Chapter 3
"Out of bed, sleepy heads! Come on! Time to get up."
Denny peeked from beneath his pillow and saw Norma standing in the doorway. Next to him, in the other twin bed, Joyce's rump stirred beneath the covers. For just a moment, Denny had forgotten he was not in his own room in San Francisco.
"I thought we would all have breakfast together," Norma said. "Your father has to be at his office for his first appointment at 9:30. Come on! Rise and shine. Breakfast is almost ready."
Norma smiled cheerfully until they had both sat up. Then she left them, both staring out the window at the lush, green landscape. The sky was clear and there were rolling green hills and pine trees. There were even a few cattle, neighbors' livestock, grazing within the confines of white rail fences.
Joyce emitted a little squeal of excitement. "Whew," she said, rubbing her sleep-filled eyes, as though it were too beautiful to be true, a dream or a mirage. "A lot different from San Francisco, huh? Look how clear everything is!"
"Naturally," Denny said, playing the role of tour guide and veteran. "What did you expect? I told you Walden Flats was different—incredibly different." He liked the word "incredibly."
Joyce tossed her pillow at her smug brother and then they both brushed their teeth, washed and dressed. Denny wore blue denims and a T-shirt with Elton John's picture on the front. Joyce squeezed into tight-fitting denims too, and a yellow blouse. Norma saw them coming through the living room, and when they entered the kitchen she was already putting plates of bacon and hot cakes on the table. She told them to sit down and eat "while your food is hot."
Sipping his black coffee, his handsome face bloated and flushed, Martin Reardon managed a gravel-voiced "Good morning."
It was good to hear his voice back to normal again—not slurred and mumbling as it had been last night. Denny noticed that his father's hand shook slightly as he held the cup to his lips. Denny wondered how his father managed to work on patients' teeth with such shaking hands. The siblings wished him good morning, sat down and began eating with gusto.
"Well, what do you have planned for today?" their father asked.
Denny washed a mouthful of hotcake down with cold milk. "We thought we'd ride the bicycles into Walden Flats—maybe drop by Rex's or Ray's—or visit Landon Pond."
"Good," their father said, chewing, "but no hitchhiking, understand? Ride your bicycles. I know it's a long way to ride a bike—all the way into town—but, well, we've had a lot of trouble around here lately with men picking up kids hitchhiking. It's mighty dangerous, so I insist that you use the bikes, all right?"
They promised they wouldn't hitchhike.
"Incidentally," Martin Reardon said, "don't be surprised if a big dog charges at you when you're getting the bikes from the garage." He smiled but his lips were twitching from his hangover. "Since you were last here, Denny, we adopted a stray dog. His name is Frederick. A weird name, but that's what Norma named him. In any event, he's friendly enough, but he's inclined to be over-protective. Perhaps he's overly grateful for his new home. Don't move too quickly till you know him better."
Martin Reardon dabbed his mouth with his linen napkin and stood up. Glancing at his wrist watch, he kissed Norma. "Well, off to the sore muscle and neck-cracking mill," he said. "See you kids this evening. Have fun, but be careful."
Dr. Reardon kissed his son and daughter, then exited through the back door. They heard the engine start, and then the sound of tires on gravel as their father left for his office in town.
Joyce stood up, excusing herself, and went to the bathroom. Norma began clearing the table, and as she bent over, her bathrobe parted slightly and Denny caught a delicious look at the swell of her large, bare breasts. The negligee had drooped too. He strained, straightening in his chair in hopes of catching her nipples, but she wasn't bending low enough. And then, suddenly, her eyes met his and, strangely, she leaned even farther forward, allowing Denny an unobstructed view of her beautiful hanging globes-nipples and all. Denny's heart beat fast inside his chest. Why was Norma letting him feast his eyes on her tits this way? It was obviously intentional. Just last summer he had sucked on those titties. He felt his prick press hard, painfully, against the fly of his denims. Maybe he could fuck her this summer, he thought. Yes, maybe his dream would come true at last!
Norma carried the dishes to the sink then and began transferring them into the washer. Denny did not attempt to help her. He didn't want to stand up. His hard-on would be too obvious. Then, as if his fear of being caught with a hard-on had materialized, Norma said, "Denny, please bring the salt and pepper over here to the cupboard, would you? Hmm?"
"Uh—okay," he stammered. "In—uh—just a minute, okay?" Desperately, he tried to concentrate on other things—anything to make his erection disappear.
