Chapter 6

What it was about Uncle Jake Martin that set my teeth on edge, I don't know. Maybe it was unreasonable resentment for his having taken me while I was blindfolded and, in my own mind at any rate, spoiling my track record for self-control during my initiation rites into the Martin family Inner Sanctum. My barely maintained self-control while Mal and Duke and Terry and darling Daddy were fucking me in succession had been hard come by ... especially with such a quartet of hards plumbing my cunt with but a single desire ... to make me explode before they did.

Or maybe it was Jake's personality. Where the rest of the family, at least among ourselves, were straightforward and loving and cooperative, Uncle Jake was as arrogant as a bantam cock. From the little I had seen of him since my de-masking, it was not so much what he said or did as the way he said or did it. I had a hunch he couldn't sit on the John without strutting.

It could have been his looks, of course. Every other member of the clan had more than his or her share of physical beauty, from darling Daddy right down to Mal ... for if our Eskimo brother was firm and meaty of body and flat of feature and small of eye, he was a strapping and handsome specimen of his race once you adjusted to him. As for the rest, black, white or in-between, they were so lovely of face and body it was impossible not to love them.

But not Uncle Jake ... with his bald head and pop eyes and bulging blob of a nose and cunt-like mouth, with his round-bellied, hairy body and short, bandy legs, he looked like a creature out of the tiny horrors of a painting of hell by Hieronymus Bosch. I mean, he just didn't seem to be out of the same bag, which, of course, he wasn't save for the accident of having been fruit of the same womb Daddy came from.

Probably it was astrological inimicality, but the mere thought of having those stubby fingers fondling my body or of letting his cock into my cunt gave me the brass chills...

To my amazement, the rest of the girls failed to share my deep distaste for Uncle Jake. Over against the wall, Jill's platinum-dyed curls rose and fell at a slowly increasing pace as she sucked away at the newcomer's prick. Bent over as she was with her back to the room, I could see the cream in her crotch which indicated that she was thoroughly aroused.

What made me even more annoyed was that, despite my own revulsion, despite the five fuckings I had so recently enjoyed (if enjoyed was quite the word to express my true feelings in the matter), I could feel the cream spreading in my own twat, which began to itch as if it hadn't held a human prick for a week or more. There was something so utterly loathsome about Uncle Jake that it actually did things to me. For the first time in my life I had some comprehension of the old fairy story Beauty and the Beast.

As Jill's platinum curls bobbed up and down ever faster as she sucked the newcomer off, her plump rump began to circle and the white area around her hole got almost visibly larger. Suddenly, Uncle Jake's fat, be-ringed fingers were digging dents in her ample flesh, pulling her head from his upcurving cock, which gleamed bright with his niece's spit as it lifted its big, thick crown unerringly toward the well-lubricated cunt that was so patently ready to be filled by it.

Writhing like a plump pigeon, the light-brown Jill spread her full thighs wide as her uncle pulled her athwart his lap and squashed her beautifully big boobs flat against the hairy surface of his own receding chest. Her plump belly somehow went into a reverse-curve around the much greater arch of his big, fat abdomen and her downthrusting cunt met his up-thrusting cock with a perfect conjuncture of movements to place it securely in the juicing hole it was so ardently seeking.

She began to grunt like a sow in childbirth each time she drove her crotch down over Uncle Jake's cock, and from the way she squeezed and hugged and kissed and slobbered over him, it was all too plain that she was actually crazy about fucking him. I had no doubt of his screwing talent, of course ... after all, it was only a few minutes since he had completed bringing me to one of the seethingest boils in my entire fucking lifetime ... but if I hadn't been wearing the mask, I doubt that I'd have let his prick come within a country mile of my cunt.

Yet, as Jill writhed in all-too-evident rapture on the thick, short (compared with Daddy's) prick in her rotating rump, I could feel the itching and creaming in my own cunt grow ever more urgent. Tearing my eyes from the spectacle that both revolted and fascinated me simultaneously, I glanced around to see who and what was available to ease my itching.

