stepsister, how could I miss?… but I had never really had a chance to examine a female pussy at close quarters. I had read all this crap about it looking like a calla lily or an orchid or a lotus blossom and I wanted a look for myself before I reached my own conclusion… so I lifted myself on my knees, pulling her cunt with me so that I was squatted on my haunches with Darlene's legs forking my body and her pussy right there under my nose.
The position forced my prick downward until I was afraid it would break, so I pulled the pillows down and got them under her shoulder blades, lifting her upper body and making the contact bearable. Then I took a good look. Her lips or labia were darker than Anita's, more purple than pink, and they came out when I pulled my dink partway out, then folded in around it when I poked it back in again. Right above the hole I was using was the button, poking out wetly with its membrane covers drawn back, and above the clit the union of the labia into a crack in her skin than ran up into the damp red grass of her pussy and vanished.
I grabbed hold of the undersides of her thighs then, just above the knees, and doubled them back on either side of her flat belly and got a full view of her bottom, with its tight little grey-rimmed arsehole just below where my dong disappeared in the depths of her cunt. For some reason, this excited me again, and I began to thrust in and out of her, enjoying the changes that took place each time I moved my cock either way. Her juices were still running so freely that, in this position, her cunt made soppy little sounds at the same time. Finally, I knew I was about to blast a load of jizzum into her and it seemed a shame to have her miss the final action… so I extended the tip of my right index finger and gently diddled her exposed clit.
Her legs pistoned out on either side of me like the hind legs of a jumping frog and she began to writhe so strenuously that I nearly lost contact entirely. I got hold of her thighs again and pushed her legs up and apart once more and then began taking full measure of her with long slow deep strokes, straight ahead, in and out, keeping her under control by my grip on her legs. She moaned and muttered and began thrusting and then rolling from side to side and I began to roll with her, feeling the tide within me rise, slowly at first and then with more and more speed until, with a grunt, I jammed it all the way up and let her have it full in the womb. She gasped and cried out until I had to cover her mouth with my hand, and kept right on throbbing beneath me until at last my cock began to wane within her and finally was just a wet little mushroom lingering at the gates of heaven, reluctant to leave.
She let me know by her eyes that she was sane once again, so I released her lips and kissed her damply with all the love in my heart. She hugged me and then I rolled off her beautiful body and we lay side by side once more while she traced the outline of my lips with her fingertips.
“No wonder there's a law against it,” she whispered. “It's too wonderful.”
THREE
The next morning, I felt like the third day of football practice. My pelvis felt punched in in front and my belly muscles ached as if I'd been doing grass drills of two hundred pushups apiece. Usually, when we finished our chores, we'd all go down to the beach for a swim and to lay around in the sun… but all I wanted to do was get off by myself somewhere and sleep.
Besides, from the looks I was getting from Darlene and Anita and especially from Cousin George (along with a few snide remarks), I had an idea being with the family on the beach would be like running the gauntlet through a couple of lines of well-armed Cherokee braves. I was in no shape to take a ribbing just then, though ordinarily I can handle myself well enough in the comeback department.
Also, I was suffering what one of my teachers calls a “crisis of conscience.” I knew I had committed what the Bible calls a mortal sin… not just with one of my sisters but with two of them. And more than once in each case. And the hell of it was, every time I looked at either Darlene or Anita, I got a hard-on. I wanted more and so did both girls… even though we knew it was wrong.
So, when I finished cleaning up I didn't go to the beach. Instead, I walked away from the house, along the narrow path through the yucca and the sparse scrub pines to the shack. This was a run-down old adobe hut with a leaky roof and two crummy rooms with a half-busted partition between them. None of us knew who had built it or lived in it or maybe died in it… it was simply there when Dad inherited the island from his Irish-Mexican great- grandfather. We kids had used it as a playhouse ever since we began summering there… but as we got older, we more or less forgot about it. It was the first time I had been there all summer. We had furnished it with castoffs from the main house and one summer Darlene and Anita had decorated it with a lot of bright decals and psychedelic posters and put bright calico covers over the ratty tables and chairs. There was an old rump-sprung sofa in the bigger room and a nailed-together busted-down bed in the smaller back room.
I went in there and lay down on the bed and tried to assemble my mixed-up thoughts and feelings and decide what to do with the strange situation I found myself in. But every time I put my thoughts in any sort of order, they'd get muddled with visions of the way Anita's cunt had felt in the water out there on the reef, and the terrific sucking and fucking sessions I had enjoyed with Darlene until sunrise. After a few minutes, I guess I fell asleep.
I was wakened some time later by a mixture of strange sounds that seemed to come from the ramshackle partition right against my left ear. At first, I was so drugged with sleep that I thought the broken wall itself was talking to me… then I realized the sounds were coming from the sofa right on the other side of the partition. The springs of the old sofa were creaking and it sounded as if someone were sobbing softly in time with the creaks. I listened for a while, trying to figure out who it was… then I sat up and pulled back a bull fight poster that covered a gap in the partition and peeked through.
The light was dim, of course, but I could see all right. Francie, my fourteen-year-old kid sister, was lying there on her back with tears running down her cheeks. She had taken off her faded little blue bikini and tossed both parts over a chair beyond the sofa. She had her knees apart and was diddling herself with both hands digging into her tiny cunt. It was the first time I had ever watched a girl jerk off, and it was interesting, so I kept looking.
Little Francie was something to look at even if she was just a kid. She had long heavy golden hair streaked with platinum by the sun, and her face, even screwed up with crying, was even prettier than Anita's… and that was saying something. She was a beautiful bronze color all over, and her compact little body looked like an overripe bud about to burst into full blossom. She was chunky with what I knew was baby fat that would go away in a year or two, and her plump little breasts were just beginning to rise from her chest, with nipples starting to jut. Even doing what she was doing, she looked as sweet and innocent as a cherub in some old religious painting.
I opened my mouth to say something to her… I loved Francie the way I love all my sisters, especially lately… but then she did something that stopped me cold. She lifted her hands from her tiny cunt and went on gently rubbing her mound above it with her left hand while she reached for something on the far side of her body. I could look right down into her crotch from my point of vantage. Her cunt didn't seem to have any lips at all, like Darlene or Anita's, but the tiny opening was dripping wet with the same white fluid I had seen on Anita's and on Cousin George's cock when he finished fucking her on the beach. I sensed that she had been diddling herself to make some pussy juice, and I wondered why. But not for long…
Her right hand reappeared above her body, holding a thick kitchen candle. She had stopped her crying and was holding it up, looking at it. Then she put it to her tiny mouth and licked the flat top of the wax cylinder, took it in both hands and placed the tip with its drooping bit of wick end, right against her cunt. She pushed and cried out when it failed to get past her portals. Then she planted her feet wide on the couch and lifted her rump and bridged, trying to force it inside… but again she failed, sobbing aloud in bitter frustration and crying, “I'll never make it.”
I had to do something. I said, “Not with that thing, darling… and if you do, you'll tear yourself to pieces.”
She dropped the candle as if it had suddenly grown red-hot. She lay there as if paralyzed and then said, “Jeff… oh,
I said, “It's all right, Francie. I was asleep.”
She said, “But you
I said, “Well, I did today… and I guess it's a good thing. You could have hurt yourself with that candle. Why did you take such a thick one, anyway?”
She said, her lovely little face petulant, “Yesterday, when Darlene and I were watching you and Cousin George with Anita, I saw how big you were… and I was afraid I couldn't hold either of you.”
I said, “Aren't you a little young for that?”
