Fumbling Towards Ecstasy
(Mm+/Ff+, inc, size, anal)

by Kysa Braswell
(with dialogue input from Jay Elengood)
www.kysaonline.com

At her back rose the giant green and brown walls of the long range mountains of Newfoundland, the range stretching away on either hand in violet and deep blue masses. At her feet lay the billowy green and yellow plain, vast as ocean, and channeled by innumerable streams, while one black patch on a slope far away showed us that her foes were camping on the very spot where they had overcome us. Forced to find another camping spot, Tina Chivas pointed on the map to a canyon only ten kilometers away.

Tina tucked her hands beneath the bottom of the faded blue sweatshirt she wore. She pulled upward, easing it over her head and arms, then tossing it atop the granite boulder beside her. She smiled, feeling a rush of excitement. Hooking her arms behind her back, her fingers found the clasp to her white bra and freed it. The confining halter slipped forward, the heavy 34G-cup mounds of her breasts spilling out and doing a lively little jostling dance. Her hands slid under the twin, pillow-like tits, massaging away the redness left by the bra. She wasn't used to wearing the bra and it felt so damn good to be free of the thing - if only for a few moments. She had slipped away from the others for an evening swim. She glanced to her chest, her smile widening. They were still attractive breasts, firm and rounded with just a bit of a pendulous swing to them. Not at all the breasts one would expect on a woman who had nursed two children. But then, Tina Chivas' body wasn't that of a woman in her early forties. She had seen to that. She was proud of her body and had taken care of it during the twenty-two years of marriage and twenty years of motherhood. Middle age had been slow to find her: she appeared no more than thirty, and though no longer a girl, she was not an unattractive woman. But what was better - she felt like a woman of thirty.

With a toss of her head, she sent a cascade of fiery red hair, still untouched by cosmetic aids, back over her slightly- freckled shoulders. Releasing the weighty globes of her breasts, she reached down and popped the snap to her jeans, then drug the zipper down its metallic track Sucking in a deep breath of the crisp mountain air, she slipped her fingers under the tops of her jeans and the elastic band of her panties. She wiggled her hips a bit and shimmied free of her clothing. Completely naked, she stood alone beside the edge of a mountain pool deep within the forests of the Northwest. It was exhilarating. Her whole body felt alive.

She grinned, suddenly wishing her husband Peter were with her. She felt sexy and what better place to make love than here amid the fertile wildness of the forest. Next time she discovered such a secluded pool, she would see that Peter was with her - or perhaps they could slip off tonight when the others were asleep, and revisit this one. Below her, reflected in the water, another grinning woman stared up to her. For a moment or two, Tina stood there, admiring the supple sleekness of her nakedness. The flatness of her stomach, the long shapely contours of her legs, the womanly knoll of her shaven pubes - all reasons why after their years of marriage, she and Peter were still lovers.

Stretching out a toe, she tested the water, shattering the mirror-like image in a series of ripples. The water was cool, but not cold. Without hesitating, she stepped into the pool, immersing her bare body in its soothing waters. Despite her earlier protests, she was glad she had given in to her husband and agreed to this wilderness trek. Even with the long hours of hiking each day, she was enjoying every minute of their summer vacation. She kicked out toward the center of the pool and rolled over to float on her back. However, she did wish it were just Peter and her and their children, and not Candace and her family along on this mountain trip.

Children! She shook her head and laughed aloud. Spence was twenty, a junior in college, and Linda was eighteen, ready to begin her own college education this fall. Neither could be described as children any more. She had to be careful about calling them that. She remembered how much it had irritated her when her own mother had done it. Still, she wished Candace and her family weren't here. Not that she minded Candace or her son Jimmy or even her step-daughter Anne. There was something about all three of them that made them the type of people one enjoyed being around. Al, Candace's husband, was a different story.

Tina wasn't sure exactly what it was about Al that put her off, but the man made her feel uncomfortable. He was so straight, so uptight. Mr. Middle-class Conservative, that was Al, she decided. If there were any member of their group that put a damper on things, it was Al. It was as though he was afraid to let himself go, afraid to enjoy their vacation. Why Candace had ever selected him to fill the vacancy left by Raymond's death in Vietnam, Tina would never understand. Perhaps Candace needed the security; Al was a hard worker and a good provider. He wasn't Raymond, not by a long shot. Raymond was Tina's one regret in her life. She and Peter had shared an open marriage for more than half their life together. Yet, she had never been able to approach Raymond. It had been a mistake, she knew that now. She and Raymond had been close - yes, loved each other. Neither had ever been able to admit that then - the times were different, people afraid to display their feelings for one another. And then, Raymond had been Peter's sister's husband. No matter what the reasons, it was too late now - it was a loss that could never be filled.

Tina's thoughts returned to Al. He was attractive enough for a sexual partner, but he would probably freak out if he ever learned about Peter's and her marriage. Knowing Al, he would probably refuse to let Candace and the children see them ever again. That had to be avoided. Peter and his younger sister had always been close. Closer than most siblings in that Peter had raised Candace after their parents' death in an auto accident. Still, it would be amusing to watch Al's stone face shatter in moral horror if she should walk up and proposition him for a little extramarital hanky-panky. She laughed again, rolling over to swim the length of the mountain pool.

Jimmy Sanders' groin was on fire, aching with need. The eighteen-year old youth had wandered away from the rest of the group for a bit of privacy. He had seen his Aunt Tina slip away from the camp and followed her, hoping to talk with the woman. The two of them had always gotten along well - and she was cool, both she and Uncle Peter were in with the times, without having to try to act young. All he had wanted to do was talk. He never expected this! His dark, young eyes devoured the supple nakedness of his aunt. He had never really seen her as a woman before, but now it would be impossible to see her as anything else. Aunt Tina was beautiful! He glared at the big balls of her tits. He wished his hands were massaging those luscious looking mounds rather than hers. And the pinkness of her pink nipples, standing stiff and hard in the coolness of the evening - his lips and tongue hungered to possess those tempting morsels of flesh. His big cock stiffened, straining against the tightness of his jeans. Aunt Tina turned a bit, glancing over her shoulder as if checking to see if she were alone. His eyes drifted over the sleek smoothness of her stomach, homing in on the most private part of her body. Aunt Tina shaved her pussy! He had read about women doing that, and he had seen pictures in magazines of women with shaven cunts. But he had never seen one - not for real - not in the flesh. His balls did all sorts of wild flip-flops. Jimmy stifled a moan of disappointment when his aunt turned back to the pool, denying him a further view of her sex. His hand reached down and squeezed the swollen length of his prick. His eyes caressed the oval-shaped cheeks of her ass, as she bent over and tested the water. It was the ass of a woman, full and rounded. He sucked in his breath. Aunt Tina was a woman, all woman, not one of the million girls who filled the world around him. There was nothing girlish about her. Her body was so damn beautiful; it sent throbbing aches of desire through his young body, just standing there behind the trunk of an old oak, watching her. He had had girls before - Mary Jane in the back seat of their family car - Sarah, that night of the senior prom out behind the country club. But Jimmy Sanders had never had a woman.

Aunt Tina walked out into the pool, the water climbing up the taut length of her legs. She did a little spring and pushed out to the center of the pond. When she rolled onto her back, the alluring forms of her tits stood atop her chest, wet and shining, like shimmering domes. At their crests, her nipples still stood, stiffly pointing to the sky. Just to be able to touch her. To feel his fingers move over the pinkness of her body. That would be enough - even if the touch was no more than a fleeting second or two. It was then Jimmy decided to strip and join his skinny-dipping aunt. He peeled away his clothes and slipped into the pool before Tina noticed his presence.

"Jimmy!" She looked surprised to see him, but not shocked. "What are you doing here?"

He didn't answer, but swam out to join her.

"Jimmy?" she said again, uncertainty in her voice. "What are you doing here?"

"You," he said, coming beside her. "I saw you from up there." He pointed to a stand of oaks above the pool. "I wanted you."

Those last three words slipped over his tongue before he realized what he was saying. He hadn't meant to be that brash. He didn't want to frighten her off, to scare her into leaving. But if Tina was frightened, she didn't show it. Her eyes, green and sparkling like emeralds, widened a bit; then she smiled. It was a gentle smile, a smile of understanding.

"Jimmy..."

"You're beautiful," he blurted out, confidence growing within him. "I've never seen a woman so beautiful!"

He moved closer, the nakedness of his young body brushing against her bare skin. Tina fought to suppress a thrilling tremble that rose within her. He was so young, so virile. The thought of taking him as a lover was exciting. The boy had inherited Raymond's looks and physique. It would be a lie to deny she found him attractive. But she was his aunt.

"Jimmy..." she fumbled for her words. She did not want to hurt him. "Jimmy, thank you, that was a nice compliment. But, Jimmy, I'm your aunt. And I'm so much...."

"Older than me?" He shook his head. "That doesn't matter. You're still beautiful."

She smiled again, fighting against the natural urges of her own body. It would be easy if I didn't feel so sexy, she thought. Her feet found the bottom of the pool and she began to walk to the bank and her clothes.

"Please don't leave," Jimmy said behind her. He reached out and took her hand.

"Jimmy, do you realize..." She turned back to him It was a mistake. The water was below her chest. Her breasts, glistening with moisture, were exposed to his eyes.

Before she could finish her sentence, her nephew's hand rose and lightly touched one of the bulging mounds. A shudder of desire raced through her body. Without thinking she moaned softly.

He smiled, stepping closer. His hand tightened its hold on her vulnerably bare tit.

"You feel good." His voice was deep and husky with want. "So smooth and soft."

She knew she should turn and leave. But she didn't. Instead she moaned again when his fingertips found the plump, stiff form of her nipple. He toyed with it, drawing circles around the pink halo of flesh surrounding it. He pressed closer. The extremely thick cockhead touched her bare thigh. He didn't move, but stood there, his aroused cock throbbing against her leg. She shivered, not in fear or repulsion - but in desire.

"Jimmy," she began again. But the sudden squeezing of his caressing hand cut off whatever words she intended to speak. His exploring fingers dug firmly into the ball of her breast, kneading the pliant flesh.

"Kiss me," he whispered, inching closer to her. "Kiss me, Aunt Tina."

With increased vigor, his hand worked her massive mound of titflesh. Summery waves of sexual heat coursed through her on a direct line to the pulsing channel of her sex. She did as he said. She leaned forward and kissed her nephew. Their lips met, pressing against one another. Then his mouth opened and his tongue flicked out, taunting her to open her mouth to him. She did, accepting the deep thrust of the youth's tongue. He was pressed firmly against her now, as though he realized she would offer no more protests. His hand released hers, then drifted downward to skim a thigh and ease between her legs. Almost on their own accord, her thighs opened to him, allowing his hand to cup the shaven rise of her pubis. She moaned around his mouthful of tongue, as his hand clamped firmly over the bulge of her cunt. She forgot all thoughts of trying to prevent him from exploring her body. Instead, her arms encircled his waist, tensing at the boulder-hard contours of his young buttocks, her own tongue eventually snaking into his mouth to probe and taunt. An inquisitive finger slid between the cleft of her loins, finding the open and willing tunnel of her cunt. Upward his digit moved, invading her body. She moaned again under the wanton rise of passion filling her. His finger twisted and stroked a moment, then was joined by another of his taunting fingers. Standing there, waist deep in the water, she took his two fingers, groaning with mounting desire.

"You want it, don't you?" He smiled when they parted. "You want it as much as I do."

His fingers drove all the way to their third knuckles, as if to emphasize his words. She nodded, unable to speak as she gasped with his forceful invasion. He pumped into her, finger fucking her pussy with decided relish.

"But not here," she managed to say.

Suddenly, he pulled from her cunt, his other hand releasing the hold on her tit. "There, by those trees."

Taking her hand once again, he led her from the water. The place he selected was a small grassy clearing hidden behind a low hedge-like growth of bushes - secluded and just right for two bodies. Without speaking, she lowered herself to the grass, laying on her back, thighs open to him. Her nephew stood above her for a moment obviously enjoying the unashamed nakedness of her body. At the same time, her eyes roved over him, homing in on the impressively large cock jutting from his groin. She had been wrong in thinking of him as a boy earlier - Jimmy was every inch a man, she would later find he carried an extremely thick ten and a half inches of prickmeat between his legs.

