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A Visit To My Sister's

By: wide eyed dreamer



This story is purely fictional and only meant for the purpose of entertainment.

I have to give you a little background on this story. Casey and Jason are both good friends of mine, although I call Casey my sister. The reason I call here my sister is for the fact that we have known each other since she was 10 and I was 13. So there is no blood relation in this at all.

Well it all started on a Sunday after a hard nights work Saturday. I called my sister to see if her and her husband were home. I was in luck they were. They hadn't seen me in almost two years even though I have talked to them many times. When I pulled in the drive my brother was out in the yard working'. We sat the picnic table that they had outside in the yard. Jason told me that Casey was in side getting Mitch dressed. We started talking when the door to the house opened and Casey and Mitch came out. Well being the gentleman that I am I got up to give my sister a hug. She told me it was so good to see me and gave me the tightest hug she had ever given me.

"Hey are you going to stay for dinner, or is this just another one of your short visits?" Casey asked.

"No, I think I might stay for dinner. That is if you're not cooking!" I joked.

"Oh your going to get it now bro!" She said.

"Well guess I better go to town and get some more chicken if I'm going to grill tonight. Do we have enough beer or should I pick some up when I'm in town?" Jason asked.

"I guess we should have some more if I'm going to be her for a while." I said.

"Why don't you take Mitch with you, you know he enjoys riding with you?" Casey said.

"Hey that's a good idea that will give ya'll some time to catch up on all the gossip." Jason said.

I offered him some money but he refused my money. As Jason and Mitch got in the truck and drove off Casey had a different look on her face. It was a look like she was happy to see Jason leave. I soon found out that I was right. She soon told me that they had been having problems and that they weren't very intimate any more. 

"Hey wait a minute I've got some whiskey in the house if you don't have any Comfort in that truck of yours!" Casey said

"Well go ahead and get your bottle, I think I ran out after the party we had in the hotel last night but I'll go and check!" I said

Well sure enough I had ran out of Comfort so that meant we were going to drink what ever type of liquor that she had. Well to my surprise as soon as I climbed back out of my truck Casey was right there to give me another hug. There was something very different with this hug though. She pulled back a little and then she said something that will forever be the start of our new relationship.

"Give me a kiss bro, and I don't mean just a little peck either!" She said

There it was, the phrase that started it all!

"I don't know if I should, your married and you're my sister!" I said

"Well its not like we haven't kissed before." She said

"Well I know but dam it's been over five years since then" I said 

"Just give me one and shut up!" She said

Well I guess I just couldn't resist anymore. So we kissed and oh my god can she kiss. I couldn't believe that I actually did it. We must have kissed for a least five min. I broke the kiss when I heard a car pass by on the road and thought that it might be Jason getting back already.

"Look I we can't do this we're going to get caught by someone maybe even Jason!" I said

"Look he'll be gone for at least 30 min. he went into town. Plus he's got Mitch with him and that will slow him down even more." She said

Just as we were having that conversation Jason pulled back into the drive and a look of shock was on both are faces.

"I forgot my wallet on the nightstand. I'm glad I had to stop and put gas in down the street or I would have been in real trouble." Jason said

As quick as he arrived he was gone again. We both looked at each other and both understood that we just about got caught but didn't. So we sat back at the table and just chatted about things that were happening and things that had happened to both of us. It was about ten min. or so when she suggested that we go inside where it wasn't so bright out, since the sun had broken through the clouds finally. 

"Yea that's a good idea there sis." I said

"Kewl maybe we can talk about what we just did." She said

"Ahh ok." I said

So we made our way back into the house. I sat down on the couch and she excused herself for a moment. I heard her on the phone and soon found out who she was talking to.

"Jason is going to be longer than he thought the store he usually goes to isn't open on Sundays so he's having to go to Sealy to get the wings." She said



A Visit to My Sister's Pt. 01



Please vote. Thank you.

Chapter One

I was looking forward to this trip to Chicago. The thirteen-hour days I'd spent at work for the last few months had been about as much as I could take, so a two-week conference would seem more like a vacation than work. The airport's check-in area hadn't seemed too crowded - with a little luck I'd get a couple of seats to myself. I found my seat and sat down. No one else was in my row. So far, so good. 

I noticed a petite Asian girl making her way down the isle. She was dressed in formal women's business attire, a black skirt, white blouse and a black jacket. Because of her diminutive size, the large carry-on she dragged behind her seemed to be about as much as she could handle. 

She stopped at my row, looked at her ticket, and then looked at me with a big smile. "Would you mind?" she asked, pointing at her luggage. 

"Of course not." I lifted the carry-on into the overhead luggage compartment. It was as heavy as it looked. She took the seat beside mine. 

"Thank you, so much," she said. "I didn't think I'd make it here with that thing. I was at a training seminar and they loaded me down with about a ton of literature to take back. Oh, I'm Kim," she said, offering me her hand.

"I'm Tom." I took her hand and shook it. Her hand was half the size of mine, her fingers small, with perfectly manicured nails. I studied her face. Her smooth, porcelain white skin stood out in contrast to her dark, silky black hair. A bit of eye shadow highlighted her sparkling eyes, and her mouth, with its full red lips, seemed as if it was always on the verge of smiling. Although her size made her seem much younger, she was probably twenty-five or twenty-six. 

Any hopes I had about a quiet flight were soon dashed; I quickly discovered that Kim loved to talk. But on the other hand, what better way to spend the next few hours than conversing with a pretty woman. Kim had an engaging and inviting smile, and a way of looking deep into my eyes as we talked. Her facial expressions seeming to encourage me to continue, and soon we were deep in conversation.

She was from Taiwan but had graduated from the University of Chicago, she told me. She had just started a job as a pharmaceutical sales rep and had been attending a two-day sales meeting in San Diego.

"And what about you?" she asked.

"I'm on my way to Chicago for a two week conference. I'm a certified public accountant and it's sort of required we do this every few years. Keeping up to date and all that."

"Chicago is an expensive city."

"Well, I lucked out in that regard. I have a sister who lives there. A few weeks ago I called to tell her about the conference, thinking maybe we'd get together for dinner once or twice, and it ended up my sister invited me to stay at her place."

I asked Kim if she was married. 

"Just three months ago," she said. 

I congratulated her.

"And you?" she asked.

"Separated," I told her, "for about five months. We just couldn't make a go if it. My wife packed up our two kids and took them to Seattle, where she's originally from."

"Why didn't it work out? Did you cheat on her?" she asked with a little giggle.

I started to shake my head no, then realized I couldn't lie with her staring straight into my eyes. So, what the hell, I told her about the golf club I belonged to, and how a few of my buddies and I would play every Saturday afternoon and sometimes on Sundays, then go to the bar for a couple of drinks. And how there was a regular group of women, some single and some not, who would eat at the restaurant on weekends, then maybe afterwards have a drink at the bar. My buddies and I got to know them over a period of time and one thing would lead to another...

And San Diego, I continued, was a big convention town and tourist destination, drawing visitors from all over the world. I told her how every once in a while a female foursome in San Diego for a national nursing convention or some such, would come off the course, all hot and sweaty, and sit down in the bar to cool off with a drink or two. They would sit at the bar, their husbands back home hundreds or even thousands of miles away, and we would get to talking...

"I'm not proud of it," I said, "It just seemed to happen."

As we talked, I found myself occasionally glancing down at Kim's legs. It was obvious she hadn't spent any time in the sun on her trip - her legs were white and smooth. I could tell she wasn't wearing stockings or pantyhose, but with the temperature over 100 degrees when we'd left San Diego, who could blame her. 

The cabin was warm, and about an hour into the flight, Kim stood and took her jacket off. She sat down, and I couldn't help noticing the top two buttons of her blouse were undone. Kim was an animated talker, her hands actively taking part in the discussion and from time to time as she made a gesture with her arms, the top of her blouse would open slightly and I found myself getting a momentary peek at her breasts. She wasn't wearing a bra; she could get away with it because her breasts were small, and with her jacket on, no one would have noticed. 

The view was nice, but I was also a little embarrassed. I tried to look at her face as we talked, but I couldn't help an occasional glance a little lower. Did she know an extra button had come undone? Should I mention it to her? Did she notice my quick glances at her breasts?

From what I could see, her breasts were just as smooth and creamy white as her legs. Though small, about the size of a peach, they seemed to jut out proudly. There was no droop at all, in fact, they almost seemed to point upward. Every once in a while, I caught a glimpse of one of her aureoles. It was small, only about the size of a nickel and pink like a peach. I kept hoping I'd get a least get one glance at her nipples. 

As we continued to talk, I spent less and less time worrying about where my glances were going. I couldn't help it, sometimes I just stared. In the meantime, I could feel something twitching down below. Of course, the natural reaction was happening and my cock was slowly beginning to fill out the front of my pants. I put one hand on my lap and hoped Kim wouldn't notice. 

For a second, my mind drifted. Having a large cock isn't all it's cracked up to be, I started thinking to myself. In my lifetime, I had discovered it to be both a blessing and a curse, and usually more of the latter. Going through puberty was hell. At that age you have no control over the damn thing and when it got hard it was impossible to hide. One minute I'd be talking to a cute girl in the hall at school, and the next minute I'd be scurrying to class, hunched over, with my books held against my crotch. By tenth grade, it was already 9" when hard. I know because I measured it. And compared to the other guys I'd seen in the shower after gym class, it must have been half again as thick as most of theirs.

It made dating interesting sometimes. Most of the girls I was with before I got married were intrigued by my size, but some were put off by it. I remember one hot and heavy date when I was a junior in college. After some heavy duty kissing and touching and feeling, my date reached down to caress my cock through my pants. She let out a gasp and mumbled something like "You're never going to stick that monster in this girls body." Within two minutes, she was out of my dorm room and gone. Go figure. 

Another time, I was sharing beers with a good friend and his girlfriend in my apartment. He had to go to the library or something, so I agreed to drive his girlfriend home. On the way, she turned to me and in this peculiar, shy, quiet voice said, "John's told me about your, you know, the size of your, you know..." she was blushing, her face was almost beet red, but she continued, "he says he's seen you in the shower and he's never seen one that big. Is it? Is he exaggerating?" Needless to say, one thing lead to another and for the next four hours, I was happy to demonstrate to her, several times and in many positions, that her boyfriend had not exaggerated.

My brain snapped back to the present. Here I am, 10,000 feet in the air, trying not to look down my fellow passenger's blouse, or at least hoping she wouldn't notice, while simultaneously trying to hide a raging hard-on that wouldn't go away. But Kim didn't seem to notice, or if she did, she gave no indication. She continued to tell me about her childhood in Taiwan, how school there was so much harder than here in the States, and how she'd come to study at the University of Chicago. For a while, I was having such a good time talking with her I forgot about her breasts peeking out at me and the bulge that threatened to tear my pants open. 

There was a short pause in our conversation. "This is the longest I've been away from my husband since we've been married," she said. Kim's voice was very pleasant, she talked fast, and there was a songlike quality to her voice, but now she turned to me, looked me directly in the eyes and said in a very slow monotone, accenting each word slightly, "He'll be waiting for me at the airport." 

I'm sort of dense sometimes, but I got it. Without saying it directly, she was telling me, 'You seem like a great guy, I'm having a great time talking to you here on the plane, we're having fun, but don't get any ideas about taking advantage of the situation later. Got it, Bubba?' I got it.

The flight attendant came and I ordered a wine for Kim and myself. We pulled the trays down and after paying for the drinks; I turned back to Kim and asked her to continue telling me about her childhood in Taiwan. As she began talking, I glanced down and got a shock - two more buttons on her blouse had come undone! I did a double take she must have noticed. Hurriedly, my brain went through its calculations. Could this have happened accidentally? Should I say something about it to her? Did she know? If she didn't know and I didn't say anything, would she be upset when she did notice it? After all, she was a nice girl, and I didn't want her to remember this flight as the one where the guy had been staring at her tits all the time without telling her about her accidental indecency. After mentally reviewing all the options - it took about a tenth of a second, I decided that the best course of action was simply to keep my mouth shut and see what happened. 

An even bigger shock was in store for me, though. I was sitting to Kim's right, and as we talked, she turned her body slightly toward me. Kim's left hand moved to a locket she wore on a gold chain around her neck. The locket was a little blue carved stone in the shape of a heart. She began to caress the locket between her finger and thumb, all the while continuing her story. My eyes focused on her tiny hand as it played with the locket. Then, as she gently caressed the locket, the little finger of her hand hooked under the left side of her blouse and slowly, ever so slowly, her finger lifted that side of her blouse slightly up and away from her body until I had a clear and uninterrupted view of her left breast.

Kim never skipped a beat in her story. Her expression never changed She stared into my eyes as she talked but kept her blouse open for my uninterrupted inspection of her body. There were still no other passengers sitting in our row, and even if there had been, they wouldn't have noticed anything unusual - it was such a subtle move, such a subtle show. I stared down at her breast. It looked firm, like fruit not quite ripe. Rather than having a round shape, from the side her breast took on more of a cone-like shape. At the end of the small cone, sitting atop a tiny, puckered aureole, was a nipple that thrust proudly upward. It must have been a quarter inch long, and with its upward thrust made her entire breast appear to point upward. 

I think my cock grew another inch. What made the scene so erotic was not just the exposed breast; it was that she was doing the whole thing in public, to a stranger, in such a calm and collected manner. I was no longer hearing what she was saying until, through the fog in my brain, I heard my name.

"What?" I blurted out. 

"I said since we're done with the drinks, we might as well put the trays up."

I mumbled in agreement and Kim locked both our trays up. 

Her finger slipped out from her blouse and the fabric fell back into place. She gave our glasses to the flight attendant and asked the attendant for a blanket. 

"I'm not boring you with my stories, am I" 

"No, your stories are the most fascinating thing I've heard in my life," I said with a shaky voice.

"Should I continue?"

"Nothing would bring me more pleasure", I answered, honestly.

"My mother and father will probably be coming to the States next fall," Kim continued, "they'll probably stay for at least two months..."

Again, my mind drifted away from her conversation. With her left hand, she had again pulled her blouse slightly open. Her right hand slowly moved to the locket. She kneaded the locket between her thumb and finger. As I watched intently, her hand moved toward her breast, again fully exposed to my view. Now, instead of her locket, her thumb and finger began kneading and pulling on her nipple. I swear her nipple grew another eighth of an inch in length as she played with it. 

The in-flight movie had started and most of the passengers had closed their window shades to watch the movie, making the cabin partially dark. As Kim continued talking, this time about her experiences in grade school, she unfolded the blanket the flight attendant had given her and drew it across her lap. She reached down and lifted the right side of the blanket up, then arranged the blanket in a mound on her left leg so I could see both her legs. Kim's right hand rested on her knee, and as she continued her story, her fingernails made little circular patterns on her kneecap. I stared, entranced.

Slowly, the little circular patterns moved away from her kneecap and upward. One inch, then two. Gradually, almost imperceptibly, they moved upward. Her fingers finally reached the hem of her skirt and continuing their circular pattern, slowly inched the skirt upward. She continued to talk, staring into my eyes as if unaware of what she was doing with her hand or the effect it was having on me. My cock was throbbing. I had to reach down and loosen the seat belt to relieve the pressure. Occasionally, a flight attendant or passenger would walk by on the isle and Kim would simply drop the blanket across her legs until the person was gone.

By now, Kim's skirt was halfway up her thighs. She would alternate her little circular massages between the top of her thighs and the insides of her thighs. Sometimes her hand would be on her left leg, sometimes on the right. As I watched, the hem of her skirt rose higher, until the white of her panties slowly came into view. With her left hand, Kim reached up and turned on the overhead light. With a little adjustment, she focused it directly on the center of action - directly on the little white diamond of material she had exposed. She shifted her body a bit more toward me, and raised her left leg slightly. She shifted her right leg until it touched my thigh, exposing even more of herself to me. Now, Kim was making her little finger circles directly on the fabric of her panties. I could make out dark black hair through the material. 

As I watched, the material of her panties became more and more transparent and I realized it was the moisture of Kim's pussy gradually soaking through. The shape of her mons, and the outline of her cuntlips were clearly visible as the wet material clung tightly to her pussy. Every once in a while, Kim would slip her finger underneath the edge of her panties and push the material aside giving me a momentary view of her pussy lips. 

She continued tracing circles around the front of her panties. Occasionally, she massaged her entire crotch area with a wide open hand. 

Never once did Kim stop talking, and never once did she look down at what she was doing. Her eyes watched me always. Watched my reaction. That was the tough part - my reaction. I felt so helpless. If this had been another universe, I would have unzipped my pants and taken her right then and there. My cock was throbbing. I was afraid I might cum in my pants at any moment.

Kim continued talking. Now, she was telling me about her experiences at the University of Chicago, where she had majored in marketing. To my dismay, she slipped the blanket back over her lap. Her purse was under the seat in front of her, and she reached down and retrieved something from it. Then she did something that only a very petite person could do in a tight airplane seat. Her lap covered by the blanket, in one fluid motion her hips moved upward, she leaned forward and down, then sat upright. Her hand moved toward me, and I felt something drop into my lap. It was Kim's panties. 

She smiled at me, then put her left foot up on the seat, making a tent out of the blanket, fully exposing herself to me. Her cuntlips stood out in stark contrast to the dark black hair surrounding them. They were red and wet and swollen. I could make out Kim's little clitoris poking its head out from the smaller lips at the top of her pussy.

Kim opened her right hand, and I saw what she had retrieved from her purse. It was a vibrator. A small one, white, perhaps four inches in length. As I watched and she talked, she turned the vibrator on and slowly used it to explore her body. First, she drew it across her inner thighs, gliding it back and forth. I could barely hear the vibrator's gentle hum. She moved the device slowly across her pussy lips, then down to her perineum; where she rolled the vibrator against the smooth white skin between her cunt and her ass, then slowly up again. She inserted it halfway into her open pussy, then slowly stroked her clit with the tip of the vibrator.

I reluctantly took my eyes off the action below to examine her face. I looked into her eyes. I think I began to figure out what she was doing. She was performing an extreme exercise in self-control. She was going to cum. Cum in front of a stranger in a public place without losing her composure, without letting go - almost as if it was a test. Can it be done? Do I have the self-control? 

