Chapter 4
"Now I want to see you as Lady Venus," Jack said, when both of them had recovered their breaths. He sat comfortably in the straight chair just inside-his bedroom door. His sister, with a bellyful of his come, knelt between his thighs, still, with her cheek on one thigh. Her hair streamed down over and between his legs. It tickled.
She looked up. "Oh, Jack," she sighed.
He snapped his fingers. "Get up and strip. Then put on the belt and boots and gloves, Sandra!"
Sandra rose slowly to her feet and started to reach down to unlatch the straps of her garter belt from her hose.
"Wait a minute," Jack said casually. He fished a cigarette out of the pocket of his discarded shirt. "Bring me an ash tray and that lighter off the table beside the bed.
She gazed at him. "You ... really are ... going to ... treat me as a slave?"
He shrugged, sitting there in smug comfort, naked. "Sometimes. Move."
She swayed over and returned with light and ash tray. He lit up, blew a billow of smoke upward, and gestured with the cigarette.
"Now-turn around before you take off those stockings, and do it standing up. I want to be able to see your asshole and your cunt."
Without a word she turned and went through the balancing act of removing her stockings while standing up. He watched the clenching tightening of the silken white moons of her ass, their loosening with a slight tremble, and their parting to reveal the two slots he had mentioned. Both were pink and excitingly tight looking, including the full-lipped cunt in which she had, he assumed, housed and entertained plenty of cocks. Including that damned monster of a prick the Gerrold boy was hung with.
She dropped the garter belt to the floor with her stockings. Slowly, she turned to face him. Now she was completely naked. He puffed as he gazed at her. Eventually he raised his eyes to her face.
"You know what? I hate to say it, Sister, but ... you're just damned good-looking all over. You look like you were made for sex."
"I think I was."
"Urn. You don't shake easily either, do you?"
"You know I've always felt older than everybody else my age. I can't help it Most of them just seem like kids."
He nodded. "Well, get into the Lady Venus outfit."
"Outfit! Jack ... there's so little of it!"
"That's one good point about it," he said. "Also, that's the way T saw you last night, and that's the way I like you best."
She put her head a little onto one side. "Was that ... the first time you've ever seen me ... naked?"
"Nope." He shook his head, grinning. "You?"
"No," she admitted. "I've peeped at you, too." Then she went to the door, on her way to her room.
"Bring 'em back in here to put 'em on," he called, and soon she was back. He had her sit on the floor, facing him, while she pulled on the tall black boots. That way her vulva was beautifully, obscenely displayed, and he could see the lips open and close with her movements. She looked at him, too.
Then she stood and strapped on the belt, buckling it low on her hips. They were men's belts, he saw, with holes for the buckle's tongue all the way around. That way they could be made to fit anybody, but hers must have been bought pretty large anyhow. She and the other Venus girls wore them well below the waist, sexily circling the hips like a diver's belt, and Sandra's hips were definitely womanly.
Strange, he thought. She's not only hard to rattle, more mature than the others just as she said, but she is in the body, too, in a way. No teenage "baby fat," not a bit of it. Tiny little waist, perfect thighs, well-rounded hips and contoured breasts and buttocks. , She drew on the gloves. Then, after a moment of hesitation, a little nervous, she seemed to relax. She set one foot slightly ahead of the other, leaning her weight on the left so that the left hip bulged outward. And she put both black-gloved hands on those white hips.
He smiled. "Lovely," he said. "Lady Venus herself! Lie down on the bed full length, Sandra. On your back. And put your hands way back up over your head."
She looked fearful. "You ... you're not ... Jack? What're you going to do?"
He was already rising, killing the last half-inch or so of his cigarette in the ash tray. He shrugged. "What's the difference? Lie down."
