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The Black Sheep

By: Adam_Hicks



Author's note:

About a month ago my fiancée came to me with a guilt ridden look in her eye. Apparently she just couldn't marry me without first laying herself bare.

The following account is a true story as she told it to me. The names have been changed to protect identities, but the events and characters are as factual as I could get without actually being there.

For the purposes of this story, my name is Adam Hicks and my fiancée is Jessica Chapel. Her little brother (and my best friend) was Christopher Chapel.

Why am I telling you all this? Well, frankly, I don't quite know how to handle it. I had always been aware that there were family secrets, but I never expected this. Somehow it has managed to get me questioning everything I thought I believed.

So, basically I decided to just put it to paper and let it get lost on the Internet. Maybe then I wont have to deal with it anymore.

*

Chapter 1

I stepped off the train and was shocked to find my older brother Robert standing on the platform with a bandage across his nose and two big, black eyes.

I practically leapt into my brother's arms. "Oh baby, what happened to you?"

"Something happened while you were away. I think its best if mum tells you the details." He sounded uncharacteristically serious.

At twenty two years old he was two years my senior, but he acted like a child half the time. When he wasn't joking around and bugging me he was out with his friends either getting drunk, or laid and sometimes both at the same time.

He was quite the looker too. He had inherited our father's chiselled jawline, silky brown hair and strong masculine body and he kept it in shape by dodging work and spending his days down at the gym. I should have been a tad bitter about it, being that both myself and my younger sibling Christopher, were out every hour god sent trying to scrape a life together while our lazy older brother spent his days buffing up and getting laid, but in honesty I loved his toned, muscular body. It was a real turn on to be smothered in my brother's big, strong arms, and obviously our mother agreed with me.

I jumped into the front seat of the car next to my mother and leant over for a kiss as Robert piled into the back.

"Mum, what's going on? Robert said you had something to tell me."

"All in good time dear. How was university?"

"Fine. Mum, I'm getting worried here. Why is Robert's nose broken?"

My mother looked almost as somber as Robert and she sighed and put the handbrake back on.

"Christopher found out about us. He came home early from work and found your brother and I in bed, making love."

"Oh my god... I... how did he take it?"

"Do you really need to ask?" Came the sarcastic response from the back seat.

"I never thought I'd be frightened of my own child, but Chris hit the roof. I thought he was going to kill us."

I huffed angrily "Who the hell does he think he is? It's not like he's the man of the house."

"Don't be too hard on your brother honey. It must have been a shock."

"Well what did dad say about all this?"

"Your father hasn't said much of anything. Christopher doesn't know that your father knows, and I think your father is worried that he might be a disappointment to him."

"Well he's going to have to talk to him sometime. The atmosphere at home must be awful."

"Your brother no longer lives at home Jess."

"He moved out? How selfish can you get?"

"Jess, he's in shock. Please don't be angry at him, its not his fault. Look we'll talk about this later. Right now we need to get you home. You must be exhausted."

The rest of the car journey was pretty sedate. Robert and I spoke of university life and my current boyfriend while mum stayed pretty quiet, her mind obviously on more important things.

Chapter 2

This must all be rather confusing for you, so maybe I should clarify a few things.

Well, my name is Jessica, I am twenty years old, five foot eight with green eyes and shoulder length blonde-brown hair. While I am no supermodel, I do at least keep myself in shape. I wont win any awards for my firm abs, but my skin is smooth and my stomach is flat. My best features are either my shapely legs, which I'll admit I've worked rather hard on, or my 26c breasts. Although they aren't busting through my top, they fit my figure well and at least have a nice rounded shape to them. I've always been proud of my tits, especially since my older brother Robert cant get enough of them.

That must sound rather strange, even sick to an outsider, but just as your family has secrets, so does mine. I live in a four bedroom house in a suburb outside London, England with my two brothers Christopher and Robert and my parents Mike and Jill.

About two years ago, when I turned 18, my older brother and I discovered each other, sexually. We had experimented together when we were younger, and mum and dad knew of this, but at the time it was just simple curiosity and nothing more. Now things were different. We had discovered a new bond and we loved each other now more than ever.