She was talking about one of her classes in college when her orgasm began. She kept her eyes locked on mine throughout it. She continued her story but the inflection of her voice changed slightly and the tone became a little throatier. Despite her best attempts at self-control, her eyelids snapped shut, and slowly the milky white skin of her face began to turn pink and redden as the orgasm swept through her body. Her shoulders quaked in little spasms. And then, after twenty or thirty seconds, it was over. 


She brought her legs back together, smoothed her skirt down over her legs and folded the blanket. She put the vibrator back in her purse and snapped the purse shut. 

She turned back to me and asked in a casual tone of voice, "Now, would you like me to do you?"

Chapter Two

Despite me pleasant adventure on the plane, I was in a sour mood as the cab dropped me off in front of my sister's apartment. I'd helped Kim get her carry-on off the plane and because she had no other luggage, we said our goodbye's and she headed one way to find her husband, while I went the other way toward the baggage claim area. When I got there my luggage was nowhere to be found. Of course, I thought, my earlier good luck had to be followed by some bad luck. Such were the laws of the universe. I filled out a lost luggage form in the baggage claim office, giving my sister's address.

I was a little nervous as I rang the buzzer in the lobby. I hadn't seen my sister in at least three years and our meeting was certain to be awkward. Did you hear about Uncle Joe's operation? How is Aunt Joyce? That type of thing.




A Visit to My Sister's Pt. 01



I never really knew my sister growing up. I mean, I never knew her like most siblings know each other. She's eight years older than me, so we never really had a chance to play together or horse around like most brothers and sisters. By the time I was ten, she had left for college. After college, she'd settled in Chicago, far away from her hometown San Diego. In a way, she was more like an older aunt than a sister. Now, I saw her infrequently.

"Come on up. Number 413," the little speaker squawked, "Third door on the left." 

I pushed the elevator button. Nancy Clark. Never married. 35 years old to my 27. Nancy Clark. I suddenly realized I hardly even knew this woman who I was to spend the next two weeks with. My memories of her were listening to hours of muffled cello music from my bedroom next to hers. But she'd done all right for herself. Four years in college, two years at the conservatory, and now, first cello in the philharmonic. 

"Tom, so good to see you again!" We embraced lightly and I stepped back to look at her.

"You look great, Nancy. It's been a long time. Uncle Nate's funeral, right?"

"I guess so. Seems like the only time we get together is at funerals and weddings. Come on in, I'll show you where you'll be camping out."

As Nancy lead me inside her apartment I had a chance to study her. Some things never change, and neither had Nancy. Brown hair falling to her shoulders in an unkempt "I don't care what my hair looks like" type of way. No makeup. Loose sweatpants and a baggy sweatshirt. I had never thought of her face as being extraordinarily pretty, she certainly wasn't ugly, but not beauty queen beautiful. But then again, brothers don't see those things accurately. My sister's single most describable physical asset had always been her breasts. I think maybe big cocks and big breasts are part of the Clark family heritage. As a kid, I'd skinny dipped with Dad on camping trips, and he was every bit as big as me. And my mom's huge breasts had been inherited by Nancy. Now, though, it was hard to tell much about Nancy's body underneath the baggy clothes she seemed to prefer wearing all the time. 

"No luggage?" 

"No, the damn airline lost it. I suppose my suitcase will show up sooner or later. I gave them this address. I hope that's O.K.?"

"Sure, no problem. Have you eaten yet?"

"I'm not hungry now, maybe a snack later would be good." I glanced at my watch. It was already 8:30. "I do have one request, though. I've been in this same set of clothes for hours. I'm sweaty, I probably smell, and I'm 'gonna die if I don't get out of them and into a shower quick." 

Of course I didn't tell my sister about Kim's performance on the plane, and how it felt like I'd leaked about a gallon of pre-cum in my pants. Plus, I hadn't had a chance to clean up properly after Kim jerked me off.

"Right over there," she pointed down the hall. "Until your suitcase shows up, I'll get you something of mine to wear. You'll look pretty silly, but at least you won't have to walk around naked."

A minute later, she returned with, I should have guessed, a sweatshirt and sweatpants in hand 

"Are you still a Scotch drinker?"

"Anything you have would be O.K.", I said, realizing that after the day I'd had, I did need a drink.

"I'll get it ready while you shower," she said.

As I turned on the shower and the warm water cascaded over my body, a smile came to my face, thinking about Kim jerking me off under the blanket. Her hand was barely big enough to get around my cock and she finally had to resort to using both hands. It felt like I gushed a quart of cum into the blanket. She carefully wiped my cock and tucked it back into my pants. She folded up the cum-covered blanket. "A little present for the flight attendant," she giggled. What a day!

The water was relaxing. I closed my eyes when suddenly a memory, a long forgotten memory from an event years ago, slipped its way into my mind. I was sitting in the front row of a darkened auditorium. My mom and dad sat on either side of me. The pianist walked on stage. Applause. From the wings, a figure appeared. More applause. Long brown hair. Ruby red lips. Full, lush eyelashes. A swirling black skirt that almost touched the floor. A white blouse that couldn't hide the curving, round shapeliness of what was underneath. She sat on the stool, placed the cello between her legs, and after a pause, began to play. She was sensual. She was beautiful. With each stroke of the bow across the strings, her breasts gently swayed. For some reason, I thought of the kissy part of a movie I'd seen on TV the night before, when a man and woman had held each other tightly. That's what she was doing with the cello, I thought. Holding it like she was in love with it. I began to feel something strange. My pee-pee was getting hard, like when you wake up in the morning and have to go to the bathroom, only this time I didn't have to pee. I put my hands on my lap, hoping my mom and dad wouldn't notice. The woman on stage was doing something strange to me. I had never felt this before. 

I was ten years old, and that was the last time I would see my sister perform in public for at nearly a decade.

*****

Nancy giggled as I walked into the living room after the shower. 

"You're right, I do look damn silly," I said. The legs of the sweatpants Nancy had given me barely made it halfway down my thighs, and the sweatshirt, no matter how hard I tried to pull it down, still left about an inch of my belly exposed. I sat down on the couch opposite her. She was sitting on an easy chair, legs pulled up under her, a red wine in hand. As promised, my scotch was on a small table beside the couch.

As we sipped our drinks, we got caught up on all the family stuff that needs caught up on when you only see each other every few years. I told her how mom and dad were, and I tried, and failed, to explain why I'd separated from my wife. I told her it just hadn't worked out the way either of us thought it should. And how Janet had taken the kids and how the divorce papers had just arrived the day before I'd gotten on the plane to Chicago. Nancy listened attentively, and in a way; I think it did me a world of good to let it all out.

"Hey, I've been doing all the talking," I said as I got up to refill my scotch, "What about you?" I noticed Nancy's bottle of wine was almost empty. There was a little wine rack on the kitchen counter, and without asking, I pulled another bottle out and opened it for her.

"What about me?"

"Well, who are you," I laughed. "You're my sister, and I don't think I even know you."

She smiled. "O.K. First, I'll give you the Mom report."

"What's the Mom report?"

"The first thing Mom will ask you when you get back. The subject she always hints at when she calls, but doesn't have the nerve to ask directly. You'd better be prepared because she'll give you a good grilling."

I chuckled, "Alright, give me the Mom report. Let's get it out of the way."

Nancy sighed and took another sip of wine. 

"Here are the answers to Mom's questions. No, she's not married yet. No, she doesn't seem to have a boyfriend right now. Yes, she did break up about two months ago with that Jerry guy she'd been seeing. No, there aren't any likely candidates for romance in the near future. She's an old spinster at the present moment, and likely to continue being one for the foreseeable future. Can you remember all that, Tom?"

For a moment, I didn't know how to react, but she lifted her drink as if in a toast, smiled, and gave me a big wink.

I raised my drink and laughed. 

"I'm not sure if Mom could take it in quite those same words. Maybe I'll edit them a bit."

There was a long pause. We both stared into our drinks.

"So why haven't you married, Nancy? Really?" I regretted asking the question as soon as the words came out of my mouth.

"Too many problems, I guess. I mean, mental things."

"What things? You seem perfectly normal to me. But then again, who am I to judge what's normal?" I was trying for a joke, but it fell flat.

"I just had a hard time with boys, I guess."

"Why?"

"I'll tell you a story. Promise you won't laugh?"

"Cross my heart."

"And promise you won't think I'm a real nut case or something?"

"Promise."

"I was a freshman in college. This football jock I'd met in one of my classes asked me out one weekend and somehow I ended up back in his room at his fraternity. We started, you know, making out. And one thing lead to another..." 

She took another sip of wine. "Well, I have this thing... When I meet a guy and after awhile, you know..." 

Again, her face flushed red. She was clearly embarrassed. 

"When we make out and...you know, have sex... I sort of lose it"

Nancy took another sip of her wine. 

"God, I can't believe I'm telling you this."

"Lose it? Like sexual dysfunction?" I asked, "Not being able to achieve an orgasm? That's pretty common. Lot's of people..."

"No," she interrupted, "not like that. The other way."

"The other way?"

"God, this is difficult for me. Yes, the other way. I sort of lose all sense of proportion."

I looked at her with a puzzled expression on my face. I wasn't sure what she meant.

"When I have sex I lose control. I lose control of my body. I lose control of my mind. I lose control of my mouth. You've heard the expression, 'is she a moaner or a screamer?' Well, I'm both. And loud. And words come out of my mouth. Filthy stuff that afterwards, I can't believe I actually said. I try to control it, but I just can't. I was in this guys room in the fraternity and when we're done, you know, when we're done doing it and I'm ready to leave, there are seven or eight guys standing in the hallway outside his room and they're all staring at me and snickering as I walk out."

"A few days later, I'm walking to class and I recognize two guys I'd seen in the hall that night. I'm walking by and I overhear them. One of them says he doesn't have a date for the weekend, and the other guy says, 'Why don't you call that Nancy, you know, the screamer with the big tits.'"

"And that's all I was to them. The screamer with the big tits. I didn't go out with anyone for a long time after that. That's when I started wearing these damn sweatshirts. To hide what's underneath, so maybe guys would see something else in me. Something other than the screamer with the big tits. There, I've told you. Weird, huh? Satisfied?"

I wasn't sure how to react. There was a long pause.

"But that was a long time ago," I said. "And besides, maybe now your reaction would be a turn on for some guys." It was all I could think of to say. Stupid and lame.

"But I'm not normally like that. Guys think they're getting shy, demure, cello playing Nancy, and when the get me in bed, they see this raving maniac. The guys I've been with are so shocked that half the time I never see them again." 

She paused. "Look, Tom, this is crazy. I don't want to burden you with all my baggage. Let's change the subject. Let's talk about something a little less heavy. You come to visit your sister and all she does is go on this big depressing life story thing!"


"You've had boyfriends recently, right?"

"Yeah, nothing really worked out, though. I lived with a guy for about two years but we really never connected, if that makes any sense."

"Hey, I lived with my wife for five years and had two children with her and that didn't work out. "

"But somehow, it seems I always make it harder for relationships to work out."

"You're being too hard on yourself."

"Look, let's talk about something else"

So we did. 

She went to the kitchen counter and took a key out of her purse.

"Like I told you on the phone, I have a concert in Denver tomorrow night. We'll be leaving first thing in the morning, so you'll need the key. I'll be back the day after tomorrow. Make it your home while I'm gone."

We continued to talk and Nancy told me about her upcoming six-week trip to Europe with the symphony. She would be leaving one day before I left to go back to San Diego, so I'd have to lock up her apartment.

"I envy you. Six weeks touring Europe and you get paid for it."

"It's not all fun and games," she said, "There's a lot of travel involved and in addition to performing almost every night, we have to give master classes during the day."

"Just make sure before you leave that I get some pictures of you in your new apartment. Mom told me to take some. She wants to see how her little girl is doing."

"Ugh! I hate having my picture taken. She knows that."

"But you know we can't disappoint poor Mom."

"O.K., I've had two bottles of wine. Take a picture now while I'm too drunk to protest," She laughed.

"I can't now."

"Why not?"

"Because Mom hates seeing you in sweatpants and sweatshirts all the time." I regretted saying it the moment the words came out of my mouth. It sounded harsh, but it was true. Mom was always going on about how Nancy would never get a man until she learned to dress right.

"So you mean I have to do a dress up just to please Mom?"

"Hey, don't blame me! She's your Mom too."

My briefcase was sitting on the table beside the sofa. I opened it and took out my camera. "Smile," I said to Nancy and pushed the button before she could turn her head away. 

"That's no fair! You got me by surprise."

"Again," I said, and took another picture.

Nancy laughed and stuck out her tongue. "I'll keep my tongue out until you stop taking pictures," she mumbled.

I put the camera down.

"Let me see them," she said.

"See what?"

"The pictures, silly."

"I thought you didn't like pictures of yourself."

"I don't. I want to see them before I destroy them."

"Give me a second," I told her. I took my laptop out of the briefcase and opened it on the coffee table between us. Within a minute or two I had the camera connected and the first picture on the screen. Nancy briefly leaned toward the screen.

"Ugly!"

"Come on, you didn't even look at it!" I said.

"I don't have to see it to know it's bad. I never take good pictures."

"Hah, because you've never had a great photographer like me," I said. "Come on," I said, picking up the camera again, "a picture for real."

Nancy sat upright in the chair and after a second or two managed a weak smile. I pushed the button. "Great! Now another one." She picked up her glass and held it to her lips. I took another picture. She giggled and held one hand behind her head in a mock Hollywood movie start pose. Another picture.

"Now I want to see them," she said.

I showed her how to scan through the pictures on the computer.

"Hey, you know what?" she said, "I think these might be better if I was wearing something nicer than sweatpants and a sweatshirt." She looked at me and we both broke out laughing. "The trouble is, I don't have anything better."

"Come on, you're kidding," I said, "you mean you don't have any other clothes besides sweats?"

"Hardly." She stood up. "Look, I'll make you a deal. You pick out some clothes that would please Mom and I'll put them on for her silly pictures."

She stood and pushed me in the direction of her bedroom. "In the meantime, I'll put some makeup on." She went into the bathroom, taking her wine glass with her.

I opened the closed in her bedroom. Nancy was kidding, of course, about not having any clothes. Maybe she didn't wear them, but she had them. As I looked through her wardrobe, a bit of frilly red lace on the shelf caught my attention. It was a little red teddy. I laughed, not being able to imagine my sister wearing it. 

I selected two outfits that I liked, and figured mom would like also. I carefully laid out on Nancy's bed. One was a simple blue frilly peasant blouse that seemed to go nicely with a light blue skirt I'd found. The other was a long silky purple dress like you'd wear to a formal dinner party. I remembered that Nancy was wearing some fuzzy bunny slippers or something so I dug out a pair of informal shoes in the closet that would go with either outfit. Back in the corner of the closet, I spotted a pair of formal black high heels. Might as well put them out, too, I thought.

Nancy was still in the bathroom as I sat back down on the couch. After a few minutes, she stepped out. What a difference! 

"You look lovely," I said. And I meant it. Nancy blushed. She had pulled her hair back giving herself a more formal look. The light pink lipstick she'd put on seemed to perfectly complement the color of her skin. She'd used an eyebrow pencil, and the subtle eye coloring she had applied seemed to make her eyes sparkle.

"No compliments, please. Where are these clothes you've picked out?"

"There are two sets on your bed. Your choice."

She went to the bedroom and shut the door behind her. In the meantime, I checked out the living room for picture possibilities. The beige, floor to ceiling window curtains would make a perfect background. A few pictures in front of the bookshelf would be good, too.

When the bedroom door opened I almost gasped. Nancy had chosen the blue blouse and skirt, and she looked perfectly stunning. 

"I think you'd better throw away those sweats right now," I said, "You look great!"

The top of the peasant blouse sat low on her shoulders and seemed to enhance the smooth curves of her shoulders and neck. I hadn't noticed it when I'd picked it out, but there was some type of ruffled elastic at the bottom that pulled the blouse tight around her waist. There was a treadmill in Nancy's bedroom, and she'd obviously been using it. Her stomach seemed tight and fit. Lower, her body made a smooth curve outward to a perfectly formed ass. The skirt stopped an inch or two above her knees showing off a pair of trim, athletic calves. But best of all were her breasts. Shapely and full, they filled out the top of her blouse magnificently.

Nancy, of course, ignored both my compliment and my stares. "Alright, I'm dressed up. Tell me what to do now," she said in ' pretending to be annoyed' tone of voice.

I had her sit in the easy chair. "First, we'll take a few here, then standing by the window." 

She sat on the edge of the chair with her back straight and erect. O.K., I can work with that, I thought. First, I had her look directly into the camera for a few shots. Then to the side so I could get her face in profile. For some shots, I asked her to smile. For some, I didn't. I had long ago learned the lesson that every good photographer knew - take a lot of pictures so you'll get at least a few good ones! So I took a lot. 

"Now sit back in the chair in a little bit more relaxed pose," I said. She took another sip of wine and slid back.

"Gee, being a model is easy," she said with a giggle, "I understand some people make tons of money doing this."

"Yeah, and some photographers make tons of money doing this," I said, pointing to my camera. "I don't think, though, that either one of us should quit our day job just yet."

Nancy's bottle was empty. I opened another for her and refilled my drink. By now, I was feeling a little bit of a buzz from the Scotch. Thank goodness modern cameras had auto focus. I took a few more pictures, some were close-ups of her face and some farther away so I could get her entire body in the picture. She crossed her legs and I admired the sight of her well-formed thighs. More evidence of time spent on the treadmill, I thought.

"O.K., some cheesecake now. Let's see a little cleavage," I said jokingly.

"Hah, you wish, mister," she said. But to my amazement she tugged at the bottom of her blouse causing the top of it to lower an inch or two until just a hint of the top outward swell of her breasts was visible.

"Satisfied?" she asked, sneering at me.

I nodded and took a couple more pictures.

"Now lean forward a little so we can see more," I said, again in a joking tone of voice.