Evidently, the balance of the day was to be given up to festivities celebrating my successful matriculation into the bosoms of the family, for the only work being done was being performed by Donna and Duke, who were busily setting a refectory table with all sorts of goodies, both liquid and solid. Behind the altar on which I had made my initial sacrifices that morning, were laid a pair of king-size box springs topped by thick mattresses. At the moment, one of these floor-beds was being employed by Daddy and Mal and Donna and Leona, who lay on their sides in a rough rectangle busily engaged in sucking one another off even while being sucked off themselves.

This left beautiful, big, black Terry ... but where in hell was he? I looked for him everywhere, turning my head in all directions in vain as my desperation mounted. If I didn't get a prick in this distressed and itching area, I was going to have to masturbate ... which was like eating grits at a table piled with caviar.

Suddenly, rope-like black arms circled my slender waist from behind and huge black hands began dextrously kneading the palpitating flesh of my abdomen, working sweetly and swiftly down toward my mound and the cleft whose top its red-brown thicket of hair concealed. So much taller was Terry than I that his balls pressed into the small of my back and the Hamitic ramrod of his prick ran up my spine almost to my shoulder-blades.

"I thought you looked horny, honey," Terry murmured, nibbling my left earlobe.

It sent an electric shock racing through me that all but reduced me to aspic, quivering wildly in an earthquake. I gasped, "You were never lighter, darling brother," then reached around behind me to get a grip on his magnificent black cockalorum.

Using it as a fulcrum, I turned around in his embrace so that we were tete-a-tete instead of front to my rear. My beautiful black big brother was so much taller than I that his head seemed halfway to the ceiling while the royal and dusky crown of his cock now actually pressed into my skin between my boobs while his balls were pushed against my belly button.

But this tallest and biggest of all my brothers and I had not been savoring each other's meat sweetly since our first encounter at the airport motel in Kernstown without turning the apparent disadvantage of our ill-matched sizes to a source of extra-added delight. After all, we were both young and healthy and smart and not only the business but the joy of our lives was fucking ...

It was difficult for our lips and tongues to meet and mingle while Terry's prick was in my hole ... so we simply let that part of it go. As Terry said, "Let's concentrate where we've both got the most-our fucking pieces-and let the rest of it go."

A well-expressed sentiment with which I heartily agreed...

Holding me as if I were a medicine ball, my beautiful, big, black brother dropped to his knees on the unoccupied king-size floor-bed. The top of his cock-head slid into my richly pulping crotch and he maneuvered me so that it rubbed from one end of my slot to another a slow half-dozen times or more.

This was delicious foreplay ... to enjoy it all the more, I made a ball of myself, hugged my knees to my belly and boobs so that my crotch was the more fully exposed and available to his adept poking and prodding. Slowly, still holding me easily just above the quivering head of his beautiful black prick, Terry lay down on his back and looked up into my eyes with his own onyx orbs aglow with love and mischief and anticipation of the joys to be shared by both of us immediately ahead.

He lowered me, still coiled into a ball, until the fine, full crown of his cock was pushed barely between the throbbing labia at the very gate of my avid cunt. For a moment longer, he held me there, rotating my body slowly back and forth around the mighty meat whose tip lay just within the gateway to its goal.

Then he said, "Now, darling sister?"

I nodded and said, "Now, beautiful, big brother ... "

He drew me down on that projecting pillar of joy of his and it slipped up into my whirlpool bath of pleasure as slickly and easily as a knife through soft butter. Thanks to my curled-up position, he really got that dong into me, crowding its head right up inside my quivering uterus until it pressed against the very top of that vital organ. Holding me thus deliciously impaled, he began rotating the ball of my body in slow half circles, first to my right, then to my left, in gentle horizontal arcs that caused the wildest and most wonderful waves of sensation to put my whole being ablaze with the raging fire that should never be quenched.

Thanks to the intensive course darling Daddy had given me the night before, and the initiation ordeal I had so triumphantly survived that morning, my first instincts were to keep things under control just as long as I could. But then I remembered that this was no ritual fucking but an act of love and friendship and pleasure ... so I thought, To hell with that shit! and really let it all hang out. This was my last coherent thought for some time as the tidal waves of ecstasy rolled right over me and claimed me" with rhythmic surges and undertow and crossrips as well.

