Jackson Robard

The cub-scout mother

CHAPTER ONE

The late afternoon sun was low and sinking fast behind the shopping center, leaving a spray of glowing color in streaks across the luminous sky. Bette Jean lagged behind the hurrying bag boy and turned to look at the coral streaks. Brilliant wavy flags billowing across the sky like gossamer silk. She stood for a moment, warmed by the color despite the nip in the air. At last she turned and followed obediently to the rear of the pale blue station wagon where the boy was loading her groceries.

"There you are, Mrs. Lyons," he said panting, then slammed the rear door and turned to her grinning. "All loaded up and ready to go."

"Thank you so much." Bette Jean pressed a coin into his hard young palm. The tall youth blushed in confusion and tried to put the money back in her hand.

"Aw… no… you don't have to do that. It's a pleasure to load your groceries and stuff… I mean… well… I like doing it for you…"

Bette Jean insisted and in the fumbling he held her hand far too long, blushing and embarrassed. She felt a tiny little thrill chase up her forearm from the contact and then she too was embarrassed. Oh dear. The boy wasn't much older than her son, Gary. A stab of fear shot through her then. Would Gary start acting like men always acted around women? He was sixteen now but she didn't want him to start acting like a snorting bull in a china shop. "Thank you again… sorry to be so much trouble…" Bette Jean almost whispered in confusion and slid into the driver's seat quickly, slamming the door behind her. The bag boy grinned and waved, wheeling the cart back toward the supermarket.

Driving home Bette Jean tried to sort her thoughts. It had been a difficult day. The doctor still hadn't been too sure about her symptoms. Mostly he'd patted her and reassured her… and now that she thought about it, grinned at her just the way that grocery boy had done. But then men had always grinned at her fatuously ever since she was fourteen. If he had a few beers too many, even Lester, her own husband, grinned at her that way.

It had something to do with her being small and having curling chestnut hair and large innocent blue eyes. Every male in sight thought he had to protect her. Well, the only thing she wanted protection from now was male attention. It was time they left her alone. Certainly it was past time for Lester to leave her alone.

At his age and hers… with the children all gone from home now except Gary… it was almost indecent the way Lester wouldn't leave her alone. Though she couldn't prove it, Bette Jean thought that surely must have something to do with all her headaches and fatigue lately. Couldn't Lester see that she was too old for all that nonsense? At forty after four children she was just plain tired of sex. It was dull and useless and ridiculous.

Bette Jean shook her chestnut curls out of her eyes and her mouth straightened in a line of determination. The doctor hadn't actually said she was not to sleep with Lester… but he had asked a lot of questions about her sex life… wanting to know how often and if she had orgasms… and he had said she was not to overdo. Well, that was enough. She'd been trying for a long time to find a way to have separate bedrooms. Not that she wanted to hurt Lester's feelings but she had her health to think of too. Certainly he couldn't willingly want her to get worse.

By the time she'd put all the groceries away and folded the brown paper bags neatly out of sight, Bette Jean was exhausted. It was familiar exhaustion she experienced often these days and had gone to several doctors about. They hadn't actually laughed at her but they hadn't taken her problem seriously either. At least Dr. Madson had given her those pills and told her not to work so hard. He was better than the rest of those quacks. They just didn't understand female problems. How could they? They'd never been females.

Bette Jean sat down for a minute at the shiny white Formica table. She just had to get her breath. And there was still dinner to think about. Wearily she pushed the curls up off her collar. Gary wasn't home yet either and then she remembered. Lester had given him permission over her protests to spend the night with Jimmy Herter. So there'd be only the two of them for dinner tonight.

She fought down a little shiver, knowing from experience that Lester never failed to get amorous when Gary was out of the house… not that Gary's presence really stopped him. Sometimes she just lay there dying of embarrassment when Lester was venting his animal passions on her helpless body, knowing that their son Gary could be lying awake listening and maybe hearing every sound through the thin walls. A four-bedroom, housing-development house was not made for privacy.

Still it was a nice house. She looked around appreciatively. The new wall-to-wall carpeting made it look even larger, the soft celery green pushing the walls further apart. Lester was a good provider and she should be ashamed of herself for not appreciating him more.

But with her head beginning to ache and this awful fatigue settling on her like a plague, she didn't feel very appreciative. She wondered what mischief Gary might get into at the Herter boy's house. Gary was such a good boy most of the time, but he did need handling. He was shy and sensitive like her. You'd never even know he was Lester's child except when he flew into those unpredictable rages now and again.

Bette Jean forced herself to get up and change her clothes before starting dinner. It wouldn't do any good to get her new beige suit dirty making dinner. She hung it up carefully in the bedroom closet and started automatically to put on her old blue wraparound… but a chance glance at herself in the mirror stopped her.

It seemed a shame to cover herself with that old thing. For a stolen moment she allowed herself to look at her reflection. She did look younger than she was. The face smooth and unlined and youthful. Her skin was still flawless and creamy, the chestnut hair curling softly around her pretty face, the blue eyes wide and innocent, framed with thick lashes. Even after four children her body looked exactly the same as it had when Lester was courting her except that her breasts were even fuller. They almost spilled out of the pale, nude-colored brassiere but her waist was still very tiny and her hips trimly curved, her legs slender and shapely. She did look young and pretty and at her age she should be grateful, but looks had never brought her anything but lecherous glances, Lester's awful pawing and lusting and four children in almost as many years. She'd raised them and nursed them and now they were all gone except Gary. Damn it. It was time she had some peace, some time for herself, maybe even some night courses to keep her occupied.

She turned back to the closet and fingered the clothes. The habit of wearing slacks around the house had never appealed to her. Finally she settled on a pink flowered cotton blouse and skirt. At least it was permanent press so it could be washed if something spilled on it. If she was going to convince Lester of anything she'd have to look halfway presentable. Bette Jean cinched a wide pink leather belt around her tiny waist and went back to the kitchen.

As she bent to peer into the refrigerator to check the leftovers she felt the uncomfortable clamminess of her panties. She straightened and shivered delicately. Those awful examinations at the doctor's always left her feeling unclean. That terrible jelly they used when they had to examine a woman inside. Some of it always oozed out and dampened your panties. Bette Jean went back to the bedroom. Holding her skirt up she shed the dampened panty hose and underpants, washed herself thoroughly and slid on clean white panties.

The enameled clock over the oven stated unemotionally that it was five o'clock. Lester would be home soon and still nothing even started for dinner. Bette Jean flew. The pork chops. Yes, they would do. Easy, and Lester liked them.

Just as she was sliding the chops into the oven along with a pan of sweet potatoes and a cottage pudding, Bette Jean heard Lester's truck lumber into the driveway. Suddenly her heart was pounding violently. No. She mustn't get panicky now. He would bellow but he'd just have to get used to the idea that she wasn't going to put up with his lust any longer. Her health was endangered. She was sure of it. Why her heart was almost pounding out of her breast right now and she felt faint and queasy.

Lester Lyons climbed wearily from the truck. Hell, he guessed he was getting old. Just didn't seem to have the old snap somehow. He went into the utility room, sat down on the little bench and untied his boots. Bette Jean gave him hell if he walked on her clean kitchen floor in his boots. He took them off and dropped them.

He looked down at his big sock-covered feet for a moment. Lord he was tired. Boiler making was hard work, there was no doubt about that, but it never used to bother him. Lately he was tired all the time. Shit. He was beginning to sound like Bette Jean. She complained all the time lately, kept buying bottles of this and that, running to doctors all the time.

Lester rose and stretched. God damn it, there wasn't anything wrong with Bette Jean and there wasn't anything wrong with him. They just weren't getting enough fucking. He frowned, trying to remember just how long it had been since he'd gotten to her. Hell, must be at least three weeks or more. That God-damned woman could think up more excuses. Her head ached, she wasn't feeling well, his hands were too dirty. Hell. He looked down at his hands now. They were hard and grimy and callused.

Hell, he'd just take a shower before he went on in. Quickly, Lester shed his dirty work clothes. That's why he'd put the shower in the utility room anyway. He stepped into the hot spray and let the water course over his tired body. Soaping up and scrubbing he began to feel better.

Gary was over at the Herter boy's, so there was going to be no God damned excuse tonight. Christ. He was so horny the hot water and the feel of his own hands washing his cock made it jump a little in anticipation.

Bette Jean could hear the shower running out in the utility room. Lester was good about not tracking up her spotless kitchen floor. She set the table in the kitchen and put the coffee maker on so it would be all ready. Things had to look nicer than usual. Lester grumbled when she made him pick up but secretly she knew he liked the way she kept the house all shining for him.

A bowl of marigolds on the white table looked just right with the gold place mats. She adjusted the knives and forks slightly and stood back, pursing her full lips. Now what had she forgotten. Oh, of course. Lester liked homemade applesauce with his pork chops.

She stirred a lump of butter into the pan. Fortunately she'd made some yesterday that only needed to be warmed with some butter. Turning the fire very low, she adjusted the lid and wiped her hands on her apron. Abruptly she heard the shower cut off and a nerve jumped in her stomach. She could see in her mind's eye Lester's hard body, still lean and muscular at 40, hairy and masculine. She stared down at the stove and tried to calm herself. Just the thought that Lester might touch her these days was enough to get her jumpy and nervous. That, if no other reason, was enough to insist on separate bedrooms. It wasn't as if they were kids anymore. Even as kids when they were married, she'd never really cared anything about it. It was Lester.

At first she hadn't thought she could stand it. Aunt Dee had tried to make her understand and help her but Uncle Alf had made it clear that she couldn't come back home to live. He'd sided with Lester and said she was a married woman and she'd have to act like a married woman. So she made the best of it. A few years later, there was Bette Jean's baby sister, and there'd never been any money. The folks killed in that car accident leaving her a baby sister. It still embarrassed her that her sister was younger than three of her children. Aunt Dee and Uncle Alf had been so good to take the baby since Bette Jean had her own little ones to care for. Lester had been a miracle. Even offered to adopt the baby, but Uncle Alf and Aunt Dee had solved the family problem. Wanda was still with the folks, the aging aunt and uncle who'd been so generous.

"Hi honey… what's for dinner?"

Bette Jean whirled guiltily and tried to smile. The smile froze on her face at the sight of Lester, clean and shining, his grin crooked and familiar, dark hair combed, naked except for a bath towel twisted around his lean waist. He was standing in the kitchen, like that, grinning. "There won't be anything if you don't get some clothes on Lester Lyons! Honestly! Suppose the neighbors just happened to glance over this way! They could see you right through the kitchen window!" Bette Jean burst out nervously.

"Well, that's sure as hell easy to fix if that's what's worrying you." He went over to the window and jerked the shade down, drawing the crisp curtains over that. "Now." He turned, grabbing Bette Jean's hand and pulled her to him.

"Oh, Lester. Honestly!"

"Yeah… honestly, I need a kiss and a little more when I get home tired."

Bette Jean fought the sudden clenching of her stomach as he bent and caught her lips. She tried to wrench away the moment his lips touched hers but he strained her to his hairy chest, grinding his lips into hers. She could feel his hard white teeth beneath the flesh bruising her mouth, his big hands seeking her buttocks, pushing her belly right into the bulge of his thing under the towel.

This wasn't the way she'd planned things at all! Why did Lester have to continue to act like an old goat? Her head was really aching now and she pushed futilely against his nakedness. He was as hard and demanding and male as always. What was worse, his nakedness was sending unexpected little thrills chasing under the surface of her skin where the big brute held her. She could feel the big hands crushing the softness of her rounded buttocks under her skirt, her, breasts mashed into the hard chest, mouth captive under his punishing lips and his hot poker tongue darting in between her teeth. Small as she was, she tore herself finally from his arms and stood panting and disheveled against the counter edge.

"Stop it, Lester! Stop it this instant! Leave me alone. Just leave me alone so I can get the dinner on the table. You've given me a terrible headache… and you're acting like a maniac! I just… don't know what's gotten into you." Her hands patted her curls back into place and then smoothed nervously down her apron. They fluttered up to button her blouse even higher against her throat.

"I'll tell you what's gotten into me, woman! I'm horny as hell! You haven't let me near you for weeks. A man's got to have some fucking or he's no man at all!" Lester roared, wheeling and rummaging in a cabinet. "Where the hell's the booze? God knows, I need a drink!"

"It's right here, Lester. Here… I'll get it for you." Bette Jean pulled out the bottle of bourbon. Anything was better than having to endure his kisses and what came inevitably afterwards. Distract him. That was a better tactic. Maybe even get him a little drunk. Then maybe he'd want to watch television and would fall off to sleep.

God damned bitch! Acting like he was some kind of animal every time he touched her. Shit! What the hell was he married for anyway if she was going to act like some damned prig. A man couldn't even touch his own wife anymore.

"Where the hell's another glass?" he roared.

"But I just gave you one." Bette Jean answered meekly.

"I know that! I need two. You're going to have a little drink with me, baby. Maybe that'll loosen you up a little!"

"Oh, Lester, you know I shouldn't. The doctor said I should take it easy." Her voice trailed off as Lester poured the glass half full and chunked two ice cubes after the liquor.

"Here… maybe that's what you need, baby. Loosen up that clenched ass of yours!"

"Oh, Lester… please don't talk like that… I thought we were going to have such a nice evening… I have a good dinner in the oven… it's pork chops the way you like them… and… I thought we'd talk after dinner… I went to the doctor today… that new Dr. Madson I told you about… and…"

"We are going to have a nice evening, baby… just you and me… drink up… come on… down with it…" Lester held the glass to her lips and forced her to take a big gulp. She sputtered and spit as usual but she got it down, her big blue eyes blinking back the tears. She looked so helpless and little, but he'd had enough of her innocence. By God, this was one night she wasn't going to get away with it!

"Now… that's better." He drank thirstily, watching his meek but terrified wife over the rim of his glass. He felt the liquor hit his gut in burning satisfaction. That's what he needed too. It was crazy the way he'd let this woman browbeat him. Hell, she made him feel so guilty if he did the slightest little thing. She looked so little and frail but she'd given him four healthy kids with no trouble and worked like a demon to keep the house shining and spotless. He liked it that way but there was no reason to use all her energy on the house and the kids, which was what she'd always done. He'd begun to realize recently that she'd used him for years just to bring home the bacon. Unwillingly she'd acquiesce when he wanted some tail. Well, by God, those days were over. Hell, he was forty years old. Time he had some decent fucking and a little respect around here. Shit, if he didn't get some soon… why maybe he couldn't after a while, even when he wanted to. The thought made Lester's hand shake slightly as he poured out two more stiff drinks and watched grimly while Bette Jean drank a little more.

"Did something happen at work today, dear, to make you all upset?" Bette Jean inquired softly. "I mean… I certainly didn't mean to make you so mad."

"No… nothing happened at work! I told you what was the matter, woman. Why don't you believe me when I talk to you. I need a good fuck… and so do you…" He slugged down some more of the amber liquid. Jesus. It felt good. Lester watched as Bette Jean looked in the oven and poked the chops. His eyes traveled over her trim figure. Shit! Every time he'd even looked at another woman, he'd been comparing her to Bette Jean and hell, none of them could stand up to her. That waist that he could span with his two hands and those breasts that looked like big melons, juicy and ripe, the curved hips and tapering legs. For a little gal she was one hell of a lot of woman. Not only that but she had the face to go with it. Pretty as a picture. She made some of those movie stars look cheap and overdone. But by God, he was just about ready to put it in anything that was hot and hollow! Twenty years of fighting about sex was just too God damned much. Life was too short and he'd been more than patient. No, by God, he'd been a fool… that's what he'd been… a hen pecked fool!

Lester drank steadily and insisted Bette Jean keep up with him. Somehow she got the dinner on the table though she felt rather fuzzy and relaxed. Her headache had miraculously disappeared and she tried gently to steer the conversation to topics that she thought would calm Lester down. He even grinned fatuously at her and kept patting her hand. He still hadn't dressed and she thought she'd better not make an issue of it even though every time she looked at his naked hairy chest across the table she felt a little faint.

"Lester…" she said softly as she was clearing the dishes from the table. "The… ah… doctor thinks we should have separate bedrooms for a while… just a little while till he finds out exactly what's causing my headaches and the fatigue… and feeling so done in all the time… I thought you could take Donnie's old room… it's close to the bathroom and it'll only be till I'm feeling well again…" her voice rose to a shriek as she felt herself lifted off the kitchen floor into Lester's big arms.

"Don't give me that shit, baby… not tonight! Running around to those God damned doctors making like you're sick all the time… I'm tired of paying the damned doctor bills… I'm tired of being used… I'm tired of never getting to fuck my own wife… and I'm tired of having no rights in this fucking house at all!"

Bette Jean felt every roaring word through her body as Lester carried her unceremoniously into their bedroom and dumped her in a heap on the bed. The tears rose to her eyes. He didn't care. He didn't care one bit about her feelings… he didn't care if he hurt her or made her sick. He was a monster!

"All right, Lester… you win… you always do eventually…"

"Like hell I do!!"

"Just let me bathe quickly. I'm still all sticky with salve from the visit to the doctor today… I won't be a moment."

Her mouth trembled, the big blue eyes were wet with unshed tears yet she spoke softly with stiff dignity as Lester looked down at her smallness.

"All right… but be quick about it, woman!"

Lester stalked back to the kitchen when be heard the shower start, heedless that his towel had long ago fallen off. He'd have one more belt while she showered and then by God there was going to be one hell of a fucking in that bed.

… But, while he waited, he drank. Bette Jean insisted on absolute cleanliness. They had to go through the ritual of a bath, before she would even consider having sex. There were a lot of things he had learned to put up with in this marriage business… too God damned frigging many!

Drinking at the kitchen counter he realized the shower had stopped and he didn't know how long ago. Then, he went into the bedroom, expectantly, and there she was with her nightgown on, covered up and asleep… or feigning sleep. Christ! She had pulled that on him too damned many times, already.

He crawled in under the covers, naked and furious. Reaching out for her, he said, "Bette Jean…?"

There was no answer.

Turning on his side, he moved up close to her supine body and reached out to cup a softly resilient breast in his hand. She stirred, turned to her side, her back to him, legs drawn up, curling herself into a ball, and settled, comfortable, into the mattress.

It had happened this way, too often! Frustrated anger rose in him, spilling over, acidly, as he growled, "God damn it… I know you're awake… and you're just trying to put me off… again! I told you, bitch!"

Roughly, he reached down, grasped the hem of her nightgown and jerked it up above her whitely glowing hips. There was a ripping sound of seams giving way. Her thighs were exposed, nakedly, his hand going in over the swell of her hips to the softly curled down of her pubic mound, worming its way down into the deep triangle of her loins.

"You don't have to tear my nightgown off!" she complained, giving up the pretense of sleep.

"Things like that wouldn't happen… if you'd just act like a normal wife!" Lester fired back. "You knew I wanted it tonight! I told you a million ways."

"But, I don't!" Bette Jean snapped, attempting to writhe her genitals away from his searching hand.

"Look… why don't you let me work you up to it… really get you ready for it… so you'll enjoy it more…" he coaxed.

"You've never made me enjoy it… yet!" She was caustic and hurt and smarting from his callousness.

"Damn it… honey… you've never let me do the right things!" He pointed out. "You hardly ever let me use my hand on your clitoris… and if you'd just once let me use my mouth on your cunt… you'd find out what you've been missing!"

"I'll never let you do that filthy thing… with your mouth… either!" she flared. "And… you know I don't like you to use those dirty words!"

"Damn it, baby… it doesn't have to be this way… an argument and a big hassle… every time I want to fuck you!"

"I told you I don't like those words!" Her voice was cold, deadly.

"There's not much chance I'll stop, now!" he gritted. One more jerk and the nightgown came off in ruined shreds.

"Why can't you wait until tomorrow night? I've been to the doctor. I don't feel well."

"Tomorrow… and tomorrow, again! Christ! I want it, tonight! I've got a big, aching cock… and I've got to use it… on you… because you're my wife! That's reason enough!"

"Go douse some cold water on it!" she told him.

"Yeah… I could do that… but I'm not! You God damned bitch, I could jerk off, too… but I won't do that… either!" he roared. "But there's one thing I've been tempted to do… and I may do that, yet!"

"Wh-What's that?"

"Find another woman… that knows how to fuck!"

"You… w-wouldn't…?"

"I sure as hell will… if this keeps up much longer!" It was a flat statement. He meant every word of it. "I've had twenty hellish years of hassle and I'm God damned tired of it!"

The startled wife turned toward him, panic beating hard in her. "You mean sex is so… important to you… you'd be unfaithful t-to me…?"

"I sure as hell would!"

It had never occurred to Bette Jean that Lester, in his dissatisfaction, might turn to other women for sex. She should be used to his demands by now, but she wasn't. She was tired of being used by his hard body. There was nothing to do now but give in – but tomorrow…

Turning over on her side, facing her husband, now, her reluctant decision made, she said, "All right, darling… if you really have to have it… all that bad… and can't control yourself…"

Lester choked out, "Come here, bitch!" His arms jerked and pulled her close, the hardened shaft of his wildly pulsing cock prodding into the soft flesh of her abdomen.

It was the sexual side of love she didn't understand. To her it was messy, sometimes painful… but never really enjoyable. It was something she had to endure – even more so, now – to keep her marriage intact. Lester's admission of a temptation to stray had frightened her… She didn't want that!

It was as a dutiful, submitting wife, she allowed her smooth, tapering thighs to spread, allowing his hand to rummage there, between her legs, his finger searching for and finding the still flaccid tip of her clitoris, hidden down between the soft fleshy folds of her pussy.

"Lester, please be gentle!" the unwilling wife said, but she caught her breath as he suddenly leaned over her, his mouth closing over the shivering nakedness of her ripely full breast. His arms held her tightly to him as his tongue rolled around and around the quivering pink bud of her hardened nipple, and his teeth nipped at the sensitive tips, sending chilling promises of pleasure through her tense body. For the moment, she was breathlessly absorbed by the sensations, and she was hardly aware of his clawing fingers digging into the tenderly rounded flesh of her buttocks.

"Oohh! Ooooooohhhh! Darling, please… we…"

Lester had little time for playing games. She had put him off too long, too many times, and now he was going to have her this way! He was going to fuck her until the teasing little bitch begged him to fill her belly with every ounce of cum in his body! Pulling at the offending sheet, the aroused boiler maker got the tight wad stripped down away from the smoothly round cheeks of her buttocks, feeling the warmth of her shrinking naked flesh against his hand. The crevice dividing the two cheeks felt mysterious and deep, but shit! He couldn't wait for any foreplay now. All that mattered was getting her legs spread wide and his throbbing urgent cock in deep.

"Nooo! Lester! Not this way… Pleaseeee!" She screamed as his mouth on her breasts suddenly felt like it was sucking her inside out, his teeth biting cruelly at the quiveringly aroused nipples, leaving tiny indentations as a symbol of his enraged lust. Bette Jean was on her back with Lester on top, pinning her helplessly beneath his strong body. She couldn't even twist out from under him as he locked one knee between her whitely straining thighs. Lester paid no attention, continuing his mauling as though he didn't hear her protests. Her dreams had gone long ago but this was the very last time, she vowed.

Above the roar of blood in his ears, Lester could hear her frightened cries of protest, but his anger was unbounded, his pride refusing to give heed to anything but complete and total possession of her still young and gloriously sexual body. The liquor in him hadn't dampened his emotions in the least, but inflamed him to a screaming rage of blind lust! He wasn't himself anymore! He was a wild man, hungry for the loins that had been denied him too long, that were rightfully his! Feeling the silky smoothness of her resiliently curling pubic hair, Lester slipped his middle finger down into the softly quivering flesh of her pussy, searching desperately for the tightly clenched opening he had to have! Oh Jesus, yes!

A helpless confusion engulfed her recoiling consciousness as she felt her husband groping for her naked vagina. Bette Jean tried to clamp her legs together, wanting nothing but to close off access to her helpless body, but he had her unwilling thighs locked wide apart. In spite of her futile efforts, she felt her pussy being lewdly touched as her husband's middle finger probed into the defenseless hair-lined lips, seeking to invade the narrow passage to her womb. She felt nothing but anguish, even when his finger brushed across her slowly awakening clitoris, hardened now but mostly from terror.