A Visit to My Sister's Pt. 01



Nancy took another sip of wine. She scowled and stuck out her tongue as if to say 'Don't think I will, do you? Well, I'll show you!' She leaned forward, and as she did, the top of her blouse lifted away from her body and I found myself looking down at the top of her magnificent breasts. For a moment, I felt a little twitch below my waist, a familiar quiver in my loins. I took a few more shots. The twitch came again and I looked down. To my horror, I immediately realized two things. First, I had forgotten I was still wearing Nancy's way-too-small sweatpants without any underwear, and second, my cock had grown considerably and threatened at any moment to poke its head out of the top of the sweatpants.

I immediately bent forward and lowered the camera, using it as a shield to cover my crotch. I slowly turned and sat on the couch. With a little will power, I thought, maybe I can make it go down quickly. I couldn't let my sister see me like this. 

She looked at me strangely. "What's wrong?"

I could feel my face turning red.

"Are you sick?" She stared at my hands folded over my crotch, the embarrassed expression on my face, and it suddenly came to her. She smiled. Not a smile of humor, but more of sympathy. "It's O.K. Those things happen. I guess, in a way, I should be flattered. Do you want to stop the pictures now?" 

She seemed genuinely concerned, and slightly embarrassed herself. 

I shook my head no.

"Look, I'll go change into the other dress. That'll give you time to," she paused, searching for the right words, "calm down. Besides the other dress is less revealing."

Then it happened. I watched as if in slow motion. Nancy stood, turned toward her bedroom and took her first step before fully making the turn. Her left foot caught her right and her body slowly began to fall backward toward the glass-topped coffee table. Lot's of wine might do that, I remember thinking later. Instinctively, I leapt up and grabbed her shoulders, diverting her certain crash onto the coffee table to a soft landing on the carpet. I rolled once and ended up on the floor beside her. 

"Oh, my God!" Nancy moaned, "Oh, my God! Oh, my God!" She's hurt, I thought. I turned my head to look at her, and to my horror saw what her eyes were fixed on. During our fall, the sweatpants had been pulled down from my waist, and there, not more than a foot from Nancy's face was my hard cock, exposed in all its nine inches of glory.

I jumped up and quickly tugged at the sweatpants. "I'm so sorry," I said. "It just happened. I couldn't help it. We were taking the pictures and it just happened. I'm so sorry." I felt totally embarrassed and ashamed.

In the fall, Nancy's skirt had ridden up to her waist leaving only her panties to cover her lower body. The bottom of her blouse had pulled up almost to her breasts, exposing most of her stomach. The top of her blouse had pulled off one shoulder, exposing one side of her bra.

Nancy looked up at me for a moment. Then she looked down at herself and realized half her body was exposed to me. The she looked at me again, standing above her, desperately trying to pull the sweatpants even higher. Slowly, the corners of her mouth turned up. She covered her mouth with her hand and let out a small giggle. Then another. The giggle became a laugh, and then another laugh, and soon she was rolling on the floor laughing uncontrollably. "So, my little brother got a hard-on taking pictures of me," she said as she laughed. 

I was embarrassed, and she was laughing at me. For a moment I started to become annoyed, maybe a little pissed. Then I looked down at myself. I did look silly in her undersize sweatpants. Damn silly. Then I looked at Nancy, splayed out on the carpet with more flesh showing than hidden. I smiled briefly. A little smile. Then a bigger smile, then a little laugh, and soon I was laughing non-stop along with her. 

Eventually, Nancy stood up, rearranged her blouse, and sat back down in the chair. Now her voice took a serious tone. "I don't care," she said softly. 

"Don't care what?"

"I don't care if you have a hard-on. I know it happens to guys. I know you can't always control it. Let's get on with the pictures. I want you to take some with my cello to show to Mom."

"But I can't be walking around like this," I said. I had pulled the pants up as far as they would go, but my cock still made a huge mound in front and the head of it still threatened to pop out the top.

"Really, it's O.K. I just won't look," she said with a giggle, "A short stop in the little girl's room then I'll go put on the other dress."

I started to object, but she was already in the bathroom with the door closed. Suddenly, a stupid, no doubt alcohol induced idea entered my head. I ran into Nancy's bedroom, threw the formal dress under her bed, and replaced it with the red teddy I'd found earlier. I quickly ran back to the living room and sat down. 

"What the fuck," I said to myself, "Let's see what happens." I put another battery in the camera.

*****

"Very funny!" Nancy exclaimed. She stood at the bedroom door holding the teddy in front of her. "This was a gag gift from some of the girls in the orchestra. Evidently they have the same opinion of my normal way of dressing as you and Mom. I've never worn it."

"Try it on tonight."

"Not in a million years. Not in front of my brother."

"Hey, I already got a hard-on looking at you, it can't get any worse," I said with a laugh.

Nancy let out a little giggle. She stepped back into the bedroom and slammed the door shut after her. I had no idea what to expect. I took another sip of my scotch and sat back on the couch. Three or four minutes passed. 

Then a shout came from behind the closed door, "I can't!"

"Can't what?" I shouted back.

"I can't come out like this. I'd die of embarrassment."

"Why? You don't have anything I haven't seen on other women."

"Hah, hah!"

There was a long pause.

"Alright, Tom. At least turn off the lights."

"I will," I said, but I didn't move from the couch.

Another pause. The door to the bedroom opened. 

"Holy Shit!" I cried out. Now it was my turn to be shocked. When I'd thrown the teddy on the bed I hadn't realized just how transparent it was. Or how small and revealing. She had put the high heels on, too. Her head was down, her face and chest were flushed red with embarrassment, but there was my sister standing in the doorway showing me everything she had, from her long legs, her thighs muscles made taut by the high heels, to a beautiful, luscious, full round ass which the skimpy teddy did little to hide, to the brown hair of her pussy visible through the nearly transparent material, and up to her magnificent, large breasts with their aureoles two inches in diameter topped by nipples that seemed to be trying to push their way through the flimsy material of the teddy.

I was speechless. I could only stare. Nancy broke the silence. "Is it O.K.?" she asked timidly.

"O.K.? You look absolutely magnificent!" I said in a choking voice.

As she walked into the room, her breasts swayed slightly, but they looked hard and firm with almost no sag at all. My cock snapped instantly to attention. I hitched up my pants and grabbed the camera. 

As I began taking pictures, I asked for different poses, and Nancy obliged me. When she faced me, her legs spread apart slightly, the V made by her legs ended at a pussy barely covered by the teddy. And what wasn't covered was still visible through the almost transparent material. Her cunt hair was brown and neatly trimmed. The teddy hugged against her crotch, and I could make out the lobes of her pussy, and the dark valley in the middle. When she leaned forward, her breasts hung low and her teddy, loose at the top, revealed cleavage that never seemed to end. Her nipples made two little mounds in the red material of the teddy. When she faced away from the camera, the crack of her ass was clearly visible, her ass cheeks only half covered, and when she leaned forward, I could make out the puffy lips of her cunt from behind. 

I must have taken fifty pictures before Nancy put a stop to it. "That's enough, I want to take a break and have another glass of wine." 

She sipped her wine, and I freshened up my scotch. 

"Can I admit something to you?" she asked.

"Sure."

"I think I liked that. Having my picture taken. I mean, I've never done anything like that. Posing, I mean. With so little on." She seemed a little embarrassed.

"Hey, I guess I liked it, too," I said, looking down to my crotch. Nancy followed my gaze and laughed.

There was another pause as we sipped out drinks.

"Tom, can I admit something else?"

"Sure."

"It sort of turned me on. No, not sort of. It turned me on, posing like that."

I looked at her, not sure how to react.

"I'm a little drunk, Tom. And a little turned on. When I get that way I sometimes get a little crazy. I told you that. I've been to two doctors about it. There's nothing they can do. There's no pill or anything."

Again, I was speechless. Nancy's tone of voice had turned serious. There was a long pause.

"It's big," Nancy finally said softly, looking down at her glass of wine. At first, I had no idea what she was talking about. "I mean, your penis. It's really big."

Again, I didn't know what to say. "I guess bigger than most," was all that I could make come out of my mouth. 

"No, I've seen some in my life," she continued, " and yours isn't 'bigger than most'. It's huge." She kept her head down, as if embarrassed to look at me as she talked. There was another long pause.

"I want to see it." She said very softly.

"What?"

"I said, I want to see it," Nancy repeated.

Now it was my turn to be embarrassed. I could feel my face beginning to turn red.

"I'm not sure I..."

"Fair is fair," she interrupted, "You got to see me, now I want to see you."

"But I didn't get to see all of you," I said, "God, I feel like I'm eleven again, playing 'you show me yours and I'll show you mine' with the neighbor girl."

"Well, if you could play it then, you can play it now," Nancy said.

"I'm still..."

"Now!" she interrupted again. I was momentarily startled by her tone of voice. It was more of a command than a request.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Stand up," she told me, "and take off those silly sweatpants."

I took a long sip of scotch. Thoughts raced through my brain. All kinds of thoughts. What should I do? What were my alternatives? I let out a sigh, and shrugged my shoulders. Oh, what the fuck...

I stood and faced Nancy. I lowered the sweatpants and dropped them on the floor. Out of embarrassment and confusion, my cock by now was hanging down, soft, deflated, and lifeless. 

"Now take off your top," she said.

I pulled the sweatshirt over my head and threw it on top of the sweatpants. I was surprised by the thought that entered my mind next. Despite the bizarre nature of the entire scene, I was thinking instead about the exercise room at my club and how glad I was I visited it two or three times a week. I may be embarrassed as hell standing naked here in front of my sister, I thought, but at least I can be proud of my body. Not exactly Mr. Universe, but no slouch either.

"I want to see it hard," Nancy said.

"Should I play with it?"

"No," Nancy replied, "I mean, I want to see it get hard. On it's own. Put your hands behind your back."

I did as she asked. "Under this kind of scrutiny, I doubt it'll do anything without a little physical help," I said. 

"Tom, when you were taking those pictures, it really did turn me on. So much that I got a little...wet. I was embarrassed and hoped you wouldn't notice."

"I didn't notice," I said. I looked at Nancy. Her legs were spread just slightly, and I could see her juices had soaked through the material at the bottom of her teddy, making the fabric there even more transparent.

"Tom, will you play a little game with me? I want you to play my game. Because I'm a little drunk and a little horny"

"What game?"

"You're my brother, and I'm your sister, so we can't... you know. Right?"

"Right."

"Will you talk to me?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," she paused, as if uncertain whether to ask or not. "I mean," she continued, "Will you talk to me... dirty? We're brother and sister so we can't...do anything. But talking won't hurt anything, right? Will you? It would make me happy."

"How do you do it?"

"You just talk....but you try to forget who you are and you allow yourself to become someone else. Someone you wouldn't normally be."

Suddenly, I had a feeling I was treading on thin ice. Was this what Nancy meant when she said sex made her "lose it?" But then again, what harm could it do? Just talking. 

I had a momentary flashback to one woman I'd met at the club several years ago. When we got to the hotel room she told me her innermost fantasies. They were dirty, they were disgusting, and when we later made love she cursed like a sailor the entire time and I remember how I'd cum that night like I'd never cum before. 

I felt a little twitch in my cock, and suddenly knew I was hooked. I would play Nancy's game.

"O.K., I'll play," I said. I reached down for my glass of scotch. I was still standing in front of Nancy, my cock hanging limply down. 

"Can I sit down?"

"No, not for a minute," she answered.

"I'm just curious," Nancy said, "how many women do you think you've been with in your life?"

"The exact number? I have no idea. Maybe forty. Maybe fifty. I never kept count."

"And how many of those were after you were married?"

"Hmmm, maybe forty, maybe fifty," I said with a chuckle.

"No, the truth." 

"I wasn't a very good husband in that regard. Maybe thirty."

"Another question... could they all take your...cock? I mean, it being so big?"

"No, maybe five or six couldn't, or didn't want to try. In those cases, we'd find other ways of having fun."

"Like oral sex? Would they suck you off?"

"Sometimes, but the funny part is, the same women whose pussy's were too small for my cock were also the one's whose mouths seemed too small. Maybe they were just too intimidated to try very hard "

"I wonder if it would fit in me? I wonder if my pussy's big enough?"

"I think if you're relaxed it would fit. If you're tense and uptight, it wouldn't"

"It could be a problem with me. Remember, I've never had any children. The guys I've been with have told me my pussy's really tight."

I could feel a few more twitches running up and down my cock. It jerked up slightly from its drooping position, maybe half an inch. Nancy kept her eyes glued on it as we talked.

"The secret is a good warm up," I said, "you have to be relaxed."

"But yours is so big. Plus, I don't particularly like to make slow and romantic love, I've always liked it sort of hard and fast. A little rough. That could be a problem with a cock your size."

"Yes, or it might make it more pleasurable."

"After you saved me from killing myself on the coffee table... after I saw your cock, all I could think about was what it would feel like in me."

"Like if we fucked?"

"Yes, all the time you were taking the pictures I was thinking about us fucking. God, I'd love to feel your cock in me right now. Stretching my cunt wide open."

Nancy was still sitting in the same position on the chair, one arm on either armrest, her back erect, staring at my cock, which had risen another inch or two. It was now sticking straight out, pointing directly at Nancy. She took another sip of her wine, and I took another sip of my scotch.

"You really like sex, don't you, Nancy? You really like to fuck."

She nodded. Her face was slightly flushed.

"And what about oral, Nancy? Do you like to suck guys off?" Suddenly, I realized maybe I was 'losing it' a little, too. My cock reacted accordingly and took another small jump up.

Nancy nodded, keeping her eyes on my slowly rising cock. "When it's deep in my mouth, I can sense a certain quiver and I can tell. I can tell when it's about to start spurting, sometimes even before the guy knows. I try to open my throat wide so when the cum starts spurting it goes straight down my throat. So I can take all his cum without losing any."

"So you like cum?"

"Yes, I like to feel it spurting deep in my cunt. Sometimes, after we're done fucking, I put a couple of fingers in my cunt and lick my fingers clean. That's what I would do if we fucked. After you filled my cunt with your hot cum, I'd scoop as much of your cum out of my cunt as I could, then I'd slowly lick my fingers clean while you watched." As she said this, Nancy put two of her fingers in her mouth and began sucking on them.

By now, my cock was at full attention. It stuck straight up in the air, the veins on it red and throbbing. 

"And your ass, Nancy? Do you like guys to fuck you in your ass?"

"When you do it to me," she answered, "when you fuck my ass, I want to feel your thick cock stretching my asshole wide open. I want you to fuck it hard and deep. Push your cock hard into my ass. Squeeze my asscheeks hard while you fuck me. Don't think about me. Don't think about me at all. Just think about my ass and how your thick cock is thrusting hard in and out of my ass. Fucking my ass hard. Slap my ass now while you fuck it. Make it red. Make it hurt. And I want your cum, all off your cum deep in my asshole. And when you are completely spent, I'll have you lay back and I'll lick your cock clean, lick every last drop of cum off it. And then you'll watch while I squat in front of you and let your cum slowly drip out of my asshole and onto my hand. And you'll watch while I slowly spread your cum all over by breasts." Nancy was breathing hard, almost panting.

I sat down on the couch. My cock was hard. Burning hard. I looked at Nancy. Both her arms were back on the chair's armrests. Her legs were pressed tight together, slowly moving back and forth against each other. 

"I want to see your tits now," I said, "pull down the top of your teddy."

"But that's not part of the ..."

"Shut up," I said, "Show me your tits."

She looked surprised, and a little shocked. After a moment, she lifted each hand to the opposite shoulder and slowly began to lower the top of her teddy. The teddy caught on the fullness of her breasts, and she had to tug harder to get it over the barrier. Her breasts swung free and I saw them, uncovered, unfettered and bare for the first time. Full and round, they jutted out proudly from her body. Her aureoles were large and red, with nipples as big as pencil erasers sticking straight out and hard. 

"Have you ever had your breasts fucked, Nancy?"

She nodded a silent yes.

"I would do that tonight. I would stick my cock between your tits and fuck them until my cum spattered all over your face. Would you like that, Nancy?"

She nodded again.

"Tell me, Nancy."

She looked down, and said softly, "Yes, yes, I want to feel your cock between my tits. I want you to fuck my tits. To spurt your cum in my face. Yes, do whatever you want with me, Tom. I want you to use me. Use me like your cumslut. Fuck me however you want."

Nancy's hands and arms began to tremble slightly. She had started the game, but by now, I wasn't sure what was the game and what was real. What was talk and what was reality? My cock was harder than it had ever been in my life, and I was in desperate need of relief.

"Nancy, I'm going to fuck you tonight. For real"

"No, we can't. I'm your sister. That's not part of the game."

"The game is over now."

"We can't."

"Stand up, Nancy." She stood up, almost as if she were in a trance.

"Pull the teddy off," I said.

Nancy reached down and slid the teddy off her hips. It slipped down her legs and fell to the floor. 

"Now, cunt, I want to look at your body. I want you to give me a show before I fuck you. Come closer."




A Visit to My Sister's Pt. 02



Part Two - The Dancers

Author's Note: Please read part one first. Reader's comments are appreciated. And yes, Kim and Nancy will be back, as some of you have requested, but not in this part.

*****

I was beginning to get pissed. I mean, here I am with an evening free in the City of Big Shoulders, and just when I should be out sowing some wild oats, I'm stuck in the damn hotel bar talking business with Mr. and Mrs. Goody-Two-Shoes. 

The first day of the conference had gone well. The meetings ended about 5:00 and someone suggested dinner in the hotel restaurant. With my sister out of town for the night, I figured I might as well join them. After dinner, six or eight of us made our way to the bar. As the evening progressed, people drifted off one by one, either complaining of jet lag or remarking how early the meetings would start tomorrow. By 9:00, everyone had retired except Mr. and Mrs. Goody-Two-Shoes and I.

They were the Bennets, Roy and Janet, from Alexandria, Virginia. We were seated in a corner of the bar in one of those 'couch and easy chairs around a little round table' setup you see all the time in bars and lounges.

