Chapter 6
The two women were too lost in their lust to object to Carl's invasion. Carlotta, delirious with pleasure, reached out for Carl's huge cock, as though she had been expecting it.
Keeping her mouth on Caroline's humping pussy, Carlotta swung her body around on the enormous, sex-covered bed, making her dildo-filled cunt available to Carl's newly arrived fuck-rod.
Carl withdrew the huge dildo from Carlotta's cunt and let it lay idle on the damp satin sheet.
He spread her eager legs further apart, watching her writhing body tremble with desperate desire for his cock.
Caroline watched her brother aim his long hard iron at the target of the pussy of the woman who eating her hot cunt. She saw him holding his cock in his hands, brandishing its tumescence as he stabbed the opening of Carlotta's hole with his bulbous head.
She watched the cock slide into the hot hole, slipping in easily at first as the hungry cunt sucked it in greedily. Then Carlotta's cunt was shocked by the enormity of the weapon. Despite her hunger, the hole resisted Carl's further invasion.
But it didn't deter the horny boy. He pushed his cock harder and deeper into the surprisingly tight cunt. He felt it squeezing his stick in its hot, wet embrace.
Carl felt the walls of Carlotta's pussy clinging to his hard fuck pole. He felt the cavity of her cunt widen for his entry. The warm tender tissues of Carlotta's hole stretched as he plunged his great cock deeper into her dark, torrid cave.
Carlotta squirmed her pelvis, lowering her cunt to the great fat root of Carl's pulsing prick.
As she struggled to accommodate more of the boy's hot horny cock, Carlotta gulped like a glutton on the young girl's gash, gobbling Caroline's pussy flesh, digging her tongue into the hole. She had one hand on Caroline's bush, exploring the fleshy folds, seeking the quivering clit. Her other hand was wrapped around Carl's balls, pushing against them to cram his cock into her cunt.
Caroline pushed her cunt into Carlotta's face, then moved her body slightly to aim her clit at the sharply flicking tongue.
Carlotta felt the pink pearl of Caroline's clit on her tongue and tasted the salty sweetness of the hot female berry.
She licked it eagerly as Carl shoved his huge cock all the way into her cunt. She felt his heavy balls slap against her ass. She writhed on the bed, squirming on the big stick she held tightly in her hot hole.
She moved her face under Caroline's box, licking the clit, using her mouth like a switch to turn the young girl on. She darted her tongue from clit to cunt, cunt to clit, back and forth with speed and heat.
Carl banged his cock in and out of Carlotta's hole, fucking her hard and fast, feeling the pressure of cum building in his big heavy balls.
He watched his sister banging her clit against the eating mouth of the woman he was fucking. He felt as extraordinary thrill, knowing that his cock was fucking his father's woman, who in turn was licking his sister's clit.
Carl was fucking the cunt his father fucked; he was fucking the woman who ate his sister. He felt his cock throb with vital virility. He pumped it in and out of Carlotta's wet fuckhole, getting ready to shoot his load all the way into her body.
He watched as Carlotta fingers pushed into his sister's pussy. He saw the huge dildo on the satin sheet.
Thrusting hard into Carlotta, Carl took the dildo in his hands and slapped it once lightly on Carlotta's face.
Carl reached between his sister's slender white thighs, feeling the dribbles of hot pussy liquor on her soft skin. He raised her body, lifting her cunt from Carlotta's face.
He held the big, threatening dildo straight in the air, so that his sister could see the size of it.
He pushed the head of the rubber fuck wand against the lips of his sister's hole.
He pulled his huge cock almost all the way out of Carlotta's cunt, then rammed it forcefully back in as he shoved the dildo into his sister's twat. Both women were filled with hard fuck power at the same time.
Caroline moaned at the sudden insertion of the dildo. Her cunt stretched to take it all in, but she felt its hardness tearing her apart, ripping her resisting tissues. She could not open wide enough. Her wet pussy walls clung to the long rubber cock as Carl slid it back and forth in her tight hole, pushing and pulling with his fast working hands.
With his other hand, Carl grabbed Carlotta's heaving tits, squeezing one, then the other.
He banged his bloated cock in and out of the woman's cunt, screwing her hard with his male fury.
Carlotta squirmed under him, rotating her body to make his cock circle in her hole. She felt his pulsing immensity filling her with deep satisfaction, and she moved her hot box up and down his long hard rod, thrilling his sensitive skin with her burning honey.