Our parent's were most approving of the situation... possibly more than they should have been. My mother had experimented with her brother when she was our age, and they still sometimes 'enjoyed one-another' on the rare occasions that they got together. It wasn't until about five years into their marriage that my father discovered the two of them making love on the deck in the back garden. Once the initial shock had passed and tempers had died away, he admitted to my mother that deep down, some part of him actually enjoyed the show and although he had never seen himself as the perverted type, he would like to see them in action again one day. My mother was overjoyed and our uncle Ted seemed pretty happy with the situation too. Since then the three have become far closer, as friends and lovers.

In the last two years things have just been a total whirlwind of self-discovery as I found joy in our father's bed and Robert in our mother's. We don't normally go looking for sex with each other, but sometimes things become a little heated, and we've given up on holding back.

In truth, I was seriously looking forward to the summer holidays, so I could spend some quality time with the family I had grown so fond of over the past two years. It wasn't just the sex, it just so happened that the sex was an added bonus.

But now all this had happened, and my summer was ruined before it had even started.

Christopher was very much a loner, and never really fitted in with the family. Even as kids, while me and Robert were playing together Chris would go off on his own somewhere and do god only knows what else.

Since I had discovered Robert, I desperately wanted to get closer to Chris. He was the baby of the family at eighteen years old, but at the same time probably the most fiercely independent. At fourteen he was diagnosed with clinical depression, and we soon found out that he had been self-harming. At that moment I suddenly understood why he had been so aloof as a child and felt great pangs of guilt for not spotting the symptoms sooner. After that I tried to be a little more understanding about his rejection of the family, but it wasn't easy.

Despite his disorder, Christopher was a very strong individual, both physically and emotionally. He never asked for help with anything. In truth, this was also his greatest floor, as he tended to take the view that if he failed, then he didn't deserve to succeed. His self-esteem was rock bottom for a good many years, and it was only recently that he had begun getting his life back on track after a series of counselling sessions.

Like I said, I really did want to get closer to him. Maybe experience some of the closeness I had enjoyed with Robert. Of all the family, including cousins aunts and uncles, Christopher was the only one who knew nothing of the family secret and also the only one who had never felt the overwhelming ecstacy that ones own flesh and blood could offer with the merest touch.

In a way it felt like a betrayal, and this only made me want him all the more. Every time I looked at him after I had been with Robert, I felt those familiar pangs of guilt I had experienced when we found out about his mental illness and all I wanted to do was hold him close and love him.

I had been dropping little hints for quite a while. When we hugged I lingered maybe a little longer than I should have. Occasionally holding his hand and burying my face in his chest during the scary parts of a movie, even when I wasn't scared. Often I would make sure that he was home when I took a shower, and I'd walk around in the smallest avaliable towel hoping that he'd notice his older sister. One time I even masturbated with my bedroom door open when it was just him and me in the house. I got a bit carried away and became rather vocal, so in theory he should have noticed, but he never said anything if he did. Thinking that my little brother might catch me in the act was almost as hot as actually doing it with my older brother. I think I came harder that night than I ever did before.

Maybe that last one was a little slutty, but I was desperate. Anyway, mum noticed my flirting and advised me to back off.

"He's probably not ready." She advised. "Maybe he never will be. I'd love my baby to be part of this as much as you would honey, but maybe he's just not into that."

I have to admit, that hurt a little. He had spent his childhood rejecting me as a sister and now he was rejecting me as a woman. In a way it became somewhat of an obsession. I really, really did want to feel him in ways usually reserved for lovers. But then I went off to uni and my passion died down a little, which was probably for the best.

Now Christopher knew about our family secret. He didn't know the full extent of it, and he didn't know about me and Robert, in a way I was thankful for that. I couldn't bare the thought of my little brother thinking less of me... maybe his opinion means more to me than I at first thought.

Initially I was greatly angered at his reaction to Robert and mum's love making. But I think this was misdirected and was more about our betrayal than his lack of understanding.

He must have been so hurt and confused right now. I had to see him.

Chapter 3

We pulled into the driveway just as the sun was setting and immediately I jumped out of the car and ran to hug my father, who was waiting at the front door. It felt good to have that physical contact again.