"Oooooooohhhh! Please! Lester!" She moaned when his fingers dig hotly into the tender flesh around the opening to her womb. She just couldn't understand why he had gone so completely wild, and she squirmed under his maniacally strong grip in a futile effort to make him understand.

Her body was still a masterpiece after all these years, and just the sight and feel of her made his heart pound. The softly flowering cunt was tight, almost virginal, even after four kids. He worked his finger down between the soft hair-lined lips, worming it inside the warm fleshy passage in a hurried attempt to prepare it for his madly throbbing cock. Bette Jean's moans went unnoticed in his frenzy, as Lester drove his middle finger in and out of the tight, restricting passage with unknowingly savage thrusts. Greedily, he continued to suck and pull at the smoothly erotic flesh of her full, lush breast with his voracious mouth.

Wanting to get it over, but unable to understand Lester's need to humiliate and pain her so brutally, Bette Jean half cried, half pleaded to her passion-crazed husband.

The horrified housewife looked up at the merciless mask of her husband's face as he held her helplessly imprisoned on the bed. All that she could see was the blindly blazing lust in his eyes, and then the giant pulsing erect penis that stood straight out from his loins, pointing directly at her nakedly exposed vagina. He was staring down at her pubic mound like a hungry animal about to feast, and Bette Jean began to shake violently.

"Lester… Please… Waitttttt! Don't do… Be gentle!" she moaned, but he didn't lift his eyes to meet her pleading gaze. It was apparent that he wasn't even hearing her. Oh God! He'd never been so mad and uncontrollable! She was sure, though the evidence of 20 years of marriage and four children belied it, that his huge cock would split her in two. She stared closely at its throbbing length as though seeing it for the first time. The top was thick and purple, a huge bulbous head that seemed to bulge out with his growing excitement. She could see the long shaft lined with a road-map of blood-filled veins which pounded with his heartbeat. The entire long column protruded like a great battering ram from the densely thick forest of black pubic hair covering his loins. The twin sacs holding his balls were drawn up tightly between his hairy thighs, and she imagined the sperm inside was pounding and anxious to be released. Visions came into her head of the huge member spurting out white-hot cum deep up into her from the heated tip, and she felt her inner organs shrink in terrified apprehension.

Lester was frantic, the alcohol and prolonged desire making him impatient as a hot and horny teenager. In spite of his achingly demanding balls, he hesitated to carefully examine the sensually tight pussy nestled neatly between his wife's smooth white thighs. There was something about her cunt that he had never felt about any other cunt he'd ever fucked. It was crazy that his own wife's pussy still held him so enthralled. The silky-smooth, chestnut-colored pubic hair lining the narrow slit of her pussy was interesting in itself, and where it parted around the tight, pinkly pursed opening were gathered tiny beads of moisture. It looked absolutely untouched like a new glove made for his cock alone. There was immense satisfaction in knowing that no other cock had ever plumbed those clinging depths. The waiting pussy looked as though it had a life all its own, ready and waiting to massage the throbbing length of his penis until it had milked all of the swarming waiting sperm from his bursting body. It was still the most sensual sight he had ever seen. Oh Jesus, yes! He had to have it right away! Now!

Shifting his weight to one side, the frustrated boiler maker took his hardened penis in his hand, and moved his hips forward until the thick rubbery flesh of the purple head made light contact with the sweet female warmth of her cunt. Using his cock like a wedge, he moved it up and down in the hair-lined slit until he had parted the soft little inner lips, exposing the thin vertical slit of her cunt-mouth. She moaned when he lightly touched the bulbous head to her partly-aroused clitoris and Lester felt an aching echo in his own chest, a sign that she was ready to be fucked. He didn't really hear the pleading cries that came after. He poised, cock positioned over the coral opening of her cuntal passage, readying himself for the long awaited drive into the cringingly reluctant depths that were legally his.

Dumbfounded by the sight she was witnessing and unable to understand her failure with Lester tonight, Bette Jean began to lose contact with everything, even her immediate surroundings. She wasn't even sure if it was their bedroom or her own bed that she lay helplessly pinned to beneath his body. All she could clearly understand was the wanton nakedness of her own body, spread-eagled out under the mammoth penis about to plunge deep into the depths of her horrified belly. Oh God! He must be crazy drunk!

She raised her head up off of the bed, looking down over the hardened tips of her swollen breasts to her wide-spread thighs. She shuddered. The lips of her small pussy were parted, the hair-lined flesh, speared with the thickly purple head of his long throbbing column. It was poised and ready to drive up inside her body, tearing her vagina into a pulpy mass of shattered flesh. Her pleas for mercy were hopeless! Her husband was beyond hearing or caring! She might have been pleading with a stone or an unreasoning bull. The pressure on the tight opening to her womb became greater and greater until she thought she would be ripped apart! Dear God, it had never been so huge! It couldn't fit! It was much too big! Or she had shrunk. She imagined herself bleeding like a virgin and then hemorrhaging until she died, a wasted, waxen thing! "Noooooo! Noooooo! Pleaseeeee! Ohhh Goddd!"

Her cunt was like a tight elastic band that would not give way to his insistent pressure. His aching cock was ram-rod hard and stiff, and just the excitement of finally having it pressing into her hot unattainable little cunt made it grow even larger. Pushing his knees out to force her legs out wider, he knew that the moment had come, and with a low grunt and a heavy shove forward, his cock was suddenly wrapped tightly inside the opening to her warmly clasping cuntal walls.

"AAaaaaggghhhhh!" Bette Jean felt a great flashing pain dash through her body like she had been stabbed up between her thighs with a hot live poker, and her vainly resisting vagina was stretched wide as it opened to take the giant head of the battering penis inside her. It hurt hellishly, but he had gained his entrance to her tiny passage. She tried desperately to worm her way upward on the bed, to get out from under the painful thrust of his massively brutal cock. Tears poured from her eyes as she screwed her buttocks down hard into the mattress. It was no use. She was held too securely by his arms and legs. Looking down over the tops of her firmly rounded breasts, the desperate wife could see that only an inch of the long, hotly pulsating column had penetrated her body. It was utterly hopeless! She'd die right here in her own bed from the pain of his final entry.

The tightly clasping passage around the head of his bulging penis served only to excite him more, and Lester could feel the sensitive nerves at the tip of his cock sending urgent signals of pleasure deep inside his naked belly. It felt so God damned good! He had to bury it all the way! Dimly he knew Bette Jean was in pain or pretended to be. It was those quack doctors. Shit! She was no virgin! Besides he couldn't keep himself in control. Now with a deep grunt he shoved hard forward again to drive his penis farther up into her nakedly trembling body.

"OOOoohhhhh! AAaaaaaggghhhh! Nnnooooo!" It was terrible, worse than she had ever known it to be and she bit her teeth into her lip in an effort to keep from passing out cold. Her head swam with the alcohol. Lester was acting like a maniac, and she was afraid he would kill her without even knowing he had done so! Totally humiliated by his crude coldness and indifference to her feelings, at that moment she wished she had never seen him! Her defenseless vaginal passage was stretched to the point of splitting and the horrible pain embittered her even more. If I live through this horrible night, she promised herself, there'll be separate bedrooms or there'll be separate homes!

The pain when he shoved forward again in her vagina was suddenly and strangely gone. She couldn't analyze why, but only gratefully accept. Yet the resentment festered like a boil even without the agony. The method he had chosen to fuck her was what hurt. There didn't seem to be any gentleness or understanding, or caring, but only a vicious lusting selfishness for his own gratification. She was shamed, if not physically damaged by his cruel thrusts.

Always small, she felt tight, really tight, and Lester thought his hotly pulsating cock was going to explode any second! The glove-like velvety feeling of her pussy around his slowly sinking penis was sending such tremendous sensations of pleasure-power to his brain, that he'd have to do something quickly to keep himself from cumming before he got all the way up inside her. Jesus! It had to be all the way inside her cunt before he shot out his load of steaming sperm. Forcefully, he shoved hard with all his strength to drive his cock to the maximum depth of painfully stretched vagina. It ploughed roughly down the wet-warm passage until it smacked hard up against the cushiony end-tip of her cervix.

"UUUuuuuggghhhh… AAaaaaaggggghhhhhh!" Bette Jean didn't know what hit her, the suddenness of his full penetration was so severe. She felt as though a giant pole had been plunged into her belly, skewering her up between her open thighs like a roast for the spit, and the surprise of being completely filled by his mammoth penis made her tense up in a desperate attempt to stop the final humiliation. Helpless and hanging from the end of his lust-engorged cock suspended by the fleshy pole buried deep inside her belly, it was the final blow to her ego. Her womb ached from the rubbery fleshed head of his hardness pressed into her cervix, and she raised her disheveled head to look down between their lewdly straining bodies. His dark thick pubic hair was tangled tightly together with the lighter brown hair covering her wide splayed pussy, and it staggered her imagination to believe that his brutally giant cock was now buried all the way up inside her proud body against her will.

The pressure in his balls was getting out of control, but Lester fought off his tremendous desire to cum. Christ! The sensation of having his whole long cock in the warm depths of her slickly clasping cuntal passage! Somehow it made it better that it was against his prissy wife's wishes. Flexing his cock several times he heard Bette Jean's moaning reaction.

Hell! He couldn't wait! Pulling his hips back slowly at first, he drew back the wetly glistening hardness from the hot depths of her womb until only the thickly swollen head remained inside, then with a rush he plunged it unerringly back into the warm buttery depths of her reluctant cunt.

"Ooooohhhhh! Pleaseeeee! God! OH! OH!" She chanted her discomfort to no avail, as she felt her ruthless husband begin to unmercifully pound her battered loins with long hard stabs of his madly excited penis. There was nothing but shame and frustration and a deep hurt at his selfishness, not even waiting for her to adjust to his huge size. Bette Jean couldn't understand why he was suddenly being so extraordinarily cruel, and that thought dominated her to such a degree that she didn't consciously notice the slowly-igniting flame in the pit of her belly. If things had been done in almost any other way, he might have become conscious and realized that his now rhythmically fucking cock was actually beginning to feel good.

The tight, smooth liquidity of her cuntal walls seemed to part before and wrap warmly around Lester's hard driving cock as he shoved his hips forward in a powerful downward thrust. He was fucking her as hard and fast as he could, to make up for all the frustrating nights he had longed to do it to her. Each deep, swift-moving plunge of his long column was like a blow that released his pent-up emotions. The terrible strains her coldness and evasiveness had imposed upon him were easing now in battering, explosive pounding. It was as though he had finally completed an act he had begun years before, and he was furiously making up for lost time.

The helpless housewife was squealing and groaning loudly with each stroke of her husband's wildly throbbing cock. He looked down at her beautiful writhing body as he rammed his way hotly into the nakedly clenching little hole up between her open thighs. Her shapely legs were locked up around his hips, making it hard work for him to fuck her as fast as he wanted. Lester could clearly see the inner pinkness of her tightly clinging cuntal lips as his fleshy moistened cock slid hotly up into her flowered open depths.

The outer elastic-like ring of tenderly giving flesh seemed to flow in with his instroke, and then it would roll back out as he withdrew his excitedly pistoning cock. The hot little cunt was clasping his cock so tightly that he could feel his blood swirling around all the way up inside his balls and he fucked deeply down into the velvety animated depths of her cunt with such force that her buttocks lifted up off the bed. His balls swung free, slamming against the open crevice of the softly rounded moons with a loud lewd smacking noise, and her breasts bounced upward. The curling chestnut hair was spilling all around her head as she rolled from side to side, and oh God… There'd never been a more sensual woman!

The blue eyes were staring darkly up as though she could see nothing, but her tongue flashed out through red, parted lips as if searching for air. Lester, aroused even more by her panting, worked his hands down under the smoothly rounded cheeks of her buttocks to cup them hungrily up ever tighter to his vicious thrusts.

The incessant pounding in her vagina was punishment for her. She understood that dimly. Yet she felt and tried to shut out the growing sensations in her womb. Raising her head momentarily she looked down between her full ripe breasts at the huge male penis sliding in and out of her wide-stretched vagina. It was wet and glistening from her copiously flowing cuntal juices as it pulled from the whiteness of her belly, and when it plunged up inside again, she could feel his large sperm-filled balls smack hard into her roundly upturned buttocks just before the hard, fleshy column was completely filling her again! He drove up in between her widespread thighs with such force that she felt it like a shock wave running through her body, and her softly throbbing breasts were shaking wildly from the impact. It actually felt good, almost too good, but it looked cruel and horrid at the moment, she thought helplessly. Lester was having his will with her body without any regard for her. None! She felt she was being fucked, and yes that was the word, fucked! Like a common whore off the streets!

Despite Bette Jean's lack of response, her buttocks felt warm and soft in his hand, and Lester imagined the tiny puckered orifice hidden teasingly and mysteriously up between their hotly trembling cheeks, just below the tight fleshy warmth of her cunt. Extending his middle finger, he pushed in between her trembling ass-cheeks, feeling the smooth hairless skin of the softly yielding valley leading to her anus. He wanted to touch it, to feel the tight texture of her asshole with his finger, and make her react. The tip of his middle finger made contact with the tightly puckered little opening and he pushed hard against it, eliciting a moan of surprised response. The elastic-like ring of warmly pulsating flesh seemed to loosen and tighten in time to the fucking of his cock in and out of her cunt just above it, and the burly boilermaker twisted it around up to the first knuckle, screwing it hotly up into the rubbery mouth of her hairless little anus.

"Ugggggh! Oohhhhhh! Ooooouuuuuuuuuu!" Bette Jean groaned with the unnatural probing of her defenseless anus! Oh God! An added instrument working at her loins, his finger pressed teasingly around the tiny exposed opening! She felt a strange excitement at the total vulnerability of her every sexual opening.

"Oooouuuuuuuuuu!" Bette Jean gasped when suddenly he pressed again and slipped his finger hard into the tightly resisting orifice, his finger sinking all the way up inside and held tightly by the clinging warmth of her rectum. He could feel the hardness of his cock sawing in and out of her tightly clasping cuntal passage through the thinly dividing membrane separating the two passages, and he probed further driving his digit finger again and again into the rubbery hot depths of her asshole.

"Uuuggggghhhh! Pleaseeeeee!" She screamed, but there was something new, something almost masochistic in the pleasure that poured through her body. Her total exposure and openness to his assault was taking on a new sensation and she twisted her buttocks back onto his middle finger without really understanding why. He suddenly shoved his finger down until his palm was pressed hard against her wide-spread buttocks, his second assault deep inside the hot, forbidden depths of her rectum. Almost immediately, the finger sawed in and out of her anal passage in time to the intense motion of the thick long cock in her cunt. She squirmed on the bed beneath him, the anguish suddenly taking second place to the vibrant pleasures filling her loins. He was debasing her, using her openings completely!

At an instant in time that was only distinguishable by a momentary flash in her mind, she felt an unbelievable pleasure in a masochistic awareness of her entire body. She realized in that second that there was something of great pleasure to be had from being fucked like a whore, and she wanted to know the heights of that pleasure now, in spite of her anger with Lester's rough treatment. It was a discovery of the growing burning sensations in her womb that seemed to emanate from her entire body as it became more and more intense. She could feel her hotly aroused clitoris beating with pleasures that danced electrically over every nerve in her pounded body, and somehow knew that it was going to get better and better. Almost magically she was working her hips up and down in a frenzy. "Aaaaahhhhh! Ooooohhhh! Yyyyyeeeeesssss!" She mewed with newly discovered pleasure echoing in her passion-torn cunt. Slowly she was beginning to respond to his fucking. The warm, strong muscles in her rectum began to slowly, hesitantly, pull and work at his screwing finger, wanting it deep as he drove it through the viselike tightness of her anus. Her whole body was coming to life, her buttocks grinding under the smoothly steaming plunges of his hugely beating member, then raising themselves up to his deepest drives. Now she was gripping his hips tightly between firmly locked thighs as if not wanting him to leave her again. She pulled her legs up, opening her loins even wider to his hard thrusts, and arched her hips up to meet him, twisting and mewing, enchanted by the hard fleshy column shoved deep in her wildly burning cunt.

"Ooohh! Goddd! Yesssss!"

It was too much! Suddenly, processes were set in motion that Lester couldn't stop. She looked so wildly wanton squirming passionately beneath him, that his balls, suddenly and without warning, exploded like hand grenades! The white hot cum began its sensational rush toward the blood-filled head of his cock. Slamming his hips forward to completely bury the wildly jerking head deeper up inside her clenchingly burning womb, he arched his back and threw his head up as the first pleasurable blast of his climax burst into her cunt! He couldn't hold it back, and his cock swelled up to huge proportions as it fired out the stored-up liquid with tremendous jerks.

"Oooooohhhhh! Goddddd! I'm… I'mmmmm!" the crazily twisting housewife felt the hot blast of liquid strike far up into the convulsive depths of her belly, and thrilled to the sensation of the hugely swollen penis as it jerked and throbbed out again and again, firing its lava-like jets deep up inside her hungrily clasping cunt! It had suddenly triggered an emotion she'd thought she was incapable of, a startling realization that she was able to cum! Her mind swam with a thousand lewd images as she kicked her legs out impossibly wide, jamming her cunt up hard into Lester's loins as her belly began to explode in response to his obscenely spewing instrument. The finger buried deep in her rectum seemed only to intensify everything she felt, and she wanted it all, again and again and again!

"Ooohhh honey!" Lester groaned as his balls seemed to shoot right on past the head of his cock. It was himself deep within the depths of her tightly clasping cunt! The hot liquid surrounding his throbbingly pulsating member suddenly gushed out around the thick base, soaking his pubic hair before running slowly down the wide-spread crevice of her buttocks over his deeply buried finger in her anus. His cock was like an insane beast spitting at its prey, filling Bette Jean's trembling pussy with his churning hot cum until it overflowed, mingling together with the whitely cascading juices of her own orgasm. At that moment they were one, coupled in a steaming mass of passion that neither one of them had ever known existed before.

"Ooooooh God, darling! Oooooh God!" She groaned and grunted as her belly rippled with the pleasure she had tried to deny herself, and she was lost in the frenzied heat of complete sexual enlightenment. She was suspended for several moments on a precipice of teetering ecstasy, her cunt welded hotly to the hard fleshy column squirting hot liquid into her belly, and she could no longer deny the sheer exquisite pleasure it gave her. She was a woman, complete and fulfilled no matter how it had occurred, and she wanted it to go on forever… and ever.

For several moments, his cock continued spewing out his whitely flowing sperm, filling her passage with lewd spasms of erotic delight as it traveled up the full lust-engorged length of his rod, then splashing out the dilated tip to strike wetly back against her cervix. But then, he was exhausted, spent, and his arms felt like they could no longer hold anything. He fell heavily on top of Bette Jean's still nakedly writhing body, pulling his finger noisily from her anus as he gasped for air.

It was over, but she didn't want it to stop! Grinding her slippery buttocks frantically against his deflating cock, she tried to milk more life from his semen-drained balls, but it was no use. Slowly the spasms in her belly died down, and with their dying she remembered the way she had been so selfishly assaulted. Her excitement had made her forget her anger at Lester's brutal and cruel indifference.

"I'm sorry," Lester panted, gasping for breath, and only then did she realize that she felt wrong. Her body suddenly began to ache instead of tingle with pleasure. She moaned, feeling the softness of his deflated cock still trapped limply up inside her stretched vagina. Something inside her told her to be hurt and angry, and she looked into his eyes while beginning to sob. He should feel guilty for what he'd done to her, she thought.

"Go away! Leave me alone!" Bette Jean sobbed suddenly, the words coming out like sharp blades intended to injure.

Deflated now, hurt by the words, Lester rolled off her body, his cock pulling from her cunt with a soft, wet, whooshing noise. A thin string of cum clung to the tip of his satiated penis, running like a web to the thin brown strands of her pubic hair as a lewd reminder of his recently unleashed orgasm. He looked at her, wanting to explain all of his pent-up emotions, but the look in her eyes told him that nothing would help right then. He was completely sober now, and reaching the door, he turned to say something to Bette Jean, but she only rolled over on her side, turning her naked back to him. He was afraid to say anything for fear of raising her wrath.

"I have to think, Lester. Sleep in Donnie's room," Bette Jean said. She didn't hear the door slam, but she turned onto her back anyway, her hand instantly touching the tender spots on her breasts. She'd go see Dr. Madson again tomorrow.

Lester looked down at his well fucked wife who now pretended she'd hated it all. Christ! What a hypocrite. He fit a cigarette and sat down heavily on the side of the bed. That damned woman. He'd never understand her if he lived to be a hundred.

CHAPTER TWO

Light filtered faintly through the curtains, faithfully reproducing the lacy intricacy of the cloth in soft swirls of shadow across the carpet and rumpled bed. Bette Jean stared at it through slitted eyes. Her head ached and the inside of her mouth felt dry and tasted brown. There was a heavy weight across her thighs. Heavy and warm and confining… Another weight pinned her breasts. A soft snore rasped thick breaths into her armpit.

Her eyes flew open and the breath caught in her throat as the terrible memories of last night came flooding back into her awakening consciousness. The smell of stale sweat and the musk of sexuality came to her nostrils. Oh God! What horrors married women had to endure! She wriggled and felt the last of Lester's cum from the night before trickle obscenely out of her ravished body onto the sheet, wetting it with his lurid spend. She tried to move but Lester's sleeping body sprawled across her kept her touching the wet stickiness. The ugliness of the entire night flashed through her, made even more revolting by lying here in the clear light of morning, seeing, smelling, remembering.

Pushing her hands under her she managed to wriggle partly out from under Lester's dead weight. Inch by inch she pulled free, which didn't disturb his thick snore except to introduce a few snorts.

The shower was hot and cleansing and Bette Jean stood gratefully under its stinging spray. There was no question in her mind now. Lester would use Donnie's room or she'd leave. She couldn't… she wouldn't be subjected to such indignities again ever. Even the threat that he would seek another woman wouldn't change her mind. It wouldn't be easy. The word always got around and she'd be humiliated if he took a mistress but it was better than being his housewife-whore! Let him vent his hideous animal passions on some other poor female… but it wouldn't be on her body again… ever… no matter what.

Strangely, aside from her headache she didn't feel too bad, she mused, rubbing herself briskly with a large soft towel. There was an unfamiliar sense of well being and almost of euphoria. Even the sight of her full white breasts marred by the faint blue bruises could not dampen her spirits. It was will power, of course, and knowing that you'd taken a stand and couldn't be budged.

The doorbell shrilled as Bette Jean buttoned the ivory satin robe around herself. It was the Christmas robe that Lester had given her several years ago that she'd never worn. Too dressy for cooking breakfast and too showy and provocative in the evenings. Bette Jean had saved it in case she ever had to go to the hospital. But somehow it seemed the right time to wear it now. It was a symbol of her vow, she thought, buttoning the last button as she answered the door.

A long expanse of tanned thigh below a bright red short skirt was the first thing she saw. Looking upward, there was a short navy jacket and a white blouse that showed far too much bosom in the deep V neckline and above that a young but pouty face framed by long sandy hair. Her eyes traveled back down again to discover several suitcases nestled around the navy pumps.

"Yes?" Bette Jean clutched the pale lace at her throat higher.

"Bette Jean… don't you know me?" The pouty mouth split in a teasing smile to show even white teeth.

"I… Wanda? You can't be Wanda…"

"But I am. It's me… I know I've grown some since you saw me… but I never thought you wouldn't recognize me."

Bette Jean found herself enveloped in strong young arms and a sisterly kiss planted on her cheek. The young girl smelled of strong perfume. She whirled on into the house, laughing and talking.

"It's your baby sister! Been a mighty long time, I know… but here I am! My… what a beautiful house you've got, Bette Jean. Makes home took pretty bad… I mean Aunt Dee's and Uncle Alf's. You know… I just thought I'd never get here… but I kept dreaming that some day I would and… after all these years… here I am at last! I can hardly believe it… can you?"

"No… no… I can't, Wanda." Bette Jean tried to smile warmly but she was so taken aback by the sudden appearance of her younger sister that she still couldn't quite take it all in. Her head was full of a thousand questions.

"Why didn't you let me know you were coming?"