Hungrily, Carlotta returned her mouth to Caroline's clit. She stretched her pointy red tongue and flicked at the tender quivering fruit inside Caroline's wet fleshy folds.
Carl reached under Carlotta's body, lifting her from the stomach, making her kneel on the bed while he fucked her cunt from the rear.
As he humped into her kneeling body he banged Carlotta's face against Caroline's clit, doubling his sister's pleasure.
He kept one hand on Carlotta's swinging tits and another on the base of the dildo which he rammed in and out of Caroline's over-fucked cunt.
Carlotta took Carl's big cock from the rear and rubbed her mouth, her moist lips and her sticky tongue, against Caroline's clit, which thrilled to the fast movements of the rubber cock in and out of her hungry cunt.
Carlotta felt Carl's hand desert her tits and attack her swooning clit. The sudden touch of his fingers on the hot center of her burning sex nearly killed her with ecstatic shock. Volts of overpowering pleasure startled her flesh as fast hot thrills careened through her body,, rushing through her raging blood.
She felt her cunt convulse with the power of Carl's hard banging cock. Her flesh melted, simmered, boiled and overflowed. She was in flames and her clit exploded on Carl's pressing finger tip.
He thrust into her deep, filling her dark cave with his meat, and he felt her body tremble, vibrating spasmodically on his hard rod.
"Ahhh, help!" she cried out, chanting her pleasure.
Caroline was too oblivious to know that Carlotta was coming. She banged her clit against the woman's tongue, thrilling to the moist lips in her drenched bush.
Carlotta licked quickly at Caroline's clit, seizing the fat dildo in her hands and, in her delirium helping Carl bang it into the girl's gash.
Caroline pressed hard against Carlotta's mouth, and felt the huge dildo filling her hole as Carl and Carlotta pressed it all the way into her.
Her building orgasm peaked, hit its ultimate zenith. It went off like a rocket between her legs, killing her with unbearable ecstasy.
She felt the huge rubber balls of the dildo's base press against the lips of her pussy and hard against her asscheeks.
She came furiously, as she never had before.
The two women were totally spent. Sex had thrilled their hot bodies and cooled their burning souls.
Carl hammered his iron hard in Carlotta's hole, pumping like a crazy fuck-machine. He felt his balls slap against her buttocks as her luxuriant pubic hair meshed with his. He ground his steel flesh into her, feeling the hot sensations of their coupled meat.
His balls clenched into a fighting fist as he banged hard into her hot oasis, entering into the final throes of fucking.
He grabbed her knees and moved them back so they could no longer support her body. She flopped head-down on the mattress, and Carl pressed her body down hard, making her prone and prostrate.
He raised his powerful body in his arms, holding himself up to hump hard into her cunt. He hammered fast and brutally, feeling his sperm explode in his heavy balls.
He felt it rage up the pulsing pipe of his prick. It jetted out mightily from the head of his cock and splashed hotly into Carlotta's cunt. His thick cum filled her hole, drowning her with his scorching male seed.
Carlotta felt Carl's fiery wad blast into her already incendiary furnace, flooding her hole with the combustion of his cum.
She moaned in final ecstasy, as did Caroline, watching her brother pop his stud rocks in the swooned cunt of the prone woman.
Carl collapsed against Carlotta's body. He reached for Caroline's cunt and withdrew the dildo, touching her wet pubic forest.
He wanted to eat his sister's cunt, but he was suddenly exhausted.
Caroline wanted to suck the sperm and the honey of Carlotta's pussy from her brother's great, exploded fuck rod, but she found herself too spent to do anything but fall down upon the sheet, her legs spread out, her groin close to Carlotta's famous profile.
Caroline was awakened by the wind of Carlotta's heavy breathing on her bush. She heard the sounds of Carlotta's snoring. The actress was sleeping off her drunken, over-sexed stupor.
Caroline smiled reflectively, thinking of the performance Carlotta would give before the cameras in a few hours.
She heard her brother snoring. Carl was sleeping upon Carlotta's back, his cock still entrenched in her hole.
Caroline looked at her naked brother's body, and fought a terrible urge to lean over and kiss his hard, lightly hair-covered ass. She would have liked to lick his sweaty asshole, to spread his legs and dart her tongue over his balls.
But she knew that she could not do it. It would lead to more, and then more. However much she desired her younger brother and wanted to fuck with him, Caroline knew that it would not be right. If they fucked once, they would never be able to stop. They had to deny this one wonderful urge that, once started, would never leave them alone. If they fucked once, they would never be able to keep their hands or their groins off each other.
