Busying herself by clearing off the table and tidying the kitchen swiftly, Lauralee hope so. Even though she had let herself go sexually, fucking gaily and riotously in tempestuous incest, she was nervous about meeting Bettina's father and mother. She kept telling herself that they felt the same about screwing, that they had made it with their own daughter and her son, but still she couldn't dispel a hovering cloud of anxiety.
She heard the front door open and close, and a deep voice that mingled with Bettina's glad cry of greeting. Her hands gripped the edge of the sink until Robbie came up behind her to press gently against the cheeks of her ass.
'It's okay, Mom; just hand loose, baby.'
Lauralee turned to face them, but only a man stood beside Bettina, and the girl said, 'Wouldn't you know? Mom's sister got sick this morning, and yelled for help. Mother said she shouldn't have to stay over there more than a day, at the most…'
The man was wide-shouldered and powerfully built, his chest deep and his face rugged. Chris Hartmann was almost bald, she saw, and for a fleeting instant compared him with her former husband. Marshall was taller and had a heavy shock of thick hair; he was handsomer too. But there was something compelling about this man, an aura of sensuality and certainty that was attractive, and she thought that even if she didn't know Chris Hartmann had fucked his own daughter when she was younger, she would still be drawn to him.
'Well,' Chris Hartmann said, 'I know Robbie is a good-looking kid, and I see where he inherited his looks.' He came close and held out his hand.
Lauralee took it, feeling warm strength close about her fingers. She was a tiny bit flustered, like a teenager meeting a blind date. 'Thank you. I – will you have some coffee – perhaps brandy with it?'
His eyes touched her body, slid down into the opening of her robe to feel along the dusky cleft between her breasts. Lauralee drew a deep breath, lifting her tits, and Chris' eyes lingered upon their lush mound, at the anticipatory stiffening of her nipples.
'Yeah,' Chris answered, 'please.' Tearing away his eyes, he said to the kids, 'You two look as if you've been busier than ever, and I don't blame you.'
Bettina gave her father a heavy-lidded smile. 'We missed you and Mom, though. But I can wait a little longer, Daddy. You and Lauralee get to know each other.' Taking Robbie by the hand, she led the boy from the room, back down the hallway.
Nervously, Lauralee poured brandy and coffee, her hands shaking a bit and a tremble moving within her tummy. It was almost like being a whore, she thought, seeing a man for the first time, an utter stranger, and knowing that they were going to fuck. Maybe whores had no choice, and were forced to accept any customer, but Lauralee WANTED to screw this stranger, to know the feel of a different male body against her own and penetrating her softly giving flesh. She wanted to go exploring along the many and varied pathways of sensual love, to learn and to do.
'Here's to the kids,' she said, lifting her cup in a casual toast. 'I'm glad they're married.'
Chris saluted her with his own cup, and with those probing eyes. 'Me, too. Making it with a guy's's wife adds a fillip to the goodies, even though the wife is my own daughter. Bettina told you about that?'
Nodding, Lauralee answered softly, 'Yes, she did. And it wasn't a confession, but a proud telling. I-I know how she feels, in reverse.'
He drained his cup. 'It bothered me some, at first. She's so small and I thought I was some kind of nut, throwing it to my own kid that way. But I couldn't stay away from her, and pretty soon, I admitted I didn't want to. Then, when Robbie came along I was kind of jealous, but not for long; especially when he did us all a favor by laying my wife. After that, it got even better for everybody, and I rediscovered just what a juicy hot woman Jessica is.' He looked at her, 'And now, there's you.'
'Yes,' she said quietly, 'there's me.'
'You feel a little funny, a little edgy?' Chris asked.
She nodded, 'And you?'
'Yeah – but I keep wanting to reach out and see if you're real.'
Lauralee put down her cup. 'Then do it.'
As the man stood up and began to drop off his shirt and pants, she turned on the breakfast stool, swivelling in the chair and fumbling with the belt of her robe. Lauralee stared at the chunky body that was being swiftly exposed, the hairy chest and muscular belly, the heavy bulge in his jockey shorts.