As soon as I was able, I dumped my bag in my room, picked up the phone and dialled Adam's number.

Adam was Christopher's best friend, they had known each other since way before they could even remember meeting. Adam was a real sweetie and a natural charmer. Upbeat and bubbly he was absolutely nothing like my younger brother. I very much approved of my brother's choice of best friend, so much so that we even had a bit of a fling in junior school. I guess you could say Adam was my first love. It didn't work out though. It just seemed like the whole relationship was a little too close to home for it to work... which is funny now that I think about it.

"Hello?"

"Adam, hi. Its Jess."

"Oh hey Jess, hows uni?"

"Oh fine, fine. No complaints. I'm home for the summer now. Actually I was looking for Chris, is he there?"

"Uh... yes. But I'm under strict instructions to take messages from family. I'm sorry sweets, but he's being his usual stubborn self."

"Oh... did he tell you why he left?"

"Hasn't said a word. You know what he's like. He wouldn't speak his mind if his life depended on it... I don't suppose you would care to elaborate?"

"I'm sorry Adam, I don't think I can. Are you sure he wont come to the phone at all?"

Adam sighed, "I'll check."

The line was silent for what seemed like an age and I crossed my fingers.

"I'm sorry Jess, he just wont go for it."

"Oh, I see... well can you give him a message?"

"Shoot."

"Just tell him that I don't know why he left, but I hope it isn't something I have done and that I'm worried about him."

That was a complete lie, obviously, but maybe I could guilt trip him into returning my call... just then I felt like more of a betrayer than ever before. I just had to convince myself that it was for the best. And now that the secret is out, maybe he would warm to the idea as dad had with mum and uncle Ted... although perhaps that was too much to hope for.

Adam and I said our goodbyes and hung up and I took a few minutes to let the situation sink in.

Even though Christopher kept to himself, the whole house seemed a lot quieter without him there... more subdued, if you will. For a start the sexual tension that was there between him and me was lifted and although this seemed like light relief, I began to miss it fairly quickly.

I missed the excitement of knowing that he could have been just in the next room while I played with myself. That one day he might forget to lock the door and I'd walk in on him in the shower. Actually, that was one of my favoured fantasies. Sometimes I'd even think of that one while I was with Robert. Robert knew of this as I had once blurted out Christopher's name while we were enjoying each other and he tickled me till I confessed. Far from being insulted, he was actually turned on by the idea. His little sister was a slut and he loved it. Honestly? I kinda liked him thinking of me that way as well.

Just as I was reliving the fantasy of my little brother in the shower, and about to touch myself in accordance, my mother burst into the room. "Get changed, your father's treating us to a meal at that Italian place... what are you doing?"

"N... nothing..."

"Well save 'nothing' for later. We're leaving in half an hour... and Robert has missed you, so you may want to leave that tension where it is for now. Just a little friendly advice hun." And with that, she grinned slyly.

My mother is such a pervert.

Chapter 4

The candle-lit meal was accompanied by live music and plenty of wine and the whole thing was rather romantic. Although myself, Robert and our parents had this special relationship, we never really considered ourselves 'romantically involved' before and it felt a little weird. If I didn't know better, I'd say our parents were getting turned on by the thought of them seducing their own children.

Dad was especially flirtatious, with both mum and me. Mum was egging him on, relishing the prospect of watching her husband fucking her sweet little daughter when we got home.

Like I said, it was a little weird, especially as I had been away from home. It was going to take a little adjustment to get back in the mind set required for making love to your own father, but I enjoyed the challenge, and was at least a little turned on.

By half way through the evening, the wine was really flowing and I was playing footsie with Robert under the table. Mum knew what was going on, but said nothing and instead spent the night giving me knowing looks. For some reason I got the feeling she was also touching her son under the table as Robert suddenly had this flushed look on his face. After a while it had become a little competition, with both mum and myself competing to see who could get my brother the most turned on. Dad just carried on chatting, completely oblivious to the situation.

Suddenly my mobile phone began to ring. I picked it up and saw Adam's number on the screen.

"I have to take this." Immediately I got up and headed outside. Robert seemed most disappointed.