Roy was considering accepting a job offer from one of the national accounting companies. At a morning conference session, he'd found out I worked for the same company in their San Diego office, and for the rest of the day, he stuck to me like glue. His questions were never-ending.

Even though I'd just met him, I had the impression he wouldn't work out in a company like mine. On some assignments, I think I spent as much time wining and dining my clients as I did going over their books. Like in any large bureaucratic organization, your social skills were just as important as your technical knowledge, and in my judgment, Roy just wasn't up to par in that department. 

I studied him as I answered his questions. He was a small man, not very big in height or weight. Glasses, a little mustache, and he was the only one in the bar wearing a suit. He was probably about 34, maybe 35. Perhaps what annoyed me most about him was his voice which had an almost whiney tone to it. And the way he treated his wife. Or didn't treat her, to be more precise. She'd said no more than a handful of words the entire evening, and when she did start to say something, Roy would interrupt her in mid-sentence. She had a habit of looking at him before she said anything, almost as if she were asking permission to open her mouth. His attitude toward her was at best condescending - for the most part, he just ignored her.

"We're a two person shop," Roy explained, "just me and Janet. I do the CPA work and Janet is like my gal Friday. She acts as my receptionist and my secretary. Cleaning, filing, that sort of thing. That's one of the reasons I'm so tempted to accept the job with your company, I'd get the kind of backup I don't have now."

I looked at Janet. If she'd just been insulted, she showed no sign of being put off by it.

"Janet's here in Chicago more just for fun than to learn anything," Roy continued, "I wanted her to stay home with the kids, but she insisted on coming."

They were an odd couple. Janet was at least four inches taller than Roy. She, like her husband, was dressed in formal business attire. She wore a dark blue skirt, matching dark blue jacket and a white blouse. 

Dressed the way she was, I couldn't tell a lot about what was underneath the suit. She wasn't a petite woman, I could at least see that. Not overweight by any means, but not skinny either. Maybe curvaceous would be the best way to describe her. She had an attractive face and a nice smile, the few times I'd seen her smile anyway. She looked to be about the same age as Roy. 

A waiter approached us. I ordered another Scotch. 

"And what do you guys want?" I asked.

"I'd like a..." Janet started, but her husband interrupted her. 

"One more glass of red wine for each of us," he said to the waiter. He looked at his wife. "And that will be the last, honey. We've already had two."

Christ, these guys are really heavy-duty partiers, I thought as I glanced down at my Scotch. My fourth Scotch.

"If I decided to take the job," Roy asked, "what kind of benefits should I ask for?"

I told him about the retirement plan and the health insurance everyone was eligible for.

"At least working for someone else," Roy said, "you get a regular paycheck. In our business, we might make a lot of money one month, and nothing the next."

"And the hours..." Janet began. 

"The hours are just terrible," Roy completed her sentence.

"Hey, don't think the hours are any better working for a big company," I told them, "I sometimes work 12 or 14 hour days for weeks on end."

The waiter showed up with our drinks.

"And Roy, at least with your setup, if you screw around with your co-worker you won't get fired," I said with a chuckle. 

Janet let out a little smile, but there was no reaction from Roy. He stared at me with a blank expression on his face. A real fun couple, I thought to myself.

Despite my desire to get out of there, I did have a lot of useful information for them, so I figured I'd stay around for another few minutes. But ten minutes became thirty minutes and he was still peppering me with questions. Every time I started to get up to excuse myself, he would ask me something else. I looked at my watch, hoping he'd take the hint. He didn't.

One of my buddies back home had given me the address of a private club in Chicago where a guy with a hundred bucks or so in his pocket could have some real fun, and I was anxious to give it a try before it got too late. Maybe if I did something disgusting, he'd leave me alone. A loud belch? A big fart? 

Another ten minutes went by. Enough was enough. I stood up.

"Well, I'd better be hitting the sack," I said, covering my mouth as if yawning, "It'll be a long day...."

"Just one more thing, Tom," Roy interrupted. It was about the tenth time that evening he'd said 'just one more thing.' He asked me some technical question about how the company's bonus plan worked. I answered his question, but by now I was angry. Maybe I'd just try being obnoxious. Maybe then he wouldn't feel like talking to me anymore.

"Really, I want to know," I asked, "You two work alone with each other all day. Do you ever fool around at work?" I used the words 'fool around' figuring anything more explicate would cause both of them to go into cardiac arrest and then my evening would really be shot.

This time, I did get a reaction. Janet's face flushed a tiny bit. Roy shook his head no and opened his mouth to say something, but Janet interrupted him.

"Once," she giggled. "Once we did make out a little at work."

Oh, great, I thought to myself. They made out. They really live life on the edge.

"But someone came in and we had to stop," Janet said. She smiled and put her hand over her mouth. "I guess I only told you that because of the wine," she said.

"We really weren't doing anything bad," Roy said.

"I think if I worked with my wife, I'd be jumping her bones all the time."

Janet's face turned even redder. She looked at her husband, as if waiting to see what his reaction would be. 

Roy's mouth dropped open slightly, "Oh, we could never do...that... at work," he said softly.

"Why not?" I asked, "You're married."

"It would just be...unprofessional."

I've never thought of myself as a mean or vindictive person. I'm kind to animals and children, but by now I was getting hot under the collar. Roy was treating me as if I were nothing more to him than a database, and all he was after was to get as much data out of me as possible. I momentarily lost my composure. Hell, if he could annoy me for hours on end, I could annoy him back.

"Well, I think Roy's missing a real opportunity," I said, looking at Janet, "If I were in his place, I'd be in the back room banging you every chance I got."

Janet put her hand over her mouth, looked at Roy, and let out a small gasp.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I watched for Roy's reaction. Nothing. 

"You guys have got to put a little adventure in your lives," I continued, "You're in an exciting city without your kids and what are you doing at 9:00 at night? Talking about business. You've got to loosen up a little."

"But we're not that type," he said.

"And you, Janet, what type are you? The type who can't have fun?"

She looked at Roy. He didn't return her glance and she shrugged her shoulders.

Now that I'd started on my tirade, it was too late to stop. I looked at Janet again. Maybe I just wanted to get at Roy through her.

"There's nothing wrong with enjoying yourself, Janet. You should try it sometime, instead of simply being a mirror to Roy. For once, just try saying something on your own. Something controversial. Or something at least interesting. You're about as interesting as a wet dishrag."

By all that's correct in love and war, Roy had every right to jump up and punch me in the nose. I'd insulted and ridiculed his wife in front of him. But neither his reaction or Janet's was what I expected. I think unexpectedly, I'd hit a raw nerve. It was as if, without realizing it, I'd unknowingly turned over a rock and exposed what was rotten underneath it. 

Roy lowered his head and stared down at the table, his face showing no emotion. Janet had every reason to lash out at me furiously. Instead, she slowly lowered her head into her hands and began to cry. At first she was able to control it, but soon she was sobbing uncontrollably, the tears coming down in torrents, causing her mascara to run in streaky lines down her face. Christ, now I've done it, I thought, I've gone too far. Suddenly, I felt like a real shit. 

"I'm sorry," I said, "I had no right to say what I did." 

After a minute, her sobs stopped and she began to regain her composure. She used a napkin from the table to wipe her eyes, but large streaks of mascara remained on her cheeks. I grabbed another napkin, and moving beside her, stooped down to help wipe the mascara off her face. 

"I've tried," she said softly, as if speaking only to me, her head hanging low as I stood over her, "I've tried to open up. To be a separate person from him. But I can't. I just can't. In my dreams, I'm open and wild and free but when I'm awake my mind won't let me. Or he won't let me." 

Her voice began to trail off until it was nothing more than a whisper. She continued, "And him, he's deathly afraid of rocking the boat, of making a scene. And he's afraid of emotion. He's afraid of showing his emotion, and doesn't want me to show mine. He's afraid of exposing anything inside himself. Anything personal. Anything intimate. And he expects others, he expects me, to be the same. To keep it all hidden inside. And when he has... urges, I know he gets them, he's too timid to ask me. Too timid and meek to initiate anything."

"But what about me? Maybe sometimes I have...urges. Sometimes I have desires. But that embarrasses him, too. He won't let me show them or talk about them. So we never...do anything. When I was younger, in college, I could have fun," she continued, "But now... I feel like... like I've had the life sucked out of me. Sometimes I wish he would just go away. And sometimes I wish someone would just force me to be different. Just force me to be myself, without him. Then I could think on my own. Then I could be wild. Then I could do... what I wanted, instead of being under his thumb." 

Her voice had trailed off to nothing. She was sitting in a small couch across from the chairs Roy and I were sitting in, and above the normal noise of the bar, I knew Roy hadn't heard her whispers, and standing right over her, I wasn't even sure I'd heard all her words correctly. And if I had heard them correctly, I wasn't positive what they meant. But I think I could guess.

She had poured out her heart to me, probably exposing more of innermost self in that short speech than she'd ever exposed to anyone else. Without thinking, I sat down on the couch beside her, and putting my arms around her, hugged her tightly. 

"I'm sorry," I said again, "I'm sorry I hurt you." 

After a moment, Janet raised her head and let out a little laugh, "Hey, are we having fun yet? I'm sorry about that little outbreak. I don't want to spoil anyone's evening. Roy, maybe you should stop talking about business now. I'm sure Tom has better things to do. Thanks for helping us, Tom. We'll probably see you tomorrow."

"You're welcome," I mumbled, still feeling a little bit guilty about causing her so much discomfort.

Roy looked up at us. I think he finally figured out his question and answer session had come to an end. 

When Janet realized I wasn't leaving immediately, she turned to me and asked quietly, "What should I do?"

I looked back at her, not sure what she meant. She spoke softly, as if to make sure Roy couldn't hear.

"For hours now, you've been advising Roy about business. Can you spare one minute to advise me? You said I'm as interesting as a wet dishrag. I mean, in my life, what should I do to be more open. To be more interesting. Really, I want to know." 

Her question caught me off guard. It was much too serious a question to be asking a guy in a bar as he was working on his fifth Scotch. If I could answer that question, I'd be making $120 an hour as a psychiatrist. But I wanted to help her. What I'd done wasn't fair. I'd hurt her to get at her husband. 

I thought for a second. "Do something different, something you're not accustomed to doing, something out of the ordinary" 

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Go down to the lobby and sing a song at the top of your lungs."

She smiled, "No, really. What should I do?"

"Well, do something weird."

She looked at me with a puzzled expression on her face.

"Say 'Bozo'," I said.

"Bozo," she repeated, "That was easy. Am I more interesting now?"

"Um, wait." I thought for a moment, "Say 'Darn'."

"Darn."

"Say 'Damn'."

There was a momentary pause, then a quiet, "Damn."

"Now say it like you mean it. Say 'Damn!'."

"Damn!" she said with slightly more emphasis.

"How many times have you said that in the last year?" I asked.

"Counting tonight, twice," she answered, letting out the tiniest of giggles.

"My rule is, you've got to say it at least once a day, very loudly, to keep yourself sane in this insane world. O.K. now, really let yourself go all out. Be really wild. Say, 'Hot damn! I'm having a hell of a lot of fun tonight!'"

She let out a little laugh.

"Alright, you don't really have to say that."

For a moment, I'd forgotten that Janet and I weren't alone, and I got the feeling that maybe, for one brief moment, she'd forgotten about her husband too. Out of the corner of my eye I watched Roy sitting on the chair across from us. He seemed to be looking at us attentively; maybe he could hear what we were saying and maybe not, but for some reason he chose not to take part in the conversation. What the hell, I thought, that's his problem.

The waiter appeared. "Another glass of wine for each of them," I said, "and another Scotch for me. No, wait. A bottle of wine for them."

"But we couldn't drink..." Janet started to say.

"Shh! Be quiet." I interrupted, "Nobody's driving tonight and your room is only an elevator button away. If you don't finish it now, you can save it for tomorrow."

The waiter nodded and left. I glanced around the bar. It was starting to fill up with the late night crowd, a mixed batch of people like you typically get in a hotel bar. Some young couples just starting their evening before going on to the hotter clubs, to some older couples probably stopping by for an after-dinner drink before going to bed.

A band was setting up in the far corner of the bar. A young man with hair down to his waist was finishing hooking up wires to a keyboard and microphone. He couldn't have been more than nineteen. A pretty young woman unpacked a saxophone from its case. The third member of the group, a bearded man of about forty or so was already seated behind an impressive drum set, apparently ready to go. An odd trio, I thought.

Janet interrupted my thoughts.

"Continue my lessons," she demanded as she took another sip of her wine. 

I realized that Janet was already being a little daring. Sitting on a couch, in a bar, with a man, while drinking wine was certainly not her normal routine. Then I had another flash of insight - I think she was actually starting to have a good time. Maybe her crying bout had cleared the bad stuff from her brain, or maybe it was just the wine, but she suddenly seemed more relaxed. And I suddenly realized I'd forgotten all about leaving.

"O.K. More words," I said, "Let me think. Say 'I thought I saw a pussy cat.'"

"I thought I saw a pussy cat."

Now, 'The woman put the pussy willow in the vase.'"

"The woman put the pussy willow in the vase."

"Now, 'I feel a strange tingling in my pussy'."

Janet's face turned red. "No fair!" she exclaimed.

"Why?"

"Even if I admitted knowing what the word meant, I wouldn't say it out loud."

"But you've already said it twice."

"But you cheated. I said the word in a different context; a different meaning."

"But it was the same word."

"Same word but different meaning. No fair! Off the stage, you pervert," she exclaimed.

"All right, you caught me," I said. "How about this? Say 'cock-a-doodle-doo'.

"You can fool me once, but you can't fool me twice," she said with a smile.

I glanced at Roy. I couldn't figure him out. He'd shown no reaction when Janet started crying and still appeared to have no interest in taking part in our conversation. Between occasional sips of wine, he seemed content to simply sit back in his chair and watch us as we talked. Just out of curiosity, I decided to try an experiment; just for the hell of it, just to see what happened.

I looked at Janet and said, "Don't move, you have a spot of mascara there. I'll get it before it stains your blouse."

I picked up a napkin from the table and dipped a corner of it in my Scotch. I slid a few inches closer to Janet, until our thighs just barely touched. Leaning closer to her, I folded down the collar of her blouse two or three inches with my left hand, and with my right hand I made a slow dabbing motion with the napkin against the non-existent mascara spot on her chest. The dabbing motion made the back of my right hand rub up and down gently against Janet's neck. Out of the corner of my eye, I observed Roy. Again, nothing.

"There, got it all." I balled up the napkin and threw it on the table.

"Thank you," Janet said. I didn't move away from her, and our thighs and shoulders still made light contact. I could feel the warmth of her body through her clothes. Now, when we talked, our faces were just a few inches apart. 

The waiter returned with our drinks. The band began playing, and for a minute or two, we stopped talking and listened. I was impressed. The group started out with an old Rogers and Hart standard, and the kid with the long hair had a soothing, mellow voice that you'd have thought was coming out of someone twice his age. He caught the tone of the piece just right.

"Why don't you two go dance," I said, looking first at Janet, then at Roy.

"Roy doesn't dance," Janet said in a matter of fact way.

"Roy, do you mind if I ask Janet to dance?"

"No, I don't mind," he said. They were the first words he'd spoken in at least fifteen minutes.

"Would you like to?" I asked her.

"I don't think so, it's been a long time," she said.

"Hey, dancing is a big step in making you a more interesting person," I said with a smile. I stood up and reaching down, took her hand in mine. She shrugged her shoulders and stood. 

"Follow me," I said.

There was a small hardwood dance floor directly in front of the band at the far corner of the bar. By the time we got there, the band had begun doing their own rendition of the Stone's Brown Sugar.




A Visit to My Sister's Pt. 02



"I don't think I can do a fast..." Janet began saying.

I interrupted her. "Shut up," I said, "Let's dance."

The couples on the dance floor were a mixed match, ranging from young women showing off their pierced belly buttons and tattoos to couples in their sixties having a good time on their monthly night out. 

Janet had a way of moving that invited me to keep my eyes on her. Her jacket was unbuttoned and I could see her breasts gently swaying under her blouse. Her lush hips twisted in time with the beat. As we danced, her eyes would close for a few moments, then open, then look into mine. 

The song ended and the band went into a slow swing-era ballad. The girls with the pierced belly buttons and their boyfriends all seemed to disappear from the dance floor. At first, I held Janet at a distance, our only contact being my right hand lightly touching her waist and my left hand holding hers. I felt comfortable dancing with her, as if we'd done it many times before, and as the song progressed; I realized that I'd unconsciously pulled her closer to me. I could feel the gentle contact of her breasts against my chest. Our thighs occasionally brushed against each other's as we moved around the dance floor.

I turned my head and peered toward the far corner of the bar. Roy was sitting there, wine in hand, looking in our direction.

"So Roy doesn't like to dance?" I asked, my mouth just a few inches from her ear.

"We danced, years ago," Janet replied, "after we got married, but I think he just lost interest in it."

"His loss," I said, "you're a very good dancer. What's he thinking now?"

"What do you mean?"

"He's watching us dancing. How do you think he feels about it? Is he jealous?"

"No, I don't think he gets jealous, because..."

"Because what?" I asked.

"Because there's nothing to be jealous of. I mean, because we don't have a...," she paused, "we don't have a relationship to be jealous about. Even though we work together, we never talk about anything personal. We don't do anything fun together. We haven't...," again, she paused.

"Haven't what?"

"We haven't, you know...made love... in at least five or six months. I just don't think he's interested in me anymore."

She looked up into my eyes. I saw a small tear beginning to form in the corner of her eye. I wiped it away with the back of my hand.

"Hey, no more tears," I said, "Remember - Hot damn! We're having a hell of a good time tonight!"

I smiled and she smiled back at me. 

Sometimes in life we have to make decisions based on incomplete knowledge. We're given messages, but the messages aren't always entirely clear. At that instant, I think I was given such a message. It was a subtle movement on Janet's part. As we danced, one finger of her right hand lightly stroked up and down against the palm of my left hand. Her left arm, held lightly around my shoulder, slowly pulled me closer until I could feel her full, soft breasts pushing harder into my chest. She lowered her head slightly, until her face was nuzzled tight against my neck and shoulder. And then her hips made a slow, almost imperceptible forward motion until our lower bodies contacted each other, not tightly or firmly or roughly, just a gently contact between our pelvises as we danced. 

