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The Bradford Family Saga Part 1

By: j.g.e. powers



Carol Bradford sat on the commode, her nightgown bunched around her waist. Through her wide open legs she watched the last drops of her morning piss cling to her silky blonde pussy-hair, then drop into the bowl. She stretched and yawned, willing her reluctant body awake.

"Mike?" she called.

"Yeah?" her husband answered, pushing the bathroom door open. "Well, aren't you a pretty sight?" he said.

"Look, who's talking. You look as bad as I feel," she said with a smile. Her husband was naked except for a towel around his mid-section, his flaccid cock making a delightful bulge in the material. She saw it twitch as he eyed her with open appreciation.

Blessed with good skin tone and bone structure, Carol Bradford still possessed almost all the physical attributes that had first attracted her husband, over twenty years ago. Her face showed no surrender to her age and her long-legged body was well put together: tits, full and firm, stomach flat, and a shapely set of tight buns. People frequently confused her with her grown daughter, Marsha.

Mike returned her smile.

"Oh, honey," she said, "I can't wake up this morning. I'm too beat up. What about you?"

"Ol' stallion Bradford? Fit as a fiddle and reanin' to trot. Want to go around again?"

"You're too much," she giggled. "Did you hide the video real good? I don't want the kids to stumble over it while they're here."

"Of course I did," he lied. The video was still in the VCR; rewound, just where they had left it. "Relax, they don't go sneaking through our drawers anymore."

"Oh, God. Do you remember when Peter found your rubbers and thought they were balloons? I almost died from embarrassment."

"Hell, how about when Marsha found your diaphragms and used them for falsies - at a grade school dance, no less, and then they fell out when she was dancing. Now, that was embarrassing!"

They both broke into laughter.

"We've come a long way since then, haven't we?"

"And how. That's why I want that video stashed where no one is going to find it. One day you amateur film-makers are going to get us hung."

"Com'on, admit it. You enjoy watching the replay just as much as we do. Admit it," he urged.

"I'll do no such thing." she said, giggling, "You're a dirty old man!"

"I sure am," he said, pulling her to him.

Carol felt the hair on his bare chest rub against her sensitive tit-flesh and her blood stirred. She was amazed that he still couldn't get enough, not even after twenty years. But then, neither could she. They had found the secret of keeping the magic alive.

"How'd you like this dirty ol' man to prong you again?"

"After last night? You can't have that much energy left."

He rubbed the palm of his hand over her nipple making it immediately come alive and hardened. Her body's trigger was her tits, and he knew it. Carol's pussy began to heat up, making her juices flow.

"You bastard! Oh, that feels so good." Playfully, she punched his arm as his knowing hands began to roam her body, stoking the smoldering ember in her loins.

"So, you're not so beat up after all."

"Like hell! You know how beat up I am. You have it recorded for posterity . . . Oooh, yes, do that!"

"I sure as hell do, and everytime I think about it, I get horny. Like now. Com'on, let's go to bed."

Carol giggled as she allowed herself to be maneuvered to the large bed. Mike pulled the tassel on her gown and it fell to her feet, almost causing her to trip. Reaching to steady her, his hand found her left tit. The shock was electric and caused her to suck in her breath. Automatically she reached for his stiffening prick.

"God," he said, with a choke in his voice, "you're a good-looking woman; same as you were twenty years ago."

Carol kneaded his cock, feeling it grow harder and hotter in her hand. "And you, pretty liar, only get better with age. More kinky, too," she giggled. "I love it!"

She fell back on the bed with his hands trailing over the hills and valleys of her body. Spreading her legs wide he blew softly into her silky, hot cunt and Carol moaned with delicious excitement. Pussyjuice oozed from her cunt and clung to the golden strands of her pubic hair. The hot pink lips beckoned. Slowly, her husband flicked his tongue over her exposed clit.

"Oooooooo, Mike . . . mmmmmmmmmmm," she mewed, her voice tight with anticipation. Automatically, her cunt-lips parted.

Mike grabbed her asscheeks and stabbed her cunt with his spear-like tongue. Her body arched, and she grabbed his head, forcing his face deep into her musky mound.

"Oh, God . . . yes!" she screamed, grinding her hips against his sucking mouth. "That's it! There! Oh, shit, yessss! Oh, Mike, suck harder . . . no . . . don't stop!

Mike pulled his tongue out of his wife's steaming pussy and looked at her face. It was flushed and her brow was knitted as if in pain. Beads of perspiration dotted her forehead. Her hips twitched and her tits rose and fell with her rapid breathing. With a smile he mashed his face tight against her wide open cunt and drove his tongue in deep.

"Ugggggggh! Oh, you mean bastard! Aaaaaah! Oh, Mike, keep sucking! Yeaaaah! Christ! Stick your finger in my cunt . . . please! Yes! Yes! Like that! Oh, soooo gooood! Fill me up!"

Carol felt Mike's tongue dart in and out of her searing cunt, felt his teeth nibble the tender outer lips, his hot mouth sucking hard on her clit.

He knew her body; her responses, how to drive her to the brink and back again. He twisted his finger around the slick walls of her cunt, feeling the spongy texture; adding to her torment and pleasure.

"Oh, you sonofabitch!" she screamed. "My ass! My ass! Stick your finger up my ass! Hurry, I'm dying . . . AAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

Her body arched and the muscles of her ass contracted as his relentlessly probing finger entered the tight ring of her asshole. Thrashing around almost violently, Carol forced her hips down on Mike's twisting finger driving it deep into her bowels; all the time holding his face flush against her demanding pussy. Thick, hot cunt-juice dribbled out of her burning hole, down her asscrack, lubricating her husband's index finger.

A vision of Carol with a huge, thick prick up her ass flashed through Mike's mind, and his erection became almost painful.

Carol twisted around, her toes curling, stiffly, around the bedsheets, bunching them together. Her breathing was labored and her words came in gulps. "Oh, Mike . . . I'm so full! Aw, shit, honey, I need your cock in me. Bad! Quick, lay down . . . I've got to have it!"

They quickly shifted positions. Carol roughly pushed Mike down on his back and placed her juicy, pleasure-raw cunt directly over his large purple cockhead. Hunkering down, she slowly eased herself onto the long, slender shaft. Her pussy stretched wide as his hot prick pushed its' way deep into her erupting body.

Oh, God, she thought, as Mike's cock hit bottom, this is heaven! How would I ever do without cock?

She controlled the sensation with her hips, measuring the stoke; doling out the pleasure, making it last a long time. "Sooooo, sooooo, good!" she moaned, as her cunt filled up with his throbbing cock. Oh, how she loved to have a man's prick inside her body. It was a pleasure beyond description.

Carol leaned forward, forcing Mike's rod deeper into her boiling cunt. Eyes glazed, mouth open, she slipped into a state of euphoria where only this great, indescribable feeling existed; a feeling she kept alive by the constant twist and churn motions of her wanton hips.

"Shit, your cunt's like fire, babe . . . burning me alive. I gotta cum!"

"Oh . . . no, no, don't come yet . . . please, not yet! More! Oh, God, more!"

Lungs burning, he pounded his cock into her; their loins beating a frantic rhythm as they sensed the apex of their passion.

"I'm gonna cum, Mike! I'm gonna cum . . . harder! Fuck me harder! Make me cum!"

"Yeah, babe! Yeah! Yesssss . . . cummmmin'. . . now!"

"Ughhhhh . . . aaaaaaaaaggggg . . . ooooooooooohhhhh."

Carol shuttered violently as her orgasm exploded outward from her cunt; a searing spasm that shook her body again and again and left her gasping for breath. Mike's hot cum juice felt like burning lava as it splashed in her pussy, and, now, she felt the receding flood wash back over her pussy walls, back over his cock, and begin leaking down her trembling thighs.

With a deep moan, she fell forward on him, her body limp. Mike's cock disengaged from her sopping box with a loud, squishy, pop.

Slowly, their rapid breathing abated.

"Now you know, I'm really beat up!" she said. "Where do you get all that juice from? After last night, you should have been drained dry."

"I'm a voyeur," he laughed, "I think of you, like last night, and my factory starts pumping again."

"Hell, I'm glad the kids are coming home this weekend for our anniversary. Maybe I can get some rest."

"Rest, my ass! But, you're right, it'll be good to see them, especially Marsha."

"Hey, what does that mean, you lecher?"

"Another good-looking set of buns running around the pool in a bikini - two, if you wear yours. The answer to every dirty old man's prayer."

"You're horrible!"

"And you're going to tell me you didn't crotch-watch when Peter and his buddies were here, last time? Don't lie, Carol, I saw you lick your chops."

"That's different," she laughed, "he's not really my son, just my adopted son."

"Oh, and just what the hell is Marsha, chopped liver?" he asked, rolling onto his shoulder.

Carol sighed, and stretched; her full tits flattening themselves against her chest as she did. "Where has the time gone, Mike? The kids are all grown and on their own, yet it seems like only yesterday we met."

"Yeah, just like yesterday; you, divorced, with a little girl. Me, raising a son by myself. The Bradfords and the Cummings. Sounds like a Grade B movie.

"Ever wonder what would have happened if you hadn't gone to court and tried to get more support from your ex?"

Carol turned and stroked her husband's cheek. "Marsha would never have spilled ice cream on Peter; we wouldn't have met and gotten married; my brother would never have met your sister, and I would have never found out that cocks come in larger sizes than that little wiener my ex-husband has."

Mike roared with laughter. "Oh, that's priceless," he said. "We wouldn't have found out some other things either."

"We've had some good times, haven't we, Mr. Bradford? And we really haven't hurt anyone with . . . you know!"

Mike nodded. "Yes, to question number one, Mrs. B, and No, to question number two. We're adults, Mary and John are adults. We can handle it."

Carol shook her head wistfully. "I can't believe it."

"Yeah, it is rather kinky, when you think about it."

"Not that, silly. The kids! Peter's a full-fledged lawyer now, but in Sacremento, and I still can't understand why Marsha had to move to San Francisco."

"That's where she was offered a damn good job."

Carol grabbed his limp cock and tweaked it. He yelped.

"Don't be flip. The family is so spread out now. We hardly see each other any more. That's why this anniversary reunion is so important to me, even if we have to put off some of our . . . eh, other activities."

"Who says?"

"I do! I miss the kids! John and Mary will just have to understand," Carol said, resting her head on his chest and fingering his sticky cock.

She giggled. "Is this thing getting hard again? Tell it to fuck off. No way, stud!"

"Down boy!"

"Mike, Marsha does have a good job, doesn't she? I mean, she's doing well, right?"

"Oh, yeah," Mike laughed. "Being built like a brick shit-house didn't hurt either. Old man Marley drooled all through her job interview. Tom Ellis told me, the old fart couldn't take his eyes off of Marsha's tits."

"Mr. Bradford, all this talk about your daughter's body makes me think you have the hots for her."

"Fantasyland, Mrs. Bradford. Just like your crotch watching. Besides, after what we've been doing, it can't be helped. Just a natural extension of thought."

"I hate to admit it," she giggled, "but you're right. I did peek at Peter's crotch. It looked . . . interesting."

"Well, with both of them home this weekend we should get all the peeking we can handle."

Carol ran her hand through her short, thick blonde hair, then tweaked her husband's droopy prick, again. "Com'on, Mr. Bradford, let's get up. I need that first cup of morning coffee."

Mike swung his legs off the bed and followed his naked wife, completely forgetting the mental note he had made about hiding last night video tape.

CHAPTER TWO

The following morning, after Mike had left for work, Carol was washing the morning dishes. She heard the car pull up in the driveway and wondered if her husband had forgotten something. Before she could dry her hands, the door barged open and her brother and sister, John and Mary Cummings, came into the kitchen. John was carrying two cases of wine.

"Where the hell do you want these things?" he said unceremoniously. "I'd give you a kiss and pat your ass," he said, eying her shorts and halter, "but this shit weighs as ton."

"Hi, Carol," Mary said, brightly. Her smile drew a grunt from her husband.

"Oh, Hi, guys. I forget you were going to pick up the wine. It has to go to the basement, John."

"Aw, shit! These things are heavy. Why can't we keep them up here?"

"Asshole!" Mary sneered. "They have to stay cool. Put them in the basement, like a good boy."

"Piss on you!"

"You wish!" his wife said with a smile.

"You're as bad as your brother," Carol said after John went grunting down the basement stairs. There was laughter in her voice. Her sister could always make her smile.

Mary Bradford Cunmmings was Carol's physical opposite; short, raven-haired, dark, flashing eyes and a voluptuous figure.

They embraced and Mary pinched Carol's ass, making her jump. "That wasn't from your brother," she said with a leer.

"Now I really know you're as bad as your brother," Carol said, rubbing her buttocks.

"That's a nice outfit you almost have on; expecting the Fuller Brush Man or somebody. I can see your nipples and your pussy-hairs are sticking out."

"Mary! For heaven's sake! You can't always be thinking of sex, can you?"

Mary Cummings laughed, and her hand caressed the roundness of Carol's tit. "Hell, I'm my brother's sister. You said so yourself; besides I have a new toy I want to show you."

Carol gasped and shivered at Mary's touch. Her tit was tingling deliciously, sending little fingers of pleasure down to her pussy. She felt her cunt juice up.

"Damn you, don't do that! You know what it does to me."

"Yeah, I do," Mary giggled and held up the small tote bag she was carrying. Carol hadn't noticed it. "Look what I have."

From the bag she took out the biggest plastic cock Carol had even seen. Heavily veined, it was fifteen inches long and three inches thick, with a thick butt plug hanging below the wicked looking shaft.

"Oh, no," Carol said backing away, her hands up "you're not putting that thing up my pussy." But her eyes were glistening with excitement and when Mary ran the monstrous cock over her sensitive nipple points her cunt sent a hot stream of pussycream down to coat her silky-haired cunt.

"We used it on our new playmates from the other night," Mary said as she backed Carol up against the sink and ran one hand over Carol's tits and down into the vee of her crotch, forcing it between her legs, into the hot valley of her pussy. The heat poured out of her sister's cunt.

