She remembered the years of wild hetero love night after night with Stewart. The way he was lately abruptly stabbed into her thoughts. Her husband had lost the urgency, and no one had to tell Dixil how that would have felt if he had been like Arnold early in their marriage.

Now she could stand the lapses of interest and blame it on the business problems or on maybe his own aging, but how it must have been for Kitty for those two unholy years! Maybe, just maybe Stewart and Barry and even Dennis could awaken normal passions in Kitty again. Maybe...

A sizzling excitement traveled through Dixil's frame at that instant as Kitty's hand drifted low across her back and caressed lightly over the curve of her tail.

"You have a divine figure, Mommy, and you .know it, too." The hand crept along the crease in her buttocks, then slid over the rounding of her hip and Dixil knew the crunch of desire. Woman-for-woman desire.

Not since that time at college, there in that dorm with her heartbroken roommate, had Dixil Carr yielded to the provocation of another female's body. At college, even as now in her bedroom, another girl was in the depths of despair and reaching for comfort. Dixil had offered it and the comfort had turned to mutual seduction. -

At twenty Dixie had been the prisoner of lesbian passion for eight unforgettable hours. At forty-two she was not about to repeat that surrender that had given her so many restless nights remembering.

"I adore your bod," whispered the voice half-buried in the curve of her breast. "I've always loved the way you sort of exude a 'take me, take me' air, Mommy. Did you know when I stopped thinking of you as really my mother?" Kitty hurried on, lest she be stopped. "When I saw the way you just paralyzed all the men at my nursing graduation ball."

"You're teasing!"

"No, I'm not. You wore that sleek, wet-look floor-length dress and it was as platinum as your hair. And you wore nothing under but a soft bra and everything from your super boobs with your ten-penny nail nipples standin' out at the middle and your gorgeous vee that showed how much you loved to play down there and oh, I've secretly called you Dixie ever since. You aren't Mommy ... you aren't Dixil ... you're Dixie, cause you always make me want to look south of the border."

Peals of laughter split the room as the two rolled in helpless hysteria at kitty's nickname. The thought that her own daughter had looked at her with frank-sexual leanings, that she admired her physically at forty-two, that she had hungering for her own father and maybe at least one brother, was compounded trauma that left Dixil weak from alternate crying and helpless laughing.

"So ... so ... call me Dixie!" she squealed, starting to resist the arms thrown round her shoulders, then surrendering to the disturbingly intimate need of a deeply distressed Kitty. The joke had washed away and they lay snugly entwined against each other's bodies, neither knowing how or when the peignoir slipped completely from Dixil or the satin totally from Kitty's frame. All at once they were moving slowly, rhythmically against each other, pubic mound snug against pubic mound and breasts mashing in delicious provocation.

"Dixie ... I love that," cooed Kitty, feeling that same dizzied sensation she had known whenever she played with Paula or Angela. "Dixil seems mannish and Mommy is for long ago days, but you feel like Dixie."

Deep and penetrating, far into her vagina the vibrations were stirring in Dixil. She closed her eyes and she was back in the dorm in Massachusetts and giving herself to an illicit pleasure, at least, so she had been bred. And now that tingling was back, as fresh as if the twenty-two years since last she felt it were only twenty-two minutes. The power of tenderness from another female, even her own daughter, with its promise of a gently probing tongue and with its present thrill of sweetly bound bodies, proved too much for her.

"Oh, Kitty, darling . . ." Low and powerful the orgasm crept deep into Dixil's loins and there was nothing in her strength of will to stop it. Like some tidal wave, not visibly shoved by any hand, the engulfing emotion was paralyzing a helplessly welcoming woman. To shriek it to a stop, tear herself from Kitty's arms and end what had rolled so fast so deep, would be obscene. She let herself go, feeling the spasms rack her lower body and ripple into the luscious girl grinding in merciless pelvic thrusts to deepen the climax.

"My God ... my God ... oh, I mustn't . . ." The waves of Dixil's spontaneous spunk madness kept rolling and cresting, finally, deliriously slowly, quieting. Incredulous chagrin captured her. She had been in sexual climax in the arms . . . not because of the arms ... of her own daughter. It never had been her intention.

Kitty was staring into her face when Dixil opened her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I made you come, 'cause I felt myself coming. You didn't know it was you who started us both, did you?"