Raising her arms, she beckoned to him. He answered with a pleased smile and came to her, sliding atop the luxury of her supine body. His hands covered her bulging tits and his mouth met hers. Simultaneously, she reached down, wedging a hand between their cores. She found the stalk of his sex and squeezed. He did a little aroused twitch atop her and moaned. Her fingers caressed the swollen firmness of his youthful length, reveling in its virile feel, its urgent throbs. It felt so long and hard - so ready to enter the aching slit of her sex. Expertly, she guided him to the slightly-pouting lips of her labia, nestling his cockhead within those thick lips. With an excited tremor of desire, his hips bucked forward. In one thrust, he skewered into her, burying himself within the moist harbor of her pussy. She felt every bit as good as he had imagined. Hot and tight, his aunt's cunt stretched around the swollen length of his cock. Her pelvis undulated beneath him, washing the clingy folds of her pussy around him, bathing his bone-hard prick in the luxury of her body.

He wanted to just lay, feeling her beneath him, soaking in her womanhood, but his body was fired with lust. His hips inched upward. His prick slithered from the silky depths of her cunt. Then he slammed back, drilling to the hilt. The woman under him, his aunt, groaned with pleasure beneath the fleshy impact.

"Yes," she whispered when his pelvis rose once again. "Yes, that's it. Fuck me!"

His balls jumped. Fuck me! She had asked him to fuck her. It was the sexiest thing he had ever heard. Sweet Aunt Tina had asked him to fuck her. He had never imagined her using that word, let alone begging him to do it.

His hands squeezed into the pliable domes of her breasts, as though using them for handles. His hips plunged down. His cock, jerking with excitement, rammed into the welcoming gash of her shaven pussy. She groaned. He felt so damn good. Swollen and long, his young prick tunneled deeply into the mouth of her belly. He filled her, packed her to the brim. Thrills of lustful want blasted through her wanton body. If it wasn't enough that this her latest lover was so young, there was the wicked taste of forbidden fruit in their union. This was not just some youthful sexual partner - this was her nephew. As tight as possible, she squeezed down on his shafting length. She made the channel of her cunt a fleshy vise, igniting a pleasurable friction over each inch of his prick. His groans rose to mingle with hers. Deep and hard, he drove into her. She had men who knew more about how to please a woman, but very few could match his vigor. In and out he poled, plummeting and probing the hot socket of her cunt. He was like a rutting stag and she was the vessel of his lust. She accepted and welcomed each forceful lunge of his penetrating cock. She worked her own pelvis, accommodating his wants and needs, giving herself completely to him.

Harder and harder, he tore into her aching pussy. She felt the juices of arousal flowing within her, lubricating the fleshy piston that reamed her so marvelously. Up and down her hips hunched, matching each of his ravaging strokes. Their bodies slapped together, just wet from the water and moistened by their own sweat. They worked together, each trying to satisfy, yet take as much as possible from the other. Her thighs pulsed with a glowing heat. She groaned in disbelief. Already her body raced toward its release of lust and desire. With reckless abandon she threw her pelvis upward, deepening the angle of his penetration. Hotter and hotter the fires of need burned within the core of her body. The throbbing heat of her thighs expanded, swirling out in nebulous streams. They met in exploding ecstasy. She came, her whole body shuddering with tremors of unleashed pleasure. She whimpered and thrashed beneath the weight of the youth atop her. Her fingernails dug into the globes of his buttocks, trying to drag him deeper into the steamy, contracting channel of her cunt.

In a rush, like erupting lava, he came. Gush after gush of hot, burning cum spewed from the head of his cock. Sperm and semen, in a creamy white flood, filled the spongy tunnel of his aunt's vagina. His balls emptied themselves of their fiery load, jetting spew after spew into her fertile womb, until his cum oozed from her wanton slit and trickled down a thigh.

Then he was still, soaking in the gratification of their carnal union. Full weight, he rested atop the quivering bed of woman flesh, moaning his total pleasure. Tina closed her arms around the boy, lovingly caressing his body - the body of her lover, her nephew.



Candace Sanders was, as her husband Al phrased it, "in the mood." In her own words, she was horny. But one did not use such common street language around Al. Al was above such things. Candace contained herself during the campfire dinner that night, waiting until the two families eventually drifted into their various tents. Then she walked to the river and bathed. The bath was the first phase of her plan to seduce her own husband. After all, a woman who smells of a days hiking and campfire smoke isn't the sexiest of women. Tonight, she wanted to be as sexy as she felt. She wanted to be sexy for Al. She had to be sexy for him. Stepping from the chilly current, she briskly toweled herself dry. The soft moonlight played on her body, her skin glowing milk white. She knew she was a small woman, but she also realized she was attractive, not beautiful, but attractive. Her breasts were firm cones, each topped with a plump bud of dark brown pimpled flesh that filled a 36C bra. They weren't the heavy balls of titflesh her sister-in-law Tina sported, but they were perfectly matched for Candace's diminutive figure. She was a small woman just reaching 5'2. The rest of her body was curved and rounded where a woman's body was supposed to be and trim where it was supposed to be. It was the type of figure other women envied, since Candace came by it naturally and kept it that way with little or no effort. It was also a figure that still captured the admiring gazes of men. Yet with Al.

Candace shook her head, her raven black hair tumbling around her shoulders. She didn't want to think about that. Tonight would be different. She'd make it different! Beside the robe she'd placed on the river bank, she found a small bottle of perfume. Carefully, she dabbed droplets on all the vital areas of her body. The fragrance wafted through the air. It was the same perfume she'd worn when Al and she first started dating. This bottle had been purchased to revive whatever had first sparked Al's interest. Capping the bottle, Candace lifted her robe, slipped it on and tied it loosely around her waist so that the neck opened in a wide chevron, exposing a bountiful expanse of titflesh. She wished the robe were one of those wicked, black lacy gowns she'd seen advertised in the magazines, but it was all she had and it would have to serve its purpose. She breathed deeply, filling her lungs, steadying herself. Then she started back to the camp. The fire was no more than glowing embers now. All the tent lanterns were extinguished, except for Al and hers. She tingled with a rush of anticipation, excitement suffusing through her body. Al was waiting for her.

What if this time was like all the rest? No! She refused to consider that possibility. This time would be different. She knew it would. She knew it! Reaching out, Candace lifted the tent's flap and stepped in. Al, in pajamas, was stretched out atop his sleeping bag. He laid aside the paperback he was reading and glanced up to her.

"How was the bath?"

"Lonely," she said, knowing as she said it that Al would never consider their bathing together while on the camping trip. It was hard enough to get him to bathe with her in the privacy of their own home. However, here someone might discover them and conservative Al could never live with that.

"Tired?" He ignored her comment as she knew he would.

"Not that tired," Candace replied, her fingers pulling the sash to the robe. The knot untwined. The folds of fabric fell open, revealing her nakedness beneath. Al's eyes lowered, darting over the invitation of her nudity. Then, a somewhat embarrassed expression on his face, he looked back at her. However, Candace noted the rising bulge beneath the pants of his pajamas, Gooseflesh raced up and down her spine. Moisture crept into the core of her body. Desire grew within her.

"My place or yours?" She smiled, her hand waving to the two sleeping bags. But Al seemed to miss her point.

She didn't let it bother her. Instead, she slipped the robe from her white shoulders and let it drop to the floor of the tent behind her. Slowly, tauntingly, to allow Al's eyes to view her total nakedness, she walked to her sleeping bag, then stretched out on her back. She opened her arms to her husband.

He stared at her seductive pose for a moment, his eyes wide and unblinking. Then he moved. He scurried toward her, his hand fumbling with his pajamas. Hard and stiff, the fat length of his prick shafted from the fly. He wasn't even going to take off his pajamas! She shuddered in disgust.

No! She told herself. If that's the way he wants it, that's the way it will be. I want him in me. This time I'll show him what he can do to a woman. I'll show him what being a man is all about. Al slid atop her, the fabric of his pajamas feeling rough and harsh against the swollen tips of her nipples. She moaned, not in pleasure, but with the crushing weight of his body. Al did nothing to relieve his two hundred pounds. Still she refused to believe this time would be like all the rest. She closed her eyes and waited for his kiss. But no kiss came. Instead she felt his hand awkwardly pushing between her spread thighs, his rough fingers opening the lips of her cunt. And at last the sudden, slicing entry of his prick. Hard and deep, he drove into her. Thick and swollen, the massive stalk of her husband's sex drilled into the hot, lusty pocket of her pussy. She groaned, grateful for the stiff invasion of her wanton body. He felt good. He filled her, his bulky tool stretching the spongy folds of her vagina. She moaned, squeezing down around him. She squeezed, making herself as tight as possible for him, giving him as much pleasure as she could.

"Yesss," she whispered. "God, yes!"

His hips jerked up, his fat prick slithering from the molten recesses of her cunt. She quivered, anticipating the lunging stroke that would drive him back into her. Down he slammed into her. Deeply his manhood sliced into the liquid warmth of her trembling cunt. Her arms wrapped around his back, pulling him tightly to her. She closed her eyes and silently prayed that this would be the time - that this time would be what she wanted and needed. Rapidly now, Al's pelvis rose and fell. In and out his swollen cock pistoned within the willing mouth of her belly. She prayed harder, her own desires rising with each lunging shaft of his prick. Then Al shuddered. His hips thrust down, driving his throbbing lance deeply into the gash of her sex. He trembled, his lust and need gushing from the tip of his cock and flooding into her pussy. For a moment, he lay there atop her, then rose, his limp penis sliding from her body. Without a word, Al crawled back to his sleeping bag. He reached up to extinguish the lantern, then rolled to his side to sleep. It was over. Just like that, it was over! Candace, feeling vulnerable and used, stared up into the blackness filling the tent, trying to stem the flood of tears welling in her eyes. It had been no different than all the times before, no different at all! And she had no idea what to do!



"You shameless bitch!" Peter Chivas chided his wife. "Seducing your own nephew!"

Without a word, Tina ran a hand down over the hardness of her husband's stomach, eventually finding the bone-hard spike of manmeat jutting from his crotch. She squeezed the rigid prick, her fist jacking along its length. The man lying beside her in the double sleeping bag moaned with pleasure.

"And you called me shameless!" She teased him. Her other hand cupped the bag hanging from his balls and toyed with his weighty balls. "You're as hard as a rock!"

He was! But then that was exactly what she expected. Her husband's reaction to her sexual encounters was always the same. Her recounting of what had happened between Jimmy and her beside the mountain pool had been no different. It turned Peter on. That, in turn, was doing all sorts of warm, sexy things within her.

"We're both shameless." Peter chuckled softly, his own hands sliding from her shoulders to caress the billowy ripeness of her tits.

"Mmmmmmm," she cooed softly while his fingers lovingly kneaded the pliant flesh of her breasts. Peter understood her and her needs. When they made love, it was that - love. "Not shameless, free."

They were free, she realized. It was during such moments as this that it became obvious just how free they were. How many women could tell their husbands they had just balled their teenage nephew and find their husbands ready and willing to make love to them? The number she knew could be counted on one finger - her. Tina realized just how lucky she was. For the majority of married couples, she realized, her confession would have brought unreasonable anger which would have led to the divorce court. But for Peter and her, the sharing of their sexual adventures only brought them closer together. It always led to their own love-making, which was the best part. Despite their open marriage and the other sexual partners they both had known, they still loved each other and still found the deepest satisfaction in each other's arms. The extramarital encounters were like icing on the cake.

"Oh!" Peter's fingers found her nipples and scissored around them. A hot, exciting thrill of pain and pleasure rushed through Tina's body. She felt the sleeping buds of flesh come to life, fattening and swelling with desire. Then his mouth was on hers. She opened her lips and accepted the flicking tongue that slithered forward. Playfully, he teased her, taunting at the roof of her mouth and twirling around her own tongue. Gently, she bit down, trapping the cajoling oral digit. Then she sucked, hard and long. Her action was a promise of things to come, a promise she had every intention of fulfilling. To make sure he knew so, she squeezed tightly at the thick stalk of cock she held. Peter moaned, his prick throbbing and twitching in her grasp. When she at last released his tongue, she scooted down, kissing her way over his neck, chest and stomach, moving toward the target of her desire. She felt Peter throw back the top of the sleeping bag, giving her more room to maneuver, as well as giving him room to roll onto his back. She lifted her head a bit and tenderly kissed the plum-like crown of his cock. He trembled beside her, quivering with arousal. She smiled to herself, knowing the pleasure she gave to the man at her side. With mounting relish, she ran her moist tongue over the swollen head of his sex. She bathed the surging knob, licking and laving it, enjoying its smooth, yet demanding feel. When her tongue returned to her mouth, she tasted him. It was a taste that only served to stoke the flames of her want. It was a slightly saline flavor she had come to love during her years with this man. Her lips parted wide, then wider. Her head tilted forward once again. Down onto the pulsing shaft of sex she moved. Over the velvet carpet of her tongue she took him, accepting the ponderous mass of his cock. She swallowed him, his cockhead throbbing against the back of her throat. Then she sucked. Pulling upward she sucked, her cheeks hollowing. The man beside her moaned. His groin tightened. She felt as his balls rose in the wrinkled sac she still held. Downward she moved again, the length of his cock filling her face, moving into her throat, then upward, sucking at his fat root. She loved the feel of him, the virile life that throbbed within this fleshy column of pleasure.