"John got it for their farewell party before we put them on the plane yesterday. That little girl thought she had died and gone to heaven, but all I could think of was your beautiful blonde pussy."

Carol gasped, suddenly short of breath. Her legs trembled as the heat of Mary's words and her agile fingers attacked her brain and her pussy. She gripped the countertop to keep from falling. In her mind she could see the huge plastic prick up the girl's furry cunt, the butt plug deep in her asshole; her lovely body squirming with passion and pleasures beyond description. She saw herself in the same position and her awakened body shivered with anticipation.

Mary rubbed the smooth, cool plastic over Carol's heated body; thighs, arms, neck, face. Instinctively, Carol turned her head, opened her mouth, and engulfed the bulbous plastic cockhead. Her hot tongue swished over the crown, but it tasted flat and foreign and increased her desire for the real thing.

"Oooooh, you lousy bitch," Carol moaned as Mary's mouth encircled her stiff nipple, "I never should have told you what my tits do to me." Her voice was husky and trembled with lusty passion.

Mary giggled, her teeth nipping the rigid bud through the thin halter material. "Let's play," she whispered.

Carol gazed into Mary's dark eyes. They were sparkling. She could almost feel her passion. An erotic thrill went racing up and down her spine. "What about John?" she asked.

Mary's long fingernails were gently teasing Carol's nipples. She pushed the halter top up over the round globes and wrapped her hands around Carol's ripe tits. "If he's a good boy we may let him play, too; but later. This is just for you and me," she said, waving the dildo in the air.

Mary pulled the trembling sister to the living room sofa. Twice Carol's shaking legs almost caused her to trip. Gratefully she slumped in the soft cushions.

"That's it, baby, just relax and let me work my magic on you."

Carol sighed and did as she was told. Her legs were jelly and her tits were on fire. She could feel the hot flush on her skin, the tingle of her own nerve ends, the little electric shocks everywhere Mary's hands touched her.

Raising Carol's arms, Mary pulled the halter off over her head. Her long slender fingers traced the outline of Carol's nipples, lingering over the nipple-buds until they blushed a rosy red. Then she lowered her mouth to them and gave each one a tender kiss.

Carol closed her eyes and let the warmth of her sister-'s mouth flow through out her body. Mary's fingers slid down to her stomach and thighs. Carol parted her legs and Mary's hand slipped between her damp thighs. A fingertip worked its way beneath the elastic of her panties and tickled her super-sensitive clit.

Her body twitched and Carol moaned. "Oh, Mary, that feels so good!" she whispered softly as Mary's nimble finger began to paint her mind with pictures of blazing color.

Mary pulled Carol's shorts and panties down and tossed them aside. Then, kneeling on the floor in front of the sofa, she spread Carol's legs apart. Happily, Carol opened herself wide for inspection.

The lovely reddish-blonde cunt made Mary catch her breath. With a gasp, she lowered her lips to Carol's eager cuntlips. The distinctive female aroma assailed her nostrils and she tasted the tart pussy-juice as her tongue snaked up the juicy love-channel. Carol yelped with delight as Mary sucked her clit into her mouth.

Mary pushed a long slender finger up Carol's oozing, grasping cunt and twisted it around.

"Agh! Oh, Mary, do it to me! My cunt wants it so bad!" Carol whimpered. "Oooooh, yessss! More!"

When John walked into the living room, his wife's face was buried deep in his sister's squirming pussy. Carol's eyes were shut tight; her head thrashed from side to side, and her hands dug deeply into Mary's thick hair, pulling her face roughly against her cunt. His erection was immediate and almost painful. Clumsily, he tore at his fly. On the third try, his swollen cock sprang into view.

Both Carol and Mary heard his grunting as he fumbled with his zipper. Through slitted eyes, Carol saw her brother's raging cock. It was a beautiful prick and she licked her lips. Hungrily, she flashed him a seductive smile.


The Bradford Family Saga Part 1



Returning her smile with an eager grin, John quickly stepped out of his pants and shorts; his cock and balls swaying in front of him.

Mary smiled, leaned forward again and nuzzled Carol's silky cunt-hair, flattening it out to the sides and exposing her sensuous pink slit to their view. Then she stuck her tongue up inside it. Carol groaned happily and bucked her hips.

John was standing over them now, stroking his thick cock while he gazed dreamily down at his sister's inviting pussy.

Pushing a finger back up inside Carol's dewy cunt, Mary explored its wet depths for a moment. Then she gave the red-hot clit a few more teasing licks with her hyper tongue.

Carol's cunt was on fire. Mary shoved two more fingers up her pussy and Carol humped her invading hand.

"That's the way, babe! Finger-fuck her!" John choked. "Move your head. I want to see those slippery fingers pop in and out of her cunt."

Mary moved her head back.

"Yeah! That's the way! What a sight! What a hot pussy! Your hand's covered with her fuck-juices! Stick a finger up her ass, too! Finger-fuck both holes! I wanna see!" John's voice was hoarse; his face bright with excitement, and his cock-head bulged deep purple as his hand stroked the throbbing shaft.

Slowly, Mary pushed a long, slender finger up Carol's asshole.

Her body gasping with pleasure, Carol pulled her legs back against her tits, giving Mary more room. Her hands clutched, roughly, at the sofa material.

"Oh, you do like it so, you sexy bitch; don't you? Who would have ever thought you were so hot?"

Carol smiled weakly at her sister. Her chest was heaving. "You too," she said softly. Mary giggled.

"Quit screwin' around and fuck her!" John snapped angrily, "Fuck her hard! I'm gonna cum!"

"In my mouth, honey!" Mary said, parting her full lips for him.

Mary grabbed his quivering shaft and crammed his swollen cock-head deep into her mouth, just in time to catch his hot load of cum, deep, in her throat.

Carol grunted and her hips bucked as Mary pulled her fingers from her slippery fuck-holes. She sighed and licked her hungry lips; her throat muscles working in unison to her sister's as Mary swallowed John's heavy load.

Finally finished, John's limp cock flopped from her mouth. Mary leaned across Carol's heaving chest and stuck her fingers back up her ass and cunt. Carol's mouth gaped and Mary kissed her, hungrily, releasing a glob of John's rich cum into her mouth. Tongues dueling, they swabbed the thick cream over gums and teeth. Carol sighed, licking the tangy cream from her lips.

"Don't you worry, sweetheart," Mary said, huskily, "I'm not finished with you. Neither of us are. We're gonna make you cum like a race horse."

Carol shivered as Mary waved the menacing dildo in the air. "This is for you," she said with a wink. Then she roughly squeezed Carol's big tits and pinched her rigid nipples.

"Oh, no," Carol moaned, looking fearfully at her brother and sister. "They're too big," she gasped.

"Easy, babe," her brother said, giving her his hand for comfort. "You'll love 'em once they're inside you. You should have seen that little girl yesterday morning. She went right out of her head."

An image of the girl came to Carol - what was her name? She couldn't remember. But she remembered the taste of her pussy; the way she squirmed when Carol had stuck a finger up her cunt and her asshole; the way the girl's husband's cock tasted as he exploded in her mouth; her throat milking him dry while her fingers fucked his young wife ragged.

Carol looked at the huge dildo again and the thought of having those big things stuck up her fuck-holes was enough to make her cuntjuices flow and the walls of her pussy twitch with eager anticipation.

"Fuck me!" she moaned at last. "I want it so bad!"

John leaned over and locked his lips over Carol's and gave her a long lingering kiss.

Mary rubbed the huge, fake cock up against Carol's wet slit and she sighed with delight. A lovely tremor rippled the length of her body as her fevered brain realized what was about to happen. "Oh my God!" she moaned. "Do it to me! Do it now!"

The tip of the dildo was wet with Carol's flowing juices. Mary shoved the head between the lips of her pussy and Carol shrieked with sudden pain and pleasure. Slowly, she pushed it deeper into Carol's writhing body. Her body bucked, her arms tossed about, and her head whipped from side to side. Her sopping cunt was being stretched wider than it had ever been before. She thought she was going to die of pure ecstasy as the relentless invader slowly penetrated her wet depths. She ground her ass against it, trying to fuck it in deep. Finally, it hit bottom and her body went rigid, then deflated, like a released balloon.

Carol was panting harshly, her body coated with a film of perspiration, but she smiled when she saw how deep the fake cock was in. "Holy Christ!" she moaned.

Mary's face was flushed, her eyes bright with perverted pleasure. Her fingers had long since found her own pussy and her hot juices dribbled down her thigh, unmolested. She looked at her husband, squeezing his sister's hand. He was breathing heavily and his cock was hard as rock again.

"Now for the masterstroke," Mary said and she held up the big butt plug.

"NO!" Carol yelled loudly. "You can't shove that thing up my ass! It's too big! I'll die!"

"I can and I am," Mary said with a wicked grin. "And you will die, sweetie . . . of pleasure. Johnny, pull her legs up. I need some room."

John grabbed his sister's legs and pulled them up and open. "Shit! What a view!" he said as he looked at the evil fuckpole sticking out of her stretched cunt, and the matted pussyhair surrounding it. "Jesus, that looks sexy," he whispered, more to himself and he silently blessed the day his cock first found his sister's hungry pussy.

Mary smeared fuck juices all over the head of the big butt plug until it glistened with Carol's own body lubricant. She rubbed it around the pink, puckered opening, teasing her; until Carol's protesting body began to twitch with suppressed desire, and her hips began to hump against it.

Carol felt the tip of the butt plug pressed against her tight opening. Then, Mary began pushing forward. Carol moaned and tossed her head. The plug was huge. Her asshole would never stretch far enough, she thought. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes tightly and tried to relax her ass muscles, but she couldn't keep from crying out as Mary shoved the plug home, and a wave of pain washed over her. Her body jerked and a huge wave of pleasure engulfed her as Mary twisted the butt plug and the dildo at the same time. Then her tormented body went limp.

John pulled her legs wide; the sight was mind-boggling. Cunt juice was everywhere. His sister was flowing like a hot water tap. His cock was so hard it hurt.

"Are you okay, kid?" he asked. "How's your ass?

She tried to smile at him, but it was an effort. "It feels wonderful," she said in a small voice, "but I feel so weak."

"Relax, kid. Rest a moment. Mary will have you climbing the walls in a minute."

Carol turned her head and smiled at her sister.

"One day I'll do this to you," she said.

"I'm counting on it," Mary answered, her fingers working frantically in her own hot pussy. Then she started to savagely twist the fake cock around, ramming it deep, making Carol's steaming cunt beg for more.

"Oh, shit, that feels so good," she said humping her hips against the bulging dildo, and squeezing her ass muscles together. Brilliant flashes of light erupted in her brain as the cums - little ones, coming in rapid fire - began to flood her body with pleasure.

"Give me your cock!" she yelled at her brother. "I need your cock!"

John pushed his engorged prick against her open lips and his sister immediately began to suck on it in a frenzy.

"Oh, Sis! Suck it! Suck my cock, Carol!"

Carol wrapped her lips around the thick shaft and sucked it deep into her mouth until the head rested at the very entrance of her throat.

Mary began working the dildo back and forth in Carol's cunt. She fucked it with deep penetrating strokes, strokes that sent lightning bolts of pleasure shooting throughout every nerve in Carol's hot, horny body.

Carol was going wild. She wailed a long, lusty shriek of pure ecstasy.

"Fuck it, Carol! Fuck that phony cock! I want to see your cunt squeeze it to death. Cum on it, honey!" Mary's voice was shrill; her face distorted. She had four fingers of her left hand buried deep in her own cunt and her hips churned lewdly on the thrusting digits.

Carol was humping the dildo as hard as she could. She was teetering on the brink of a massive orgasm, tossing about wildly in the throes of sublime passion. Her brain threatened to explode.

"Fuck me harder!" she whimpered through a mouthful of swollen cock. "Make me cum!" She was begging.

"Fuck her! Fuck her hard, Mary! Oh, God, I'm gonna cum. Sweet sister! I'm gonna shoot my load!"

Somewhere in her fevered mind, Carol heard her brother's words and her strong cheek muscles sucked his delicious prick deep into the furnace of her mouth. The powerful vacuum sucked the hot cum from his balls and he came in stinging, hot spurts down her waiting throat.

Mary jammed the huge dildo to the hilt inside Carol's grasping pussy, sending her super-sensitive body over the edge. Her cunt began to spasm with ecstasy and her body trembled violently. Her mind was crushed by a tidal wave of pleasure and she thought that she would surely pass out.

Her ass jerked spasmodically as wave after wave of glorious feeling washed over her. Then she collapsed back against the sofa, limp and exhausted.

The telephone ringing was insistent. Carol didn't know for how long it had been going on before it finally, and painfully, penetrated her sexual after-glow. Neither her brother or sister made an attempt to get it.

Finally, with great effort she reached over the sofa and picked up the offending instrument.

"Hello."

"It's about time!" her husband said, his voice irritated. "Where were you?"

"Right here," she said lazily. "John and Mary came over."

"What the hell were you doing?"

"Fucking!" she said with a smile.

There was a pause. "Well, the kids are on their way. Marsha's driving and Peter's flying. They'll both be in around six tonight. And Carol . . . keep your pussy warm. I'm on my way home."

She heard Mike chuckling as he hung up.

CHAPTER THREE

It was one of those rare California days: sunny, clear, and smog free. On top of that the Coast Road was virtually deserted of traffic. To Marsha Bradford, this was frosting on the cake.

She handled the convertible with easy confidence. The wind whipped her long blonde ponytail around, and she brushed a stray wisp of hair from her full lips. The morning sun warmed her face and body, pushing last night from her mind and like a kid out of school, she revelled in its' warmth.

Impulsively, she opened the zippers that ran down the middle of her denim jacket and skirt. She wasn't wearing a bra. The racing wind hardened the nipples on her full breasts and flipped her jacket open, exposing her left tit.

A loud horn blast made her laugh.

Eat your heart out, she thought, with a smile. She was proud of her superstructure, and her slender frame served to accent them even more. They were full, firm, and big nippled; perfectly round and jutting. She worked damn hard at keeping them that way.

Going into one of the never ending curves, the sun found her tan thighs. It was warm, sensuous; like a lover's caress, and she opened her legs wider to receive it. She tugged the skirt's zipper up further and was rewarded with a hot sunbeam directly on her cunt. The heat flowed through her body and penetrated her being. Idly, her hand played with the reddish-blonde hair protruding from her minuscule panty. For a change, she was on top of the world.

Another horn blasted the air and she heard the squeal of tires. She giggled. If they could only see what I'm really doing, she thought, they would go right off the cliff.

Marsha's finger had squirmed beneath her panty and had found a home in her hot, pink pussy. The warm glow, along with the sun, gave her entire being a sense of contentment she hadn't known for a long time. She was glad to be going home. An unnamed feeling had been gnawing at her for days, ever since her mother had called about the anniversary reunion. And her secret fantasy had been more frequent and more vivid. Just last night she had to call it up from her subconscious mind, to feed the furnace of her hungry body; to put herself over the top.

The road stretched out before her, and she remembered.

Her mind was detached; separated from her body. It floated free, and its' eye wandered about the bedroom. It saw her laying on the bed, legs wide and pulled over Tom Ellis' shoulders. It saw his sweaty body and skinny dick pumping furiously in and out of her semi-dry cunt. It could hear her rote responses, moaning and moving on cue, like an actress in a role. It was a good performance, Tom Ellis thought she was hot stuff.

Marsha knew she would have to call it back; have it help her through this - as she had so frequently in the past. Sex with Tom Ellis had lost what little sparkle it once had. For the millionth time, she wondered why she let this man fuck her.

Because he looks like your brother, Peter, a little voice told her.

Her mind circled the room once more, taking in Tom's heaving flanks, her own firm, rounded asscheeks; pink, puckered asshole, involuntarily contracting; round tits flattened against her chest by his weight, blonde hair framing her oval face; then it returned to its' rightful place.

Peter! Oh, Peter, she thought, come to me! I need you! She could see her brother as he had been that day; young, but with a full-grown cock. He lay naked on his bed, legs apart, his hand slowly caressing his heavy prick, bringing it to life. She saw herself watching from the closet - a childish game that suddenly turned exciting - the strange, unfamiliar, heat beginning in her cunny, spreading upwards through her body.

Her eyes widened as Peter gripped his cock tightly. He couldn't quite fit his hand around the whole, throbbing shaft. His prick mesmerized her; long, thick, and meaty, with a heavy ballsac drooping between his legs. She found it hard to breathe.

Marsha watched him stroke the shaft, gaining speed. Each stroke seem to send an electric shock through her cunny, making it throb. She pressed her hand against her mound and hot, sticky juice began to seep out and wet her panties. A warm wave of pleasure flowed through her body. Without conscious thought, her hands began small explorations; stomach, hips, tits, thigh. Tits and thighs!

She heard Peter groan; watched his fist begin to fly up and down the engorged shaft; saw the veins bulge, the angry purple head. Fingers slipped beneath elastic panty-bands, through the silky fuzz, searching; finding her drooling slit, and a magic spot that intensified this new thrill. A blinding flash erupted before her eyes and her legs went weak. She sucked in her breath, but made no sound.

Peter's cock seemed to fill her vision and her fingers moved with rough finesse. Pleasure came in waves.

She could see it!

She could feel it!

It filled her up!

"Oh, God! Yessss!" she screamed, as her dream within a dream drove her to reality. "That's it! Yes! Fuck me! Oh, fuck me! Make me cum! I need to cum!"

"Shit, babe, oh, shit, Marsha . . . babe, you're so hot. I love fucking you! Cum for me! Cum for Tom!"

Her mind heard nothing. It was reaching for her brother's huge, erupting cock. An enormous wave carried her up and over.

"Aaaaaaagggg! . . . I'm cummmmmin' . . . I'm cummmmin'!"

Her legs wrapped tight around Tom's back; fingers digging into his flesh. He yelled his pain and pleasure as his cock exploded hotly in Marsha's, now, juicy cunt.

She felt the hot, sticky cream spurt, lava-like, inside her body; fill up her cunt cavern, then seep out into the crack of her ass. Her body thrashed and her hips beat frantically against his, as her cunt-walls tried to drain every pleasure-giving droplet from his shrinking cock. Her mind and body strained, but it was no use. The image was slowly fading away.

A car horn blared at her as her car drifted towards the white line. Her brow was furrowed and beads of sweat dotted her forehead. She blinked her eyes and a shiver ran up her spine. The fantasy was becoming stronger and stronger; the urge more insistent. Oh, God, how she wished Peter wasn't her brother.

He's only your adopted brother, not your real brother, the little voice said. Who would know?

Marsha pushed the tormenting thought from her mind, but like a seed planted, it had already taken root in her subconscious mind. She pressed the accelerator down and the car surged forward. Marsha Bradford was in hurry.

* * *

When the young flight attendant bent over to assist an elderly passenger, her skirt tightened across her buttocks. It was a very nice ass, Peter Bradford thought, as he watched from two rows back. It had a familiar look about it; an ass that he new and liked. Watching, he had an almost uncontrollable urge to reach out and pat it; so much so that he deliberately crossed his arms to avoid a reflex action.

The more he watched the well-shaped derriere sway from side to side, the more he wondered whose ass it reminded him of. Impulsively, he rang the call button.

The flight attendant stood up and straightened her skirt out, effectively hiding the heart shaped mounds. But Peter had her contours memorized. He searched his mind, taking in the girl's long legs as he did; young, mid-twenties, blonde, nice smile, a well shaped bust hiding beneath the tailored blouse.

Damn, he thought, Marsha! Always at the edge of his thoughts; even here and now, after all this time.

"Yes, Mr. Bradford, can I get you something?"

"Eh, yes, another Scotch, please," he stammered, amazed at how quickly they picked up on names.

"Right away, Mr. Bradford," she said, giving Peter her best airline smile.

He watched her walk away. Was the sway of her hips more pronounced, or was it his imagination. Sometimes Marsha walked that way, he thought.

Heat filled his loins, like it always did when he thought about his sister - 'that way'. She was part of a teenage fantasy world; a world that he kept safely hidden, only to be examined in the dark of the night. As the flight attendant brought his drink, a fleeting image of Marsha's naked body came to him. Embarrassed and angry, he crossed his legs to hide his growing erection. This is silly, he thought. That was long ago. He hadn't even seen Marsha in over a year. He should be thinking about Lucy Parsons, not his sister; somebody real, not a fantasy.

He gulped his drink and forced himself to concentrate on Lucy, but even as he slipped into reverie, he knew that his sister was a fantasy that would always be with him.

***

"Good Afternoon, Miss Parson," Peter said formally.

"Mr. Bradford."

Lucy Parsons turned to her secretary, "Thank you, Pam, that'll be all. And hold my calls, please; Mr. Bradford and I have to review his pending cases."

They both smiled at the secretary as she left the office; Peter appreciating her long legs and well-shaped ass. One of these days, he thought. Lucy smiled at him, indulgently. "Well, Mr. Bradford, do you have your portfolio ready?"

Peter turned his attention to his boss, and gave her his best smile. She could feel its warmth all the way down to her crotch.

"Actually, Miss Parsons, I didn't come prepared to review my cases, I came to ask a favor."

The older woman smiled at the young, handsome lawyer. At forty-five, Lucy Parsons was still an attractive woman; although dressed somewhat severe, as proscribed by her position as a full partner in one of the best law firms on the West Coast. The clothing hid a womanly figure, still firm, still desirable, still in need.




The Bradford Family Saga Part 1



"And the favor, Mr. Bradford?"

"My parents are celebrating their anniversary this weekend, and they're planning a family party. I'd like to take tomorrow off and fly down - if it's alright with you, of course."

Lucy Parsons came around the desk and stood close to him. He caught a flash of tanned thigh as her skirt flap parted. "This must be a first. A new lawyer showing consideration for the firm."

"Isn't that the way it's done?"

"Not usually. Young lawyers are a fairly arrogant lot, and favors always come with a pay-back."

"I'm just asking for the day off."

She smiled at him, the way a cat smiles at a mouse just before it leaps. "Everything has its' price, Mr. Bradford."

Lucy leaned back against the desk, arms back, legs apart, skirt taut; the slit wide, nylon-clad thighs showing.

"What's the price of a day off, Miss Parsons?"

She came at him like a shot. Her arms gripped him tightly, her lips covered his - hard; her tongue searching for its mate, entwining like a mad snake. Her body molded to his, seeking; in need.

Peter's hands found her tits, and her tight ass. He pulled her to his groin, and ground his dick into the vee of her crotch.

"Damn you," she hissed, "Damn you! I missed you last night." Her voice was thick with emotion, her movements frantic. She grabbed his erect prick through his pants and squeezed it hard.

"Ow! Why the hell are you mad at me? You're the one who had to go to that shitty recital," he said, kissing her eyes, her nose, her lips. His tongue traced a wet course down her neck into the cleavage of her silk blouse.

"Corporate duty," she said in a voice hoarse with passion.

"Fuck corporate duty. I want you! Is that door locked?"

"I don't care, just fuck me! Here! Now! On the desk!"

Her mind reeled with lust, causing her to lose all sense of precaution, of convention. The possibility of discovery actually added to her excitement.

Peter pushed her back against the desk until she was forced to put her arms back for balance. He grabbed her legs and pulled them up off the floor. The edge of the desk bit sharply into her ass. Lucy Parsons wore no panties. A lacy black garter-belt framed the thick, black thatch hiding her throbbing pussy. The cunt-hair sparkled with droplets of cuntjuice. With a practiced hand, he unzipped his pants, releasing his engorged cock, and with a sure stroke, parted her pink cuntlips and roughly sank his rod into her hot, butterslick pussy.

The sudden shock of penetration sucked the breath from her lungs. Her mouth opened, as if to yell, but no sound came out. Her eyes glazed and her body convulsed as the first spasm of orgasm - a little one - rushed through her body. Her arms went around his neck; her legs around his ass, in a desperate attempt to force his wonderful cock in as deep as possible. Pain mixed with pleasure as the edge of the desk gouged her bare asscheeks.

"Ughhhhhh . . . oh, Christ, yes! Yessss! Fuck me, Peter," she hissed in his ear. "Stick your big cock deep! Make me young again!"

With a purpose, Peter plunged his thick, cum-slick cock in and out of her. Lucy's body shook with the force of each stroke. He forced her legs up against his shoulders, and she moaned, half in pain, as her body strained against the awkward position, but it gave deeper entry into her cunt, and she sighed in wonder as the extra fuck-meat filled her up.

"Give me your cock," she wailed. "I'm dying for it! Oh, yeah! Yeahhhh!"

"Com'on, boss lady, fuck me back. Com'on, bitch, fuck!"

"Peter, oh, Peter . . . yessss! Oh, I'm gonna cum again. I can't hold back!"

"Cum for me, baby, cum for me!"

"Aaaaaaggggg! Cummin' . . . yesssssss!" Lucy felt the violent contractions deep inside her cunt, and she bit her lip to hold back the automatic scream of pleasure that rose to her throat. She felt Peter dig his fingers into her ass, unable to hold back the eruption in his balls. His cock pounded her raw cunt-hole and his hot jism spurted deep into her sopping pussy, mixing with her own juices; overflowing her cunt. It traced as hot path down her asscheek.

Peter's legs trembled, and his body heaved with sexual aftershock as he tried to control his ragged breathing. Slowly, he pulled his still rigid cock from Lucy's steaming cunt. Her legs fell heavily to the floor.

"Oh, God, that was so good," she said, and slid to her knees in front of his slick, twitching cockhead. She began licking him clean, heedless of her own dripping pussy. Cum- juice spotted the expensive rug as her tongue swirled around his slowly deflating prick, searching for stray droplets of mixed cum. One hand cupped his large balls while the other milked the last vestige of their passion from his purple dickhead.

Her cunt tingled with wild pleasure, her body glowed, and her mouth caressed the nine inch fuck pole that had become her magic carpet to youth and passion. Lucy Parsons was ecstatically alive.

"I guess this means that I have the day off," he said, laughing.

CHAPTER FOUR

By five-thirty, Carol Bradford was ready. The catered buffet was set up, the wine chilled, the neighbors invited. Peter's flight schedule had been checked and Marsha's route and time had been efficiently plotted. The only thing that remained was the waiting. Suddenly, she felt tired.

It hadn't been an easy accomplishment. Mike's arrival

had triggered another round of lust, with Mary the happy recipient of the big dildo. Carol flushed as she remembered Mary's squirming, panting body as she plunged the phony prick well up her dripping pussy; Mike and John shoving their cocks into every available hole they could find; her own demanding body seeking thrill after thrill. It had taken a supreme act of will on her part to get them out of the house. She could have gone on like that forever. Sometimes her late discovered lust scared her. It was so intense!

She sat at her dressing table and checked her make-up, one last time before going down stairs. The face that looked back at her didn't look like the one that had spent the morning sucking cock and eating pussy. That one, the one she saw in the video re-run, seemed so wild and abandoned, so wanton, so intent on her physical pleasures, that it appeared to belong to someone else; a person whose wild desires had made her succumb to the ultimate sin! A sudden chill gripped her. I've become two different people, she thought. Wife, mother, and . . . incestuous whore! I'm fucking my own brother! Mike's fucking his own sister! The words clutched at her heart. What if their logic was wrong and incest did apply to consenting adults? And, if the world's right, and what we're doing is wrong, then, she wondered, what will be our punishment?

A horn honked and she heard her husband yell, "Carol! Marsha's here!"

Her mind snapped shut, and the fear was, once again, buried in the deep, dark recesses of her subconscious. She looked at her reflection and her face became defiant. She had made her decision. She would live with it. The world be dammed!

