Chapter 5
The drug of passion is never one to be taken lightly. It demands too much of body and soul, and often, in the very brutal totality of its demands, destroys both utterly.
Mr. and Mrs. Brillard were not expected home until Sunday, yet their children had already savored the first few bites of forbidden fruit. It was Saturday. They had experimented and teased during the morning and afternoon, but there seemed so much more to learn. Particularly Sue wanted to possess all the knowledge she could of pleasure and its giving and taking.
After dinner, they all watched television for a while, perhaps occasionally stroking one another or playing absently with vital parts of their anatomies, but generally conserving their sexual strengths for the evening to come. They had already determined that they would spend their last night together as a threesome in their parents' huge bed. There they could romp and frolic to their hearts' content on their last night of freedom from parental supervision. After that, they knew they would have to sneak. They also knew that they could never give up easily on the joys they had all discovered over the last twenty-four hours.
It was eleven o'clock when John finally rose and turned off the television. Neither of the girls protested. Forgetting the clothing they had all shed that morning and scattered over the living room floor, the two girls turned off the living room lights and followed their brother up the flight of stairs to the huge bed in their parents' room.
This time, any modesty any of them might have felt a day before was completely erased. Each wanted to savor ultimate pleasure while at the same time prolonging that pleasure for as long as humanly possible. John, particularly, wanted to exercise the maximum of control, and before getting into bed poured himself a glass of cold water from the bathroom tap. He placed it on the end table beside him, rolled onto the bed and lay on his back.
"You like cock," he said to Sue. "Why not ride the old horse again while I lap Ann a little?"
Neither of the girls protested or even spoke. As if the words were a programmed command which could not be denied, they climbed on the bed. Sue, on her knees, straddled John's hips, again taking his partially erect organ in both her hands to fondle and massage it as she gazed down in childish reverence.
Ann waited a moment, watching Sue's slow reverent movements before inching toward her brother. Before she lifted one bent leg over him, she ran one hand from his groin, up along the length of his torso until it fondled him under the chin.
She looked at him long and infently for a moment, her expression an enigma. Was she feeling love, her brother wondered, or complete sensual hatred? Was she merely stroking his neck in tender passion, or was she actually thinking of strangling him?
It was Ann herself who ended his thoughts. She lifted her left thigh over him and knelt with her hands braced against the headboard. From where he lay, he could look up to her blonde Venus mound, could see the undersides of her huge breasts and the half-smile on her face as she gazed down on him. Through the opening of her legs he could gaze downward to where Sue still fondled his organ, now letting it touch the soft folds of her outer labia.
Then he reached up, put his hands on Ann's hips, and firmly but gently pulled her down so that her opening of love hovered a bare inch away from his mouth. At the same instant he felt the first hot caress of Sue's demanding vagina as she lowered herself just enough to allow the head of his organ to enter the first inch of her vagina. Finally, both girls lowered completely and he was happily drowned in scalding flesh.
Sue moved with agonized slowness, only slightly rolling her hips from side to side so as to experience the continued full penetration of hard flesh within her.
From where she straddled her brother, she could see his stomach and navel, his chest, and then Ann's large firm buttocks resting on his head. Still only allowing her body a slight, easy roll from side to side so that she could alternately press her brother's erect shaft against all the deep-seated nerves of her passionate channel, she lowered her right hand and extended its second finger to lift the tiny tip of her clitoris up and out.
Remembering what John had told her the previous evening about male masturbation, she gently clasped the tiny nipple between thumb and forefinger and began to work the damp flesh in and out as her hips still rolled gently on the muscular hips below her.
This time she, too, wanted to savor each perfect ecstasy of passion before the final climax that she hoped would surge through her body like none she had ever felt before. She knew if she could only keep her brother from ejaculating-by not making her own movements too fast and furious-she might even be able to bring herself to several delicious orgasms. The shaft was in her, hot and hard, pressing against the mouth of her cervix, and she herself could manipulate her clitoris as fast and furiously as she liked.
As she did so she extended her left hand, first to run the fingers softly along John's torso, then to caress first her sister's thigh and hip, then her waist, and finally the large firm mound of left breast. As one hand flicked eager fingers along her clitoris, the other snaked fingers equally as eager along another erect nipple.
Ann meanwhile had lifted her right breast high so that she could extend her tongue to touch its turgid nipple. She could feel an added tingle of pleasure as Sue caressed her other breast and the final ecstasy of her brother's tongue savoring the liquid of her desire below. He was not as gently knowing as Sue, but he moved with greater passion and fury. She, too, hoped to have at least onemaybe two-spasmed orgasms before he finally exhausted himself in Sue's vagina.
John thought only of cold tundra as he moved his tongue mechanically up into Ann's now sodden orifice, as he savored the hot sheath of Sue's gently rolling hips. He alone of the three was determined to give himself no ultimate pleasure by this act-only to wait until the girls had their thrills before suggesting another position that had just come to mind.
