air and both hands digging into her big wet pussy, a helpless victim of her own lustfulness. But I took it easy on myself. I knew what I wanted.
Since Mum's asshole was probably a lot tighter than her cunt, it didn't surprise me that Carl blew first. I was practically between her legs before he could shoot And when he did I pushed him out of the way and neatly caught the first globules of sperm as they cascaded out of her asshole. My eyes kept a check on Harry, too, and yet I was able to close my fist around Carl's cock to keep it close so I could suck the rest of his sperm out of him when it welled up to the top. I didn't care about manners anymore. My appetite had been whetted by a continuous show and this was all I could get a hold of for the time being. I heard Harry begin to moan jerkily and knew his time was drawing to an end. With a few last licks I ensured that there was no more to be had from either her asshole or Carl's cock, after which I moved my face very close to where Harry penetrated my mother. Juices spattered my face each time he thrust his dick up her and his balls hit my chin when I came too close. I was where it was at. If I'd been getting fucked myself I couldn't have been more involved with it. Not long now-he started to fuck faster and Mum sounded like a steam train ascending a steep slope. Slogging now, his big cock riding in and out of her all the way, and then he shoved it right up her and his loins kept pushing it in and in and in so his bone bashed against hers. There it came, the first load, long, thick drops oozing out of her cunt and dropping right down on my tongue, all hot and creamy, mixed with Mum's tart juices for extra flavor. I sucked at the joint of their union, drawing it down as soon as it emerged from his throbbing cock. And when he withdrew a small avalanche of the stuff drooled into my mouth, fulfilling at least that aspect of my terrible lust.
Mum lowered herself gingerly to the floor, taking care not to sit on me, and then let herself fall back to rest up. Her chest heaved violently, and from her holes came the last of the sperm. But I let it drip into the carpet. I lay with my head on her lap so that her pubic hair brushed against my cheek, and closed my eyes. It felt so good to be in touch with her. She caressed my hair and brow restfully. For the first time in years I felt real love for my mother.
Aunt Liz had managed to get both Carl's and Harry's cock into her mouth at once, sucking the limpness out of them and making them as hard as ever again. She took her time about it, obviously relishing the sensation of so much male virility in her mouth, but eventually the cocks grew too big for her to contain them any longer.
“Carl,” said my mother in an authoritative voice, “do my daughter, would you?” It was as though we were at the beauty parlor and she was telling Percy to do my hair! But then, as she'd said herself, it cost about the same. I felt a pair of hands turn me over on my back and wrap my legs around Carl's waist. I didn't want to open my eyes. Mum's thighs supported my back, her crotch formed a pillow for my head, everything was peaceful and lovely, and if Carl wanted to fuck me he could, I didn't mind.
His knob touched down on my cunt and for a moment I stiffened, wary of the pain of entry. But he was a real professional. His cock picked up on the moisture at the mouth of my cunt and spread it around evenly before coming in any further. I relaxed completely now, which made it all the easier for him to enter me. Smoothly, softly, his big rod slid into my body and began to wreak havoc there.
From the other side of the room I could hear Aunt Liz getting hers from Harry. She threw herself into it like a randy cow, moaning and grunting. I could see her out of the corner of my eye, fucking Harry as hard as he fucked her. And all the while Carl plied me with his wonderful cock, blasting my innards, setting fire to my blood, and displacing my tranquility with sheer horny licentiousness.
“Isn't that lovely?” Mum murmured, still stroking my hair. “Don't you just love it? It makes life worth living, doesn't it?” I nodded but it was impossible to talk. Carl stirred up my passions to the point at which it was hard to breathe. And each time my lungs prepared to try for a refill he touched down on some other little arsenal of pleasure, which would cause me to defer breathing a little longer. He was good, very good, not too personal, but a real wizard when it came to keeping a woman on her toes all the way to her climax. He pushed me into one after the other, all of them leading up to the major one. I barely noticed when Mum moved away from me. And the sounds behind me didn't register. Not till Carl had finished his little job.