I knew her actions were a message. Whether done consciously or not, I wasn't sure. And the message wasn't entirely clear. Maybe I'd regret it later, but I made a decision based on this incomplete knowledge.

Her body felt so perfect, moving slowly against mine, as if we'd been dancing together for years. I was disappointed when the song ended. We separated and turned to head back to our seats. The group started another slow ballad, and Nancy tapped me on my shoulder.

"Just one more?" she asked, "I really like to dance."

I nodded. But this time it was different. This time I'd made my decision. Instead of taking her right hand in my left, I put my left arm around waist leaving nowhere for her arms to go but around my shoulders. I put my right arm around her waist and pulled her toward me. Our bodies came together. A soft moan escaped Janet's mouth. 

We began to sway to the music. Her body felt so good and soft and natural, and I became aware that my cock was slowly beginning to respond. I could feel it pushing against my pants, and I knew in turn it was pushing against Janet. I didn't care. I couldn't stop it even if I'd wanted to. And I didn't want to. 

As we moved around the dance floor, my right hand slid lower on Janet's back, until I began to feel the gentle outward swell of her hips. I held my hand there for a few moments. Then my hand slipped lower until it gently rested against her asscheek. Janet moaned softly, and I pulled her tighter to me. Her breath was hot and moist against my neck, her perfume sweet, sexy and inviting.

With my right hand, I gently stroked her ass, caressing it, then firmer, holding her ass in my hand, kneading and molding it like clay. I could feel the material of her skirt sliding over the silky texture of the pantyhose underneath. With every step we took, I could feel my cock brushing against her. 

I've always considered myself to be a good judge of people, but what happened next made me wonder. As we danced, Janet whispered something. She said it softly, her mouth against my neck, and I didn't understand her.

"What?" I whispered back. 

She drew her head back slightly, "I said, Fuck him!" she whispered a little louder, "I said, Fuck him, and fuck everything about him. I have my own life to live and he's ruined enough of it. I hate him!"

That was it. Simple and straightforward. And there was nothing I could say, no response I could make that would either help or hurt, so I just held her close and we continued to dance.

"Tom," she said, looking up into my eyes, "Tom, I would...." She paused, unable to finish the sentence.

"Tell me."

She was blushing. She stared straight into my eyes. Her lips were slightly parted. I could feel her breasts moving against me and I realized she was breathing harder. 

"I would...I would...make love to you if you wanted. If you had any desire at all for me."

"Any desire?" I asked incredulously. "Can't you feel me against you. I can't think of anything I'd rather do on earth than make love to you."

"And Tom," she continued, her voice still hardly more than a whisper, "I want him to know. I want him to see. I want to hurt him. I want to hurt him bad. Will you help me?"

*****

Life is a series of choices and at this moment, I considered mine. I should probably finish this dance, politely thank Janet for the nice evening, and leave. That would be the prudent course of action. If they had problems, I had no obligation to help solve them, and certainly no reason do anything that would make their problems worse. I made up my mind to leave.

I glanced across to the far corner of the bar. Roy had turned his chair to face the dance floor. He was watching us now as we danced. He was watching as my hand cupped his wife's ass. He was watching as our bodies molded themselves against each other. He was watching, showing no expression, doing nothing to stop it.

I realized then that I really didn't give a shit about their problems. I didn't give a shit about Roy's job offer and whether he took the job or not. After this conference, I probably wouldn't see either of them, ever again. 

But I continued to caress Janet's ass with my hand, and felt my cock rub against her with each dance step we took, and felt her breasts brushing against my chest, and I knew then that all I cared about at the moment was my own selfish needs. My own desires. Janet had said it herself. "I have my own life to live." I had my own life to live, too. The choice was made for me. I couldn't leave. And I knew what had to happen by the end of the evening.

*****

"Yes," I whispered into her ear. "Yes, I'll help you."

"But I'm not sure how..."

"Do you trust me?" I asked. She nodded her head.

"Will you do whatever I say?"

"Yes," she whispered.

The song ended and we made our way back to our seats. Janet sat on the couch, and I sat down beside her. Roy shifted his chair to face us.

"You don't know what you're missing." I said to him, "Janet is a great dancer."

"I just never learned," he muttered.

"She's a great lady," I said, "You're a lucky guy."

His response was simple. "Yeah." 

He took another sip of wine. For a moment, I had a strong desire to get up and punch him in the face. He was an unfeeling, arrogant asshole. But I quickly decided he wasn't worth the effort. 

I continued, "Your wife is very attractive. If you're not careful someone will get her on the dance floor and not want to bring her back. You might end up going back to your room alone some night."

I turned to Janet. "I liked that. I liked dancing with you." She blushed. I reached up and lightly caressed her cheek with the back of my finger. "Don't blush. I mean it. Thank you."

I lifted my Scotch and looked from Janet to Roy. "I'd like to propose a toast," I said, "to health, wealth, and happiness. And not necessarily in that order. And, of course, to new friends."

Janet picked up her wine glass. "To new friends," she said, clicking the rim of her glass against mine.

Roy suddenly leaned forward in his chair. He stared at me with a serious look on his face. 

"Look, why are you doing this?" he asked. "Why are you so intent on...on making a scene tonight?"

"I'm not making a scene," I answered, "your wife's been neglected. I'm giving her the attention she needs and deserves."

"You can play your little games all you want, but you won't drag me down to your filthy level," he said.

"My level? You mean the level of being a decent human being? The level of caring for the feelings of others? What level do you mean?"

"Your mind is in the gutter. You're making a fool of yourself in public, groping and pawing her like that. It was vulgar and disgusting. You may enjoy acting like an animal, but you can count me out. I have my standards."

"Maybe if you tried being a little vulgar and disgusting with her, you'd be upstairs in bed having the time of your life instead of being down here arguing with me." 

He ignored my comment. 

"And her," he said, nodding his head toward Janet, "she's not much better than you. Ever since we got married, it's been a struggle to keep her decent. But I succeeded."

"You've certainly succeeded in keeping her under your thumb. You've succeeded in stifling her ability to grow and develop into her own self. You've tried to make her just like you. But maybe that's not what she is. Maybe that's not what she wants."

"All you know about is satisfying your immediate desires," he said, his voice increasing in volume until it was almost a frantic whine. "You made a fool of yourself in public with her just to humiliate me. But it won't work. I'd like to see someone like you humiliate me. That would be the day! You may be able to paw at my wife like a teenager on the dance floor, but you'd never have the guts to try anything serious with her. You and her? Ha! I'd like to see that!" He shook is head in disgust and leaned back in the chair.

*****

At that moment, a thought entered my head and I suddenly I felt like the roof had opened and a bolt of lightning had struck me. It was too unbelievable to be true. Could it be possible? Was it conceivable? Was his subconscious brain playing tricks on him? Or did I simply have too vivid an imagination? 

It was his words. His words had put the thought into my head. He may have meant something entirely different but his exact words were, "I'd like to see someone like you humiliate me." And more. He'd said, "You and her? I'd like to see that." I-would-like-to-see-that! I shook my head. I was imagining things.

Then I looked at him slumped back in his chair and immediately noticed a couple of things. His hands and arms were trembling ever so slightly, and down there, I could see it. The bulge in his pants. Not a huge bulge, but big enough to mean only one, unmistakable thing. 

In my life, I've had plenty of arguments in bars, some of which had even come to blows. A couple of them were fights over women. And I knew one thing for certain - when you're angry; really angry, so angry that your hands and arms start trembling, two things happen to a man. First, his scrotum pulls tight up against his body. I'd read somewhere this was a product of evolution. On the Serengeti 500,000 years ago, it was nature's way of protecting dad's family jewels when the lion attacked. And secondly, that much fear or anger make a man's cock s shrink like a balloon that's been stuck with a pin. Men don't fight each other sporting hard-ons.

Roy wasn't trembling because he was angry or mad, he was trembling because he was turned on!

My mind had raced through all these thoughts in about half a millisecond, and it continued to work double-time. Did he see humiliation as a punishment for his feelings of guilt about ignoring his wife? Did he see me as a surrogate man to do to his wife what he didn't or couldn't do? I started to consider all the possibilities, but then I realized I didn't really care. I realized I didn't give a flying fuck about his problems, or the reasons behind them. So why waste time even thinking about it.

Now that I knew, what difference did it make? None. I took another sip of Scotch. 

*****

"Roy, have you ever been unfaithful to Janet?"

"No, of course not," he said, frowning at me.

"Has she ever been unfaithful to you?"

"Of course not."

I turned to look at Janet. "Have you?"

Janet just shook her head no.

"Have you ever been tempted, Roy?"

"No, I'm married."

"Married men can be tempted. Haven't you ever been at the bank, or paid for your groceries at the checkout, and you look at the teller, or the cashier and you think what it would be like to be with her? You look at her, young and innocent, you look at the way her breasts swell out from under her blouse and you think what you could teach her, how much fun you could have together."

"No, my mind isn't always in the sewer like yours."

"Cuckold." I said the word and waited for their reaction.

Janet looked at me as if waiting for an explanation. Roy stared at me sullenly.

"You both know what it means. A man whose wife has cheated on him.

"How would it make you feel, Roy, if you knew you were a cuckold?"

"It wouldn't happen."

"How do you know? I think maybe, once or twice in the history of our species, it's happened to husbands who thought it wouldn't. So how do you know? No man can know."

"I know my wife."

"Do you?" I asked.

"Yes."

I turned to Janet. "Does he know you?"

Janet looked at me. I think she wasn't sure what to say, how to respond.

I repeated the question, "Does he know you?"

Janet looked at Roy, then back to me. She shook her head no.

"See Roy, we think we know, but we don't."

"You're sick," he said.

"Maybe so, Roy, but maybe that's what we all want. To be a little sick, instead of being perfect like you."

I looked at Janet. I looked into her eyes. "Are you with me? Do you still want to do it?" I said it in a whisper. She nodded her head.

"Roy, look at me," I said. He was still slouched back in his chair, a foul expression on his face. 

"Roy, I'm going to make love to your wife tonight. No, I'm not going to make love to her, I'm going to fuck her. I'm going to make you a cuckold. She's going to be unfaithful to you tonight. We're going up to your room now. You have a choice, you can sit down here and imagine what we're doing, or you can come up with us. What will it be?"

Roy sunk deeper into his chair and frowned. He looked at Janet, then he looked at me. There was a long pause, then slowly, he leaned forward. Then he stood. He stood there, waiting to follow us to the room.

*****

Janet unlocked the door and we followed her inside. It was a typical hotel room. A double bed, a desk, a large floor to ceiling credenza with a pull-out TV.

I picked up the desk chair and put it beside the bed.

"Roy, sit here," I told him. 

"Janet, I'd like to dance with you again. But let's find something more comfortable for you to wear." I opened the closet and picked out a red skirt and a plain white blouse. Socks and underwear were neatly stacked on shelves in the closet. I ruffled through Janet's stuff. Several pairs of white socks, three unopened packs of pantyhose, a bathing suit - one piece, of course. No thongs, no teddies, no sexy stockings or garter belts. Roy wouldn't have allowed it. I picked out a pair of plain white panties and handed the clothes to Janet. 

"Go ahead and put these on," I told her. She was facing me, her back toward Roy.

"Janet," I said softly, "are you still with me on this? Now's your chance to get out."

There was a momentary hesitation, as if she wasn't sure. She turned to look at Roy, then back to me. Then she looked into my eyes and slowly nodded her head.

"Yes," she whispered, "I want to go through with it."

While Janet was in the bathroom, I turned on the radio on the night table, flipping from station to station until I found what I wanted - slow and easy music. Then I faced Roy.

"Roy," I asked, "Will you sit here without moving, or will I have to do something to make sure you don't move?"

He looked down at the floor without answering. I grabbed a tie from the closet. 

"O.K., then, put your hands behind the chair," I told him. 

"What? What are you...?"

"Just do it!"

I wrapped the tie around his wrists, then wrapped it two times around the vertical railing at the back of the chair and fastened it all together with a knot. I stood back and observed my work. Roy sat there, staring at the floor, his arms held behind him, still dressed in his black suit, white shirt, silk tie and wingtips. The bathroom door opened. 

"You look beautiful," I told Janet as she stepped out. And I meant it. She looked down and blushed slightly. She'd put on eye shadow, a little bit of rouge, and lipstick. The difference was striking. Her face, normally pretty but plain, was now pretty and sexy. The eye shadow made her eyes seem to sparkle, and the bright red lipstick she'd put on made her lips fuller and more inviting, as if they were begging to be kissed. 

The blouse was fitted a little tighter than the one she'd worn earlier, and without her jacket, it was now easier to imagine what was underneath. The full, round mounds of her breasts filled out the blouse nicely. Lower, her skirt hugged against her hips and helped highlight the curvy fullness of her ass.

Janet looked up and when she saw Roy tied to the chair, she let out a little gasp. I took her hand and lead her forward until we were standing in front of him.

"Janet, I want you to see what Roy thinks about all this. I want you to see what he thinks about becoming a cuckold. I want you to see the truth." 

I reached down and began to unfasten Roy's belt.

"What the hell, what are you...?" he cried out, struggling against his bonds.

"Shut up!" I told him.

I unbuttoned his pants and pulled down the zipper.

"Lift your hips," I commanded.

I grabbed the top of his pants and underwear, then with one motion, pulled them down to his knees, exposing, for all the world to see, his small but very, very hard cock, swollen and red, sticking straight up into the air. At it's tip, a drop of precum slowly formed.

Janet let out another gasp. I stood beside her and we looked at Roy. His face was red as he glared at us. I glanced at Janet. Obviously shocked by the entire situation, her expression was one of disbelief and confusion. But then, I saw her expression slowly change. At first, it was just a little upturn at the corners of her mouth. Then a little more, until it became a smile, then Janet brought her hands up, and covering her mouth, let out a little giggle. The little giggle soon became a laugh, and then her body started shaking with laughter as she stared at Roy, his hands tied behind the chair, sitting there with his suit coat still on, his tie neatly fastened at the collar of his formal white shirt and his pants around his knees exposing his little cock standing at attention. It was truly a ridiculous sight and I couldn't help chuckling myself. Roy's face became even redder.




A Visit to My Sister's Pt. 02



I took Janet's hand.

"Will you dance with me?"

Without saying anything, she turned toward me. I put my arms around her and we began to sway to the music on the radio. I caressed her back lightly with my hands and she let out a little sigh, nuzzling her head against my chest. We moved around the room as we danced, oblivious to the fact that we were being watched. Occasionally, my hands would slip down across her hips to gently caress her ass.

She looked up at me. I looked into her eyes, and then lower, to her red, pouting lips, and I knew I had to kiss her. I lowered my face to hers and lightly brushed my lips sideways against hers. She let out a little moan, and as I again touched my lips to hers, her lips parted slightly and I felt her hand leave my shoulder to gently pull my head tighter to hers. Now our lips were tight together, our open mouths locked against each other's, our tongues exploring and massaging. Occasionally, Janet would let out a tiny whimper from the back of her throat. Her mouth felt so warm and wet against mine, and I could feel my cock slowly rising. 

Suddenly, Roy let out a loud moan. My first thought was, 'Christ, the guy's having a heart attack.' Janet and I stopped dancing and turned toward him. As we watched, Roy's cock began to slowly quiver up and down. He moaned again, and his head began rolling from side to side. We watched as the quivering motions of his cock became faster and his hips began to buck up and down on the chair. 

Then suddenly, a large string of cum spurted out of his cock. Then another, and another. The cum flew up and spattered over his suit coat and tie in large, sloppy globs. One spurt made it to his face and landed on his glasses. Unable to wipe it off, Roy was forced to watch as it slowly dripped off the bottom of his glass frame onto his cheek. 

We continued to watch as Roy's cock drooped lower and slowly shrank, finally plopping down into a small puddle of cum at its base. He held his head low against his chest, staring at what he's done.

"God, that's disgusting!" Janet burst out, "You're disgusting, Roy. I'll get a towel so you can clean up the awful mess you've made." She started toward the bathroom but I held her back.

"Let him stay like that." I said, "Let's continue our dance."

I took her in my arms again, and we resumed dancing. I think Janet was rather put off by Roy's little explosion, to say the least, and it took a few minutes before she could allow herself to relax again. But she did. She cupped the back of my head in her hand, and pulled gently, bringing her open mouth and mine together. 

I let both my hands slide lower until they cupped her asscheeks. We continued to dance, our mouths still tight together, my hands firmly on her ass, pulling her harder against me. I slowly began to lift the back of her skirt until it was balled up at her waist. Now, my hands were caressing her ass through her panties.

I remembered Roy and lead Janet across our personal dance floor until we were no more than a few feet away from him. We danced with Janet's back to him. My hands moved up to the waistband of her panties and slowly slid inside.

"That feels so good, Janet," I said, loud enough for Roy to hear. "The skin of your bare ass feels so smooth and soft and warm against my hands."

I looked over Janet's shoulder at Roy. He was staring intently at us. From his position, Janet's back would be exposed to him. He would see her calves, and her thighs, and higher, he would see the movement of my hands under her panties as I caressed and molded her ass. I saw his cock, covered with cum, starting to twitch as it lay on his stomach.

With my right hand, I reached up and undid the top button of Janet's blouse. Lowering my head, I kissed the middle of the little valley just showing at the top of her breasts. Janet's breath was coming faster now, and as I kissed her again, she let out a little moan, loud enough for Roy to hear. 

My hand went to the next button, and the next until they were all undone. I reached under her blouse and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her tight, feeling the warmth of the bare skin of her back against my hands. By now, my cock was rock hard. We were still dancing, and with each step we took, Janet's hips swayed, making her pelvis push and rub against my cock. Every once in a while, I tiny little whimper would come out of her mouth.