I came out of my human ball position and my arms and legs shot out from my thrusting, pulsing body ... and if this rendered my impalement a trifle less deep, the disadvantage was more than made up for by the increased freedom and mobility it gave me. First, I planted my hands flat on my dear black brother's steel-velvet chest and, thus braced, put my rump through a series of convolutions that had the effect of sending me off into the asteroid belt like a shooting star. I mean, like the young fellow from Ghent in the limerick, whose tool was so long that it bent ... instead of coming, I went!

Nor was I alone on my golden-tinged giddy journey. As loving as he was adept at the art of it, Terry not only stayed right with me but increased my rapture time after time with little tricks only a past master of fucking even knows exist. A majority of men, for instance, are of the belief that the quickest way to bring a girl on manually is by pressing on or rubbing her clitoris hard.

This is simply not so in any girl I've ever talked fucking with. Direct pressure on the clit does not bring excitation in its wake ... rather it hurts and causes revulsion. That most sensitive of female organs demands a more subtle approach than that of the head-on fingerfucking assault.

It is excited by pressures that rub against it, be they vertical, horizontal or on a bias and its excitation is of great importance in getting a girl's cunt ready to contain a stiff prick. A man who knows how, can give a girl all sorts of jollies by rolling it between his fingers or even tweaking it ... but he must do it gently or it won't have the desired effect of putting her sexual machinery in motion.

Gentle pressures alongside the button or any light but insistent pressure anywhere save at its little tip are bound to take their toll of a girl's self-control and get the thrills started coursing through her and her sex-sap flowing. And in fucking, unless a girl's clit is completely up out of the action, the sliding in and out of the prick past its head gives an added joy to the swogging that ultimately melts into everything else when full orgasm takes over her body.

Terry knew just how to get the most mileage in delight out of my little red button. Even as my bumps and grinds and snap-rolls of my crotch and buttocks were juicing me into outer space on the deep penetration of his Hamitic prick, my black brother worked a forefinger into the front of my cleft, just ahead of his ebon shaft, giving my button a sort of rolling massage that all but put me into rigid orgasm a number of times.

However, this was not a condition I desired, since a girl who attains it remembers little or nothing of the intense joys that sent her there ... and, thanks to Daddy's tutoring of the night before, I was somehow able to push back the rich red tide of darkness each time it threatened to black me out with delight.

I flattened my boobs against Terry's rib cage and kept my streaming cunt bobbing and driving on his codpiece until I could feel his coming begin to gather ... when I sat upright on his massive meat and leaned against the backrest he had made for me by up-bending his knees with his thighs close together. Extending my hands down and backward, I was able to encircle these twin black pillars and get a grip on his lean firm buttocks.

Thus braced, I put my flooded crotch in rhythmic motion once more, circling his scrotum with my juicy cunt in steady rhythm and nipping and tightening my vaginal and cervical muscles around the long, black prick that filled my tunnel to such delightful repletion. While the shift of position delayed his climax, it did not cause him to hold back for long. Within minutes, I felt that involuntary wild throb the length of my cunt; that sure prelude to male orgasm that invariably brings my own cup of joy to running over.

I planted my labia firmly against the base area of Terry's big, black, beautiful dong and there I held it while I milked his spurting cock of its sweetest cream, deep in my core, until the whole world felt flooded with semen and pussy juice.

When at last this memorable piece was over and the great floods of pleasure reduced to little minnow-flicks of afterglow spasms, there I was, still seated on Terry's loins, still leaning back against his thighs, most important still impaled on that eight-inch Hamitic prick that never lay down and died.

I could tell by the yielding of its surface to my muscle-pressure that it was no longer in a state of arousal even though it still filled my soppy tunnel of love to repletion ... and, for the moment, I was quite content to let it lie that way. After all, I needed a little rest and, under such conditions, with that big, black baton still stuffed deep up my hole, how could I lose.

Looking down, I could see the white ring of sperm and pussyjuice around the base of his dong, thanks partly to the hairlessness of his India ink jock. The smoothness of his skin was like satin, yet it was unmistakably male ... as masculine as the black cock that remained upright in my hole even after the thorough hosing it had just given me.

I gave the base of it a tender squeeze with my sopping labia and nymphae and had the pleasure of seeing the ring of white sex fluids thicken and then break as a tiny rivulet made its way slowly down into the folds of his scrotum toward the wrinkled, black sac of his balls. Things like that, after a successful fucking, always give me a charge. I mean, they're so human and natural and sort of gentle after the full, fierce primitive encounter of the sex act itself.