Dixil shook her head and platinum hair moved listlessly as if as much in defeat as its wearer. "Like dominoes, weren't we?"

"You were radiant, Dixie." There was something predatory in Kitty's stare. "Your bod is like a girl in her twenties and when you were winging it you were all pink and sunshiny and your nipples-honestly! They were an inch long!"

"Winging it . . . ?" Dixil's musing look puzzled Kitty. "Where have I heard that?"

"I heard it back with Arnold the kink. He thought he invented it for one of his best gang-bangs for his wife."

"Kitty!" Dixil drew her gown across her shoulders and wished her daughter would do the same. Hard to forget when deep within, the lure was to let go and play lesby wild. She had to control herself, Dixil insisted to her conscience. Her daughter had had a heterosexual debacle and any homosexual play now could for all time destroy her interest in men. "Do you mean that Arnold actually forced you to sex acts with other men?"

"He was very big on displaying me to company. When I refused at first, he was very ready with the whip." Kitty stretched and hefted her right breast at the same time, displaying a fine line just under the curve of the boob. "That one drew blood and I was converted, believe me."

"What did he make you do?"

"He really did call it 'winging it.' After his midnight cocktail party was well lubricated, he'd order me up the stairs to the bedroom and all the guests would gather with their drinks in the huge foyer around the staircase to wave me off. Most of them knew what was coming.

"Arnold would follow in a few minutes and you could hear the cheers from down below. He had this harness which he'd rig under my arms with a brace at the back to be sure, as he used to pretend to care, that I was 'comfortable.' The brace put me in a horrible arch so that all my goodies were-on display. I can still hear him now, there at the balcony edge each time pretending to give a damn, asking 'Ready to wing it, dear Kitty?' Then he'd shove me out on this Peter Pan invisible wire and there I was, showing all."

"How beastly!" Dixil couldn't keep the sensations quiet in her breasts. The thought of gorgeous nude Kitty on animated exhibition was frantically erotic to her. "Is that what he did, wing you around above the guests and let them watch?"

"I should have been so lucky! He had this great game. He called it Kitty roulette. He'd flip the switch that sent me in a slow arc, then angle me down after half a dozen turns to his first target. Later he'd always swear it was pure chance, but the male I'd be aimed at was always red hot and ready.

"The others would strip him and he'd be shrieked at by Arnold to leave his wife alone and that would be Arnold's big jolly. What a weird scene! My husband, warped, skinny, ugly beast, naked with his cock in one hand and his motor control in the other, jerking himself off at the watching guests. My playmate would climb on my bod and jam it into me and away we'd go. That was Arnold's idea of 'winging it'!"

"You poor baby!" Dixil threw her arms impulsively around her daughter and mother love flooded in the embrace; that is, till deep and low the restless movement of woman wanting woman sent sizzling anticipatory tremors through Kitty's frame. "Let's be careful," hissed a frightened Dixie separating quickly and hovering over Kitty with maternal worry written on her face. "I'm afraid we both have a latent volcano inside."

"So what's so bad about that?" demanded Kitty, impatient at the slow disintegration of play possibility with one who had almost converted from mother to lover. "It's better than what Arnold had me do with creepy males."

Tumbling platinum blonde lengths partially obscured Dixil's face but not the sound of her pain. "My little girl! What did they do while you were winging it for him?"

Kitty stared emptily past her mother, remembering. "They fucked me out of my mind, if you want to know. I loved it at first, once I got rid of hating Arnold. It was scary and it was kind of beautiful at the beginning. There I was with a man's prick stuck all the way into my body and all that kept him from falling fifteen, maybe twenty feet, to the terrazzo hall floor were my legs locked around him. Everyone loved that. I have great legs, don't you think, Dixie?"

Dixil winced as she watched her bicycle her gorgeous legs from the prone position.

"You do have gorgeous legs, Kitty, and you're the most beautiful, most tantalizing, most considerate girl ever, and if a man is like Arnold, his aberrations would only be worse because you're all those things."

"Far as I'm concerned, I'm interesting only to creeps and kinks," sniffled Kitty, "and I'm not even aware of how normal men behave, anymore."

"How could you be anything else?" Dixil's eyes sparkled with a sudden idea. "You said you found the men in your family attractive, right? Normal, right?"