The girls' breathing began to increase, Sue's fingers moved more rapidly on her own clitoris and she pressed down harder to capture more of the turgid shaft within her. Ann, too, ground down, trying to get as much increased pleasure from the rapidly moving tongue that slithered up and down within her and snapped delicately against her throbbing clitoris. The pressure of Sue's fingers and hand on her left breast increased. She felt the nipple squeezed hard, but there was no pain.
Behind her she heard Sue gasp the single word, "Guy!" and knew that the girl had had yet another spasm of total release. For a moment she was jealous-almost contemptuous of her kid sisteruntil she began to feel herself tiptoeing, then rushing headlong, toward her own climax. She dropped the breast she had been holding and braced both palms hard against the bed's headboard as she ground her hips brutally down on John's face. She didn't care if she smothered him in her pleasure; perhaps, she half-thought, his dying gasp would flow hot and warm into her, adding even more pleasure to the spasm that was about to roll through her.
And then it happened-the single, blinding convulsion that seemed to tear the very hair from her scalp, to roll down along her body, finally to throb and pulsate in abandoned ecstasy through her more delicate nerves below.
She savored it for long moments, grinding hard downward against the mouth and tongue still moving within her, and then, finally, lifted herself clear of John's panting face.
"Come?" he asked with a smile.
She nodded, then looked down to where Sue still straddled her brother, still played gently with her erect clitoris, a bland and happy smile on her face. She reached over and fondled the younger girl's small breasts absently for a moment, inspecting their taut firmness and small, jutting nipples.
Then, almost like a woman in a dream, she moved close so that she could take one delicate mound in her own mouth to savor the sweet film of glistening perspiration that now covered it.
"Oh, Guy," Sue said as she looked down to see half of her right breast disappear into her sister's hungry mouth. "It's coming again. Wow!"
From where he lay, John could look down to the full panorama of the orgy. Ann seemed oblivious to her sister's remark. She seemed only consumed by one desire, one action. Her lips moved hungrily on Sue's firm flesh as Sue's fingers moved with a furious activity on her own clitoris. The younger girl had not raised her hips once since settling on his hard shaft. She only swayed from side to side, occasionally contracting the inner muscles of her vaginal wall to grip him more tightly before releasing again to sway in a semi-circular motion.
This way, he could savor both the visual and the sensual pleasure of the act without being subjected to his own ejaculation, which would finish him as a performer for too long. He reached out with his left hand and extended one finger to sink it deep into Ann's still dripping vagina. At the same time, his right covered Sue's left breast, kneading, stroking, pinching.
Then he saw Sue close her eyes tightly, clench her teeth, and he felt her begin to spasm from within. For the first time her hips lifted. Once she raised and thrust down again. Twice she did it. Three times. She churned on him, gasping heavily, sending tendrils of unbelievable pleasure through him before she finally relaxed.
His hard shaft was still deep inside her, but now his hand had dropped from her breast and Ann had taken her own mouth away from the other.
Sue remained absolutely still for some time before her eyes finally opened and her mouth relaxed. She looked from her smiling brother to her frowning sister, but did not speak. The expression of sheer, animal satiation on her face seemed all the communication necessary.
"Jesus you're horny!" Ann said at length.
"I like it," Sue countered. "It's sure a lot better than a tongue."
Ann started to reply but held her tongue. John looked from one girl to the other before he spoke.
"How would you both like it? I mean, at once?"
They both looked down to where he lay, fingers laced under his head, smiling broadly.
"You've only got one, silly," Sue said. "How can we both get it at once?"
"Tell you what," he said. "I'm in pretty good shape now. Might not even come at all. Feel like I could keep this rod on forever, but I'll make a deal. First one to get me to come off gets whatever she wants. Fair?"
The girls exchanged knowing glances, then both smiled. They nodded their heads as one.
"Okay," he said. "You both get on your backs, side by side, and each put a pillow under your ass." He pointed over to the end table where Ann had placed the vibrator on entering the room. "Now," he said. "I'll dick one of you maybe two or three strokes while I put that dealie in the other, then switch so I'm in the other while the machine's in the first."
Again the girls looked from him to each other, each smiling with some secret female knowledge. John could feel the tight expansion and contraction of Sue's vaginal muscles on his shaft, the easy, unseen half-movements of her hips designed to bring him closer to climax before the new game began.
"No fair," he said at length. "Hop off and get ready." Almost reluctantly, Sue climbed up and away from her brother, revealing the long glistening shaft of his erection covered with the sweet fluid of her desire. As she and her sister took the pillows from the top of the king-sized bed and snuggled them under their buttocks so as to raise their hips high and eager for their brother's penetration, he rolled off the bed and stood up.
First, he took the glass of cold water he had poured earlier and deliberately bent over so as to insert the length of his hard penis into it. He was going to make this last one as long as possible, he thought, even if he had to use every artificial means he could. He let the cold water in the glass surround his penis for some time, deadening the tingling nerves as much as possible before he replaced it on the end table and then reached for the vibrator Ann had brought upstairs with her.