Lifting my eyes to meet my brother's, I said, "Terry, what's with Uncle Jake?"

"What do you mean, what's with him?" Terry countered. "I mean, he's one of us ... and a damned useful member of the family, too. The original Mr. Fixit-and in all fifty states."

I sighed and said, "Okay ... but I don't think any of the rest of you would have taken advantage of me the way he did while I was helpless and blindfolded."

Terry shifted his buttocks under me, and the resulting thrust of his prong in my hole caused me to hang on for dear life as a sweet little spasm went shuddering through me. He smiled up at me fondly, perfectly aware of what pleasure his move had given me, then said, "Maybe not ... Uncle Jake really loves his nooky. He's the cunt-happiest of all of us, and that's going some."

"You can say that again!" I affirmed and gave my vaginal muscles a slow contraction around my black brother's big, black cock that caused it to stiffen if not to grow larger in my sticky-sweet tunnel of love. A quick look around had assured me that the rest of the family present was thoroughly occupied in various ways, and that for once Terry and I could get away with going for a double. Then, too, I had just passed my ordeal by intercourse and I figured I had a right to do what I pleased on this day of all days.

I should have known better. In the Martin family, nobody gets away with anything unless everybody is in on it. I was just getting us rolling with the laziest of easy lateral figure-eights and Terry had just placed his hands on the very top of the inside of my thighs, so that his thumbs could work havoc with my clit, when two strong pairs of arms pulled my already juicing cunt right off the pillar of joy that was making it juice, holding me helpless in mid air ... still mere inches above the cream-covered crown of my black brother's beautiful rigid prick, although I might as well have been a mile above it since none of my frantic downthrusts enabled my hungry cunt to renew the contact it so deeply desired.

It was Leona and Uncle Jake, who had been engaged in a particularly loud, slurpy sixty-nine when last I had examined the scene around me. I had no idea either of them possessed such strength but, working in perfect team together, they held me as helpless as a new-born baby, carrying me to one side of the big floor-bed and dropping me on my rump ... so hard that it shook me and I could not move for a few moments.

My beautiful blonde sister Leona took full advantage of my incapacity to leap like a golden panther atop Terry's black loins and, lowering the boom of her cunt with a sinuous, twisting, corkscrew motion, replacing my hole with her own on that lovely, fully roused pillar of Hamitic meat. In seconds, she was using it to flush her hole joyously with intricate cinder-shifting rolls of her loins and buttocks that wrought instant response in her partner.

As for me, by the time I recovered my senses, I was being finger-fucked and otherwise mauled by the repulsive fat man I had disliked almost at first sight. Uncle Jake's pudgy fingers did dreadful things to my still flooding hole, while his bulging brown eyes bleared into mine and his cunt-like lips sought my own and thrust a thick wet tongue past the barrier of my teeth before I could put a stop to his activities.

His fat, hairy body reeked with sweat and semen and he pulled me under him with all the adroitness of a longshoreman wielding a sack, pushing and prodding me until he was full in my saddle, then ramming his short but over-thick prick right into my reluctant tunnel of love.

Or was it reluctant? Although contact with this repulsive relative made my skin crawl, what happened inside of my hole could hardly be called indicative of any reluctance on the part of the sexual area of my body. Even my nipples stood up at rigid attention as the hair of his chest scraped my boobs and an unwanted flood of pussyjuice was released by the lining of my cunt as that thick, somewhat stubby prick filled its middle and lower portions to bursting point.

All the time, he was pressing my lips with his own and all but choking me with the thickness of the tongue he had thrust into my mouth at the outset. I dug my fingernails into his soft, flabby flanks to repel him, but this bit of desperate sadism seemed merely to increase his heaving passion as, seeming to crush me into the mattress with the dome of his belly, he sent his cock plunging in and out of my flowing cunt with piston-like force and regularity.

I began to feel the thrusts of panic as well as of his thick prick, and all I wanted was to get out of the grip of this man I so hated on sight whose cock caused such treachery in my cunt. The only thing I could think of in my unhappy plight was to bite ... right around the middle of his fat tongue ...