Chris' prick was bigger than her son's, bigger than she remembered her husband's being. When it leaped from his shorts, she saw that it was thick and long, a massive shaft throbbing with energy, the puffy head dark and engorged, a veritable club with a knotted end. His pubic hair had reddish glints in its rich brown curls, and the hair marched right up his belly, its thin line spreading when it reached the barrel chest. The man's balls swung hugely low in a wrinkled sack.
Lauralee's robe fell open down the front, and she made a tentative motion, as if to lower herself from the barstool, but he glided toward her and put his squared hands upon her hips.
'Just like this,' he said huskily. 'I never saw such beautiful, long legs, and your pussy hair looks a foot deep, all black and shiny. Your tits aren't big, but they make a man's hands itch to cup them.'
'I-I can go to the couch in the living room,' Lauralee whispered.
'Right her is fine,' Chris said, 'I don't want to wait a second longer to get into you, baby. I can't move back from that gorgeous snatch.'
His hand dipped beneath her robe and found her swollen breasts. Lauralee parted her knees and Chris moved between them, that heavy cock jerking hungrily as it touched the sensitive skin of her belly. She quivered, realizing that it was going to happen right now, with no more preliminaries, without either of them having to play coy little games. They were going to FUCK, right here in her kitchen, and he was so horny that he didn't even want her to climb off the stool. It was nice to be needed that urgently.
Hands gentle upon her vibrant breasts, Chris moved his hips, so that his distended cockhead slid over her tummy, and his mouth came closer to her own. Her face was just about on a level with his, and she looked directly into his eyes as their lips met, seeing the hot desires flaming there. Thick and hard, slippery and hot, the man's tongue slipped into her mouth, and her own tongue attacked it greedily.
Rolling her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, Chris pressed them down into the globes of her breasts, then allowed the erectile points to spring back against he palms of his hands, cupping the mounds, fondling them. That sturdy prick bumped her belly, and Lauralee spread her thighs wider to feel the weighted sack of the man's balls. With his mouth still glued to hers, Chris let go of her tits and slipped one hand down to her thigh. The other was tilting his flanged knob downward and steering it blunt, sticky point into the thick fleece of her pubic mound.
Lifting her knees a bit, Lauralee edged forward on the stool, so that the probing glans could reach her labia more easily, and shuddered when she felt it nudging, pushing against her dampened cunt lips. She put her arms around his neck and her breath panted hotly steady pressure of his cockhead.
Against her teeth, he whispered, 'Oh yeah, baby. Soft, hot pussy lips, all slidy and wiggling – opening for my prick – it's working on up into you, baby – sliding up into your juicy snatch inch by inch.'
She hissed back, rolling her crotch to assist the seating of the gorged meat. 'This is only the third prick I've ever known – my husband's, then my son's, and now yours. Oh Chris, Chris – your cock is so much bigger than either of theirs; it's filling up my pussy, packing it so nicely.'
His shaft pushed on, until her cunt lips were squeezed down around its wide stem and the padding of their pubic hair was mingled as their crotches ground together in mutual passion.
'Socked into your cunt,' Chris gasped then. 'I've got it shoved home right to the balls, Lauralee. Wrap those long, slick legs around me, darling – just hold on because I'm going to fuck you right on through the back of that stool!'
'Do it!' Lauralee groaned. 'Fuck me hard and fuck me mean, lover – try to rip me open with that big, beautiful fat prick – screw me harder than Robbie can, meaner than my husband ever dared – do it, do it, you stiff-cocked son of a bitch!'
Her legs clung frantically to his waist, locked and crossed at the ankles, and Lauralee jammed it to him, sliding her seething pussy back and forth upon the round, strong pole, wheeling her taut ass in avid circles and digging the points of her breasts into the thrillingly hairy expanse of his chest.
New prick, different prick; strange lover, now with his hands upon her waist to try to hold her in position while