She stretched out as he had said, and he used her hose to bind her wrists to the head of the bed, well apart. He did not tie her ankles, but with them well apart she formed a large and highly erotic X-shape. He patted her flat, tightened belly and went into her room, which was next door to his. She always kept three fat, firm pillows on her bed, atop the spread. All three were furry cotton velour, and they were imitation animal hides: a spotted one, like a jaguar or a leopard, a striped one to represent a tiger, and the black-and-white stripe: "zebra."
Taking the furry pillows back into his room, he ordered her to see how high she could raise her legs, and he grinned when her stomach went even more taut and she strained and then she was displaying her ass and the fuzzy bulge of her cunt just above it Her legs were straight out, jutting up and out at an angle from her body.
He used his hand to hoist them further, then pushed them back, ignoring her grunts. He placed a pillow carefully beneath each of her buttocks, then another just behind her neck, beneath her upper back. Now he dropped her legs and stepped back to admire her.
The black gloves protected her wrists from the nylon of her stocking bonds, which could cut. Along with the boots and the belt, the gloves also made her sexier than if she had been completely nude. And the carefully placed pillows jutted both her tits and her mossy pubic mound as if in plaintive invitation.
He moved onto the bed between her legs, ordering her to open them wider. She did. Both of them noted that he was no longer limp between the legs. His cock wasn't hard, but it was long and thick, at that big malleable stage just before it stiffens and plays jack-in-the-box. He stretched onto her with that almost-hard prick between the tops of her thighs.
Then he placed his hands on her breasts and squeezed and pushed and pulled and rolled them on her chest. The nipples perked a bit. She moaned and sighed. Straining forward, he placed a kiss in each of her wide-open armpits. They were quite smooth. He assumed she had shaved very carefully before last night's wild activities!
Then he moved his lips over to the upward bulging bowls of her breasts. They quivered when his mouth began sliding up their curves.
First he sucked, wiggling his tongue just over the pink tips, until her nipples were hard and high and quivering. He listened to her gasping sighs and tiny moans with a smile of great pleasure. He felt her movements, knowing she was tugging at the bonds that kept her arms and hands at bay. Whether she wanted to hold him to her or push him away, she was helpless to do either.
He raised his mouth from her rosy, inflamed nipples, smiled at her strained face, and backed away.
His hands pressed at her thighs. They opened obediently still more, widening the gap between their tops until the delicate flower there opened its dewy pink petals. They were like the petals of a delicate pink shade flower, seldom exposed to the light.
Which is plenty poetic, he thought, but it isn't a flower. It's a mouth, pink and hungry and open. A very beautiful young pussy.
He bent to kiss it.
Little mewling groans of pleasure trickled from her mouth; her other mouth. She began to move, her drum-tight belly rippling. The red-tipped mounts of her breasts, sucked erect, shimmied and rolled on her chest. Her arms tensed and flexed, tugging at their nylon bondage. She writhed and whimpered an anguish, wordless plea for more.
He deepened his kiss.
His tongue slid easily between the soft labial folds and into the humid hole behind. Her moaning response was loud. His tongue flicked, down inside her. He licked the slippery inner surfaces of damp lips like wet silk, turning them still more damp.
Her thighs trembled and tightened as she thrust hard with her heels, pressing her mound up to his face. Cunt fur tickled his chest. His tongue speared in. He tasted the pungent fluid seeping from her cunt's inner walls. Her thighs rose beside his face and he was glad he had not bound her ankles. A totally helpless woman was much less fun than one who could hoist her own bulging Mount of Venus and press her warm, silken, firm young thighs against his head on either side. The muscles stood out tautly along their inner surfaces as she strove to get his tongue ever deeper inside her.
His sliding wet tongue snaked in and out of her itching cunt like a miniature cock.
He fucked her with his tongue.
He grinned, his forehead hard against her belly. It trembled beneath him. He could feel the little moans he heard, starting way down in her belly and gliding up to trickle out her open mouth as he sucked and tongued her inner pussy.