Releasing my hands from her back, I slowly parted the front of her blouse and lifted it off her shoulder and down her arms until it fell to the floor. I embraced her again, and topless except for her bra, Janet and I continued to dance. I raised my arm and lead her unto a slow dancing rotation, until I was behind her and she was facing her husband. I put my arms around her and locked my hands together against her stomach as we continued to sway back and forth to the music, the bulge in my pants pushing against her ass. 

"Roy is watching us," I said to Janet, making sure my voice was loud enough for him to hear, "see that expression of pain on his face. Maybe that's because he's getting turned on again and he's helpless to do anything about it. Does it turn you on, Roy? Does it turn you on when you see me dancing with your wife? Does it turn you on when you see me kissing her? When you see me stroking her ass?"

Roy let out a moan and turned his head to the side.

"Look at us, Roy!" I commanded, "Look at us as we dance." He did.

I took a step back and undid the clasp of Janet's bra. Still standing behind her, I put my arms around her and held her bra-covered breasts with my hands.

"Roy, I'm going to take Janet's bra off now. So I can see her breasts, naked and exposed to me." I slid the bra straps off her shoulders and released my hands from her breasts, allowing the bra to fall to the floor. I cupped a hand underneath each breast, holding them up so I could see them from my position behind her. Large and heavy in my hands, her breasts had huge pink aureoles with hard little nipples protruding from the center. I caressed and kneaded her breasts, enjoying the warm feel of them in my hands. Janet moaned and I felt her ass push back and rub against my cock. 

I knew I had to feel my skin bare against hers. I unbuttoned my shirt and took it off, then took Janet's arms and turned her until she faced me. Now I could see her breasts in all their magnificence. They were large and full and round and I couldn't resist bending down and softy kissing the tip of each breast with an open mouth, gently pushing at each nipple with my tongue. I took Janet in my arms and pulled her tight against me. I had been feeling her breasts against my chest all evening as we danced, and now I wanted to feel them for real, naked and unencumbered against me. I pulled her tight, and we continued dancing.

"I've never felt like this," Janet whispered, "I've never felt so free. So open. Roy hardly ever touched me, and when we did...do it, it was always in the dark, under the covers. I think he was always embarrassed about it and wanted to get it over with as fast as possible." She pulled my head down again and we kissed. I could feel a slight trembling in Janet's hands and her breath was coming a little faster. 

"Tom," she whispered, "Tom, I'm ready now. I want to do it now. In front of him. I want you to...fuck me. In front of him. To make him embarrassed. To make him ashamed. I have to live with him after, but I can deal with that. I can handle it."

Janet reached down and gently cupped her hand over the bulge in my pants. She let out a little gasp. 

"It's...so big," she whispered, "I've felt it pushing against me all evening, but I had no idea...I want him to see it."

"What?"

"I want Roy to see your cock. I want him to see how big it is compared to his...puny thing."

"O.K. He'll see it. Later," I told her.

As Janet's bare breasts pushed against my chest, I knew I couldn't last much longer. My cock was aching for release. There were three buttons on the side of her skirt and I reached down and undid them, then slid the skirt off her hips to the floor. 

Holding her against me with my left arm, I cupped my right hand over the front of her crotch. Her panties were soaking wet. Through the fabric of her panties, I slowly ran my finger over the contours of her pussy, feeling the outlines of her pussy lips and the valley between them. As my finger moved higher and discovered her little clitoris, Janet let out a cry, and I could feel her entire body begin to tremble slightly. I started to remove my hand, but she quickly grabbed it held it firmly in place over her cunt.

I could feel her hand trembling as she reached down and began to unbuckle my belt. She undid the clasp on my pants, and pulling my zipper down, began to caress my throbbing cock through my underwear. My pants fell to my knees and I kicked them off. We were still pretending to dance, at least our bodies continued to sway to the music as our hands caressed and probed at each other's most private parts.

I reached down, and taking the hem of her panties, pulled them down until she could step out of them. I was able now to see with my eyes what I'd been touching. Her cunthair was brown, and it was obvious she didn't trim it. Her hair was lush and bushy, hiding the treasures below it.

Now it was Janet's turn. She pulled my underwear down to my knees, and I kicked them off. Finally, my cock was free. Erect and hard, it stood straight up, the veins on its side throbbing. Janet had been standing in front of me, blocking Roy's view, but as she stepped slightly to one side, allowing him to see my cock, he gave out a loud gasp.

Now, with both of us totally naked, I took her hand and we danced again, my hard cock pressed tight against her belly and her cunt dripping with desire. Finally, Janet put her mouth to my ear, and with her breath coming in short, heavy pants, whispered, "I think dancing time is over."

She sat on the edge of the bed, and I moved to join her when I remembered one last thing. I lifted the back of Roy's chair, and shifted it around until he faced the bed.

By now, Janet was lying on the bed. Her eyes had a glazed-over look to them. Her legs were parted slightly and her pelvis, covered by her heavy brown bush, was making small involuntary up and down motions. I knelt over her. There would be no foreplay, I knew that she was ready and my throbbing cock told me I was ready. I shifted her position slightly on the bed so her open cunt was pointing directly at Roy, then I slowly lowered myself onto her, my cockhead slowly pushing apart her cuntlips. 

Janet's cunt was dripping with her juices, so despite my size, after only three or four slow, forceful strokes, I could feel the soft cushion of her heavy, dense patch of pubic hair meeting with mine. I was inside her, as deep as I could get. Slowly, I began to withdraw my cock. Then slowly down again. Janet let out a little moan. I began to speed up my actions. I moved my cock a little faster. I plunged a little harder.

"Roy," she suddenly cried out, "Are you watching? Are you watching as he fucks me? Are you watching as he splits me apart with his big cock? Not like your little boy one, Roy."

"Oh, God," she screamed, "Yes, do it to me. Fuck me. Fuck me!"

My cock pumped harder and faster into her cunt, and sweat began dripping off my face onto her breasts.

"Yes, do it!" she continued screaming, "Roy, he's going to cum in me. He's going to cum deep inside me. He's going to spurt his cum in me. Do you like that, Roy? Do you like thinking about another man's cum in me?"

Roy suddenly let out another loud, low, animal moan. As I pumped my cock deep into Janet's cunt, I looked over at Roy and saw his hips bucking up and down, I saw his cock, hard again, begin to twitch and realized he was about to cum. He let out another moan, and I watched as a second load of cum shot out of his cock, spraying over his stomach.

And then, I felt the muscles in Janet's cunt begin to tighten and quiver around my cock and I felt her whole body begin to shake, and I knew her orgasm had started. I increased the speed of my strokes and realized it was time for me also. I felt the first spurt of cum blast out of my cock. Then another and another as I continued to pump her. I pushed my cock deep into her, and each downward stroke of my cock was met by a hard upward thrust of her pelvis.

"Yes! Fuck me!" she moaned, "Do it! I'm cumming... I'm cummmmming now!"

I let out a long uncontrollable moan as I felt the last of my cum spurting into Janet's cunt. She screamed again, and then it was over. Janet's body went limp and she seemed to melt into the bed. I collapsed on top of her, our sweaty bodies in contact from head to toe.

We stayed like that for a few minutes. I could feel my cock slowly deflating in Janet's cunt. She lifted her head and looked at her husband.

"Did you like that, Roy? Did you like seeing your wife getting fucked while you sprayed yourself with your own cum? You're filthy and disgusting."

I slowly pulled my cock out of her rolled off to the side of the bed. Now, I was the one who was confused, not knowing what would happen next. 

Janet, naked and covered with sweat, stood and faced her husband. 

"Did you like that, you filthy disgusting bastard?" she asked, "Did you like seeing his big cock fucking my cunt? Did you like it when his cum spurted into me?"

Roy looked down at the floor.

Janet turned to me.

"Put him up on the bed," she said.

I looked at her, a puzzled expression on my face.

"You heard me. I said put him up on the bed!"

I unfastened the tie from the back of the chair and began to untie his wrists. 

"No, keep them tied," Janet told me.

"Get on the bed, you piece of shit," she commanded.

With his head still bowed, Roy crawled onto the bed. His suit and shirt were covered with white blotches of drying cum. His pants were down around his knees and he still had his shoes on.

Janet stood naked beside the bed, looking down at him. 

"You like to cum, Roy, don't you? Tell me!"

He nodded.

"But you can't cum like a real man. You can't cum fucking a woman. Your cock is so tiny and worthless you can only cum thinking about a real man fucking your wife. Isn't that right, you worthless piece of shit?"

Roy looked up at her. His face turned red and he slowly nodded. Meanwhile, I stood by the side of the bed, watching what was going on, trying to understand. 

Janet glared down at him.

"If you like cum so much, I'll give you some." She crawled up on the bed and knelt above him, her knees on either side of his body. She moved herself up until her crotch was directly above his face. Watching from behind her, I could make out the open lips of her cunt hanging over his face. With her legs spread apart as she straddled him, her asshole, pink and puckered was fully exposed to me.

"Look at my cunt," she said to him, "Open your eyes and look at my hairy cunt. It's full of his cum. A real man's cum. If you like cum so much you can have as much as you want now."

Slowly, Janet lowered her wet and dripping cunt onto Roy's face, grinding it against his mouth. 

Her upper body was erect above him, her breasts swinging up and down as she pushed her cunt harder into her husband's face. From the back, I couldn't see anything of Roy's face, it was hidden under Janet's outspread thighs and ass. But I could see her. She reached both hands to her breasts and began pulling at her nipples, twisting and tugging them hard until her breasts were stretched and distended. Her hips began to slide up and down against her husband's face as if in a slow fucking motion, and she let out a scream. 

"Yes! Yes! Taste my cunt! Suck his cum out of my cunt! Take it all in your mouth and swallow it, you worthless piece of shit!"

Janet began to shake violently, her hips pounding up and down on Roy's face, grinding her cunt harder against his mouth. She screamed again, then slowly slid her body off of his and collapsed on the bed.

I stood there, looking at them. I looked at Roy, lying on his back, his little cock shriveled up, his suit covered with dried white stains. His entire face glistened, covered by a wet, slimy-white coating of body fluids. His moustache was a mound of white froth on his upper lip.

And I looked at Janet, collapsed beside him, with her legs spread wide so I could see her open cunt. It was red and swollen and I watched as a milky-colored mixture of cum and cunt juice and saliva oozed out from her open cuntlips and slowly trickled down across her perineum, gathering in a little puddle at her asshole, until it finally dripped onto the bed.

I looked at my watch. It was 2:00. With a little luck and a good taxi ride, I'd get four hours of sleep tonight. I put on my clothes and left.

*****

The next morning, as I made my way to the first conference session, a girl from the registration table stopped me.

"Mr. Clark," she asked.

I nodded, and she handed me an envelope. I opened it and read the note inside.

"Tom," it said, "Janet and I were wondering if you might join us for an after-dinner drink at the bar again tonight?" It was signed by Roy.

I stuck the invitation in my pocket and laughed.

Go figure.



A Visit to My Sister's Pt. 03



Note: Please read Part One and Part Two first. Reader's comments are always welcome. Also, please vote. Thank you!

*****

The speaker's presentation was so uninspiring I was three-quarters asleep when I felt the vibrations in my chest. I immediately jerked forward in my chair, startled, momentarily certain I was having a heart attack...

The cell phone in my jacket pocket continued to vibrate. Fully awake now, I breathed a small sigh of relief. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen. It was Nancy's home number. Sitting in the front row in a room full of people, I figured answering it was out of the question. I'd have to call her back when the session was over.

Nancy and I hadn't said more than a dozen words to each other since that morning, three days ago, when I opened my eyes and found myself staring into her huge breasts, no more that five inches from my eyes. It took me a moment to remember where I was, and how I came to be there, naked on the floor with my sister.

And then I remembered what had happened the night before. About taking the pictures, and the little red teddy, and the Scotch and the wine, and her screams of pleasure...And as I lay there beside her, I looked at her breasts, the large aureoles with their hard little nipples staring straight back at me. And I looked lower, across her belly to the brown hair of her pussy, covered with the dried white mixture of cum and cunt juice and sweat from the previous night. I saw that my cock, too, was splotched with the white, dried-out evidence of the night before.

I remembered her screams, and her moans, and how she had begged for it over and over. And as I remembered those things, I felt myself getting hard again. I looked back to her sleeping face, at the lipstick smeared messily around her lips and the eye shadow that had run in little rivulets down her cheek. 

Then Nancy opened her eyes. She seemed momentarily confused.

"Oh, my God!" she said softly, when she finally realized where she was, and why she was there. She looked momentarily into my eyes, then lower, until her eyes reached my hard cock.

"Oh, my God!" she repeated.

I don't know what came over me at that instant. But I know it was something that had never happened before, something I had never done before. I sat up and looked down at her naked body, then, as if my human brain had been replaced by some lower animal's brain, I found myself grabbing her knees and roughly pulling her legs apart. I looked down at her cunt, and grabbing my cock in my fist, I mindlessly thrust the head of it at her hole.

"No! Oh, my God, no!" she screamed out.

I grabbed her arms at the wrists and held them against the carpet. Her cunt was dry and tight, and I had to push hard against her to get my cock in only a few inches.

"No, Tom!" she cried out, "Not like this!"

I was immune to her pleas. I continued to thrust my cock in and out, each stroke going slightly deeper into her dry passage. As I continued to pump into her, I could feel her juices slowly beginning to ease the friction; juices that had come not because she willed them to come, and not out of pleasure, but simply as an involuntary bodily reflex, like pupils getting smaller when they're exposed to bright light.

Now, with her lubrication, I could thrust the entire length of my cock into her cunt, until my pelvis pounded against hers. I continued to fuck her, as her head swung from side to side, causing her huge tits to swing back and forth across her chest.

"No, please... No!"

When I felt my balls were about to explode, I pulled out of her tight opening and slid my body up until I was straddling her tits, my balls dangling between them. I grabbed my cock and pushed the head of it against her face, rubbing it hard against her cheeks and lips, leaving a coating of precum across her face. I pumped my cock furiously with my hand, letting out a loud, involuntary groan as I felt the first flood of cum burst out, spraying onto Nancy's face. I continued to jack myself as wave after wave of cum flew out in wet gobs, pouring onto her nostrils and open mouth, collecting in puddles in her eyes and dripping down the side of her face to her ears. 

When my balls were fully emptied, I used my hand to push my cock against her face, using my cock to spread my cum over every part of her face. Then, completely spent, I rolled off her and collapsed face down on the floor. A minute later, she got up and I heard the bathroom door close. Fifteen minutes later, after showering and dressing, she opened her bedroom door. 

"I've got to go," she said with no expression to her voice, "or I'll miss the plane."

Five minutes later, a guy from the airline showed up the door. They'd found my lost luggage. I showered, got dressed and headed off to the first day of the conference.

*****

I held the cell phone to my ear as it dialed her number.

"Nancy Clark"

"Nancy, this is Tom. I'm so glad you're back. I wanted to talk to you but I didn't know how to reach you in Denver, I..."

"That's alright," she interrupted.

"But I wanted to explain..."

"Don't worry about it," she said emphatically, "Look, the reason I needed to talk to you is I'm having a couple over for dinner tonight and,"

"O.K., No problem. I can eat here at the hotel."

"No, that's not what I meant," she said, "I'm having this couple over who I've never met, and I'd feel a lot more comfortable if you were here too. Would it be asking too much if I asked you to eat here with us tonight?"

She explained that the woman was visiting from out of state. She was the director of a music academy back home that had a program similar to one Nancy was involved with. Nancy felt compelled to invite her and her husband for dinner. Of course, I told her. I'll be there.

Nancy was her usual cheery self when I got to her apartment, as if the events of last Sunday night and Monday morning had never occurred. She made no mention of it as she prepared dinner, and neither did I. 

Before the guests arrived, Nancy went to her bedroom and changed, apparently deciding that her normal attire of sweatpants and sweatshirts wouldn't be suitable for a dinner party. She came out wearing a white, long sleeve blouse made of some silky-textured fabric, and a blue, knee length skirt. The bra she wore didn't seem to be very confining, allowing her breasts to sway slightly as she moved.

Dinner was perfect. The main course was a delicious bouillabaisse. I'd had no idea Nancy was such a good cook, and I made sure I told her so, several times. After dinner, Nancy had me open a bottle of wine and ushered us all into the living room. 

I poured four glasses of wine and passed them out. Derek and Randi Peterson were their names. They were both 26 years old. During dinner, they'd explained they'd just returned from their honeymoon the week before. Derek had received his law degree the day before they got married and they were in Chicago to check out a possible job opportunity for him.

They were a very personable couple, and we seemed to hit it off immediately. Derek and I soon found out we shared a passion in life - golf. The only difference was he had played varsity golf in college and had a handicap in the low single digits, and I was a club hacker who didn't want to talk about my handicap. Much to Nancy and Randi's dismay, I'm sure, we spent fifteen or twenty minutes telling golf stories and comparing the courses we'd played.

Derek was probably 6', about my height. I could tell he worked out, or at least did something to keep himself in great shape.

Randi had a petite frame, and was a good deal shorter than her husband. Her hair was coal black and cut short. Her matching black eyebrows and dark eye shadow gave her a mysterious, almost exotic look, but she always seemed to have a smile on her face. She was a lively talker, no matter what the subject. Certainly not shy or bashful, Randi had a natural, uninhibited openness to her conversation. As Derek and I talked about a course we'd both played in Phoenix, she interrupted to tell a story about the time she was playing with Derek and had to pee.

"The next bathroom wasn't for three more holes. He was driving the cart and he refused to take me there, or even back to the clubhouse, so I just dropped my drawers and let it loose, right there on the side of the fairway."

Derek blushed slightly and Nancy and I laughed.

They were both dressed casually, Derek in tan pants and a sports shirt. Randi was dressed all in white, from a tight-fitting white sweater that helped accentuate the shape of her small breasts to tight white pants that hugged her trim thighs and ass. Randi, like her husband, appeared to be in great shape.

"So where was your honeymoon?" Nancy asked. She and I were seated on easy chairs across a glass-topped coffee table from Derek and Randi, who were seated on the couch.

