Slowly, still moaning, her body relaxed and her lips responded to mine with a voluptuous swirling of her tasty tongue. In that short span of time, I had transformed my sister from an innocent girl to a passionate woman whose virginity was gone, its ragged remains clenched firmly about the cock that throbbed deep in her cunt.
She winced when I began pulling my tool outward. The cuntal tissues clung to, its thick stem like weeping lovers, embracing it with restraining grip until the rim of the swollen head was trapped by the elastic circle of her entrance.
I paused there, suddenly aware that I was about to provide her with the first of a long series of satisfying thrusts. In the years to come, she would probably welcome a hundred different pricks into that pliant snatch. But I was first. It was my cock which was about to provide her first, wonderful fuck.
It was my first one, too. But I didn't think about that until later. I knew there was no barrier in that delightful cunt now. I could slide in and out with nothing but the hot resistance of the clenching tissues to slow my stroking.
"Uuuuuhhhhhhhhh!"
It wasn't a cry of pain this time. My prick slipped into her like a well oiled piston, boring past the mouth of her womb and ramming its head into the shivering tissues that seemed to fold themselves about it in happy welcome.
Nadine's legs wrapped about my waist and her ass began performing the same gyrations I had witnessed when Sammy Fain and I had slipped into the burlesque house and watched the strippers bump and grind their sequin-covered cunts to the savage beat of a bass drum.
Nadine didn't need a drum. I was supplying the beat with the in-and-out motion of my man-sized prick and she was following the rhythm with a writhing of her sweet young ass which, even today, I can describe only as perfect.
Her cuntal walls were exuding a warm, slippery juice that made my passage easier and I increased the speed of my strokes, slapping my belly against hers and mashing those glorious tits with the pressure of my chest as I fucked her.
Nadine didn't wait for me. The frictioning of my cock through her excited vagina brought her to a writhing, bucking climax before I had rammed her more than twenty times. I didn't know what to do when her cunt began clamping my prick with powerful shudders and she started gasping as if I was hurting her with each shove. I couldn't have stopped even if her implied pain had been real. It felt too good.
I kept pounding and her cunt shivered and convulsed, becoming even hotter and slicker than before. Then the channel seemed to relax and, for a few strokes, she didn't move her ass. It was still tight, but the muscles and tissues seemed more pliant, yielding to my thrusts with less resistance than before. And, when she began grinding it up again, there was a greater freedom in the swing of her agile hips.
I hit the short rows and hunched like a sex starved hound, my ass bouncing between her thighs and my cock stabbing in and out of her pussy faster than I would have believed possible. The sensations were becoming more powerful, tightening the cord of ecstasy in my balls and drawing it until I was gasping with the smashing waves of pleasure.
Nadine realized, with her newly discovered femininity, that I was about to unload in her belly and for one tiny instant she hesitated, her hips freezing in position as she pondered the consequences of my sperm boiling up into her fallopian tubes. But the fear was swept aside by the battering surges of sensual delight as my cock drove in and out, tugging and pressing her clitoris with each stroke. Her legs tightened and she fucked back with little cries of anticipation as my prick bulged with the swift rush of semen and my come spurted into her pussy, welcomed by that torrid suction in a series of vaginal contortions that left me panting and drained.
She didn't let me get off. Only when she was certain that I would resume that fantastic frictioning of her freshly awakened cunt did she release me just long enough to roll over and urge me to enter her from the rear, humping her ass back to receive my deep thrusts as I massaged her clit with one hand and fondled her swaying tits with the other.
That was my sister, Nadine, now Mrs. George Harley and mother of the fifteen-year-old Kitty. We managed several delightful romps before the wedding and I had banged her a dozen times over the years, tapering off when I moved to Densley and sold my first novel. I tried to picture the coltish daughter as I listened to the repeated ring, three hundred miles away.
At thirteen, her age when I last saw her, Catherine Harley was just emerging from the cocoon of awkward adolescence. Her breasts were promising little nubs beneath the shapeless school sweater and her legs already showed signs of becoming duplicates of Nadine's long beauties. She was a pretty girl, but possessed of a shyness which had prevented any real familiarity.
I was quite sure that the two years had changed her. But I was equally sure I wanted neither the responsibility nor the handicap of a teenaged wallflower for the next week. I had a sweet setup with Glenda and we had both adjusted to the Monday and Thursday routine, adding to the schedule whenever possible.
Glenda Walling was thirty-five, but her body had failed to keep pace with the calendar. She was still firm in all the right places and capable of fucking all night without letup. She was married to a colorless character who managed, she said, to get it up about twice a month and required two minutes to bang his way to ejaculation. Glenda, on the other hand, needed a steady and frequent application of cock. When, as a family friend, I offered to provide a larger than normal substitute for Clyde Walling's failing prick, Glenda accepted with a willingness I found highly complimentary.
Glenda and Clyde had one child, a daughter. Velvet was sixteen and, I suspected, no longer virginal. More than once she had rubbed her firm full breasts against my arm and given me a quick look at her cute little crotch by failing to keep her knees together at the proper moment.
It bothered me at first that Glenda was six years older. But she possessed that rare ability to flatter a man without being embarrassingly transparent about it. She praised my writing, which I privately considered mediocre, and waded through every book and article I had ground out, quoting whole passages to me while I was working my cock in and out of her highly receptive cunt. For Hemingway or Faulkner, that sort of tribute might have proved disconcerting. But, since the novels I turn out are more accurately described as "fuck books", the lurid sentences provided a fitting counterpoint to the clutching arid fluttering of her highly skilled pussy.
Poor Clyde gave no indication that he suspected anything between me and his amorous spouse. Or, if he did, he accepted it without comment.
Velvet, however, was almost certain that her mother was being fucked to a frazzle by "Uncle" Steve. She didn't really mind the possibility. Her complaint, unspoken but quite clear, was that she wasn't sharing in the fun. It was an oversight I would happily have remedied had it not endangered my romps with her mother.
Having Catherine (I would have to remember that she hated that name, answering only to the less formal 'Kitty') on hand for a week would rip my schedule all to hell! Some guys, I suppose, can go without emptying the ash bin for an indefinite period, but I get horny as hell after a couple of days without a piece of tail.
The whole bit was academic! I would simply tell Nadine it was no go, and that would be that.
I let the phone buzz for several minutes, then called the operator, asking her to verify the number. After a series of electronic farts and wheezes, she informed me that there was simply no answer. I dropped the phone into its nest and looked over at the one I had so recently vacated. My cock raised its head and Glenda supplemented its effort by wriggling around to where she could drag it into her mouth and provide a far more effective encouragement.
"There's nobody home!" I explained.