Chapter 2

Duke and I were so happy with our bathtub fucking that we forgot to turn off the water ... and just as he sent his sperm winging into my excruciatingly pleasure-bent womb an arm and hand the color of cafe au lait entered my frame of vision and did the job ... just as the deliciously warm water was on the verge of lapping over the rim of the oval tub. When I emerged from the golden cloud of rapture, I looked right up into sister Jill's cunt with its extravagantly full mound just above capped by short silver-dyed curls that matched those on her lovely plump head.

She laughed down at us from between the ebullient coffee-tipped gloves of her boobs and said, "What are you two trying to do ... wash out the whole family?"

Mal, who was standing behind her with his Eskimo-yellow arms circling her brown waist and his cock separating the cheeks of his sister's plump buttocks, said, "Oh, for a big cake of ice."

Duke smiled up at him and said, "Mal, you're a five-flushing phony ... the only cakes of ice you ever want to see again are the cubes in a highball glass. As an Eskimo, you'd make a good Hawaiian beach-boy, fourth class."

"At least I wouldn't drown," replied our Alaskan Eskimo brother, referring to an incident at a California beach when Duke had been caught in a cross rip and had to be fished out by the lifeguards.

"All right, all right ... " Duke brushed it off. "How about it, darling Jill ... you ready to go a round with me?"

"Just as soon as I get my pussy washed out." She plumped herself down on the bidet and turned on the water jets that flushed her bottom.

Mal fished me out of the tub and held my dripping body full against his sweat-covered one. He may not be built like a football hero ... his body is shaped more like a kayak ... but he's sleek and strong as a bull seal. And when he feels like fucking, which is about ninety-nine and forty-four hundredths percent of the time, he can really make a girl as happy as a lark.

He hugged me and I reached down between our bellies for his prick, which was rising to its action station. It was still nubbly from his and Jill's sex-saps, so I dropped to my knees and savored the blend of exotic flavors that covered it while licking it clean for further employment. He stood there, his sturdy legs parted, looking down on what I was doing to him with a seraphic expression and his eyes once more closed to mere slits.

I always like to give a little more than the occasion demands where fucking or sucking is concerned, so I really did a rim-job on this exotic spawn of our mutual father. I coddled his balls with my left hand and coddled the lower portion of his cock with the right ... the upper portion was the province of my lips, mouth, tongue and teeth. Mal has a good thick stiff prick, long enough but with no bulge at the crown. Instead, it is almost flat on top when erect, like a cylinder. But its taste is delicious, even with the pussyjuice and semen licked clean, and he-likes to have me munch on it gently.

I did the job so well that, suddenly, he was pushing my red head away with both hands and his delightful dong throbbed in the unmistakable prelude to orgasm. But it was too late to get it into my well-juiced cunt in time, so I just shook my head and hung on ... and the act of shaking it brought him to ejaculation that much the quicker. I swallowed his sperm, thinking that this divine fluid had to be the real nectar of the Ancient Greek gods ... no, not the goddesses alone from what Daddy has told me of the bisexual habits of the males who dwelt on Olympus, to say nothing of their fondness for transforming themselves into animals or birds for the sake of a little variety in their fucking and sucking routines.

When I removed my mouth from his spent prick, Mal looked down at its dwindling length ruefully, then at me and said, "That's what I call overdoing things."

"Sorry, darling," I said, rising and giving this dear brother a hug. "I guess I just got carried away."

He slid thick fingers into my cleft and began diddling my clit and juicing cunt and said, "It may take me a couple of minutes, darling Robin. You seem to have shot me down."

"Oh, honey!" I pressed myself tight against his sleek facade and began rubbing my boobs and belly and mound on his well-padded flesh. "I can't wait."

"It won't be long ... promise..." he said.

"It's not long now," I told him. "At least, not long enough."

By this time, I had taken hold of his semi-limp dong and was working on it, kneading it like a piece of dough, tickling it, squeezing it, doing everything I could think of to restore its pristine glory. Over his shoulder, I could see that Jill was fucking her black brother Terry, who was sitting on the John. The nubbly glass door of the cabinet was open, and her buttocks were lifting and falling around the black shaft in her creaming coozy like the walking beam on an old-fashioned river steamer in a Currier & Ives print.