As I lay there gasping like a fish out of water, it struck me that someone was fucking Mum. When Carl pulled out I managed to roll over and check it out Mum was on her hands and knees, hissing and squealing, lost in her passions. And behind her, ramming his cock up her as hard as he could, was brother Bob.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Bob looked like an attacking tiger and Mum was the hapless mare. His muscles bulged tensely as he hunched over her and drove his dick into her pussy as though it was an avenging weapon. He bit at her neck and there were white patches wherever his fingers dug into her flesh. Air rasped through his throat and sweat poured off him as he strove to satisfy his lust in one slam-bam fuck. As for Mum, she was crying out in ecstasy and anguish. She could hardly remain upright. Her head was down on her folded arms and her ass was up in the air, but she swayed precipitously with every mighty thrust.
We all sat around in silence to watch this event, the starring bout, the main feature. It was so obvious that for Bob this was a long-nurtured dream come true. His face was twisted in an expression of total concentration, biting his tongue, pushing, panting, his long dark hair matted to his skull with sweat. It was the kind of fuck that made us all quiver with empathy. Both of them were putting their all into it, pent-up, long-suppressed passions exploding into fully fledged orgasms. It had to happen-Mum crashed to the floor but Bob rode her down and continued to plow into her with unabated fervor. His mouth was wide open and biting into her neck not far from the jugular but it didn't seem to bother Mum. She just kept on bucking under him, gibbering and flailing her arms on the floor. Only when he was on the verge of blowing did she collect herself a little, just enough to reach back and hold his ass down tight to make sure his sperm would hit the mark.
A primitive roar rose from his belly as he fucked harder to deliver his load, and he kept yelling till his motions had subsided to a mere twitching. Then silence fell over the room. Mum lay crushed under his weight, crying and laughing softly. Bob appeared to be asleep.
“That was very romantic,” Aunt Liz said with a stab at irony. “Now come on you two, stop playing dead and let's get some talking done.”
“Yes, yes,” Mum sighed. It took her a while to get around to budging. When Bob wouldn't get off her she rolled him off and tiredly got to her feet. “Yes,” she repeated, “I suppose it is time to get some talking done.”
At first I thought it was very uncouth of Aunt Liz to disturb their post-coital bliss that way. But then, as I thought about it some more, I realized she was trying to lance the situation, to let out the oedipal seriousness of it all. And it worked. Before long Mum and Bob were seated with some distance between them, both of them smoking casually, acting as though theirs had been just another affair.
“Since this doesn't appertain to you two, would you mind fixing us a pot of coffee, please?” Harry and Carl nodded and left the room. Aunt Liz turned to us and began to speak quickly: “We've got to see our situation for what it is. If we can persuade your uptight husband and his daughter to join in with our merriments, there'll be an end to all the little problems we've had. If we fail to induce them to drop their defenses, could we overcome them by force of numbers? I personally don't think so. Not unless you want them to stop loving you.
Therefore we must formulate a plan of attack. Somehow they must be relaxed, put at ease, lulled into a false sense of security and then-BAM! Right in the pants! The question is: how do we do it?”
“Rape?” said Bob facetiously. “That's all that'll get to Nora, I can tell yon that.”
“No, no,” said Mum, “we must be subtle about this. We could get them drunk and take advantage of them.”
“The point is: would they remember it the following day,” said Aunt Liz. “I'm afraid none of these ideas is worth a cracker. What about you, Kathy, you're looking very thoughtful there.”
“I am thoughtful, actually,” I said. “I figured that, since they're afraid to go into new areas of experience they will resist all but the most overpowering kind of persuasion. You see, when I didn't know any better I had to be coerced into doing that which I really wanted to do. At school it was called initiation.” I told them about the whole process, including the promise exacted from the victim to lay absolutely still. They listened with great interest. “In unity lies strength,” I concluded. “If we catch them off-guard and all work them over they won't be able to resist- and before you know it they'll have forgotten all about their hang-ups.”
“It sounds splendid to me,” said Aunt Liz, and Mum nodded emphatically.