Wanda had rushed back to lug the heavy suitcases inside the entry. She brushed her long sandy-colored hair out of her green eyes. "Well… I never was much good at writing… and I just decided it was time I came for a visit… I mean… it's been so long since I even saw you. I'd about forgotten I had a sister. Seems like you and Lester just never can get away to come home anymore. Heavens… it's been at least five or six years since you were home… and well, I just made up my mind and… I can't believe it but I'm here!" She pulled the last piece of luggage in and shut the door, panting a little with exertion. Her eyes were shining and she looked around in wonder.

"You've got just about the prettiest house I ever saw, sister. Some day I'm going to have me a house like this. Yes sir… that's just what I'm going to do. You wait and see!"

"I'm sure you will, Wanda, but you've got a long time to think about that. Why you're not even out of high school are you?" Bette Jean knew her sister was only seventeen but with the clothes and makeup she looked at least twenty or more. No, it wasn't just the clothes. It was the manner, the makeup and something in the eyes… knowing and a little hard. The girl was taller by at least four inches and voluptuously well developed. The last time she'd seen her, Wanda had been a pigtailed little girl, gawky and awkward… now she was grown and… well, there was no denying it… sexy looking.

"I'm just making coffee. We… ah… got lazy this morning… and I was just getting ready to go to the kitchen when you rang the bell."

"Imagine being able to make the coffee in something as pretty as that robe. I'll bet Lester just spoils you good. Well, I'm going to look around and find me a good husband like that in a year or two. Oh… I just can't get over this pretty house. I'd just love to keep a house like this. I will, too. I'll help you with the housework, Sis. I sure will."

"Well… I manage pretty well by myself."

"Oh, I didn't mean it looked neglected. It's just beautiful! I just meant that I could lend you a hand, you know."

The cheeriness of her voice brought only dismay to the beautiful housewife. Automatically she made coffee and started the bacon. She hated surprises and house guests always disrupted her routine. Her thoughts were chasing through her head at breakneck speed. Wanda sounded as though she'd come for a long visit. The bags! Heavens, there must be at least six or eight of them.

"What's going on out here? I sure could use a cup of coffee." Lester walked in amid the girlish chatter, a bathrobe wrapped around his hairy body that failed to cover his bulging muscular calves. He looked sleepy and rumpled and querulous. The drooping eyes popped open wide when Wanda came into his range of vision where she sat at the white kitchen table, jacket off, long legs stretched out and young full firm breasts almost bursting out of her white crepe blouse.

"Well… I didn't know you had a caller so early, honey. Why don't you introduce me…" There was something oddly familiar about the luscious long legged creature sitting at his kitchen table at nine A.M. but he couldn't quite place her. Jesus! She sure had legs and tits! You didn't have to have a whole lot of imagination to almost feel those bursting in the palms of your hands or your cock pressed between their warmly inviting roundness. Just looking at all that nubile flesh made the roll with Bette Jean last night seem like a snack to whet the appetite. The green eyes were looking at him appraisingly too, framed by the swing of silky, sandy hair. She was no innocent, he'd judge. A broad only looked at a guy like that when she'd had a little experience. It was as though she'd learned a private language that only males understood. He read her all right.

"It's my sister, Lester. You remember Wanda." Bette Jean answered, busying herself turning the bacon with a long handled fork.

"Why, of course. How are you Wanda!" Lester took her hand and grinned down at her. "You've grown some since I saw you! Yessiree! Grown a lot. Can't much blame me for not knowing who you were. Who'd have ever thought that skinny little kid'd turn out like this!"

"Sure is good to see you, Lester. Has been a long time. I was just telling sister here it must be five or six years."

"Well, we're mighty glad you came, Wanda. House is kinda empty with just Bette Jean and Gary and me. Lots of room. Sure is nice you've come for a visit. You have, haven't you?"

The pink tongue came out to wet the pouty coral mouth. "Well, I hope you'll let me stay a while. I should have let you know, I guess, but I'm not much good at writing."

"Lester! Go get some clothes on!" She hadn't meant for her voice to shrill like that, but the way he was looking at Wanda was obscene. The dirty minded old goat. Bette Jean's hand shook a little taking the eggs out of the refrigerator. It was too much after last night to find the sister she hadn't expected to see, standing on her doorstep like that at the crack of dawn. Standing there with all her suitcases as though she'd come for good.

Lester winked at Wanda, his head nodding at Bette Jean, "The old lady got up on the wrong side of bed. I'll be right back."

Bette Jean's nerves felt strained and tightened all during breakfast, as though attached to screws that turned them more and more taut. Lester was grinning fatuously at Wanda as he ate, his face scrubbed and shaved and shining. Her sister was fawning and flattering her husband till he was fairly preening. It was disgusting.

"Sugar?"

Wanda shook her silky length of hair. "No, thank you. I have to watch my figure."

"No you don't. You just let old brother Lester do that." He laughed uproariously.

Wanda laughed appreciatively. "I'd forgotten what a nice man you married, Bette Jean. If you weren't my sister I'd be kinda jealous."

"He's old enough to be your father, Wanda, and he's getting childish in his old age," Bette Jean answered peevishly, then turned the conversation to Uncle Alf and Aunt Dee. Pouting a little, her younger sister complied, answering questions reluctantly.

Finally Bette Jean got the courage to ask right out. "How long are you planning to stay?"

Wanda fidgeted and blushed. "Well, I was hoping maybe you'd let me stay for good. They're getting so old, Bette Jean. I mean I can't even have a date without the roof falling in. I mean… well, I wouldn't be any trouble. I'd get a job and I could help you with the housework and all. I just had to get away. There's nothing to do in that little old town anyway. All the kids get out and come to town as soon as they can."

"Well, I don't know. It's a sudden thing. I mean, jobs are hard to find here and you might not like it. They're aren't many girls your age in this neighborhood. What kind of job could you get anyway?" Her fears were being confirmed. The minute she'd seen her on the doorstep, she'd known in her bones. She felt a little ashamed of herself then. After all it was her own sister.

"I type some. I took that at school and I worked a while at the dime store. Oh, Bette Jean, I just can't go back. I just can't. I'll die in that two bit town. Honest, you won't know I'm here. I'll help you and I'll get a job so I won't even be here all day."

"Now no one's asked my opinion in all this." Lester leaned back in his chair, blowing smoke rings ceilingward. His thumbs hooked in his belt, he looked at his wife's timid, uncertain face. "You're always wanting to get out more, Bette Jean. You race around trying to get everything done and you've got the explorer guides stuff to do with Gary and you wanted to join the bridge club. Well, now's your chance. Wanda's here to help you with the housework, you could do more things you been wanting to do. I think Wanda'd be a big help to you. Besides, I don't see how you could even contemplate turning your own sister out. Your baby sister. The old folks done their share. It's our turn now. You just tell me which room you want me to put her bags in." He rose decisively. It was settled in his mind and that was the end of it.

Before Bette Jean knew quite what happened Wanda was happily unpacking in what used to be the girls' room and Lester was off to work. A premonition of impending doom settled onto her small shoulders and she made another appointment with Dr. Madson. While Wanda was working, singing and slamming closet doors and drawers, she determinedly moved all of Lester's clothes into Donnie's old room. After last night, nothing was going to change her mind about that!

Wanda stretched lazily. Her hands strayed luxuriously under her nightgown to caress her bed-warm flesh. The soft tips of her breasts came alive under her palms and hardened into rigid little buds of need. Lord, it'd been a while. A girl got almost as horny as those farm boys back home when she had to do without it. But it wouldn't be long now. Lester kept looking at her like he was going to eat her alive.

She smiled and dipped her middle finger tenderly into the sensitive lips of her cuntal slit. Soon, now, she'd have Lester snorting and pawing. He wasn't getting any. Separate bedrooms. Bette Jean must be some kind of simpleton, leaving her husband high and dry like that, running around to doctors all the time. And Gary. That poor kid was almost crazy with needing a good fuck. There just wasn't any fucking going on at all in this house. It was as bad as living with Uncle Alf and Aunt Dee except Bette Jean and Lester were younger. Her finger found the erect little love button up between her legs and rubbed it gently alive.

The house was quiet. Wanda could almost hear the soft slippery sound of her finger on her clit. Oh God, it felt good. Bette Jean had gone off to that Explorer Guide meeting and luncheon. Gary was at school and Lester at work. Her thighs spread slowly as her finger slid up and down the moistened furrow of her desire-enflamed pussy. A whole week now without anything. There hadn't even been any men at the employment agency except one old geezer about sixty filling out an application for janitor. She'd only gone to satisfy Bette Jean anyway. Why worry about a job yet? She could sleep late, eat when she felt like it, watch television. There was plenty of time for jobs later.

Her hand stopped, poised above her slickened cuntal mouth, the breath held motionless in her chest as she listened. A car had stopped and a door slammed.

Lester walked into the still house, the blinds drawn against the light that could fade the carpet. It was dim in the big living room. He turned on the lamp and rummaged through his desk to find the Dreiser invoice. There. He folded it and shoved it into his pocket.

Must be getting on toward lunch time. May as well eat here before he went back to work. Save time in the long run. As he walked toward the kitchen he glanced down the hall and almost jumped out of his skin. Wanda was standing there in the door of her room, just watching him. Christ! She had on some kind of short thin nightgown that made her look more naked than if she hadn't had a stitch on!

"Hi." She packed so much meaning into that one soft syllable that he felt his gut tighten and his cock lurch inside his tight jeans. She just stood there looking at him, the long sandy hair almost touching the pink nipples that showed clearly through the pale yellow fabric. One tanned thigh was thrust forward and a slim hand hooked on one curved hip. Jesus! It was hard to believe that the provocative creature before him was only a kid. Not much older than his own son Gary but she was woman… a full blown woman. It was as though she stood at the end of a tunnel down the dim hallway and she was beckoning him though she never moved or said anything beyond the original laconic greeting. Lester went toward her as though she were a magnet and his cock a bar of magnetized steel. He wasn't even aware of his legs moving until suddenly he was standing right in front of her.

The green eyes looked up at him boldly. It was like she could read everything that was going through his head and was answering all his questions. She was removing all the obstacles without ever once opening her mouth. From somewhere deep inside his gut a groan tore out as his hands reached for her. He was crushing the silky length of teen age girl into his body and his mouth bent to drink from that pouty mouth. The lips opened softly and his tongue surged into the hot cavern that was moist and softly receptive. His hand found the round fullness of her firm buttocks as he pulled the sleek little belly into his aching imprisoned cock. His mouth was bruising those taunting lips and his tongue fucking hard into the sucking mouth that was knowing and practiced. Jesus Christ! This was what a man needed. Oh God, yes, needed like he needed air.

"God damn!" he breathed finally into the fragrant hair in along the curve of her throat.

"It's about time," she whispered, her arms going up around his neck tighter. "Thought you weren't ever going to make a move… thought maybe you didn't want any…"

"Ohhh, Wanda, baby…" he muttered, his mouth kissing all over the firm young skin of her face and throat and ears.

"Wait…" she pulled from his arms and went into the bedroom. Jerking the covers down she crawled into the bed and lay back, posing provocatively for him. The sandy hair was spilled in silky streaks across the pillow, the green eyes mocking him again, the slim tanned arms flung over her head, the long tapering thighs spread out until he could see the hair fronded pink slit between her legs.

"You getting any ideas?" she whispered.

"Hell… I got ideas," he rasped, jerking his clothes off with frantic urgency.

"Well, how about using some of those ideas with me, right now?" Wanda said, a little petulantly. "I'm right here… ready and willing…"

"… and able!" Lester was shaking as he climbed onto the bed beside her and leaned over to kiss her hard, using his lips and tongue, thrusting deeply into her mouth to taste again the sweet nectar of her. His big work-roughened hand went up under the sheer, shorty nightgown to the magnificent mounds of firm, full flesh. He felt their swelling smoothness, paying homage to each in turn, the coraline-pink buds of her nipples coming erect and standing out into his palm.

"Let's get this damned nightgown off of you!" he grumbled, giving it a tug.

"All right, darling… but don't tear it," she warned.

"I don't like anything in the way!"

Quickly, she sat up and removed the fluff of nylon. As it came over her head, her breasts burst from their gentle confinement, thrusting up, proudly, before him. Choking a little, he glued his mouth, instantly, to one nipple.

Sucking and nipping at the erect nib he heard her mewl in throaty pleasure, as he massaged her other breast with his hand, kneading the silky, smooth flesh and feeling the pliant warmth of it. Deftly, he rolled the pink-hued, berrylike pap between his thumb and finger.

Now, that hand left her breast, and went in search of other more tender, intimate flesh. Sliding down across her flat belly, smoothing around the swelling curve of her gently rounded hip and back to the inside of her satiny thigh, to the soft, inner juncture of her loins, his hand roamed in the fleecy softness of her gently squirming pubic mound. Then, his hand dipped between her thighs, as she parted them slightly, for him, allowing him full access to the tight, resiliency of her moistening vaginal opening. He pushed an eagerly slithering finger into the soft wet warmth of her pussy and began to move it in ever widening circles just inside the vestibule of her cuntal passage.

After a few moments, her hips began to undulate up against his probing hand, and he removed the slickly moistened finger from her gently clasping, fast-responding cuntal passage, moving it up through her delicate pussy slit to find the hardening shaft of her tiny clitoris. Lightly, he stroked it, feeling it become even more turgid, under his manipulation. Then, he found the super-sensitive head of the miniature phallus, his touch setting off sensual shocks in her body. She moaned aloud, "Oh, Lester… don't make me wait so long!"

One thing about this hot teenage sister of Bette Jean's, he reflected, she was direct. "Don't rush me, baby. I waited a long time for this," he said, as his mouth left her breast, and his hand deserted her loins so that he could shift positions.

Wanda shuddered as he began rubbing his rough, callused hands over her smooth young flesh. She could almost feel each separate nerve end blossoming under his fingertips as they danced along the inner softness of her thighs. All the excitement she had ever felt before, all the sexual frustration she had felt that morning, all had been secretly stored in some unknown compartment of her nervous system, waiting to be released by a man's touch, was flooding through her. Tiny goosebumps sprang out over the white patched tan of her skin as his hands stroked magically over her sensitive flesh.

She lay immobile for a moment, savoring the pinpricks of sensation following the path of the coarse fingers digging into her flesh. This lovely sensation was a welcome relief from the agonizing need that had been plaguing her. It would be an even greater relief to surrender completely. She had done all that was humanly possible to speed the inevitable and now it was his responsibility. She had made the choice, and now there was nothing to do but accept and enjoy.

Her mind droned on as his fingers traveled the rest of the way to the tingling folds of her nakedly exposed cunt. She could feel the moisture rising there again between her open legs as the exposed hair-lined lips began a slow, involuntary contraction, throbbing wetly against each other. Then, suddenly, his thumbs were on the fleshy ridges, relentlessly pulling them apart. Wands lay holding her breath and glorying with all her strength and youth in the temptation to which she was giving in.

It was not enough; her acceptance heightened the exquisite feeling of air rushing over the rising bud of her suddenly exposed clitoris. Oh God, yes, she was going to be fucked.

"Oh, oooooooohhh, yessss," she moaned softly as the muscles of her body began to relax and her legs fell limply out to the side. The beautiful thrills of pleasure were rippling up her now quivering belly and into the nipples of her throbbingly awakened breasts, drowning out the debasing thought of just whose strange hands were roaming over her nakedness.

Lester grinned, his eyes dancing with anticipation as they feasted on her slowly squirming body. Crawling upward he crouched on all fours over her sensually moving body, pushing her unresisting tanned thighs wider apart. He crawled between them until his face was a bare few inches above the sandy "vee" of her openly splayed cunt. He stared down as it rotated sensuously, expectantly, and his mouth watered until saliva dripped from his open mouth mingling with her wetness in the narrow pink slit.

Wanda felt only the tiniest fear as she felt the flat palms of his sweating hands pushing against the softly yielding flesh of her inner thighs, holding them wide apart. Through lowered eyes, she watched as the dark head dipped slowly downward.

Lester's head sank down between his sister-in-law's now wide-splayed thighs to where the nether eye of her throbbing cunt undulated up to him, expectantly. He saw that slick, viscous droplets of moisture glistened in the coral opening of her pussy.

With a little moan of desire, his head went down deep into the angle of her thighs, his tongue reaching out to snake into the warmly liquid depths of her vaginal orifice, and his mouth clamped tight to the opening in the most intimate, personal kind of oral-genital kiss. She raised her loins up to him, and he heard her moan of ecstatic pleasure.

"Aaaaaaaaahhhh," she gasped breathlessly as his mouth suddenly clamped over the softly raised mound at the base of her belly. As his tongue lanced snake-like into the moist tight slit of her vagina, a shudder rippled through her at the electrifying union of his long thick tongue with her erectly quivering clitoris.

The boiler maker began to work slowly and hungrily, feeling her soft wet pubic hair brushing tantalizingly across his cheeks. With a wild feeling of power in him, he heard her groan huskily from deep in her throat as the hotly probing tip of his tongue worked its way up and down the length of the narrow wet slit. Beginning at the peak of her pubic mound and flicking downward over the elastic-rimmed opening of her hotly clasping vagina and into the crevice of her softly flexing buttocks, it stopped to do a momentary wet probing homage to the tight brown throbbing hole that lay nestled below. Already she was squirming under his tongue and loving it!

Deeper, his tongue probed into her sensually alive cuntal passage, tasting the female taste of her slippery love-dew, the moisture from his mouth mingling with it, as he moved his tongue in circles inside.

The erotic sensations his licking, sucking mouth generated in her eagerly aroused loins raced through her, arcingly, like summer heat lightning. His tongue seared her with its lashing, snake-like searching, and she gyrated her pelvis up to his mouth, voraciously asking for more and more of the ecstasy building oral teasing. Happily she mewled her pleasure, her moans rising in the still house.

Her groans drove him on faster as he worked his way up and down the steaming hot valley, her elbows pressed tightly against her ribs as the searing tongue shot out, its hard darting tip circling the trembling erected clitoris. As his tongue continued its maddening licking against the straining pink bud of her sex, his lips sucked, drawing the warm soft folds of her vaginal lips deep into the hot wet cavern of his mouth. The young girl's hips were now grinding uncontrollably into the bed, soft mewling sounds of animal passion escaping from between her tightly clenched teeth.

Wanda was ecstatic. She had never in her wildest dreams imagined that anything could feel so exquisitely beautiful. Arnie and some of the fumbling farm boys had kissed her there before, but none had done this wild licking and sucking! She wanted to forget everything but this maddening probe between her legs! Oh God, it was good!

His head buried deep in the cusp of her thighs, Lester licked and sucked at her, wildly, his tongue lashing up and down the narrow slit of her pussy, making plunging forays in the moist cuntal channel. Then, up the throbbing clitoris, rising hard from its softly enfolding, hair-lined flesh, erupting even harder and pulsating, warmly, his tongue circled it, then concentrated on the tumescent, sensitive head. He teased it, tantalized it, urging the tiny bud on to ever greater, sensation producing, nerve-tingling sexuality. Wanda was moaning, now, almost incessantly, her wildly demanding pelvis thrusting up against his face, hips moving in lewd circles under the insistent mouth and tongue, thighs opening to him, wantonly, invitingly, wanting even greater enhancement and more inventive titillation of his mouth and tongue on her heated loins.

The pretty young teenager reached down with her hands and began desperately clawing at the short dark hair of the man kneeling between her thighs, trying to guide his face ever deeper in the hotly palpitating opening of her cunt. He let her force him more tightly into the wetly steaming crevice, pressing his mouth directly over the tight little hole in her insanely squirming cuntal valley.

As his mouth surrounded and covered the hungrily grasping cleft, his tongue suddenly snaked forward, burrowing lizard-like up into her desperately straining cunt. In response to the maddening sensation, her hips jerked involuntarily forward, burying the flicking tongue to its roots, and a deep guttural groan escaped from the girl as her soft warm thighs closed around his head. The teenager's heels pushed down against his back, pressing his body into the flesh trap until he couldn't breathe. His nose was smashed tightly against the tiny hard clitoris and he could feel the wetly fleshy walls of her brutally invaded vagina opening and closing in a sucking motion around his hotly stabbing tongue, attempting to pull it deeper and deeper.

Unable to tolerate the position she had put him in, the powerful man reached up and grabbed her flailing legs behind the knees, shoving them roughly back over her shoulders so that he could breathe and move freely, then went back to work with his tongue. He wanted her begging for it when he was ready to ram it to her and she was almost there. His tongue worked like a pile-driver in the flame-searing hole of her upturned cunt, withdrawing and plunging, withdrawing and plunging, making a lewd wet sucking noise with each deeply powerful thrust. Her cries were one long low continuous moan now, as he withdrew the lashing tongue suddenly from inside the warm smooth passage and found the hard throbbing clitoris and licked. He moved his face higher in her madly pulsating cuntal slit and began to suck and tease at it wildly with his teeth while she writhed and churned her buttocks above the mattress in a lewd dance of uncontrolled desire.

"Oooooooooo! Oooooooooo!" she chanted, her body and mind completely lost to the delicious and obscene sucking of her loins. Her cunt flowered open wider and wider, and the moistness increased with each second his mouth worked at her, nibbling the hair-lined hole. The cords of Wanda's neck stood out as she pulled with all her strength against the tangled dark hair of her brother-in-law's head.

The young girl was aware of nothing but the mass of exquisite sensations centered somewhere deep in her belly, overpowering all other thoughts but the magnificent pleasure building deep inside of her. She was going to cum! This was it! She had never dreamed it would be as wonderful as this! "Why had those dumb boys withheld from her something so beautiful?" She vaguely wondered as she panted and writhed beneath Lester's lawlessly plundering tongue and mouth.

"Aaaaaah, aaah, yesss! I… I'm cumming," she suddenly wailed, as her body began vibrating uncontrollably. The juices from her orgasm oozed around Lester's deeply thrusting tongue, coating it with its sticky warmth and trickling down the crevice of her white globular buttocks and over his chin that pressed hard against the brown puckered anus.

He continued to nibble and suck between her widespread thighs until her body went limp, and then he lifted his head, releasing her legs so that they could fall back in exhaustion on the bed, splayed on either side of his panting torso. He could tell from her face that Wanda's heart was beating in her chest as though it would burst and her head was still whirling with the rapturous effects of heir orgasm.

As her eyes fluttered open, she almost expected to see the accusing face of her sister hovering over the bed, promising punishment for her wanton performance, but her eyes first met the hungry gaze of Lester.

He'd begun to think he wouldn't be able to wait much longer; he'd have to get it into her cunt pretty soon for some regular, old-fashioned fucking! Jesus! He wanted to fuck her in that luscious cunt that he'd sucked and eaten. Christ! She should be ready!

Her shamelessly aroused body suddenly jerked spasmodically and began a slow abandoned movement as she allowed herself to sink deeper and deeper in the waves of delicious sensation that were coursing over her body. Every muscle was tensed as she strained her hips upward toward that maddening cock probing between her legs. She could feel the full length of the rigidly fleshy hardness sliding up and down her helplessly quivering open slit. The jerking head of Lester's cock rested throbbingly between her wildly splayed thighs, insinuating itself up and down, up and down, in a cruelly maddening teasing that sent her pelvis undulating toward it, her hungry cunt searching desperately for the hard, blood-filled tip.

Oh God, she had to have it in her!

The boilermaker sensed her sudden submissive surrender and with a savage grin, he laughed, "Here I come, baby."

She was his now, he gloated to himself as he grabbed her straining legs behind the knees and shoved them roughly back over her shoulders again, slithering up her rhythmically moving body at the same time. His long lust-stiffened cock grazed lightly against her damp light pubic hair as he planted his hands on either side of her shoulders as the ankles locked tightly behind his neck.

Looking down between their bodies, he could see her upturned ass, the expanded yet narrow slit visibly throbbing its lips in invitation to his wildly jerking penis. The pressure of his thighs pressed tightly against hers held the hotly moist slit wide apart.

Wanda frantically reached down beneath the rotating cheeks of her ass and tightly grasped the thick length of the stone-hard penis. Her slim hand barely rounded the great shaft of the blood gorged flesh and she could feel it pulsating hotly in her fingers. This was what her belly was screaming for! Careful not to hurt the precious instrument, she gently guided it up the valley of her buttocks and wedged the fat throbbing head between the wetly swollen lips of her pussy. Then, she placed both hands on her brother-in-law's buttocks and tried with all her strength to pull it into her starving pussy so it would drown the gnawing heat that was burning her up inside.