"In France. At a resort there," Randi answered, then added quietly, as if embarrassed about the extravagance, "It was a wedding present from Daddy."

"So how was it?" I asked.

"Great!" Derek answered, "But we were only there for a ten days, so we didn't get to see much of the country."

"Probably as honeymooners, you never left your hotel room," I said with a smile.

"I was a little sore that week," Randi shot right back, blushing slightly. Derek put his hand to his forehead and let out a mock groan.

"But the weather was great. The beaches were great," Derek added.

"Yeah, he means the topless beaches," Randi said, "Derek couldn't get enough of them. The second day we were there, we decided to go swimming. We laid out our towels and pretty soon Derek was staring with his mouth wide open at every woman who passed by. He has this thing for... you know... breasts."

"That's my only fault, he once told me, otherwise I'm perfect," Randi said with a laugh.

"What?" Nancy asked, confused as to what she meant.

"That mine weren't big enough," Randi said, "I guess he has this thing for big ones."

"Well then, you'd better keep him away from me," Nancy said with a laugh, looking down at her own chest.

"So I want to know," Nancy asked, "Did you...take yours off?"

"I wouldn't at first, but Derek kept teasing me... When in Rome, and all that. So I did, but it was no big deal. After five or ten minutes you don't even think anything's strange about...showing them, you know... showing your breasts, in public."

Randi took another sip of wine and continued, "On our third day there we found a nude beach." 

"Nude?" Nancy looked at her, "Completely nude?"

"Completely," Randi answered, "It was about a mile from our resort, in sort of secluded area. It was a beautiful beach, so we decided to go for a swim. Of course, Mr. Horny here is the first to notice," she said, poking Derek in the ribs, "He said something brilliant like, 'Uh, honey, they're not wearing anything here.' We didn't know if there was some nudist resort nearby or what, but no one stopped us from being there."

Nancy glanced from Randi to Derek. "And you... did it? I mean, you took your clothes off?"

"Not at first," Randi said, "I had my top off, but after awhile, it was a strange feeling, being the only ones there with our bottoms on, almost like we were voyeurs. Derek went first, he shucked off his suit and jumped in the water like it was nothing unusual."

"And you?" Nancy asked.

"It took me a little longer. But then I looked around and saw all the women there, young and old, short and fat, and I sort of thought 'what the hell', and I pulled the bottom of my bikini off. After a few minutes, you forgot about it; you forget about being naked. It was no big deal."

"Dumb question time," Nancy said, looking at Derek, "Do the guys on a nude beach ever, you know... do they ever get... you know... with all the nude women there?"

Derek answered, knowing exactly what she meant. "No, I think because it all seems so natural, there's no..."

"Liar!" Randi interrupted him, "I could see your thingy starting to pop up every time a woman with big... bosoms walked by," she said with a laugh, "and after those two girls sat down right beside us, the ones you kept staring at, you were afraid to get up until they left, afraid what might suddenly spring up in front of you." 

Derek blushed. 

"There's one thing I did notice there that surprised me a little," Randi said, "We're accustomed to men ogling women, it happens all the time. But during the afternoon we were at that beach, I spent my time observing how women ogled the men. I mean, just like women, men come in all different shapes and sizes. When a particularly...you know, big man walked down the beach, I could see the women's eyes following him."

Randi took another sip of wine then let out a giggle. "So Derek was ogled more than most." She looked at Nancy, and putting her hand beside her mouth as if to hide what she was saying from Derek and I, said to Nancy in a mock whisper, "He's really big."

"Christ, Randi, you don't have to tell them all our secrets," Derek said with a grin.

I noticed the bottle of wine we were sharing was almost empty.

"I'll open another one," I said.

As I stood at the kitchen counter, Derek was telling Nancy about the job offer he was considering in Chicago. Suddenly, he stopped in mid-sentence and I heard Randi gasp. I glanced toward them. They were staring with open mouths at my laptop open on the coffee table in front of them. Meanwhile, Nancy had gotten up to see what they were looking at. My mind raced through the possibilities - an old laptop, could it happen? Fearing the worst, I dropped the bottle of wine on the counter and rushed to the couch.


"I'm so sorry," Randi exclaimed, her face blushing red, "I just wanted to see what kind of laptop it was."

"Oh, my God!" Nancy cried out when she saw what was on the screen.

And there we were, the four of us, looking at the little box in the middle of the screen that said, "Program not responding, press...", the error message still there because the program must have crashed when I'd last used it, and still connected to the power cord, the laptop had sat under the table, unused and forgotten for three days, until Randi picked it up.

Of course, it wasn't the error message we were staring at. It was the picture of Nancy surrounding the error message. Nancy in her red teddy, her transparent red teddy, standing with a glazed look to her eyes, her breasts exposed to us all, so huge they seemed to pop out of the screen, and lower, the bush of her pussy hair clearly visible through the material, and standing as she was with her legs slightly parted, the bottom of the teddy hugging tight against her crotch, the outline of her pussylips clearly visible in the picture. 

My first thought was to slam the laptop shut. But I didn't. I mean, it wasn't like we were staring at a secret national security document or something. Maybe I just wanted to see what Nancy's reaction would be. There was a momentary silence that Randi interrupted.

"Hey, who's that hot babe?" she asked with a giggle.

Derek glanced up at Nancy then back at the laptop, as if to make sure it was the same woman. Of course, the obvious question on their minds would be, what was Nancy's half naked image doing on her brother's computer?

Nancy's face was beet red. 

"I just needed some publicity shots for my music...It wasn't..." she started to mumble, "I mean, the other pictures aren't..."

Randi interrupted her, "No need to be apologetic. It's a great picture."

"And a great looking model," Derek added. He looked at Nancy and smiled, as if trying to assure her everything was O.K. and she shouldn't be upset.

"Can we see the rest?" Randi asked.

"No, of course not!" Nancy replied.

"But we want to, don't we, Derek?" 

Derek smiled and nodded.

"What harm will it do, Nancy?" I said, "They've already seen the worst one. I mean, the best one."

Nancy shrugged her shoulders as if to say 'I give up'.

I quickly rebooted the laptop and put the series of photos in slide show mode and pressed the start button. 

"Press this key if you want to pause it," I told Randi, who was sitting closest to the computer.

Randi and Derek were an appreciative audience for my photos and Nancy's skill as a model. I'd taken a lot of pictures that night, and as each new photo came on the screen they would 'ooh', and 'aah' as if they were watching a fireworks display. 

In the first set of pictures, Nancy was wearing a simple peasant dress and skirt. The first few shots started with her sitting and standing in various poses and positions around the apartment - formal shots. As the series progressed, however, it was clear that Nancy (and maybe the photographer) were starting to get into it. There were a few shots of her bending forward in front of the camera, allowing the front of her blouse to open and her breasts to hang low. Then some of her sitting in a chair, her legs crossed, with her skirt pulled up exposing her thighs almost the entire way to her ass.

Nancy stood behind Randi and Derek, only occasionally glancing down at the pictures. 

And then the pictures changed, from Nancy in the skirt and blouse, to Nancy in the teddy. Derek let out a small moan when the first one appeared on the screen.

"Down, boy." Randi said, patting him on the knee.

Nancy appeared in various poses. Facing the camera, her legs slightly apart, the V made by her legs ended at a pussy barely covered by the teddy. And what wasn't covered was still visible through the almost transparent material. Several times, Derek turned toward Nancy and applauded or whistled.

When Nancy leaned down in front of the camera, her breasts hung heavy and low, and her nipples made two little mounds in the material of the red teddy. When she faced away from the camera, the crack of her ass was clearly visible, and leaning forward, you could see the puffy lips of her pussy from behind.

As the slide show continued, Randi paused it from time to time.

"What do you think, big boy?" she'd turn to her husband and ask, or "Hot stuff, huh?" He'd sometimes let out a loud theatrical groan and turn back to flash Nancy a big smile. 

I studied my sister. At first, she seemed embarrassed by the entire scene, but as the show continued, I think she realized it was all in fun, and that despite the circumstances, I got the feeling she might actually be enjoying the accolades of such an appreciative audience. 

The pictures finally ended, and both Randi and Derek rose to their feet, and facing Nancy, they applauded.

"Jeez, you guys must be really starved for entertainment," she said with a laugh, "But thanks anyway."

Nancy and I sat back down on the couch and I filled everyone's glass.

Randi and Derek each took a long sip of wine. Derek put his glass down on the coffee table and looked at Nancy. "Let's take some more. Tonight."

"God, Derek!" Randi said, "that's your groin talking, not your brain."

"No, I mean it. Those were really great pictures and I think we need to take more tonight. What do you say, Nancy."

"I don't think so," Nancy replied softly.

"Tom, what do you think?" Derek continued, "More pictures?"

"Sure, I'm game," I answered, "but it's up to Nancy."

"Please, Nancy? Just a few?" Derek begged. 

I glanced at Randi. If she was miffed by her husband's desperate pleas, she didn't show it.

Nancy looked at me. "Should I?" she asked softly.

"Yeah, go for it," I answered. I knew from our previous picture taking session that deep down, she enjoyed posing. And I certainly wasn't going to vote against a chance to see a little bit more of my sister again. And with Randi and Derek there, it would give the situation an entirely new twist.

There was a long pause. "O.K. I'll do it. But just a few," Nancy said.

My camera was in the spare bedroom. As I returned with it, I thought, what the hell, if Derek's so insistent, let him take some pictures. I handed the camera to him. He seemed a little surprised, but took it anyway.




A Visit to My Sister's Pt. 03



"O.K., Mr. Photographer," Nancy said, looking up at Derek, "You're the boss. What do you want me to do?"

Derek thought for a moment. "How about some over by the curtains," he said. 

They were standing behind Randi, so she got up and slid beside me on the couch to get a better view of what was happening. She cupped her mouth to my ear, "Derek must have a thousand nudie pictures of me," she whispered, "He really gets his rocks off taking them, and he just couldn't resist Nancy's...equipment. I told you he has this thing for big ones."

I don't know whether Derek was a better photographer than me, but he was certainly more vocal. It was a constant stream of 'Good one!' and 'Nice pose!', and 'Head a little higher, please.' Occasionally, he'd reach out and adjust Nancy's collar or tug at her sleeve to pull out a wrinkle. 

"Watch," Randi whispered again, "he'll use every opportunity he can to touch her." Her tone of voice was matter of fact, like she was talking about a stranger and not her husband.

Derek took probably twenty pictures before he led Nancy back to the chair across from Randi and I.

"Now, let's try some sitting down," he told her.

Nancy sat and took a long sip of her wine. 

"Good, now look right into the camera, he said, standing over her. He took a picture. "Now, undo the top two buttons of your blouse and lean slightly toward me," he said, as if the request were no different than asking her to raise her head or face the camera.

Nancy glanced at Randi, as if seeking her approval, or at least to make sure that Randi didn't disapprove, but Randi's face was expressionless. Nancy slowly reached up and undid the two buttons allowing the blouse to fall open slightly at the top. From where we were sitting, I could see just the slightest hint of cleavage. Derek, standing over her, would see much more.

"Great, great pose!" Derek continued, "Now lean forward a bit more."

Nancy complied, and her breasts hung lower, allowing us a view of the deep valley between them. Derek took three or four more.

"Wonderful, now sit back in the chair." He knelt down in front of her and took a few more pictures. "Great, Nancy! Cross your legs for me. Yes, good! Now a little bit more leg." Derek reached forward and slid her skirt up and inch or two. As he did, I noticed his hand made full contact with Nancy's thigh and lingered there for a moment longer than necessary. Three or four more pictures. 

"Excellent!" Derek exclaimed as he stood up, "Tom, could we download these onto the laptop while Nancy puts on another outfit?"

"Another outfit?" she asked.

"Yes, those were just warm-up shots," he answered.

Nancy sighed. "Boy, being a model is rough. Let me take a break while I think about it," she said.

Nancy looked at me. "After you chastised me the other day for always wearing sweats, I finally broke down and bought some other stuff. When I was in Denver I found this store, and I just couldn't resist." 

"What did you buy?" I asked.

"Come on, I'll show you." She tugged at my arm and led me to her bedroom. She opened the closet door and I couldn't believe my eyes. There on the shelf where only the red teddy had been before was an assortment of clothes that every man dreamed about. There were two or three more teddy's, four or five silky looking bras in different colors, a couple of pairs of thongs, some thigh-high stockings not even out of the package yet, a couple of garter belts, and what looked to be like a corset/bustier type of outfit. I was amazed and a little shocked. 

Nancy looked at me and giggled, "I bet I spent a week's pay on all this stuff." Then her face took on a more serious look. "Tom, now that we're alone, can I tell you some things?"

"Sure. What's up?"

"I've had a couple of wines, and you know what happens to me when I drink, so maybe now isn't the best time."

"No, tell me," I said as I sat down on her bed.

And she started talking. Standing there in front of me, she opened her soul and laid it bare before me.

"Tom," she began, "We haven't really talked since we were, you know, ...together last. I don't know how to say this, but when you took the pictures of me, and afterward, when we...did the things we did, I was never so excited in my life. 

I made no response and she continued, "Christ, Tom, I'm thirty-five years old and I've only had three or four boyfriends in my entire life. I've tried to be good. Years ago, when I first...had sex, I saw what it did to me. I realized how much I loved it, how I loved it more than anything else. But I saw how it made me into a different person and how it made me go wild. And that frightened me. It frightened me so much I avoided relationships. I avoided anything that would eventually lead to sex. I've tried so hard to be good and what has it got me? Nothing.

"And for years, I've worn those terrible baggy clothes because I didn't want to draw attention to myself, I wanted people to know me as something different than 'the screamer with the big tits'. But I don't care. I don't care anymore. If being the screamer with the big tits gets me some little bit of happiness, some little pleasure, then I'll scream when I want and show my tits to anyone who asks to see them."

She paused. Her breasts were heaving slightly, her breath heavy. She looked down at the floor, then up at me. 

"And Tom...that morning, when I was lying on the floor, naked and dirty, covered with the dried filth from the night before...and you took me...you took me the way you did. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I don't know how to explain it, but I...needed it. And Tom," Nancy blushed, "Tom, I need it again like that. And I can't tell you when, or where, because then it wouldn't be the same. But I want you to do it to me... like that, or worse. You could make it worse if you wanted to." She paused. "Will you, Tom?"

I nodded.

"Am I bad, Tom? Am I sick?"

"No, Nancy, you're not," I answered softly.

Neither of said anything for a moment. Then Nancy smiled. 

"I'm sorry," she said, "I apologize for dumping all that on you."

I stood, and putting my arms around her, hugged her tight against me. We stood like that, wordlessly, for a long time.

Nancy finally broke the silence. "Hey, I think there's a horny guy out there waiting to take my picture," she said with a laugh.

*****

Randi and Derek didn't notice us as we stepped out of the bedroom. They were standing beside the couch. Randi's sweater was bunched up around her neck, her bra lay on the floor at her feet and Derek was bent over, his mouth wide open, devouring Randi's left breast. 

Randi, meanwhile, had her arm outstretched, her hand grasping firmly around Derek's cock, hard and erect, which poked obscenely out the front of his pants.

Nancy and I were only a couple of feet from them when they finally noticed us. Surprised, Derek abruptly stepped back from Randi, allowing us an unobstructed view of her naked breasts. They were small, but looked firm and stood erect on her chest. Her little aureoles, probably one third the diameter of Nancy's, were puckered and red, no doubt more so than usual as a result of Derek's attention to them with his mouth. Her nipples were disproportionately large, poking out from the tip of her breasts like pencil erasers.

Derek's cock, protruding from his open zipper, was big, as Randi had said, but looking at it, I realized it was probably not as long as mine, and certainly not as thick.

Randi immediately began tugging at her sweater, trying to cover herself. Derek frantically pushed and shoved his cock back into his pants and pulled up the zipper. 

"We thought maybe you weren't coming back," he mumbled.

After managing to get her sweater back in place, Randi glanced down at the floor, and with a sheepish grin on her face, picked up her bra and stuffed it into her purse sitting on the floor beside the chair.

There was a momentary, awkward silence until Derek picked the camera up from the coffee table and faced Nancy. The bulge in his pants made his hard-on quite obvious. 

"So are we ready to go again?" he asked with a smile, seemingly oblivious to the embarrassing scene that had just taken place.

"You'll have to pick out what you want me to wear," Nancy told him, "In the closet to the right." Derek turned toward her bedroom and Nancy sat down on the chair and took a sip of wine. I sat down on the couch beside Randi. I wouldn't have even noticed she was braless now, except for the pronounced protrusions her long nipples made under her sweater. The sweater was made of a loosely woven fabric, and it appeared as if her nipples were about ready to push their way through the material. 

"He's really alright," Randi said, as she watched her husband disappear into Nancy's bedroom. "He just gets a little carried away sometimes." She pulled her legs up underneath her and reached for her wine. Holding her glass up, she looked at us and said, "A toast to horny husbands who don't give a shit about their wives." I think maybe Randi, too, was beginning to feel the effects of the wine we'd been drinking all evening. The bottle on the table was nearly empty. I went to the kitchen counter and opened another one. 

By this time, Derek had made his selections. He stood at the bedroom door. Dangling from his hand was a little, pink, silky nightie type of outfit. Draped over his arm were two thigh-high stockings, a little red pair of panties, and a tiny red bra that appeared from where I was to be too small to cover a tennis ball. 

Nancy got up from her chair. "This is a tough job," she said with a smile, "the life of a model isn't all it's cracked up to be. Bye all, I'm off to another photo shoot." She slid the clothes off Derek's arm, and disappeared into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

Meanwhile, Derek, camera in hand, began pacing back and forth in front of the closed door.

I looked at Randi. "You're not jealous?"

"I was when I first met him," she answered, "I was jealous of the way he'd try to come on to every girl he met, never even trying to hide it from me. It was like he was horny twenty-four hours a day. But I eventually got used to it. And besides, I have my own ways of evening the score."

"Like what?"

Looking me straight in the eyes, she took my left hand into both of her hands. Without as much as a glance toward her husband, she guided my hand up and under her sweater until it was cupped over her breast. I could feel her nipple pushing against my palm.