Marsha ran to her mother and they jumped up and down and squealed like a couple of schoolgirls; like sisters, which they did look like; blonde against blonde, only the length of their hair seem to tell them apart. Mother and daughter even giggled alike when the gathering neighbors started to applaud. Carol watched Marsha make the rounds of family and friends, suddenly aware that the men, Mike and John included, were openly eying Marsha's shapely contours; the brief, denim outfit seemed to draw their eyes to every secret nook and cranny of her young, lush body. She flashed Mary an angry look when her Sister whispered, "Nice tits!"

As the Bradfords and the Cummings surrounded a smiling, happy Marsha Bradford, Peter's taxi pulled up and the boisterous group surged to greet the new arrival; all except Marsha, who hung back at the rear, finally greeting her brother with a nervous hug and the lightest touch of her lips. No one seem to notice except Carol. A feeling of foreboding came over her. Already, the reunion was losing its luster.

"Let me at him," Mary Cummings yelled, grabbing Peter in a bear hug. Startled, Peter found his aunt's tongue in his mouth and her hips grinding against his pelvis. Her kiss was deep, and wet, and loud. To others, it appeared corny and dramatic, but Peter's surprise and his hard-on were real. Carol blushed and looked at her husband, Mike, who only smiled tolerantly. Obviously, he thought, his sister had been at the punch already.

"God, you're a good-looking guy," Mary said with conviction, ignoring her more than slightly embarrassed nephew - and her annoyed sister.

Before anyone could react, Carol took Mary's arm and started to push everyone towards the house, telling the neighbors to come over in a few minutes, after the kids freshen up. The awkwardness passed before anyone was truly aware of it.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" Carol hissed at Mary as they went up the driveway.

"What? Can't I tell my nephew he's handsome? It's true!"

"Damnit! You know exactly what I'm talking about!"

Mary shook her head. "There's no harm in looking, Carol! In case you haven't noticed, Peter is one hellava guy! Built, too, if you ask me. Don't be a hypocrite! Our recent playmates were younger than the kids; something that didn't seem to bother you, then; in fact, that's the way you like them, isn't it?

"Look at Mike and John . . ." she turned towards the retreating group, "for Christ-sake, they're watching Marsha's ass in that tight skirt! Get real!"

Mary pulled her arm away and started up to the house, leaving Carol momentarily dazed. Looking at her husband and brother she saw that Mary had spoken the truth, they were looking at Marsha's swaying ass. And Peter was a handsome young man; just the type that made her blood rush to her head and her pussy begin to cream; just the type she and Mary loved to fuck. Embarrassed, she realized her annoyance with her sister had really been envy. Sadly, she followed the group up to the house. What have I done to myself? What have we all done to each other? She didn't wait for the little voice to answer.

Marsha was unpacking when Carol entered her bedroom.

"Hi, Mom," Marsha said, brightly. "It's so good to be home again. I hadn't realized how much I missed everyone."

Carol sat down on the bed. "Does that include Peter?" she asked directly. Marsha blushed and her brow furrowed.

Her daughter seemed different somehow, more . . . Carol searched for the right word . . . worldly; sexy! Yes, sexy! She had that vibrant, physical allure that went with sexy people. Carol wondered what had happened in the past year to cause the change, or is it really a change? Maybe I was just to close to noticed, she thought as she eyed Marsha's discomfit.

Abruptly, Marsha sat beside her. "I didn't think anyone would notice," she said, toying with a folded blouse. "I guess I forgot about old eagle-eyed Bradford."

"There was a time when you told old eagle-eyed Bradford everything. You still can, you know."

Marsha shook her head. "I know I can, but this . . . is something different and I don't think it's one of those things you want your mother and father to know about.

"Anyway, I'm probably only admitting it to myself right at this moment. I can barely grasp it myself. Don't ask me anything more, okay, Mom?"

Carol put her arm around her daughter. Clearly, Marsha was distressed and wanted to talk, despite her words to the contrary and Carol was a firm believer in talking out ones problems.

"Tell me, honey," she gently coaxed, "You'll feel better, and nothing you could do would ever change the way I feel about you. Com'on, what is this thing with Peter? Did you two have a fight?"

"Oh, Mom," Marsha said dejectedly; a desperation in her voice. Suddenly the words spewed forth. "I'm either in love with my brother, or, heaven help me, in lust with him."

The look on her mother's face brought tears to Marsha's eyes. "See! See, I told you! I told you! I can't help it, he's always on my mind, ever since we were kids. I dream about him. I go to bed with men that look like him."

Defiantly, she looked at Carol through teary eyes. "If he asked me, right now, I'd go to bed with him, just to stop this mad craving I have. I think I'm going crazy!" Marsha said and started to cry again, her face against Carol's breast.

Her daughter's confession was like a splash of ice-cold water in the face. Carol's stomach knotted and a guilty shiver shook her body. Hugging Marsha tightly, she rocked her back and forth, feeling the press of her chest against her own; her traitorous body enjoying the pressure of her daughter's big tits. Angrily, she pushed the feeling from her mind.

"Hush, baby," she said, fumbling for words. "Don't cry. You have nothing to feel bad about. It's only normal. All girls have a crush on their big brothers. I have . . . had one on your uncle John. And so does aunt Mary; on your father, I mean."

Carol dabbed a tissue at Marsha's eyes. They were blank and she wasn't sure whether she had heard a word said.

"Most of the time," Carol continued, softly, but with a cold dread in her heart, "you grow out of it. Sometime, like now, I guess, it lasts longer. Maybe it's because Peter isn't your real brother, just your adopted brother and the feelings you think you have appear stronger."

Marsha stood up, blew her nose and wiped her eyes. She shook her head. "Not 'appear' Mom. Are! I kept telling myself the same things you've said, then I'd remember watching him play with himself - yes, I watched him all the time - and I'd just go crazy with desire. Do you have any idea what I'm talking about?" she asked, looking at her mother's gawking face. "I mean, I drool thinking about his cock! His cock, Mom! I have to dream about it to make myself cum, even when I have another guy in me!"

Her shoulders slumped. "It's a perverted fantasy, Mom, and it's taking control of my whole life. I think I'm going crazy."

"Stop it!" Carol snapped. The urge to tell her daughter the truth, to ease her hurt, was overpowering. It took a conscious act on her part to fight the words down. Besides, she thought, what good would it do? The sins of the Mother have already been passed to the Daughter. She took a deep breath and shook the maudlin thought from her mind. One has nothing to do with the other, Carol told herself - but she knew she had to say something; something that would help.

"You're not crazy, Marsha. Far from it."

"Mother!" Marsha interrupted. "I'm talking about incest! You know, fucking my own brother!" Her words were harsh and she was immediately contrite.

"Oh, Mom," she said, taking Carol in her arms, "I'm sorry, I really am. I didn't mean to lay this on you.

"It's a fantasy! It's crazy, but I'll work through it. Don't you worry, I'm not going to do anything stupid."

"Everyone has fantasies, Marsha. Fantasy . . . is part of life, honey, don't shut it out. It can make life bearable until . . . " Carol's voice trailed away. Marsha looked at her strangely. What was her mother trying to tell her?

"Until what, Mom?" Jokingly, she asked, "What's your fantasy?"

The blush on her mother's face brought her up short. Oh, my God, she thought, Mom's had an affair. What else could her fantasy be?

"Making love to another woman," Carol said in a small voice. Now it was Marsha's turn to gawk.

Carol, relating to Marsha's feelings, was trying desperately to give her some solace; to tell her it was alright to have these feelings, just as she had had, but without sharing the family's incestuous secret. That, she knew, would drive her daughter away from her, and possibly, straight into Peter's bed. The sin would be perpetuated!

"It's something that was always there. I was curious about it, that's all. Sometimes I'd look at another woman and I would wonder. Haven't you ever done that?"

Surprised, Marsha found herself nodding. She had thought of making love to another woman, even a three-way with Peter, but she never thought she's heard similar words from the lips of her own mother.

"Everyone has a fantasy, honey; sometimes more than one. Even your mother. And I'll tell you another secret," Carol whispered, "I like to watch my brother jerk-off, too. It's how we first learn about sex. A big brother is every girl's first love."

From the bottom of the stairs Mike heard Carol and Marsha laughing. He hated to break up their private party, but the guests were arriving.

After her mother left, Marsha finished hanging up her clothes. The sharing of secrets and the final laughter, made her feel better about confessing, but she knew the feeling, the gnawing, was still there, just below the surface and Peter was just beyond the door, right on the other side of their connecting bathroom. All she had to do was open the door and walk into Peter's room.

Suddenly, her hand stopped in mid-air, a skirt dangling from the raised hanger. Her mother had said 'have a crush' and 'like to watch' and 'was curious.' A slip of the tongue? One, perhaps. But three? She looked at the closed bedroom door and remembered her mother's words. A sliver of excitement ran up her spine. Had one of those fantasies come true?

* * *

Everyone told Carol that the party was a huge success, and she had to agree. The party-goers were just tipsy enough to let their hair down and have a good time, without being drunk. Carol and her family were no exception. Her only moment of apprehension came when Mary started do the dirty bogie with Peter, a fast, graphic, pelvic-grinding exhibition, but when everyone started to clap and encourage them she let out a sigh of relief and joined in the fun. Twice her ass was pinched by person or persons unknown.

At the beginning, Marsha had danced with her father and uncle, seeing them for the first time through a different set of eyes; trying to envision them the way their kid sisters would have seen them years ago. They were both handsome men. Her Peter - she thought of him in the possessive - would look like his father later in life and that pleased her. He would still be a handsome man when he was . . . Hell, Daddy isn't old, she thought in amazement, I've dated men older than him. And the thought of her father as just a man gave her a strange sexual feeling.

Happy-go-lucky, Uncle John was another story. He was an outrageous flirt, just like his wife. The more he drank, the closer he held her while dancing, his hand frequently straying to the rounded contours of her ass. Once he had even ground his crotch into her pelvis. Marsha had giggled, but her brain registered the size of his prick, and she was impressed. Her face flushed when she realized she was wondering what her father's cock looked like.

As she ushered the last of the guests out the door, Carol caught sight of Peter waving goodnight from the staircase. Marsha was no where in sight and that made Carol sad all over again. Neither of her children had spent any time together during the party; as if they both were trying to avoid contact. She wondered if Peter sensed Marsha's latent desires and was trying to keep his distance. Carol felt as if she was sitting on a case of dynamite.

"Com'on, babe," Mike said, "let's hit the bed."

"Wha . . ." Carol said, her mind miles away.

"I told Mary and John to use the downstairs guest room. He's in no shape to drive. Great Party, kid."

Carol nodded and followed her husband upstairs, but she hadn't heard a word he had said.

* * *



The Bradford Family Saga Part 2



Peter pulled off his tie and jacket and threw them on the chair. He was disgusted with everything. His dream girl, his "Marsha," had hardly said two words to him since their arrival. And tonight, she never danced with him, not even once. He shrugged out of his shirt and tossed it after the others. Rationally, he knew his anger was directed more at himself than at Marsha. His entire fantasy was a pipe-dream and he should have recognized it as such. You just don't go around asking your sister to fuck, he thought. He had been a fool, and he didn't like feeling foolish.

Fortunately, he thought, aunt Mary had come to his rescue. She's really something, he mused. Who would have thought the old girl was so wild? Then he remembered that his aunt was only in her early forties. Not really such an old girl, he thought. Hell, Lucy Parsons' older and she's a fine piece of ass!

Now I'm thinking about banging my own aunt! The irony of the situation made him chuckle. Dear aunt Mary had given him a hard-on more than once tonight, but the one he really wanted to fuck didn't even say 'goodnight.' He shook his head and opened the bathroom door.

Startled, Marsha jerked her head up and looked directly into Peter's eyes. Without conscious thought, she dropped the towel she was holding. She was naked from the waist up. Her bare tits stood out proudly; the nipples, big and rosy. For a lifetime she held her breath as her mind tried to force her mouth to speak. Nothing came out.

Peter stood transfixed. His face flushed as his eyes roamed his sister's beautiful body; his mind registering every contour and curve. His stomach tightening and he felt a sharp pain in his nuts as if they were caught in a vise. Sheepishly, he mumbled, "Excuse me" and closed the door. The pain in his balls, like his frustration, intensified.

Fucking blue-balls! Angrily, he stripped, pulled on his swimtrunks and headed for the pool.

Marsha stared blankly at the closed door. Her mouth was dry and her throat felt constricted; shivers ran up her spine and goosebumps rose on her flesh. Her cunt was dewy. Fool! Fool, she thought, but as her mind screamed she wasn't sure who she was accusing. Herself or Peter? She threw the towel down and went into her room. The empty bed seemed to smirk at her. There would be no sleeping tonight, she realized sadly. Then she stripped, put on a robe and went downstairs.

CHAPTER FIVE

Peter stood in the shallow end of the S-shaped pool; the end away from the house. Surrounded by shrubs and trees it was private and secluded. Peaceful.

Churning the water to foam he had tried to burn the image of Marsha from his fevered mind. His cock still ached with desire, but the pain in his balls was gone. He shook the water from his hair.

"Ow!" He yelped as something - somebody! - squeezed his prick, then forced his legs opened and swam through them. His aunt surfaced in front of him, water streaming off her voluptuous body. She was wearing a white, one-piece bathing suit that he could practically see through - the hardened nipples of her big tits stood out like round little pebbles, and the tangle of cunt-fur was dark against the white material. He felt his cock stiffen.

"Hi, lover! I saw you swimming and I'd thought I'd join you for some fun and games."

"Er, aunt Mary! You scared the shit out of me."

She giggled. "That wasn't what I wanted to come out and greet me," she said coyly, moving close to him. The tips of her tits touched his chest and his cock jumped automatically, jabbing her in the crotch.

"Ooooo, now that's more like it!" she said in a husky whisper. Her arms went around him and she pressed her pliant body against his, her cunt grinding against his prick. Sweat broke out on his forehead and his breathing became ragged. His hands ached to squeeze her full, ripe tits, but this was his aunt, his rational mind kept saying - his father's sister! - he couldn't do this!

"Aunt Mary, this is insane! I can't do . . ."

His lovely aunt humped her pussy against his swollen cock. "Sure you can, lover. You want to! You really do, and I want you to do it! Fuck me, Peter!" she said, her voice almost a rasp. "Stick your beautiful cock in me and fuck me ragged!"

An image of Marsha's nakedness came to him and his steel-like cock threatened to tear through his trunks. His mind reeled and blinding lust filled his body. He pulled Mary to him and passionately covered her lips, his hands, roughly, kneading her sensitive skin. A moan of exquisite pleasure parted her lips as she fondled his hard cock.

Their hands tore at each others clothing until they were naked. Mary grabbed his shoulders and hoisted herself above his jutting prick, then, slowly she lowered her boiling pussy onto the throbbing member. She felt Peter's cockhead part her pussylips, stretching her cunt-channel; the water gurgling around her hot hole, squishing, as his cock slid up into her slick, waiting pussy.

* * *

Marsha paced in the semi-darkness of the den, her mind in turmoil. Her desire for her brother was becoming an obsession, and now, flirting on the edges of her mind was visions of her father's cock, and her uncle's, too. She didn't know what was happening to her or why these feelings and these images were plaguing her. She tried to shut them out but her brain refused and in her mind she could feel their cocks entering her body and her mouth, thrilling her almost to death. Her cunt was wet again. Marsha Bradford feared for her sanity.

She threw herself down on the couch. The TV's remote control stabbed her in the ass and she winced. Absent- minded, she flicked it to ON. The screen lit up in a crazy zig-zag pattern of gray lines. Stupidly, she stared at it until she realized that it was set for VCR play. She pressed the PLAY button.

* * *

Carol Bradford lay in bed listening to her husband's quiet snoring. Sleep eluded her. She got up, covered her naked body with a robe and quietly went downstairs. She had a dull ache in her head from too much wine and too much mental tension. The party had only postponed the whirling thoughts that Marsha had put in her mind. What should she do? Tell her the truth? What would that do? Make her run to her brother's bed - start another cycle of incest? - or shock her so much that she would never speak to her again? How, she wondered, could a daughter have the same perverted desires as her mother?

Her mind swirled and she giggled to herself. What I need right now, she thought, is a good stiff cock! That would take my mind off everything. She remembered Peter standing on the stairs, his tight pants outlining the heavy mound of his prick and balls, waving goodnight to her. She licked her lips as the camera of her mind's eye focused on his crotch. Mary's words came back to her: 'just the type you like!' It was true! Marsha's confession had set her vivid imagination into motion, and the thought of Peter's hard cock up her pussy had made her blood boil and her pussy ooze with cuntjuice. How she had envied her sister, Mary, when she was dancing with Peter, seeing her hips grind against his hard body. She had blushed beet red when a trickle of cum-cream dribbled down her hot thigh.

Shaking her head she tried to untangle herself from the morass of emotions inside herself. Dejectedly, she headed for the quiet of the family den.

* * *

It took a full thirty seconds for Marsha Bradford to realize she was watching a home video of her mother and father having oral sex. Blushing with embarrassment, Marsha stared, transfixed as her father sat in a straight-back chair, his long, thick cock, hard and erect. Her mother knelt before him, fingering his heavy ballsac; her tongue gliding, wet and shiny, up and down, coating his shaft with a layer of saliva. Her eyes were bright with desire.

There were no words spoken but she could hear their mewing of passion; the slurp of her mother's tongue, her father' heavy breathing. Aghast, Marsha tried to flick the video off, but her fumbling fingers couldn't find the right switch. Just then a naked leg straddled her father's lap, and a heavily thatched pussy positioned itself above his saliva covered prick. Marsha gawked as the camera closed in on the churning, dripping cunt and the angry, purple prick- head slipping between the puffy cuntlips. The remote control fell from her trembling fingers as the camera pulled back, revealing, to her astonished eyes, her aunt's face, contorted with passion.

Her mind reeled as she tried to cope with what she was seeing and hearing. Her father was fucking his own sister! And her mother! She was lavishly licking her husband's balls and her sister's cunt and tits! Her mother was actively condoning incest!

Marsha watched, in horrid fascination, as her mother's tongue darted from hairy balls to protruding clit, then up to jutting tits, her nimble, snake-like tongue circling each swollen nipple, sucking each one, in turn, into her hot mouth. A camera close-up caught the passion and lust of the women's dueling tongues, as they hungrily entwined, and her mother's hands squeezing her aunt's firm tits.

The video was sending conflicting signals to Marsha's brain: embarrassment, anger, and voyeuristic pleasure. It was all jumbled up. Making love to her brother was an obsessive desire! Making love to another woman was just a stray thought - a true fantasy - but here was her mother and her aunt actually doing what she had only dreamt about. She blinked as the camera jiggled, then steadied.

The picture had been pulled back. Mary's body twisted lewdly on her brother's humping prick, the long shaft glistening with pussy-juice as it plunged in and out of her grasping cunt while her mother showered the fucking couple with wet kisses. A naked man stepped into view, his cock hard and sticking straight out.

Marsha's hands covered her mouth as she watched her uncle John smile and finger his heavily veined prick, then pull his sister - her mother! - away. Without preamble they embraced and he began fondling her lovely body; his mouth finding her full tits, his fingers probing her blonde cunt thatch. Marsha's body was on fire! Her cunt was drooling and the nipples of her beautiful tits were hard and sore. She was unaware of how hard she was squeezing them.

She watched in stunned fascination as the camera showed her mother's smiling face sucking her brother's hairy cock, her fingers playing with her own wet pussy as she did; eyes slitted with passion and her mouth full of thick prick-meat. Marsha could see her mother's saliva shining on her uncle's cock.

When she heard her mother tell her brother to fuck her, to stick it deep in her cunt, Marsha covered her mouth, stifling the urge to scream - not vindictiveness, but her frustration and passion. The walls of convention, of mental imprisonment were crumbling around her.

* * *

When Carol entered the room and saw what Marsha was watching she felt the world cave in on her; a mammoth avalanche of despair that blocked out all light and air. She hugged herself as her body shook with humiliation. Tears streaked her cheeks as she watched herself get fucked side- saddle, by her own brother! Her left leg stood almost straight up giving the camera a spectacular shot of John's large prick, slick with cum-juice, driving deep into her twisting body. When she heard the passion erupt from her mouth, she screamed.

Marsha jumped up, startled by the eerie sound; something that sounded like a wail of despair. Her own body was trembling with suppressed desire and her breathing was ragged so it took a moment for her fevered brain to focus. Her mother stood at the door, her body bent forward, shaking, tears running down her cheeks. Her robe had become loose and through the gap, Marsha could see the swells of her tits and part of a naked leg. A strange, tingling sensation rippled through her body, making her cunt contract and filling it with hot pussycream. Her mind pictured her mother's blonde, wet cunt, a twin of her own, and her lust spilled over.

"Marsha! . . . Marsha! . . . I can explain, I . . ."

Carol's words stuck in her throat as Marsha, her eyes bright with excitement, pulled her robe open and exposed her body. She stiffened as her daughter's hungry lips covered her own and her hot tongue twisted in her mouth, probing its softness. A moan escaped her lips as strong hands gripped her tits and harshly kneaded the yielding flesh. Carol felt her legs begin to tremble and her cunt start to fill with the hot juices of her body. A small, rational part of her mind tried to tell her that this was wrong, but a blinding light filled her senses, blocking out all rational thought. Marsha had, roughly, stuck a finger up her cunt!

Pulling her mother to the couch, Marsha sought Carol's lips. Entwining their tongues, each felt the response and electric thrills ran up their spines. Hands pulled roughly at the constricting robes as both were consumed by a forbidden passion fueled by fantasy, guilt, and frustration. They had to have each other!

Naked, they rolled around the floor; arms and legs entwined, as the television screen continued to flash the family's secret before them. Marsha was dimly aware of her mother being fucked by a strong, young man; someone around Peter's age.

Carol, now in the throes of lust, spread Marsha's cunt wide open with her thumbs. Pressing her nose to the steaming slit, she inhaled the tart aroma of female pussycream. A small drop of cuntjuice dripped onto her outstretched tongue, and with a moan of lust and anguish, she buried her face in Marsha's sopping cunt and began to suck greedily. Marsha's groans turned into pleasurable moans.

"Mmmmmmmm! Mmmmmmmm!" Marsha moaned as her mother's tongue began to stir strange, hidden feelings in her body. Her cunt was being sucked by another woman! Incredible excitement surged through her, heightened by the knowledge of whose mouth was thrilling her.

Marsha rolled their bodies over and Carol's active tongue never left her snatch; never missed a lick as it rushed over her extended clit like a fast moving stream, making her limbs twitch uncontrollably. Now, she could see Carol's blonde-furred box, dripping with hot juice, directly above her mouth and nose. As she gazed at it in wonder, Carol pushed her cunt down, hard, completely covering Marsha's face and the tart female juices flowed freely into her mouth. She swallowed and the musky taste drove her tongue deep into her mother's pussy searching for more.

Like gladiators, locked in combat, their tongues stabbed and their hands probed; each straining to give and to receive.

"Oh, God! Mommy! I'm gonna cum . . . I'm gonna cum!"

"Yes, baby, yes!" Carol mumbled. "Cum! Let me suck your cum! . . . . . Yesssssss!"

Waves of pleasure washed over their misted bodies as the multiple cums began to flow, and Marsha realized the sexual dizziness that only another woman's tongue could produce. Her body arched, and began to shake with uncontrollable tremors. Her pussy erupted and she squirted her lust into Carol's waiting mouth; the hot cum dribbling down her mother's cheeks and into the crack of her ass.

Her body still shaking, Marsha wrapped her legs around Carol's twisting head, holding it captive; keeping her probing, snake-like tongue prisoner; her hips humping into a cum-slick face.

Carol wailed into her daughter's thick muff as Marsha sucked hard on her exposed clit, sending a torrent of sizzling cunt-juice flowing into her mouth and over her cheeks. In their passion, they had cum like men, shooting globs of juice into each other's mouth.

They broke apart, bodies panting and smiled lovingly at each other. The grinding sex had been a cathartic experience for them; a purging of guilt and frustration. In its wake only love, pleasure and desire existed.

Marsha pointed toward the flickering screen. "How did you all get together?" she asked, watching a close-up shot of her aunt flushed face; her mouth open and three erupting cocks -her father's and uncle, and the strange young man - splash cum all over her face and mouth. Excited, she watched Mary's mouth swallow glob after glob, her tongue searching for the stray drops that ran down her nose and cheeks. She appeared immensely happy.

Carol reached over for the remote control and turned the set off. "You can see that some other time. I feel foolish having you watch that. I always knew it would get us in trouble one of these days."

Marsha smiled. "Don't feel bad. If it wasn't for that nothing would have happened tonight and I'd still think I was nuts." She threw her arms wide, pulling her lovely tits up. "You don't know how good I feel; how free."

"Oh, yes I do, baby. Yes, I do!"

Marsha moved closer, her still warm body touching Carol's. "How did it happen? You and uncle John and aunt Mary?"

"Well," Carol sighed, consigned to tell the story, "it started just after you left for San Francisco. Over a year ago. The four of us went to Las Vegas for a weekend, remember? Well, between Mike and John, they won around a thousand dollars. So, we had a party."

"A sex party?" Marsha asked, incredulously.

"No, silly! A celebration. We went out and painted the town red, white and blue." Carol hesitated. "Well, to make a long story short. We had a suite at the hotel and Mary and I were feeling no pain. When we couldn't take another drink we left the boys at the bar and went off to bed.

"I don't really know what happened, even the guys can't figure it out, but when they came up, pretty tipsy, they went to the wrong bedrooms." Carol shrugged eloquently.

"Oh, no," Marsha said, "I want to hear it all. Don't give me that shrug of the shoulder bit."

Carol giggled. She actually enjoyed telling the story, but was still embarrassed and needed prodding to go on.

"You can imagine what happened next. I woke up with this thick cock nudging me in the ass, and the next thing I knew I was on all fours getting fucked doggie style." She put her hands up, searching for the right words. "Sex was always good, but like a lot of couples it wasn't as . . . exciting as it once was. This . . . this was somehow different, not better . . . just different. Yes, that's it. John's cock felt different! His whole style of fucking was not what I was used to.

"Well, there was a mirror behind the bed and when I looked up, there was your uncle John, fucking my pussy for all it was worth! All of a sudden I'm cumming like a waterfall. I can't stop! I know it's my brother and I know it's wrong, but I'm so excited, so hot and horny I can't do anything about it. I didn't want to do anything about it!

"All my schoolgirl fantasies came flooding back; my handsome brother, the football hero with all the girls after him. My incredible secret crush! I wanted a boyfriend just like him. Actually, I wanted him. I use to masturbate dreaming about him. He was my fantasy!" Carol sighed.

"Well, like I said, we fucked and fucked. And I came and came. Afterwards, Johnny told me that when he realized who he was screwing his cock doubled in size. He said he had to keep fucking me. He couldn't stop either."

"What was aunt Mary and Daddy doing all this time?"

"The same thing. And they felt the same, too. Even after they knew who they were in bed with, they had to keep at it. The excitement was just too much! It was as if all our emotions, all our passions had been walled up and this just shattered the barriers.

"I can tell you we were pretty sheepish in the morning. No one could think of the right thing to say. No one wanted to admit how much they enjoyed it. Thank God, for Mary. After a silence that was terrifying she ups and admits that she fucked her brother, loved fucking her brother, and wanted to fuck him again. Her honesty made me stand up and admit how I felt, too. I still loved Mike, but I also loved fucking John. And, like Mary, I wanted to do it again.




The Bradford Family Saga Part 2



"We did a lot of talking after that. We told ourselves that we were adults, that incest didn't really apply to us because we weren't kids, and this was something we wanted to do." Carol shrugged again. "So we did it! First, just by ourselves, alone, I mean. Then we got daring and did it together and that was even a bigger kick. The rest is history."

Carol turned to her daughter. Marsha hadn't heard the last part of the story. She had fallen asleep, exhausted, a smile on her face and a finger inserted, deep, in her pussy.

Carol covered her with her robe. She hadn't told her about the other couples that they had fucked; orgies, really, but, she thought, that could wait. So could all the video's, the evidence of their combined pleasures. Yes, it all could wait. There had been enough excitement for one night in the Bradford house.

CHAPTER SIX

Carol paused outside of Peter's room. She listened at the door, but heard no sound. Did she dare try to talk to him, make him understand his sister's desires, prepare him for what she was sure would come? What would she say to him?

She hesitated, a trembling hand on the doorknob. Taking a deep breath, she turned the knob. The nightlight bathe the room in a soft, semi-darkness. The bed was turned down, but had not been slept in. Surprised, she looked at the clock. It was after midnight. Where could he be? Her mind started to race with concern before she finally realized that Peter wasn't a boy anymore. Wherever he was, he could take care of himself.

She sat on the bed, suddenly exhausted; her pluck dissolving, leaving her sleepy and forlorn. She would rest, just for a moment. Peter! You poor baby, she thought as she laid down, you're surrounded by people who have taken a different road than you. Please try to understand, her drifting mind asked the enfolding darkness.

Carol dozed, her mind flitting from memory to memory. The full wonders of sex and passion had come somewhat late to her, aided by an exciting accident. Her body had responded to dormant stimuli, and suddenly, yesterday's perversions became today's pleasures. Behind closed doors, her passion knew no bounds, everything was pleasure. There were no taboos. Only in the light of day did the dread of exposure clutch at her heart, but it was night, and she was safe to dream, to feel, and to want.

* * *

Peter didn't pay any attention to the light in the den as he slowly, and quietly, started to climb the stairs. His legs hurt like hell and his shoulders bore teeth and nail marks, vivid testimony to his aunt's passion. He shook his head, still not quite believing what had happened.

It had been insane! But it had also been, maddeningly exciting. He could still feel his cock pushing the walls of Mary's hot cunt apart; the slippery wetness sucking him deep into an unbelievable molten furnace. Her legs had gone around his waist and she had plunged her ass up and down his rigid cock as hard as she could, all the time digging her fingers into his shoulders and nipping at his chest. Her cunt was a gushing volcano, a vicious vise that clamped on his prick and refused to let go. And all the while, her hips churned, frantically turning one way then the other, trying their best to rip his cock off.

He had held her up by the asscheeks, trying to control her rhythm; match her passion, but she was so wild he had trouble just hanging on. Her cums had started almost immediately, building one on top of the other until he could no longer tell when or how many. She just kept cumming, and when he shot his load, the top of his head almost came off.

He had never fucked anyone so wild.

They had sunk to the bottom of the pool, the cooling water up to their chins. "Just what I like," she had said huskily, "good, hard cock! We're going to have lots of fun, sweet nephew."

"Aunt Mary . . ."

"Mary! Just, Mary," she said with a smile. "I'm not that much older than you."

"Haw! If I didn't, I sure know now. But what about uncle John?"

He was surprised when she threw back her head and laughed. She put her arms around him and held his face close. "If he's a good boy, I may let him make a movie of us fucking each other. He's like that."

It was a crazy statement, but Peter's hands had already encircled her waist and were drifting up to her full tits. Mary had a lovely set of tits, he thought, fondling them, making her moan with renewed passion, almost as nice as Marsha's. His cock twitched again as he remembered his sister standing in the bathroom, her beautiful tits proud and erect. Mary giggled. "Ooooo, goody," she said. "Round two."

This time they fucked on the pool stairs, with the water lapping at her pussy again; her legs up high on his shoulders. Afterwards, she had cleaned his sticky cock with her mouth, her tongue searching for every last, tacky, smear of cum-juice. Her mouth was warm and soft and moist. When she was finished he was squeaky clean and he had another hard-on.

"Oh, boy, am I tempted, but my pussy's been pounded like a rock today." Her hand circled his thick shaft, her fingers barely touching. "You keep this ready for another time. If I know my family, you're going to have a very busy weekend."

That was the second crazy thing she had said, he thought as he reached his room. She was a great piece of ass but he was convinced that she was a bit wacky. He opened his door.

His hand froze on the doorknob and his breath caught in his throat. He couldn't believe his eyes. Marsha lay coiled up on the bed, her back to him. The soft, semi-darkness created erotic shadings in the valleys of her body. He looked around hastily. It was no mistake. He was in his own room!

Despite the time spent with his aunt, Peter got a hard- on as he eyed her shapely buttocks and watched her chest rise and fall, rhythmically. His mind filled with images of her loveliness, flaming his frustration and his passion. Slowly, he approached the bed, aware that he should turn and leave before she woke, but just once, he wanted to get close to her - just once, put his arms around her.

Carol knew she was dreaming and she smiled in the twilight world of half-sleep. She felt her dream lover's approach and the bed sag under his weight. She curled her body to fit his contours, feeling the prodding stiffness of his heavy cock, warm, against her back. She pushed back with her ass. The stiff prick twitched as it touched her back and asscheeks and a low moan escaped her lips.

She knew he was young and strong. All her dream lovers were. His arm came across her body and cupped her sensitive tit. An electric shock tingled her cunt and she began to juice up. Lewdly, she rubbed her ass up against his rigid fuckpole. It felt wonderful, and thrilling and her breathing became ragged.

His hand kneaded her full tit, and toyed with the nipple, making it stand hard and erect. Turning to him, she moaned in real passion, her face still hidden by the darkness. She sighed as her hands encircled his cock, the thing she craved. It was thick, and meaty, and long, and the head was moist with passion. Dreamily, she cooed. It would fill her wonderfully.

She heard her dream lover mumble, but couldn't catch the words. It didn't matter. He slid down her trembling body, opening her robe, exposing her pleasure pit. She ran her hands over his hard body as he went by, feeling his strength, his vitality. Her body jumped and arched upward as his mouth clamped on her cunt. She wailed in loud surprise. Shooting bolts of lightening surged through her body as his tongue rammed through the blonde thatch, into her dewy cunt. Her eyes snapped open and a cold sliver of reality stabbed her mind.

This was no dream! This was real! Someone was eating her pussy! Her mind fought against the enormity of it all while her body begged her to surrender to the wonderful pleasures that were charging upward to her brain. Her eyes were blurring. She dug her fingers into his hair and tried to pull his head, to recognize him, but he couldn't be budged. His face, buried in her mound, remained hidden in the darkness.

"No!" she hissed. "No! Stop! . . . please! Oh, God, that feels so good." She gasped and her mind whirled and she felt the fight go out of her body as his tongue swirled around her puffy cuntlips, leaving a trail of wet, tingling pleasures behind. Her juice flowed like a river as another sharp bolt of pleasure coursed through her steaming pussy. She grabbed his hair, this time twisting his face into her pleasure-raw pussy, smearing her tart, musky, love-juice all over him.

"Oh, yessss!" she panted. "Suck my cunt! Lick my juice! Oh, God! Make me cum! Ohhhhhh . . . I love it so much! . . . Whoever you are . . . please make me cum!" she moaned in a small, desperate voice.

Peter was in another world. Years of fantasy, of frustration, of suppressed desire had sent his mind to a place where convention and morality, even words could not enter. Morality be dammed, he thought. He was sucking Marsha's cunt and nothing else mattered; nothing except the tangy juices that flowed over his twisting, stabbing tongue.

He felt the fight in her body, heard her demands for release, felt the painful tugging of his hair, but he refused to let go. Not until he had exorcised this demon from his body. Not until he had stuffed her full of his engorged cock!

Carol felt the stranger reach over her squirming thighs and pull her cuntlips apart with his fingers. She knew her naked clitoris was staring at him, pink and vulnerable. He sucked it into his hot mouth and she jumped and cried out in passion. Her toes clutched with each smack of his lips and the last long suck sent a tidal wave of pleasure through her body and triggered her orgasm. She wailed, hardly aware of where she was, or who she was with. It didn't matter! Only the pleasure mattered! She was drowning in pleasure, her body racked with tic-like spasms, and yet, she wanted more.

Carol's body heaved, and she panted with sudden exhaustion; perspiration trickled down her brow but a small smile played at the corners of her lips and she sighed. Never had she been sucked with such intensity; never with such passion. Her body shivered and tingled and her cunt drooled at the thought of being filled. Her eyes opened slowly and she saw the shadowy shape of her real life dream lover rear up in front of her, his beautiful cock bobbing in front. It was magnificent! Automatically, she opened her legs to receive him - this stranger - this pleasure giver.

The moon cast a small silvery light across the room; across his face. Her brain registered recognition, but didn't believe, and before she could react it was too late to save herself.

"Noooooooooo!" she wailed in desperation as Peter drove his rock-hard cock into her sizzling, dripping, wide-open cunt. His rod parted the waiting pussylips and sunk easily into the hot depths of her body. She writhed against the mattress, legs spread; her body involuntarily undulating. She moaned and gibbered incoherently, but her rational mind screamed at her. You're fucking your own step-son!

Fighting against her traitorous body, her fists pounded his humping body. Her nails raked his heaving back. Still he drove into her, making her cunt contract, sending fiery thrills throughout her demanding flesh. She bit her lip, desperately hoping the pain would make her body heed the small, rational voice. Her charged sensory system erupted as another surge of his powerful cock filled her up. The small voice faded into the darkness and Carol surrendered to the most exquisite ecstasy imaginable.

"Uhggggggg! Aaaaaaah! Oh, Peter! Peter!" she gushed as the pleasure of his prick filled every pore of her body, sweeping her away, into an abyss. She wrapped her legs around Peter's loins, digging her heels into his asscheeks, forcing his cock deeper into the surging volcano of her cunt. His cock felt huge! Mammoth! It filled her up and pounded her sweaty body down into the mattress again and again. She twisted her hips lewdly, matching him, stroke for plunging stroke. Her lips showered him with hot, passionate kisses.

It was deja vu! A beginning and a continuation. It was the supreme taboo! And the supreme pleasure!

A blinding explosion of primary colors filled her brain and she was swept up in an excitement that defied descrip- tion. Her only, truly conscious, thought: Marsha is going to be so very jealous.

Then the tidal wave rolled over her.

"Ohhhhhh! Fuck me!" she whispered, "Fuck meeeee!

"I can't hold it!" Peter groaned. "Marsha! Baby! I'm cumming! . . . cummmmmmmmmmm!"

"Yesssssssss!"

Carol's eyes rolled back and her body shuddered as Peter's cock flexed violently in the deep well of her cunt and his cum spurted, hotly, against her pussy-walls. She dug her fingers into his flesh.

"Eeeeiiiii! Awwwwwwwww! . . . Ohhhhhhh!" Peter gasped through clenched teeth; his eyes glazing as his erupting cock sent explosions of cum into his fantasy, his "Marsha."

Carol clung to his rigid body as his prick still pulsed in her cunt. She jerked and shuttered like a rag doll; her pleasure so intense, tears ran down her cheeks.

Peter slumped on her, exhausted, his body dead weight on her yielding flesh. She held him in tight desperation, trying to forestall the reality that slowly threatened to shatter this one moment in time.

"Marsha," Peter mumbled, ". . . forgive me . . . waited so long . . . wanted you."

Carol heard his plea for forgiveness and realized what had happened. He thought she was Marsha! He thought he was fucking her! Oh, my God, she thought, these poor kids.

Peter propped himself up and pushed the matted hair away from her face. His hand froze and his face became a mask of disbelief. No! No! This had to be a bad dream. His tortured mind screamed at him. He couldn't have fucked his own mother, he just couldn't have. His brain was stabbed with the ice cold spear of his enormous sin. He had fucked his father's wife! His laugh became hysterical.

Carol gathered him to her and began to make soothing sounds in his ear. She had to make him understand. There was no sin in pleasure. His feelings for Marsha were no different than the hidden feeling she had for her brother, or Mike, for his sister. She felt no remorse. Fucking her stepson was no more a sin than fucking her brother. She would make him understand. She had to.

She held him at arms length and shook him. "Stop, Peter, stop that!" she commanded.

"Mom . . . I didn't know . . . I thought . . . I'm sorry," he said and his voice trailed away.

"You thought I was Marsha. I wish it had been, for both your sakes; she would have loved to be fucked like that, with so much pleasure. But if it couldn't be Marsha, I'm glad it was me."

He stared at her, uncomprehending. "Wha . . . you enjoyed? . . . Marsha? . . . Being fucked by me? That's incest!"

Carol smiled and shook his head. "We committed no sin, Peter. Do you understand? No sin! The only thing we've done is share ourselves. Did you enjoy fucking me?"

Suddenly aware of Carol's lovely nakedness, Peter blushed and shrugged his shoulders. Then he laughed. "I did enjoy it! I can't lie about that. You're a great fuck . . . I mean . . . " He shrugged again, eying her body and remembering the wanton response of her grasping pussy. "That was supposed to be a compliment."

Carol hugged him tightly and giggled. "I took it as one. You know, you have a great cock! I hate to admit it but it's bigger than your father's."

Peter blanched at the mention of his father, but Carol patted his cheek. "I'm going to tell you a secret, Peter. It's really a family secret because we're all involved, even you and Marsha.

"And after I do that," - she reached for his sticky, cock and began to finger it back to life - "I think you'll want to stick that lovely fuckpole back inside me and really give me a ride."

Carol could tell Peter didn't understand what she was talking about, but her loving arms were open, beckoning him to her, and when they folded around his strong body she knew that his understanding would come.