All of a sudden, I wanted out of there. I'd been fucked on a table by Daddy and over a hassock by Terry, in the tub by Duke ... I wanted to go somewhere that I could just lie on my back in comfort while Mal or somebody ran a fine full stiff prick in and out of my hole. My hip was sore from the table, my belly felt strained from the hassock, my butt ached from the porcelain bottom of the tub.

I mean, can fucking can be fun when you're in the mood for naughtiness ... but, under the best of erotic circumstances, it simply is not the most romantic locale for the all-out making of love. I wriggled clear of Mal's embrace and, still holding onto his semi-soft stick, led him back into the living room, where Daddy was screwing daughter Leona on the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace while Terry and Donna were making like a double chocolate malt on one of the big sofas.

Daddy and Leona were enjoying one of my favorite positions, leaning back on their arms with her legs athwart his and their fucking pieces joined so that both of them could see all the action. Father and daughter looked so beautiful and so happy as they wriggled their intersticed crotches in perfect harmony, that I longed for a movie camera to record their bliss for posterity.

The firelight picked up the white pussyjuice that oozed from my golden-haired sister's hole around her father's deeply embedded cock, making it sparkle like mother-of-pearl, and her lovely long hair of spun gold gave the entire incestuous operation a sort of homey pre-Raphaelite look.

Donna was bending over with her black hands braced flat against the wall while her equally black brother rammed his long dong in and out of her juicing hole from the rear. The wild contortions of her buttocks, which bounced and thrust and bobbed and weaved, suggested the violence of her reaction to her full brother's plunging prick so happily housed in the hot hole between them.

I watched both couples until I was brought back to my own situation by the stiffening of the dick I held tightly gripped in my right hand. Turning and looking up at my Alaskan brother, I said, "I want to lie down and have you on top of me."

"Position one?" he said, his narrow eyes widening. "That would be a novelty in this family ... "

The window seat was wide and cushioned, offering us ample space for what we both had in mind. Just as, once in a while I am told, a seasoned gourmet tires of imagine French dishes and longs for a cheeseburger or a hot dog, so I was fed up with the extraordinary antics to which we of the Martin family were at times driven by the urge to bring variety to our deliciously full sex lives. I only wanted to lie on my back and fuck like a teenager lucky enough to get out of the back seat of the family car with her boyfriend.

Although the window-seat cushion was not the world's thickest, it felt like a swansdown lined mattress after the hard surfaces on which I had been screwing that evening. I lay flat on my back and laid my hands on either side of Mal's loins as he moved into my saddle, opening my thighs and pushing my crotch upward toward the blunt head of his yellow-brown prick as he aimed it for my hole. Then, pushing down on it with the fingertips of each hand, I directed it a little beneath my lubricated cunt so that, when I lifted my hands, it snapped upward and into me like a snake springing successfully at its prey.

We both thrust slowly forward, rendering our union complete, and his arms slid under my shoulders, with his hands palm upward and his belly lay flat on mine and his chest pressed pleasantly on my gravity-flattened boobs. I widened my thighs still further and rested my heels on the little hollows in the backs of his knees, and then we kissed and our lips and tongues seemed to flow together into a single delicious whole...

Thanks to the fuckings he had already received from Jill and Leona, to say nothing of the rim-jobs Donna and I had done on his dick, Mal was slow to come with me ... which did not make our window-seat session any the worse. In fact, his dilatory reactions gave me time to play all number of little tricks to the satisfaction of my own sensual cravings while drawing no complaints from my Eskimo brother.

I got things going slowly, keeping his tubular cock buried deep in my tunnel of lust, rotating my crotch gently to get my juices really flowing, reveling in the fine full occupancy of my creaming coozy by such a stalwart dong. Then I hit him hard for a few minutes, bringing myself to a delicious overboil, reveling not only in the feel of his cock in my driving, gyrating cunt but finding added fillips in the perfumes of sex that arose from the area where our fucking pieces were so deliciously joined.

Then, when I had successfully reached Cloud Twelve or so and my every nerve-end was singing in radiant harmony, I let myself cast for a while, savoring the sweet squishiness of my cunt and the slight stickiness of its fluids around the piston sliding in and out of it to a regular beat. Then, when I was wholly satisfied, I pick up the tempo once again, driving my cunt upward around his throbbing prick to beat on the door of his jock, coming from every angle my crotch could encompass, until I felt he was ready and knew I was.