"Yes, but-"

"But no buts! You have my blessing to find your way back to normal woman feelings about men with them. Kiss them more; touch them. They won't bite and they'll never rape you. It's a good place to find the hetero life ... and ... and, well truth time now. The lesbian touch is feeling best as your way of love, isn't it?"

Kitty nodded slowly. "But not with just anybody."

Desperation clawed at Dixil, knowing she was suggesting what Stewart could reject in the way of overt demonstrativeness of his affection for wife and daughter. It had the ring of almost inviting full intimacy, but Dixil knew no such thing would ever take place in her family. She'd draw Barry and Dennis into the program, too, and between the three men they would rehabilitate Catherine Carr back into the land of living men. Talk ... touch ... kiss ... anything that felt normal and close. Dixil wondered if Barry and Dennis would be reluctant.

"Well... thanks." Kitty's satin gown was back over her shoulders and she was snugging the cord at her waist. "I love you, Dixie, and I love you wanting to help me. But won't Daddy think it kind of funny if ... well, you know, to talk privately it helps to close doors and ... be alone. I don't know how he'd feel with my going into Barry's room or Denny's."

"Don't worry. I'll pass the word." Dixil blew a loss to her daughter as she paused at the door. "I dare you tonight," she tempted. "Barry's always a late reader and he'll be awake and talkative after his weight lifting when they get home. Slip in. Close the door and chat with him."

"Maybe." Kitty looked unresponsive. "I've got a full day of experiments to work down at the school tomorrow."

"But make time," urged her mother. "It'd be sweet and you'd be surprised how much Barry's grown up in his conversation. By the way, how's the study going at Merriweather?"

"Wonderful. They're all so sweet to me there."

"How about Dennis? Is he underfoot?"

"He's a doll. So considerate and when he gets his chores done he bikes on home. He really may be very good in medicine someday. Nightie-night."

All the way down the hall to her room Kitty fought the storm of guilty afterthoughts for words that sounded so hypocritical. But she had been carried away and so had Dixie ... never again could she be "Mommy." It just seemed to get all mixed up, once she sensed her mother was literally sicking her at the men in the Carr family. What had started out to be a confession turned into a bigger web of deceit, and yet Kitty wondered who she was really deceiving. Dixie wanted no trap of lesbian play to mess up her life with Stewart and she had offered the men inside the family to rejuvenate what she thought was Kitty's flagging interest in heterosexuality.

Half an hour later, lying in her bed she heard the tires in the drive and a scurry of bare feet as Dixil ran downstairs. The screen door slammed loudly and voices at first exuberant quieted quickly and for almost an hour, before anyone came up the stairs to bed, she heard muffled undertones of earnest conversation. Odds were, Kitty bet, that her mother was already setting the stage for the three males to give one returnee from a broken marriage some special attention. She'd know in awhile.

Long after the hall light was off and the house had grown quiet, Kitty slipped Jrom her bed and eased open her bedroom door. Down the hall one door was the crack of light that declared Dixil right; Barry was reading and still awake.

She drew her full length bathrobe from the closet and moved out into the darkness of the hall, making no effort to move silently. At the far end of the hall behind her she heard the tiny familiar squeak of her parents' door. It was what she had hoped for.

"See!" hissed a triumphant Dixil to her husband, peering over her shoulder. "She listened. The poor thing is really needin' some normal male companionship and affection and must know it Look ... she's at Barry's-"

"I can see," snipped Stewart, turning toward his bed and feeling a curious envy that Barry was the chosen one. "So come to bed, psychoanalyst."

When Dixil crawled to the center of their king-sized bed, the state of Stewart Carr made the whole evening worthwhile. For the first time in more than a week, he was erect but never in their marriage could she remember him that kind of erect.

"Baby ... baby ..." she moaned in instant ecstasy at the feel of his hot flesh grinding across her thigh as he positioned himself for play. "This is the kind of man I want our Kitty to meet to make up for miserable Arnold."

"Will you shut up and forget Kitty?" he snorted, wishing he could take his own advice.

From the minute he had heard his wife urging in the kitchen that he and the boys ought to be specially tender to Kitty, that they ought to kiss and touch and even fondle her, if they dared, to make her feel like a wanted woman, Stewart had felt the bite of desire for his daughter. Dixil had sold him such a convincing package that, even as he slipped his horny erection through familiar cunty lips, he wondered if Kitty would feel like this.