Then, flicking the machine on so that he could feel the sensuous oscillations in his right hand, he turned again to the bed.
Both girls were lying on their backs, their hips slightly arched by the pressures of pillows beneath them, their eyes intently on his erect organ. Their knees were bent, their legs spread wide in anticipation.
Still beside the bed, he looked lazily from one wide vagina to the other, trying to think which one was the more inviting, the more purely sensual. Was it Ann with her rich covering of blonde hair already forming a completely mature triangle around the pink candle flame of eager labia? Or was it Sue, only half woman witth a tuft of silk barely covering a glistening wet organ that seemed incapable of being satisfied no matter what fuel was thrust into its roaring furnace?
"Come on,". Sue said finally. "You can't stand there all night." She darted her right hand out and grabbed the length of his penis, squeezing hard and pulling the foreskin forward.
He pulled away, but not before the one simple touch had erased all the numbing benefits of the cold water. "All right," he said finally, as he crawled onto the bed. Somehow, Sue's touch-her insatiable eagerness-had annoyed him. He decided to use the vibrator on her and savor Ann's body first. He transferred the machine to his left hand, crawled over the girls' legs so that he now knelt with his manhood, arched high and arrogant, pointing at Ann's huge breasts, and with an almost brutal gesture thrust the whirring machine halfway into Sue's gaping opening.
"Ummm," he heard her say as he eased forward to slam himself deep into Ann's cauldron. Receiving the long shaft of his hot manhood deep in her eager orifice, Ann curled tightly, arched her legs up and clasped him in a scissor lock just above his buttocks. As he thrust, she thrust. As he writhed, she twisted, pounding hard, locking herself tight to him so as to keep his flesh buried deep within her demanding vagina, that seemed already to be spasming alive with unbelievable passion.
He glanced to Sue, contentedly watching them as she moved the vibrator back and forth within her own opening. The half smile on her child-like face seemed to be mocking him, to be taunting him with the face that he might ejaculate long before he thought he would.
With a rougliness verging on brutality, he arched his back and pulled away from Ann, breaking the lock of her legs behind him. He jerked the vibrator from Sue's wet labia and thrust it hard into Ann's gaping vagina. Then he rolled on the bed, over their touching legs, poised for a moment over Sue's invitation, and with maddening slowness thrust himself deep within her.
The smile still remained on her face, but her reaction was totally un-like that of her sister. She had propped herself on her elbows and was staring happily at the point where their two sexes met. Her body remained absolutely motionless as he eased even deeper, pressing hair to hair, hip to hip in a slow grind of passion. Then he waited a long, tingling moment, let his penis drink in the sweet, hot fluid flowing from her innermost depth. Finally, as slowly as he could, he began to ease away from the scalding heat of her vaginal channel. The air of the room seemed ice cold contrasted with the hot demand of her unmoving body. The sweet, innocent smile on her face as she continued to stare at their joining organs never wavered; rather it seemed to heighten his passion by her obsession with the point of their juncture.
He pulled himself almost clear so that only the extreme tip of his shaft now lodged against the sweet folds of her inner labia, resting in slight throbs against the nub of her clitoris. He reached his hand down, angled his organ upward, and stroked the pulsating nipple twice before again slowly sliding deep within the steaming cavity.
Still her body did not move. Her only response seemed to be completely mental. He knew she was feeling every tingling vibration of their twin flesh now melded into a passionate one, yet she seemed unwilling to exert herself in any way. She watched him in sensual curiosity as he moved ever more slowly in and out and in again.
He rested then, pushing hard into her deepest innards, rocking slightly so that although his organ remained planted deeply he could increase and decrease the pressure of his hips on hers. He rested his upper weight on his palms, looking down to her smiling face, her half-glazed eyes, letting his eyes roll over her pert adolescent breasts and then down to the sweet tuft of auburn hair matted against his own.
An agony of pain shot through him. Ann had rolled slightly to grab his scrotum and had brutally squeezed his testicles. There was no delicate sensuousness in the movement-only a vicious demand for his flesh to thrust again into her own.
Still buried deep in Sue, he reached to his side, slid his hand over Ann's wet breasts and down over her soft stomach to where the vibrator still pulsated within her damp lips. He pulled it free at the same moment he released himself from the easy grasp of Sue's dew-heavy vagina.
Again he rolled, this time more gently inserting the vibrator into his younger sister, making sure that the throbbing machine rested high to press its undulating message tight against her clitoris.
He rose to his knees and looked down at Ann, who already had her fingers laced behind his back and was pulling him toward her gaping femininity.
"Christ!" she gasped as she tugged futilely on him. "At least if you're playing big man, you can give me my own kicks."
He leaned slightly forward. "You coming?" he asked.
"I was before you pulled out."
He touched only the tip of his shaft to her, but as he did so she thrust hard upward, and at the same time her hands gave a violent pull to his back. He felt his manhood slam hard into' soft, welcoming flesh as again her hips churned against his.