It would have been enough to just lie there, feeling him within the shelter of her mouth. But it was not enough for her husband. As she eased up the rigid prick of his prick once again, Peter managed to swing himself around, his head ducking between the spread of her satin thighs. She moaned around the mouthful of cock she sucked when his lips pressed against the womanly knoll of her shaven pubis. While her tongue and lips busied themselves with the enormous length of his cock, his lips and tongue eagerly began to work on her cunt. Warm and moist, the feathery touch of his tongue taunted at pink slit of her pussy. Up and down he ran his cajoling oral digit, teasing over the plump lips of her labia, but never delving into the moist crease of her sex. Electric thrills coursed through her. She moaned, sucking harder at the pulsating pole of cock filling her face. As if her own eagerness spurred him on, his tongue suddenly speared inward. Like a miniature penis, he slid it into the moist heat of her cunt. In an involuntary reaction, her pelvis pushed forward, helping his oral impalement. Swirling sensations of sexual heat radiated out from the hot core of her body. His tongue licked over the folds of her cunt. He toyed with her, feeding the flames of desire rising in her body. In and out his marvelous tongue worked. He ate at her, sucking away the constant flow of female juices flooding the cleft of her loins. Simultaneously, his hips began to rock back and forth. While he flicked her with his tongue, he was fucking her face with his cock. She welcomed and accepted the gentle pistoning of his prong. She sucked and licked at his unbending cock, eating at him while his tongue reamed the hot socket of her desire. Thicker and more swollen, he seemed to grow within her mouth. It seemed he would grow until her jaws cracked, grow until he filled mouth and throat with his pulsing presence. But she did not abandon the needy lance of his sex. His swelling need only served to increase her desire to please him, her want to satisfy the man so expertly eating her pussy. Hard and thick, a knot grew at the hairy base of his cock. She sucked, feeling the knot begin to move upward. His loins tightened and retightened while be fought to prolong the inevitable outcome of her oral caresses. Higher and higher the knot pushed up his length, moving over her tongue, then her lips. Then it happened, the moment she had been waiting for.

He exploded, releasing the thin juice of his loins into her mouth. She sucked at him, gulping down the milky juices of his lust. Jet after jet of cum blasted into her face and she swallowed them, sucking at his twitching stalk, drinking away every opal drop. When she had drained him, she sucked some more just to be sure. Like a soft, moist whip, his tongue now licked in and out of his pussy. He drilled into her, eating and laving around in the spongy folds of her cunt. Up and down, his oral digit lashed within the pink slash of her womanhood, taunting the extended nubbin of her clitoris. She moaned and quaked with hot waves of growing passion each time his tongue brushed that button of ultimate pleasure. Writhing beside him, she made no attempt to contain her need. She spread her legs wider, allowing his tongue to dip deeper into the heated groove of her sex. She groaned, urging him on, urging him to bring her to full release. It was a task he accepted with relish. His animated tongue whipped around, reaming into the heated tunnel of desire. He drilled into her. He fucked her, fucked her with his ever-moving tongue. Flowing with the swirling sensations of abandoned lust, she rose higher and higher. She groaned and trembled. She whimpered and cried in pleasure. Then she came, her world exploding in white-hot ecstasy, while his tongue ran around and around within the contracting pocket of her vagina. Somewhere through the showering cascades of glittering colors filling her mind, she realized he withdrew from her. She felt him move beside her, but could not tell exactly what he was doing. Then it happened! Hard and long, he invaded her body. His cock, throbbing its demanding need, rushed into the trembling gash of her cunt. His pelvis slammed into hers. His balls bounced against the upturned curves of her ass.

"My God!" She heard herself moan. "Fuck me. Fuck me!"

He gave her no time to descend from the plateaus of pleasure his tonguing had sent her to. His cock now dominated everything. His fantastically rigid penis controlled her body. She was his to do with as he pleased. What he pleased was to fuck her! Upward his hips moved. Outward he drug his prick, pausing just a moment for her to feel the pulsing thickness of his cock crown as it throbbed at the entrance of her cunt. Then he shafted down.

"Ahhhaarrggahh!" She groaned in deep-throated lust.

Balls-deep, he packed her pussy to the brim with inflexible, demanding cock. She tightened herself around him, trying to squeeze every fold of her cunt so that she fit his massive contours like a glove, so that her pussy squeezed him like a third hand. Her effort did not go unnoticed. She felt him quiver beneath the intensity of her carnal grip. She heard the low moan of pleasure escape his lips. Again his hips swung up. She relaxed and prepared for the rigid impalement she knew would once more come thrusting into her soaring body. Burrowing hard and deep, his wand of joy pistoned into the furrow of her sex.

"Yesss! Yes, you marvelous stud!" She cried out in her lusty fervor. "Fuck me! Drive that beautiful cock all the way back into my mouth!"

He tried his damnedest to do just that. His pelvis jumped, then plummeted. Swollen and throbbing, his cock speared into the liquid heat of her cunt. Her body was jarred under the heavy impact of his deep-grinding stroke.

"Deeper," she urged him. "I want you deeper."

His hips thrust harder, but he penetrated her no deeper. She remedied the situation herself. Drawing her knees upward, so that her feet were flat on the floor of the tent, she increased the angle of his attack. Inward the pounding pole of his cock rammed, reaching the deeper recesses of her pussy, satisfying the mounting wants of her greedy body. Even in her somewhat confining position, she could not remain inactive. She moved her pelvis in a swaying motion, undulating herself around the skewering stalk of his prick. She hunched back and forth, matching herself to the rhythm of his rising and falling hips. She came, pulling at his buttocks, trying to draw him into her body. But he did not stop. Nor did her consuming passion for the man mounted atop her body. Before she could recover from the waves of pleasure released during her climax, her body was already soaring upward toward yet another level of carnal ecstasy. In and out, the never-ceasing prick of his cock filled her quaking cunt. Out and in he plummeted, fucking her with ruthless fury. She accepted him, welcoming the almost brutal plunges of his rigid cock. She welcomed him, urging him on, whispering her love and need for him and his magnificent prick. She came again, then again, before she felt the mounting closeness of the man skewering her with his swollen root. Now she went to work, bringing him the pleasure he had given her. She squeezed and relaxed the edacious mouth of her belly. She milked him, drawing up the seed that boiled in his loins. She hunched into the persistent prick of manmeat he fed into her body. She fucked with a vigor to match his.

Suddenly he groaned, loud and long. His body quaked as he threw himself into her, burying the full length of his prick in the caressing folds of her pussy. His body went rigid. He came. Hot spurts of cum blasted from the slit mouth of his prick. She felt him, throbbing and twitching beneath the strength of his release. He groaned as spew after spew of pleasure gushed from the aching depths of his balls. He filled her cunt with his molten seed until it oozed from the pink lips of her pussy and trickled down her thighs. Then he dwindled atop her, panting with the powerful sensations of his climax. She held him tightly, lovingly. This was the man she loved; this was her man. No matter how many lovers they both took, they would always be man and wife. Warm satisfaction filled her and tears of fulfillment welled in her eyes.



"It gets easier each day," Tina said. "I thought it would be harder the farther we hiked."

Peter Chivas looked up at his wife and smiled. "You're just enjoying it more. It's easy to forget the hard work when you're in this forest. It's so damn beautiful. We should've thought of doing this years ago."

"The work's not over for me," Tina replied. "Tonight is my night to do the cooking. Now I've got to see if I can talk somebody into helping me get a fire going."

"Somehow I think that somebody is this body." Peter raised an eyebrow and gave his wife the sternest stare he could muster. The effort was wasted. Tina only laughed and kissed him. He shrugged his shoulders. "You win. Give me a few moments to gather some wood and I'll have you the finest blaze going this side of the Mississippi."

"Hey, I don't want a forest fire, just a few flames for dinner!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Peter grinned, slipping his backpack to the ground, then walking towards the woods.

Tina was right. After six hours on the trail, he still felt capable of going another hour or two. The first few days he would have never believed such vigor possible. There was something to be said for getting away from the city. He was rapidly finding himself becoming an addict to backpacking along these wilderness trails. It didn't seem to be hurting his family any. Tina had more color in her cheeks than he'd seen in years. His daughter Linda was getting one of the most golden tans he'd ever seen, he thought glancing at the young girl busily setting up a tent. He glanced around the campsite, trying to find his son. Spence was nowhere in sight. Nor was his step-cousin Anne as a matter of fact, Peter realized. A movement to his left drew his attention. He smiled to himself. It was Spence and Anne. The two were quietly slipping off into the woods together.

Damn fine pair those two, he thought, his smile growing to a grin. Spence was turning into quite a man. He was muscled like an athlete and growing taller each day. Anne, well, there was no other way to describe her; Anne was a woman. Despite only being nineteen, the young brunette had already developed all the curves and bulges of womanhood in all the right places. Peter couldn't blame Spence for wanting to get Anne off alone and make a kissing cousin out of her. Kissing cousin, he chuckled. It was a sign of his age. If he knew his son, there was more than kissing on Spence's mind. Again, he couldn't blame Spence. If he were a bit younger, Peter realized, he would be doing his damnedest to get into Anne's pants. The young girl was getting to the age where she needed a man. With a wistful shake of his head, Peter watched the couple disappear amid the forest undergrowth, then returned to his task of building a fire.


Little bitch, Al Sanders glared at his daughter, cursing himself as much as he cursed Anne. It had been against his better judgment to come on this trip. Spence was turning into a young stud and Anne was at that age. He had known something like this would develop. Why hadn't he taken his own advice and begged off taking his family along with the Chivas family? Peter and Tina were just too loose with their children. They weren't the type of people he wanted Anne and Jimmy to be around. If Peter weren't Candace's brother, he'd punch him in the nose.

"Al, could you give me a hand?" Candace's voice interrupted his thoughts. He turned to find his wife trying to raise their tent.

Without comment, he glanced away from Spence and Anne and walked to his wife. When he looked back, the couple had vanished in the woods. He cursed under his breath. If anything happened between those two, Peter and Tina would have to answer for it! The morals of the country might be deteriorating, but within the Sanders family, he would see that the old ways were upheld.

"Al, please!" Candace pleaded, once again interrupting his concentration.

Silently he helped Candace raise the tent, cursing her in his mind. Candace was no better than Peter and Tina. She should be able to see what was happening between Anne and Spence. She should take Anne aside and explain the facts of life to her. Tell her how important it is for a young girl to remain a virgin until her marriage night. Tell her how men consider loose women to be nothing better than prostitutes. Candace would never do that. Candace couldn't even control her own desires. He still found it hard to believe that she had been so forward last night. He should have been stronger and resisted her, but the temptation of the flesh had been too strong for him.

"Thank you, Al." Candace walked to his side and kissed his cheek.

"When do you think dinner will be ready?" He asked, ignoring his wife's show of affection.

Candace stared at him a moment, then shook her head. "Peter's just getting the wood together. Should be at least another hour."

He nodded, then walked off to the shade of a towering oak, lowering himself to the ground. There was time for a short nap. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. But the thought of Anne and Spence alone in the woods kept returning to his mind, haunting him. What could they be doing out there alone? Why were they gone so long? He knew. Damn it, he knew. His own daughter was out there giving her body away just like a whore. His own daughter! He couldn't stand it. He had to stop her before she went too far. She wouldn't understand it now. But later, after she had matured, she would thank him for protecting her.

Al opened his eyes and looked around. Candace, Peter and Tina were all busy around the campfire. Jimmy and his cousin Linda were sitting nearby, talking. Nobody would even notice he left. Quickly, he scrambled to his feet and ducked into the forest where he had last seen Anne and Spence. He had no idea where the young couple had gone off to, but he was going to give it his best to find them and stop his daughter before she did something she would regret the rest of her life. Pushing his way through clump after clump of bushes, Al worked deeper into the forest. He stopped after about ten minutes and looked around him. There was no sign of the two. Despite his good intentions, he suddenly realized how useless his search was. Anne and Spence could be anywhere. A light, laughing sound came from his left. He cocked his head, but it stopped. Had it been a bird, his imagination? No!

