afternoon when I lay down with Adelaide and Caroline.
In my growing, so I changed. A moodiness would come upon me often. At mornings I would sit upon the lawn and pick at grass or gaze between the border-shrubs and wonder at the mystery of the small spaces in between the plants where the earth was darker, drier, than the rest, and peopled with a curious enchantment, as I thought, by reason of its solitude, its utter quiet. Leaves rustle, stir. The earth does not. It waits for that which is to be-the iron claws of the rake, or petals falling on its silent crust.
Mother would not come out until Bertha, Adelaide and Papa had ridden off, my sisters' bottoms perched like ripe plums on their saddles.
“What are you doing, Harry?” she would ask. Mothers ask the same things always of their children, young or old. It has long been my belief that all mothers have a secret book, replete with phrases, that they pass to one another and the which no man has ever seen. Thus, frequently upon my entering the house, my mother would look outwards to the hall-look straight at me-and ask, “Is that you, Harry?” even though she saw me clear. I have known other mothers say and do the same. Their phrases are identical-the intonations all the same.
Or, seeing me in a mood of sullenness that I did not even wish to have, she would ask, “What is it that you want?” and I forever saying that I did not know.
“That, then, is to the good. Beware of what you want, for you might get it,” Mama would reply. I did not know the sense of that, but later learned it, to my cost. My pleasure also, I would add. One must not be a hypocrite.
In that first moment, on that afternoon, I knew only the inexpressible delight of having Adelaide near-naked under me and I attending to her mouth while Caroline licked slowly at her quim.
My hands cupped Adelaide's face. For a few seconds she had fretted her hips. I had felt her do so in between our heady kisses, heard a slap and swallowed down her squeal. Caroline had smacked her thighs to make her open them. I cared not, for our tongues were lick-a-licking then, her saliva warm and broody to my lips, my hands shaping in wonder the proud bulbs of her hard-nippled breasts that I had never dreamed to see. O bleary wonder of it all, in all its suddenness!
I heard Caroline lapping more below. My sister's fingertips pressed tight into my neck. Her breath came hollow, hot, into my mouth, and then she felt down for my prick and traced the rigid outline through the cloth.
“D'you wannoo, Harry?” Her voice slurred-slurred with a passion and a slyness both.
“Want what?” I wanted her to say it, say.
“Fuck me-put your cock up, darling. Do it now.” Blur of the wonder of her words, a slow revolving of her hips to the teasing tongue of Caroline. The plums of Berthas and of Adelaide's bottoms perched upon their saddles: suddenly I thought of that-the dark and secret places in between their thighs, quims squishy, rubbing on the leather as they rode.
“Yes-oh god, yes!” I knelt, unbuttoned, pushed my trousers down while Caroline sat up and wiped her mouth.
“No, take them right off, Harry, take off everything. Oh, Adelaide, oh look-it's quite a big one-what a knob!”
“Oh!” My sister stared at it-my dangling balls-then turned upon her tummy, hid her face, but Caroline bent and rolled her over again. Then Adelaide looked up at my stiffened prick and put her finger in her mouth.
There are some who think of every act of love as much the same. For myself, I do not segregate the ones I most remember according to the postures one adopted or the words one said. Rather does each one have its own small tag. This one squealed a little, was held down; this one cried and kicked her legs; this one lay still and worked her bottom just a little to ones thrusts; another came and came-could not contain her cries of joy; one talked a lot, spun out obscenities; another was silent and breathed softly into one's own mouth.
I believe that I loved Caroline the moment I first looked at her-and yet, and yet… Once she was naked, tits a-bobbing, joined us on the bed, I knew a sense of luxury in sin such as I have rarely known in all the years that followed as I slid between my sister's thighs, drew up her knees and nubbed my helmet to her nest.
“Say you love me-say it first,” she whispered. Caroline turned on her hip and interposed her face and kissed her lips. The tingling of my knob to Adelaide's crisp curls was quite exquisite. To my own joy I did not attempt to enter her but waited on the moment, cock to cunt, she breathing softly, eyes in mine, as I moved it slowly up and down.