He knew that the constant thrust of his stiffly held tongue into her was almost unbearable. Knew she felt it throughout her body each time his probing tongue disappeared into the deep slot of her sex.
She could not hold still. The delicate layers of spongy flesh contracted greedily, spasmodically around his impaling lingual probe. He plunged it in as far as he could, jabbing with his tongue, loving the sound of her appreciative whimpers. Her body jerked as if it were on strings. And he was the puppeteer who controlled her. He sucked, hard, opening his mouth wide to pull the slippery softnesses of her pussy lips up inside.
Her legs swept wide, flanking his bobbing head. Then she jerked them in to cradle him. Her heels rose and came down to press his back. Her thighs locked his head tightly, gripping and pulling him into her. He felt them quiver, twitching in a constant attack of nervous spasms.
He did not stop until she begged, whimpering, for the second time.
"Come in me! Please! Come into me!"
He lifted his mouth, wet and glistening, from her crotch and looked up at her, along the straining length of her bodies and along the valley between her bobbing, quivering, nipple-surging tits.
"What? What is it you want?"
"Please! For god's sake ... fuck me! Get inside me!"
He smiled, teasing her, and bent to lick her pussy once more. She jerked with the violence of a convulsion.
Then he rose swiftly, moved up, and jerked forward to meet her frantic movements. The soft folds of her sexy hole were already parted, eager to accept him into her liquid cunt. He steered his pounding hard-on forward and let it go in and in and in still more, until he was as deep within those hot wet confines as he could bury himself.
His excited cock was totally engulfed in his sister's pussy.
He felt her tighten as she moved her legs. She encircled him like a warm, too-tight glove; the formfitting ones racecar drivers wear.
He began humping and pumping, juicing his ebullient length of fuck-flesh hard and fast in and out of her clasping hollow.
Within less than a minute of hard plunging she was screaming in orgasm, and in less than another minute he was spurting hard into her contracting vagina.
"Dawn, first," Jack Huffman told his sister later. Their father had called; he was fine, their mother was about the same, okay, but not seeming to improve much. The tests weren't conclusive, and tomorrow she'd be wheeled in for exploratory surgery. Yes, Jack and Sandra told him, they were fine. Everything was cool. Don't worry, and kiss Mom.
After releasing his sister from the bed, Jack bade her douche herself and continue wearing just what she was wearing.
"B-but ... what if someone comes??"
He grinned. "I'll get the door. You'll have time to vamoose. And if it's for you, you can always peel off the gloves and slip on a dress, fast."
"All right," Sandra had said softly, with her head down.
Now it was late afternoon. He sat in his father's chair, going through the big Sunday paper. His sister sat across the room, directly opposite and facing him, in the straight armchair they had placed there, against the wall. Sitting atop the chair's back, she leaned against the wall. One booted foot was planted on each of the chair's arms. She had long since finished with the comics and the Magazine section, but he had ignored her sighs.
With her legs so far apart, her naked pussy gaped obscenely at him, like a vertical, grinning mouth with very pink lips.
Now he said, "Dawn, first," and slowly lowered the paper. He dropped it to the floor and gazed at her.
Her brows rose. "What? Dawn ... what?"
"Wednesday night," he said, "you and Dawn will study together. Here. It's a good enough excuse, and she'll be glad to tell her parents you're having a test or something. I want her over here. We'll play the tape for her."
She licked her lips. Her eyes seemed to sparkle with excitement
"And...?"
He grinned and gestured with both hands. "And I play Apollo and introduce my Priapus to her Sacred Chamber. I mean Temple. Of Venus."
She nodded. "All right, Jack. J-Jack ... my legs've gone to sleep. They're quivering all over, too. Could I sit down in the chair?"
"In a minute," he said. He thought: Jesus! I've really got the world by the ass! Or rather six girls, which is more important than the tired damned world!
