Chapter 7

"Come on, Tim, do it! Put your cock inside me!" Sally said impatiently.

"I'm doing it, I'm doing it!" He had it poised at the right spot and hunched forward. The round head plowed in a short distance and stopped, smack up against a mysterious barrier.

"Hey, what's that?" He was shivering with excitement and frustration. He pulled out and pushed in again, and was stopped dead at the same place. "It just won't go in! You're too tiny, I guess." He sighed unhappily.

"Oh!" Sally's hands flew to her mouth. "I forgot, they told us all about it in hygiene class. There's a-whatchamacallit-a hymen! It's a kind of membrane in there." She giggled. "The teacher told us to be very careful not to break it, or some stuff like that."

Now Tim remembered, too. It was there to prove his sister was a virgin, and if he were a nicer guy, he'd quit right then and let her continue to be one. Only, his cock was so hot and tight, his balls so superfull! "I'll have to break it," he warned her.

"Yeah, so do it," she urged. "You push down, Tim, and I'll push back. Ready? One, two, three-GO!"

Re rammed forward with all his young strength, even though it squeezed and pinched his tender meat. At the same time Sally slammed her pussy forward, using her whole body, scrabbling at the sand with her hands for purchase. Something gave way.

"Owwwwwww!" Sally roared. A quick,.sharp pain stabbed through her.

To Tim, it was the release from pain, and a sudden burst of pleasure. He rolled his eyes skyward, savoring the way his cock was deliciously buried in her hot, tight, wet pussy passage. "Hot spit," he said happily.

Sally made a face and gritted her teeth. But the pain only lasted a second and she began to feel the glow from her cunt spreading out through her. Even her fingers and toes tingled with the novel pleasure. She could feel her narrow sheath relax around his hot meat, and the profusion of juices oiling his way.

"Wow, golleeee! It feels good already," she sighed. "Doesn't it, Tim? Doesn't it feel great?"

"Sure does," he laughed. "This is something like it, Sal." The sun shone brightly down, the waves lapped unendingly at the shore, a mild breeze curled around his head. He'd never felt better in his life.

He began to move experimentally, jabbing her with his stiff prick in the yielding sides of her vagina. Then he settled down into a straightaway fucking motion, more or less evenly tempoed. Sally was working hard, he saw-too hard. Her white teeth were clamped onto her lower lip, and her face looked serious and involved. But she picked up his movement, smacking back at him, her strong young back sending her surging forward so her clit made delicious contact with his pelvic bone. Then her mouth loosened and a wide happy smile crept over it.

"I could go on doing this all day," she said dreamily, and her brother laughed because that was what she said about everything. If Mom and Dad only knew, he thought, but his hard knot of anger at his mother dissolved and melted way. Dad would just about kill him though, if he knew he was fucking Sally....

But Max for a change didn't have his daughter on his mind. He'd gone into town for groceries and some booze, and once it was locked into the camper he decided to stop at the hotel for a quick drink. He couldn't get little Rosalia out of his mind, couldn't decide if he'd been smart or dumb. He didn't really think she'd be hanging around the bar, but if she did, and he could see her by daylight, maybe he'd know. It was entirely possible that she'd look a tired twenty-four, like a real hooker, cheap and tough. On the other hand, if she were still as young and desirable, as fresh and tiny as he'd thought, well... he patted the pocket where he carried his billfold. They weren't spending much when they camped out. Maybe he'd just invest in a little teenage cooze.

Rosalia wasn't there. He had a beer, and bought the bartender a drink. Then Pedro bought him one.

"But, senor, not cerveza, not beer-oh, no! Have you tried our own liqueur? It's called Damiana and it is very, very special. Sip it as you would a brandy."

The almost colorless liquid had a strange but interesting scent and flavor. It lingered on the tongue, but it was elusive, because he'd never tasted anything quite like it before.

"Let's have another one, Pedro. What's it made of?"

"A plant which only grows here in Baja, nowhere else in the entire world, senor! People believe it is a-how you say it? Afrodisiaco, you understand?"

"Aphrodisiac, sure. Gives you the hots, makes you sexy, right"

"Correcto!"

At least this was getting the conversation turned in the right direction. "Good thing I wasn't drinking it the other night when that Rosalia was here," he said casually.

"Ah, yes, what a pity she's left."

So that was that. But he had a few more drinks and got into an interesting conversation. Pedro told him that the local females were either good girls, in which case there was nothing doing, or else they were whores-no in between. "Not like the gringo ladies," he grinned. He had a few stories to tell about American women who visited expressly in order to "make the love" with almost any Mexican who could be dragged off to a bedroom. True or not, they were good tales to tell the boys when he got back to the shop.

But Pedro's favorite story, which Max wasn't sure he believed, was about the special treat laid on for sportsmen in the days before the road came this far. "There were no women, you understand, senor. But these rich men with their big fishing boats, they wanted some fun, anyhow."

For two hundred pesos, it seemed, a local man would sacrifice a large goose. "They fuck it in the part that lays the eggs, comprendes?" Pedro rolled his eyes and laughed. "The goose, she is very, very tight, and very warm!"

"No shit?"

"And for another two hundred pesos, they keel the goose!"

"Huh?"

"Yes, yessss! When the man, he is about cum, verdad? And the goose, when she dies... well, they tell me the spasms they are very exciting!"

Max thought about that for a while. When he left, a little drunk, he stopped by the liquor store and bought a bottle of brandy and two of the

Damiana liqueur. He found a thermos bottle top in the camper and poured in a healthy slug of brandy, and drove back to the beach with it balanced on the open glove compartment door. It was good brandy, it went down smoothly. He had a buzz on, and he had a hard-on, too. It felt good; he hoped to hell he could keep it and use it to some good. If the kids were swimming or playing ball, and Helen was alone, he'd get her to try the Damiana. He didn't want to wait until night, he wanted to fuck her right now. Give her a shooter or two of Damiana and see if it lived up to its reputation.

Helen was horny too, and irritated because Max stayed away so long. Damn him, he'd probably picked up on that little teenage whore and was having himself a ball!

The kids had disappeared, too. She walked down the line of campers, stopping now and again to exchange a few words with other Americans. Sally and Tim weren't anywhere in sight. She wasn't really worried, they were sensible kids, but it added to her irritation. They knew better than this, they knew they should check in and let her know where they were headed. Especially in a strange place, a foreign country. Her whole family was being extremely selfish and thoughtless, and her perpetual condition of horniness didn't help her mood.

They must have gone down the beach in the other direction, south. Maybe they were shelling again. She threaded her way back through the crowds of little kids and dogs, past all the other campers, past her own isolated cabana, toward the deserted stretch of beach.

She hoped to hell they were together. Tim was reliable; he was old enough to have a little freedom. But Sally was a different story. Her age, and she was a girl-Helen just hoped she'd find the kids together.

As a matter of fact, they were very much together.

"Now let's do it like Mrs. Watshername," Sally said eagerly. "You know, like dogs do it." She thought fucking was the most delightful new game two people could play. And they both won!

"Hey, kiddo," Tim said, laughing, "how's about a little rest period, huh?" He lay back on the sand and looked at her fondly. For a girl, for a sister, she was all right. But she'd just about drained him and he knew it'd be a while before he could get it up again.

"Oh, sure, Tim." She plopped down beside him, digging her toes in the sand. "This is the best vacation I ever, ever had."

Tim patted her hip. "Listen, kid, you've got goosebumps all over you. We'd better get dressed and head back before they send out a search party."

Sally yawned. "It is getting chilly," she admitted. "But Tim, we can do this again tomorrow, can't we? And the day after that, and the-"

"Yes, and the day after that," he interrupted. He pulled on his sweat shirt and began to hunt for his shorts and jeans.

Sally was just fastening the fly of her jeans when her mother came around the dune. Her hands flew to cover her little bare tits. She shot a glance at her brother, who with his back turned, was struggling into his pants. Sand flew as he shook a leg, and then drew the jeans on.

"Sally! Tim!" Helen gasped, not quite taking it all in. They must have been swimming, of course. But there were no swim suits, no towels. Most damning of all, there was no water on either of them. Sally's mop of hair had sand and bits of twigs in it, but not a trace of moisture.

She gulped, and said again: 'TIM!"

He wheeled around, and guilt was written on his face. "Oh, hi, Mom," he said lamely.

"WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING?"

Sally was frozen with shock. Her mother was furious-the child had never seen her so angry before. It was written on her face. She ignored Sally, but glared at her son as if she could kill him happily. Tim straightened up and stared defiantly back.

"Oh golly," Sally muttered. She was terrified, and all she could think of to do was run. Maybe Tim could handle Mom. In any case, she had to get out of there! She didn't feel the least bit guilty but she couldn't face the storm of her mother's anger. Forgetting she was only half dressed, she dodged around Helen and took to her heels. Sand spurted under her bare feet as she ran full speed toward the camp ground.

"Don't get so excited, Mom," Tim drawled. "You're making a big thing out of ... nothing."

"But what were you doing?"

He forgot his fear as he faced her, because she looked so pretty and desirable. In the first shock she'd gone white, but the color flooded back into her face. Her eyes sparkled with angry frustration. Her chest heaved, making her boobs push against her blouse and he could even see her nipples fluttering under the cloth.

"You're not wearing a bra, Mom," he marveled. It was just plain ridiculous, but in spite of his heavy sex scene with Sally, he was physically stirred again.

"Huh? Bra?" She looked down at herself, and turned even redder. "No, I'm not but-Tim! Don't change the subject!"

"I'm sorry, Mom, it's just that you look so pretty when you're mad." His eyes lingered on the curves of her breasts.

In spite of herself, she felt her anger melt away. She never had been able to resist her son, Max had told her time and again that she spoiled him. She'd always answered that it could not be hurting him, because look what a nice boy he was. Now she felt the same resistance tugging at her will, when he stepped closer and put out a hand to her blouse.

"I just can't help it, Mom, you've got such beautiful knockers," he said sincerely, his fingers closing around the warm resilient flesh. "Ummmmmmmmmm! They're so soft and pretty!"

"Now you stop it," she said, half laughing. "I want you to tell me exactly what you and your sister were up to. Have you been-Tim, look at me! Have you been messing around with her?"

"Uh, messing around? Yeah, I guess you could say so." He squeezed her boob and rubbed his thumb over a nipple. "If she gets tits like yours, Mom, a lot of guys are going to start messing around."

Helen felt helpless. She didn't know what to say to the kids, especially since they were aware of her own swinging activity. Her moral ground was shaky indeed, especially when she didn't have the strength to slap Tim's hand away.

"Listen, hon, Sally's still a little girl! You wouldn't do anything to hurt her, would you?"

"I sure wouldn't," he said fervently, thinking that his sister was far from hurt by what had occurred. "I promise you, Mom." He thought a minute and then added, "But you're not a little girl. We wouldn't hurt each other, would we?"

"Tim, Tim. I'm so confused," she moaned. Her legs were trembling with shock, and she sank to the beach. "But you and me, that's not the point. We were talking about Sally."

Tim sprawled beside her. He knew the worst was over, and if he didn't succeed in what he was trying to do, at least he'd managed to get her past the worst of her temper. His hand grasped her smooth thigh and slid up under her skirt.

"Damn it, Tim, cut that out! Did you already forget what I told you?"

"I didn't forget anything! I didn't forget how you look naked, and how I kissed your pussy, and how you sucked me off when I was so horny." He paused, wanting to put it just right. "You think it's easy for a kid? And if his own mother won't help him out..." He looked down pointedly at the bulge in his crotch.

He wanted to hint, very delicately, that there was no length a boy might go to if he were sexually frustrated, even to having sexual connection with his little sister. He didn't want to come right out and say it, and he wisely thought his mother didn't really want to hear it either.

Helen knew she'd been outsmarted. Damn, why couldn't she have had a stupid son instead of this-this teenage lawyer! She didn't want to think he'd been corrupting little Sally, she was not even going to let herself think it, and Tim knew it.

"I don't know," she said wearily. "Give me a hand up, Tim, and let's go back to the camper. I guess I'll have to talk to your father about all this."

Tim pulled her to her feet and forward, his hands sliding up under her skirt. Her skin was warm and silky, and he pushed his fingers under the bands of her panties. He knew she wouldn't speak to Dad-how could she? He felt the dampness spreading from her pussy and his dick gave a bound.

"Oh Mom," he said, "growing up is so hard!"

She moaned as he tightened his grip on her and rubbed her famished dripping pussy. She never could say no to Tim.