He couldn't, reason stormed inside Stewart. No more than his sons would think of it, should he think of it. The way Dixil's suggestion had cracked both Dennis and Barry into convulsions, he obviously didn't have to worry that the boys were thinking his kind of adult thoughts. But that kind of thinking was hardly what Dixil had in mind and he'd have to walk a damned careful line, he lectured inwardly, even as he plunged brutishly into Dixil's very ready vagina.

In Barry's room a strange, silent, .mutual torture was being acted out. When she first entered, he was sprawled naked across the sheets and he was very, very hard. To go through the motions of propriety for the benefit of the two watching, she had tapped, waited two seconds, and opened the door quickly, as if invited in. She hadn't been.

It was one of the curious aftermaths of every weight lifting contest that Barry had to find quick sexual relief for his pent-up emotions. He was pumping feverishly at his erection and staring at a portrait of Kitty on his pillow as he excited himself.

She barely suppressed the exclamation and, closing the door, darted to his bed, stripping the robe as she ran. "Do it to the real thing, the right way," she demanded, throwing herself astride his legs and kneeing quickly to a position that put her cunty cleft an inch above his thunderhead prick-crown.

"Goddamnit, Kitty ... we shouldn't!" He tried to squirm from under. "If someone comes down that hall, they'd hear the sounds."

"We're going to do it the silent way." She fingered under her thigh and found the bulbous hugeness of his ripe prick-crown. A dot of semen oozing from the eyelet moistened her fingertip and she smudged it with disastrous effect across the satin sensitive glans cap.

"Ohhh ... hell!" he arched from the mattress driving his steely penis into her soft pussy-cleft and they were one-that fast! "Who cares who hears!" rasped Barry as the magic of his sister's vagina drove reason from his mind. "Let the whole world hear the prettiest sound ever made."

"Shhh ... that's the easy way." Kitty tightened her vaginal muscles to block more penetration till she had his attention. "We are going to go crazy with each other without a sound. In fact, we're even going to talk about your weight lifting tonight and about my graduate studies and make like brother-sister time, in case someone does come down the hall. Will you try?"

"How do you like Merriweather?" he demanded in remarkably well-faked calmness. "I mean the place is a bore, isn't it, after the big city?" He jammed upward slowly and felt her muscles relax to accept more of his outrageous cock.

"Love it. Let me tell you about the classes they have ..." She let herself be impaled on the bull-like prick, feeling her head swim with sheer rapture and knowing that she was about to be the failure at small talk while a mountaintop experience was tearing at her body.

There was no way seconds later that Barry could continue the charade of a conversation and dropping the attempt, he concentrated on making no sounds at all. The two focused all feeling on the meeting of cock and cunt. No hand play; no hp play to force unwanted exclamations from their passion partner's mouth.

It crept up quietly with the slow, torturous rocking of their bodies and the slight, vertical thrusting of an already totally buried cock. Neither could be sure when their orgasms began and as they felt the loss of any control over their bodies and their minds, they closed their eyes to shut out the animal wildness of their playmate's coming. In locked together silent mania they writhed and squirmed, and Kitty felt the barrage of his cum exploding into her cunt.

"You really dig going back to school, huh?" he asked matter-of-facdy and none too soon.

Outside his door Dixil, glowing with the savagery of her husband's demands on her body, listened furtively. She felt a guilty sense of betraying both her children to slip from her bedroom to eavesdrop, but Stewart had insisted. "You needn't go in," he'd snorted. They're just not going to be having much in common after all these years and you might as well see that trying to involve the boys with her problem is hopeless."

She went and she heard. For fifteen minutes she listened to the animated exchange between the two and then there was sudden total silence.

"It's really sweet to talk to you, Barry," Dixil heard Kitty say softly. "I guess we've been sorta strangers for a while."

"Not strangers any more," he answered and Dixil congratulated herself for a step in the right direction. "Sure nice of you to want to talk."

"I love it. It really helps." Unseen by Dixil, Kitty was stroking the limp rubbery penis, listening intently with her head tilted toward the door. She was sure she had heard the rustle of her mother's robe and it was time to see how far the maternal liberties were intended.

"You have a super bod, Barry. I'm glad you feel comfortable loafing around in practically nothin' while we yak."

"Heck, why not? You trust me, don't you?"