"I'll get them," Norma said, coming back to the table and fetching them herself. Bending over then, Denny saw her eyes fasten to the full erection bulging inside his pants. Yes, she had sighted his stiff cock for sure, because she stared directly at his crotch for several long seconds, a hint of a lusty smile on her full-lipped mouth. Finally, still grinning, she picked up the salt and pepper shakers and returned to the cupboard.
She began humming softly, her back to him as she worked. Her voice was not professional as she began humming softly, but it was satin-smooth and very female and right in tune. She sounded a bit like Helen Reddy. Finally, she said, "Denny, I'm looking out the window. Now could you bring the other things from the table for me?"
Denny stared down at his hard-on, which had finally dwindled somewhat. "Okay," he said, picking up the syrup and butter plate. He went over beside her and set them down on the sink.
Norma faced him then, and once again their eyes met meaningfully. Fluttering her lashes, she raised her eyebrows. "Be sure to watch out for poison oak if you go over to Landon Pond," she said. "We don't want you bedded down again—with your whatchamacallit all swollen again, do we?"
Briefly, Denny stared down at the floor; then he gazed into Norma's mischievous brown eyes again. He knew she was taunting him now. Yes, she had seen his hard-on and now she was talking about poison oak and referring to the time she had sneakily jerked him off. She was making no effort to hide his perfect view of her breasts either. Her robe was still parted and she left it that way.
"No, I certainly wouldn't want poison oak again," he said, lying and swallowing, unable to take eyes from the lovely milk-white set of tits.
Norma let him continue staring at her boobs. Denny knew she knew he was staring at them, but he didn't care. Fascinated by their contour, he longed to grope them and suck them just as he'd done last summer.
"Oh," she said, "I never informed your father about the ointment I administered to your poison oak, dear. Your father seemed to admire your bravery under the circumstances, so I never—uh—informed him about my cure-all medicine."
"Thank you," Denny said, nodding. He hoped she was subtly informing him that she would keep secret anything that might ever occur between them. Maybe, too, she was informing him that, like himself and Joyce, they had formed a secret agreement. Could that possibly be true? God, he hoped so! Norma definitely wasn't wasting any time 'getting it on.' At the thought that this might be true, Denny felt his prick stirring again inside his pants. And then she dropped the bomb that sent tingles running through his balls.
"Denny, there are quite a few things I'd like you to help me out with here at the house. Someday, when you have nothing much to do, when Joyce is in town or something, I'd like you to give me a hand—in private. I realize this is your first day here and you must show your sister around, but try to save a few days— uh—for us. To help me. Your father's gone all day during the week, of course, and I hate to disturb his relaxation on weekends. I have some heavy things to lift—some very special chores. Would you assist your step-mother sometime?"
Denny actually found himself trembling. "Sure, Norma," he said. "I—I'd be glad to. A beautiful and ripe woman, he thought. Not a girl, but a fully developed woman! It was definitely an invitation, he thought. It had to be. Yes, she had observed his hard-on, referred to the poison oak incident, and now she had come right out and asked him to be alone with her. Was she actually inviting him to fuck her? Or could it all be in his sex-crazed imagination?
Joyce entered the kitchen then. "Come on, Denny," she pleaded. "Let's go! I wanna see Walden Flats, the pond, everything. Let's split, Den."
Denny was careful to keep his back toward his sister and step-mother. For some reason he didn't want either of these two females to see the semi-erect bulge in his pants.
"Right on, sis," he said. "Trying to sound casual. Yeah, let's split."
"Why are you walking that way, Denny?" Joyce asked. "Is something wrong?"
"Hardly," he said sarcastically, wincing at his choice of words. "O.K." he said. "Let's get the bikes out of garage and split for town." Nervously, he glanced over his shoulder, saw the puzzled look on his sister's face and his step-mother trying valiantly to suppress laughter.
"So long," Joyce said, giving Norma a peck on the cheek before following Denny outside to the garage. As she watched her brother lift the garage door, she said, "You're really weird, Denny. Sometimes your behavior is absolutely kooky."
Finally, and with herculean effort, Denny had thought his hard-on away. Boldly, he turned to face her, hands on his hips. "Just what the fuck are you talking about?" he said. "You're the dingy one!"
"Don't you dare use that kind of language in my presence," Joyce scolded.
"Bullshit," Denny said. "Last night you didn't seem to mind. You loved it."
"Fuck you, Denny Reardon," Joyce said. "I expect to be treated like a sister—a lady."
"Then get your ass on your bike and let's go," he said.
The garage was dark and even cold inside. Martin Reardon used it solely for storage—tools, lawn mower, bicycles, etc.
Denny climbed on his bike and began pedaling down the gravel driveway. Behind him, on her new bike, Joyce wobbled precariously. She managed though, and they turned up a brief incline and then down the hill to Walden Flats Lane. There, they found the main two-lane road that led to the town proper, several miles away. There was little traffic as they rode easily on level ground, passing big trees and antique-looking wood-frame houses set well back from the winding road. They stopped to rest several times and it was nearly half an hour before they took the last bend in the road and entered the town itself. There were small stores, the town square, a movie theater, their father's office and Sherman's Pharmacy.
Still panting from the ride, Denny saw that his sister was really exhausted. "Let's stop at Sherman's for a soda, huh?" he said, breathing hard. "You'll like Mr. Sherman. He's a super guy."
Her black shiny hair mussed from the ride, Joyce nodded agreement. They braked to a halt, got off their bikes, lifted them over the curb, leaned them against the building and went inside. Mrs. Sherman and a hunch-shouldered, weird-looking clean-up man were the only people in sight. When Denny and Joyce sat down at the counter, Mrs. Sherman came over and asked them what they would like.
Denny ordered an orange soda, grinning. Then he said, "Remember me, Mrs. Sherman?"
Peering through her thick glasses, the elderly, gray-haired woman squinted, trying to remember. Suddenly the haggard face beamed and the old woman threw her hands in the air. "Why it's Denny Reardon!" she gasped. "What a pleasant surprise! Haven't seen you since last summer. Your father said nothing about your coming this summer."
"This is my sister, Joyce," Denny said. "We just flew in last night. Give her an orange, too."
"Delighted to meet you, dear," she said. She fixed the drinks quickly, then set them on the counter.
Denny sipped for a moment, then fiddled with his straw. "Where's Mister Sherman?" he asked.
Mrs. Sherman's face grew serious. "He passed away, Denny," she said. "Six months ago." She looked away for a moment, hiding the tears in her eyes. "He had a heart attack right over there—by the cosmetic counter," she said, her eyes distant, as if she were remembering, vividly visualizing the death of her husband.
Stunned, Denny sighed. "I—I'm awfully sorry ... I didn't know. I—I really liked him a lot."
Denny didn't know what else to say. Kaleidoscopically, his mind flashed back to last summer. He recalled sitting in this same drug store with Rex and Ray, inhaling the combined fragrance of candy, pharmaceuticals, cosmetics. No drugstore had ever smelled quite like Sherman's. But now the place smelled different somehow, as though old man Sherman had taken some of that special smell with him. It was an awful thought, and Denny remembered reading comic books at the counter, turning the pages endlessly until Mr. Sherman (who looked much like his own father, except he was older and wore a beard) began frowning and clearing his throat and wiping the counter vigorously. Then he would stare at the boys' empty glasses as if wondering why they didn't order more drinks. Denny almost cried. Mr. Sherman was gone now—struck down by a heart attack in his fragrant corner drugstore—and Denny knew the place would never smell or be the same again. Denny did not know what to say to widows. He wanted to say that Mr. Sherman had been a good man who talked to boys as if they weren't just boys, but adults. But he did not know how to say it.
"I liked Mr. Sherman a lot," he managed, finally. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Sherman."
The old woman forced a smile—a good one. "And he liked you boys, too," she said cheerfully. "Well, just where are you youngsters bound for today?"
"I'm gonna introduce sis to Rex's sister, Sue," he said. "Yeah, I'm showing my sister around today. We thought we might stop by Rex's or Ray's place."
"Well, I might be able to help you," Mrs. Sherman said. "By coincidence, they were here about twenty minutes ago. You'll probably find them at the pond. That's where they said they were going."
Denny paid for the drinks, stood up and thanked the old lady. "Thanks," he said, "and I hope you do just fine here at the store without—"
"Yes, just fine," she interrupted. "I've hired Louis here to help me out. You musn't feel sorry for me."
The man she called Louis was staring at them weirdly from across the store. His shoulders were hunched and his dark eyes narrow. Spooky looking, Denny thought. His stare gave Joyce the creeps, too, Denny noticed. They said goodbye to Mrs. Sherman and departed for Landon Pond.
From Walden Flats to Landon Pond, the road was downhill most of the way. But Denny pumped his bike hard anyway, eager to see Rex and Ray and Sue again. Joyce coasted, lagging behind.
"Hey, come on!" Denny screamed over his shoulder. "Pump harder! Dig that hot little cunt of yours into the bike seat and let's make some time."
"Shut that filthy mouth of yours," Joyce shrieked back.
A big pine tree with a rope attached lay just ahead, beyond a flimsy wooden bridge. Denny and his friends had played there just last summer. Denny feasted his eyes on the smooth surface of the pond. Excited, he spotted three bicycles—two boys' bikes and one girl's. Panting, he laid his bike on the hard ground and, in a moment, Joyce pedaled up and laid her bike down, too. "Are they here?" she asked, excited, too.
"Yeah, it's them," Denny said. "Maybe they're skinny-dipping. Come on, let's sneak up on 'em."
Giggling, Joyce followed as he led the way through thick foliage until they reached the edge of the pond. Denny was careful to point out the red and green poison oak leaves as they made their way, telling his sister it would make her pussy swell up if she touched the poisonous plants. Finally, they heard voices and knelt and peered through the trees and bushes at the bank of the huge pond that was nearly a lake.
Three bare-assed youths—Ray, Rex and Sue—frolicked in the shallow water by the bank. Denny had never seen Sue naked before. She and Rex stood on the bank watching then as Ray swung out over the water on a long rope, his huge pecker slapping against his stomach. Then, Tarzan-like, he yelled and dived into the water.
Denny and Joyce lay on their stomachs, peering at the activity below like two Indians getting ready for an ambush. "That looks like fun," Joyce said.
Impulsively, Denny rolled over onto his back and took his prick out. Laughing quietly, he played with himself, making his organ hard almost immediately. "Is my prick as big as Ray's?" he asked.
"I—I guess so," Joyce said, glancing back and forth between the two penises. Joyce was always embarrassed about sexual things when she was in public. But she was wetting her lips strangely as she stared at Rex's rod. Fascinated, she said: "He isn't circumcised, is he?"
"Huh-uh," Denny said. "But Ray is, right? Look! My prick's bigger than his, huh?"
Frowning, Joyce studied the hunk of meat hanging from Rex's auburn patch of pubic hair. Both Rex and his sister, Sue, had reddish-brown hair. It was a darker shade at their crotches though.
Joyce said, finally. "True, you do have a larger organ, but look how big his balls are. How do boys get such big balls? Hmm ... "
Gently, Denny slipped his hand under his sisters yellow blouse and began playing with her breasts. Joyce wore no bra and she almost ignored his sly massage, so intent was her gaze on the naked bodies below. She was propped up on her elbows and in a moment Denny scooted under her, pulling her blouse all the way up to her neck so he could shower kisses on her hanging titties. Then, when he began applying suction, drawing each erect nipple deep into his mouth and twirling his tongue around it, Joyce began pumping her pussy against the hard ground.
"Like that, don't you?" Denny said. "Get you alone and you're a—a nymphomaniac, practically."
"Ummm, it does feel nice, Denny," she cooed. "I really love watching those naked boys with their pricks hanging out and having you suck on my titties. Isn't it wild watching naked people when they don't know you can see them?"
Grunting, his mouth full of his sister's firm breast, Denny reached down and began running his hand back and forth over the top of his sister's cunt. Even through the tit-fitting denims he could feel the moist heat of his sister's love slit. Perhaps a minute passed, and then he unsnapped her denims at the top and slid his hand inside until he could feel the downy fur of her beautiful pussy. Slowly, tenderly, he began finger-fucking her then, gathering enough juice from her snug hole so it would feel better at the top, on her love-button where she liked it best of all. Still staring at Rex's and Ray's pricks, she began moaning softly and pumping harder at his finger."
"Ohhhh, Denneeeee," she murmured. "That's beautiful, just perfect having you play with my cunt that way. Look at those boys' peters! Ummmm. I love it when we're outdoors and nobody can see us. Nice and secret ... ohhhh ... make me come, Den. Make it tingle, hmm?" she coaxed. "Don't stop!"
Naturally, instinctively, she let her hand steal down and grip her brother's throbbing hard-on—dribbling, pulsing. Her eyes trained steadily on the cocks of Rex and Ray, she caressed the dripping head, tickled it ripplingly with her soft loving fingers so she could manipulate the gush of its pre-love juice and roll its buttermilk-like texture between her fingers. "You didn't come already, did you?" she asked in a trembling voice.
"Nope," Denny replied. "It's just that I'm hot and my peter is dripping like crazy."
"I thought you must've come," she whispered. "There's so much goo, Denny. There's really a lot of it. Gosh!"
Denny assured her that he hadn't come. "Hey, let's get your pants off so I can lick your pussy again the way I did last night."
Joyce wanted to—Denny could tell—because her breath came faster, faster. "I don't think we b-better, Denny. What if an airplane or something flew over us. I—I don't know ... "
"What's it gonna do?" he asked. "Land and arrest us?" He jiggled his finger harder and faster against her clitoris.
"Oh, yes!" she pleaded suddenly. "Do it to me, Den." She began tugging at her denims then, frantically trying to squirm out of them. She helped him pull at the elastic band of her panties also, then lay on her back in the weeds, covering her eyes with the back of her hand as she pumped her firm ass at her brother's mouth. Her voice grew high-pitched as she ground her juicy slit in perfect rhythm to his bobbing head, the probing and wagging tongue that was bringing unspeakable pleasure.
"Denny, Denny ... Ohhh, Denny!" she chanted. "My beau-teee-full big brother ... honey baby-brother ... ohhh!"
Unable to stand it any longer, Denny spun her around so that they lay mouth-to-genital. "Put my thing inside your mouth," he said. "Suck mine, too," he commanded. Then, "Please? Please?"
Denny was grateful his sister was so hot. She didn't require lengthy coaxing. Yes, the sight of the naked threesome below had triggered some new and desperate need deep within her. Panting, she grabbed his dripping shaft in both hands and began nursing lovingly on the reddish-purple head. For the very first time, she actually seemed to enjoy munching on his tool, as though it were an all-day sucker or an ice cream cone. As he lapped at his sister's cunt, swallowing her tangy love-juice, he felt her doing the same to him. She didn't hold back—not a bit—and then her hands were caressing and kneading his balls adoringly and he felt his cockhead hitting the back of her throat.
Abruptly, she began emitting little squeal-whines, and then saying gurglingly, "ymm, erghmm, umm, yumm." Denny used all the restraint he could muster to keep from blasting off into his sister's oven-like mouth. He had never experienced anything like it before. And then, suddenly, her heavenly mouth left his throbbing cock and the stark, ugly cool air against his organ was jarring him back to reality. "Hey, sis!" he protested.
"Denny, I'm coming!" his sister cried. "I'm going to come right now! Ohhhh ... "
Angrily, Denny jerked her head back to his aching member and thrust once again into the heat of her wet, gulping mouth. He shoved harder, harder into the welcome mouth, knowing he would come, knowing he had to spurt his love cream into his sister's mouth as he lapped harder and harder on her love nub. He had never felt his sister's bottom quivering in his palms before. He knew she was there—ready to climax. With one hand, he reached down and firmly grasped the back of her head, signaling her that he intended to come in her mouth. Then the tingling sensation began, washing over his entire body, the tiny pinpricks of delight engulfing him as he realized that Joyce wasn't resisting his intention to shoot his come in her mouth. Joyce knew how much of his jism squirted up from his balls and catapulted through his thick shaft and into the air from watching him jerk off since the first time a solitary drop had dribbled over the end of his prick until the present. But now he often shot sperm a foot or more into the air. So now she knew what to expect. She could anticipate that his love-milk would spill and splash and gush inside her cheeks and down her throat, like a river, maybe even gagging her, but she held his ramrod hard now, drawing on it and knowing what to expect and even looking forward to it.
Denny shuddered, happy that she, at last, felt the same way about his prick as he felt about her pussy, hungering for it. And this thought drove him to a frenzy now as his balls hung high, pulsing. His load spasmed again and again, tickle-gouging up and out the tingling, sensitive channel and deep into the scalding cavern of her nursing mouth.
Her buttocks quivered violently as she drank his sperm, finishing her own orgasm at the same time. Even after Denny was certain that his final shot of come had exited, Joyce continued to gulp hungrily. He knew his sister had come, for the texture of her love fluid had become watery, less greasy. She kept on munching on his prick though. Delighted, he placed his hand beneath her jaw, lightly palming her throat. Her mouth and lips still gulped, draining his rod of its contents and he could feel her throat constricting as she went on ingesting the mouthful of sperm in ravenous, greedy gulps.
Yes, his own sister was swallowing the fluid that had lain in waiting within his balls, and she was loving every second of it. It was the most exciting moment of his life—a sacred moment, an act of love and devotion that neither of them could ever forget. Finally, when she had drained his manhood totally, and drained his cock dry, she lay spent with her head resting on his inner thigh, her mewing lips against his relieved scrotum. His own head lay against her leg, staring at the still spasming pink folds of her love-hole.
He groaned, shuddering from head to toe, like the after-quake of an earthquake. "I love you more than anybody," he said. "I love you beautiful, beautiful sister."
Her eyes were closed. He scooted around again so that they lay face to face and, gently, he kissed each eyelid as he firmly massaged her neck. He sensed her guilt, and he desperately wanted to relieve her of what he knew she was thinking. Softly, he spoke in her ear; reassuringly, and stroked her long, black hair.
Groping for the right words, he said, "Joyce, my wonderful sister ... remember last night when you told me what Roger did to you in San Francisco? Before we left?"
She did not answer. She buried her face deep into his shoulder, as if to hide from her brother—hide from the entire world.
"Sis, I know what you're thinking," Denny said. "But try to listen to me and understand what I say, huh?"
Very slightly against his shoulder, he felt a nod that gave him the courage to go on. "Remember what you told me about Roger Harris? You said that anybody who did that with his tongue to your pussy must love you very much?"
Her head nodded again.
"Well, I feel the same way about what you just did. Now I know you love me, sis. I believe it! It was the most wonderful thing anybody ever did to a man. I— I'll never forget it. I've loved you for a long time now, sis, and I don't know if I can ever really love anybody else but you, or do the same things with just an ordinary girl. You're my sister. We—we both came out of the same pussy, you know?"
Denny thought of his desire for their step-mother, Norma, and he wondered if, really, he was being totally honest. He decided he was being honest. Yes, Norma was completely different. She was older than he, and his desire for her, wanting to fuck her, was a different land of urge. Norma would be more like a teacher, guiding her pupil in his first all-out fuck. But for Joyce he felt genuine love—love and the need to protect her from harm and other males. True, he was sometimes gruff with her, but no matter how crude or insensitively he behaved toward her, he respected her and wanted to care for her.
"We didn't do anything wrong," he said. "What you did to me wasn't dirty or anything, Joyce. It was—well, beautiful.''
Joyce sat up straight then, grinning and shaking her head. "You sure do talk a lot of weird nonsense," she said. "Do you really think I think I did anything dirty? Oh, boy! What a dumb, naive brother I've got! I've wanted to do that to you for a long time. So today I just decided to find out what it was really like to be a—a cocksucker. Nothing more. That's all." She giggled then, ridiculing him. "My mouth was just a little tired, so I was resting. And then you start that garbage about our coming out of the same pussy—our mother's pussy. Wow, Denny, sometimes I think you're really crazy. My brother, the kook!"
Dumbfounded, a little chagrined, Denny stared at his sister in astonishment. "You let me go on and on that way, talking, and you didn't even feel guilty?"
"Why should I feel guilty?" Joyce said, pinching his flaccid prick. "I was just tired. Let's go down and see your friends now, okay?"
Denny watched his sister pluck the fox-tails from her denims, thinking: Girls! No wonder everybody says they're impossible to comprehend! Puzzled, he watched her slip into her panties, and then they both got dressed and presentable.
"I like what you did to my puss," she said. "I hope that makes you feel nice and—and masculine." She extended her tongue, making a face and rippling her fingers across its tip. "I wish I had a drink of water though. Come feels funny on your tongue and throat. Kind of tickly. I certainly hope you enjoyed yourself, Denny Reardon."
Both completely dressed and presentable, they started down through the trees and foliage that led to the bank of the pond. Jokingly, chiding, Denny called his sister a cocksucker three times.
"And you're just and old cunt-licker," she replied. "Ha ha. You haven't even had your pecker inside a pussy yet!"
Giggling hysterically then, they both bent over, hugging each other and trying to stifle their laughter there in the bushes. Finally, when their laughter had sputtered and spasmed to a halt, Joyce fixed a serious gaze on her brother. "You're sweet, Denny," she said. "I understand why you said those things to me, and it was very nice of you. The truth is, I did feel a little weird doing that to you. But you sounded like a—a ham actor or something ... a pompous pussy-lapper!"
They both laughed again, and they were still grinning when they reached the edge of the pond and stepped onto the muddy bank.
"Rex!" Denny called. "Hey, Ray!"
The two naked boys ran over, Rex's sister, Sue, right behind them. "We heard you were coming," Ray said. "Welcome back," said Rex.
"Hello there, handsome," Sue purred. Like her brother, she had what seemed to thousands of freckles to go with her straight auburn hair. Ray's skin was without a blemish, though, except for two moles on his left cheek. Denny noticed that his sister slyly studied the cocks of the two boys.
"Allow me to present my sister, Joyce," Denny said in a Boris Karloff voice, and Ray, Rex and Sue greeted her warmly.
"Hey, take your duds off and come on in swimming," Ray urged.