The Bradford Family Saga Part 3



CHAPTER SEVEN

Marsha was groggy and disoriented when she woke up. Blankly, she looked at her naked body beneath the wrinkled robe that covered her, and then it all came back to her. She and her mother had sucked each other's cunt! And they had climaxed in each other's hot mouth! And what climaxes! The tangy aroma of pussycream was still in her nostrils; the tacky smears of her mother's love-juices still stuck to her nose and cheeks. Now she knew the wonders of a another woman's loving tongue, and why some women believed it was the greatest; only a woman truly knew the secret of another females' body. She didn't feel dirty or perverted, the way people said you would. She felt free! Free from convention and the gnawing desires that she couldn't name.

She sat up and looked around the room. The TV triggered another memory. That incredible story! No wonder, she thought, I'm the way I am; the whole family has the same burning desires. Maybe everyone does, but my family had the courage to follow their feelings, she thought. Stretching her stiff body she ran a hand through her thick blonde hair and chuckled, knowing she sounded stupid, and not caring. She was wonderfully alive and a whole new world spread out before her. She felt like an explorer; an explorer with a whole world of sexual pleasures spread out before her, just waiting for her to chart a course. And she owed it all to her mother, and the original explorers of her loving family. Her head snapped around to the TV and the images of her family came back to her. She blushed as she tried to envision herself among them. Could she really fuck her own father - stepfather! - and uncle? Would they even want her?

She put on her robe and tiptoed up the carpeted stairway, feeling her way through the darkness, not wanting to make the slightest noise. A world of sexual adventure waited for her, but she was unsure of her first step. How would she start? It was something she had to ask her mother about. When she reached the top of the stairs she heard a small muffled moan. It sounded familiar and she strained her ears trying to place it. It came again as she started up the hallway; a sensual sound, followed by a rhythmic whoosh, like air being pumped in and out of a balloon. Her body quivered in response to the unnamed stimuli. Quietly, she padded barefoot down to Peter's room. The sounds were coming from inside.

Bewildered, she put her ear to the door. She heard muted grunts and groans; a familiar female sigh was almost loud. Dismayed, she dropped to the floor and tried to look through the keyhole. In the half-light, she could only see moving shadows, but passion-filled voices came to her. Her mouth gaped as the words came to her.

"Ohhhh, Peter! Fuck my pussy! Harder! Make me cum! Oh, God ... yesssss!"

"Yeah! Oh, Momma! Squeeze my prick!"

They were fucking! Peter! Carol! Her mother! Her mind ran a gauntlet of emotions: envy, jealousy, love, lust, then, the mist cleared as the rightness of it all came to her. The initiation of the young! This was the way it was meant to be. She was sure of it.

Hands against the door, Marsha's body heated up and her cunt contracted. She shivered as a stream of sizzling pussycream filled her cunt. Squeezing her thighs together, a thrill shot up her spine as she envisioned her handsome brother and beautiful mother fucking each other, their bodies moving up and down as one; his heavy cock plunging in and out of her juicy blonde muff. In her mind she could see Carol's cunt surrounding Peter's cock, her legs wrapped tightly across his back; her hands gripping the cheeks of his ass, kneading them, urging them forward.

The mental movie, stimulated by the sounds of their passion, rolled through her mind, flashing vivid, sexual, images of the people she loved on her brain. Marsha squeezed her still-sore tits, until the nipples stood stiff, then she roughly stuck her middle finger up her sopping cunt, twisting it back and forth as it scraped along the fiery walls of her pussy. A wave of dizziness swept over her and she slumped to the floor, her legs akimbo. A kaleidoscope of brilliant colors erupted before her eyes. Her finger rammed up her cunt without mercy. She clamped her jaw tightly as a hot orgasm rippled over her.

Her mother's voice, in the throes of her own orgasm, came to her, enflaming her; driving her on to greater heights. She squeezed her eyes shut and raced her finger over the silky-slick, pink bud of her clitoris. Cum! Cum! she begged. Oh, God, how she wanted them! Peter's cock filling her up; Carol's lips on her naked cunt, sucking her clit. She wanted to suck on his cock, feel his cum splash in her mouth. She wanted to taste the tangy flavor of her mother's cuntjuice.

Marsha's thumb massaged her clit and two fingers explored the sticky wetness of her pleasure-raw pussy. Clamping her thighs around her twisting right hand, she rocked her hips back and forth, fucking herself on her stiff, sticky, fingers. Another cum eluded her. She rolled the hardened nipples of her tits around in the palm of her left hand, then pushed the large globes to her mouth. Her tongue sent tingling sensations across the sensitive flesh, causing her cunt to contract and imprison her demanding fingers.

"Fuck! Fuck! Oh, how I need a cock in me!" she hissed into the darkness. Her eyes focused on the door of her parent's room, just yards away, and a vision of her father's long, slender cock, slimy with cum, lit up her mind like a neon sign. She licked her lips. So close! So far! Could she do it? In her mind, the door seem to surge back and forth, taunting her. She hesitated. The sound of her mother cumming, reaching an unscaled peak, came to her.

Yes! Yes, she could!

Marsha pulled her fingers from her pulsing cunt; silvery strands of cum-juice clinging to them. She licked them clean, savoring the tart cunt flavor on her tongue. She smiled at the door hiding her brother and mother from the night, then silently, like a cat, she crossed the hall, to her father's door and slowly opened it.

* * *

Mike Bradford was sprawled across the king-sized bed, his body partially uncovered. Even in the half-light, Marsha could tell that he was naked beneath the sheet. A tingling sense of anticipation clutched at her heaving chest as she leaned against the bedroom door. Anticipation gave way to sexual excitement as her father rolled over, exposing his cock and balls. They dangled snake-like between his legs. Marsha clutched her stomach as her cunt began to flow anew. She was amazed at the amount of juice she was producing. Mike's legs opened wide. She smiled and licked her lips hungrily. She knew precisely what she was going to do.

She shrugged out of her robe, and let it fall to the floor. The bed sagged - just a bit - under her weight. When she folded her body against his, he responded by moving closer. Her full, super-sensitive tits rubbed up against his warm skin, and sent a tingling up her spine. His hand brushed her tangle of blonde cunt-hair, and she shivered.

Gently rubbing the tips of her fingers along his arms and legs, she felt the heat of his body, the light mist of perspiration on his flesh. He murmured in his sleep as her trembling fingers, gently, touched his flaccid shaft, barely stroking it.

No, don't wake up, Daddy dear, she thought, not yet. Not until I want you too. Her warm hand cupped his heavy balls. She rolled them in the palm of her hand and played with the thick strands of hair before putting them down and fondling his cock. Mike's prick jerked in her hand, the heat activating it, giving it life. Her thumb rubbed across the sensitive knob, and his shaft stiffened. Holding her prize firmly in her right hand, she got on her hands and knees and straddled her father's sleeping form. She positioned her corn-silk pussy just inches from his nose and mouth, knowing that the heavy, sex-flavor aroma of her cunt would soon fill his nostrils, and his brain. In the darkness, she heard him stiff and loudly lick his lips. She smiled.

Gently, ever-so-gently, Marsha rubbed her cunt-fur over his face. She felt him twitch as the pubic strands tickled his mouth and nose. Her hand kneaded his slender rod, working it to full length and hardness. Wide-eyed, she watched it grow from her ministrations and marveled as the lean, marble-hard prick reached full erection.

Mike groaned and his breathing became deeper, more rapid, matching Marsha's as the tension built up in her. His cock twitched in her sweaty hand, and she stared at the pisshole, seeing it as a one-eyed monster. Panting, she flicked her tongue over it, washing the crown with her saliva. The taste was musky, with a hint of salt.

Wonderful!

With a smile of triumph, Marsha lowered her blonde head and his shaft sank into the warm moistness of her mouth. She heard a gravel-like groan from her father, and felt his hips begin to slowly rotate, moving his awakened prick around in the hotness of her mouth.

"Mmmmmmm," he mewed softly.

Marsha felt his body becoming active as sleep began to leave him. His hands found her asscheeks and she thrilled as he started to knead them, his fingers strong, but gentle. This was the moment she had been waiting for. Lowering her muff over his face, she ground her cunt into his open mouth. Hungrily, she sucked his prick deep into the cavern of her mouth as his tongue darted up her slick pussy.

She was sucking her father's cock! He was licking her wide-open pussy, lapping her flowing juice like a hungry cat.

Was he really awake? Did he realize whose pussy he was eating? Could he tell the difference? The questions jumbled in her mind as his pleasure-giving tongue sent shivers of electricity racing to her brain. She felt his lips clamp on her clit, giving it a sucking kiss. A blinding shockwave coursed through her body and she almost lost his cock. It popped, wetly, from her mouth, but snapped back into her face like a hinged door. Quickly, she sucked it back to its warm cradle, licking it like a lost treasure; unable to stop herself from sighing out-loud.

Her father's squirming tongue explored the wet, upper walls of her steaming pussy and she shuddered. Even her mother's nimble tongue hadn't gotten this far up her cunt! Her mouth tightened on his dickhead and her hand pumped his rock-hard shaft as her body jerked from the sharp pins and needles effect of his cunt-licking.

Marsha was in a sexual heaven that had no dimension. Her fevered brain was receiving sensations that only a true loved one could give to another. This was the ultimate pure pleasure! Her breathing was rapid, and she let out little gasps as she squirmed her cunt down on his face, mashing his nose in the tangle of soft, wet, hair, trying to bury him inside her.

Mike's hands reached for her tits; found them and kneaded the red hot flesh. His mind registered their size and fullness, but he wasn't conscious of it. He jammed his long tongue in her throbbing cunt and started slurping; lapping up the pussy-nectar that dribbled into his mouth, the tart flavor spurring him on. His tongue slipped between her asscheeks, licking the length of them. The serpentine tongue probed her asshole and entered it.

Marsha gasped and her head swam. A searing white light went off behind her eyes, blinding her. The shock, the excitement, the pleasure was almost too much to bear. She nearly fainted. She couldn't believe this was happening, nor could she believe the pleasure the asshole reaming was giving her. Wiggling backwards, she rubbed her ass in her father's face; panting with each flick of his piercing tongue against the sensitive walls of her asshole. Her mouth never left his cock and her hand never stopped pumping his hard shaft.

His tongue was back, twirling rapidly, over her pulsing clit. She was hardly aware of his long, slender finger slipping into her well lubricated ass; not until it started to twist around inside the sensitive cavity. Her body went rigid and her eyes overflowed with tears of ecstasy. Unable to control herself, she clamped her thighs around her father's head; the feel of his face between her legs made her explode instantly.

It was a gut-wrenching, volcanic eruption that spurted, lava-like cum-juice into Mike's waiting mouth. She ground her crotch down, hard, on his face, moaning with abandon as the rhythmic jolts of her orgasm flashed through her body. Every nerve tingled. Every pore seemed to burst with passion and pleasure. Her hands tore at the bedsheets, twisting them in violent spasms. She buried her face in his crotch, sucking his cock deep down her throat, making her gasp for air; the bristle-like hair scouring her hot-flushed cheeks.

Half of his heavy load shot directly down her throat, without her ever tasting it. Jerking her head up she let the spewing cock spray her face; nose, eyes, hair. Then she sucked the throbbing knob-head, milking it; reveling in the musky taste of his thick jism.

Marsha rubbed his dripping cockhead all over her face; her tongue licking the steely shaft, kissing the purple crown. She lapped at the slimy strands of cum dangling from the twitching cock and dribbling down her face; the pungent smell made her pussy twitch. Panting in total exhaustion, she heard his deep groan of satisfaction. Her head drooped and she pressed his turgid prick to her soft lips while his tongue gently laved her steaming cunt.

Time stood still. Seconds. Minutes. Marsha had no awareness of their passing. Her breathing slowed, but her desire remained. She wanted more! She wanted this cock in her demanding pussy. Her hands fondled Mike's spongy prick, rubbing it over the tips of her tits, coaxing it back to life. Her tongue tickled it and her mouth caressed it. It twitched and jumped, then, finally, responding to the her urgent demands, stood erect and hard.

Jumping up, her back still facing her groggy father, she squatted over his upright prong. Then, her mind whirling with lust, she lowered herself onto his long, slender shaft. She felt the hard tip push against her puffy cuntlips; part them and slide up her juicy cunt-channel.

"Ahhhhhhh!" she sighed. "Oh, yessss!" she said loudly as she started to hump herself on his rigid prick.

Mike's hard cock filled her up and shimmering waves of heat flooded her body. Her hips began a rapid twisting motion, forcing his cock deeper and deeper, until their pubic hairs tangled together as she squirmed her passion. Her body glistened with a thin sheen of perspiration as she began to furiously fuck herself on her father's beautiful prick.

Through eyes, slitted with passion, Mike gazed at the beautiful blonde woman who relentlessly rode his cock. Her pussy grasped at his shaft, painfully forcing his foreskin back and forth. Unbelievable pleasures rippled through his loins.

She leaned backwards, her arms straddling his humping body; her long blonde hair whipping across his face and chest. He reached up and grabbed her big, bouncing tits. He could feel his cock go deep, then back to the very brink of her hot pussy. His clouded mind tried to clear itself.

Something was not right.

A picture of his wife, Carol, came to his mind: blonde, well-formed, full tits, and rounded ass.

What was wrong?

He massaged the exquisite mounds, rolling the nipples between his fingers. They were bigger than Carol's! His mind registered the slender frame, the long, shapely legs, and the long blonde hair whipping from side to side. A cold sense of dread gripped his brain and his mind exploded in recognition.

"Marsha!"

"Oh, fuck me, Daddy, fuck me!"

Instantly awake, he tried to dislodge her from his cock, but her vise-like cunt clamped tightly around his throbbing shaft, holding him prisoner. His frantic movements made her fall beside him, but his prick couldn't escape.

They were sidesaddle now, her leg over his hips, hard against his ass. She grabbed his hand and forced the hot flesh of her tit into his palm.

"Ohhhhh, Daddy ... squeeze my tits! Fuck me, Daddy! Fuck!" Her voice was urgent and demanding. "Oh, it feels so good! Don't stop, Daddy!"

"Marsha! ... No! ... Can't do this ... wrong!"