He got up and walked over to stand in front of her chair. She perched atop it with her legs and cunt lips wide open, like a girl posing for some of those split-beaver pictures, which were about one-tenth as sexy as a damned good book.
The real thing, though, is different, he mused.
Leaning one hand on one of her upraised knees, he moved the other one slowly in toward the convergence of her widespread thighs, where close-cropped black hair like fleece framed a red-lipped slash that was peeled open a good half-inch. That was enough.
She grunted and jerked when he shoved his thumb up into her cunt.
"Ah ... annnnngh! Oh ... if s dry! That hurts....
He pushed his thumb in until his hand flattened the lips around it. He wiggled it. Grinning, he felt the passage he impaled begin to grow damp, then moist, then wet. Her moans changed in tone. She began to hunch....
He withdrew-his thumb and let her watch him stick it in his mouth. His cheeks sank far inward as he gave it a good hard suck. The fluid was almost tasteless.
He turned and walked back to his chair, where he sat. Then he waved a hand. "You can sit down in the chair now, dear."
She started sinking down, groaning when long-strained muscles tingled and interrupted circulation began its normal flow once more. She sagged into the chair, looking tiny in her black-decorated nakedness. Her dark, dark eyes gazed at him.
"Jack? What ... what if she ... won't? Dawn, I mean."
He laughed lightly. "Won't? Christ, her old man's a deacon, and he teaches Sunday School! He most certainly thinks she's as cherry as the day she was born! Just a hint that they might inspect her little honey pot would be enough to get her housebound for years!"
"Yeah, I guess so," his sister said, looking solemnly at him. She seemed to be studying him.
"Besides, you're going to help, Sandra. You see, it was you who started the club, right? First you, with an idea, and then you and Dawn, right?" He waited while she nodded, closing her eyes in a long blink before spearing him with their dark liquid gaze again. "Right, then. So ifs all your fault, in a way. You led them down the primrose, I mean the lotus flower path." He spread his hands with a smile. "Now you'll lead them down another path ... to me. For me."
After a long silence, she said, "You're going to fuck them all."
"All. Maybe not quite as ... nicely as I did you. After all, you're my sweet baby sister."
She shivered and again there was a long silence in the room. He could hear the ticking of the big old clock out in the hallway. A quiet Sunday afternoon, with a clock ticking in the hall and the Sunday paper piled in disarray on the floor. Just like any other house in town, or all over the country.
Except that he wore only his trousers, and the sexily adorned, leather-adorned picture of nudity sitting across the room from him was his teenaged sis ter, Lady Venus, and in the past few hours they had sucked each other off and fucked together.
She shivered again. "Oh god. Jack ... can I tell you something?"
"Save it," he said, inspecting his watch. "Let's have a pizza. Okay?"
So they fixed and ate a pizza, with a little wine, and watched the Sunday Night Movie on the television. Jack had Sandra stand up and remain motionless while he fondled her, very intimately, all over. Then he turned her around, swatted her naked butt, and told her to go to bed. He checked the doors, turned out the lights, and went to bed.
He was just starting to drift into sleep when he heard a faint sound. Then she came slipping warmly into his bed. Her hand slid over his hip. Her lips pressed his back. Wiggling up a little, letting him feel her naked tits rubbing their firm curves and delicate tips along his back, she pressed her lips close to his ear.
"What I was going to tell you."
"Um. Oh yeah." He felt back behind him, rubbed her bare thigh.
"I loved sucking your prick. I loved your mouth on me. I loved you fucking me. Jack ... oh, Jack! I'm crazy about you! I have been for years, just years. I've always wished you weren't my brother, so we ... so we could ... well."
I'll be damned!"
"If all that guff they hand out in church is for real, well both be damned!" she whispered. Then her breasts wiggled against his back as she chuckled.
He was turning over to her when she said excitedly, "It's going to be just an absolute ball getting those girls in here and turning them over to you!"
He didn't get enough sleep that night and felt like hell in the morning.