She writhed her body, attempting to change positions beneath him, the breath still panting out her mouth. As the lust-engorged head of his wildly pulsating cock nudged into the moist warmth of her cuntal slit, she lined it up, the satin-smooth bulbous head entering her cunt-mouth with a rush. He flexed his hips and drove it up into her, fiercely, in one lunging, moistly sliding action, the long, thick, blood-corded shaft of his cock buried to the root in her clasping, ready cuntal passage.

"Ooooohhh! Darling… OOOooooooohhhhh!" she groaned, with the pleasure of it, as his great cock plundered the depths of her vagina, the massive hardness of it ramming deep up into her… almost, it seemed, to the very core of her body!

The moist heat of her captured him, enveloped and absorbed him, completely, as he went into her, the soft wet folds of her cuntal sheath clamping around him, caressingly. He could feel the delicate, inner muscles of her vagina clasping and unclasping on him, for the full length of his insanely lusting cock. It was almost like a milking action, the sensations of it an exquisitely erotic torture. He held his madly beating penis immobile in her cunt, not moving yet, for his whole being was there, in his pulsing, hardened cock, deep inside the smooth softness of her moistly ready cunt.

The boiler maker flexed his muscles, feeling all the agonizing frustrations he had built up over 20 years of trying to be a good husband to that foolish woman, Bette Jean, surging forward with him into the warmly wet flesh of the groaning girl below him. He gasped aloud in the breathless silence of the bedroom as he felt the tightly hot walls of her spasmodically contracting cunt soothingly slipping over the rock-hard length off his thundering cock! He lunged!

The young teenager's face was contorted with the pain-pleasure of the cruel stabbing. She screamed in a litany of agony and exultation. Her vagina felt twisted and stretched as though she was being impaled on a small telephone pole. In agony, she fought the invasion, clenching the muscles of her buttocks tightly together to keep the long hard fleshy staff from burying itself further in her agonizingly tortured pussy. Then in exultation she drove him on and she could feel the brutally monstrous cock throb and grow inside her until she felt stretched and filled beyond all possibility.

Lester smiled to himself as he felt the throbbing pressure exerted against his deeply buried penis, knowing that her own hunger would soon help her to become accustomed to his thick presence rammed so far in her belly. Not moving his body, he flexed his penis, expanding it inside her helplessly pinned vagina.

"Agh!" she gasped breathlessly, her eyes tightly shut as she battled with the fine line of pain and pleasure.

Lester waited a moment and flexed again, waiting for a reaction to show that she was becoming accustomed to the monstrous intrusion.

She groaned again, but more softly as she felt the buried cock expanding and stretching the narrow walls of her throbbing passageway.

He confidently flexed again, this time setting a slow, teasing rhythm to the deep throbbing of his lust-impaling cock. Suddenly, he could feel her urgent answering throbs begin around the head of his penis. She groaned helplessly beneath his spasmodically lurching cock as her hips again began the slow involuntary roll that signaled the rekindling of the uncontrollable fires burning deep in her loins. He could barely contain himself as he felt her hungrily nibbling cunt begin to screw itself up tighter against his loins.

Wanda felt her body coming to fiery life again. The pain had magically disappeared, giving way to a maddening tingle that was rapidly spreading from deep in her womb to the farthest of her raw nerve ends. The sensations throbbed out in waves that danced like fire across her skin, from her head to her toes, each time the huge impaling rod of flesh lurched deep in her belly. Her whole body twitched and writhed beneath her motionless brother-in-law and she groaned incessantly, shoving her tongue with a sudden complete abandon deep in his mouth. She could feel his huge hairy testicles brushing down lewdly against her exposed anus between widespread buttocks, and a strange masochistic joy rippled through her. She waved her hips up toward him, her vagina dilating in time to its rhythmic beating.

"Do you like that, baby sister?" he murmured, sending a particularly forceful throb deep into the very depths of her being.

"Oooooooh," she groaned helplessly as she rotated her hips around the hard fleshy rod. The dilated lips surrounding her pink cuntal slit nibbled hungrily at the fully inflated penis, sliding moistly down the shaft for several inches, then working slowly back up, until his dark pubic hair tangled with her own softly curling pussy hair and the full length of him was embedded deep in her naked belly.

"Tell me, baby, tell me what you want," he prodded her, pulling his loins a teasing few inches away from her. He watched gleefully as she tried to strain up to capture his length again as he kept pulling his cock just out of her reach.

"W-what?" was all the preoccupied girl could manage to gasp.

"Just say it, tell me you want me to fuck you and I will."

"Oh, God, yesssss," she gasped.

"Do you want me to stop now?" he insisted, throbbing harder in her now hungrily contracting little pussy.

"No… ooooooh. No, no, don't stop! Don't ever stop!"

"Say it then!" he demanded, savage fires burning in his eyes as well as his gut.

"Oh, please," the defenseless girl murmured, "Give it to me!"

"No, that's not right," he tormented. "Say the words. You know them!"

He increased the teasing probes until the burning need deep in her loins screamed for release from its agonies. Nothing mattered anymore but to still the maddening hunger within her and she began blurting out the words he had waited to hear.

"Oh, fuck me! Please, fuck me!" she pleaded. "Fuck me now! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!"

Lester began to fuck into his sister-in-law with short, quick thrusts, upward into her warmly moist depths, holding himself aloft, above her, cradled between the long, sensuous thighs. Using all of the strength of his powerfully muscled back and legs he drove his huge cock home into the tender, softly clasping vagina, bringing constant moans of ecstatic pleasure, moaning deep in her throat.

"Come on, Lester… give it to me! Faster! Longer! Deeper… and harder!" she gasped, demandingly, wanting more and still more of him!

He knew what she wanted. His hard, blood-engorged cock began to drive deeper and longer into her, its great girth pulling soft, irregular edges of cuntal flesh out with it on each outstroke to reveal the moistly coraline lining of her cuntal passage. The pulsating flesh dived inward and disappeared on the punishing instroke.

There, beneath him, she could feel the hard, hot shaft of his mighty cock rampaging into her, generating ever more desire, and she couldn't get enough of him! She incessantly goaded him on with groans of pleasure, interspersed with her specific, coughed-out demands. At times, she chanted a sexual litany, in rhythm with their thrashing bodies, her pelvis moving in perfect counterpoint to him, in wild, uncontrolled passion!

"Fuck me, Les! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuckmefuckmefuckme! Hard! Harder!" she chanted up into his face, her own countenance a study of hedonistic eroticism.

Lester complied. He ground into his beautiful 17 year old sister-in-law with renewed energy, pulling his knees up to gain more leverage and strength, as her hips squirmed up at him, uncontrollably. Straining back at him, with almost equal animal energy, her pelvis arched up to take all of his thickly hardened cock up into her narcissistically needing loins.

She really knew what she wanted… and went after it. In a way, she was like himself, in that respect. What a woman she was… and what a perfect sex-mate! Jesus! This was the one he needed!

"Oh, oh, God… I've got to have more! Give it to me! Shove all of your cock in me! All of it!" Wanda demanded of him.

Leaning up, momentarily, he grasped her knees, spreading her thighs yet wider apart; then, with his arms under her knees, he pressed her legs back against her chest to crush the full, white mounds of her breasts, cruelly. In this position, he went into her, deeply, on every stroke, his loins cracking into her defenselessly naked and wide-open cunt with punishing brutality. She was being pinned to the mattress by his big cock like an entomological specimen speared with a tack… and she loved every plundering stroke of it, as he plumbed her very bottom, his heavy balls slapping hard against the tiny, crinkled brown ring of her anus, below, in the crease of her wildly flexing buttocks.

She hung there, on the rapidly crumbling edge of orgasm, but she couldn't cum, yet; she had to have more!

"I'm… almost there, darling… but I can't cum yet!" she choked.

His hips began to move in and out with long, hard strokes, pistoning into the passage that was now wet and slippery from the young girl's rising excitement. His own breathing came in short bursts and the sight of her magnificent breasts swaying wildly, the nipples tightly erect, made him plunge even more deeply, driving her a few inches up the bed and making her neck arch with sudden sensation.

"Oh, yes, oooooh," Wanda groaned out her submission to the lewd sensations racing through her ravished young body. She welcomed the lewd dancing flames of desire coursing through her veins and prickling around the base of her spine as she responded to the measured cadence of Lester's cock driving in and out of her submissively up-turned loins. She could feel each movement of the huge fleshy shaft in her narrow channel, the giant head slithering up and down the warm, slippery passageway and the sharp slap of his bloated balls against her exposed anus as he lunged forward on each down-stroke. Maddening rushes of cool air eddied between her wide-splayed thighs each time he withdrew, drying the thin rivulets of sweat that trickled hotly down from his straining loins.

"Oh God! Make me scream! Make me… cum… and cum!"

Her brother-in-law, slaving above her, became all the more inflamed, his own passion rising to white heat, as she kept asking him, urging him and demanding the utmost of him, as she rose to meet his pistoning cock in her cunt with every powerful stroke.

He reached under her, lifting her buttocks easily into position, while he continued driving his wildly pulsating cock deep into the closely sheathing moisture of her ever-demanding cunt. Finding the crevice between her buttocks, he stretched it wide, his middle finger searching for the softly, resilient lower opening. He found it, and with his middle finger, moistened in the viscous drips of lubricant that dribbled from her omnivorously heated vagina, probed at the tiny, tight nether orifice. He slipped the tip of it into her wildly flexing rectum, lewdly, working it in, gradually, until he felt the taut muscle ring give, slightly. Then… he pushed a little harder, and the elastic flesh of her hot anus relaxed, his finger slipping in to the first knuckle. He felt the shock of it in her body, as she recoiled, instinctively, to escape it, squirming her smoothly round buttocks down and back, away from that probing painful digit in her back passage.

She panted up into his face, "Make it hurt… darling!"

He did what she demanded. He jabbed his finger into her, all the way to the palm of his hand, reaching up into the warm sponginess of her smoothly lined rectum to bury it deeply in her without mercy.

"OOOoooooohhhhh! AAAaaaaaaaauuuuuuggggggh! That's it… It hurts… so good! OOOooohhh!" she screamed, her passion soaring with the excruciating sensations it generated.

Wanda screwed her rectum back against his finger in her rear entry, and Lester knew that she was enjoying it to the fullest. He began to move his finger, swirling it around and around in the fleshy confines of her rectum. As he did so, he could feel his cock through the thin wall of separating tissues, where it raced in and out of her vagina. He was amazed at the heightened sensations this generated in his lustfully aching cock, and now, he began to move his finger in tempo with his penis, skewering her loins with both, at the same time. Beneath him, she moved her hips in opposition to him, accepting both instruments in her salaciously needy loins, in a wedding of pleasure and pain, and she reveled in it, wanting to go on and on… until she came… and came again!

Caught up in her rapturous passion, she mewled, groaned, gurgled and moaned, beneath him, the sounds emanating from deep in her throat, mixed with short, panting gasps of pleasure or pain, as her brother-in-law pistoned, smoothly, in and out of her lust-filled, cunt and wildly clenching rectum, simultaneously.

Lester knew, then, that she was nearing her climax; a few moments before, he had wondered how long she would hang there, in the balance. As he continued to plunge into her, she mouthed obscenities, driving him onward to even greater effort, his own passion rising in a spiral toward the summit and a final thrusting, shoving, wildly spewing ejaculation. His aching cock became stiffer and harder, coming to full, blood-trapped erection, and he was painfully aware of the dammed up flood of semen back behind the root of his cock waiting to be jetted out the top of his throbbing cock-head to splash into the warm moistness of his young sister-in-law's cunt.

She was wild, now… delirious and uncontrolled as she came nearer and nearer to her time of exquisite rapture… a time when time, itself, stands still… and there is nothing but that ecstatic moment.

"Fuck me, Lester! Fill my cunt with cock! Fill my ass! Fuck me… hard… harder! Fuck! Fuck it! Fuckit! Fuckitfuckit! Oh, fuck!" she chanted up at him, in completely wild abandon, increasing the speed of her chant like a coxswain urging his rowers to winning effort. She demanded her orgasm, wanting it to come to her… now! Then… then, she began the rushing, spiraling, giddy flight to the heights of her rapture.

She came, her body convulsing in surging waves of muscle-clenching orgasm, and she was suspended in time and space, in a euphoric limbo. Then, as in a dream, she heard her own voice, seemingly unreal, screaming out her ecstasy, "AAAAAaaaaauuuuuggghh! I'm cumming! I-I-I'mmm cuuuumming! AAAAAAaaaaaauuuuuggggghhhhh!"

As Wanda screamed with the incredible pleasure of her climax, Lester was spurred on to his own. He jerked his finger from her backside and raised himself up over her, slightly, his steel-hard cock moving faster and faster, deeper and harder. His mighty shaft was like a machine in her, the piston of his cock moving with long, powerful strokes. He felt the load of semen in his balls as it began to jettison from him, pumping through the length of his lust-hardened cock, spewing in spasmodic jets of white, hot, viscous sperm that splashed far up in her wildly clasping cunt, while straining spasms of intense pleasure shot through him in mind-shattering, body-fulfilling waves of sensuality. He held himself rigid and immobile, for a moment or two, letting it happen, then with a huge groan of satisfaction, he collapsed on top of her. Deep inside her frantically sucking cuntal sheath his convulsing cock continued to jerk emptying him, completely!

"Christ!" he groaned. "I'm still cumming… I'm still cumming… in you!"

Wanda mumbled incoherently, "Darling… that was wonderful… absolutely wonderful! Out of this world! It's the nicest fuck I've ever had… Oh, God… Lester… I needed it so bad."

"I've needed it for twenty years, baby," he groaned, smiling down into her serenely satiated face. "We're going to have each other all the time now."

"All the time," she murmured. "All the time."

CHAPTER THREE

Gary stopped when he got to the edge of the neat lawn. The garage door was open and instead of Mom's station wagon, his father's battered truck stood parked inside. Hell, maybe it wasn't such a good idea to con the school nurse into letting him go home in the middle of the day after all. Mom would be all worried and concerned. After fussing over him with aspirin and vitamins, making him hot tea, she'd leave him alone to let him "rest". But Dad was something else. He cringed just thinking about all the questions his stern father would ask and the hell he'd raise over his coming home from school sick.

He stood thoughtfully under the elm at the edge of the lot. He had to think this thing out. Staring at the neat house and trying to decide on a course of action, he chewed on a leaf nervously. Sure couldn't go back to school. Had enough trouble getting out, but he just hadn't been able to sit there another minute. Ever since Wanda had come to live with them it got worse by the day. Lord, all he could think about now morning noon and night was jacking off. God, how could he help it with those huge breasts jumping around enticingly as she walked, flaunting that round-assed bottom, looking at you like she knew your cock was hard as a rock. Jesus Christ, she was only seventeen, almost his age and she acted like she was offering it to him if he only knew how to take it… and she was laughing at him because he didn't. Finally in history class, he couldn't stand it any longer. He had to get home and jack off a while or he was going to be sick.

Maybe if he went around back to the patio, he could hear when his father's truck left and then he could go in. If Wanda was there he didn't know what he would do… just the two of them alone in the house like that. He shivered just thinking about it.

He pulled a lawn chair behind some bushes, out of sight of the windows on the back of the house. The drapes were all drawn anyway but just in case his old man happened to look out for some reason. He'd hardly sat down when he heard muffled sounds coming from the house. Sounded like voices. He crept under the shrubbery to listen. The old man probably just talking on the phone or maybe he had the television on.

Listening hard he managed to locate which room it was coming from. He eased his way closer under Wanda's window. The voices were all excited… one deep so it had to be his dad and one lighter. Wanda was in there with his father! Had to be… who else could it be?

Suddenly Gary froze as his fingers touched the window sill, flattening himself against the white board siding. A ripple of high pitched laughter like a pealing of little silver bells came to his ears so close now. It was Wanda all right. Nobody else laughed that way. Then his father's voice, only it couldn't be! His father couldn't be saying that!

"Move it, baby. God, you're killing me… cut out the God damned teasing… spread those legs and let me at you… I'm gonna fuck you till you can't walk for a week. Huffy!"

Gary's heart was pounding out of his chest and it was hard to breathe. He cupped his hands around his eyes to cut out the sunlight, straining to see into the dim room through the small crack in the drape where it hadn't quite closed.

Oh God! His father was bare ass naked! Gary could see his hairy legs and buttocks as he was bending over the bed. She was laughing as she kicked out to rid herself of white panties which clung damply to her ankles. Gary saw his father reach down and pull the panties off her feet and fling them down. Wanda was as naked now as his father. Oh Jesus Christ! There wasn't a stitch on that naked writhing body, tanned except for pale patches over the breasts and a narrow white strip across her lower belly where the bikini had shielded her skin from the sun. Gary felt as though he were going to choke and retch and die of excitement! Wanda was the first real live naked girl he'd ever seen in the flesh! The firmly ripened breasts were tipped with rosy points of nipples and the slim waist flowed into curved hips and long shapely thighs. Between those thighs he could see the pale sandy pubic hair and then as she slowly writhed like a snake on the bed, her legs opened and he could see the hair fringed pussy mouth, pink and pulsing. Oh God a' mighty! His hands grew white and the fingertips pained something terrible as he gripped the edge of the sill with all his strength.

He wanted to bolt over the edge of the window and fling himself into the widespread naked girl and bury his own aching cock into her moistly opened, expectant cunt. His breath was coming in such ragged pants now that he thought sure they would hear him. He tried to force himself to breathe through his nose but his mouth was a desert and his tongue a bloated parched thing that kept flopping out of his mouth.

As Gary looked from his hiding place he could see between his father's legs. He could see the pulsing rubbery tip of his cock grazing the soft velvet flesh of Wanda's vagina. He almost called out from the window, begging her to save herself while there was still time, but one look at the rapturous expression on his young aunt's face stilled the warning in his throat. Seeing the thick rod of male flesh rubbing against the swollen pink cuntal lips, Gary wondered again why the girl showed no fear. Christ! Gary knew that the hard, club-like instrument was too large to ever fit, even by force, into the narrow opening of Wanda's tiny cuntal passage. Still, she seemed willing, almost frantic, to have the huge masculine phallus thrust into her.

Gary watched breathlessly as his father eased forward, as if to ease the pain of the initial thrust. But the mouth of the girl's cunt seemed to be clasping and reaching at his shaft, as if to suck the rock-hard flesh up into her. The girl's hips began a desperate rotation up against his loins until her legs, without warning, snaked out wide on either side of his father's body, her calves locking against the back of his thighs, pulling him closer to her.

Little mewling noises came from deep in the girl's throat as his father deftly wedged his enormous cock into her vulnerable open pussy, accompanying each thrust with a loud bestial grunt. Gradually he levered into her, the length of the giant angry red pole disappearing between the tender pink folds of Wanda's moist hair-lined opening, while she shamelessly ground her entire body up against him.

As the man slid his wet gleaming cock in and out of the soft cavern of the girl's hair-lined slit, Gary viewed the scene, his mouth agape in amazement. The young girl on the bed had winced in pain, but only at the initial penetration, and now the great male cock invaded her rhythmically like a drill tunneling deep into her belly, drawing muted moans of ecstasy from her lust-contorted lips.

As he watched, his emotions were a mingling of excitement and disgust. Gary felt as though he was going to cream in his shorts just from watching. At that moment he could have killed his father joyfully and taken his place.

Inside the window, the couple were gasping and panting in delight as the man began to rock more violently in and out of the girl's now hot and steaming pussy. His young aunt began a series of lurid gyrations, swaying her buttocks in long sensuous circular motions to accommodate the long thick cock fucking into her.

"Ooooooh, darling, please, fuck it hard! Fuck me harder!" Gary heard the girl gasp. Almost unaware of his own actions, Gary's hand was rubbing his bulging penis frantically. He knew that his excited reaction to the spectacle was horrible, debasing, but somehow he couldn't stop – not while the animal grunts from the room filled his ears with their carnal symphony of licentious lust.

The young boy watched spellbound, as the girl's eyes opened and closed in a lost glaze of passion. His father's balls were slapping wetly against the girl's raised buttocks, and he slammed brutally into her moist red slit, burying his cock to the hilt with every thrust. Shivers of lewd delight surged through Gary's nerve ends as he realized that this was a madness he had never known – a total surrender to the lure of the flesh. He screwed his hand down hard against his throbbing cock, trying desperately to imagine that he, too, was pumping into that soft little pussy.

Suddenly, the young girl's body arched stiffly in spastic irregular movements, and his father clasped his hand tightly over her mouth to muffle the scream of exquisite pleasure that rasped from her throat. Filled with concern for Wanda's safety, Gary watched, until he realized that the girl was not in pain but in the throes of unbearable pleasure. Overwhelmed by the sight of the girl's body being wracked by the monstrous wave of emotion, he shrank back from the window, afraid that he had no right to intrude on such a moment. But as harsh masculine moans came to his ears, he leaned back to the sill and saw his father still ramming fiercely into the girl, the muscles of his buttocks and thighs standing out from the exertion.

"I'm cumming… aah!" he gasped as his body drove on.

Gary saw the thick pole swelling and lurching in the girl's hungry vagina as his father began spewing hot sperm deep up into Wanda's hot slippery passage. Finally, with an empty groan, the man rolled from between the girl's thighs to lie exhausted beside her.

Gary was furious with frustration, as his own passion was so near its crest. Oblivious to the rules of propriety or dignity, he strained at the huge bulge between his legs, shucking himself. His body quivered and shook and he felt the hot warmth seep through his pants.

"Hey, do you hear something? Do you think anyone was watching us?" Gary heard the girl whisper inside the window. He heard the soft words as if from a great distance as his cum pumped out in sexual frenzy.

"Well, if someone was, they got a good show!" his father laughed. The bushes rustled quietly as the limp and shaken boy slipped away from the hiding place.

CHAPTER FOUR

Gary found some old rags in the garden shed back of the garage. He wiped himself as best he could, still seeing in his mind every detail of the incredible spectacle he had witnessed between his father and Wanda. It wasn't fair! His father had his mother to fuck. Why the hell did he have to fuck Wanda too? God damn it, the bastard had just committed adultery with his own sister-in-law. Didn't he know that?

Wanda was his own age. He should have been the one giving it to her. He trembled at the prospect. Oh Jesus! He had to find a way to do it. If she put out for his old man… then why not for him too?

He slumped down on the floor of the shed. A sudden thought hit him like a blow. He wiped the sweat from his forehead. Did his mother know? She couldn't. No, she was too trusting. It would never occur to her that his father was such an unmitigated bastard. What would she do if she found out? Would they get a divorce? Or would Wanda be kicked out of the house or what?

This was going to take some thinking. Wanda couldn't be, kicked out yet… not till he had a piece. She was his only hope. He was too shy to make it to first base with any of the girls at school. They were all balling the big football types anyway. There wasn't a chance for him. But, God damn, if he could get it into Wanda just once. Those dudes and their big talk. Hell there wasn't a girl in school who could measure up to Wanda. If he could get into her pants, nobody could ever laugh at him again. He'd be a man, by God! A real man!

On the other hand… Jesus. He didn't want his folks to split up. He knew kids who only had one parent. It made you feel shitty. They all said so. What was he going to do? What if his father and mother got a divorce and his father married Wanda? Christ, she'd be his step mother! Then he'd never have a chance at getting any. There had to be some, way out of this screwy mess. What the hell kind of girl was Wanda anyway, screwing her sister's husband who was old enough to be her father? A bitch, a first class horny bitch, that's what.

Hell and damnation! There'd never been such a mess! Gary put his head down on his bent knees. Think! He had to think of a way out. But nothing came and he sat huddled in the airless garden shed, miserable and confused and furious at the whole world.

Suddenly he heard his father start up the truck in the garage behind him. He was leaving now. He'd gotten his fill and was going back to work now. The greedy bastard!