“Before you came I made her nipples hard. Tell her you love her as I do,” said Caroline.
I could not at first. My heart, my cock, my balls, were all too full. I remember that we both blinked in our waiting. First her finger in her mouth and then the blinking. What a curiosity that I remember those two things!
“Open your legs more, Adelaide,” I husked. The smile upon her lips enchanted as I spoke the words.- “Mmmm…” she uttered, gave a catlike stretch and nudged her right leg to Caroline's-formed of her slim, curved legs a V.
“Now fuck me, Harry. Do you dare to-dare? Put it right up me-let me feel you come. Darling, I want your cock inside my nest.”
“Who taught you such-to say such words?” I choked.
“Tell me you love me. You will never know. I was so naughty, Harry… OOOH! Oh yes!”
“I love you, love you, love you… ah!” All of a sudden I had slipped within, within, between the silken, clinging walls. Smacking my belly on hers, I grooved it up her to the root and felt my balls press at her bottoms cleft and heard the angels sing.
“DOO-OOOH!” she moaned and wound her legs up tight around my waist. All bleared before my eyes. She squeezed upon my embedded prick. Our mouths met, tongue to tongue. I worked her slowly, piston in and out, feeling a rapturous tingling in my prick. “N… naughty, naughty, naughty… GOOOO!” she whined, then Caroline embraced us both. I sought her bottom cheeks in turn, caressed the silky globe, found with my thumb her secret, nether hole and rubbed it sensuously. Her tongue then slipped between our own. We licked and knew the heights of ecstasy. I felt them everywhere-their arses, tits, between their bottom cheeks, and pumped my sister faster as we breathed our pleasure to each other's lips. Rockets exploded in my belly, in my mind. I wanted to fuck her ever, ever-on and heard myself a-moaning at their mouths.
“Don't come yet, Harry! Let me loose mine first-ah-OOOH!” She sprinkled, spattered, honeying my balls.
“I must, I must!” The fever was too strong.
“C… come deep up me-hold it in and come. I want to f… f… feel it, Harry. Yes, ah YES!” Her nails clawed at my back, dug in my skin. Her thighs were pincers, squeezing me. Sparklets of fire and snow-I loosed my jet, a jet so powerful and so thick she could not help but feel it hose her walls as gobble-gobble went our mouths, balls straining up beneath her bottom as I spermed and spermed and spermed-or so it always seems to one deep in the throes of hot desire.
At the last-at the last-in the deep trembling of it at the last-her mouth was glued to Caroline's. I felt her quiver, shudder, come again. A haze of light and ever-rushing sighs, squeezings of limbs, and sinking, sinking, sinking, we were done. In the last ecstasies I loosed a thinner jet and heard her breath hiss up-into her nostrils at the feel of it. Falling like Autumn leaves, away, away. The bed ceased tinkling and a sudden quiet fell over us. Hands fondled gently, held to what they held like babies who hold rattles in their sleep. And Caroline's warm bottom on my palm.
“Nice, it was nice-oh, Harry, it was nice.” A long sweet kiss from Adelaide, cock slipping from her creamy pot, brushing the lips that love had swollen up. Last pressure of our bellies and we slipped apart-logs severed by the axe of dying lust.
I lay upon my back, stared at the ceiling and its plaster wreathes, its roses and its ringlets all about. Heaven above me and beside me now. Then Caroline came over both of us-a flash of legs, dark bush and bulbing tits-and had me in the middle of the two. I held their hands. We lay like children and lay quiet.
“One never comes so much as when it's naughty and one shouldn't do.” Thus Caroline who nuzzled her nose into my neck. I wanted to tell her then that I adored her breath-even her breath-but words were faint within me then, the dying, slackening, of my turgid cock. “You should have done it with her before,” she whispered. Adelaide said “Shush!” and rolled on her hip but held my hand still, pressed her bottom to my thigh.-“He never wanted to,” she said.
“Did!” I rejoined, though never had the thought engaged my mind.-“Didn't!” she giggled, curved her foot and scratched my leg, so causing me to utter “ow!”