She locked her legs around him again, laced her arms over his back and violently thrust and bucked. "Yes," she gasped through parted lips, "do it! Oh, fuck me, Johnny. Fuck me good!"
He was still in control-but barely-and if he could only get her to have her own spasmed orgasm first, he would be saved. He wanted to get back into Sue, to feel the slow hot sensuousness of the unmoving girl as opposed to the violent throes of his lust-maddened older sister.
Then he felt the first ticing within the roll of engorged flesh as release broke and began to cascade through her. Ann writhed against him, locked her legs even tighter and began to scream through clenched teeth.
"Oh, Jesus," she gasped. "Oh, Jesus, I'm coming apart. I'm going crazy . . . I'm. . . . "
As she spasmed under him, still desperately thrashing to lock tight, he in turn fought for release from her stranglehold. It was to no avail. She would not let him go until she had pulled the last tingle of sensation possible from his throbbing organ within her.
Finally he felt the first signs of her satiationthe hint of weakness in the grip of her hands and locked ankles-and in that moment of her own weakness, he jerked free.
She writhed on the bed, both her hands clasping the open lips of her dripping organ.
"Oh, you b a s t a r d," she moaned. "You bastard.. . . "
He looked down on her a moment as she twisted this way and that, her eyes tightly closed, her face a twisted mask of frustration. Then he reached to his left, gently eased the pulsating vibrator from
Sue's warm lips and with slow deliberation thrust it deep within Ann's gaping wound.
Her knees snapped higher, her own hands pressed flat against the throbbing machine within her and, still twisting and jerking from side to side, she began to moan in blind ecstasy. The orgasm he had started within her was now mixing with a second perhaps even more intense spasm that was hers alone.
He watched for a moment longer before turning to Sue. She was still smiling although shaking her head slightly from side to side. She reached out and touched his penis tenderly with her left hand then lifted her eyes to his.
"Let's make it last all night," she whispered. "Real slow and easy so it never ends?"
"Yeah," he said as he crawled between her spread legs and again slowly eased his way high and deep into her hot vagina.
Still she didn't respond with her hips or torso. Still she propped herself on her elbows so as better to watch the joining of their two bodies.
"You gonna come in me, Johnny?" she asked, still smiling.
He looked to where Ann was still twisting in her own self-induced orgiastic pleasure.
"Yeah."
"That means I get the prize."
Now he could feel the ever-so-slight first movement of her hips as they started to move with his in lazy sensuous receipt of his organ. "Yeah," he managed, still drinking in the sweet adolescent contours of her nubile body.
"Know what I want?" She was moving rhythmically now, but still with a gentle slowness that at once prolonged the act but increased the detail of pleasure that seemed to tingle every nerve of both their bodies.
"What?" He pushed deep-deeper-within her, rolled his hips in slow rhythm with hers so that he could feel first the smooth flesh of her left thigh, then the mound of Venus, and then the hot warmth of her right thigh, now partially lifted so that the foot could trace a caress along the length of his leg.
"I want you anytime I say." Her slow rhythm began to increase in subtle cadence. It seemed she was moving more slowly outside but that the firm wet muscles of her inner passages were beginning to dance in ever wilder staccato.
"Sure," he gasped as he eased his weight away from her, pulling back and back until finally his glistening organ pulled completely free of her.
She pulled her legs up and sat for a moment Indian fashion on the bed looking seriously at him. Her face seemed almost petulant. Her breasts were rising and falling slightly, and her young, tight vagina was gaping wet and open against the sheets. "Promise?" she said.
He nodded and moved toward her again but she placed a palm on his chest. "Cross your heart?"
"Sure," he said again advancing toward her. "Cross my heart."
Satisfied now, she let the smile again return to her face. She reached out and pulled one of his legs from under him so that he was forced to turn and assume a sitting position, back perpendicular, legs extended before him on the bed.
Then, still with an unbelievably sensuous slowness, she moved toward him and straddled him; and, placing his organ exactly against the hot opening of her own, she slid down to let it sink deeply within her vagina.
They were both sitting now, she on top of him, their torsos together so that her small pert breasts just touched him, her erect nipples electrifying pin-pricks against his heaving chest.
As her hips swayed back and forth, around and around on him, letting him feel the pressure of first one side then the other of her channel of love, she laced her arms over his shoulders and drew his head to hers.
Their lips met with the same deliberate slowness, parted and tasted. Their tongues darted out and she whispered half-heard words into the cavern of his mouth.
"Oh, you fuck good, Johnny. All night, Johnny. Let's make it go just forever and ever."
He was breathing heavily now and beginning to groan. He held tight to her slender form, which now seemed to be moving all over him, slithering like a slow passionate eel that was ever increasing the tempo of its movements. In his own position he could barely move his own hips, could only respond to her passion by his lips and tongue. Somehow he knew that she was prolonging her own release to coincide with his-that this time would be her last for the day and that she wanted to make it as thorough and intense as she possibly could-better and more complete than any she had previously experienced.