The laughter came again. It was coming from off to his left. He smiled and began to follow the sound. His steps were cautious now. He was nearly on tip-toes, trying to be as quiet as possible. If the young couple were just sitting and talking, he didn't want them to know he was there. However, if they were. Al stopped, freezing in mid-stride. There, just beyond the break of the bushes he was in, he could see Anne and Spence. Slowly sucking in his breath, he reached out and parted the branches of the bush and peered at the couple. His worse fears were realized. Anne was wrapped in Spence's young arms. They were kissing - their mouths opened to one another. Worse yet, Anne's blouse and bra were on the ground at her feet. Indignation swelled within him. Moral outrage and anger burned in his mind. He had to stop Anne, had to save her from herself. Had to. Al stepped forward, then froze again. Something within him, something that confused him, made him freeze again. He stood staring at the young couple, unable to take his eyes from them.

"Mmmmmm," Anne moaned softly when her lips parted from Spence's. "I've been waiting for that all day. I didn't think we'd ever get away from the others."

"Neither did I," Spence said as the young brunette eased from his arms, moving back a step or two. "But the wait was worth it."

"Are you sure?" Anne smiled coyly at her step cousin. "What if I'm not in the mood?"

"It would be the first time since that night you spent with us when Aunt Candace and your father were on their honeymoon." He chided her, his eyes roving over her body.

Al's eyes widened. It was too late to save his daughter. This boy had already seduced her - months ago - and right under the eyes of Peter and Tina. He should have expected as much. Peter and Tina were....

Al's thoughts suddenly faded. Anne turned toward him. Her naked breasts bobbed a bit drawing his eyes. Beautiful! His thought shocked him. This was his own daughter! Yet, her young, firm tits were beautiful. So young and vulnerable looking. They were twin cones that jutted from her chest. Each slightly upturned tip sported a fleshy brown nipple. And around each was a halo of lighter brown skin, skin so stretched with the fullness of her breasts that it was sleek and shining in the light filtering down through the trees.

"You're awful sure of yourself," Anne said.

"No more than you are of yourself," Spence said with a wide grin. "We both know what we want. Neither one of us is kidding the other."

"And what I want right now is to feel you inside me," Anne said. "I want to feel you making love to me!"

Al watched still unable to move, his lurid fascination growing when his daughter's hands drifted to the tops of her jeans. Without fumbling, the young brunette popped the snap to her blue jeans and unzipped them. Her fingers tucked under the tops and with a provocative wiggle worked the jeans down to step out of when they were around her ankles. She stood for a minute, wearing nothing but a skimpy pair of yellow bikini panties, her head turning to her step cousin. The boy's own attention was directed to peeling away his T-shirt and skinning down his own jeans. Al stared at his daughter. Her legs were long and tan, shapely carves and inviting, sleek thighs - thighs he now knew were no strangers to the feel of a man. Something stirred within him with that realization, something he tried to ignore, buried deep at the back of his mind. It was something that refused to remain buried, as his eyes rose up to the temptation of his daughter's legs, delving into the inviting "Y" of her crotch. There, beneath the thin fabric of her panties, he could see the dark patch of her pubic hair - the bulging mound of her womanhood. His groin tightened with lust, with want for the forbidden treasure of her young body. He tried to fight such thoughts, to push them from his mind. But his own body betrayed him. He felt the stiffness of lust creeping into his cock, lengthening it, swelling it. His eyes darted to Spence. The boy stripped away his jockey shorts and stood naked before his step cousin. His own arousal was more than apparent. Hard and long, his young nine and a half inch prick shafted out from his groin at a 45-degree angle. It was not the penis of a boy, but that of a man. Its blood-engorged head glistened with crystal droplets of precum. The same juices that now moistened the tip of Al's shaft.

Anne's eyes were riveted to the thick stalk of cock twitching and jerking in the air. Her mouth parted and her tongue flicked over her lips, wetting them. Her nostrils flared with arousal and a determined expression moved across her face. With her step cousin's eyes following her every move, she slipped her fingers beneath the elastic of her panties and languidly squirmed from them. As she bent to free them from her ankles, her tits swung from her chest, swaying like ripe, young orbs. Then she stood, giving the young man standing before her an unobstructed view of her nakedness. The same view was shared by her father, still hidden in the bushes. Al's loins were tense and hot. His cock was rigid, bone-hard with lust. It strained at his pants, as though it were going to rip through the fabric.

"Come here," he heard Spence whisper.

Anne responded, moving into the arms of her step cousin with eager alacrity. Her arms encircled his waist. She pressed her unashamed nakedness against his body. His own arms encircled her and they kissed, their mouths once more opening to each other. Anger and lust burning within him, Al watched. He could see his daughter clearly. He could see her work a thigh against the fat length of her step cousin's cock and rub against it. A silvery trail of precum glistened on her leg, shining in the afternoon sun. They were pressed together so tightly! Her young breasts flattened against Spence's chest, their contours flattening out and bulging at the sides. He could almost feel the stiff young nipples that were digging into the young man's chest, felt their hardness against his own flesh. His flesh against the flesh of his daughter. He shuddered with desire and revulsion. Father and daughter together, it was unthinkable! Unthinkable! Yet the thought would not leave his mind. He watched as the youth ran a hand down Anne's side, drifting over her thigh for a moment. Then, with Al's eyes glued to its movement, the hand eased between her legs. The young brunette's thighs spread, widening themselves for her step cousin's intimate caress. She moaned with desire as his fingertips wove through the soft, brown down covering her vulva. Then she groaned when the hand suddenly clamped down and squeezed the womanly mound of her sex. He kneaded at her, massaging the plump, fleshy gateway to her body. Moving on its own accord, her body responded. Her hips undulated and swayed in little hunching motions. She rubbed herself into his palm, sighing with the pleasure his expert manipulation was creating within her cunt.

Eventually, when he felt the moist, warm flow of her juices well from the lips of her cunt and dampen his palm, Spence stopped his kneading. While his mouth covered hers and his tongue thrust toward her throat, he tickled a finger up into the hot confines of the girl's pussy. Anne moaned, her body squirming atop the impaling digit. Deeper the finger entered her, sinking all the way to the third knuckle. Her young hips hunched. She fucked herself on her step cousin's finger. Easing back from the sexy brunette, Spence used his free hand to cup one of the tempting cones of tit-flesh. He squeezed his fingers into the pliant flesh, molding it, kneading it. The girl quaked, trembling with mounting need. Her lips parted from his and her head arched back, lolling on her shoulders. Immediately, the young man's head ducked to her chest. His mouth opened wide and captured the alluring tip of her unoccupied breast. His cheeks hollowed deeply as he sucked. His step cousin arched her back a bit, pushing her chest into his face, smothering him in the luxury of her fleshy treasures. So wanton, Al couldn't believe his daughter was so wanton. She was a vessel of lust, a chalice of carnal pleasure. She gave herself to her step cousin, enjoying his obvious knowledge of her young body. Goose bumps rippled up and down her spine while Spence's finger, slick with womanly lubricants, eased in and out of the pink lips of her cunt. She moaned as the young man's lips and tongue nibbled at the delicate morsel of her young nipple.  While Al watched, his daughter's hands drifted down to the youth's crotch. Her long, graceful fingers toyed over the rigid length of his cock. Lightly her fingertips played over the bludgeoning pole. She teased at the swollen cockhead; up and down she stroked, tracing the thick vein running the length of the underside of the lust-engorged prick.

She reached between her step cousin's thighs to allow his ball bag to nestle in her open palm. Lovingly, her fingers moved over the wrinkled sac. The youth trembled, his knees weakening under the onslaught of sensations brought by her intimate caresses. Al's own balls ached just watching his daughter's expert hands. He could feel the coolness of her fingers gliding up and down the swollen length of his own cock. He trembled at the thought of her fingertips testing his ball bag, feeling the weight of his balls. His own hand moved down to the crotch of his pants to rub at the straining length pushing from his groin. Then he realized what he had done and pulled his hand back. It was wrong! A father should not have such desires for his daughter. They were unnatural lusts, forbidden desires. Still, his body was on fire. He realized that he wanted to be Spence, to be the one standing in his daughter's arms.

"In me," he heard Anne moan in a husky, lustful voice. "I want to feel this in me."

Her hands clamped around the fleshy salami her step cousin sported. She jacked at its throbbing presence as if to be sure he understood what she wanted. There were no problems in communications. With one last kiss to her tantalized breast, Spence's head lifted. Then he eased his entrenched finger from the wet lips of her pussy. The young brunette lowered herself to the grass, stretching out on her back. Her thighs, smooth and satiny, spread in an open invitation. Her pubic moss now glistened wetly with the juices of her own arousal. Beneath that soft fur, her pussy waited, its plump lips slightly pouting in anticipation. The young man stood over her, his eyes taking in the feast of his step cousin's wanton body. Her breasts were like shimmering domes, satin-covered pillows with a stiff button jutting from the center of each.

"Please," Anne pleaded. "It's getting late. The others will wonder where we are."

Spence needed no further encouragement. He sank to his knees between the provocative spread of the teenager's thighs and carefully lowered himself atop her body, supporting the majority of his weight on his elbows. With no word of instruction, the brunette reached down between his legs and grasped the stiff pole of his prick. Deftly, she glided the fat crown to the waiting mouth of her belly. From there, the youth took control. Slowly, he pushed forward. Inch by swollen inch, his pulsing shaft sank into the wet harbor of her young cunt. Deeper and deeper he delved into the willing socket of her sex, burying himself to the hilt. Greedily, the young girl's hips arched up, as if trying to swallow his balls as well as the club-like length of his shaft. Al could no longer stand it. His self-control crumbled. Standing there, his hands dropped to the fly of his trousers, fingering and fumbling open the fly. Painfully, he managed to extract the unbending prick straining for freedom. Hard and rigid it came from his pants, throbbing and jerking with need. He grasped it and stroked, his rhythm matching the steady in and out motion of Spence's hips, as the youth fed his daughter a full meal of cockmeat. In the young man plunged, sinking all the way into the pink slit of his step cousin's hungry body. The girl beneath him quaked, coming alive with the presence of his prick. She whimpered in pleasure, her hips writhing and undulating beneath him. He pulled out, the tight mouth of her young snatch tightened around him like an elastic ring, sucking at him. The scalloped inner lips of her labia flowered outward following the slithering hardness of his cock. Then he stroked inward folding the pinkness of her pussy back on itself. She was consumed by the feel of that meaty rail of flesh. Al could see that on her face. His daughter wore an expression of complete ecstasy. Her red lips writhed as moan after moan escaped from the depths of her throat. Her hands clutched at her step cousin's ass, fingers digging into the taut ovals of his asscheeks. She pulled at him, trying to bring him even deeper into her willing young body. She urged him on, whispering and groaning out the full lust she felt. While Anne's father watched, Spence suddenly lowered himself atop her, his full weight pinning her to their grassy bed. Reaching down, the youth's arms slid beneath her legs. His elbows hooked under the back of her knees, pulling her legs upward toward her chest.

"God!" The teenager cried out in abandon. "Sweet God! It feels so damn good! Like you're going to the heart of my soul!"

Al's hand tightened on his cock, jacking at it. He could see how deeply the youth poled into the sweet, pink pocket of his daughter's pussy. In and out the swollen prick plummeted, glistening with the moisture of the girl's depths. Like a rutting bull, Spence drove into the snatch of his step cousin. Deep and hard he stroked, giving a full measure of pleasure to the young temptress beneath him. It was not a one-sided affair. The brunette responded with fervent eagerness. She twisted and writhed under him. She squeezed and hunched as much as possible. Her unbridled carnal needs were raging out of control. She came, her whole body shuddering as the flood of unleashed desire swept through every cell of her body. She came, quaking and quivering beneath the skewering thrusts of the young man's cock. Then, her pleasure sated, Spence released the lust boiling within his balls. He came, groaning as the rush of liquid pleasure erupted from his loins and splattered into the greedy mouth of the girl's pussy. Still hidden from the couple in the bush, Al shuddered. White cum jetted into empty air from his cock, while his hand jerked up and down on his prick. Relief flooded through his body. He broke the enchantress' spell his daughter's wanton body had caught him in. He was free of her haunting beauty and the desires of the flesh. But he still felt the shame of wanting her. The couple moaned. He turned to them. Spence was now lifting himself from Anne's supine body; his deflated prick slithered from the cum-drenched gash of her cunt.

What if they should discover him here, like this, holding his prick, jacking himself off? Al could not bear that, could not live with the thought of his daughter knowing the carnal desires he felt for her, the lust he felt to know her alluring body. Realizing he had stood there watching them, no better than a common peeking Raymond, he was suddenly flustered and embarrassed. Panic gripped him for a moment, as he was unsure what to do. He couldn't go rushing back into camp like this, his cock dangling from his pants and his hand smeared with his own release. What could he do? He remembered the handkerchief in his back pocket. Pulling it free, he wiped his penis and hand clean of cum. Then he tossed the soiled cloth into the bushes, knowing he could never use it again after it had touched his cock. Quickly he tucked the snake-like hose of his prick back into his trousers and zipped up the fly. With one last glance at the young couple now reaching for their clothes, Al quietly began to work his way back to the campsite.