"Hi... its me." Christopher's voice seemed shy and distant.

"Little bro! How are you? I've been really worried."

"I'm fine. I just rang to let you know that its nothing you've done. I've just had a disagreement with Rob and need some time alone."

"Well, thats a relief, I guess. When are you coming home? I miss you."

"I uh... don't think I will be coming home."

My heart sank, "But why? What did Robert do that was so bad?"

"I can't tell you Jess. Its not my place to say and you probably won't thank me for it. Lets just say that its something that I don't think can be fixed. I'm sorry."

"No, that's not good enough. Don't shut me out Chris, its not fair. I haven't done anything wrong!" Yet another lie. I was getting far too good at this.

"Jess, don't. Please. You don't want to know what's been going on. Believe me, I'm doing you a favour by keeping it to myself."

"Why do you always have to stand alone? Its not fair on us. We care about you..."

"Really? I'm not so sure."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing... it doesn't mean anything..."

There was a moment of silence on both ends of the line and the air was thick with tension. The cool wind outside the restaurant had suddenly picked up and felt strangely cold, despite it being the height of Summer.

Then out of the blue Christopher suddenly crumbled as if detecting my sincere tone. "Look, do you want to meet up and talk or something?"

"I'd like that. When and where?"

"I'm working the night shift tonight. I get off about ten-ish tomorrow morning... meet me in the park about half ten."

"Ok..." I spoke with a voice that was barely a whisper.

"Please try not to worry Jess. I'm fine... really." Although his tone was reassuring, he wasn't fooling anyone and I found myself wondering what his body language was saying on the other end of the phone.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Bye."

I picked myself up and went back inside the restaurant, trying my hardest to look positive. The last thing mum needed was me being miserable at a time like this.

"Who was that hun?" Mum spoke with a smirk and I could tell she was still fondling Robert under the table. He just sat there with a stupid smile on his face.

"That was Christopher. I'm meeting him tomorrow."

"Oh that's great!" Mum stopped rubbing my brother - much to his annoyance - and suddenly got a gleam in her eye, "I suppose he still doesn't want to see me, so I'm going to give you a little list of things to ask him on my behalf..."

"Mum, I've only barely got his trust. I don't want to jinx anything."

Mum ignored my protests and continued to reel off a checklist "... Your father will give you some money to give to him. He probably won't accept it at first, but don't take no for an answer.

Also, ask him if he's eating properly... and make sure he's not working too hard... and ask him if he's still taking his medication..."

"Mum!"

"What?"

"Nothing." I sighed.

It somehow seemed odd to me that even though she was sleeping with one son, and obviously found the other sexually attractive, that our mother's maternal instincts were still strong for both. I couldn't even begin to fathom the personal conflicts she must have been experiencing. I bet Sigmund Freud would have loved to wrap his warped little mind around that one.

I had to admit though, that my love for my little brother wasn't all sisterly, nor was it all sexual. A part of me just wanted to scoop him up and mother him, just as my own mother would. He didn't need to be mothered, being that he was already so independent, but he did have a fragility about him that I couldn't quite put my finger on, and this made me want him all the more.

The rest of the meal proceeded smoothly and mum was in a far better mood than she had been just half an hour previously. I got the feeling that she was expecting me to work miracles with my little brother and suddenly convince him to come round to our way of thinking. I, on the other hand, wasn't quite so hopeful.

As much as I loved Christopher, I simply didn't know him at all. Even if I did somehow find the magic combination of words that would win him over, I doubt I'd ever know it. He was notoriously guarded with his feelings and I wasn't sure I'd even be able to get a straight answer out of him.


The Black Sheep's Naughty Niece



Uncle Murray never had any kids of his own. Lhana supposed that was for the best. He had come to visit his sister, Lhana's mother, about ten years ago, and never left. Well, he had eventually moved into an apartment down the street, but still seemed to always be mooching off her parents. Her father raised periodic fits about this, but her mom always ended the argument with, "That's my little brother!" It sounded all loving, but Lhana knew her mom's real concern was more a matter of family pride. After all, how could she be the upstanding church lady if word got out that she ignored her kin?

Uncle Murray was the baby of his family. Only twelve years older than Lhana, he had defined her opinion of sexy even before she knew what sexy meant. His playful, nonchalant attitude toward life was in stark contrast with Lhana's work-a-holic father. Murray's philosophy on work was, "That's what you do when you run out of other stuff to do." Which he rarely did, and, needless to say, he did not leave behind an abundance of worldly possessions. 

Lhana recalled the many evenings her dad came home from his nine-to-five, when Murray would be leaving about the same time, all dressed up and smelling like Brute. Lhana used to beg him, "Take me with you, pleeaase." 

Murray would just chuckle. "Ladybug," (he always called her that), "You have the cutest little pouty face," he'd tell her as he squeezed her cheeks, "but you aren't old enough."

Then Lhana would ask him, "Where are you going?"

Murray's eyes would sparkle with mysterious mirth, and he'd grin through his full, dark auburn beard. His reply was always the same slow drawl, "Crazy."

Lhana would sigh as he left her to imagine what life was like for people who weren't stuck living with her uptight, stuffy parents.

Yet, Lhana mused, as her gaze drifted around the parlor, Murray might have come up short by most people's success gage, and he was definitely never husband material, but he'd always had women around him. Beautiful women. Several of them had shown up tonight to bid their once lover a final farewell. Most of them made it a point to hug Lhana. They had watched her grow into the woman she was today. Hell, many of them had been quite influential, Lhana thought with a slight smile, glancing around as she took her seat on the second row of pews. She heard some people whisper, "Such a tragic accident. Did they ever figure out why he went off the road?"

Lhana thought back to the first time he'd touched her. It was the summer after her high school graduation. She'd been lying around the house, watching TV all afternoon, when Murray came home from whatever odd job he'd been doing that day. She never thought about the fact that all she wore was an old, half t-shirt and her cut-offs. Murray had seen her in various states of dress all her life. In the previous couple of years, they'd developed an easy, ongoing flirtation, like mischievous spirits recognizing one another. She looked forward to those moments where she knew she could torment him with a flash of tit or a glimpse of ass (and still have her parents believe she was chaste).

Naturally, Murray razzed her about what a lazy bum she'd been all day; how she should get a job and quit sponging off her parents. She'd giggled and told him he was just being envious. He agreed, saying that because he'd had to work that day, she should give him a back rub, (as he grabbed a throw pillow and stretched out on the sofa). 

Without argument, she straddled his rear and began running her hands up and down his well-tanned torso. Lhana had been giving her uncle massages for years, and actually enjoyed kneading the muscles along his spine. As he lay there underneath her, they both became quiet and lost in thought. Lhana gradually became aware that Murray's hand had slipped under her shirt, and was softly caressing the underside of her breast. She didn't say anything, just wondered how far he'd go. She tightened her thighs around his, leaning forward just enough to give him some encouragement. When his fingers brushed her nipple, it was already to a hard point.

Murray rolled over between the arc of Lhana's legs. She would never forget how his tawny eyes twinkled and his smile deepened the dimples in his cheeks when she lifted her arms to slowly pull her t-shirt over her head, then leaned over to brush her full, round tits against his chest. 

Murray groaned, pulling her to him for a kiss that left Lhana in little doubt that they had already crossed a line, to which they would never return. When he drew her tit into his warm mouth, swirling his tongue around her pebbled nipple, and she felt the softness of his auburn beard against her breast, she knew she'd never want to.

Lhana leaned back, wrapping her long, athletic legs around him. Murray sat up, effectively swapping their positions. He trailed kisses down her neck, nibbling as he went, tickling her with his beard. When his mouth returned to her nipples, Lhana twined her fingers into his thick, curly, dark red, shoulder length hair, pulling him urgently to her. He skimmed his tongue over her flat belly and found the button to her cut-off jeans. She leaned back on her elbows, boldly watching as he unzipped her shorts and tossed them carelessly to the floor, panties immediately following.

She had one knee bent in invitation when he turned back to her, but instead of rejoining her on the sofa, he extended his hand. "Why don't we go to your room?"

Lhana felt gloriously sinful when her long raven tresses swept across her butt cheeks while she walked naked through her parents' house to her bedroom. He caught her up in a sensuous embrace, "I always knew you had a naughty streak," he told her, running his hands over the length of her sun-kissed body, tugging her hair so that her face tilted up and he could devour her ripe lips. She fumbled with his belt, but Murray pushed her gently backwards till she fell softly on the bed, where she lay propped on one arm while he quickly shed his jeans.

Lhana stretched back on the bed as Murray leaned over and fanned her luxurious ebony mane across the pillow. "Just a fantasy of mine," he told her, ravaging her lips again. "I've been imagining this for a long time now." His slow, seductive voice was deep and smooth, like molasses. 

Being lavishly endowed with firm, round, buxom breasts, she watched as Murray appreciated them. Her rosy nipples tightened, almost painfully. "My, my, how you have grown," Murray said as he slid along side her. He teased her nipples, drawing circles with the rough palm of his hand till Lhana arched and moaned. When his mouth closed around one nipple, Lhana sighed with pleasure. The pressure between her legs felt wet and wicked as Murray toyed with her clit.

"I just got to taste that," he told her, suddenly dipping his finger. Lhana arched upward, gasping as she pressed against his palm. Too soon, he brought his wet finger to his lips, "Mmmm."

Murray sat up between Lhana's legs, trailing hot, lingering kisses along her throat; her breasts; her belly, till he finally reached her sweet spot. She gasped when Murray, with his arms wrapped around her hips, spread her outer lips with his fingers and sucked her clit into his warm, wet mouth. She bucked against his soft beard, moaning and gasping till Murray felt the first quiver of her eminent climax.

Rising up, he pushed the head of his long, hard dick into her warm, juicy pussy, teasing till Lhana lifted her hips and wrapped her legs around him, drawing him in with a shocked, but satisfied purr. Murray pumped, in and out of Lhana's tight, young pussy, watching her pleasure play across her face. Her breathless moans turned into ragged sighs and sharp gasps. He barely held off his own orgasm as she began to pulse convulsively around his rock hard cock. She panted and whimpered; reaching for him as Murray drove deeper, prolonging the climax till Lhana, thrashing her head from side to side, pleaded for fulfillment.

Murray stilled inside her, waiting for her breathing to even out. Then he rolled them both over so that Lhana was on top. His huge dick fit so firm in her pussy that she could only rock back and forth. Murray held tight to her hips thrusting his cock deeper and harder till she squealed in painful delight as the sensation on her clit sent her right back into orgasmic orbit. When Murray reached up, closing his palms over both nipples, she went into outer space, with Murray right behind her.

 That had been the start of an exciting relationship. The memory brought tears to her eyes as she listened to her cousin, Lance, deliver Murray's eulogy.

"Uncle Murray was in a lot of pain these past few weeks, but Brother Steve and I sat by his bedside and prayed, day after day. Finally, he did come to accept our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ."

Lhana looked up at Lance. You're sick, she thought. Ya'll badgered him into saying what you wanted to hear. Just like Mom, she stole a glance toward Ann, the only soul you're interested in saving is your own. Her eyes narrowed knowingly on Lance. It must be hard to live life pretending to NOT be gay. She wondered when it would catch up with him. It made her want to scream, the way Lance and Brother Steve were talking about her beloved Murray. Like they were speaking of a different man. Saying he had repented all of his sins and was ready to start a new life, if only God had allowed him to do so. She made eye contact with Murray's steadiest girlfriend, Robyn, who sat across the room. The slight shake of her head and purse of her lips let Lhana know that she wasn't the only one at the wake who resented this sanctifying eulogy. Lhana slipped back into her memories.

It was a year or so after the first time. Lhana's prudish mother was driving her insane with stupid "good girl" rules of dating. Lhana had never wanted to be a "good girl." She snickered to herself in the pew. She had just wanted to be good at it. So when Ann had finished her lecture, Lhana quietly slipped from the house and walked down to Murray's.

She found him bent over the only woman to ever hold his full attention. Her name was Scarlett and she was long and lean and feisty as hell. Murray slammed the hood and wiped his hands on his grease rag when he saw Lhana approaching.

"What's up Ladybug?"