She was grinding faster now, swaying from side to side, lifting her hips in regular cadence and then letting them tic as they dropped against his. Her soft buttocks twisted against his thighs, her firm breasts slid along the perspiration that covered their chests. The nipples were so hard they almost scratched him in their pressured passion.
Still the cadence of her rhythm increased. Now, she too was gasping, panting heavily as her lips locked to his own and her tongue darted in and out of his gasping mouth.
"Come on, Johnny!"
He felt, rather than heard, her words spoken directly into his mouth. Her tongue slid over his, then pulled away to lick first his upper then his lower lip. She leaned away from him, but not far enough to pull the pressure of her breasts from his chest.
He saw that her eyes were half closed, glazed, but still staring at him intently. Her hips never stopped moving, never ceased the increasing rhythm of their grinding onto his. She was rolling on him, literally screwing herself to him. Had his penis had threads the two of them would now have been inseparable.
Yet she continued to stare at him as she rolled and ground, as she swayed her small breasts over his chest to make swirled unseen patterns in the flowing perspiration.
"Come on, Johnny," she said again. "We'll make it together, the biggest come-off yet. Come on, Johnny, do it in me . . . spurt way up high so I can feel it hit my heart.. . . "
He didn't quite understand why, but he was still not ready. All the previous sex must have drained him, he thought. Despite the actions of both girls, he was still in a perfect position: erect, hard, able to satisfy completely, yet still not on the lip of passion that would demand his own release. The thought gave him an intense surge of power. Little Sue was fighting as hard as she could to hold back the crashing release of her own floodgates, but he wasn't ready for her.
He could force her right to the limit this way, making her move ever harder and faster against him, demanding and demanding yet not receiving what she really wanted. Then he realized she was really afraid to have her release, she was holding it back for him because maybe--just maybe-this was the time that actually would satisfy her. Maybe she wasn't insatiable after all. Maybe she had just worked herself up to a point where this would be the big one-the ultimate-but in order to make it right inside herself she would have to feel the hot spurt and ticing throb of his own release.
He let his body topple to its side, pulling her with him, her hips never stopping their cadence. They lay that way for a moment, he nestled tight between the demanding warmth of her thighs for a long time before he finally forced her again to her back. Now she could no longer dominate the situation with her hips hinged in sweet honey-now he could move, too.
As he thrust into her and withdrew, he felt her long fingers toying with his anus and scrotum, felt their at first gentle then more demanding caress as they stroked along the line of hanging flesh to lift first one then the other testicle as if weighing it.
Her wet fingers slid to where they joined and, as he pulled out, grasped him around the base of his shaft. She squeezed as she smiled. She was taunting him again. She was so close she had to prevent him from entering all the way. She had laced a tight collar of her fingers around him barring his entrance into the gates of paradise.
"Wait," she said, and he stopped. She pushed him slightly away and then pulled back and forth on his turgid organ. Her fingers moved up and down and her hand drew back and forth. She was a flutist manipulating a magical instrument with a sensation so stimulating yet so different from his last that he hardly knew which he preferred.
"Come on, Johnny," she said again. "Do it . . . please?"
Still he wasn't ready. The power within him grew into a great sadistic thing. He knew she wouldn't let herself go until he did, but that she was already teetering over the edge. He almost laughed.
Then he felt the hard pulsating pressure of the vibrator pressed against his sphincter-the throbbing titillation of electronic stimulation that seemed to soar completely through him.
Ann did not thrust the instrument inside himonly held it there with one hand as she leaned forward to thrust one of her big breasts against his mouth. Now he was surrounded with flesh. He pushed again, and this time Sue released the grip of her hand and allowed him entrance. Now she was churning as violently as Ann had done before, and he was matching her every thrust.
Somehow Ann managed to keep the throb of the vibrator against him so that its electronic stimulation centered on both his scrotum and anus as Sue's hot flesh entrapped his organ. His lips clamped tight on Ann's nipple, but he opened his eyes to see that her free hand was rubbing her sister's pert breasts.
"Oh, Johnny!" Sue gasped. "Please! I can't stop . . . I can't...."
She twisted violently against him, churning her entire body so that not one muscle remained immobile. She was a wet slithering machine of pure passion, and in her own intense release, which he knew was more thorough than any she had ever experienced, he felt his own floodgates burst open and the hot jet of sperm shoot from his testicles, winding along miles of tingling tubing until it finally ran along the length of his penis. It was traveling untold miles of impossible ecstasy, and then, like the explosion of an atomic cannon, it was gone. He could feel the heat and power of it as it jetted high into Sue's welcoming vagina, could feel her impassioned twisting around and against him as she cried, "Johnny! Johnny!" again and again.
It seemed that neither of them could stop the orgasm this time. It started, but it could not end. Now his teeth clamped tight on Ann's erect nipple, but what pain she received was not enough to force her to release the grip on the vibrator still pulsating against his scrotum and anus-making it impossible for his once-opened ducts to close.
All the semen he had was shooting from him in a never-ending stream that seemed to be heated even more within Sue so that they were actually being boiled alive in the cauldron of their own passions.
A minute, an hour, an eternity? He could never know. It was so prolonged-so intense-that he actually felt his mind slipping away from him. First it turned to sparked crimson and purple, silent Roman candles exploding and imploding in an endless night. There was no time, no placeonly the hot flesh that surrounded him, demanding ever more and more of his precious fluid, and then, perhaps for an instant, perhaps far longer, there was hot blackness.
His previous exertions, the intensity of this last release combined to shatter his mind completely. All was nothing. Nothing was all.
He swayed for a moment, then fell unconscious over the two soft bodies. His last memory was drowning in a sea of soft breasts, trying to claw his way to the surface over their round, slippery curves, and then plunging into sweet oblivion.
When he awoke he was lying on his back. The light was still on. Sue was lying partially over him, her head resting on his hips, but her body twisted so that the sleeping Ann could rest her own head on the younger girl's smooth thigh.
Sue looked intently up at him for a long moment waiting for him to regain consciousness totally before she spoke. When she did, her voice was a soft, mature purr completely un-like her usual childish tones.
"Good?" she asked simply.
He had to swallow before he was able to speak. When he did his voice sounded foreign and far away. "Yeah."
"Me too," she said. She turned her head slowly and placed a gentle kiss on his soft organ. "I just love it like that."
He grunted as her soft lips traced a delicate pattern along what was left of his manhood.
"Don't forget," she cooed between gentle kisses, "you promised I could have it anytime."
"Jesus! You don't want to fuck again!"
"No, silly." She took the head of his penis between her lips, gently sucked an inch of it within her hot mouth, and then gave a gentle, playful bite before releasing it again to kiss the spot she had nipped. "That was the most. I don't think I'll ever feel that much at once again." She hesitated a moment, looking at him with soft, quizzical eyes. "But I know I'll want to. Even when I've come off, I still want you way up high in me. It's . . . well, it's good, that's all."
He watched as she again kissed him gently and he lowered one hand to stroke the silken texture of her long hair. "You're a hell of a good lay," he said. "You can't convince me you learned all that in one day."
"You think so?"
He nodded.
"Better than the rest of your old girl friends."
"Much better."
She seemed thoughtful for a moment, then she smiled, her slow, agelessly mature, taunting smile. "Who knows," she said as she kissed him again. "Maybe I've just got an instinct for fucking."
He didn't answer. The truth was so apparent. Still stroking her hair with his left hand, he lifted his right to flick out the single bedside lamp which was still burning. This, he knew, would be their last night together like this-free in the house without the snooping morality of their parents. If he wanted her again, he knew she would be willing, but he also knew that they would have to sneak off somewhere. He could never get away with waiting until his parents slept and then walking down the hall to their room. Ann was too unreliable. Besides, when she was coming she had a tendency to scream. One scream like that and anyone within a hundred yards would know it wasn't from stepping on a nail.
Maybe, he thought as Sue's lips continued to peck at his flaccid penis, covering it with gentle warmth but unable to raise it to another erection, maybe he could take his kid sister to a drive-in or something like that. Then he visualized the awkwardness of trying to do it in the front seat of a car. It would be pretty bad if one of the theater cops spotted them going hot and heavy at it, and then found out that the girl was not only under-age but also his sister.
Finally he stopped thinking. All he could do was enjoy this last night together with the two of them. He reached out and stroked Ann's thigh. She made a little groan in her sleep as her hips moved closer to his head. He turned slowly and planted one soft wet kiss directly on the closed, but still damp, line of her vagina.
She groaned again, and without any passion he slipped his tongue easily past the outer labia. Her hips snuggled closer. Maybe, he thought, she was also licking on Sue's opening. All he really knew in the dark was that Sue had now stopped her tender ministrations to his penis and had again taken the soft flesh into her mouth.
He felt in his heart that he would never be hard again, but still he could not deny the pleasure of the sweet sensation her mouth was giving to him. She moved in delicate loving movements, not so much expressing her desire for him, he knew, but rather worshiping the organ he possessed.
He in turn twisted slightly on his side so that he could better savor the nectar now beginning to flow from Ann's exhausted vagina. It was a lazy movement without passion-a snuggling half-asleep movement that would ease them into the arms of Morpheus.
Ann felt the wet tongue caressing her, but did not pull herself from sleep entirely. Instead, she moved her head on her sister's thigh, found the already-parted dew-dropped lips there, and began slowly to kiss their pink folds.
And so they slept, in a triangle, each with mouth against the sexual organ of another, each savoring and being savored at once. As sleep encompassed them completely, both John and Ann withdrew their tongues from the sweet lips they had been tasting, but Sue was more fortuitous, or perhaps more demanding.
Although the penis on which she had been sucking was thoroughly drained and exhausted-completely incapable of rising again without a long and complete rest-she still insisted upon holding it in her mouth. She slid her tongue and lips over it many times before closing her eyes in sweet sleep, but before she dozed off she pulled as much of it as she could into her mouth, held it tightly there for a moment and then, sure that the source of her utmost pleasure would remain within her throughout the night, fell into blissful sleep.
They were lying that way at two o'clock in the morning when Mr. and Mrs. Brillard entered the house. The first thing they noticed after flicking on the lights in the living room were the three scattered piles of clothing on the living room floor.
John Brillard and his wife exchanged glances. Each was sure he realized what the clothing meant. Each was unwilling to admit his darkest suspicions to the other. They were both exhausted. The people they had gone to visit over the weekend had been forced to call the meeting short when the husband was unexpectedly called away on business. Rather than staying the added day as they had originally expected, John Brillard had decided to return home a day early. The drive had been tiring, but now the sight of his children's scattered clothing in his own living room came as a final blow. Without bothering to look, he was sure what he would find in the upstairs of the house.
His wife, too, seemed to become quietly unbalanced by the discovery. "Oh, John," she gasped. "I can't believe.. . . "
John Brillard realized that he was facing a situation that could only become worse if not handled with the utmost tact. The one thing he didn't want was for his wife's ever-proper morality to fly into a fit of Puritanic anger. Psychological scars could result and the children might be damaged for the rest of their lives. Young Johnny, he knew, should have known better, but maybe he had been the instigator. Ann he couldn't believe, but Sue was probably just old enough, yet young enough, to want to experiment.
He put his arm around his wife's shoulders and pulled her tight against him. She had already started a barely controlled flood of tears. He suggested that they try to forget the tell-tale clues of sexual abandon until morning. They might, after all, he suggested, mean absolutely nothing. After all, they were only clothes, and the kids weren't the neatest.
"But the panties," she sobbed, "the bra?"
"It doesn't really prove anything," he said as he led her up the stairs. He told her to wait at the landing and softly walked along the hall to the master bedroom. There he inched the door open and saw the triangular pattern of his children's lust spread out before him. Johnny's head rested on Ann's thigh, Ann's on Sue's thigh, and Sue still held the tip of Johnny's penis in her half-smiling mouth.
John Brillard closed the door of the room as silently as he had opened it and tiptoed back to his wife. He told her they would have to remain calm, that the children could not be awakened. He explained the psychological risk to their mental health and made his wife promise not to open the door of the main bedroom.
Choking back her tears, Martha Brillard promised what her husband asked and meekly followed him to their daughters' room.
There, he insisted that she take two sleeping tablets and waited until she dozed in drug-induced sleep before he again went downstairs in hopes of sorting his own thoughts.
From under the built-in oven, John Brillard selected one of the three bottles of bourbon, uncapped, it, and with meticulous movements poured a liberal dosage into a tumbler. Leaving the bottle on the counter beside the sink, he turned to the refrigerator, opened the freezer section, and scooped out a double handful of ice-cubes. He filled the glass with cubes, tossed the three extra ones into the garbage disposal and, waiting a moment for the water to run cool and fresh from the tap, filled the glass.
He turned the light out in the kitchen, walked to the living room, and sat down in his favorite chair. He looked around the room, again let his eyes linger on the scattered pile of clothes as his mind recalled the vision of sensuous depravity he had witnessed illuminated by the hall light upstairs.
Taking the pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket, he jerked it slightly so that one of its contents snapped up. He slid it from the pack with his lips, put the pack on the table beside him and sparked flame to the lighter there. Still with slow methodical gestures, he raised the flame to his cigarette, inhaled deeply and then replaced the lighter on the table.
Only then did he take the cigarette from his mouth, put it in the aslitray on the end table, and sip the first taste of his drink.
His mind seemed to swim in a sea of indecision. Should he have charged into his own bedroom, awakened his incestuous children and had it out with them in brutal language? Or was he doing the right thing by waiting-by letting a few hours help perhaps to bring objectivity to his mind?
He took another long sip of the drink and glanced again to the clothing on the floor. His eyes rested on the single brassiere Ann had discarded during her morning striptease.
Absently, John Brillard noted the large size of the cups. He considered the fact that his daughter was no longer a child. If breasts were the measure of maturity, she was a woman grown. How could he hope to deal with a woman?
He took another pull at his drink and, still holding the glass, raised the cigarette again to his mouth. And Sue, he thought. What about Sue? He glanced from the discarded jeans and the old man's shirt to the flimsy, delicate panties that had covered the young girl's adolescent hips that morning. She, too, must be grown.
Again the vision of his youngest daughter's half-smiling face came to mind-the vision of her curled contented and naked in bed with her own brother's soft penis held in her mouth as she breathed like a fluffy kitten with a belly full of warm milk.
He lifted the glass again to his lips, this time almost shocked to find that it was empty. With no more than mild chagrin, he realized that he hadn't been sipping. He had been gulping the alcoholic mixture. But he didn't care. He had to relax his mind somehow.
He rose from where he had been sitting, poured himself another stiff drink in the kitchen and returned to the living room. This time, however, he did not sit down. Instead, he walked to the pile of Ann's discarded clothing, bent over and picked up the brassiere.