Al's attention was homed in on Anne during dinner that night. The young girl sat close to Spence, her thigh pressing his, or a hand brushing over his. Her attention belonged solely to Spence. Al was aware of that fact whether the others were or not. Her father's attention was on her. Though not now as she was seated there, but on the image of her naked body so willingly receiving Spence's young cock. It was an image that refused to leave Al's mind. After returning to camp, he had tried to lose it by reading, then by eating, but the vision persisted, haunted him, taunted him. Nothing he could do would shake the tantalizing picture in his mind's eye. He said little during dinner and even less as he and Candace retired to their tent. While his wife gathered her towel and soap for her nightly bath in the river, he waited. When she left the tent, he quickly slipped into his pajamas and stretched out his sleeping bag. He didn't try the book again, realizing it wouldn't help. Damn, he cursed. His daughter was no better than a two-bit street walker and he couldn't get her out of his thoughts. He couldn't bury the tempting vision of her ripe young body just lying there in the grass, thighs opened and ready to take the thick, long, hard length of her step cousin's prick. Lust stirred in him, reawakening in his loins. He felt the throbbing need coursing through his groin. His cock was rising, twitching and jerking with desire - desire for his own daughter - a desire he could never fulfill - a desire that was forbidden to him.

Damn! He was a haunted man. His carnal lusts had betrayed him. All his life, he had lived as he had been taught by his parents. They had been strict, but they had shown him the path of right. It was a path he had treaded all his life - until now. Now there was Anne, his own daughter, a temptation that rocked his very soul. The tent opened and Candace stepped in. He looked up. His eyes scanned her body hungrily, realizing that he hoped she was in the mood as she had been last night. But his wife wore a nightgown beneath her robe.

"The water was nice," Candace said, slipping off her robe and moving to her sleeping bag. "You should really try it with me one night, Al."

"Candace..." His throat was dry, his words sticking in his throat.

"Yes," Candace turned to him.

"Candace, I..." He wanted to say he wanted her, wanted to fuck her, but he couldn't. "Candace, I'm in the mood."

She glanced away. "Al, we've got to talk, We've got to work out..."

"Candace, I'm in the mood." He repeated. "We can talk later."

"No, Al! We've got to talk now."

He didn't listen to her. Instead he moved to her sleeping bag. "I'm your husband!"

"And I'm your wife," she said. "Doesn't that mean anything? I'm more than just a hole for you to put your prick in when the mood strikes you. I'm a person, a human being, a woman who feels! Until we get our problems worked out."

"I'm your husband!" He glared at her, reaching out and pinning her shoulders to the ground. "And I demand a husband's right with his wife!"

"No, Al! I don't want to, not now."

She struggled to get away from him, but she was a small woman. He held her there without effort.

"I'm your husband. You owe me this, it's mine!"

"It'll be rape." Candace stared up at him. "Is that the way you want your wife?"

"A husband can't rape his wife. She's his and her body is his!"

"Is that what you believe? Is that what you really think?"

"Yes," his voice was low and deep, like the growl of an animal. "And I'm going to get what's mine!"

Suddenly, she went limp beneath him, tears welling in her eyes. "All right, Al. If that's the way you want it."

Then she was silent, staring up to the roof of the tent, her eyes never turning to him. He didn't care. All she had to do was just lie there. Reaching down, he hiked her nightgown up around her waist bunching it there. She was naked beneath it. The muff covering her cunt was shining black, the pink lips of her sex under the furry covering. It wasn't the soft, light brown moss of Anne's pussy, but it would serve to relieve the burning fires of his groin. He fumbled with the fly of his pajamas. The hardened length of his prick sprung out, jerking in the air. Gripping the blood- engorged shaft, he lowered himself atop his wife's body. She didn't move, but just lay there completely still. In the next instant, he pressed his cockhead against the lips of her cunt. His hips jerked, knifing his lance into the socket of her belly. Candace cried out under the brutal entry, then she was silent again. She felt different to him. The warmth and moisture he was accustomed to finding within her body were missing. She was dry. He didn't care. He hunched into her, drilling his rigid shaft into the depths of her cunt. His swollen balls were on fire, consuming his loins. He took his wife, fucking her while in his mind he ravaged the body of his teenage daughter. Harder and harder he pumped himself into the furrow of his wife's sex, until at last he found the release of his lust. Hot and thick, cum gushed from his balls. He emptied himself into the motionless socket of her cunt. Blast after blast of cum spewed from the end of his prick, filling Candace's pussy with his seed, filling her as he wanted to drain his lust into Anne's tight, pink-lipped pussy. He shuddered and moaned under the fiery force of his release. Then he lay there atop the limp body of his wife, sated. When at last his cock deflated, he lifted himself from the woman under him and moved back to his sleeping bag. Without a glance back to the woman he left there, gown still crumpled around her waist, he pulled the top of the sleeping bag over him and rolled over. Al Sanders was asleep within minutes.



Candace was unsure just how long she lay there. She stared at the roof of the tent, feeling the wetness of her husband's release trickling from the lips of her vagina and running down her thighs. She shuddered. For the first time in her life, she felt used and degraded. The fluids of Al's climax felt dirty on and within her. Never had she seen sex to be anything but a beautiful experience shared by a man and a woman. Now, now she felt no better than a whore. No, not even a whore; at least men seek prostitutes for pleasure. Al could have found no pleasure in the way he used her body, only relief. He could have used his hand for that! She became aware of the heavy snoring within the tent. She rolled her head to the side and stared at the man sleeping across from her - her husband. She shuddered again. Husband! Never had that word seemed so strange, so alien. Always the word husband had brought warm feelings to her. A husband was a man to share a life with, someone to love.

Had she ever loved Al? Yes, she had loved him. After Raymond's death, she had thought she would never be able to love another man. But when Al came along, he was so gentle and tender. He filled a hollowness within her. She gave him her love, a love he professed to share. He had asked her to marry him. Six months ago, they had taken the marriage vows. For better or worse. It had only gotten worse. The first few times, she had considered Al's love-making to be caused by the newness of her, his excitement. But after the honeymoon nothing changed, except that Al approached her but once a week. Then it was only to mount her and sate himself. It was like the old joke about the rabbit - wham-bam, thank you ma'am. She had once thought that was funny. Now it was only frustrating. For six months she had clung to the hope that things would change. But nothing did. No matter what she tried, Al was the same. He entered her body, came, then pulled from her only to roll to his side and go to sleep. Never once were there preliminary kisses, gentle caresses, exploring each other's bodies. Never whispered words of endearment or even a "thank you" when he had finished. It was simply on and off, leaving her aching for sexual release - for love.

Tonight, though - tonight had been the worst. Candace choked back her tears. Tears would only be wasted on Al. In their six months together, she had done more than her share of crying. It never helped anything. Never. Al didn't even notice. Something had to be done. But what? She didn't know. Everything was too confusing.

Al continued to snore. Anger and frustration grew within her. She pushed up and stood. To remain in the tent with him was too much for her to endure. She had to leave, get away by herself until she could think this out and hopefully find a solution. The air was cool outside, cool and clean. Yet it did nothing to remove the dirty feeling she had. Quietly walking from the camp, Candace moved toward the river bank. She stood there a moment watching the gentle current. Then hiking her gown, she stepped into the water. She waded out until the water washed around her knees. Then reaching down, she scooped out handful after handful of the chilly water and bathed herself. Carefully she washed the silvery sperm tracks from her thighs, then cleansed the matted hairs of her public mound. Last of all, she washed out her vagina as best she could, removing every trace of Al's ejaculation, washing out the dirty feel of his seed. She felt better now, cleaner, free of Al. Standing straight, she slowly walked back to the shore and stared at the tents. To go back now would be too much. She couldn't endure the thought of returning to Al. But where could she go? Nowhere. There was nowhere she could run to escape Al. She was amid one of the largest wilderness areas in the country and there was no place she could lose herself. The thought was too much for her. The past six months and all she had endured came rushing back to fill her brain. She dropped to her knees and cried.

The sound of sobbing invaded Peter Chivas' sleep. For a moment he lay there half-awake, wondering if the crying was something left in his mind by an unremembered dream. Then he realized the sobs were real; a woman was crying. Sitting up, he glanced to his side. Tina was nestled within their sleeping bag. The warmth of her naked body was assuring. Easing back the top of the sleeping bag, he quietly slipped out. In the dark, he managed to find his blue jeans and pull them on without too much difficulty. The crying was still there. For some reason it sounded familiar. However, he was sure the sobs didn't belong to his daughter Linda. He had nursed her through too many adolescent heartbreaks not to recognize the sound of her crying. Yet somehow he knew the sound of those tears.

Tiptoeing to the front of the tent, so as not to disturb Tina, Peter stepped out into the night. He glanced around the campsite, but could not locate the source of the sobs. His eyes moved around the edge of forest, but saw nothing except shadows and trees. Walking away from his tent, he moved toward the river. There he saw her, his sister Candace, kneeling on the bank, holding her head in her hands and crying. Immediately, his strides lengthened into a trot. Within seconds he was beside her, kneeling and taking her into his arms. Her own arms encircled him, holding him tightly.

"Peter," she managed to say between her sobs.

"Little sister," he whispered; his hand caressed the raven blackness of her hair. "What's the matter? What's wrong with my little sister?"

She shook her head, nestling into the hollow of his shoulder. "Nothing."

"Hey now, all these tears can't be over just nothing." His voice was gentle and soothing. "Remember me; I'm your big brother."

She sniffed a bit, her head lifting to him. Her eyes were red and tears streamed down her face, but she managed a little smile. "And my big brother Peter could always make things better?"

"Now, I never claimed to be able to do the impossible." He chuckled, hoping to cheer her. "But I've always tried to help when I could."

"Peter, oh, Peter."

Candace broke into sobs again. Her body shuddered violently. There was nothing he could do now, except to hold her and let her have her cry. Which is what he did. At least fifteen minutes passed before Candace quieted again. She clung to him even longer, before eventually easing back. Her head did not rise, but she stared out, watching the river.

"Feel better?" Peter asked, his hand squeezing his sister's.

"Just cried out," Candace said. "There's no more tears left in me. I was surprised there were this many after this long. I thought they were all gone."

After this long? Peter wasn't sure what she meant. "Would it help to talk about it?"

"Talk it over like we used to when we were kids?" Candace glanced at him, then back to the river. "I don't know if it would help. We're not kids any more. We've both grown up and have got families of our own now. We don't have the same problems we had when we were kids. God, how simple all those worries seem now, whether or not Billy Smith was going to take me to the prom, what dress to wear to the after-game dance. So simple, almost ridiculous now."

"They weren't ridiculous then," Peter answered. "And I don't think what's bothering you now is ridiculous. Times change and so do the problems."

"But you don't, do you, Peter?" Candace looked at him, her dark eyes pleading. "You're still the same, still my big brother Peter, steady and strong, and willing to lend his little sister a sympathetic ear."

"I don't think that'll ever change. After all, you are my sister and I do still love you."

Candace leaned to him and kissed his cheek. "I know. But it's hard to bare one's soul, even to a brother. Especially when it has to do with something this personal."

"Al?"

She nodded. "Is it that obvious?"

"No. Just a guess. There's not many things that will get a woman up in the middle of the night. A husband happens to be one of those things though."

"I don't know where to start," Candace said. "In some ways, it seems like this has been going on forever. But Al and I have been married for only six months..."

Peter listened. It hurt to hear everything his sister revealed. Yet, it wasn't that unusual a story, a husband that used his wife, no matter what the reason. The age of sexual freedom wasn't that free. People still had sexual hang-ups and it seemed the majority of those people were men. Al just happened to be one of them. What hurt was that he was married to Candace, and she, in turn, had suffered from his sickness. The usual story was one of possession - a wife is a husband's property, or vice versa. It's hard to accept one's spouse as a human being, despite everything lovers proclaim to one another. Marriage and that legal slip of paper two people sign often is thought to mean "you belong to me, lock, stock and barrel." To be owned by another person makes the owned person nothing but chattel, something to be used. As Peter listened, he realized there was something deeper wrong with Al, something that went beyond the normal property hang-ups usually shared by married couples. Exactly what his problem was eluded Peter. He wasn't a trained psychiatrist and a man that treated his wife that way obviously needed help.