It would be the way if she ever allowed anything to happen between herself and her father. Once begun, there would be escape. Her desire for her father's love expressed through his body, her desperate yearning for his mammoth cock, was the obsession of her life. She wanted her father and her brother more than anything in the world. She would gladly be poor and hungry, without clothes or cars or perfume, if only she could lie forever in their arms, kissing their beloved masculine bodies, feeling their hard cocks in her cunt and asshole. She would give everything up without a wince or tingle of regret. But she knew that it must never be.
The thought saddened her as she lay close to the coupled slumbering bodies of Carl and Carlotta. Listening to her brother snoring quietly against Carlotta's moist back, Caroline closed her eyes for a moment to relish a fantasy.
She imagined that she, Carl and her father were in this room, naked, in bed, fucking. She imagined Carl's hot cock up her cunt, and her father's enormous male organ stuffing her asshole with its potency.
Then she imagined it the other way, Carl in her ass and Daddy in her pussy. They fucked her wonderfully at the same time, and she felt both their cocks in her body, humping, pumping, screwing her to life and death at the same time.
She imagined their sperm blasting into her body, filling her with their violent life.
She forced herself to open her eyes and apprehend the reality of the room. It was too much for her. The fantasy was too lovely to come true, and the reality was too deeply lost in history. She knew that Carlotta would go away. The happy episode would not be repeated. It would remain the closest approximation she would ever have to real sex with her brother.
And the taste of Carlotta's cunt was the closest she would ever come to tasting her father's sperm. She had only imagined its presence in Carlotta's box. It had not really been there; she had not really tasted it. She had only dreamed, and dreaming was all she could ever do.
Quietly, she moved her limbs, stole away from the bed and left Carl and Carlotta to snore in the somnolent post-coital embrace. Neither one woke, or even stirred, as she left the room.
Caroline took a robe from her room and went downstairs.
She went into the pantry and made herself a drink. She felt a melancholy she knew that nothing could dispel, but liquor would help, if only a little.
She lit a cigarette and took her drink out to the patio. She sat down by the edge of the pool.
She dipped her leg into the water and felt the cool caress soothe her for a moment. Then she felt a tear swelling involuntarily in her eyes.
She kicked the water angrily, splashing herself accidentally in the process.
She gulped from her glass, feeling the strong Scotch burning her throat. But she knew it would not help. Her life was ruined by intense desire for what she could not have, the two things in the world that she had to deny herself. She could never have her father or her brother. She would never have the two pleasures that could satisfy her.
She thought of Carl and Carlotta. They were up in the bedroom together, their bodies joined while they slept. How would they face each other when they awakened from their dazed stupor? What would they say to one another.
More important, what would she say. She didn't know what would happen when the intoxication wore off and Carlotta became her cunty self again.
She knew she could not face either of them in the morning. She could face Carl again, in a while; she doubted that she could ever look Carlotta in the eye again.
She had to get away. There was no choice.
She ran upstairs, dressed, threw some things in a small suitcase, scribbled a note to Carl, left it on his bed and got in her car. She drove quickly, and late that morning she arrived in San Francisco. The morning haze was just beginning to lift.
Caroline had no particular love for San Francisco. She had come only because she needed to get away from the messy scene she had left on Wilshire Boulevard, and to get away she had to go someplace.
She drove down to Fisherman's wharf and parked her car. She spent a few hours wandering around the Wharf. She had a drink at the delightful bar at the foot of Hyde Street. An attractive man flirted with her and offered her lunch. She did not want sex, but she did want some lunch. Just the sound of the word made her realize how ravenously hungry she was.
She knew that the man probably wanted to fuck her, and she supposed that he would expect her to put out for him after lunch. She was not certain that she would want to but she accepted his offer anyway .They had perfect Margaritas and an excellent Mexican lunch in Ghirardelli Square. It turned out that the man had known Caroline's mother. In fact, he had once known Muriel in the biblical sense. He was candid with Caroline about the short affair they had had years ago in Los Angeles, when Muriel was still married to Simon. Caroline found the man a delightful luncheon companion and his anecdotes about Muriel amused her. She marveled at the smallness of the world.
It was apparent that the man did not want to have sex with her any longer. Caroline supposed that he had qualms about fucking the daughter of a woman he had been with in the past.
They parted cordially, having enjoyed a brief interlude, knowing that they would not meet again.
Caroline walked the few short blocks to the Cannery and looked at everything that was for sale, wanting none of it.