He flattened full out on me then, his weight grinding my body deliciously into the cushion that covered the window seat under my backside. His strokes became deep and long and his weight all but crushed me and inhibited the wild automatic action of my pelvis ... so I locked my legs tight around his plunging rump and drove my bottom up and around again and again until, at last, I felt the fierce spurt of his semen deep in my core and letting my legs fall apart while he remained fully embedded in my dripping cunt, lying perfectly still until, long moments after, my madness was dissipated like a low morning mist.

When we separated, we saw that this phase of the evening was over. Daddy was sitting on the sofa with Leona and Jill, while Donna reclined with Duke and Terry. All were smoking and sipping red Burgundy, and when we had showered (and I had used the bidet) we joined them. Talk was general until every glass was empty.

Then Daddy looked at me, perched on the hassock over which brother Terry had fucked me so fiercely earlier, and smiled at me with a fond parental smile that made his handsome face glow from within with love and said, "Darling Robin, I want you with me tonight." And, to the others, "I'm sure you can all find diversion in the dormitory. ... all I ask is that you get some rest. We have a full day ahead of us tomorrow."

The other three girls showed disappointment in their various ways ... for all of them would willingly give their eyeteeth (except for Jill, who lost hers and wears a bridge) to spend a night alone with Daddy. Generally, he took two of us to bed with him, sweetly and thoughtfully servicing them one at a time.

Jill wrinkled her pert brown nose in disappointment, Donna looked sad and a bit sullen. Only beautiful golden-haired Leona, who could get jealous over Daddy at the drop of a French tickler, actually said anything, her tone tinged tartly with jealousy.

"How come she gets a call, Daddy, when she's the newest of us all?"

He quelled her with a look and said, "I have a great deal to discuss with Robin, kids ... I shouldn't have to remind you of the amount of business that still remains to be done before we go on tour."

Leona said, "Hah! Some business ... with a goodly bit of. the chimpanzee involved if I know you two ... and I do!"

Daddy just looked at her, and her angry lavender eyes met his until he said, "Would you like to miss your next turn, my dear. It would be my loss, but in the interests of ... "

Her eyes fell. She said, "Oh, all right ... but I still don't think it's fair."

Daddy smiled and went over and gave her a kiss and squeezed her beautiful big boobs one by one. Her arms went around his neck and her lovely naked body followed his upward as he stood and she began rubbing her pussy against his jock. For a moment, I thought she was going to get him as I saw his pecker stiffen between her grinding hips and his ... but then he held her gently but firmly away from him, avoiding the cuntal thrusts she made in an effort to capture his marvelous curved cock for herself.

"Duke ... Terry!" he said. "Take care of her." And, as the two young powerhouses pulled her reluctant body from that of our father, "Leona, you've just lost your turn. There has to be some discipline."

"Fuck discipline!" Leona yelled, her lovely face a mask of fury. "I want to fuck you, Daddy."

He had his arm around my naked body by this time and turned to reply, "And so you shall, my little golden spitfire ... let's see, that will be next Thursday night."

There were sounds of struggling and curses as we walked from the living room, and a small pot containing geraniums crashed against the door-jamb just as we passed through it, crashing to pieces and spattering our unclad rumps with dirt. Daddy never turned around but led me across the hall to the big staircase with the stained glass window on the landing halfway to the second floor of the fine old mansion.

He said quietly, once we were out of earshot, "Sometimes, Leona's possessiveness causes me concern."

Because I love Leona and was feeling a bit guilty about robbing her of her rotation night with Daddy (although it had been Daddy's doing, not mine), I said, "It's only because she loves you so much, darling Daddy. She can't help it."

"I may have to send her on assignment," he said. "There's plenty to be done in the field."

"But not," I said, "until she's had her night with you. Otherwise, she might do something silly."

"You're right, of course, dear Robin," he said and, as always, the term of endearment made my cunt cream. "She's certainly quite a bedful. But, to paraphrase that same young lady just now, fuck Leona. I really do have much to discuss with you, Robin."