"Had to get some air." She rolled her eyes.

"Well, you're just in time. Scarlett needed some minor adjustments to her carburetor and we were just about to go for a spin. Hop in."

"You gonna put the top down?"

"Of course."

The white leather bucket seats of the '67 GTO warmed her backside as she settled in for her escape.

As soon as they reached the stop sign at the end of the street, Murray tossed a bag of pot and some rolling papers in her lap. "I know you smoke, can you roll?"

"Can a monkey peal a banana?"

For the next hour, they just rode around, talked and giggled. The breeze blowing in from the gulf felt wonderful as Murray slowly cruised the beach. 

They listened to the radio for a few blocks, then Murray pulled into a gas station. 

"Thirsty?"

"Yeah."

"Stay put, I'll be right back."

He returned with a paper sack and stuck it behind her seat within easy reach. Once they were back on the road, he reached behind her, retrieving an amber bottle of beer, running the chilled glass along her bare skin at the seam where her legs crossed. Lhana jumped at the cold sensation, instantly spreading her legs. Murray grinned wickedly and laughed, settling the beer against Lhana's satin clad crotch. 

A couple of blocks later, Murray pulled into a parking space next to the beach. Warm, salty, Gulf breezes tossed her hair as they made their way down a long wooden pier. At the end, they both leaned out over the rail for a few minutes, just staring down at the dark, rolling waters of the Gulf of Mexico, listening as the endless waves slapped a rhythm against the heavy pylons. Heat lightning sparked through the clouds in the distance lending an electric charge to the evening. Far along the horizon, they could see the lights from a distant oilrig. A little closer, a cargo ship was making its way into port.

"You know what?" Murray asked softly as he came up behind Lhana, caging her within his arms.

"What?" She turned her body to face him. He was so close, and smelled so good. Her breasts brushed his chest through the thin fabric of her blouse causing her nipples to tingle.

"I've always wanted to get a blow job out here," he told her as his lips teased hers with feathery kisses.

"Well tonight might be your lucky night," she flirted.

"Hmmm, I was hoping for that," he murmured, pushing her down gently so that she sat on the bench. "Ah, the perfect height for your mouth."

Lhana unzipped his jeans, freeing his flaccid cock. Her cobalt eyes flashed up at him as her slender hands brought him to her open mouth. She ran her tongue around his smooth knob, encouraged by his instant response. She then stroked the length of his vein with a long, painted nail, pricking his balls ever so slightly as she took him whole into her warm, wet mouth. His soft, curly hair tickled her nose, and his sweet, musky scent made her hot and eager. 

Murray's hands found her round tits, tormenting her taut nipples, as she wrapped her full lips around his sex, swirling her tongue. She sucked him in. Her pretty fingers circling around his slickened shaft, pumping him while her tongue probed the slit of his head.

"Mmm, that's right," he rasped, "not too fast."

Lhana slowed her pace; purring as she languidly licked the length of his long rod. First one side then the other. By the time she drew his dick back into her hungry mouth, Murray was thrusting uncontrollably, his hands fisting in the back of her long, thick hair. She felt his hot cum on the back of her throat, but continued to suckle till his ragged breathing subsided. She happily swallowed his load as she looked up, seeing the expression of approval in his twinkling eyes.

Lhana realized she was licking her cherry flavored lips, as she was jolted back to the present by Lance's forceful diatribe. He was in the middle of saying how we are all sinners and will be judged on day. Can't argue with that, she thought. Then her eyes met Dave's through the crowded parlor. She knew that even though his girlfriend, Wendy, was sobbing gently on his shoulder, he had been watching her. As though he could read her mind, Dave winked and blew a kiss over his Wendy's head.

Lance continued to drone on and on about what a good, hard-working, God-fearing man Uncle Murray had been, or would have become, if 'God had allowed it'. Lhana wondered who had elected Lance to speak. Then her gaze landed on her mother, sitting on the front row pew. She watched her mother dab tears from her eyes with a white hankie. Poor Mom. It's a shame I knew your brother so much better than you.