"That's it," Candace said. "I don't know what to do. I've tried everything I could think of and it's all fallen on its face. Damn it, when I'm around Al, I don't even feel like a woman any more."

"You're still a woman," Peter whispered, pulling his sister to him and holding her tightly. "You don't ever have to doubt that, just look in the mirror. You're a woman, quite a beautiful one."

"Big brother inflating little sister's ego. You were always good at that, Peter," Candace said, her head lifting to his. "Why couldn't Al be like you?"

With that she once more kissed his cheek. Her arms tightened around her brother, holding him close. What exactly happened next Peter was never totally sure of. One moment Candace's lips were against his cheek in a sisterly kiss, and in the next instant, her lips were pressed to his. The kiss was far from being sisterly. Her tongue flicked out and taunted his lips, teasing at them, cajoling them to open. His reaction went beyond brotherly love. His mouth opened and accepted the offering of her tongue as it moved inward. His arms tightened, pulling her to him, while her tantalizing oral digit dueled over and under his tongue. Beneath the fabric of her nightgown, he could feel the warmth of his sister's body. His fingertips could feel her slight trembling, a quivering sensation he was sure was not caused by the coolness of the night. It was the same trembling he now felt within himself. Candace's tongue coyly retreated from his mouth. He followed it with his tongue, delving intimately into the sweetness of his sister's mouth. She moaned softly, nestling even closer against him as he toyed and teased, his tongue flicking and probing toward her throat. He was suddenly aware of the persistent cushion of her breasts. Warm mounds of flesh pushing out from beneath her gown, rolling over his shirtless chest, and atop each of those fleshy pillows was a hard pebble-like nipple, each trying to dig small holes in his skin.

This woman, this woman he found in his arms, was his sister. Yet there could be no denying the sensations astir in his loins. His balls tightened in their sac with the old familiar feeling of want and desire. He knew in that instant that if Candace wanted him, he was willing to enter her body. Whatever social taboos existed against a brother and sister sharing the same bed didn't matter, not here and now. They parted. Candace's head tilted back a bit, her dark eyes meeting his. Her expression was uncertain, filled with the realization that she had tasted forbidden fruit. But when he made no indication that their action was wrong a small smile danced at the corners of her sensuous mouth.

"I wanted that," she said softly. "I think I've always wanted that."

Peter didn't answer, except to pull her to him once again, his mouth covering hers. Passion rose in their kiss. They clung to one another, brother and sister, man and woman, lovers. Their hands now explored their faces, caressing cheeks, tracing the lines of their mouths. They stared at each other, love shining in their longing gaze. They kissed, then kissed again, losing themselves in their embrace.

"Love me, Peter," the black-haired woman who was his sister whispered when they parted again. "Make love to me. Make me your woman, even if it's only for this moment."

"Yes," he said, tenderly caressing her cheeks.

She smiled and eased from his arms. As he watched, she stood and disrobed to stand naked above him.

"I've always wanted you to look at me naked," she said, her eyes meeting his. "I wanted you to see me as a woman and not as your sister."

That was the way he saw her now, a woman - a beautiful woman. She looked so fragile and feminine. Her breasts were white cones of milky perfection. Perched precariously atop each of those satiny-smooth cushions were bud-like nipples, dark mushrooms, stiff and erect with her arousal. Downward over the sleek flatness of her stomach his gaze moved. For an instant he probed the sensual well of her navel. Then his eyes moved even lower, his groin feeling tight and hot. Between her slightly spread thighs was the thick black bush of her cunt. The silky strands were shining in the silvery rays of the moon. Barely perceivable beneath the soft looking fur of her pubis was the shadowy slit of her sex. There was no doubt in his mind that his sister was a woman - a very desirable one indeed.

"Beautiful" he said, meaning it. He opened his arms for her to come to him. "Let me kiss you."

She came, stepping quickly to his side. But before she could kneel to receive his promised kiss, his arms wrapped around her thighs. He drew her to him. His lips pressed to hers, but not the lips of her mouth - the lips of her cunt.

"Ahhhhhhh!" She moaned aloud with abandon.

Quivery thrills of hot sexual desire coursed through her veins. The warm stream of his breath trickled through the moss of her pubis. Then there was the damp flicker of a tongue. The tantalizing tapping of her brother's tongue.

"Good!" She moaned again, reaching down and caressing his head, pushing his face into her pussy. "It feels so damn good!"

The moist little snake of his tongue was doing all sorts of marvelous things to her. He taunted up and down the cleft of her loins, flicking lightly at the nubbin of her clitoris, cajoling it out from beneath its fleshy hood. When he had every inch of her naked body trembling with fevered excitement, he licked downward, lapping at the tremulous groove of her cunt. She heard the smacking of his lips and the wet oral sound as he sucked away the sudden flood of juices filling the core of her body. Abruptly, his tongue darted up into the mouth of her pussy. Her hands tightened on his head, pressing him even harder against the aching gash of her snatch. In and out his feathery oral digit toyed with her. Her knees quivered and shook, becoming as liquid as the womanly fluids flowing within her cunt. Suddenly she was no longer able to stand. With a startled cry, she collapsed. But her brother was there, catching her and lowering her to the ground. He was there beside her, his mouth on hers. She kissed him, tasting herself still on his tongue. Lovingly, Peter reached out and cupped one of the shimmering domes of his sister's tits. Despite the almost chilly feel of the night air, her breast was warm, excitingly warm. So smooth and silky she felt to his fingertips. His fingers traced around and around the fleshy mound, working upward toward the rubbery button seated atop it. A shudder of pleasure rushed through her supine body when his fingertips at last brushed over her stiff nipple. Teasingly, he tweaked the aroused button of flesh, delighting in the desirous moans that writhed from his sister's lips. Then his hand suddenly dropped down, covering her breast and squeezing. She felt so good, so damn good, just touching her, holding her. She was so alive, so willing to have his hands on her. That this woman was his sister only added to his arousal.

He taunted and teased and kneaded and played with her breasts to his heart's content. Then he sucked at them, his tongue licking and laving over every inch of her delectable titflesh. Her body was so ready for man, so hungry to be felt and loved, he found it almost unbelievable that his sister had not sought an extramarital lover until now. That she had waited was his gain. Downward his fingers crept, circling the well of her navel, then moving into the softness of her pubic fur. He played there a moment, delighting as the anticipation mounted in her body. She was ready to feel him within her, even if it were only a finger. Yet he delayed tickling up into the socket of her cunt. The longer he taunted the better it would be when he actually came into her. Cupping her crotch, he squeezed down on her plump womanly pubis. He kneaded her mound of Venus as he had kneaded her tits but moments ago. She was hot and willing and ready. He could feel the warm flow of her juices dampening his palm. Yet still he taunted, increasing the intensity of her need.

"Damn you!" She moaned. "You marvelous bastard! It's wonderful, so fucking wonderful!"

Then he shot a finger up into his sister's cunt.

"Agggarrahhhh!" She groaned. Her whole body writhed under his impaling digit.

Inward he drove, twisting and twirling his finger in the wet haven of her pussy. She moaned and bucked, fucking herself on his hand. She was hot and flooded with her own lubricants, but he prolonged the foreplay, giving her a taste of all the loving care her husband had neglected for so long. Then he worked yet another finger into her pussy. Her moaning and writhing doubled. She was tight, but she took him, screwing around on his palm. She hunched her pelvis like a woman gone mad. She was oblivious to all, except him, and he knew it, a fact that only served to increase his own desire.

"I want you," she whimpered in a piteous little voice. "Take me, Peter. Make me your woman."

He extracted his fingers from the fleshy sheath of her cunt. They came free with a wet sucking sound. She groaned at the sudden emptiness that filled her. Her eyes fluttered open, filled with the burning light of lust. With her watching him, he stood. Slowly he eased down the zipper of his blue jeans. He was naked beneath the trousers. His cock, long and rigid, jumped outward, jerking and twitching with its new-found freedom. His sister's dark eyes widened. A hungry expression moved over her face. She stared longingly at the thick, imposing shaft of his sex. At the same time, there was a knowing glint in her eyes - the realization that his erect cock was for her - her alone!

"Let me feel it." Her lips parted to reveal the wetness of her tongue. "Let me feel you."

He stepped forward straddling her supine body. Below him on her back, his sister gazed up, her eyes frozen on the massive bludgeon of his cock. Then her arms lifted. He groaned, trembling at the first touch of her fingertips. Lovingly her fingers ran up and down the solid column of his sex. Light and tender she caressed, as though she were worshipping the virile strength of his cock.

"It feels marvelous," she whispered. "So hard and strong, yet so smooth and soft. I love the way it twitches at my touch. So hungry and ready - ready to fuck me - ready to screw your sister."

His balls surged within their wrinkled bag. That's exactly what he was going to do - fuck his sister.

"I feel so wicked," she went on, her hands still running up and down his cock. "I feel like my brother's whore, willing to do anything he wishes - anything."

Her tongue flicked over her lips, an invitation for him to ask for her mouth. It was a hard offer to turn down, but his loins were consumed with need for this woman. He realized that if she pressed her lips to his cock crown he might just lose the huge load surging through his swollen balls. At this moment, that was the last thing his sister needed. What she did need was to feel a man's cock shoved up her cunt. She needed a man, a man to fuck her.

"Fuck me," he said. "I want my sister to fuck me."

"Yes," she said, smiling widely. "Yes!"

Her thighs spread, opening her body to him. With one last squeeze, she relinquished her hold on his prick. Slowly, he lowered himself atop the titillating bed of his sister's naked body. Their mouths met once again, their tongues taunting and probing. Their hands were moving, trying to feel every inch of their bodies all at once. Beneath him, she squirmed a bit. Her pelvis lifted and his cockhead nestled in the moist slit of her cunt. He eased forward separating the plump lips of her outer labia. He felt her tense, her anticipation growing. Moving with slow-motion speed, he inched his throbbing wand of lust into her body. Deeper the swollen shaft slithered. His lust-engorged cock crown touched, then splayed the scalloped inner lips of her cunt. He was within her now. The hot liquid shelter of her pussy surrounded him, bathing each inch of cock he fed into her hungry body. This woman was his sister - his sister! The fact jarred his brain, as though he were realizing it for the first time. She felt so good, so hot, so tight. To just lie there atop her luxurious body, to feel the glove-like tightness of her pussy sheathing his cock would have been enough. Enough for him - but not for her. His sister needed all the pleasure and release his body could provide. That's exactly what he intended to give her. Abruptly, his hips jerked back. His prick sluiced upward, posing at the entrance to her love channel. He paused a moment, then drove down. Long and hard, his piston of pleasure burrowed into the folds of her steaming pussy.

"Sweet God!" She groaned under him. "You're so BIG! So wonderfully BIG! I never imagined it would be like this, never in my wildest dreams."

Her words hit him like an electric jolt. Sizzling sexual energy coursed through his groin. His pelvis lurched up and swung down. He ground into her crotch, making sure her stiffened clit felt the full impact of his body. He felt her cunt squeeze around him, sleeving his prick in the humid recesses of her core. She was tight, so damn tight. It was marvelous. At another time, he would have liked to just lie there letting her milk his prick with the magnificent power of her vaginal muscles. But that would have to be another time. Now he was fucking his sister, and he was doing his best to make sure it was an experience she would not soon forget. While he drove his prick in and out of the envelope of her cunt, he swung around a bit atop, just enough for his mouth to cover one of the mounds of her tits. Then he sucked. He sucked hard, his tongue slashing across the top of her stiff nipple like a moist little whip. Her moans deepened, filled with gratification and soaring lust. She writhed under him, her hips bucking up to meet each thrust of his crotch. Her pussy squeezed at him, sucking along his slicked length. She tucked him with abandon. Her hunger for the pleasures of a man drove her on at a fervent pace. The harder and deeper he shafted into the heated hole of her pussy, the more she wanted him, begged for him. To allow such a passionate woman to suffer as she had with Al was a sin, he thought. The man had to be insane. Suddenly he found himself groaning around a mouthful of delicious titflesh. His sister wedged a hand between their sweat-drenched cores and toyed with his balls. Her fingers lightly kneaded the two heavy balls, teasing him. His response was an even harder-plunging cock. He reamed in and out of her fleshy sheath. His hips twisted and ground into her pelvis. He hunched, throwing his full weight behind each of his deep-probing strokes.

"Close," his sexy sister managed to moan in between his slicing thrusts. "Close!"

Immediately, he upped the tempo of his relentless fucking. Her nearness to climax and his own burning need whipped him on. He threw himself into her, trying to slam the head of his prick against the ring of her cervix. But it seemed an impossible task. The deeper he poled, the more his sister's body seemed to open up and accept him. Faster and faster his cock pumped into her juicy slit. Harder and harder, he drove the mighty spear of his lust into the mouth of her belly. She groaned continuously now. She squeezed at his balls, creating a fantastic mixture of ache and pleasure. In and out, the knifing length of his pulsating prick skewered the juice-flooded hole of her cunt. On and on, she welcomed each probing thrust of his huge cock. Her body was packed with him. His fat, swollen presence dominated her life. At that moment, she existed for him and him alone. Her body was no more than a vessel for her brother's cock. And she loved it, loved every hard, throbbing inch he shoved deeply into the greedy slash of her pussy. It seemed like years since a man had entered her body. Now all the mounting frustrations she had felt during her marriage to Al seemed to shatter and explode away. This, the feel of a man rooted so deeply in her cunt, was what she had yearned for. This, the pulsing hardness of a fat prick, was what she had ached and prayed for. Now, now that her prayer had been answered, she realized she could never live without it again. She was a woman, not some doll to be used, but a woman who felt and had needs. Those needs and desires needed a man to satisfy them. Al could never be such a man. Inward her brother's cock rammed, filling her body. She moaned, savoring the feel of his skewering prick. She squeezed down on his thickness, trying to hold him deeply within the trembling channel of her pussy. Out the pulsating shaft slithered, evacuating the edacious mouth of her belly. She quivered and trembled. She felt each swollen inch as it withdrew. Then downward his pelvis swung, once again slamming the rigid length of his prick into her juice-filled cunt. Higher and higher she soared with every pounding stroke of his magnificent piston. Her thighs glowed with expanding heat, warmth generated from the constant pumping of her cunt. Hotter and hotter she burned, consumed by the flames of lust and love for her brother. Outward the glow spread, swirling to meet the desires of her body. Closer and closer the fiery heat came. Then it was there flaring within the very core of her pussy. She groaned out loud and long, surrendering herself to the explosive force of her climax.

Beneath him, his sister's body quivered in tremors of pleasure, tremors that rapidly became full-fledged flesh quakes. Her fingernails dug deeply into his back raking down toward his pumping buttocks. The wet sheath of her cunt contracted around the stiff shaft of his prick, sucking at his length in the moment of her ecstasy. His sister's carnal desires satisfied, Peter then allowed the boiling pressure of his loins to spew forth. He came, blasting spurt after hot spurt of cum into her womb. Thick, white cum spewed from his cock. Jet upon jet of his seed splattered over the pink folds of his sister's love hole. He drenched her, covering every inch of her greedy pussy with his release. Seemingly, he emptied at least a gallon or two of his seminal reserves into her before his throbbing prick at last subsided and the flood of his climax ceased. Gratefully, he just laid atop her still trembling body, savoring the complete satisfaction of their lovemaking. When at last he rolled from her sated body, she nestled into the hollow of his shoulder clinging tightly to him. He held her, enjoying the warmth of her body suffusing along his side. He held her until he felt her breathing soften to the shallow breaths of sleep. Man and woman, brother and sister, they both remained there on the bank of the river until the first rays of the new day, then slipped quietly back into their separate tents.



Linda Chivas awoke shortly before dawn. She glanced around her tent to find her step cousin Anne still soundly sleeping. She smiled, grateful that the girl still slept. This time, before everyone in the two families awakened, was her time. The forest just before the dawn was something special, something she had discovered the first morning of their vacation. Now she cherished this time, relishing the peaceful solitude it provided. Each morning she rose and slipped from her tent and walked a short way from camp. There, she sat alone and listened to the sounds of the forest awakening and watched the rising sun. It was something she had never experienced in the city and while she was out in the wilderness, she refused to miss even one of these magnificent mornings.

Quietly rolling from her sleeping bag, Linda reached out and found the fresh pair of jeans and blouse she had laid out the night before. Beneath them was a pair of white bikini panties. She smiled again. Anne had introduced her to the brief style of panties just before they had left on vacation. Besides looking sexy as hell on her, they made her feel almost naked. Which was good, because ever since she had started on this wilderness hike, she had wanted to shed all her clothes and run naked through the woods. A bit of the pagan within her, she thought. Still, that urge to be free had grown greater the farther she hiked into the forest. The second day of backpacking, she had carefully packed away her bra, burying it beneath all her other clothes. Perhaps, when they returned home, she would wear it again. But now, she felt so much freer without it. Standing, she dressed in panties, jeans, blouse, and sandals, making as little noise as possible. She glanced again at Anne. The girl still slept. Without making a sound, the young girl stepped from the tent and sucked in a deep breath. The air tasted fresh, still alive with the chill of the night. The smell of the forest permeated every molecule of the air. It smelled so alive and growing that she tingled with its presence. She wanted to laugh or sing, but she repressed the urge. She didn't want to wake everybody else and spoil this time. Above her the sky was still black. Stars twinkled and glistened like spots of light on a background of black velvet. To the east, she could already see the first sign of dawn. Blackness was quickly turning to a dark blue and the stars were fading.

Sunrise was close. She glanced around to select a spot to sit and watch the breaking dawn. The trees around the campsite were too high for a good view. However, down by the river would be perfect. Her ears filled with the sound of awakening birds, Linda started toward the river. She covered half the distance and stopped. Somebody was lying on the bank near the water's edge. Could somebody else have discovered the serenity of this early morning hour? Or had someone just had a rough night and couldn't sleep? Either way she felt as though her own private world had been invaded. She took a step or two closer, trying to see who the intruder was. Her eyes widened. There wasn't one person, but two. But who? It was still too dark for her to see who the two were. But unless her eyes were playing tricks on her, the couple was stark naked. Who? It couldn't be Spence and Anne. Despite her brother's attempt to hide the fact he was balling their step cousin, Linda knew all about his affair with Anne. The young brunette and Linda were very close and Anne shared all her secrets. However, Linda had left Anne sleeping soundly in their tent. Who could it be? The couple's identity intrigued her. Obviously it had to be either Aunt Candace and Al, though she found it hard to visualize those two ever sleeping together, let alone screwing around in the woods, or it had to be her parents. Her parents? Yes, she could see both of them doing something like this.

Should she be spying on them? No, she decided, but she intended to do it just the same. The thought of watching her mother and father together did more than just stir her interest. She wanted to see them! Her head twisted around, seeking a way to move closer without being detected. Nothing on her right, but to the left. Linda found a thick clump of bushes running almost to the river. She smiled and turned. Her steps were slow and deliberate, lifting one foot, then the other, being careful to make as little noise as possible. She worked her way closer to the nude couple, eventually dropping behind the bushes and crawling as close as she thought was safe. Carefully, she reached out and parted the bushes. She caught her breath. In the soft glow of the coming sunrise, she could just make out the pair. She had guessed the identity of one of them correctly - her father. But the woman wasn't her mother - it was Aunt Candace - her father's sister! Her father's sister!

The thought railed through her mind. There was no doubt what her father and Candace had been doing. This wasn't a nudist colony. They had been balling. Her father had fucked his sister! That was incest! Linda found herself more confused than shocked. She tried to sort her thoughts, but she couldn't. Her eyes were glued to the supple nakedness of her aunt. The woman was beautiful, she looked like some forest goddess. Linda had always considered Aunt Candace to be an "old woman," but now she realized she had been wrong. Aunt Candace's body was that of a young woman, no more than in her mid-twenties. Aunt Candace was pressed so close to her father! Her breasts were flattened against him. Her legs entwining his. So close to him.

To his - Linda caught her breath once again, realizing what her eyes now gazed on - her father's cock! She shivered. It looked so big, like some sleeping snake nestled in the darkness of his pubic hairs. She shivered again, aware that her trembling was caused by a growing arousal, rather than repulsion. There was something else, something she couldn't put her finger on at first, but then recognized it as a twinge of jealousy. Aunt Candace was there lying in her father's arms and she was hidden amid the bushes. Aunt Candace had felt that big cock within her body, and Linda had only dreamed of her father mounting her young body and taking her. To have seen him, she thought. Then with increasing excitement, to have felt him, her father, moving within her. Again she trembled. She, as with all young girls, had felt a desire for her father. It was a normal part of sexual development. Linda even knew the name the shrinks put on it - Electra Complex. Until now, she had never really thought of making those fantasies come true. Until now.

She shook her head. No, it wasn't possible. Her father and her mother, she could see that. Even now she could accept her father making love to Aunt Candace, just lying there, they looked so natural. But her and her father? It just wouldn't happen. He would never come to her and ask to share her bed. After all - he was her father. Fathers just didn't do things like that. Even if he did, what would her mother do? What would her mother do if she knew about Aunt Candace? Linda's thoughts were abruptly interrupted. Her father moved. He leaned over his younger sister and kissed her awake. They were gentle kisses that mounted in passion when Aunt Candace's eyes fluttered open to greet her lover. As Linda watched, the two kissed a very long and involved kiss.

"We'd better get back to the tents," she heard her father say when they parted. "The others will be waking in a bit."

Candace nodded and gave him another kiss before rising and slipping into her gown. Peter quickly pulled on his jeans, then reached out and took his sisters hand. Linda watching from her hiding place among the bushes let her gaze follow them back to the tents. For moments, she just stared at the camp, all thoughts of the sunrise forgotten.


The day's hiking went as those before it had gone. The two families continued deeper into the forest, using the river as their guide. With short rest stops and a break for lunch, it was seven hours before they again selected a site for the night. The seven hours gave Linda all the time she needed to collect her thoughts and neatly sort them. First, she wasn't some scatter-brained teenager. Despite her eighteen years she was aware of the world around her and the relationships shared by a man and a woman. While she had no hard evidence to prove her theory, she had the feeling that her mother and father had taken lovers at one time or another during their marriage. She also suspected that each parent was fully aware of what the other did. If so, she felt her mother would understand what had happened between Aunt Candace and her father. She did. On more than one occasion, she had thought of going to bed with her own brother, especially after listening to Anne recount their love making. Second, she knew damn well Al didn't know, or even suspect what had happened between her father and Aunt Candace. She doubted whether the man ever had a thought of sex, least of all considered the possibility that his wife had taken a lover - her own brother at that. Al just wouldn't believe that such things could happen. Last, she had considered her own feelings. Yes, she wanted to be her father's lover - one of them, at least. She had no want to replace her mother. The thought of being her father's wife wasn't what she had planned for her future. But to share his bed was another matter altogether.

Getting him into that bed, or more specifically, into her snatch was another problem. Linda wasn't a girl. Over a year ago she had felt the thrill of her first lover moving between her willing thighs. It had been a summer romance with the cousin of one of her best friends who had been visiting for a week. When he returned home, she was a woman and he was no longer a boy. Since then she had taken one other lover, a young man she now had hopes of marrying. But that was in the future, after she graduated from college. Her father was here and now. She had no worries of pregnancy. Her own mother had seen to that. A few days before her first date, her mother had taken her aside and talked with her. It wasn't one of those woman-to-woman talks she had heard of from her friends, nor was it a mother-to- daughter lecture. It had been more like two friends discussing what it meant to be a woman. After that talk her mother had taken her to the doctor for a complete physical and a birth-control pill prescription. Her mother had given her the responsibility of controlling her own sex life. Something she had not regretted. She was a woman, and she knew it. But how was she going to get her father to notice the fact? As she had realized when watching Aunt Candace and her father, he would never come to her. The only answer was for her to go to him and offer herself. But how and when, that was something she hadn't decided yet. Linda looked around the camp. Everyone was completing their normal tasks of setting up the tents and getting the fire ready for the evening meal. Then she saw Spence and Anne talking. Why not?

Spence and Anne managed to get away by themselves simply by taking a walk in the woods and finding someplace to make love. She could do the same thing. She glanced around and found her father stretched out beneath a tree, resting in the shade. Her heart suddenly doubled its speed. He was alone. If there were a time to do it, the time was now before he became involved in something. Taking a deep breath, Linda strode toward him without hesitation. Her temples were pounding like hammers by the time she reached his side. She knew he could read what she had planned on her face when he looked up at her, but he just smiled and said, "Hi, Princess."

"Think you could spare your daughter a few minutes?" She forced calmness into her voice.

"Sure, what's on your mind?"

"Nothing really important." She lied. "There's just something I want to show you in the woods."

"Oh?" Her father's smile grew. "What is it?"

"A surprise," she replied. "It's just back up there a bit. Think you feel up to a short walk?"

She held her breath, knowing that she had just given him the opportunity to refuse to go with her. But he grinned and answered, "Okay."

He held a hand out to her as he rose, gripping her fingers firmly. "Lead on."