Gary waited till he could no longer hear the truck's motor dying away down the street. He got up and stretched. His eyes checked the front of his jeans. Hell, they were wet with his cum. A big spot blotched the denim. There was only one thing to do. Sneak into the utility room and find a clean pair and throw these in the dirty clothes before his mother came home or Wanda saw him. God damn it! What a shitty day! Nothing was ever going to be the same again and Gary felt as he had as a little boy… that tears were going to come streaming down his face no matter what he did to try and stop them and the thought of that filled him with such fury that he ached.

Wanda showered luxuriously after Lester left. Drying herself in front of the big mirror in the bathroom, she posed, making faces, twisting a lock of her hair into a strand while looking up under her lashes the way the movie stars did when they wanted to look sexy, thrusting one naked thigh forward in the classic model's stance while her lower lip pouted provocatively. She threw back her head then and laughed at herself in the mirror. Old Lester sure fell for everything. He came home every day now when he knew Bette Jean was going to be out. The days she didn't go anywhere, he was so crabby he bit everybody's head off.

She helped herself to some of Bette Jean's good dusting powder and puffed it over her naked breasts, buttocks and belly. It wouldn't do her sister any good. Wasn't anybody to even smell it with Lester banished to Donnie's old room. She smoothed the powder all over her naked flesh until she was as smooth as silk. Old Lester would eat her up again if he were here to see. Wouldn't be long now till he'd do anything she told him to. He was as single minded as a dog after a bitch and as impossible to distract.

Pretty soon he was going to get tired of having to sneak home to lay her. He'd want her in his bed every night. Bette Jean was going to find herself replaced, the cold nag. She deserved it, too. Almost every day she made cracks about Wanda finding a job. If Lester was around he made her shut up about it. He knew that their little play parties would come to an end if Wanda went to work during the day and he wasn't about to let that happen.

Wanda whistled softly to herself as she carried the bundle of dirty clothes to the utility room. She felt clean and euphoric, well fed, well fucked and content. Clad in clean navy bell bottoms and a red sweater, she walked noiselessly over the carpet barefoot. Her breasts jiggled as she walked and the soft nylon sweater scraped her nipples taut with every step. Bette Jean had spoken to her privately about that too. It was indecent to go without a bra. Wanda had laughed and told her she was old fashioned. All the girls went without bras these days. Lester liked to look at her bounce around the house and after all he was the one she had to please, she thought smugly. Besides it drove that silly mama's boy, Gary, out of his gourd.

The whistle died on her lips when she opened the utility room door. Gary was standing at the dryer with his bare ass hanging out while he rummaged through a stack of clean clothes folded on the porcelain top. His shirt tail poled out a little in front of him where his young cock stood half hardened. The thighs and buttocks looked strong and young, the legs hairier than she would have imagined. Hell, he seemed like such a kid despite the fact he was only a year or so younger than she was… but maybe he wasn't that much of a kid after all.

His face flushed beet red as he turned away from her, clutching a towel to him and then trying frantically to wrap it around his naked buttocks. He looked pitiful and pathetic, as though he was about to bust out crying.

"Don't you ever knock when you come into a room! Get out of here! Can't you see I'm changing!"

"Well, where did you come from?"

"I got out early. Thought I'd change before I do my homework," he said harshly. He was still feverishly trying to hide himself and getting more hopelessly tangled up every minute.

Wanda looked him over from red face to sock feet. His mouth was working soundlessly like a fish out of water and he kept fumbling and hiding behind the wads of clothes he'd dragged over himself. She put her own bundle of clothes in the dirty clothes hamper and leaned against the washer, looking right into his face.

"You need some help, honey?" she said slowly, measuring every word.

His hands stopped fumbling and he stood terrified, his tongue coming out to wet his lips. "What… what kind of help…" he whispered desperately.

"What kind do you need? You look like you're in trouble of some kind. Maybe old Aunt Wanda could help you… s'pose?" Leaning on one elbow, her hip thrust out, Wanda slid her hand suggestively down over one hip and thigh. "You're the one's in trouble!" he burst out, dropping the clothes and grabbing her by the arms to pull her to him, tears of desperation standing in his eyes. He kissed her awkwardly, not knowing where to put his nose.

"Well… well!" she whispered. "Aren't we affectionate all of a sudden!"

Her mouth was still inches from his and her green eyes bored into him mockingly. Gary felt his naked cock jerk and he was shuddering as though he had a chill. He knew if he fumbled this now he may as well die! There might never be another chance… ever. His father would go on scaring him and being disappointed in him because he wasn't athletic, his mother would go on spoiling him and he'd wind up a virgin and a pain in the ass to everybody. He didn't know how he knew this… but he knew it more certainly than he'd ever known anything. He had to fuck this girl who was his aunt or he could give up forever right now! If he made one false move she'd laugh at him and he'd dissolve in tears. Gary felt as though he were being made to walk the plank and only death awaited him if he didn't do it and do it now!

"I wouldn't call it affection," he whispered, a little uncertainly, then boldly, "I want to fuck you!" She started to laugh, her head going back. In desperation Gary jerked her to him and held her in a vise-like grip, his mouth crushing down on hers furiously. He could feel his lips bruising against hers, the hard ridge of bone and teeth beneath the soft flesh. He heard her gasp as his mouth claimed her. Automatically her hands pushed a little against his chest and then miraculously came around his neck and she was kissing him back, her tongue darting into his mouth in quick little stabs. Gary clenched his eyes shut tight and gave himself up to the first real kiss he'd ever had. Jesus!

He probed her mouth boldly with his own tongue, pushing into the warm wet cave fiercely. She sucked it with relish and pressed herself into his aching cock. He could feel the big mounds of her breasts crushed against his chest, the nipples like sharp little buttons digging into him through his shirt. His hands found the rounded buttocks and squeezed hard. Oh shit! She wasn't wearing anything under the turtleneck and bell bottoms. Oh God! He was going to fuck her! He knew it! She was going to let him! Confidence roared through him with the pulse of his aching cock and the blood like hot lava beating and erupting through his veins.

Her hands slipped down his back to his naked buttocks and Gary felt her pull him even closer into her knit covered pelvis, the nails biting into his flesh in pricks of urgency. His cock felt like it was boring straight through the soft flesh of her belly to her backbone. Oh God damn! It felt good. His hand fumbled upward and found the softly resilient mound of her breast and he squeezed it hungrily. A soft mewling hum came from deep inside her mouth, an approving sound he could feel in his stabbing tongue.

"Ohhhhhh… God…" he groaned almost falling from the sheer exquisite sensation as her hand found his cock buried between them and clasped it warmly. Wanda leaned back a little and the wanton hand stroked it, skinning the foreskin expertly as Gary's hand snaked under the soft sweater to touch the naked fullness of her satiny-skinned breast.

"You like that, lover?" she crooned, the green eyes mocking him again.

"Christ, yes! Come on… don't stop."

"Let's go to your room," she whispered against his mouth.

They entered the bedroom and Gary ripped off his shirt, throwing it over one of the maple chairs near the dresser. Wanda undid the two buttons on the front of the bell bottoms and slowly, seductively, using her palms and undulating her body rhythmically, she slid the garment down, down along her body until it lay puddled at her feet. Her eyes were heavily lidded, smoky, and she watched his face as she undressed. She stood there, dressed now only in the red sweater. Tantalizingly, like an exotic dancer practicing her art expertly, she reached, pulling the sweater over her head slowly, making sure that the aroused, berry-sized nipples were the last to meet his hot, hungry eyes. She dropped the sweater on top of the discarded slacks and then raised her hands to cup the full, rich mounds, kneading them like a lover would. Finally, she dropped her fingers to her tapering legs as she stood before him completely naked.

"Like, lover?" she asked throatily.

"Christ, you're the most beautiful thing I ever saw!" Gary said. His eyes roamed over her well-tanned body, at the curly light pussy hair framing the wet, pink folds of her cunt. She was something else, all right! Jesus Christ, she was a Goddess!

Wanda reveled in his lustful gaze for a long moment, then she stepped over to his double bed and lay down on it, spreading her legs wide in a wantonly inviting position, exposing to his eyes the full, wet, palpitating opening of her cuntal passage. She rotated her hips lewdly on the spread, arching them up and lowering them again in a measured, intoxicating way. "Aren't you going to come here, lover?" she asked in a husky voice.

"Goddamn right I am!" Gary said.

He stood there with his great, trembling cock standing out from his groin, the unseeing eye in the glans oozing thin, clear droplets of aroused lubrications. Wanda stared at it, moistening her lips with her tongue as if tasting the seeping fluid already swirling around in the warm sucking caverns of her mouth.

"Come on," she urged. "Lie down beside Auntie," she laughed.

"And what are you going to do then?" he gasped.

"Auntie's going to take that big lovely cock of yours and suck every last little drop of hot cum right out of it," Wanda whispered up at him.

God damn! She really was a whore! She really knew how to get a guy heated up, talking that way, using words like she used her body, fucking you verbally if such a thing were possible. His penis quivered and throbbed in anticipation. He sat on the edge of the bed, next to her, his legs unable to support him. Gary felt her hand snake out and encircle his swollen cock begin to stroke and then to massage the turgid length, rubbing the skin back and forth. Then she slipped her hand underneath and cupped and caressed his balls, cradling their softness in her palm.

Gary couldn't stifle a small groan of pleasure. "First things first," he said.

"What do you mean, lover?"

"I want to fuck you."

"Oh, honey! We'll do that too, afterward."

She returned her hand to his penis and testicles, rubbing, caressing. "Please," she crooned. "I'm hot now, and I want to suck you. Come on, let Auntie suck you now and then you can fuck me."

He sat frozen, watching her undulate her hips, her tongue still flicking along her lips, her eyes resting hotly on the huge, granite-hard expanse of his penis at the wrinkled sac of his bloating balls.

Wanda began to breathe harder. She leaned against him, her hand busy. "I want that big fucking cock of yours twitching around up inside my stomach," she whispered close, and then her tongue darted out and began to explore his inner ear, hotly, wetly, maddeningly.

Gary felt a spasm of excitement course through him at the contact, felt his balls begin to ache throbbingly. She began to stroke it, gently, back, and forth with the palm of her hand as her tongue darted in and out of his ear, in and out, her hot breath blowing sweet against the lobe. His foot pressed harder into the carpet as his hands caressed the heavy petulant breasts and silken hips.

Jesus, Gary thought, I'm going to shoot my wad if she doesn't stop rubbing like that!

Her nails traced a delicious pattern along the underside of his cock, up and down, up and down, and her tongue assailed his ear madly now, as if she were fucking him there, about to climax. Then suddenly, her panting, wheezing breath and her tongue left his ear, and her head dipped down as she scooted her body lower. Her warm, saliva-moist lips came in contact with his penis, encircling the swollen head, and an electric shock ran through Gary's body. He almost lost control as a crazy sob tore out of his throat, but then he managed to swallow it as Wanda began a gentle sucking motion on his cock, taking it deep into her throat, those nails of hers maddeningly tickling his balls, tickling the base of his lewdly palpitating member, causing boiling sperm to build in his scrotum.

He turned then, one hand sliding up her back to push Wanda's head harder down against his loins, causing the entire length of his huge lust-engorged cock to slide up into her convoluting mouth.

"Not so fast!" he whispered urgently. "Jesus, not so fast; I'll pop my nuts!"

But his new aunt only increased her mouthing of his cock, letting her tongue ream the opening in the glans, tantalizing it voraciously with her flaming breath, running her nails faster along the underside of his wet, burning prick. Dimly, Gary felt his balls building. He wanted to push her head away, but all he could do was grind her mouth down harder on his organ, his fingers splayed on the back of her head.

It was really amazing, she thought as she played with the young boy's cock. There was simply no guilt left within her; she had not felt any remorse, any shame, since she had lost her virginity at twelve, in the back seat of a car. She had realized her total emancipation immediately afterward, had fully realized it then through subsequent experiences as often as she could give Aunt Dee and Uncle Alf the slip. It was as if the farm boys had purged her of all inhibitions, all guilt, purged her forever; it was as if she had been reborn, was a new and different creature from then on. She was a hedonist, a lover of pleasure, of the hardened male member, of sex in any form; there was nothing ugly or sinful or wrong in that, was there? No, of course not! How could there be anything wrong, with wonder and bliss and total ecstasy?

Suddenly, his hips jerked forward, and she could feel it slither up the full length of her mouth, depressing her tongue and filling her cheeks completely with its thickly pulsing hardness. Holding her face tightly between his palms, he began to fuck into her mouth brutally, causing her to choke and gag as he slammed it halfway down the narrow passage of her throat, almost its full length disappearing between her lipsticked lips. Struggling for breath, she gasped for air on the outstroke.

"Ooooooooh shit, suck it now, baby, suck it!" Wanda heard him groan above her. His words aroused her even more and she sucked hungrily as the spongy stiff shaft buried itself deep into the moist warm cavern of her mouth.

Tiny droplets of seminal fluid seeped from the narrow opening of the gland at the end, and the sharp pungent taste and odor caused her mouth to salivate and her nostrils to flare out in excitement. She closed her eyes to keep from choking as the great fleshy young cock plunged in and out of her oval-shaped lips. She sucked at the hotly pounding sex organ, aware of nothing in the world but this massive steely rod ramming down into her throat.

"Tighten your lips and suck it harder, baby," he hissed from above her, his voice husky and breathless with passion. As he spoke, Gary's hands pulled her head down harder on it, gagging Wanda as the throbbing cock-head hammered into the back of her mouth. As he watched his cock sliding in and out of the girl's lips, he felt as though he were finally getting vengeance for the years he had lived feeling like a second-class human in the company of the cocky guys at school. Now it was his turn to retaliate by fucking savagely into the mouth of this luscious, haughty bitch who had come into his house and seduced his father. He would take his full measure of revenge by satisfying his own prolonged lust. Trying to imagine spewing his hot load into that proud little mouth, he could feel a fiery lurching deep in his balls. He could not wait to see her struggling to swallow his hot, boiling sperm as he shot it deep into her throat.

The long column that filled Wanda's mouth began to swell, and she tried to increase the moist suctioning around it as the hard bulbous head rammed into her throat, expanding with each brutal thrust. She turned her eyes up to him in a silent plea, hoping the expression on her face would induce him to be less cruel as he battered into her face with rapid, savage lunges. But as he stared back down at her with a lewd, evil grin, she realized for the first time that he was punishing her, using her like a helpless puppet, a mere object on which to vent his lust. All that mattered though was the great shaft of flesh that pummeled faster and faster into her mouth. Saliva dribbled down from the corner of her lips, coating her chin and lower face.

The lust-crazed youth was watching her, his face contorted with animal passion. Holding the sides of her head in a vise-like grip, he forced her lips downward, even closer to the base of his cock, pushing the soft, tanned skin of her face into his sweat-soaked pubic hair. A thundering roar beat through his brain and he knew he could hold back no longer – it had to be soon now.

Pressing his fingers into her cheeks to make the warm moist cavern of her mouth even tighter, he crammed his pulsing distended shaft deep into her face and lunged his hips forward. His massive instrument throbbed and expanded in the channel between the softness of her tongue and the firm, slippery roof of her mouth as he speared into her with long, powerful strokes until it felt as though a thousand volts of electricity were shooting through his body.

He'd shoot his load of boiling cum deep into her throat and into her belly, and she'd be begging him for more…

Wanda slaved below, her body glistening with pustules of lust-sweat. The pressure grew and grew in Gary's balls, and he shoved his loins up hard against her face, hearing her protesting mumble, not heeding it in his desire for the final release of the maddening build up of semen in his scrotum.

And then…

And then, all at once, he felt the eruption take place, felt the first stream of white-hot fire leap along the passage of his plunging cock. He gasped, his lips pulling back across his teeth as though he were in agony. His cock began a sudden wild, convulsive jerking that flooded without advance warning Wanda's madly sucking mouth with rush after rush of burning semen, bloating her cheeks outward with each spurt until she was forced to swallow wildly to keep from choking. She was mewling and crooning and tickling his balls with the tips of her fingernails.

"Keep… sucking!" Gary cried. "Keep sucking, keep suckingggg!" His hands were working spasmodically in her hair now, ramming her head down harder on his burgeoning cock, burying it deep in her throat. And then, with one last mighty groan as his young aunt crazily sucked at the wildly jetting juices of his lust, he emptied the final drops of his sperm into her mouth.

Wanda continued to nibble gently at the fleshy instrument, milking every last drop of his load, until the satiated penis began to gradually deflate in her mouth. Gary flung himself on the bed in exhaustion, a great sigh of absolute fulfillment emitting from his lips. Wanda lay for a long moment between his outstretched legs, her head on his thigh, still nibbling gently at the limp cock settling down into the cradle of his balls. Finally, she crawled up and kissed him full on the mouth. He accepted her tongue hungrily as she thrust it into his mouth, even though droplets of his white sticky cum were drooling down in thin rivulets from the corners of her glistening lips.

"How did you like that, lover?" she whispered.

"Oh Jesus!" he panted.

She kissed him again, and then said, "Now," smiling down at him with her eyes sparkling hotly, "you may return the favor of my sucking you by fucking my pussy. Sound good?"

"Sounds Goddamned good!" He noted that his voice sounded deeper all of a sudden, assured and masculine and powerful. Shit! He felt powerful!

CHAPTER FIVE

The television was on in the darkened living room and Bette Jean lifted her eyes occasionally to stare at the brightly colored pictures and the characters moving through a contrived drama. The sound was all the way down so her headache wouldn't be aggravated. She didn't think she could stand one other thing tonight.

She shifted her feet on the big ottoman and sank still lower in the big chair, adjusting the jersey robe automatically. Even her skin seemed sensitive tonight and the contact of the thin nylon was even uncomfortable against her skin. Dr. Madson insisted it was nerves. She'd done what he told her… separate bedrooms, trying to take it easy, getting out more, taking her pills, but nothing helped. Nerves, of course, entered into it. Ever since Wanda had moved in, the symptoms had increased.

Thank God Lester had a meeting tonight and Wanda had gone to the movies. She couldn't stand another evening of Lester's grumpiness and Wanda's sassy ways. Why had she ever taken her in at all? From the first she'd had a premonition it wouldn't work out. She tried to close her eyes and relax but the problems kept spinning around inside her head.

Gary didn't think he could stand it. Jesus, that whore Wanda had seduced him all right and now she was out with his father and they were fucking someplace. He knew it. Jumping tip from his desk, he slammed his book closed. Hell, who could concentrate on homework?

He paced back and forth. Christ, he could see Wanda's opened thighs and his father's cock shoving into the warmly wet haven. Oh God, the whole damn frigging world was coming apart. Maybe his mother bought that bit about a meeting and the movies, but he sure as hell didn't. He knew better. They were off fucking their damn heads off. What was worse… he was green with envy.

He sat down heavily on the bed, holding his head that made all those lewd images that were driving him crazy. Who was he kidding? He was as guilty as his father. Screwed and been sucked by that tramp right here on this bed and he knew that if the opportunity arose again he probably wouldn't be able to resist. Right now he wanted to be in his father's place, slamming it to her for all he was worth. Guilty… guilty as hell. He could see the huge bulge in the front of his jeans as he sat dejectedly. A huge hard-on just from thinking about her. She was a female devil, that's what she was.

A gorgeous female devil who tempted men and then laughed at them when they surrendered. She was evil and corrupt and she was ruining everything. Christ! If this kept up she'd have his folks divorced and set herself up as his stepmother. No. No. No! He couldn't stand it if she was. Couldn't stand it if his mother was suddenly without a home. How would she make a living? She didn't know how to do anything but be a wife and mother.

Gary threw himself on the bed and buried his face in the spread. Poor Mom in there watching television now… too innocent to know what was going on in her own house. And, here he was with an enormous erection despite his horror of what might happen. Ever since the fucking session with Wanda, instead of being relieved as he thought he'd be… he wanted it more than ever. Jacked off almost constantly, couldn't keep his hands off his own cock for a minute. Oh shit! He was depraved and full of every kind of sin there was.

A cold shower. That ought to beat the meat down and take his mind off it some. Gary tore through to the bathroom and locked the door.

He stood shivering under the icy shower for long minutes. The chattering of his teeth wouldn't stop. Oh Christ! How did he ever get into this mess. Did every guy go through this torment over his first piece of tail? How could they? They didn't screw their own aunts… or watch their dads getting it from her too.

Wearily he shut the water off eventually and stepped out. His cock was still half hard and sensitive. Couldn't even dry it properly for fear of getting it up again. God damn it, he'd lose his mind if things didn't let up.

Bette Jean looked up to find Gary standing by her chair, his brown hair damp from a shower, the plaid bathrobe tied around him. His face was agonized and pale.

"What's wrong, darling?" She caught his hand solicitously.

"Mom? Can I talk to you a minute?"

"Why, of course, Gary." No matter how confused and ill she felt she could never turn Gary down when he needed her. The other children had all resented him, probably with reason. She had spoiled him. He was the last, the baby. It was impossible not to spoil him.

"Mom… I… I've done something terrible…" he whispered miserably.

"I can't imagine you're doing something so terrible, Gary. Tell me about it. It can't be all that bad." She puffed him down. He sat obediently at her feet, his handsome young face tortured. A wave of love for this youngest child swept over her.

"I don't know how to start. We've never talked much about… well… sex… before."

"Why, I thought your father talked to you last year. I asked him to. It's his job."

"No, I don't mean that. Dad talked to me. I mean… well… I'm almost grown, Mom. I get those feelings. I can't help it… honest… I've tried…"

Bette Jean stiffened. Her own son. The beginnings of the awful lust that Lester couldn't control. Oh God! It was unthinkable that her beautiful baby was growing into a rutting animal like his father. "Go on…" Dear heaven… how far had it gone?

"Don't look like that, Mom. Geez, I wouldn't hurt you on purpose… but I've really tried… I take cold showers… I keep busy… work out at the gym… nothing helps."

"I guess I had it pretty well under control till… well, I guess till Wanda came to live with us. I mean she's almost my age… and I kept thinking about her…" His voice died away to a whisper. He wished he'd never tried to tell her. His mother sat like a stone statue… her beautiful vulnerable face a mask. Hell, this was only going to make things worse. The thought of what Wanda was doing to her made him clench his fists. The knowledge that he'd betrayed his mother's trust too, was like a knife in his guts.

"Are you trying to tell me that you've… with Wanda?" The horror in her voice was unmistakable.

Gary felt the tears rush to his eyes and the hurt was closing his throat in a painful vise. Oh shit! Why did he ever start all this anyway? It was like he'd plunged that same knife right into his own mother.

He nodded, his head lowered and the sobs beginning to tear out of his chest that felt like it had a cement weight on it. "I couldn't help it, Mom. She's no good. I think… she would with… anybody… any guy… any age… Oh God, Mom… don't look at me like that!" His arms grasped his bent knees to make a haven for his flaming face that was soaked with the tears that flowed out of him. Christ! He'd ruined everything now… just because he'd been jealous of his father and Wanda… I'm no good… rotten!

Bette Jean involuntarily reached down to comfort her sobbing son. He was in pain too. The poor innocent lamb, seduced by her own sister… the sister she'd taken in. Oh God… there were no words for a woman who would do such a thing. The slut, the ungrateful bitch… coming into her home and contaminating an innocent boy with her breasts bouncing and her hips taunting. Oh God… there was no justice. The tears welled up and choked out of her, gritty and painful, the breath rasping in her throat. She patted Gary and held him close, leaning down and cradling his head against her knees. He was not to blame.

They sat for long minutes, entwined and sobbing out their mutual heartache. Bette Jean finally roused and wiped her eyes. The child would be sick if he didn't stop this crying. He was almost in hysterics, cursing and using foul language she'd never heard pass his lips before. So distraught he didn't even know what he was saying.

"It's all right, darling," she soothed. "We'll find a way out of this nightmare. I promise you, it will be all right. I'll get you something to quiet you. You'll be sick. Stay here… Let me help you to the couch."

Gary let himself be led, feeling weak and drained. If there was any decent way he could kill himself he would. Just cut out forever. Dimly he heard his mother in the kitchen. Oh God, he'd ruined her life too and he hadn't even told her yet about his father and Wanda. It would kill her. He may as well plunge a knife right into her.

"Here, darling." Bette Jean sat on the couch and handed Gary a glass. "Drink this… it'll burn… but it will help a little… I hope…" Helpless tears ran down her face again, silent and despairing.

"Wh-What is it?" He raised up a little.