Td better," giggled Kitty and Dixil edged closer to hear all. "Case you didn't know it, you're showing and I think that's great. No embarrassment." She jumped from the chair she'd chosen for the charade in Mommy's behalf. "I'm hot, so if undies aren't bad taste, I'll get out of this robe."

"Look, in my book, you're Miss Perfect and I could care less if you even wanted to be naked. We trust around here. You even trust me showin', as you said. Can't help it. I get really stirred up with the lifting competition and it all builds up when I get home. Maybe I'm freaky like someone else I know."

"Don't you dare compare yourself to Arnold!" flashed Kitty. "That man has just about finished me with all men. But I get funny vibes being round home here. With you, specially, and it's a good honest feeling. You're beautiful to let me stay while it kind of acts up."

A glow diffused through listening Dixil's body. All that she had hoped for was happening inside that closed door. The two knew the limits, but they were finding new confidence to talk about something that clearly Kitty needed help with. She turned from the door to go back to the master bedroom, bumping unexpectedly into Stewart halfway down the hall darkness in search of her.

The collision brought another pleasant surprise to Dixil. He wore a freshened erection and that was something of a milestone in their recently decaying love life. "Everything all right?" he demanded, letting her turn him back toward their room by his protruding cock-handle.

"Couldn't be better," she whispered, hoping privately that her two oldest offspring would make even more progress toward a permissible intimacy of touching and, even if the spirit moved them, of stroking.

It occurred to her that in more than one family such parental encouragement as she had given Kitty had led to incest. Never here in the Carr household, she was convinced. And if the spirit moved any of them, even Stewart, to a brand of intimacy, like hand or lip stimulation, that would be fine, too. This was an emergency in Kitty's life-it was also an emergency in Dixil's life. She had felt dangerously close to the edge of being commandeered by woman-to-woman love and that could be a total disaster.

In Barry's bedroom a taut silence separated the two as they sat momentarily divided by their thoughts. Both felt the grab of danger in the course they had elected, but both felt the whipping need to be together in innocent play. Kitty looked across the space that separated her from her brother's chair and smiled at the towel he had hastily pulled over his naked body when he too had heard his mother's gown rustle at the door.

The rigid prick-pole stabbed high, lifting the towel with it, and Barry eased the cloth gradually to the point where it slid over the crimson tomato tip.

"Ooohhh ... beautiful!" Kitty remained motionless, staring at the drama of her muscled Adonis of a brother, sprawled arrogantly on his chair and flagging his erection at her.

"Come and get it," beckoned the finger, even though its owner said nothing.

She stood unsteadily, dizzied by the prospect of yet another act of high risk copulation. There was no way, as she had with Denny, that she could arrange a playpen away from home, yet she needed Barry's cock as much, or more, than Denny's.

It was one way to prove a theory, she thought as she slid across his thighs and pressed his chest back when he tried to rise to take her to the bed. Her SACKS theory said sex was best when anxiety played a part and she knew they both had something to be frightened about. If this night Daddy Stewart should come through that door as she copulated with her brother, there would be no way to measure the outrage. No telling the damage to her whole family. "Fuck me," she whispered, feeling him angle his erection to press the warm knob against her vulva. "Shove it all the way in without stopping."

His hands were firm on her hips and he drew her slowly atop the soaring penis, then dragged her down, relentlessly forcing against yielding but snug vaginal tissue, crushing his way through the sweet pussy-flesh till their bodies were molded mound to mound and their chests were cemented tightly.

"Barreeee!" she panted, fighting to hold her voice to a whisper. "You have to kiss me very hard the whole time we're doing it or I'll scream ... please, Barry ... take me!"

Their lips met and sealed and his copulation thrusts were sure and firm. In the few short weeks of their intimacies her brother had moved to accomplished lover and his performance now was that of the long experienced. He urged their bodies in coital rhythm, holding her breasts snugly mashed against his chest and building an all possessing wildness through her frenzied form. The sight of her impassioned expression, the tossing of long dark hair, the shapely perfection of shoulders and arms, and the feel of all the rest of her he could not see was beautiful to Barry.

Whatever came of their illicit play, he knew he would never judge her other than wonderful for leading him into the ways of woman and the arts of love.

Her eyes, wide and wonder-filled with a childlike innocence, tore the semen from his buried prick and drove them both in a breathless 'fantastic finish.