She smiled and started toward the forest. Once in the trees, she led him directly away from the camp and the others. She had no idea what she was going to tell him when she found the spot she was looking for, but she would think of something. At the moment she had to find a secluded clearing.

"Hey, how far is this?" her father asked.

"Not much further," she answered, repressing the panicky rush that rose from the pit of her stomach. Her eyes darted around, searching for a concealed spot. "It's just right over there."

She glanced at him, her eyes looking back. She could no longer see the tents, nor could she hear the others. Now she had to find the right location. About fifty feet more, she found what she was looking for. It was a small moss-covered depression surrounded by thick bushes and trees. Unless someone was looking for this place, they would never notice it. That made it perfect for her plans. Tightening her grip on her father's hand, she led him through the shrubs.

"This is it?" He looked at her, a puzzled expression on his face. "I don't see anything."

"There isn't anything, except me." No, she realized that was the wrong approach and regretted her words as they came from her mouth. "I didn't want to show you anything."

"Huh?" His confusion grew.

"I just wanted to get you away from the others... so we could... talk," she said.

"Alone at last," her father said with a chuckle. He eased to the ground and sat, patting the moss beside him for her to sit also. "Must be something pretty important to bring us out here?"

"Yes," she began, still unsure of how to handle the situation. "It's that... well."

"That important, huh?" His expression was serious now, filled with the gentle understanding that was always there when she came to him with a problem.

Linda seated herself next to her father and once again took his hand. "Dad, I saw you and Aunt Candace this morning. I was getting up to see the sunrise and I saw you two by the river."

"And you saw us making love?" His voice didn't quaver.

"No, but I knew what had happened," she said.

He was silent a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. "I'm not sure what to say. What happened, happened. I feel no regrets. I know Candace is my sister, but what happened was between a man and a woman. I'm sorry if what you saw upset you, but!"

"It did upset me," she interrupted him. "But not in the way you're thinking. What I saw looked so beautiful. Aunt Candace looked like a sylvan goddess from Roman mythology and you...." She stumbled over her words. "Dad, I was jealous of Aunt Candace. I wanted to be in her place!"

His head jerked around. He stared at her. His expression was a strange mixture of surprise and confusion.

"I brought you here to show you me, your daughter," she said, words rushing out. "I'm a woman, your daughter is a woman. I want to show you that woman."

His mouth fell slightly ajar. She knew what he must be thinking, but she had committed herself. She had said what she wanted to say and now she wanted him. Before he could answer, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his. Her tongue flicked out and darted between his parted lips. She taunted and teased, but there was no response. He sat there frozen, as though he were a man in a state of shock.

She pulled away a bit, undaunted. Her eyes rose to his. "Make love to me. I want you to make love to me."

Again she kissed her father. Her tongue, like a moist whip, flicked into his mouth, taunting and tapping. Suddenly, she felt him stir. He didn't move away. Instead, his hands were on her waist, holding her. She pressed closer, rolling the firm, young cones of her tits against her father's chest. She hugged close, so that he could feel her body and recognize its willingness to please him. Peter Chivas' body responded to his daughter before his mind accepted what was happening. It was too late. What Linda was proposing seemed no different than what had happened between him and his sister. He loved his daughter, and his body with the warm sensations coursing in his loins told him that he wanted her. If he had thought of refusing her, it was a battle lost before it started. His hands rose and caressed the young girl's cheeks. Gently he cradled her face, while he returned her kiss. His tongue entered her mouth, playfully teasing at her sprite oral digit.

For moments, they just sat there, father and daughter, holding one another, savoring the exciting feel of each other's bodies. When their lips parted, his head lowered a bit, his hand easing back the strands of her strawberry blonde hair. His tongue and lips then busied themselves with the delicate lobe of her ear. The young girl moaned. She nestled closer to him. Her hands rose to his chest, caressing its broad expanse. Then her finger went to work on his shirt, slipping buttons from holes and exposing his chest. By the time his mouth worked down to the graceful tan arch of her neck, she had opened his shirt and her fingertips were fondling the pebble-like forms of his nipples. It was happening! Linda couldn't believe it. Her father was in her arms. After all her planning, it had been so easy! Now she would be his and he hers, if only for this moment. That was enough. It was more than she had ever dreamt would happen. Her father's lips were on her throat kissing downward. His hands opened the buttons of her blouse. She moaned softly as he suddenly ducked his neck and pressed his mouth between the broad expansive valley of flesh separating her tits. Then his hands were there, cupping the resilient mounds of her breasts. Lovingly, his fingers squeezed into the white cones. She moaned again, her back arching forward, shoving herself into his hands. He felt so good, so sure of himself - a man that understood a woman's body and how to give it pleasure. Slowly, he kissed his way to one of the creamy cones. It looked so white and vulnerable against the deep tan of the rest of her body. His daughter did not sunbathe in the nude. Somewhere in his mind, he remembered seeing all those centerfold models in men's magazines and thinking their two-toned bodies somehow looked ridiculous. Now he found the combination of milky flesh and sun golden skin as sexy as hell. Opening his mouth wide, he homed in on one of the coral buds of his daughter's nipples. He sucked, his groin tightening with his first taste of her bountiful breasts. He licked, using his tongue like a moist finger. He thoughtfully laved around and around the delicate nubbin, thrilling when he felt it thicken and grow to a stiff, spongy point. Simultaneously, his roving hands caressed the summery mounds of teenage titflesh. His fingers were alive with the satiny feel of her ripe young breasts. He kneaded them, he rolled them against the flat of his palm, he squeezed them, and he loved them. Meanwhile, her hands were far from inactive. Abandoning his chest, Linda's fingers were now busy with the snap of his pants. He felt a quick tug and the metallic pwack of the snap giving way. Then there was the hiss of his zipper.

"I want to feel you," she whispered in a throaty voice of lust. "I want to feel your cock."

She did. Her hands, feeling extremely cool, dipped into his shorts. What she found waiting was a throbbing pole of manmeat - her father's prick! Fiery sensations of desire swirled through her at the mere touch of his shaft. Her fingertips ran up and down the firm length, thrilling at the mighty surges she created within the shaft.

But just touching him was not enough. "I want to see you," she said. "I want you the way Aunt Candace had you this morning."

He answered by releasing the fleshy feast of her youthful tits and kissed her mouth once again. Then he stood. With his daughter's eyes following his every move, Peter Chivas peeled off his shirt. Hastily kicking away his shoes and toeing off his socks, he then removed his pants and shorts.

Naked he stood before the seductive strawberry blonde.

"Fantastic," she whispered as though she spoke to herself. "It's so beautiful."

Her flashing green eyes were riveted to the jutting form of his cock. An impish smile spread over her sensual lips.

Before he knew what was happening, his daughter was on her knees before him. She clasped his prong with both hands. Staring down at her, he saw her lips open, then the moist flicker of pink. It was his turn to moan. The young girl's tongue lightly tapped against the sensitive skin of his cockhead. It was just a fleeting brush of warm wetness, but the sensations it created were enough to threaten to turn his knees to water. His column of manhood jerked with eagerness. Linda's eyes rolled up to him. She smiled, obviously pleased with the pleasure that slight tap of tongue had given him. Then her gaze moved back to his prick. With his eyes watching her, her head tilted forward. Again her tongue ran out. Her fantastic oral digit swirled atop his cock, igniting all sorts of ball-aching pleasures. She licked at him like a child with an all-day sucker. Then her tongue coursed down the unbending length of his immense spike. Wet and warm, she bathed his dork, leaving the pulsating column glistening with her saliva. Linda had not originally intended this. But when she had first seen her father's prick, she had just followed her natural urges. Now her mouth was filled with the taste of the pre-seminal fluids she had licked from his cockhead. The slightly saline flavor only increased her desire for this man - her own father. She had felt a man in her mouth before, even drunk down the fiery spurts of a man's release. But never before had cocksucking seemed so exciting. But then, never had the prick she sucked been her father's. Her hand stretched out and dipped between his thighs. There, dangling from his balls, she found the hairy sac of his balls. Tenderly, she felt the kidney-shaped rocks within the bag. They were big, bigger than those of either of her two teenage lovers. For some reason, that fact thrilled her. She turned her attention back to the situation at hand. The business of giving her father a blowjob. Drawing back from the lust-filled length of his prick once again, she looked up, pleased to find his gaze still on her. While he watched, she opened her mouth, puckering her lips into a wide "O." Then she moved in on his cock. The throbbing knob of his cockhead touched her lips, then slid inward. Downward, she slid on the fat column of sex. Inward, she accepted the fleshy pole, sheltering it in the humid haven of her face.

Peter groaned. Trembling sensations of raw lust shot up from his groin, suffusing through his whole body. He fought his first impulse to shove his hips forward and impale his daughter's face on his cock. Instead he stood there, allowing her fantastic mouth to eat at him. Eat she did. Up and down with titillating languor, her head bobbed. He watched the shining shaft of his prick vanishing into her greedy, cock-loving mouth, then come sliding out. Again and again she swallowed, carrying the flow of his pre-seminal fluids to her stomach. At the same time, her tongue politely continued its provocative caresses. Over and down she licked at his root. Under and up, she laved the fleshy pole of her father's sex. Down she slid, her cheeks bulging outward when she sheathed the ponderous burden of his mass. Up she pulled, her cheeks hollowing deeply as she sucked at him. There was no way his body could resist its natural urges. The single fact that this was his daughter eating at his prick was enough to bring him, enough to have his balls turning flip-flops within their sac. He began to cum. She felt the rising flood in his prick. She sucked in her breath through her nostrils and accepted the spurting jets of sexual lava. She gulped down his release, swallowing mouthful after mouthful of her father's cum, then sucking at his cock even harder to make sure not one drop of his fluid escaped her. With the pleasure of his daughter's mouth rapidly becoming pain, he reached down and eased her mouth from his prod. He smiled weakly when she looked up at him, then whispered, "Enough, enough! I can't take anymore. It was marvelous!" Carefully, his knees quivering, he lowered himself to the ground beside her. Drawing her to him, he kissed the mouth that had provided him so much pleasure.

As they parted, Linda eased from his embrace. Her eyes shining with the incandescent gleam of love and lust, she stood. Her shoulders wiggled a bit and her blouse fell from her arms. Again, he was struck by the sensual combination of white and golden skin while he watched the lively dance of her ripe tits. The pink-coral colored nipples, perched like cherries atop each of those luscious-looking peaks traced invisible circles in the air. Running her hands along her sides, the sexy young nymph moved her fingers to the front of her jeans. The snap popped open and the zipper eased down its metallic track. She did a provocative little wiggle and her jeans slithered down her thighs. Completely exposed for his eyes were two long shapely legs, beautiful thighs and calves she had obviously inherited from her mother. Her skin was smooth and sun-tanned, a golden brown that matched her arms and firm, young stomach. Next, her fingers tucked beneath the elastic band of her bikini panties. She inched them down with deliberate languor. She was teasing him, taunting him with her young body and enjoying every minute of her seductive scheme. Tossing her panties away, she stood straight up, allowing her father to view her unashamed nakedness. His eyes roved over the flatness of her belly and the developing womanly flare of her hips. Then his longing gaze moved to the auburn triangle of pubic fleece bushed over the alluring knoll of her cunt. He remembered her earlier words. She had brought him here to show him she was a woman. As he stared on the arousing curves of her young body, he had no doubts that his daughter was just that - a woman; one who knew the pleasures her body could give a man.

She smiled, stepping toward him, her hips waggling in exaggerated fashion. Stopping at his side, she extended a hand. "Give me your hand."

He did. Taking it, she placed his fingers on her crotch and trembled as he touched her. Her pubic moss was soft and silky to his fingertips. Lovingly, he stroked the down of her sex, delighting at the cooing sounds that came from his daughter's throat. While she stared down at him, he slid his palm between her thighs and burrowed a finger up into the moist hole of her young cunt. She was wet and hot inside. Her pussy was already dewy. He twirled his finger around in her damp sluice and she moaned, her body trembling.

"It's good," she said. "Your hands feel wonderful on me - in me."

With that he had to agree. This delightful nymph made him feel like a young man again. Already his deflated prick was throbbing with renewed need - a need to burrow itself deeply into this juicy, pink-lipped pussy. Slowly, he pulled his digit from the channel of her lust. Then he reversed himself and drilled his inquisitive finger back up into the most intimate of his daughter's body. At the same time, he ran another finger up the cleft of her outer labia. Her whole body shuddered almost convulsively as he found the hypersensitive bud of her clit. The small nubbin was no larger than a small pea, but obviously it was as ready for his attention as was her juicy cunt. Almost casually, he manipulated that tiny button of flesh, while his entrenched finger slithered in and out of her