"It's brandy. This is an emergency, darling… otherwise you know Mother would never give you alcohol at your age… drink it down. In this case, it's medicine." Bette Jean drank her own and felt the fiery liquid sear her throat and then spread in a warming glow through her stomach. This was the first time in her life she understood how someone could be driven to seek solutions in a bottle. Already she was beginning to feel better.

Gary drank, sputtering a little at first and then getting the hang of letting it slide down slowly. Jesus! His first drink. After the first few sips it tasted good, warm and comforting.

The television still glowed with brightly shifting images in brilliant color, a kaleidoscope of changing patterns. Gary could see it over his mother's shoulder. It made a kind of radiating halo behind her curly head. He didn't know how long they'd been drinking now but they were both feeling better. She still sat by him on the couch; he could feel the warmth of her thigh against his hip. They'd talked it all out… over and over. How Wanda was trying to break up their home, how cruel and unthinking his father was, but how terrible it would be to let their home and their family disintegrate. But, they were just not going to let that happen… no matter what. He'd never realized before how really great his mom could be. She was beautiful too, the soft colored light behind her, the thin jersey robe molding her breasts. The nipples were clearly visible under the clinging fabric…

"Don't you worry, baby… Mother won't let anything happen to us… s'a promise." Bette Jean patted Gary's hard young thigh reassuringly. There was a bulge under his robe that pressed against her arm as she did. His thing. Still hard just like when he was a baby. Every time she'd changed his diaper he'd always had a tiny erection, his little thing sticking up like a tiny flagpole. She felt a rush of love for this beautiful boy who was growing up now, the penis grown to man proportions. She felt it jerk and throb under her arm. What agony that Wanda must have put him through. She patted him again, her hand sliding and patting across his lap as she brought it up to steady her drink and drain it.

"Ohhhh, Mom…" he breathed. The blood was beating in his cock something fierce. God her hand felt good patting him like that. He knew she didn't mean anything by it but he wished she wouldn't stop. "You've been so good to me." He sat up dazedly, his head swimming a little and leaned over to kiss her soft cheek. She smelled like lemons and gardenias and brandy. Funny he'd never noticed before how soft her skin was, how beautiful and young she was.

Bette Jean felt Gary's kiss on her cheek. Such a sweet boy. So brave and never running around and leaving her like most boys did. His young lips were warm and full and kindled something deep inside her breasts. Her glass fell to the floor empty and made a little soft thud on the deep carpet.

Without thinking Bette Jean turned her head and kissed him back on those young lips. Such a good boy. He was going to be all right now. The brandy had calmed him down. Maybe they'd even had too much. Her head didn't ache anymore but things kept shifting out of focus. Suddenly she felt Gary's arms go around her, pulling her close to his hard young chest. She patted his shoulders and marveled at their strength.

Gary gathered his mother in his arms when she turned her head to be kissed on the mouth. A thrill shot through him as he felt her soft yielding body so close against him, the full breasts crushed against him. What a truly beautiful woman… warm and understanding and kind. Lucky… that's what he was… lucky. She wouldn't tease him the way Wanda would. She'd just love him the way she always had. He felt her shudder, her mouth trembling under his. Instinctively he kissed her harder, his lips bruising and demanding. God, it was good to hold her like this.

Bette Jean pulled away, the breath coming out in little pants. She had to get her breath. There were funny streaks of fire shooting through her breasts and her pussy was tightening and drawing inward. It felt so good, so right, so exciting. As she pulled back to look blearily into his eyes, Gary's hard young palm inadvertently caught her breast and the fires there flamed higher, warming her.

Gary felt the soft globe, hot and full in his palm. She was truly a beautiful woman. His fingers dug into the resilient firmly ripe flesh, covered with the thin silky fabric. The nipple was hard and erect, poking into his hand in a fiery little point.

"You're so beautiful… so good to me… Ohhh, Mom…"

Catching his hand with her own, Bette Jean pressed the young male hand closer on her beating breast. As a baby he'd patted and played with her breasts while he nursed, kneading and loving them. Ohh, it was so lovely. She longed to hold his head there again. Her last baby. There'd never be any more. Nursing had always been such a joy, particularly nursing Gary, who loved it so. Without thinking, transported by the memory of his baby head nestled there, Bette Jean pulled the offending robe from her breasts and caught his dark young head to her flesh, giving him the nipple in his strong young mouth. She dimly heard him gurgle as he took it and began to suck. The flames rose in her flesh like a raging forest fire, burning brighter and brighter.

Gary felt the nipple, hard and quivering against the roof of his mouth. He sucked deeply as though nourishment would come pouring out. Oh God! Some deep instinct guided his sucking, his lips and teeth making strong sucking action while his tongue laved the tiny sensitive nib.

Bette Jean rocked slightly, feeling the warm head nestled and the mouth sucking so intently and seriously. Then she felt his hands begin to knead and pinch her other breast, cupping and squeezing and pinching and nipple painfully, but unintentionally. The familiar drawing-in sensation began in her womb and then her whole pussy was convulsing rhythmically.

Ravenously Gary moved to the other breast, catching the nipple and drawing it out even further with his teeth. He heard a muffled cry choke from her throat. His hands were caressing the perfect white flesh naked and shivering, while his mouth drew out the heady nectar in deep sucking. She was shaking and rocking, clutching his mouth deeper and deeper into the fragrant female flesh. He wanted to devour the whole of the sensuously desirable femininity. His mouth nibbled upward to the white column of her throat while his hands cajoled the naked spheres until he reached her mouth and his tongue shot into the warmly wet cavern. He could almost feel the moist grotto surrounding his cock as he tongue fucked greedily into her mouth. For a moment the shifting lights in his head cleared, the swimming ceased and he jerked away in horror. Christ all mighty… he was kissing his own mother like she was a girl… a girl he wanted to fuck. His cock was rigid and quaking, seeping eagerly against his skin under his robe! Oh God… what was happening to him?

"Ohhhhhh… Gary… baby…" he heard his mother sigh as she slipped limply down beside him on the couch, unheeding that her robe was off her shoulders now, her breasts and upper body naked against him. She pressed closer, her hand sliding over him in tender caresses, coming to rest against the poling bulge of his robe covered penis that strutted up wildly, at the touch of her hand. She was drunk… crazy insane drunk… they both were. They must be. His own mother putting his mouth on her naked breast, kissing him. Oh Jesus! It was wrong, horribly, hideously wrong… but it felt so… ooooohhhhh God damn!

"Oh… Mom… Oh God… I didn't mean… Oh, I can't help it… this is killing me… help me… my cock… it's on fire… help me… I want to fuck you… got to fuck you or I'll die…"

"Shhhh… it's all right, darling… Mother'll help you… poor baby… poor little baby…" Her tongue felt thick and too large in her mouth. Something was wrong with her breathing and she felt hot and stifled. She fumbled and found the sash that held the robe around her waist. There… better to get that hot thing off. She turned back to cuddle Gary. He was feverish and hot too. Her hands slid under the flannel robe and pulled it away. She found the cause of his misery… die, he said… well, no wonder… his penis was so swollen and hard and pulsing. He said had to fuck. But that's what Lester does. Hurts me. Makes my head ache. Poor, poor baby. She could hear him groaning and carrying on. Feverish and hot and hurting… Her hands soothed the risen stalk of his young manhood, all corded and jerking with need… Well, Mother would kiss it and make it well again. There… and there… and there… be better in no time, sweetheart…

"Aaaagggghhhhh… oooohhhhh, Jesus Godddd… ohhhhh… oooo… Mommmmmmm… suck ittttttttt…!"

The mouth was working obediently to suck out his very guts through his aching cock. Whimpering and gurgling deep in his chest at the incredible contact of her soft mouth licking and sucking upward on his raging penis, his hands found the curly head and pushed the wetly warm pocket of hollowed mouth down even further. His hips jerked upward to force it down the wonderful darkly sensuous cavern, the tunnel of heavenly delight. He was coming apart at the seams. His hands slid down the smooth white back and then under to find the dangling round breasts, firm and giving. Oh God damn!!!!!! Nothing had ever felt so good in the whole fucking universe!

Bette Jean could feel the demanding rigidity almost to her tonsils. Every little vein that bulged out she licked and soothed with her tongue going round and round the pulsing quivering length. There was a strange thick slippery fluid that was heady and sweet… pungent and spicy. Instinctively the hardened tip of her tongue found the tiny opening in the head and bored into it as far as possible. The young loins responded and shoved upward. Her hands found the bloated balls that threatened to split the scrotum and cradled them lovingly. So heavy and full. Oh, if only her head wouldn't swim so… leaving her and then swarming back making everything sway and jump. Must be the brandy. One leg was cramped and ached. Holding the base of the great thing in her hand she wriggled around till she could get to it better and ease her leg over his body. That was much better. She closed her eyes and let her mouth slide slowly down over the velvety smooth skin that was so hard and solid underneath, full of cords and wires and ridges. She sucked it hard with great smacking noises.

"Jesussssss… Goddddddamnnnnnnn…" Gary moaned as his hands found the rounded moons of her smooth buttocks over his chest. He lifted his head and looked. Oh God damn it to hell! The tight clasping opening of her pale coral pussy was exposed, soft downy hair ringing the fist shaped mouth. There was the crinkled clenching little flower of her anus. Hell!

Exerting a steady pressure on the inside of her white tapering thighs with his hands, he pressured her legs wider apart and lifted his head into the softness of her loins, extended his tongue and found the tightly moist opening to her budding pussy. He flicked his lingual member through his teeth and plunged the tip of it into her flagrantly ready cuntal portal, tasting the pungent flavor of her, the sparse down ringing her pussy tickling his cheeks as he thrust, then, deeply into her. The shock of it went through her like a lightning bolt. She quivered in response, her buttocks undulant as she moved her searing pelvis down to him, almost in supplication… begging him for more.

As she gasped aloud, her mouth gaped open and her head jerked up, uncontrollably; at that instant, the very tip of his blood-engorged penis brushed her chin. Unconsciously, she opened her mouth slightly to capture it and to feel it press against her teeth. Ovaling her lips she absorbed just the head, tasting its maleness, nippy and pungent, and ran her tongue around the smooth, rubbery glans, aware of the warm throb of it inside her mouth and against her lips. She was so enthralled… involved with the lewd sensations being generated down between her wide-held legs that she was not fully aware any more. It seemed, somehow, natural and right… and she savored the aroma and the pungency of its delicate flavor on her palate.

Instinctively, almost hypnotically her hands went down to him, the one to grasp the young, long and hardened shaft, the other to caress the testicles that hung down in their soft sac behind it.

Then, she heard his voice, coming to her from miles away, it seemed. "Keep sucking… damn it! Keep sucking!"

The head of his thing was in her mouth! Dear God! I've got his… h-his thing in m-my mouth… and I-I didn't know it! And I-I'm liking it… l-liking the taste of it! It's so big… and warm… and kind of s-smooth… a-and it's beginning to… f-feel good… in my m-mouth… like I w-want to keep it… there! Like I really do want… t-to suck it! Oh, God! I d-do! I want to… s-suck his… c-cock! That's the right word: c-Cock! I want t-to… Oh, I want to suck his cock… u-until he squirts out his… s-sperm!

… And, she knew then, knew it without a doubt, that she wanted to grasp this experience, make it her own, for she knew it was what he needed… what she needed… yet she couldn't imagine… doing it with the father of the boy whose cock she, herself, had in her mouth, but she knew it was good… it was the counterpart, the missing part of everything.

Again, she ran her tongue-tip over the pulsing young penis head in her mouth, swirling it around and around, feeling the velvet-smooth skin of it. Then, she began to push the tip of her lingual shaft into the tiny orifice, again probing, tantalizingly, and she was rewarded by a deep-throated moan from the boy under her. He shoved his pelvis up at her, filling her mouth and throat with his lust-hardened flesh; at the same time he took her quiveringly aroused clitoral bud into his mouth and nipped it gently with his teeth.

The shock of his rock-hard cock going deeper into her throat had almost made her gag, but the shock to her sensitive clitoris offset it. The electric contact of his tongue, now as he licked the sensate head of her miniature phallus while he held it gently between his teeth was almost all she needed to send her to the brink of ecstasy the alcohol had made possible.

In blissful delirium, she fought back the initial gagging sensation and began to hollow her lips in a teasing little sucking motion, while she used her tongue, excitedly, licking up and down the sensitive under side of the huge, throbbing prick she had absorbed, now, to its fullest length into her mouth. Then, as his hips began to flex, moving his cock in and out of her oral cavern, she knew, it seemed, instinctively, what she was expected to do. Her mouth was a substitute for her cunt. It could give a man as much satisfaction as the mouth between her legs… maybe more! The thought of Lester with Wanda… legs widespread, with his huge cock working in the obscene flesh of her sister's cunt, flashed through her mind, followed, instantly by the vision of Gary being seduced by the slut. Together, they added up to total depravity and total pleasure! Lester had set the example. The wife would follow!

Rolling her lips in to cover her teeth, she began moving her head, in opposition to him, sliding her ovaled, suctioning lips up and down the rigid, pulsing pole of his cock, knowing somehow that it would give him exquisite pleasure. She was not wrong! She heard him gasp aloud. "Oh, Christ! That feels good! Keep it up… Mom! Keep sucking on it… baby!"

Gary had never experienced anything like this in his life! Christ! First Wanda and then… this… This was out of this world! Out of sight! His mother was sucking him like she had done it all her life! It must be instinct! The best thing in the world was his own mother!

Bette Jean just couldn't believe it; the combined thrills that coursed through her of sucking and being sucked was simply enchanting… rapturously so! The lewdly erotic sensations in her mouth and throat amazed her… and the way Gary was licking and sucking at her clitoris, made her feel that this moment of her life was the most fulfilling she had ever known!

Warm summer rainstorm accompanied by glittering shafts of lightening hovered over her loins where the boy-man's tongue slaved, laving, sucking and licking her, bringing her by ascending degrees almost to the pinnacle of ecstasy. She knew that she was ready, now… ready for the storm to break, bringing with it the welcome gushing waters of relief… to wash over her with a downpour of pure rapture.

His pelvic movements, driving his cock into her mouth became longer, more frantic; she moved with him while the hardened flesh of him ground in and out of her mouth. She instinctively, kept her teeth covered with her rolled-in lips, keeping a constant squeezing pressure around the giant shaft as it sawed in and out. When she had taken him into her mouth, she hadn't known she would suck him to climax, but suddenly, she wondered whether he would shoot his sperm directly into her mouth.

She didn't know; then, she realized that it would be impossible to avoid it! He would squirt his cum into her mouth… and she would have to swallow it! Could she do it? Dear God! And then, there was no time to think. The thunder shower of her passion broke inside of her with brilliant, flashing lightning blinding her eyes, the thunder of her racing blood in her ears, the busy raspiness of her breath in her lungs… and she came, moaning out her ecstasy around the length of the racing cock in her mouth. "OOOOOooooooh! I'm cummminnnnnngggg! AAAAAaaaaaaauuuuuuugggghhhhh!"

Her body convulsed, as waves of welcomed release rushed over her. Oh, God! It's wonderful! It feels absolutely heavenly!

Gary knew he was going to cum, in a moment. He could feel the breaking tide of his semen, straining to break down the restraint of tumescent flesh, and he wondered if he should tell her… prepare her for the spewing flood of sperm from his aching, throbbing cock. Then, he felt the sudden convulsions of her body. He grasped her flexing, white buttocks, pulling their rounded flesh down tight to his face as he placed his lips directly over her voraciously throbbing cuntal mouth, suctioning her strongly with his lips, while his own hips flicked his expanding member in and out of her mouth with merciless abandon. Suddenly, it was there! He came!

His young swollen cock burst in her mouth, all its youth jetting streams of his white, hot semen into her throat that made her gasp and choke, forcing her to swallow it as fast as it streamed up into her mouth. With one final plunge, he rammed his long, hard cock to the hilt in her mouth, his hairy balls coming against her nose, almost suffocating her. She reached down then to his buttocks and pushed him down until only the bulbous, jerking head of his cock remained in her mouth. She had found the taste of him flavorful, and she sucked and licked, swallowing all of his sperm until the throbbing pump of his cock was stilled and there was no more of the viscous liquid left. And in this final act she felt a kinship with her sister, with Gary's father. The delicious ecstasy of oral sex was hers! In that instant, she understood her husband better.

Their bodies subsided from climax, Gary's penis becoming flaccid in her mouth. He pulled her around beside him.

She lay on her side, now, looking up at her son blearily. He was tall and spare, not yet filled out, but his sinewy strength was there. Yes! He was a man… a boy-man, but he had satisfied her completely. She sighed and slept, mouth open in the noisy snore of drunkenness.

CHAPTER SIX

It took her several trips to transfer Lester's clothes back into their bedroom but Bette Jean worked feverishly. Everything had to be in order, put away in its proper place before time to start dinner.

She'd never known such a nightmare in her whole life as she'd lived through today. For the first time in their married life she'd lain in bed and let her husband make his own breakfast. The moment her eyes had opened this morning the horror of last night had hit like a hammer striking her right between the eyes. Drunken and weakened, she'd committed the unforgivable… an act so horrible that it had been forbidden by every savage tribe as well as by all the civilizations since man began. With her own son!!!!! It was monstrous, evil and so hideous that she finally went into the bathroom and retched, great dry sobbing heaves wrenching her belly, as the full memory came back to her.

Lester had poked his head in the door as she'd shakily climbed back into bed. "What's the matter? Got the flu? I gotta get to work. Where's breakfast?"

She shook her head weakly. "I can't, Lester. I… I feel awful."

"You're pretty white. Been throwing up?"

Her eyes fluttered closed as she nodded her head.

"Well… stay in bed. I'll get some coffee and toast."

"Get Wanda to make…" but he was gone then. Gratefully she sank back. She couldn't face Lester. She couldn't face anyone again. Couldn't even call Dr. Madson. How did you tell your doctor you were ill with guilt… the most terrifying guilt the world had ever known… It was no use… the word wouldn't even pronounce inside her own skull. Her Gary… a modern teen age Oedipus… doomed by copulating with his own mother. She burrowed down in the covers, flinging herself over on her stomach to bury her face and head with pillows to smother the moving playing screen in her head that brought it all back in moving color.

Somehow the day had worn on. All the tears had been cried. All the filthy epithets had been hurled at herself… all the nightmare played out over and over until she remembered every grisly detail and remembered how it came about. The worst thing to bear had been the sure knowledge that she had reveled in it. That filthy perverted act with her own boy. She'd loved it… some unknown secret part of herself had relished and loved every depraved minute of it. The waves of pleasure had roared through her body like a tidal flood. And it had been her son who had taken her to such heights… her son! For the first time in her life she'd known why Lester had nagged her so tiresomely about sex all the time. This was what he felt… or very like it… and he'd felt it over and over and over. But it had been the first time in her life she had ever truly enjoyed and attained this particular incredible peak of passion and lust. And it had to be at the hands of her own son. It was unthinkable that he had turned her on to bodily pleasure and not Lester, her husband!

Finally, after all the solutions had been proposed and discarded in her mind, she'd resolved that the only penance she could make that might expiate the terrible transgression, would be to live out the rest of her life in the same room with Lester. Try to be a good wife to him. Try to make it up… and never let Gary know what she hoped his youth might help him forget. As soon as she could she'd send Gary away… to boarding school or military school… anywhere where she wouldn't have to see him and be reminded… where he might forget… think it was a nightmare, unreal and therefore without influence.

As Bette Jean hung Lester's sport coat in the closet in their bedroom she could almost feel the strong arms pinning her down. The empty sleeves reminded her just how big a man he was, how demanding, how brutal. Well no matter how brutal he was now, she deserved worse. He couldn't punish her enough.

Wanda would have to go. She couldn't be allowed to disrupt this household any more. Since she had come their whole world had turned inside out. Somehow, some way… get rid of her. Then, perhaps, there might be a way she could straighten out the terrible mess.

Dinner was very silent, the tensions so thick they hung palpable in the air, smothering their desultory attempts at small talk. Lester wolfed his food silently. Wanda kept a mocking smile on her face. Gary looked wounded and ill. Bette Jean wondered if her own face showed such illness.

For the fourth time that day, Bette Jean bathed her body that she'd come to think of as a traitor, the villainous traitor of herself. It was as if the constant bathing might speed the forgetfulness and absolution she needed so desperately. The sheets felt cool and icy against her naked skin. Lester would be coming to bed and he hated nightgowns. She would submit to whatever he wanted, willingly. He'd looked startled and displeased when she'd whispered to him that his things were back in their room… that she didn't want separate bedrooms anymore… in fact, he'd looked almost guilty. But his guilt, whatever it might be, could not compare with hers. She waited almost eagerly, the cold sheet hardening her nipples.

The neighborhood noises had stopped altogether and a pervading stillness enclosed the house. She lay rigid, naked and still, a small lamp making a pool of light to guide Lester to bed. Her eyes were open and staring, waiting. Time had no meaning now. It could have been minutes or days that she lay like a statue awaiting expiation or execution. It did not seem to matter which.

Slowly the knob of the door turned and she looked up to see Lester tiptoe quietly in. He saw her staring and silent. She watched as he turned his back and began to undress, hanging his clothes neatly in the closet.

"Feel any better?"

"Yes… I'm fine now." She heard a shoe drop with a muffled thud onto the carpet. "Lester…? I'll be a good wife to you from now on… forgive me… for being… the way I was…" She couldn't keep the note of hysteria from her voice and she saw that he reacted to it, turning to look at her curiously. He sat on the other side of the bed, his back to her while he removed the other shoe and sock. The muscles in his naked back were strong and she watched them move smoothly, marveling at their effortless working.

"Maybe you ought to go see that doctor. You looked awful peaked today."

"No… I told you… I'll be… a good wife now… you'll see… just… please… let me try!!!" Her voice rose shrilly as she flung the covers back to reveal her nakedness. Lester turned his head and she could see his amazement and then confusion and then something else… a rising passion and deep seated contempt.

"I didn't put on a nightgown…" she offered inanely as she spread her legs in silent invitation. Her eyes were on his, locked in silent stalemate.

Lester looked at her, spread out like a damned sacrifice for him. Jesus Christ! What the hell had happened to her? She looked wild eyed and hysterical. God knows he didn't want to move back in here now. Shit! Wanda was available any time, any way he wanted her. He'd begun to like the arrangement. Had Bette Jean somehow found out? Was she making the big sacrifice to save her "happy home"? He felt the anger rise in him in a fiery streak but it was tempered with a stiffing in his loins despite himself. Jesus, but she was a delectable woman. He could see the sleek white thighs open to him, the sparsely haired triangle between them that ovaled around the warmly pink cuntal mouth. There was a faint gleam of moisture on the pussy lips as though they'd been licked with a tongue. He watched in amazement as her hands slid up her satiny sides and cupped the full blown snowy breasts in offering.

His cock jerked involuntarily, fired by his balls that had begun to churn and steam. God damned crazy woman! How long he'd dreamed of her offering herself to him willingly and now that she had, he felt guilty as hell. Bette Jean's fingers thumbed her own breasts until the nipples were fire red points of rigidly erect yearning. A tiny whimper came out her mouth… a plea she couldn't voice.

"All right, you frigid bitch, you want to make the big sacrifice, you want to fuck, by God you're going to get fucked till it comes out the back of your throat!"

His tender solicitousness of moments before seemed to have completely faded, and though Bette Jean did not understand what had caused the sudden anger in his face, she could not help but react to the abrupt change in his attitude. The cruel, masterful tone of her husband's voice sent tremors of excitement up and down her spine, and she felt a strange masochistic thrill of pleasure as she tried to imagine what he would do.

Lester held himself back for a short time, purposely torturing both of them in expectation. He'd fuck her all right. He would shove his long thick cock between the full white moons of her proud little white ass. He wanted nothing in the world more than to see her uncontrollably wriggling before the attack of his throbbing cock as it plunged deep into her inviolate little asshole, completing his conquest of the arrogant bitch. Though he had to admit he had felt an unexpected tenderness toward her earlier, her casual assumption that he wanted nothing more than to fuck her any time she wanted him had filled him with anger. Now, they would see who held the power in this situation, he thought. He would laugh out loud when she suddenly turned complete animal and lost all control over herself, ignoring everything but her over-powering need to be fucked in a way that would repulse and disgust her. The sadistic idea ran through his loins like wildfire.