Denny saw that Ray's eyes roamed lingeringly over his sister's ripe body, as if he could hardly wait to see her naked. Oddly, Joyce seemed to be blushing, and it struck Denny as the height of false modesty that he and his sister could have just finished a good mouth-come and now she could seem embarrassed about letting boys see her naked. Eagerly, he began slipping out of his clothes.
A few minutes later, he was in the cool pond, splashing with his friends. Sue stayed up on the bank, talking to Joyce for a while. Then she shed her clothes and the girls joined the boys in the pond for a nude swim.
Soon Rex climbed onto the bank and grabbed the rope that hung from the big tree. "I gotta new stunt," he told Denny. "Watch!"
Rex ran and hurled himself from the bank then, the rope tight in his hands, and then he soared in a wide arc maybe twenty five yards out over the water before he drew his legs up and somersaulted, piercing the water head first in a perfect dive.
From the bank, Joyce and Sue applauded and whistled. "Beautiful!" Denny called as Rex swam back toward the bank. "I wanna try that. Is it hard?"
"Not if you remember to kick your legs up high and pull up with your arms at the same time," Rex said. "But don't do what Ray did when he first tried it. He got tangled in the rope and nearly burned his balls off."
Denny clutched his balls, groaning with exaggeration, then swam to the bank and grabbed the rope. He rehearsed the order of moves in his mind carefully. He drummed up courage, then ran and flung himself off the bank, desperately clutching the rope, terrified. Although he didn't swing as high as Rex had, when he reached the farthest possible point from the tree he imitated what he hoped were Rex's moves. Kicking his legs up high, he completed his somersault but struck the surface of the water, belly first.
He surfaced, screaming, while Joyce and Sue booed his stunt from the bank.
"Pretty shitty," Sue said, with country girl candor. "I mean, really bad there, Denny!"
Ray yelled, "Shut up!" at the girls, who sat on the bank with their knees against their chests, their furry little twats delectable in the Oregon morning sun.
"Not too bad for a first attempt," Rex called to Denny. "Never mind the comments from those two cunts. Next time be sure to swing higher. Get a faster start and spring hard from the bank."
Denny tried it again, running faster than before. He pulled harder with his arms and rose higher above the water. This time he untucked from his somersault on time and entered the pond head first. But his extended penis slapped hard against the water. "Ouch, my prick hurts," Denny said, wincing.
"You guys with big pricks always have problems like that," Rex said. "Us average-sized-pricked guys don't have to worry about that!"
From the bank, Sue made a megaphone of her hands at her mouth. "Tuck your pricks between your legs," she called, giggling and nudging Joyce.
"Why don't you hold your undersized tits under your chin and try a somersault," Rex teased as he tread water.
Despite herself, Joyce laughed. Turning to Sue, she saw that her new girlfriend didn't appreciate remarks about undersized breasts. Her breasts were rather small—much smaller than her own. She had good-sized nipples though, and she would probably be big-chested some day.
Joyce shook her head. "Boys have this weird thing about their pricks," Joyce said. "Big cocks, big balls, big tits. The only they have that's really big is—is their heads!"
Sue nodded, still upset, and the two girls sat watching the boys show off. They chatted as they sat there, getting to know each other. One thing was very obvious to Joyce: friendly Sue was not stupid, but she was basically a simple country girl. Her view of life and sex, like those of many girls raised in rural areas, was earthy, direct, blunt. She spoke openly of Ray's manly build, his broad shoulders, narrow hips, his way of making love to a girl. He was pretty rough when fucking, she said, but she actually seemed to admire this trait, as if it were manly and desirable. She confessed, though, that when it came to "good old fucking," she much preferred her brother, Rex. "I like the way he's built better," she said, winking.
Joyce was startled by her admission of sexual contact with her brother. She seemed to admire the great size of Ray's cock and Joyce wondered why she preferred fucking with her brother instead of the super-hung Ray. They sat there, leveling with each other in frank "girl-talk" and dangling their bare feet in the water. Twice, Sue reached over and palmed Joyce's left breast, jiggling it as though weighing it and comparing it with her own development which was yet to come.
Embarrassed, Joyce kept the subject on the boys. "You mean, you'd rather have a littler prick inside you than a—a big one?" she asked confidentially, her voice lowered to a whisper.
Sue considered the question thoughtfully, puckering her lips. "Well, it isn't so much the size that counts," she whispered. "Like I told you, it's the way Rex is built. See, some boys' peckers stand up high—like right against their bellies, you know? Then others—well, they don't stand up so high. The thing is, Rex's cock sticks almost straight out, so it feels better slidin' in and out. My pussy's built so we just kind of fit together, ya know? With Rex, I always come. With Ray, and plenty of other dudes, I don't always get that super-yummy feelin', ya know?"