"I know," I said, hugging his arm tightly so that my near boob was sweetly squashed against its lean muscular hardness. All the same, I felt a pang of disappointment that he had not summoned me to his bed alone for the sole reason that he wanted to fuck me all night alone. I'd have been less than female had I not felt thus.

Still, a night alone with my own father was something to flood my coozy ... no matter what the circumstances. Thanks to our week or so alone in the Kernstown motel, when he first claimed me from my foster father and real mother (who was also his sister) in nearby Riverville, I was quite sure that our night alone together would not be entirely sexless. Nor did the event prove me wrong ...

Daddy's bedroom looks as chaste as a well-conditioned abbot's monastery bedroom. Save for the fact that one whole wall is a picture window and louvered glass door, looking out on a balcony that, in turn, looks out on the lovely garden of the old mansion, its walls are innocent of decoration. The floor is covered with thick carpeting and the only apparent article of furniture is an emperor-sized Hollywood bed adorned with a spread of cool green damask thrown over sheets and blankets of bright vermilion. The walls are a rich dark blue, perfectly plain to the uneducated eye. There are no chairs, no pictures to be seen on entering Daddy's chamber. Even the door to the wardrobe-lined dressing room and to the opulent bath beyond cannot be seen or found unless the visitor knows the proper button to push.

There is a battery of such buttons, set flush with the wall above the headboard, and when we lay down, Daddy pressed one he had never pressed for me before. An oval niche opened in the wall opposite the foot of the big bed, a niche illuminated indirectly from below. Within its soft burnt orange glow stood an alabaster symbol, a beautifully carved-likeness of the erect male phallus whose every detail was expressed from the bulb-like uncircumcised tip with its tiny spout-spire to the double mound of the testides wherein its symbolic seed was stored. Its translucent surfaces seemed actually to shimmer in the light when I moved my head slightly the better to study it.

"Dear Robin," said Daddy in his wonderful deep voice, "you know what that is..."

"I ought to," I replied. "I've been fucking them since, I was eleven years old. That's a male prick, up and ready to go ... or come."

In the dim light, Daddy winced slightly at my cornball joke. But he did not reprove me, merely said, "That is the priapic image in its purest and most ancient form. The original of that statue lies in the special rooms, of the museum at Pompeii, the one for which visitors must have permits to view. It was carved by some genius in one of the pre-Christian cities of Hellenic Asia Minor and much later brought to Rome, where some rich connoisseur purchased it and installed it in a place of honor in his summer villa at Pompeii."

I was impressed and said so. Daddy nodded and went on with, "As you know, Priapus is the deity upon which our family cult is reared, the ancient god of lust and love and male fertility and laughter, a partial embodiment of the god Pan, who was actually the embodiment of all nature in its variety and universality. Hence our own Pan-Priapic terminology. , "There is great need of such worship nowadays, when the world has become neurotic slaves to the gadgets of its own people. What is needed to recover harmony is not psychiatry, is not violence, is not toiling over machines or overindulging on vacations ... what is needed is Pan's own remedy, the lingam and yoni or, if you will, the male prick and a pulsing female hole in which to put it, the greatest release, the most marvelous therapy, in the world."

When he paused, I snuggled close to his side and said, "My hole is pulsing, darling Daddy ... "

He slid expert fingers into my cleft, which I opened to render his access the easier, testing the wetness of my cunt and said, "Why so it is, dear Robin, so it is..."

It was my turn to make a move, and I took hold of his magnificent curved saber of a cock and found it long and thin and hard and said, "Lingam, your yoni is awaiting you."

He pulled me close into his arms, half-cradling me and laughing down at me as he swung my body across his lap, increasing my pleasure with the adroit penetration of a thumb into my juicing cunt as he did so. He said, "You little devil. You know, dear Robin, I think I find you the most irresistible of all my lovely daughters."

"Oh, go on!" I said, wriggling to bring his big prick closer to the ripeness of the parking space I had in mind for it. "I'll bet you've said that to every one of them ... and I'll bet you cannot resist them, either. I mean, who'd want to?"

He let me push him back against the pillows piled at the head of the bed and, straddling him, push my creaming coozy slowly down over the long curving fullness of the priapic emblem I worshipped above all others. I knew right then that this was going to be quite a night . ...