She began to think about Muriel. It was funny that she had bumped into one of her mother's lovers. Caroline had not been thinking of Muriel when she decided to drive to San Francisco, but now her mother was in her mind. It would be silly not to pay the bitch a visit, and she was already at the bottom of Russian Hill. Muriel lived only a short distance away, a steep walk up the hill.
Caroline had not seen her mother in years. She was curious. She decided it would be an amusing way to spend a few hours.
She decided not to telephone. It would be better, more of a shock, for her to simply arrive.
She boarded the tourist-crowded cable car at the foot of Hyde Street. She had rarely seen so many cameras in her life. All the overweight people from Oregon, Iowa, New Jersey, or wherever, snapped their flashbulbs in each other's faces, wanting to capture forever their memories of riding up and down the steep hills on the curious cable cars.
She was glad to get off. Her eyes stung from the intense light of the flashbulbs, and everything looked white to her for a few moments. The sky and the bay looked white and Alcatraz seemed bleached out.
She had never been to her mother's house on Chestnut Street, but it was not hard to find. She could recognize her mother's house by the unkept lawn, the windows with every curtain drawn, and the car with a dented fender in the garage. Caroline knew that no one but her mother would live so chaotically in the midst of Russian Hill's staid elegance.
The small patch of grass facing the street looked like weeds growing in a desert. Caroline knew that Muriel could afford to engage someone to come once a week to care for it, but her mother was simply too lazy to bother with such details. She was not too lazy to have her hair done before a rendezvous, she was not too lazy to maintain a constant supply of every kind of liquor imaginable. But she was too indolent to care for anything that did not concern her body or her appetites.
Caroline supposed it was this trait in Muriel's character that had made her. such an insouciant mother.
Naturally, her mother was at home. Caroline was not surprised to find Muriel as slim as ever, as sleek as ever, as coifed and polished and young-looking as ever. It did not surprise Caroline to find her mother this way, because Muriel had always taken care of herself. It was her one achievement in life. It was a little amazing that the bitch could keep it so well together, despite all the drinking and debauchery she had indulged in since the day she slurped out her own mother's womb, probably with a hairy cunt, a throbbing clit and a martini in her hand.
Muriel was astounded to see Caroline at her door. The sight of her daughter almost made the woman drop her glass.
"Caroline, for God's sake, when did you get in town, you look marvelous, how are you." Muriel babbled effervescently.
That was the way Muriel spoke, asking questions and making statements in one breath so that it was always impossible to reply.
"I'm all right, mother. You look marvelous, too, everything considered," Caroline said, qualifying her compliment.
"What do you mean everything considered?"
Muriel twisted her face, which was never in repose, into an expression of mock-bafflement.
"Nothing, mother, forget it. Are you going to ask me in, or are we going to in the doorway like old hags?"
"Of course, my love, come in," Muriel said.
Caroline winced. Her mother always called every one 'my love,' using the same endearment for bartenders as she did for her own daughter.
She winced again as her mother leaned forward to give Caroline one of her cold, meaningless kisses.
Then Caroline saw Muriel turn her head slightly, offering her cheek to Caroline's mouth. This was the cue for Caroline to give her mother a sweet daughterly peck, but Caroline coldly ignored it, stepping past her mother to enter the house.
Flowers were dead in vases, glasses with dissolved ice cubes Uttered the tables, magazines were scattered on the chairs and the floor.
"What's the matter, mother, does the cleaning woman have a hangover?" Caroline asked tartly.
"As a matter of fact she's in Hawaii. I think the cleaning woman has more money than I do. Would you like a drink, my love?" Muriel asked, with no punctuation in her voice.
Caroline hesitated. It was only four in the afternoon and she had already had three drinks, one in the bar at the bottom of Hyde Street and two Margaritas at lunch. But she had to have something if she was to endure an afternoon with Muriel. They really had nothing to talk about; they might as well get drunk together.
"That would be nice, mother," Caroline said.
"Martinis all right? It's such a bother to fuss with different drinks."
"Fine, mother. I'll help you."
They went to the kitchen. Caroline was appalled by the number of empty Gin bottles lined up along the wall. There were cracker crumbs on the stove and open anchovy cans on the counter. Her mother was living in an expensive slum.
Caroline remembered Carlotta's line of the night before.
"So, mother," Caroline said, taking the glass and sipping from it, "tell me, how's the fucking up here?"
Muriel nearly choked on her olive. "My God, Caroline! What a question for a daughter to ask!"