"Like maybe you'll find out later," she said, in answer to my question. She continued to hold my hand tightly against her breast. "They may not be as big as hers, so to make up for it, I have to be a bit more creative when I make love."

There was a pause. I gently rubbed my open hand against her breast, feeling her nipple bend back and forth against my palm. Randi let out a little sigh of pleasure.

"You've fucked her, haven't you?" Randi asked matter of factly.

"Who?"

"Who do you think I mean, silly? Your sister, of course."

I could feel myself blushing. Ten different lies came to mind, but instead, I simply looked at Randi and shook my head yes.

Behind us, Derek let out a loud gasp and I knew Nancy must have made her entrance. Randi released my hand from her breast, and we both turned to look. 

Nancy looked stunning, standing there in the doorway. She had put on makeup; bright red lipstick, eye shadow and rouge - a little too much rouge, which gave her face a sexy, naughty appearance. The pink nightie she wore didn't leave much to the imagination. Like the teddy she'd worn in the pictures, its fabric was almost transparent.

Underneath, I could make out a bra that didn't even make it to her aureoles, its only purpose apparently was to lift her breasts. And lift them it did - her huge breasts pushed out like mountains from underneath the nightie. I could make out a pair of sheer panties underneath, they seemed to be only an inch or two wide in the front, barely covering her pussy. The nightie reached only to the top of her thighs, leaving two or three inches of her thighs exposed between the top of her stockings and the hem of the nightie.

Derek began taking pictures immediately, directing Nancy into various poses in different parts of the living room. They both seemed oblivious to Randi and I, watching from the couch.

"I'll bet she really likes to fuck, doesn't she?" Randi whispered in my ear. Not sure how to respond, I could only nod.

"And is she good?" Randi continued, "Is she a good fuck?"

"Yeah," I answered, "but she goes a little crazy."

"What do you mean?"

"When she's drunk and aroused, she sort of loses her self-control. It's a little disconcerting at first. Maybe I should warn Derek." 

"I wouldn't warn that dumb fuck about anything," Randi said, "I wouldn't warn him if a train was about to hit him. I think he can handle your sister."

Derek and Nancy had moved in front of us. 

"Yes, baby! That's so good, baby!" Derek said as he took another picture. "Now, baby," he continued, "I want you to slip your nightie off."

Nancy hesitated for a moment, then slowly reached down and grabbed the hem of her nightie. With a little swivel of her hips, she slowly began to pull it up and over her head I was sure Derek was going to drop to the floor from a heart attack. He'd stopped breathing completely as he stared at Nancy. 

The nightie on the floor, Nancy stood and faced him, her legs slightly parted. The bra she wore cupped the lower half of her huge breasts, leaving fully exposed her areoles and nipples. Her panties, as transparent as the nightie, allowed a clear view of the brown bush of pussy hair underneath. The panties hugged her tightly at the crotch, and the contours of her cunt were clearly visible. 

Derek continued to take pictures like a madman. I had shown him how to download the pictures to the laptop, and where the extra memory cards and batteries were, so we'd watch as he'd occasionally run to replace a low battery or grab another memory card.

Now, he had Nancy leaning down against a chair, supporting herself with her arms as he took pictures from behind her. "Great! Great pose! Now spread your legs a little more."

Randi and I continued to watch, entertained as much by Derek's agitated excitement as by Nancy's near nakedness. I could feel my cock slowly beginning to rise. I wasn't sure if it was a result of Nancy's show, or the woman beside me. I guess I realized I didn't really care.

"Do you like to kiss?" Randi asked. She took another sip of wine and looked into my eyes.

I nodded.

"I like to be kissed. I like it a lot. Tom, if you'll kiss me now, I'll play with your cock. Is that a fair deal?" She said the words matter of factly, without any emotion in her voice. She moved closer to me, until our shoulders and hips touched, then turned and put her lips against mine. 

"Open your mouth, Tom. I want to feel your tongue against mine."

I pushed my mouth against hers and we kissed. As her warm tongue entered my mouth, I felt her hands reach down and undo my belt. She pulled my zipper down and thrust her hand underneath my shorts. 

"Hmm," she let out a little moan and drew her lips slightly away from mine, "I thought hubby was big. But you...How big? Tell me."

"I don't know," I whispered, "Maybe nine inches."

"And yours is thicker than hubbies. I can tell, even though you're not completely hard. Will you make it hard for me, Tom?"

She didn't have to ask. Her hand did the trick. She put her mouth back against mine. Her tongue was active and aggressive, probing deep into my mouth. As we kissed, her hand slowly stroked my cock. Occasionally, a light whimper would come from the back of her throat.

We heard Derek let out another loud moan. We interrupted our kiss and turned our heads to watch. Nancy was reaching behind her back, unfastening her bra. With a shrug of her shoulders, the bra fell to the floor, releasing her huge tits. Derek groaned again. The camera was sitting, forgotten, on the coffee table. Randi and I watched as her husband took Nancy's breasts in his hands, holding each one up, feeling their weight. Then, he leaned down and put his open mouth against one of her breasts. We could hear the wet slurping sounds as he moved his mouth from breast to breast. Nancy's head fell back, and her mouth opened slightly. She moaned quietly.

"Do you like cum?" Randi's question interrupted my thoughts. She continued to stroke my cock.

"What?" I wasn't sure I'd heard her right.

"I asked, do you like cum? Have you ever cum in a woman's mouth then kissed her afterward?"

"Uh, I guess I have," I answered. I could vaguely remember a couple of times it must have happened.

"Take your shirt off," she commanded. I unbuttoned it and slid it off my shoulders.

She quickly moved her head down to one of my nipples. She sucked it into her mouth and pulled hard. I could feel her teeth biting against it. It hurt and I groaned, which only made her suck harder. 

Then she abruptly released my nipple and moved her mouth against mine. Now, her mouth was open wide, her tongue thrusting in and out of my mouth, like she was trying to fuck my mouth with her tongue. Her breathing came in short, deep pants, wet and hot against my open mouth.

"Take off your pants," Randi demanded. She looked into my eyes. "Take your pants off now. I want to see your cock."

I lifted my hips off the couch and slid my pants and underwear down to my knees, then kicked them off. With her hand still wrapped around my cock, Randi slowly lowered her head down until I could feel her warm breath against it, then a hot wetness as she took the head of my cock into her mouth. 

The tip of her tongue pushed against the tiny opening at the end of my cock, trying to enlarge it, trying to force its way in. Her lips were clamped tight around the head of my cock, and then I could feel her teeth gently scratching against the surface of my skin, then harder, until it my cock was held firmly between her teeth. Her head moved slowly up and down, her teeth scraping against my cock. At the top of each stoke, she took the head of my cock between her teeth and bit softly into it. 

Randi's right hand moved down until it reached my balls. She held my balls in her hand, caressing each ball one at a time, then her caresses became firmer and firmer until she was squeezing hard. She tugged at my ball sack, pulling it away from my body and twisting it in her hand. The combination of her teeth roughly scraping against my cock and her hand tugging and squeezing my balls caused short spasms of pain, pain that seemed to shoot from my cock to my balls. But she knew just how much to give, how hard to bite, how hard to pull. 

I let out an uncontrollable moan - partly from pleasure, partly from pain. I knew, though, I didn't want her to stop. But she did. She abruptly pulled away, sat straight up and put her lips against mine, kissing me hard. 

"Did you like that, Tom," she whispered, "Did you like having your cock chewed on like a piece of raw meat? Did you like the way I treated you balls? Tell me."

I could only nod yes. She kissed me again.

"My mouth was on your cock," she continued, "then we kissed. Can you taste your own cock when I kiss you? Do you like that?"

Again, all I could do was nod.

Our whispers were interrupted by another load moan from Derek. Nancy had removed her panties, and now stood in front of him, totally naked except for her stockings. We watched as Derek knelt down on his knees in front of her. He put his arms around her ass, and pulling her toward him, rubbed his face from side to side against the trim hair around her pussy. 

As I watched my sister and Derek, Randi put her mouth so close to me I could feel her breath against my ear. 





A Visit to My Sister's Pt. 03



She continued to whisper, "And what if a woman wanted to take your cock in her mouth, to let you fuck her mouth... and you filled her mouth with your cum, only she didn't swallow, she saved all your cum in her mouth. And when she put her mouth to yours, to kiss you, she opened her lips and let your own cum flow back into your mouth until your mouth was full of your own cum...what would think of that?"

My only answer was a short, low moan.

Randi began to slowly stroke my cock with her hand. Now, however, she was barely touching it, simply tickling it as her fingers slid up and down. She could sense how close I was, I thought to myself, and she didn't want me to cum yet. 

Derek and Nancy were not more than six feet in front of us. We watched as Derek slowly undid his pants and slid them down. His cock sprung out, hard and erect, pointing toward Nancy. 

"Oh, my God!" Nancy moaned, "Oh, my God!" We watched as she sank down to her knees and put her face against his hard cock. She grabbed it, and holding it in her hands, began to rub his cock against her face. Derek looked down and groaned.

I looked at Randi. "Take off your sweater," I said.

She reached down and slowly pulled the sweater over her head. I looked at her breasts, her hard nipples sticking straight out at me. I leaned toward her and kissed the tip of one nipple, then used my lips to gently nibble it. Randi let out a little moan, then put her hands behind my head and pulled me tight against her. I opened my mouth wide and took in as much of her breast as I could, all the while continuing to massage her nipple with my tongue.

"Yes!" she said with a little moan, "Suck it hard. Suck my tit into your mouth. All of it."

Meanwhile, Nancy was silent. Keeping my mouth solidly against Randi's tit, I shifted our bodies until I could see my sister. The reason for her silence was obvious, her mouth was full of Derek's hard cock as he held the back of her head, stroking it in and out of her mouth.

Randi grabbed my head and moved it to her other breast and I eagerly sucked as much of it as I could into my open mouth, all the time keeping an eye on Nancy and Derek. Nancy put her hands on Derek's hips and pushed him away. His cock, glistening with her saliva, slipped out of her mouth and stood at attention in front of her face. Nancy looked up into his face. "I need it now," she said softly, "I need your cock in me. I need to feel it in my cunt." 

Nancy leaned back on her elbows, then down, until she was flat on her back, all the time staring up into Derek's face. She spread her legs and reached down, lewdly spreading open her cuntlips with her fingers. 

"Now!" she commanded, "I need your cock in me now!" She had a glazed look in her eyes. I released Randi's breast from my mouth and we turned to watch the action in front of us. 

Derek kneeled between her legs. Taking his cock in his fist, Randi and I watched as he slowly moved the head of it toward her open cunt. As it made contact with Nancy's cuntlips, her hips began to jerk up and down in fast little involuntary spasms. 

"Oh, my God! Oh, me God!" she cried out. 

Randi stood up and tugged at my hand. She nodded toward Nancy and her husband as if to say, 'Come on, let's get a closer look.' 

Randi's little tits looked red and raw from my sucking and they jiggled up and down with each step she took toward Derek and Nancy. She still had her pants on and I followed her, my cock erect and throbbing.

Randi knelt on all fours beside the couple on the floor, her head no further than a foot from where they were joined at the crotch. Despite the lewd show in front of us, I found my gaze momentarily drawn to Randi's ass. Her kneeling position caused her pants to hug closely to her body. Her ass looked tight and fit and firm beneath the material of her pants, her thighs trim, with well-toned muscles. I could make out the slightest hint of a panty line, riding so low on her ass that I guessed it must be a thong. 

Nancy's cries interrupted my thoughts.

"Oh, my God! Yes! Now! Now!"

Derek was slowly sliding his cock deeper into Nancy's cunt. From the back of her throat, she let out a series of short, staccato groans. 

Suddenly Nancy's hands slapped down hard on Derek's ass, her fingernails bit deep into his skin, causing his pelvis to plunge downward, his cock to drive itself deep into her cunt until he was fully inside her, their pubic bones slamming together. Derek let out a low, deep, long moan. Simultaneously, Nancy screamed; hers a short, high-pitched scream. Her head began to roll from side to side, causing her breasts to swing violently back and forth on her chest. Her breath came in short, spastic bursts.

Randi and I watched as Derek slowly drew his cock back, and then forward, gradually increasing the speed. With each thrust, the muscles on Derek's asscheeks flexed and then relaxed, flexed and then relaxed. Randi continued to stare at their point of contact - at her husband's cock thrusting deep into Nancy's cunt.

Nancy's legs suddenly flew up and wrapped around Derek's body, her ankles criss-crossing on his ass. Now, with each downward stroke of Derek's, Nancy met it with an upward stroke, her legs pulling his ass harder against her. I knelt down on all fours beside Randi. 

Now, Randi moved her eyes to Nancy's breasts as they flew from side to side. Randi reached out, and using both her hands, grabbed one of the swinging breasts. Drawing her hands tight around its base, she squeezed, forming the top of the breast into a round, bulbous ball, like a balloon about to burst. Randi leaned down and put her open mouth against it, sucking hard on the huge breast. I watched as Randi's own breast wiggled back and forth under her.

Nancy's breath was now coming in short, low groans. 

"Yes! Fuck me!" she cried out, "Fuck me hard! Oh, my God! Oh, my God!" Her back arched high off the carpet, her head was thrown back, her mouth open wide. 

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" she screamed, her words keeping cadence with Derek's deep in and out strokes.

Randi lifted her mouth from Nancy's breasts. "Tell me when you're going to cum, baby," she said to her husband, "let me know when you're about to cum."

Nancy's breathing was now nothing more than a series of quick, deep grunts. 

"Hard! Fuck me hard!" she yelled. Her face was covered with sweat as Derek continued to pound into her.

"Tell when it's time, baby," Randi said again to her husband, "Tell me when it's time."

Suddenly, Derek let out a loud, long moan.

"It's time, baby," he cried out to Randi, "It's time!"

What happened next seemed to unfold as if in a dream. It took only a moment or two, but almost seemed to occur in slow motion. I watched as Randi's mouth left Nancy's breast and she turned toward her husband. He began withdrawing his cock from Nancy's cunt. Just as the head of it left her opening, I watched as the first blast of his cum shot out the end of his cock, splattering across Nancy's open cuntlips. 

Randi quickly leaned down and grabbed his cock with her hand. Another spurt of cum hit Randi in the face, just above her eyebrow, dripping down in long string across her face. She lowered her face until Derek's cock was deep in her mouth. Randi roughly jerked her husband's cock up and down, her mouth firmly over its head. Derek moaned and thrust his hips forward again and again, emptying his balls in Randi's mouth. He moaned again then pulled his body back, his cock plopping out from her lips.

I remember looking at Nancy, how she slowly raised her head, her eyes glazed over, wondering what had happened, why her cunt was empty of the cock that had been in it a moment ago.

And then Randi reached out and put one hand behind my back and the other on my ass, and roughly pushed me until I was kneeling between Nancy's open legs. She took my cock in her hand and directed it toward my sister's open cunt. I could see a glob of Derek's cum had formed into a white pool at the bottom of Nancy's slit.

Randi put her hands firmly on my ass and pushed me deep into my sister. Nancy let out a loud, long grunting moan, as if relieved to know that her cunt was now full again. As I began stroking into my sister's cunt, I watched as Randi turned and moved her head directly over Nancy's. Randi pursed her lips into a circle and a small drop of white liquid appeared there, then more, then slowly a thin white stream began to dribble from her mouth toward Nancy's face. Nancy, looking up, seemed surprised at first. The first of the stream fell against Nancy's lower lip, then I watched as Nancy's mouth opened slightly, then wider, allowing the stream of cum to fall directly into her wide open mouth.

My cock was now pounding deep and hard and fast into my sister's cunt. I knew I was going to cum soon, to spurt my cum into my sister's tight cunt. Nancy let out a short scream and I felt a quivering in her cunt, as if she was trying to draw me deeper inside her.

Suddenly, Randi turned and put her hands behind my head. She pulled my head against hers until her mouth was tight against mine.

My cock continued pounding into Nancy and I heard her moaning, louder, then even louder. I kept my mouth shut tight, resisting what I knew Randi wanted. Then I heard Nancy's long, slow, wild wail. I felt her body shake in short, fast spasms, her cunt gripping tight against my cock. And then I could feel the boiling feeling in my balls, and I held my lips tight shut for one second, two seconds, three seconds, until I couldn't keep them shut any longer, and my lips parted slightly, then more, and I could feel Derek's cum gushing out of Randi's mouth into mine. And she continued to hold her mouth tight against mine, using her tongue to push her husband's cum into every part of my mouth, mixing it with my saliva and hers.

And then I felt the first spurt of cum burst out of my cock, and I felt Nancy's hips bucking up against my crotch, and then another wave of cum, and another, and another, until my balls were drained, Randi's mouth still hot against mine. And then Nancy's long, last wild scream, until her body collapsed under mine. Randi released her hold on my head and after one last thrust of my cock into Nancy's cunt, I collapsed on top of her, spent and exhausted. 

I'm not sure how long I laid there on top of my sister, maybe a minute, maybe ten, but eventually I pulled my now shrinking cock out of her and rolled to the side. Derek was sitting on the floor beside us, his cock hanging limply between his legs. Nancy slowly sat up, her legs still spread apart. A pool of cum formed at the lowest part of her cunt and began to dribble down toward her ass.

I looked at my sister and smiled. She smiled back. Randi was sitting on the couch, watching us, wine glass in hand.

"Take a break, guys," she said, "Have a seat and get another glass of wine. Relax for a while."

Then Randi stood, naked to the waist, and faced us. She reached down and undid the buttons on her pants. She slowly turned around and with her back to us, wiggled her hips slightly, then pulled her pants down to her knees. As I'd guessed, she was wearing a thong, the back of which sat deep in the crack of her ass. She wiggled her ass again and lowered the thong to her knees, then kicked the clothes off onto the floor. She reached behind her, and with a hand on each asscheek, spread them wide apart until we were looking directly at her little asshole, brown and puckered.

"Boys," she said, turning her head back toward us, "I have this little itch in my ass. First one hard gets to scratch it."

Derek and I looked at each other, considering the possibilities...