Bette Jean was lying back on the bed, her mouth lolling open in a daze of anticipation when Lester lowered his dark head over her smooth ivory belly. His darting tongue flicked teasingly into her navel, then traced a path down the soft flat skin until his face was a few scant inches from the wispy tendrils of pubic hair that bordered the tender sensitive ridges of her pussy.

She could feel his moist warm breath beating down on the naked hair-lined flanges of her cunt as his fingers gently pressed apart the soft folds, exposing her hardening clitoris to the cool air and bringing it to thrusting erection. A slight moisture glistened on the outer lips as he pulled the soft pink cleft completely open. Suddenly, his long dripping wet tongue snaked forward, burying itself in the exposed slit with a wet, sucking sound.

Bette Jean was amazed at her own reaction to the maddening assault of his tongue and fingers. She felt as though she had changed into some kind of wild animal, driven by a powerful instinct to accept and need his lascivious ministrations. Yesterday, she might have been repulsed by the strange, lewd sensations that pounded through her body and mind, but now she wanted more, as much as she could possibly stand. Tangling her fingers in his black hair, she strained his face tighter to her crotch and swiveled her pelvis in pulsating rhythm with the warm, wet spear that probed into her wide-split cunt. She felt a primitive need pounding through her as her mind erupted with new, alien, wanton thoughts.

Her vaginal passage contracted, opening and closing tightly around the long smooth lance of flesh worming deep inside her. Her muscles strained, the cords of her thighs standing out tautly as she ground her back down into the mattress and heaved her pelvis up against the sudden curling and flicking of his tongue up inside her cunt. Fighting the iron-like grip she held on his head, the boiler maker began to work his thick, drooling lips over the whole area of her upturned pelvis, sucking and licking crazily from the swollen pea-like nodule of her clitoris to the tight puckered hole of her anus. Then, his pointed tongue slowly rounded the tightly constricted opening and probed gently at the light brown puckered flesh.

"Noooo, not there," she moaned breathlessly as awareness of his depraved assault filtered through her daze of wild, abandoned sexuality. This was not the normal, healthy eroticism she had finally accepted as something she needed and wanted, but an unnatural defilement of her body.

Lester rasped harshly. "On your knees with your ass high and shoved back here!"

Dear… dear God! What did he mean? Why…? She was going to be a good wife to him… she'd told him so. What was he trying to do…? She thought these things as she assumed the instructed position, ashamed now as she nakedly spread her knees and opened herself to him.

"You want to be a good wife to me… at least you said so. Is that true, baby?"

"Y-Yes."

"Well you're going to prove it, bitch!"

"Lester… darling, I want it to be whatever you want!" Bette Jean said, holding her position, but looking back toward him. "I don't care about… anything else…"

"Right now, baby, you don't know what you care about! Tomorrow, you'll wake up with a different head! And I don't want any fucking frigid hypochondriac for a wife, either… I want a woman! You ready for that?"

"Y-Y-Yes… yes… honest, darling, I'm ready…!"

"Good. Then, you won't have too much trouble with the test! Baby… I'm going to fuck your asshole… sodomize you to seal and forever enjoin our love! If you want out, get up and run… and I promise you, I'll walk out of here!"

"And I'm not going to do it until you tell me to, baby!" Lester said suddenly. "You're going to make the decision… whether you want to give yourself to me all the way or not! This fucking night has been too much for me already! If you want it in your ass, say so, because that will be our true marriage! Forever, baby! Forever… now… decide… right now!"

"All right!" Bette Jean exclaimed. "Please, darling, do it! Fuck me there… in my ass! I want you more than anything in the whole world! More than anything in the whole world! Now, marry me with your cock in my ass! Now! Now! Please… hurry… hurry!" She could hardly wait for the cleansing punishment to begin.

Lester felt a surge of new blood racing toward the throbbing head of his extended shaft. He half-grinned as he kneed himself up between her widespread thighs and open buttocks. He could see her moist cunt, but it was the small puckered dark hole between her luscious ass-cheeks that held his attention. He felt a hard vengeance in his gut as he positioned himself behind her, then, gently dipping his finger between the hair-fringed lips of her moist cunt, he watched her hips and buttocks jerk from the erotic intrusion.

Lester smeared the viscid lubricant over the crinkled, tight little hole of her rectum. He did it several times before suddenly grasping and dipping the head of his pulsing cock between her dewy vaginal lips, then, nuzzled it tightly up against her stretched anus.

Bette Jean heard him make a partial laugh… a salacious little sound she thought frightenedly, clenching her hands into fists and closing her eyes tightly. I love him! I want him! I've denied myself for the last day or night of my life! This is the way to happiness… and I'll suffer to get it… to prove my love to him! To wipe out the terrible thing I've done!

Then, without benefit of mercy, it seemed to her, he thrust forward and she felt an agonizing pop and stretching of her rectal mouth. Her breath wadded in her throat as a vicious spasm of pain ripped through her as she twisted and half-screamed, and she waggled her bottom to get free of the wickedly torturous cock reaming into her back passage!

Oh, God… dear God! She'd sorely misjudged the size and capacity of her rectum! He was going to split her wide open back there, she realized in sudden horror, her rounded, white buttocks beginning to thrash insanely. She heard him laugh again and felt his strong hands gouging into the tender flesh of her hips. God! He was holding her vise-like, and her every attempted move only served to drive his huge rod of solid flesh deeper and deeper inside her cringing passage.

"Push back! Damnit, shove that beautiful ass back onto it!" Lester commanded, grasping at her tensed, upper thighs and straining his narrow hips forward obscenely. "It's too late to run now, baby! You've made your choice… so grin and bear it!"

"Oh… oh, God!" Bette Jean choked, unable to restrain neither the tears of agony nor the guttural moans of shame that were abruptly sweeping over her. It was more than a debasing humiliation of the perverse sodomizing he was subjecting her to… that she needed… but, God in heaven… could she stand it…?

He's ripped me all open back there! Oh… ooohhh, it's tearing my rectum apart. Ooohhh… God… God… I… I don't care! He's… he's punishing me… oh, how he's punishing me. Yes… yes I want him to… I do, I do! Right… right up my ass, lover… ohhh punish me, darling, punish… me…!

Bette Jean hunched back determinedly as he thrust forward and she felt the excruciating torment of his thick throbbing shaft surging into her, pushing the rubbery, persistent flesh before it, until at last, with one final buttock-flattening lunge he ground it all the way up inside the warm, constricting depths of her salaciously stretched rectum!

At last! At last! Her brain reeled in strange masochistic torment. Then she felt his strong, hairy pelvis smack solidly into the softness between her lewdly upturned buttocks, his balls swinging hard down against the spread lips of her pussy below. She was impaled to the hilt, and afraid to breathe with the unbelievable, racking pressure that felt as if her thighs were splitting apart…!

"Aaaagggggghhhhh!" she screamed, her face contorted from agony and shame. "Oh my God!" She tried to twist her head back and stop his depraved assault on her defenseless, virginal rectum.

Oh God, it's so big… But it's in… it's inside me! Like a huge baseball bat tearing my backsides asunder… Oh dear God… I don't care… I don't care… This is my punishment… yes, yes… the punishment I deserve… I want you, oh mighty cock… all the way up my asshole!

Lester grinned insanely down at his cock stuck in the end of his wife. He moaned as he locked his sight on the hardened rod which disappeared in the wide-stretched oval opening between the white, now quivering mounds. He jerked slightly, Bette Jean screaming in torment again as his penis slid into the tender brown flesh. When he was still, the anus drew out slightly, puckering around his impaling cock. His penis was so hard he thought it would shatter! His balls felt like cement blocks had been tied to them! They throbbed with unbelievable aching. Some men wait a lifetime for such a fuck! It was hardly possible for him to believe that his woman, was subjugating herself like a bitch in heat to him.

She jumped forward in unbelieving horror at the excruciating pain, feeling as though a red hot poker had been driven into her narrowest opening. As she trembled under the vicious assault, mustering all her courage to bear the agony until she was thoroughly punished, he rotated his cock deeper and deeper, expanding the tight, contracting asshole. He suddenly plunged, forcing a piteous squeal from Bette Jean's throat as she ground her face into the pillow. But, Lester persisted, screwing into the deep, rubbery channel, savagely drilling in and out of her warm velvety passage.

She could not even accept the monstrosity of what was happening to her, much less the awareness that the pain was slowly fading and she was beginning to desire this obscene depravity. Her dread gradually vanished, however, as his other hand sensuously nipped at her tiny, throbbing clitoris, and she felt unwanted waves of pleasure surging through her. Her mouth opened, and she began to pant and mewl crazily as his cock worked around and around deep in her wide-stretched rectum. Bette Jean squirmed beneath his cruel probes in total surrender and finally whimpered: "Please, fuck me there! Fuck me in the ass!"

Smiling evilly, Lester pulled his cock out of his wife's writhing buttocks, watching gleefully as the moist skin clung to it until it popped out with a wet sucking noise. Once again, he pried the soft cheeks of her buttocks far apart and licked at the tiny quivering hole until she thought she was going out of her mind with the teasing tantalization.

"Oh God, fuck it! Fuck it now!" she suddenly screamed in maniacal passion. "Quick, quick, screw my ass or I'll die!"

Lester smiled complacently. She was at his mercy and he meant to take advantage of her subjugation, making her pay for every insult he had ever had to accept from her. His eyes roamed triumphantly over her tortured face as she stared over her shoulder, back at him, wild-eyed with lust. He felt her reach back under her body and hungrily stroke at the hairy testicles that dangled between his thighs.

"Put it in your asshole, again bitch," he ordered harshly.

Her trembling hands obediently clasped the rock-hard shaft and a sudden expression of terror flashed through her eyes as she remembered the enormity of the throbbing instrument she felt in her fingers. Succumbing to the fear she suddenly felt, Bette Jean tried to cram the huge member in her soaking vaginal lips, working the smooth bulbous head back and forth in her cuntal juices to ease the entry.

"Your asshole, bitch!" he snarlingly repeated.

She acquiesced to the cold command, tremulously positioning the massive tip against her tight hairless opening. She could feel his thumbs pressing outward at the half-moons of her buttocks, pulling them wider and wider apart, until the head of his hungry cock pushed against the cringing mouth of her back passage. She knew it was hopeless to resist as the hardened head stabbed painfully against her anus, and she cringed in unbearable pain as the blood-engorged tip suddenly popped through her slightly-resisting sphincter muscle. Her face contorted in the agony of the ravishment, and she desperately tried to pull away.

"Shove back, damn you! Shove back!" he bellowed.

In automatic obedience to the loud command, she hunched back, feeling him push with all his strength to overcome again the natural resistance of her narrow opening. The weight of his powerful body pushed down on her with pulverizing strength, lambasting mercilessly at the rubbery flesh.

"Oh, God, you're killing me! It's too big!"

Lester grinned insanely as she uttered the hysterical plea, feasting his eyes on the sight of her white, full-rounded ass impaled on his huge cock. He heard her scream in torment as he forced yet another inch of his penis into the wide-stretched oval opening between the quivering mounds; the white throbbing shaft disappearing into that gyrating ass. Her beautiful face was flushed – the color of strawberries – and her eyes rolled around in her head. She began mewling little inarticulate sounds of lust.

He drew his cock out to the point where only the head was lodged inside, then pushed gently but firmly in all the way. The long, long stroke drove her insane. She whined and jiggled as though she were a friendly puppy wagging its tail. He did it again, and again, and again, speeding up his tempo now.

She was panting so loudly that it was almost impossible to make sense of her words, but the meaning did reach him, "Harder, faster. Fuck harder. Fuck faster," she groaned with mouth open – making silent screams.

Bette Jean no longer felt human as the mercilessly driving cock tore into her rectum, pushing against the bottom of her belly inside like a monstrous pestle jammed into a tiny mortar. Turning her head back again, she saw Lester grinning victoriously just as he thrust his penis heavily downward. With a loud smacking noise, his hips banged against the softness of her twin buttocks and the torturing instrument was buried to the hilt again in her ravaged anus. She was hopelessly impaled, like a pig on a spit. Tears of pain and humiliation ran down her cheeks in tiny glistening rivulets as he gasped in diabolical delight, and began to piston in and out of her tight-stretched passage with the power of his sadistic impulses spurring him on. He rammed into her with cruelly hard thrusts, his great swinging balls buffeting against her tightly straining cunt, and unexpectedly, she found herself becoming accustomed to the presence of the tremendously huge cock boring into her.

As the pain suddenly seemed strangely pleasant to her, she ground back to meet the forward thrust of his cock, undulating her body and swinging her hips in tiny rotating circles. She gyrated, lowering her hips to pull the lust-hardened prick out of her quivering rectum, then driving back to bury it deeply within her burning channel, the blunt intrusion firing every fiber of her being. Her head thrashed from side to side in unfeigned passion on the pillow and her lips were bared back from her teeth in masochistic joy. She was loving it and she bucked back against him like a mare against a stud horse, her chestnut hair flying around her face and neck as she squirmed lewdly on the pumping instrument.

The boiler maker could see his wife's face flushing red from the intensity of her effort, her eyes wide in unseeing entrapment in the final quest for fulfillment. He watched in heated passion as his pillaging cock pulled tiny ridges of her light brown clasping flesh out with the base of his prick as it withdrew for another powerful lunge inside her, then pushed the tight elastic ring back inwards like a tiny bellows on the instroke.

Sweat rolled off his face and flowed in tiny glistening streams from her back onto the bed. His eyes bulged wide at the spectacle of her body bucking before him as he felt the rubbery passage slipping over his cock like a tight-fitting glove. He had lost control of himself and his heavy member swelled in her rectum like an inflating balloon.

Bette Jean waved her ass back against his bludgeoning thrusts. She wanted him to cum, to shoot his great boiling stream of sperm deep into her bowels. There was no longer any pain or doubt, only a feeling of being filled as she had never been before. Her ass swayed high in the air and she ground back as she felt the enormous penis throbbing in torturous hardness.

There was a low strangled gasp behind her and she felt his great, pulsating cock burst like a dam as he gave one last shove that sent wave after wave of his hot sperm flooding into the depths of her belly. Then, she felt the tremor of her climax sweep through her and she and she screamed out her release as it gushed from her open cunt, drenching his hairy balls pressed tightly against the spewing opening. The orgiastic fluids were trickling down her thighs in mingled streams when Lester groaned in exhaustion and collapsed, flattening her to the bed.

If only she could die now… fall straight through the bed to whatever place the tortured dead go and be at peace.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Wanda slammed the dishes into the dishwasher angrily. That Lester telling her to get breakfast, do the dishes, clean the house, wash the clothes. Big sister must have really put out for the first time last night. "Wasn't feeling well," he'd said. "You'll have to look after things today… she's just not up to it." He'd smiled then, like a cat swallowing a canary. She could almost see him remembering last night. Back in the sack with big sister… being the model husband… back in her bedroom and back in her frigid cunt!

What had actually gone on last night was still a mystery… and the night before even more so… but something funny was going on in this house. Something damn funny. Gary looking sick as a dog and Bette Jean with big circles under her eyes and not looking anybody in the eye, then Lester moving back into the bedroom. The funniest thing of all was after Lester and Bette Jean went to bed and Gary coming into her own bed, bawling his head off and not making any sense at all. Bawled the whole time she sucked him and fucked him. Damned kid had to be crazy… crazy as her "dear sister".

"Damn," she muttered, sucking her little finger that bled from a tiny cut when she'd dropped a glass. She glared petulantly out the kitchen window. One thing she had to do, find out what the hell was going on and secure Lester. If she didn't, she'd find herself out in the street in short order.

Wanda worked frantically all day, washing, scrubbing, polishing… even took Bette Jean some soup and milk on a tray at lunch time. She'd looked sick all right, deep circles under her eyes and wouldn't even pass the time of day. Wanda probed a little but with no results at all. Not a word about anything. Nothing useful that she could use… but if she listened long enough and snooped, she'd find out just what the hell was going on. She had to! Couldn't go back home if she wanted to and she sure as hell didn't.

Gary went into his mother's bedroom the minute he got home that afternoon. Christ he was tired. He'd walked for hours all over hell's half acre. School had been unthinkable though his father had given him a ride there this morning. He'd cut out the minute his father's truck turned the corner.

He tiptoed in quietly and stood looking down at his mother. She looked so small and vulnerable, her beautiful face pale against the pink sheet. Oh God! What had he done to her? What had he done to himself? The guilt was gnawing at his guts like a viper and his head felt like shattered crystal that could never be mended. Her eyelids quivered and she moved slightly in her sleep, the bed jacket falling away to expose one white softly pink-nippled breast. Gary felt his cock stir to life and a deep moan tore out of his chest even as he bit his lips to stifle it.

Bette Jean stirred, feeling the warm haven of bed against her naked limbs. So sleepy… so very sleepy. Her eyes refused to open. They were laden. The sedative, it must be the sedative. She pulled fitfully at the bed jacket until she felt the cool air over her breasts. A slight noise made her stiffen, her eyes flying open then. Gary. It's Gary. Without thinking her arms reached up to him. He was her good boy, coming in after school to see how she was… but he was looking at her so strangely… so very strangely. For long minutes he looked into her eyes, just out of reach of her stretching arms and then, eyes still deadlocked to hers, she watched him tear his clothes off his strong young body. Her arms fell… oh nooooo…nooooooooo. It was wrong, horribly, hideously wrong… monstrous, depraved, evil, unclean, perverted.

Wanda came out of her room. It felt good to have a bath after working like a slave all day while Bette Jean lay in bed with one of her ailments. But this situation wasn't going any further. Tonight she'd corner old Lester and tell him just exactly what she expected. He'd agree all right. Her self confidence came back with a rush. She'd have him panting in no time… he'd agree to anything then. Strange. Gary had gone into Bette Jean's room without even saying hello when he'd come roaring in from school. She hadn't heard him come out and the door was still closed. Creeping along the hall she pressed her ear to the shut door just as the front door bell rang. Wanda almost jumped out of her skin. Damnation! Who could that be?

"Yes?" Her curt greeting changed to a slow smile of welcome as she saw five burly high school boys, their eyes almost bugging out of their heads as they took in her charms. They stood, grinning and fidgeting on the steps, sneaking glances at her unfettered breasts creaming out the front of the zip-front pink crepe housecoat.

"Come in, men," she laughed gaily turning to sweep them in with a wave of her hand. She felt better immediately. An abundance of males always made her feel better.

After the introductions, Wanda brought out beer and pretzels. They were startled but flattered that she thought they were old enough, guzzling with nonchalant ease that belied their familiarity with the bitter brew.

Wanda learned they'd come for their explorer guides meeting which Gary was supposed to be hosting. She crossed one long thigh over the other where she sat on the ottoman. All ten eyes were glued like fly paper to her movement. Heavens, these city boys were hornier than the farm boys. Bette Jean and Gary must be in bad shape if they'd both forgotten the meeting. She smiled to herself smugly. There'd be no problem entertaining the boys, of course. She could handle that nicely. Explorer guides. She could take them on a few guided tours that would rattle their eyeballs!

"We… ah… is Gary here?" the longhaired big boy in the dirty jeans and yellow shirt asked.

Wanda's head was spinning. Were Bette Jean and Gary still in her room and if so what were they doing? Could the reason for their looking so bad be that they'd… done something they shouldn't? God, what a good one that would be. She'd have Lester for sure then.

"I'm not really sure. Gary did come in a while ago. Why don't you boys finish your beer and we'll just go take a look. He must be around here somewhere." Her hand moved to the little tab at the top of the zipper that held her robe together. Very slowly and deliberately she pulled it down with a deft touch another four inches till her breasts were almost falling completely out. She felt all five boys suck in their breaths noisily, then laugh in relief at her gesture when she looked down in amazement at her twin mounds of voluptuous breasts.

"Hey… ah… how about we forget all about that meeting. Don't bother old Gary, huh? We could all go for a quick spin. I'm driving the folks' wagon. Lots of room. I mean, it'll take 10 passengers and there's only the six of us." The boy in the yellow shirt, named Pete laughed suggestively. "How about it?"

"We might just do that a little later." Wanda brought more beer which they guzzled appreciatively and then excused herself when they were almost to the point of jerking out their cocks and jacking off. All five pairs of jeans held painfully bundled young cocks that were about ready to erupt. She could hear them laughing and snickering as she made her way down the hall.

Carefully she listened at the door of Bette Jean's room, then knocked briefly at Gary's door and went in. The room stared back at her emptily. The mounting excitement rose in her chest and she went flying back to stand and listen at Bette Jean's door again. Oh God… maybe they were… maybe that explained a lot of things.

Holding her breath Wanda eased the door open noiselessly. Through the silently opened crack she'd made she saw them. Her jaw hung slack in wonder.

It was more that she had imagined… or, again, was it better? The bitch's legs were banded about Gary's head in a vice-like death grip, uncontrollably panting and groaning and demanding for her cunt to be sucked faster and harder by his slavering poker-hot tongue. She flung her buttocks abandonedly, her cunt glistening in the dim light, and Gary pumped the bed with his loins as if it were a woman, making slurping and sucking noises.

"Gary," Bette Jean moaned, "Oh God…" the words exploding from her lips before conscious thought, her loins lifting frenziedly.

Wanda half-whirled, her eyes blinking rapidly, a feeling of horror and lust shooting through her. Her way was blocked by five boys, their faces hard and demanding. She was pushed against the door which opened wider behind her.

Wanda wanted to say something to them, but her throat seemed swollen shut to such simplicities. Her belly and loins were aflame with a blinding passion which had been fostered by the presence of five horny boys and the writhing couple before her.

"Mom, I…" Gary panted, and then faltered, overcome by the wild fermentations in his loins.

Wanda heard herself whimper, "God, are they enjoying it! They're really enjoying it!"

"Christ, yes!" Pete's voice breathed near her ear. "I'm… getting a hard-on just watching!"

Wanda's eyes lowered involuntarily at the sound of his words, seeing his hand release his young, blood-swollen shaft from the binding jeans and leap outward from his loins, standing immobile and proudly erect there. Her breath caught in her throat. "Pete!" she whimpered. "Pete…"

"Look at them… look at them go! Jesus," he hissed between compressed lips.

And, suddenly, Wanda knew within herself a perverted desire which made her not only watch silently while her sister was mouth-fucked by her own son. But it aroused her completely and totally. Wanda lost all control herself then, for the force of her latent lust consumed her. She ground her teeth together, mewling, "Pete," deep in her throat, and squeezed her gushing pussy together with her thighs. She was boiling inside, boiling and she moaned at the force of her emotional heat.

Pete still infused with the sight of Gary's lewd performance and by the awareness of Wanda's arousal, began to unconsciously knead her hands over his sides and then over his belly, pulling the girl tighter against his hip.

Wanda could feel the heat of the explorer guide and she pushed eagerly against him.

"Oh God, look at them go! Look at Gary suck his mom's cunt!" Pete hissed.

Wanda's hands were like separate entities, moving within Pete's grasp, moving over his upper torso, then down over the exposed cock. She felt him grab her, toying with her lips and tongue and inside ridges.

She sucked on his tongue, her eyes tightly shut, and she moved her loins just far enough from the boy to slide her panties from her hips. One zip and the robe was on the floor. Now they stood, pressed tightly together, their thighs nude white together, inseparable, his cock see-sawing the lust-drenched cleft between her inner legs as they kissed in increasingly maddened passion. Wanda trembled with the excitement. They slowly made their way into the room, until they were beside the bed.

The cool air grazed her nipples, and her naked wantonness in front of this strange lusting boy made her flesh tingle with insidious thrills. The image of her and Pete writhing in intercourse on the floor – as they would be surely in a few short moments – added immensely to the forbidden sensuality knowing who was on the bed.

Gary lifted his head and moved his hands slowly up Bette Jean's thighs. "My-my God, Mom! You're so beautiful!" She watched him as he bent and kissed her pubic mound, his hands still pressing her sides. Her head swam in the dimness, the overwhelming enrapturement of her boy tonguing her vaginal lips causing such fuzzy dizziness. She pressed her hands to Gary's dipping head, gripping his hair tightly. She didn't want him to marry any girl ever.