Again he realized, almost with a mild shock, how large a development his eldest daughter had.
Holding the undergarment in one hand, he returned to the chair, took a last puff of his cigarette and again sat down to sift his thoughts. This time, however, his mind was even more cluttered. As he kept lifting the glass to his mouth, as he lit another cigarette and tried to determine his proper course as a parent, he kept glancing down to his lap and the flimsy brassiere resting there. And each time he did so, he again recalled the curled posture of Ann, upstairs in his bed, her thighs parted to hold Johnny's head, her own head resting against Sue's more slender legs.
Again, he drained his glass and refilled it. Was he going insane? Was it the liquor? the humid summer heat after a full day of rain, or some deep-seated hereditary imbalance in his blood?
He realized with a shudder of terrible guilt that he wanted his own daughter. With even more trepidation, he realized that, as he sat there trying to calm himself, he was actually stirring himself into a passionate state by being unable to tear the vision of his older daughter from his mind's eye.
Desperate now, barely able to control the lust that had replaced his earlier feelings of parental responsibility, he returned to the kitchen to pour another drink. This time he didn't add either water or ice. He stood over the sink, bra still in his left hand as he looked for a moment out the open window over the dark expanse of back yard. And again, he saw a vision of Ann. This time she was standing there naked, beckoning him with one hand as she cupped her huge breasts with the other.
He shook his head to clear it, saw the vision in the darkness disappear, and he lifted the drink to his lips. He downed the contents of the glass in one searing gulp, reached for the bottle, then stopped.
The fingers of his left hand clutched the brassiere, those of his right hovered over the bottle. Finally, the tortured expression on his face relaxed.
"What the hell," he said half-aloud. "It's not like I'm thinking of raping her. I mean, if she's spreading it around to everyone else. Hell, she's no better than a tramp . . . a little, big-titted seventeen-year-old tramp. I'll fix her wagon . . . fix her wagon good!"
He turned from the kitchen, and without bothering to switch off the lights, crossed the living room and mounted the stairs two at a time. His steps were firm and determined as he walked along the hall. He did not hesitate even at the door to the master bedroom.
Quietly he turned the knob and opened it, and again saw the triangular pattern of flesh. In the dim yellow of the hall light, Ann seemed even more young and lush than before. She was a vision of desire-a vision to stimulate any man to complete mind-bending lust . . . any man . . . even her own father.
Only when that final thought crossed his mind did John Brillard hesitate. He stood in the doorway staring at his children for several seconds, his eyes lingering longer on the full rich curves of his eldest daughter than on the flesh of the others.
He, too, suffered his moment of doubt, but like the others before him it was short-lived; the throbbing desire between his legs, already brought to complete erection by what he had actually seen and what he had only imagined, would not let him free.
The drink within him had relaxed any inhibitions he might have had. That, coupled with the sight of smooth teenage flesh curled before him, shattered what small isolated shreds might have remained of his self-control.
John Brillard took two paces into the room, leaned over the bed and put one hand over Ann's mouth. With the other, he shook her awake.
Her eyes opened slowly at first, then, when they adjusted to the dim light, widened in terror as she saw the frowning shadow of her father leaning over her naked form.
"Get up," he whispered sternly. "Get out of that bed and follow me."
Without speaking, her back bent and eyes downcast, Ann slid from the bed and stood before her father. Obediently she followed him to the hall and down its length to her brother's room. There he waited until she entered before him, then snapped on the light and closed the door with ominous finality behind him.
"Little slut!" he said. His eyes ran from her face, down over her full, trembling breasts to the tangle of blonde hair still damp between her rounded thighs.
"Dad, please," she started to beg. "You don't-"
"Don't I? You think I don't? I saw enough. Tried to raise you like a decent lady and you wind up a tramp with your own brother and little sister. You're probably passing out ass to every cunt-hungry prick in the neighborhood."
"No! Honest. I never. . . . "
"Bullshit. Well, I'll tell you something, young lady. You're not going to get away with it." His voice began to tremble slightly as if the emotions bubbling within him might explode any minute. "No sir. Think you know all about fucking, do you? Well, I'll show you a thing or two myself."
Ann stared at her father in amazement. Now she understood, and with the understanding came safety. Instantly, she realized the truth behind the situation. He wanted her. What was more, if she gave in freely, he would be drawn into the trap. If so, no one would ever tell her self-righteous mother.
She took a pace toward her father. Her eyes lifted to glow with womanly knowledge as she looked deep into his. Slowly, she extended a hand to touch the already rigid symbol of his manhood trapped beneath the fabric of his trousers.
"I'm sorry, Daddy," she purred. "I never thought . . . I mean, I wanted you. I always wanted you, but I never thought you'd let me.. . . "
The final barrier of reserve seemed ripped from his shoulders. For a trembling, turgid moment he stood gazing into his daughter's eyes before he reached out and pulled her tight against him.