I lifted his cock and fitted the sticky flesh into my mouth, tasting the sweet-salty-tasteless come that coated his prick, and I heard Terri's breath rattle in her throat, and I squeezed his balls until I felt his shaft begin to swell slightly inside my mouth, and then I released him... and went after my little sister.
Daddy slipped away from us as I used my hands to lift Terri's ass from the bed, and I knew then that he had clearly understood what I wanted to do and I knew what he would do.
Her fine little pelvis seemed to twitch as I lifted her butt and draped her thighs over my shoulders and for a moment I was afraid she would try to pull away. Then I kissed the center of her pussy and her reaction told me that was the last thing on her mind. Her fingers clawed painfully — but pleasingly, oh, so pleasingly! — into the back of my neck, trying to draw my face into her sopping little pussy, and her thighs trembled against my shoulders. I resisted her.
Hold your pussy open, Terri, so. I can see it, I said and it was all I could do to whisper the words. I shifted myself into a kneeling position, using my shoulders to raise her ass so high that she was resting fully on her own. I watched in breathless silence as she reached down with two fingers and pulled apart the tempting lips of her tight little cunt. It was gorgeous. As she spread it wide before my eyes, revealing the inner flesh that was slightly darker than the pink lips — slightly puckered from fucking — a trickle of come was released from inside her. I went after it like a cat goes after cream. I felt Daddy coming after me.
In the same instant that I clasped my mouth tight over her dripping little pussy, sucking hard as I sought the delicious come she had drained from his cock, I felt his hand reach beneath me to grasp my tit. I felt a hand swipe upward between my legs, stroking my pussy; and I felt my flesh being spread wide by the head of a cock. In other words... I felt wonderful.
I was near the edge of the bed, with my ass raised high in the air, and that allowed him to fuck me while standing. Let me tell you, there is no better way. Add that to the cloudy white come Terri was serving from the priceless cup of her pussy and you will see that I was getting the best of everything... from two people I loved. Cunt and cock. The best of them both.
In front of me, squirming in reaction to the darting of my tongue, the delicate sucking of my mouth, was a pussy that any woman would envy and any man would desire. It seemed to flex around my stroking tongue; it seemed to struggle to draw me deeper into its tasty flesh. And behind me, behind me... behind me!!
His heavy cock pumped steadily in and out of my cunt, spreading me wider than he had ever done, reaching deeper than any prick I had ever known, exciting my throbbing clit beyond imagination. I could feel the hair at the base of his cock teasing the sensitive flesh of my ass with each inward thrust he made, and I could feel the lips of my cunt being drawn outward each time he withdrew. For the second time that evening, I was getting ready to come. Terri beat me to it.
Her thighs tightened spasmodically around my neck, she almost smothered me as she used both hands to hold me tight against her cunt, and her clit went prick-hard between my lips. Her cunt was slack and wet.
Hot come exploded deep inside my gash, spurting from the cock of my father, at exactly the same second I felt myself reach a coming that was one for the books. For just a moment he held me like that, letting me writhe on the end of his dick, and then we collapsed across the bed. Daddy fell between us, and it was a long time before I could find the energy to raise my head and look at my sister. She looked exhausted, satiated. I winked at her.
"I had made a wise decision. Daddy would need someone when I was gone. Terri would be that someone. She would love him, as I had done. She would care for him, as I had done. She would fuck him, as I had done. A wise decision. One I was sure I would never regret."
A wise decision? One she would never regret? In view of the existing moral code in our society, that conclusion on the part of Brenda seems highly premature. For, even if the incestuous relationship between the father and his younger daughter should avoid discovery — as was the status of the affair at the time this case-study was made — Brenda is certain to be forever affected by the knowledge that she has not only violated the strictest of our moral taboos but that she must also bear the responsibility for whatever tragedy may befall Terri as the result of this situation.
Though Brenda deliberately avoids any expression of feelings of guilt, it may well be that the introduction of her younger sister into the incestuous affair was simply a method of easing the pangs of guilt that must surely have been present. An act — any act — becomes more acceptable to the human mind when it is known that others are so engaged. The burden of guilt becomes lighter when it is shared.
In these previous pages we have seen a case where the daughter was clearly the aggressor in the incest and one where the parties involved have thus far escaped the consequences of their actions. Many do not escape these consequences so easily, however, and many females do not yield so easily to the hidden, but natural, incestuous desires.
Chapter Three
A present from daddy
Mom says I'm a damned fool. My case-worker, Miss Taylor, says the same thing, only she says it in words that I only half understand, words that're supposed to show how damned educated she is, I guess.
Whenever Mom comes to visit me here at Juvenile Center, it's the same old line of shit. First, she puts on her bawling act, complete with the bit where she slobbers all over my neck and pats my shoulders raw, and then she says, "Why don't you tell the truth? You might as well tell the truth. You think I don't know that man?"
Miss Taylor is worse. The titless old bitch always sniffs through that horse nose of hers and comes on with something like, "Your total lack of co-operation shall be difficult to justify to my superiors, Melody. Why not mitigate your situation by divulging the truth?"
Fuck her! Fuck them both! How can they know the truth about what happened when I don't even know the truth myself? How?
That's what I've been trying to do — get the truth together in my own mind; the real truth, not the truth everybody seems to want to hear. I've been thinking on it for weeks, trying to find an answer to that question: Who is to blame?
It would be easy enough to blame it all on the old man. A dead cinch, as a matter of fact. That's all they want to hear. All I'd have to do would be start bawling, then come up with some shit like, "He told me we were going to wrestle, then, next thing I knew, he had... he had his thing in me!" and they'd all pat me and say, "Poor, poor child!" Fuck them! It wasn't that way at all.
Maybe the old man was to blame the first time it happened. I guess there's no way you can excuse rape, especially the rape of your own daughter. But it's a fact that if I'd known then what I know now, the whole thing would never have happened. How many broads have said that, I wonder.
I was twelve years old, cherry, and dumb as they happen. I mean, I knew from nothing. I knew I got that funny little ache in my pussy sometimes, and I knew it got worse when I rubbed it, and I knew it finally went away if I rubbed it enough, and that was the extent of my knowledge about sex. A real brain.
I knew that boys were beginning to give me a new kind of look since my boobs had started to grow into hard little knobs that ached almost all the time, but I can honestly say I didn't connect those looks — or even the few sneak feels I can recall with anything like fucking. I was pretty dense in those days.