She wanted him all for herself.

In a growing spasm of delight her own hands massaged her breasts, pinching her nipples, then slid down her ivory belly to encourage Gary's sucking between her wide-splayed legs. Good, lovely! Bette Jean thought, dreamily. He's mine, now; mine alone.

Gary slid his hands under his mother's increasingly urgent buttocks, moving them so that her pelvis pressed his face tighter. He nipped gently the folds of her cunt, revealing the widening hole as she mewled and panted. His tongue slavered incessantly, fucking her in ever-increasing thrusts. Then, as he sank again into her widely yawning cavern, he heard the first faint rustlings beside the bed. Somebody had joined them… was watching!

The tiny sounds increased, and Gary heard the short, staccato unmistakable sounds of lovemaking. The groans, the intake of breath…

His whole being froze into immobility. What the hell was going on? Had he – could he have – heard right? No, no, of course not. He tried to raise his head to see who had come in, but the tightly imprisoning legs of Bette Jean only pressed him tighter, forcing his mouth back to her insatiable cunt. "Ooooohhhhhhh, don't stop, Gary. For God's sake don't stop sucking me!" she wailed, heaving and thrusting her buttocks hungrily up against his swirling tongue.

Gary returned to the wetly open cunt before him, new desire fanned by the thought of someone next to them. He began to lick and suck harder, wishing he could see the couple. Was the boy sucking the girl as he was sucking his Mom? Was she naked, or was her dress just raised and bunched up around her waist? His mind produced a thousand pornographic pictures as his tongue lashed out in renewed fury. Bette Jean crooned in ecstasy. She was building to an uncontrollable eruption, a driving tempest which would soon shatter her pussy with an orgasm like she had never experienced before.

His licentious ideas were interrupted by a series of soulful gasps. It sounded like a woman dying. "OOOOhhhhh!" came the female groan, a familiar voice which his ears refused to identify. "Oh… God, let me down, let me down beside you."

Then came the murmur of another voice, his own rasping out. "I'm going to fuck you, Mom! I'm going to fuck you right now!"

"Yes, yes… ohhhhhhhhhh!"

The kitchen was shining when Lester got home. That damn Wanda had moved her ass after all. He opened the refrigerator door and peered in. Moving the dishes and bottles, this way and that, he still couldn't locate a beer in the icy interior.

In the living room he saw all the empty cans strewn about. What the hell was coming off around here? A man gets home tired and someone has drunk every last cold beer. There wasn't a soul in sight either. Lester went into the hall and walked toward the bedroom.

Suddenly he stopped. There was the sound of voices. Jesus! It sounded like someone was fucking! Cautiously he eased further toward the opened door. It was blocked with boys, big high school boys. What the hell was coming off!

Craning his neck around their heads and bracing himself in the open doorway he peered into the bedroom. My God! He nearly fell. Only his gripping hands on the doorframe held him up. There were four boys standing in that doorway jacking off, their faces lewd masks of lust and on the floor was Wanda spread-eagled with another boy fucking into her for all he was worth. And on the bed… his eyes squeezed shut and then opened, unable to take in what he saw… Bette Jean and Gary, naked, panting. Then he heard Gary mumble almost incoherently, "I'm going to fuck you, Mom! I'm going to fuck you right now!"

His own wife was begging for their son to fuck her! He couldn't believe it! He shook uncontrollably, lost in the roaring impact of his realization. He stared in utter shock at Bette Jean and Gary. It couldn't be… no, not that… but it was happening, happening right in front of his own eyes!

Gary's tongue moved up along her quivering belly, dipping momentarily into the curvature of her navel in passing, then tenderly licking one nipple, tantalizing it, his lips sucking the aureole to her gasping pleasure. The sudden hiatus in the rhythmic thumping on the floor told her Wanda had heard them, was now aware of what was going on. But she didn't care, didn't care! In fact, she couldn't wait for her "dear baby sister" to see her and Gary absorbed in wonderful terrible carnality. A shiver of sheer vitriolic depravity traversed her body.

Gary gasped. "Oh damnit!" he moaned, his words almost unintelligible as his mouth sucked her fevered breast. Then he removed his searing hold and looked up at her lovingly and said again. "I'm going to fuck you, Mom! I'm going to fuck you right now!"

The words surged through her, the sensations of desire almost sending her into orgasm then and there. Her belly churned with the pleasure building deep in her loins. She moved closer, fusing herself to him.

"Yes, yes… OOOhhhhh!" she moaned. She had risen up now, straddling her son, looking down at the youthful body. And he in turn seemed to grow beneath her lascivious gaze as flower buds beneath the warming rays of the sun. He spread his legs wide, opening his inner thighs to her lusting gaze. She barely heard Wanda's cry as she demanded that her cunt be fucked harder; Bette Jean's hand reached out with frantic plundering for Gary's hot, stiff cock, all else forgotten now, all else unimportant. His penis pulled gently in her grasp, and tenderly she began to stroke it, her eyes fastened on its girth, its rigid detail! How you have grown, Gary, my love. I remember when your cock was but worm size, cradled by almost invisible balls and a diaper's fluffy whiteness. How good it looked even then. And later, as you grew and it increased in size… yes, I remember the thrill of seeing an erection on you the first time, how I secretly yearned to fondle and kiss your beautiful manhood. And now you are a man, and it is searching and growing for your mother… how wonderful…

Bette Jean bent and kissed the unseeing eye of her son's prick, and then smiled at him tenderly, moving her other hand along the taut muscles of his abdomen and along his heaving chest. His cock throbbed against her cheek, and kittenishly she rubbed her soft face against it, smelling it, caressing it with her fingertips, learning every ridge and curve with passionate fervor. Gary sighed and moaned, shaking his head in ecstasy, his tongue licking his dry lips.

"Oh God, Mom! Don't stop! I love your touch on my penis…"

His vulgar words spurred Bette Jean further, and she raised her head, breathed deeply, and then plunged his shaft deep into her mouth. She began to wriggle her hips, mewling hungrily as her son's now vibrating prick nearly reached her palate, tickling the soft folds of her throat. Her hot breath against his pubic hair made Gary's loins ripple with delight and he began to fuck her mouth with long and bold strokes. His cock tasted like the finest ambrosia filling her salivating cavern with ever demanding pulses. Bette Jean cupped her son's sperm-laden balls with both her hands and started to squeeze and manipulate them with innate and loving skill while her throat continued to expand and contract in her increasing desire to suck him to climax.

I want his cum all of it I want to swallow his cum and have it boil within me… My son came to me as seed, and now he will cum again as seed…

Christ, what are they doing?

Lester gaped at the incredible debauchery being performed before him. Goddamn them, my own wife and son, so help me God I'll kill them both for this! His mind was in complete turmoil by the sickening picture of incest, the thought of his lovely wife whimpering and purring with increased and prurient bliss as she sucked Gary's shaft. In embittered shock, sick at soul Lester stood in anguish behind the masturbating boys.

Then, suddenly, waves of guilt rippled through him. He was the cause of this! Yes, he! They were not at fault, did not deserve the wrath of his punishment. As he looked at his wife and son in their carnal abuse, he knew that the momentary need of fucking Wanda had been was not worth the price he was now paying. The plaything on the floor meant nothing to him, yet the rendering of services which he had fostered could be endless in their consequences.

"Mom, don't stop… please don't stop!" moaned Gary, his hands entangled in her hair as she pressed her face back over his wet, steaming cock.

Oh God, what have I done? Lester's mind asked sickly. But even as tormented as it was, he could do nothing but watch the horrible performance. He was incapable of anything else for it was too late now, too late.

Then, as though to assuage his guilt, the thought of his wife sucking Gary suddenly began to excite him. The immoral act of hers was so much more terrible than his adulterous tryst with Wanda that it could make any anger, any revulsion, any hatred disappear. His cock hardened in his pants and he was lost in the total sensuality of the situation.

"Ooooohhhhh!" he heard his son groan. "I'm going to cum! I'm going to spurt my load in your mouth, Mom…"

Lester watched, almost choking, the salaciousness of Gary's depraved words involving him with overwhelming lust. He stared at the two of the the sight of his son's hard shaft almost completely absorbed between his wife's ovalled lips increasing the sensation a thousandfold. Jesus Christ! He cried silently. She's really sucking him!

Bette Jean massaged the soft resilient skin of Gary's testicles and tantalizingly used her left hand to stroke the hardened shaft as she drank in his cock rhythmically. Her tongue swirled at its apex, maddeningly flicking across the wide split of the glans on top. Gary arched his buttocks as he fucked her mouth, the pink edges of her lips pulling out as he withdrew and then clinging greedily he shoved his rod back in, further and further into her engorged throat.

Suddenly Gary groaned and removed his saliva-drenched penis from his mother's mouth. "I… I've got to fuck you!" he moaned. He wriggled, moving under Bette Jean's hovering legs until the tip of his penis quivered just below the thin, red cunt lips of her widened crotch. He jerked upwards, feeling the smooth, rubbery head rub against the softness of her pubic hair, running it along the furrow of her pussy. "Fuck you, Mom… gotta fuck you!"

Lester's eyes enlarged at the sight of his wife's wildly undulating buttocks as she ground her open vagina against his son's demon shaft. "Oh, yesss… yes… yesssss!" she crooned and she reached down and with one hand parted the quivering lips of her vagina, running an exploratory forefinger inside, shivering with its impact, while the other hand she guided her son's stone-hard cock to the hungrily awaiting hole. A mixture of desire and fear permeated her whole being. After a single moment's hesitation, she plunged her boy's cock against her cunt, expanding the resisting lips almost to tearing.

"Oh God, you're so big, Gary, dear, your cock is so big! I… I can't take it all… Nooooooo!"

She struggled as Gary's shaft lurched inside her, impaling her far more than she had estimated. She was truly filled with her son, with her flesh and blood. Gary put an elbow beneath him and looked down between them at her opened furrow as his hardened cock crushingly thrust up into her soft, pulsating vagina. Then, with one huge surge, he buried his giant cock all the way up in her tight quivering belly.

"Aaaaaaaggggghhhhhh," Bette Jean screamed uncontrollably. He bloated her bowels with his cock, every wrinkle insinuating against the sides of her vagina. He flicked upward once more.

"Uhhhhh!"

Again.

"Aaaaaagggghhhhh! Oh my God! Dear Jesus!" Bette Jean wailed.

Gary flexed his elephantine hardness, raising another deep groan from within his mother, but it was a lesser sound of torture. She was becoming accustomed to his inhuman size, and the hot passion of fucking took over.

She glanced at his chest, dropping her head down so it nestled his shoulder as she kneeled over him. "Oh please, son… please! I want you to fuck me hard! I never dreamed it could be so good!"

Gary began a slow revolving motion with his loins, grinding his penis tightly up into her nakedly aroused cunt, expanding her helplessly impaled pussy with ever-increasing sawing action. He thrust upward unmercifully, in and out with battering, tearing regularity. His hand crept across her curved spinal cord and played along the crevice between her naked buttocks until his finger found the raw, puckered anus pointing toward the ceiling. He rubbed his finger there briefly, teasing her rectal opening like another hot, probing tongue.

"OOooohhhh!" Bette Jean gasped. Her hips began an automatic gyration as finally, Gary dipped his finger through the tight nether ring of his mother's anus and wormed it deeply into her warm, spongy interior flesh. He moved it in a circular motion, expanding the tight hole until the palm of his hand lay flat against her buttocks. Bette Jean writhed and cried above him in the double ravishment of her genitals, and the outrageous dual defilement of her naked loins brought insanely masochistic pleasure surging through her body.

Gary moved his other hand around and felt the soft, hair-lined folds of her pussy where it clasped wetly around his cock. He fondled the gently contracting lips, bringing further mewls of delightful sensation from his mother's mouth, and he could feel the ever-widening passage of her seething vagina milking his prick in greedy desire as he continued to plunge in and out…

Lester moaned at the sight of his son's pistoning penis violating his wife's insanely grinding cunt, but he had little time to think further, for the dim room was suddenly flooded with light, and the lewd carnal scene exploded in vivid reality.

"Goddamn!" exclaimed a boy in the doorway, his hand on the light switch, his thick cock jutting like a small, purplish log in front of him, through the opening of his jeans.

"Jesus!" he whispered, "Isn't that the old lady down there?"

"You're right! Holy God, didn't you know it was his mother!"

"Look at them go, will ya?" the boy said wheezingly. "They're fucking like it's the end of the world!"

All eyes were on the wildly licentious couple as they screwed abandonedly. Lester groaned, but his eyes were glued to Bette Jean and Gary, just as the eyes of the others were, listening to the wild sucking sounds of his son's hot, pounding strokes.

"I don't believe it!" the boy choked, moving closer. He stepped over to the couple, but they were too wrapped in ecstasy, much too far gone, to know or care who else was there. The others joined him and then squatted down next to Bette Jean's undulating buttocks. "Look at that cunt of hers travel, just begging for cock!"

Lester wanted to scream! How Goddamn innocent he had been! Gary couldn't be her first affair, not by any means. He should have known she had fucked others before. Oh my God how many others had she fucked?

With his face a mask of licentiousness, one boy lay down beside Bette Jean and placed one of her hands on his throbbing hardened prick. Mindless with lust, she obediently clasped his rod and began stroking it in time with her undulating hips, her eyes tightly closed. She manipulated the cock, moaning ever increasing chants as Gary continued to thrust deep into her voracious cunt, her buttocks waving in the obscene kneeling position. Gary's finger still jerked in her tightly clenched rectum, and with the lights on, Lester could see her anus pucker and nip at the slender prong, ramming back on it as she swung up from the monster violating her cunt below, then surging downward, then up, then down.

Another boy groaned and dropped to his knees, taking his waving cock between his hand, pulling on it as though it were a milk-giving teat. The boy Pete fucked Wanda's dripping cunt, and her legs splayed wide, the slushing of the fucking and her cries of ecstasy mingling with the other lovemaking noises.

Even as he watched tormentedly, Lester could not believe the nightmarish orgy. It was beyond his comprehension. Oh God! Bette Jean, his wife, getting fucked by their son in front of carnal-encited youths! The sight of their actions and the sounds of the rampant abuses filled his brain, making it reel with insanity. He had never dreamed of such debauchery, such depravity – and his sweet, puritanical wife was at the very core of it. Her wild mewls of passion were more than he could tolerate. He had to join in this lewd pillaging of the senses, take her, punish her and himself! He had to fuck her too, like the dirty little whore she was!

He leaped to the bed, freeing and holding his cock as if it were some bludgeoning weapon. "I'm going to fuck you, Bette Jean!" he yelled. "Do you hear me? I'm going to fuck you in the asshole!"

"Ohhhhh!" she moaned, as his words penetrated her almost insensate brain. "Ohhh yes, darling… I want you in me, too!"

"Ummmmmm, agghhhh!" Gary wailed in unintelligible agreement.

Just the thought of fucking Bette Jean while his son screwed her underneath, while she handled another boy's cock, stirred Lester's loins further. He could contain himself no longer. He lunged at the puckered anus nestled between his wife's soft madly gyrating buttocks.

Bette Jean could feel the pit of her thighs and stomach hot and moist, and the savage force of her son's pulsating cock brutally batter her cervix, causing her to grunt uncontrollably. She heard her husband's wild cry of desire, and a tingling thrill rushed through her, making her fuck down on Gary that much harder. Yes, this is what I want, both of them, both men in my life inside me, all around me, all through me at the same time! The first realization that Lester was also important to her sifted into her passion crazed mind, and the desires built proportionately within her. Then Lester tore Gary's finger from her anus, almost ripping the walls of the tight little hole and making her squeal with piteous pain. "Aaaaaaaggghhh, God!" She clenched her buttocks together, only to have her husband stretch it again with the palms of his nervously quivering hands.

Lester opened her buttocks wider with his thumbs, probing at her already abused anus with his finger, widening and preparing it for his penetration. Bette Jean removed her hand from the boy's hardened, pulsating cock and turned her head. She could see Lester stroking his big, blue-veined prick. He pulled his foreskin back, exposing the huge bulbous head, and then aimed it directly for her anus. She spread her thighs open in anticipation.

Bette Jean turned her attention to the pressing need of Lester, and she reached between her legs and guided his stiff cock to the tightly puckered entrance of her hungrily aroused rectum.

Then she held her breath as the smooth, rubbery head popped suddenly through the tight elastic ring, and Lester caught hold of her shoulders and shoved the entire length of his great weapon up to its hair-covered hilt, his balls rapping against the backs of her thighs. She cried out, first in pain, then in utter abandoned ecstasy, as she felt both cocks buck and jerk inside her, with only the thin membrane between the parallel shafts. She groaned aloud like some animal bitch in heat as both husband and son skewered her like a helpless rag doll between their hardened, rampaging rods of flesh. Then, as if on a prearranged signal, they began to fuck in unison. Lester withdrew slowly, and Gary did the same, until only the heads of their cocks remained inside her – Lester's held only by her ravaged sphincter ring and Gary's by the pink-rimmed lips of her insatiable cunt. Then they rammed simultaneously, driving deeply up inside her, their stiffness pushing against each other along the parallel channels of her cunt and rectal passages.

"More!" she was able to groan. "I want more!"

They gave her more, fucking her with a constant rhythm that made her think of waves crashing upon a beach. Again and again they pounded against the pink island of flesh between her open orifices. She didn't want it to end, ever, not ever…!!

Wanda threw off the inexperienced Pete. Moaning and uncontrollable as she watched the trio writhing on the bed, she scampered over and squatted her own twitching pussy over Gary's gaping, passion-twisted mouth. Her cunt hairs tickled Bette Jean's nose as the girl settled down on Gary's curled tongue.

Bette Jean stared at Gary's wet darting tongue lapping Wanda's soft, parted cunt lips, heard the girl cry out with delight as she heatedly gave vent to the rising passions of her body. She saw Wanda's thin fingers busily toying with her full, ripe breasts, rolling and squeezing the hardened nipples in a way only a woman can. The lust-crazed wife began to tremble with even more fire from the strange forbidden events she was part of; no, was truly the heart of. Her upbringing had never even intimated this sort of thing, let alone the vile degrading but yet somehow perfectly proper acts she was already performing with her husband and son. Her being was so filled with the all consuming lust!

She stared at Wanda, grinding into Gary's face. NO! She couldn't have him!

"Now… Dad… Oh now, I'm going… to… cummmmmm!" Bette Jean heard her son say from beneath her, and then the rhythm of their fucking increased, and she had to grit her teeth to keep from screaming out her own building agony. Gary and Lester drove faster, faster, faster, and Bette Jean felt her son's cock lurch against her womb and his nozzle begin to spew forth an endless torrent of white boiling seed.

"Ooohhhhhh! I'm… cummmmmiiinnnngggg!" he howled.

Lester pushed every last inch of his prick into her bowels, panting madly. "Fuck me!" he yelled. "Fuck back, baby! Fuck back!" His body began to convulse as he clawed her waist with his fingers, and she rammed against him in one final fury until she felt the first spluttering squirts of his sperm shoot deep into her rectum. Still her son came in her vagina, adding his bursting dam of hot liquid fire, and she was being filled, deliciously filled; ever increasingly the walls of her whole belly were inundated by the thick flood of cum.

Bette howled like a wounded predator, and then shuddered violently as her own pinnacle was being reached: Oh Christ, oh heaven above, I want to cum… Now, with my boy and my husband still inside me… yes… we'll all cum together… as a family…

Then Bette Jean cried out: "Yes! Yessss I'm cummmmmmmmmminnnnnngggg!" She yelled again, her orgasm enveloping the very core of her being, and she heaved and bucked as the last spurts of semen filled both her cunt and anus. The force was unbelievable! Never had she thought there was so much pleasure from sex, from anything on earth! Her brain reeled and her thighs trembled as the sensual climax churned through her…

She fell forward finally, a long time later, half conscious, upon her son's still heaving chest.

Lester and Gary stayed inside her, their cocks slowly softening little by little. Dreamily, she felt their sperm ooze warmly out of her orifices and dribble down her legs front and back to pool beneath her knees. A long time later, they withdrew wearily, together.

"Jesus!" Lester murmured, falling on his back, exhausted.

"You were wonderful, Mom!" Gary said in a whisper, stroking her hair affectionately.

Later, after the boys had reached their climaxes, and they had rested, Bette Jean, Gary and the boys began anew.

Wanda led Lester away to her room, winding herself around him like a snake. He welcomed the opportunity, still not believing the nightmare still going on in his own house, on his own bed.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Lester was so tired he didn't feel he could move a muscle. The sun streamed into the window. Wanda lay sprawled beneath his exhausted body which rested still half across her naked flesh. He raised his head and looked at her, flushed with sleep and breathing through her mouth. She stirred under his gaze as though she could feel it. Sleepily she opened her eyes, clear and young even after such a night. A little crease of worry formed between the green eyes.

In a voice blurred with sleep, she asked anxiously, "You haven't forgotten. You will throw them out, won't you? I'll make you so happy, Lester. Please let me be with you… here…"

He crawled up and off the rumpled bed. Shaking his head to clear it, he tried to remember the conversation. Christ! The girl was insatiable. He felt as old as Methuselah. They'd fucked all night it seemed and then he remembered. Before, during and after the fucking she'd nagged him about Gary and Bette Jean, calling them every filthy name ever invented. She'd made him promise to throw them out this morning, make them leave forever for what they'd done.

Wearily he pulled on some pants he found lying where he'd thrown them. The whole world felt as brown and rancid as the taste in his mouth. The shining sun streaming in was an effrontery after what had happened.

Wanda leaped from the bed and threw on a robe. She was beside him, peering anxiously into his face, catching his arm. "You promised… last night you promised… come on… let's do it now."

The door to the master bedroom was still open. Lester stopped in the doorway and looked at the shambles. Wanda clung to him anxiously. "Look at them!" she hissed.

On the strained crumpled sheets lay his wife, her arms outspread, legs split wide, asleep. There was a young boy curled under each arm, mouths stuck in sleep around each soft nipple. Between her legs Gary was sprawled, his head pillowed on a white thigh, nose nuzzling the hair fringed cunt, the breath whistling out in tiny sleeping sounds. Even in the obscene position with three young boys curved into her semen stained flesh, dried like white scum, she looked young and innocent, still vulnerable to Lester. He wondered dully where the other boys had gone… slipped out probably some time during the night.

Wanda suddenly wrenched away and stalked to the bed. She reached down and shook Bette Jean awake. "Wake up… come on… wake up…!"

The boys stirred. They looked up, confused and uncertain. Gary lifted his head and his mouth hung open in stupefied terror at the sight of his father in the doorway.

Lester saw Bette Jean come awake. Her eyes, so blue and innocent still, suddenly retreated like a wary animal as she took in his presence and Wanda's.

"Get up… get up and get out! Lester says you have to leave. Do you hear? Get up and take your whelp with you!" Wanda shrilled.

"Don't touch me, sister." Bette Jean said calmly. She looked at Lester just as calmly. "It isn't I who will leave… it's you… you and Lester. This is my house, do you hear? You brought carnality into it… you debauched my son and seduced my husband, committed adultery under my very nose… you, dear sister, are the serpent… the fruit of knowledge was your offering… well, as ye sow… so shall you reap…" She had risen up to a sitting position in the bed, the boys still lying curled and holding their breaths as she rose like the phoenix from her own ashes, her eyes blazing, her voice like a shrill oracle. "I don't need either of you! Leave us in peace… I don't need anyone except my boy, Gary… my boy and all the others! They will love me, as you never could! Get out… get out, do you hear!" She was screaming, the words tearing out of her pain like piercing bullets meant to destroy.

Lester turned, his shoulders slumped like an old man's, and cringing a little as the stream of words poured out and hit his back. Wanda went scuttling past him, sobbing and holding her ears. He had to get away, far away, but it was not a thing he could look forward to. He wondered dully how long it would be before he'd find Wanda in bed with half the neighborhood too. Sometimes the seeds of a whole family were bad. It had even tainted his own seed, Gary.

Bette Jean watched them go, with a smile of triumph on her face. Frigid, Lester had always called her. She laughed hollowly, and gathered the frightened boys to her again.

Content

Jackson Robard
The cub-scout mother

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT