It was, indeed, a classic example of how a woman gets the most from a man. And looking on in awe was Amy, receiving the kind of education from her mother's horny performance that made all her previous knowledge about sex before tonight seem as boring as an algebra class.
There was only one problem for Amy. After what her mother was showing her, there was no way she'd be able to resist trying it out for herself.
"Like mother like daughter," Amy sighed.
She didn't know yet who she'd pick to take her cherry, but, whoever he might turn out to be, she was determined she'd give him a piece of ass he'd never forget. In the meantime, though, Amy looked toward her mother for a few final tips on getting expertly fucked.
"Oh, Thad," Julia Winslow urged her brother, "come in me right away! Fill my fucked pussy with so much hot jizz from your cock that I can't stand how good it burns!"
"You always know when it's time for me, don't you, Sis?" Thad slurped at her tits.
"Got any complaints, stud?" Julia teased.
"More like, do I have any choice?" Thad rasped.
"Hell, no!" Julia declared. "So what're you waiting for, stud? Come, come for me now! That's an order!"
"Same as always, Sis," Thad gusted. "You're the boss! I'm coming!"
His crotch bucked between Julia's thighs as she pushed up from the bed. Then, as though their loins were welded together, brother and sister held that position while his buried cock swamped her pussy's depths with gushing jizz.
The deliriously happy expressions on the faces of her mother and uncle something to behold, Amy decided that this was how she'd leave them, at the peak of their passion. So she slipped away, going back to her room and a sleepless night of making plans to put those same expressions on the faces of herself and some lucky boy.
CHAPTER TWO
The more she thought about following in her mother's footsteps, the more Amy's mind kept tripping over the boy who increasingly seemed the logical choice to fuck her. Finally it boiled down to one question.
"Why not?" Amy asked herself.
Yes, she reasoned, if her mother could do it, then she could too. It just made too much sense not to keep it all in the family.
"He's mine. Mine, all mine," Amy said confidently, definite she could steer her Mr. Right straight into her pants once she started working her new supply of magic on him.
It was dawn when she'd reached this unshakable conclusion. And so, to celebrate the fate she'd determined for herself, she finally dropped off for a hour or so of sleep. But it wasn't rest Amy was after and, when the alarm went off for school, she woke up coming.
Stevie Winslow dragged into the house, his book-bag feeling like it weighed a ton. Or maybe it was just the whole world seeming to be on his narrow shoulders. He was down, really down. And as is so often the case for a boy his age, a girl who looked like an angel but turned out to be a bitch was the reason.
"She didn't have to laugh at me when I asked for a date," Stevie recalled, feeling totally rejected.
He should've known better, he guessed. No chick who was really sharp would want to have anything to do with him. They all thought he was a wimp, and when he was as down on himself as this he really couldn't blame them. Skinny, short, freckle-faced and needing glasses to see anything, Stevie Winslow knew full well that he looked like everybody's kid brother instead of the stud he wanted to be.
"Damn, I hate myself sometimes," he sputtered, recklessly flinging his glasses away as a symbol of his frustration.
Almost immediately Stevie regretted his rash action. For without his glasses he was practically blind, and now he had to stumble around to try and find them. He could be here all afternoon crawling around on his hands and knees.
"Looking for something?" Amy then called from the hall.
"My glasses, Sis," Stevie said. "Sure glad you turned out to be here. My glasses, uh, fell off… when I, uh, tripped."
"Oh, and I thought you lost your temper because of Sandi Bacon," Amy chuckled, naming the girl who'd dumped on Stevie at school.
"Okay, Sis, so what about it?" Stevie grumbled. "Just help me find my glasses, that's all."
"I already picked them up," Amy revealed. "You threw them so far I could've caught them out of the air if I'd gotten here a little quicker. Quite an arm you've got on you there, kiddo."
"Just hand 'em over, Sis."
"Not unless you're ready to make a trade. I want a little information," Amy said. "About Sandi Bacon and you."
"I'd rather go blind!"
"Aw, c'mon! It'll make you feel better to talk about it," Amy replied, her tone turning soothingly sincere. "Promise that I won't make fun of you. There's just a few things I'd like to know, that's all. Strictly between the two of us."
Reluctantly, Stevie agreed to go along, groping his way to the nearest chair. He was so helpless without his glasses that his sister was nothing more than a blur.
"All right, Sis, let's get this crap over with so I can see again," he said impatiently, speaking in her general direction. "What do you wanna know about that damned Sandi Bacon and me?"
Her voice as soft as her question was blunt, Amy asked, "Does she turn you on, Stevie?"
"I-I thought you weren't going to make fun of me!" he stammered.
"I'm not making fun, I'm serious," Amy evenly said. "Has she ever given you a hard-on?"
Stevie was now stunned speechless.
"Would you," Amy calmly continued, "like to fuck her?"
The truth was, of course, that Stevie was aching to fuck just about anybody who'd put out for him. Just as the truth was that so far this had never been even close to happening. But telling this to his own sister was something couldn't imagine doing.
Amy, however, had no problem reading his mind. "You're still cherry, aren't you, Stevie?"
Even without his glasses, Stevie thought he could see the red glow from his blushing face reflecting into his blinking eyes. Then he heard his sister's footsteps moving closer to him, like she was cornering him.
But Amy's tone was genuinely sympathetic. "Sorry you struck out with Sandi, Stevie, but you're not the only one. She's just a prick-teaser at best. A date with her would have been worse than being turned down because she'd have left you so frustrated. No, if you want to lose your cherry you'll have to find somebody else."
Then Amy paused, as Stevie started to squirm. He wouldn't have believed it of his own sister, but the things she was saying were starting to make the blood that had reddened his face start flowing directly to his twitching crotch.
"Maybe I can help you," Amy purred.
Somehow recovering his voice, Stevie gulped, "H-help me do what, Sis?"
"What else?" he was told with no nonsense. "Get laid."
"B-by who?" he gasped.
"Would it make that much difference?" Amy asked somewhere in front of him. "As long as she was pretty and nice? And just as horny for you as you are for her?"
What his sister was talking about at this point was Stevie's most desperate fantasy. A girl who was pretty, nice and horny for him – how many times had he jacked off imagining that she was out there somewhere, waiting for him to fuck her and fuck her?
"Th-this is killing me, Sis," Stevie blurted out.
"I know a girl just like that," Amy persisted. "I'll bet if I described her to you that your cock'd get as hard as it's ever been."
Stevie had nothing to lose. His cock was already like throbbing steel.
"Okay, tell me about her, Sis," he panted, on the edge of his chair.