Lhana looked back at Dave. He was still watching her, so she lowered her lashes and slowly ran her tongue along straight, white teeth. Dave stifled a chuckle with a cough behind his hand. Lhana knew he too was remembering a different personality than the one being acclaimed today. A favorite memory came flooding back.

After the night on the pier, Murray had begun to invite her more often. One night, as they cruised the beach. Murray noticed Lhana's slight pout, and flustered face.

"What's wrong, Ladybug?"

"Nothing," she said with an elongated sigh.

"Don't give me that," he coaxed.

"What?" she giggled when he squeezed her knee.

"You know what, silly girl; you've got something on your mind."

"Don't know what you're talking about," she replied in her most angelic voice.

"Come on, spill it."

She waited while they sat through a red light. When it changed, Lhana said, "So this is the big mystery."

"What mystery?"

"Well, you've been letting me hang out with you, at least a couple of times a week now, for a while. Basically all we do is drive up and down the beach, drink a little, smoke a little and fool around sometimes."

"What's your point?" He grinned wolfishly.

"Nothing really," disappointment lingered in her voice. "It's just," she hesitated, "I just always thought that whatever you did when you went out," she searched the air for the right words, "was a little more exciting," she finished. She hated him to think she was complaining. "Don't get me wrong," she added quickly, "This is way better than hangin' at the house."

Murray pulled into a parking place at the park. Without a word, he reached into the console and pulled out his weed. Looking directly out the windshield, he absently separated seeds, throwing a few out of the window, and rolled a perfect joint. Lhana began to think she had hurt his feelings.

Finally, she ventured her question in the awkward silence. "Did I make you mad?"

"What?" he turned, genuinely surprised. She knew when he grinned at her that he was definitely not angry. "No Ladybug," his eyes sparkled like a copper penny, "I was just wondering," he looked into her eyes as he held his toke, "just how much excitement can you handle?"

Surprised, Lhana's midnight eyes grew wide. She took the joint and inhaled deeper than she meant to, then coughed, "How should I know? Hangin' with you is the closest thing to excitement I usually get."

"All right, Ladybug," he reached over to undo the buttons of her ebony blouse, revealing her new Victoria's Secret bra (solid red lace that looked exotic against her caramel tan). "Leave it open as we drive," he told her, running a single finger playfully along the edge of the lace. "That is, if you dare."

Lhana didn't have a clue about where they were headed, but the wanton sensation of near public exposure as they drove back down the beach was highly erotic. As they turned onto a country highway on the outskirts of town, the breeze teased her nipples through the lace. By the time they pulled up to an old farmhouse, her nipples were tight and her panties were wet. She shifted to reluctantly button her blouse, but Murray stilled her hands with his. "Leave it open," he commanded softly as he turned her toward him for a slow, sizzling kiss.

Lhana thought he meant for her to sit in the car and wait for him to conduct some sort of business. Then he walked around the car, opening her door. She felt shy, but thrilled as they walked up on the wide front porch. Murray, obviously comfortable at this house in the middle of nowhere, rapped lightly on the door, opened it and walked on through. "Yo Dave," he called, "I brought ya'll a present." He made it sound like Christmas in July.

Dave walked into the living room wearing green cotton boxers and an opened beige Duck Head button up. Lhana was unsure what to think as she stood exposed to this stranger. He was about 30ish she guessed, noticing his ample supply of curly black hair that spread across his chest before making a happy trail that disappeared into his waistband. He did a double take when he noticed Lhana standing behind her uncle.

"Well Hello," he said, reaching to take her hand, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Dave," Murray stepped from between them, "This is Lhana, my niece."

"Ahh, the infamous Miss Lhana. Wow, she's just as drop dead gorgeous as you said she was." He feathered his fingers through her wind-tangled hair, ending with his hand cupped at her jaw line. "And those big, dark blue eyes. My God Murray, no wonder you've been keeping her to yourself."

"She says she wants some excitement in her life."

"Well, my dear, you just wait. Your new buddy Dave will show you a real good time. Hey Wendy!" he shouted down the hallway, "Come check out what Murray brought."

Lhana felt a little shy standing in this stranger's house while he and Murray talked about her instead of to her. Then she heard a woman's voice from what appeared to be a bedroom, "I would dear, but you forgot a buckle."