"Actually, mother, it's quite a natural question, considering that you are my mother and I am your daughter. Mothers are supposed to help their daughters at certain stages of life. Or didn't you know that? Didn't you know that you were supposed to tell me, for example, about menstruation, or boys, or sex, or how not to get knocked up? Did it never occur to you that a daughter is supposed to learn certain things from her mother, and if she doesn't she has to learn them somewhere else?" Caroline was startled by her own eloquence; years of resentment expressed themselves in her tirade; years of anger and hurt poured out despite herself.
"Caroline, please. Can't we have a nice friendly talk without exhuming all the unfortunate debris of the past? Do we have to go into this right away? After all, you just got here." Muriel protested weakly.
"No, mother, you're wrong. I did not 'just get here.' I've been here for seventeen years. You just never had the time to notice." Caroline stared blank-faced at her mother, sipping her martini. She sucked the liquor greedily into her body, as though the visit from her daughter were an ordeal for which she needed instant strength.
Caroline watched her mother's eyelids lower and her enormous dark eyelashes flutter. Muriel's attention was focused on the drink in her hand.
Muriel turned her back on Caroline and walked out of the kitchen and back into the slovenly living room.
Caroline followed. She sat down beside her mother on the sofa, sipped her drink, lit a cigarette. She was silent for a while.
When she spoke her voice was determined. She wanted her mother to realize how negligent she had been.
"Mother, I know all about you. I know that you were never faithful to Daddy for more than ten minutes at a time. I know that you've had as many cocks up your garbage can cunt as you've had drinks. You've probably had more abortions than hangovers. I can never forgive you. It isn't just the fucking around that I resent; it's the total neglect of certain obligations you accepted, or should have, when you got married and had children. I'm not saying that every woman who marries has to be one hundred percent monogamous. That's a little archaic, maybe even unnatural, I don't know. But you don't rub your filth in your husband's face. You don't advertise your cunt in every bar in Los Angeles, as though you were having a garage sale. And you don't just ignore your children. You don't let your daughter remain ignorant of what's going to happen to her own body. I had my first period in a classroom, Mother. No one had told me it would happen. I was scared to death, and too frightened to ask anyone about what was happening to me."
Muriel looked at her daughter wryly. "Oh, God, Caroline. What was I to do. I'm sorry for what you went through. I'm sorry for Carl and for Simon, too. What else can I say. To say that I'm sorry doesn't undo anything, does it! I guess there are some women who should never get married and never have children, and I suppose I'm one of them. I can't help being what I am, Caroline. You can't ask me to be something I'm not. Maybe I can't even ask you to understand me, just as you can't ask me to understand you. Maybe we are not meant to understand each other. But, God, your first period must have been years ago. Why are you bringing it up now? Do you have to dwell on it forever?"
Caroline looked at her mother with an expression of complete disdain. Muriel was disgusting.
Muriel crossed her long, beautiful legs. "Maybe you are just one of the mistakes in my life, my love. But can't we let bygones be bygones?" Muriel raised her glass, smiled dazzlingly and clinked glasses with Caroline.
Caroline was appalled. She stared at her Mother, unable to adjust her face in any suitable expression.
"Good, that's settled. Let's talk about something else. Oh, I know. Come upstairs with me. I found some marvelous dresses yesterday. They were so divine I couldn't resist them. Come upstairs with me and I'll show them to you." Muriel frothed happily. Other than cocks and liquor, clothes were her only interest in life. She invited her daughter to approve of her taste and her acquisitions as she would any other woman. It was as though she were ingratiating herself to the wife of a man whose husband she had slept with. Muriel was offering her daughter some silly, typical girl-talk.
Muriel reached for Caroline's hand and dragged her from the sofa and up the stairs to her bedroom, which was even messier than the living room. Clothes were scattered everywhere.
Muriel opened an enormous walk-in closet that was brimming with clothes. Eagerly she began to show her daughter her newest purchases.
Caroline spotted a full-length negligee. It was pale blue transparent fabric, with soft feather plumes at the hem and around the plunging neck.
"That one is lovely, Mother. Why don't you model it for me?" Caroline said.
"Of course, my love," Muriel said, always grateful for an opportunity to model clothes and show off her superbly preserved body.
Without any hesitation Muriel began to peel her clothes off in front of Caroline.
"While you're at it, Mother, I'd love to try on that black one," Caroline said, pointing to a negligee she spotted hanging from a hook.
"Of course," her mother said, handing it to Caroline.
Caroline watched her mother undress.