"N-Not exactly," Joyce replied.
Joyce glanced over at Denny, studying his hanging prick that swayed with his every move. "How does Denny's cock fit inside you?" she inquired matter-of-factly.
For some reason, Joyce found she didn't want to talk about sex with her brother. Oddly, too, at the same time, she did not want to admit to this more experienced country girl that she and her brother had not actually fucked as yet—that they were both virgins. She decided to be frank with Sue, though, and she spoke of her boyfriend, Roger, in San Francisco and having French sex with both him and her brother.
"Whoo-eee!" Sue said, grimacing. "You mean to say you put your mouth down there—where they pee from? You city folks get kinda kinky, eh?"
It was as though Sue's country upbringing—her closeness to animals—had rubbed off on her. Because animals didn't make French love, people shouldn't either. But Joyce remembered seeing dogs and other animals munching on each other's privates. She didn't mention this, though, because she realized the futility of making Sue understand. Still, she was curious about Sue's fucking experiences. She wanted to know how boys acted once they had their hard-ons inside a girl and how it felt to them.
"You're puttin' me on!" Sue said. "I mean, doesn't your brother like fucking?"
"Oh, very definitely," Joyce assured. "Talks about it all the time. But we're both afraid of getting me pregnant, so we do everything but fuck."
"Shit, if that don't beat all!" Sue said, shaking her head in amazement. "You're fourteen, girl, and you ain't even had a cock up inside your hole yet—not even your own brother's? I'm sure glad I don't live in San Francisco! Me—if I like a boy and providin' he's gotta rubber—why I'll screw at the drop of a hat. Feels better'n jist about anything. Even better'n television or gettin' your back rubbed. Still, I guess I would hesitate to fuck my pa though, so I guess I understand what you mean. I always stop pa 'fore he gits around to stickin' it in. Guess I'm afraid our fuckin' might cause trouble with ma. I've jerked him off a few times, though, and he likes to nibble on my new breasts and play with my cunt a little. I think he'd like to put it up my rear—just between the two of us."
Joyce coughed, stunned by this revelation. "Uh—do your mother and father know you're not a virgin? I mean, do they know you and your brother—uh— fuck?"
Sue wrinkled her freckled nose and scratched her vagina. "I figure they must guess I'm no virgin anymore. No, I never told 'em about Rex and me fuckin' all the time. A girl ain't supposed to talk about such things. Even though ma and pa prob'ly done it with their brothers and sisters when they was young, they prob'ly wouldn't take too kindly to their own kids fuckin' each other. That's peculiar, ain't it?"
Again, Joyce coughed. "Yep," she said. "Mighty pee-cul-your."
"Prob'ly has somethin' to do with havin' two-headed young-uns—like that." She pondered this for a moment, then said: "Ya know, maybe it's your brother's fault ya ain't been fucked yet. If he really wanted his prick in your twat he'd a prob'ly done it long ago. Boys're stronger, and as pa always says, if a man wants a woman he just goes ahead and fucks her. All he has to do is git himself a rubber. Rex buys 'em all the time now at Sherman's drug store. That new guy there who helps out Mrs. Sherman—Louis's his name—he sells 'em to Rex. You tell your brother to git himself a rubber and do it to ya. It's better to do it the first time with someone ya know real good, like a brother or a cousin, you know? A girl isn't so scared that way."
"Louis?" Joyce repeated. She wondered who Louis might be. Maybe Denny had seen the man. She would have to check on this rubber business.
"Yep, I think maybe your brother's just a little chicken," Sue said, nodding. "Like last summer when he was here. I remember his really shying away from me. Shit, I been fuckin' since I was ten-years-old, and Denny kept treatin' me like I didn't even have a cunt 'tween my legs. He wouldn't even swim naked if I was around. Tell him to buy some rubbers, hear? We gonna git you fucked this summer—one way or the other." She laughed—a little coarsely, Joyce thought.
"Very well—uh—that does seem like a good idea," Joyce said. "We both want to know how it feels to— uh—fuck."
"Might be a good idea to break your own cherry first," Sue advised. "That way it won't be so messy when Denny plugs ya for the first time. You won't leave so many telltale tracks either. My pa pretty near went bug-fuck the first time he found telltale tracks on my sheets. He's a sneaky, suspicious old fart."
Scowling, Joyce turned her head. This girl Sue, it seemed, had acquired all the expressions she had always detested. Still, there was something genuine and honest about Sue that she admired.