Mike's mind reeled with the magnitude of his sin, but cock still humped her clasping pussy, his hips moving in automatic response to the sexual excitement generating from his daughter's body.

"Oh, God," he moaned, feeling his will to resist begin to melt. He was fucking his daughter! His big, beautiful daughter! God forgive me, his tortured brain screamed, it feels wonderful!

His resolve faded and his mind and body surrendered to Marsha's hot, demanding body.

"Oh, baby," he sobbed, "your pussy feels to good. So tight! Fuck me, babe! Fuck your daddy's hot cock!

Marsha grabbed his other hand and pressed it to her thick, hairy mound, making him feel his own prick in her cunt. His brain exploded with lust!

She rolled to her hands and knees, her powerful cunt muscles taking her father with her. Doggie-style, he fucked his passionate daughter with frenzied strokes.

"Yeah! Yeahhhhh! Oh, yes!" she cried as his rock-hard prick churned in her wet pussy, his hips smacking against her wiggling asscheeks. Through her wide-open legs she watched in rapt fascination as his long, slender cock pistoned in and out of her body. She dug her fingers into the bedsheets as the waves of pleasure engulfed her. Cool air assailed the hot walls of her inner cunt. Her father had pulled out of her. A sense of emptiness filled her mind.

"Oh, no! Please!" she moaned.

A sharp, sudden, pain snapped her eyes open. Mouth agape, face contorted, she felt his prick push its way past the tight ring of her puckered asshole. Marsha tried to scream but words wouldn't come. Slowly, the slender cockhead disappeared up her ass.

"Agggggghhhh! Oh, take it out ... Daddyyyy! ... it's too big!" she wailed.

She thrashed her head around and moaned loudly at the rough intrusion. Her toes curled and her hands tore at the sheets, bunching them up. Then, miraculously, the stinging pain began to subside. Her head drooped, and with a whoosh, a deep breath escaped her lips.

"Oh, hot ass! I love tight ass!"

Mike Bradford's gravely voice, choked with passion, came from another world.

"Com'on, baby! You love it! Just like your mother! She takes it all the way up ... loves cock in her ass! ... Just like your mother!"

The words and the slow stroke of his cock in her ass, turned Marsha on. Her mother liked to get fucked in the ass! And she was just like her mother! The thought excited her and each stroke of Mike's throbbing cock enflamed her passion and lust. Her body began to writhe, to undulate, and her ass churned as her father finally rammed his cock all the way in.

"Eeeeeech!" she yelped, but the pleasure of having a prick in her virgin ass was driving the pain away. Her pussy was creaming with erotic thoughts; her mind a camera and she saw herself being assfucked by her father. She felt totally wanton, totally perverted, and totally loved.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Carol's blonde cunt squished from the amount of cum- juice in it, hers and Peter's. She had lost count of the times her son had made her climax, but her body was sticky with the proof of his vitality and stamina. And he was fucking her again! This time doggie-style; his cock still hard, even after several cums, pounded her tender pussy, forcing her face into the soft pillows with each powerful thrust.

As the night wore on, they had not made love, they made war! Foreplay and preamble were forgotten. Carol had just wanted his big cock in her. She wanted it to stretch her; fill her demanding body and make her wallow in the joys of her sordid pleasures. This taboo, the breaking of this final barrier, was the most erotic thing in her lust-filled world; his spurting cock an affirmation of her chosen way of life.

Peter must have felt the same, she thought, only he was using her body to exorcise the years of frustrating fantasies about his sister, Marsha. He was relentless, almost ruthless in his fucking. Carol didn't care. Her forbidden passion and lust matched her son's; her need, just as powerful.




The Bradford Family Saga Part 3



As she told the family secret to him, she had watched his face change for surprise and awe, to passion and lust. His cock had stiffened, growing to steel-like hardness, and the moment she had finished he had thrown her down and savagely stuck his engorged prick all the way up her hot cunt making her cum instantly. Now, he roughly pushed her on her back and plunged his thick cock back in her sizzling cunt. Her nails and teeth dug into his flesh leaving their marks as they vented their perverted pleasures. His hands bit harshly into her upturned asscheeks, his hips frantically slapping against her butt. She reached behind him and cradled his balls, still heavy with cum, in her hands.

"Cum for me, Peter! Oh, my son, cum for me!" she cried, as her sweat-slick body humped back at him. His thrusts were longs and hard, and each one sucked her spongy cuntlips in and forced the breath from her body. He started to pump faster and Carol moaned as pain and pleasure mixed together.

"Oh, shit! ... Gotta cum, Mom ... can't hold back!"

"Cum in my mouth this time. . . let me taste it. Please cum in my mouth!"

His body stiffened and she scrambled to get up, but she wasn't fast enough. His voice choked as his control broke and reason left him.

"Aaaaaaaagggggg!" he growled. Cum splashed her face and body before she could get her hand around his erupting cock and direct it into her mouth. He was shooting by the cupful. Her mouth filled and she swallowed automatically, hardly tasting its thick, salty texture. She swallowed again and again, her tongue too busy to capture the slimy wads that streaked down her cheeks and dripped off the tips of her heaving tits.

Carol held Peter's ass tightly and continued to suck his cock while his body shook with uncontrollable spasms. Thick, white cum dribbled down her chin. Finally, his shaking began to subside. With weak legs, he collapsed on the bed, taking Carol with him.

"Oh, shit, that was good," he said with a heavy sigh.

"Uhmmmmmmmm, was it ever!" she said, rubbing the thick cum into her body, making her skin shine. Carol rolled over on her stomach, her tits resting on Peter's arm. Her fingers played with the hair on his chest.

"Oooh, my pussy's sore," she sighed. "A good sore, though." She paused. "Peter? What do you think about us? I mean, about the family?"

He shrugged. "I don't really know yet, but it blows my mind that I'm fucking my own mother."

"You're my adopted son," she corrected.

"Same difference," he said, smiling widely. "And she's just about the best piece of ass I've ever had, too." A few hours ago, he remembered, he had said the same thing about his aunt.

Playfully, Carol punched his arm. "You looked like you were going to say something," she said.

"Er, this family business? Eh, last night ... aunt Mary ... I mean, Mary ... well, we fucked! In the pool."

"That bitch!"

The words were harsh, but Peter could hear the smile in her voice. "You don't mind?" he asked.

"Oh, I should have known. She had the hots for you the second you stepped out of the cab." She giggled. "Who was better? Me or her?"

"Hell, I'll never tell. But I did think that was the wildest thing that ever happened, until tonight and you."

Peter hesitated. "Mom? ... Carol! I'm worried about Dad. I know you guys have your own thing going, but I just can't see myself walking up to him and saying, 'Hi Dad. Guess what? I've just fucked your wife.' I don't think he'd accept his son's cock in your pussy."

Carol thought about her husband and all the changes they had gone through. Would this really hurt him? Or would he accept it as a natural extension of their own secret life? She thought of all the times Mike had filmed her with a hot, young cock in her cunt, in her ass or mouth; his eyes glazed and his face flushed with built up lust and passion. He couldn't object to what had happened between her and his son, but she wondered. She fingered Peter's flaccid prick and it stirred. "Let me worry about your father," she said with forced conviction.

"Oh, Christ! I'm squishing like a wet dish rag. I didn't think anyone had that much juice in them. In that way you're just like your father!"

Peter laughed, feeling a flush of pride and excitement in his loins and, surprisingly, a glow of love that he hadn't detected before.

"I have to take a shower," Carol said.

"Com'on, I'll wash your back."

"Bullshit! That cock of yours is getting hard again. You'll drown me. Stay here and rest, and when I come out, I'll tell you why I think you won't have any trouble seducing Marsha. It's another secret."

Peter reddened, a bit embarrassed. In the heat of their passion he had almost forgotten about his lovely sister, his fantasy, and here was her mother reminding him, telling him to go out there and fuck her. It was an unbelievable world!

Carol smiled at him and walked to the bathroom, her smooth, rounded ass swaying. He stretched and yawned and his sore body protested. He ached in a hundred different places. His back had been raked by her nails and angry welts stood out on his shoulders, vivid reminders of her sharp teeth.

He couldn't remember when he felt better.

"Well! Look what we have here."

Peter gaped. Marsha stood in the doorway, her arm resting on the jam. She was naked!

* * *

Marsha smiled as her brother hastily threw a sheet over his nakedness. "It's a little late for that, Peter. I peeked. Where's Mom?"

He stiffened. She knows, he thought. Sheepishly, he nodded towards the bathroom. His tangled mind tried to find words to explain, but all he could do was gesture helplessly with his hands.

She smiled at his discomfort. "Poor baby! Don't worry. I think it's the greatest thing in the world, you and Mom. I hope it's that way for us."

Incredulous, he stared at his lovely sister. Was she really standing in the doorway, naked? Was she really saying the things he thought she was? That she knew about him and her mother; that it was okay, and that she wanted to fuck him?

"Marsha," he said, finally, "What the fuck is going on here?

Slowly, she walked to the bed, watching his eyes trail over her body, appraising it, comparing it to her mother's. The comparison would be favorable. She knew because her father had told her so. Her slender frame and large tits gave her a more sensuous appearance. A 'sex machine' her father had called her. She liked that description.

Peter eyed her up-right, large cherry-tipped tits. Her tiny waist flared into a perfect hipline and tapered to long, strong, shapely legs. A flat stomach ended at a surprisingly thick blonde mound. He noted the sway of her hips and the puffy lips of her cunt slit peeking through the tangled muff. She was even more beautiful than in his fantasies, and her long, blonde hair, in wild disarray, gave her a wanton look.

A real sex machine!

Despite his long night of passion, Peter felt his chest tighten and a warm heat flow to his loins. His prick stiffened and stood erect, the sheet tenting out above his body, like a miniature pyramid. Fluidly, she sat on the bed; her skin aglow and her eyes bright with excitement. The tips of her fingers grazed the top of his cock and it twitched violently.

"Oooooh, I didn't think it would come up so fast," she said seductively. "I'd have thought Mom would have fucked you out."

Peter gulped. He looked hastily at the bathroom door. He could hear the shower running. His hands ached to caress the big, beautiful tits and suck her hard nipples. Instead, he dug his hands into the bedsheet and bunched it, tightly, in his balled fists.

"Marsha," he repeated, "What the fuck's going on her?"

She ran her nails down his naked thigh and a shiver ran up his body. "Just the most natural thing in the world, Peter. I've come here to fuck you!" she said in a calm, sweet voice. "I've just finished fucking Daddy!" she giggled. "I think I fucked him out, too. And now, I'm going to fuck you. Just the way you fucked Mom."

"You what? he asked, when the words finally penetrated. "You fucked Dad? Really fucked him?" Peter gestured with his hands and Marsha smiled.

"Yup! I really fucked him! And he fucked me back. he even stuck his prick up my ass; told me I was just like Mom. Wasn't that sweet?" She ran her fingers up and down his thigh again and his cock stiffened to steel-like hardness.

Peter stared wide-eyed, unblinking, awed at the surprising change of events. He had screwed her mother! Marsha had screwed his father! And now she wanted to fuck him. His fantasy come true! His blood stirred and a strange excitement flowed through his body. His cock threatened to burst, but the latent voyeur held his mind captive.

"Then it's true! The family secret! I don't think I really believed it until just this minute. What happened? How did you do it?"

"Easy," she grinned excitedly, her fingers tracing the outline of his cock beneath the sheet. Her eyes glowed. Sharing this with Peter was more erotic than she could believe. She didn't think it was possible to become more aroused than she was, but her cunt was twitching maddeningly, gushing hot cream, and she knew that she was.

"I just walked in and started to suck his cock. After that, everything just naturally happened. Actually," she said, "I really came up here to fuck you, but you were already hard at work with Mom."

"That was an accident. I thought it was you and she thought she was dreaming." He shrugged. "By the time we realized what was going on it didn't seem to matter who we were."

Eyes flashing, Marsha smiled. "Daddy was very good. How about Mom?" she asked, nodding towards the bathroom.

"Wild!" he said with a wide grin. "Absolutely wild!"

Slowly, she pulled the sheet off, exposing her brother's thick hard-on.

"I want you, Peter! I've wanted you for so very long," she said, her voice choking with passion. Her hand moved softly over his erection, like a caress, teasing him unbearably. "Ooh, you do have a big, beautiful cock. I'll bet Mom really enjoyed this lovely monster."

His skin tingled as her hot hand enfolded his shaft.

"Marsha! I want you too. I've been dreaming about you for years, but Mom will be out in a second."

She giggled, sounding much like her mother. "Oh, Peter, I've waited so long to hear you say that, and don't you worry, my darling, Mom isn't going to be embarrassed by us fucking. Didn't she tell you about what we did last night? ... Oooooh, it's so big and hard! I love him!"

Marsha's fingers were kneading his cockflesh, sending red hot shivers pulsing to his feverish brain. He had trouble grasping her words.

"Wha ... what did ... do?" he mumbled.

Very slowly, Marsha began to stroke him up and down.

"Later," she said breathlessly. "I'll tell you everything you want to know, later. Now, I just want to play with your cock, Peter. It's even bigger now than I thought it would be. I'm so glad of that."

His mind was fuzzy. What had she and Carol done? She wasn't making sense to him. Suddenly, without warning, she sucked his cock deep into the warm, moist cavern of her oval mouth. He cried out loudly. Her tongue worked furiously, twisting and twirling around his hot shaft, her sharp teeth raking the tender underside. He gasped and grabbed fistfuls of her wild hair, forcing her head downward into his humping crotch.

"Oh, baby! Ahhhh! ... so fucking good! Your mouth's like a furnace!"

Marsha twisted her head from side to side and made little sucking sounds as she worked his thrusting prick in and out of her saliva-filled mouth. The musky, man-smell of his cock was sharp and tangy in her nostrils and she could feel the huge knob pulsate as Peter's thrusting hips made it hit the opening of her throat. Her tongue washed the heavy crown and was rewarded with a drop of salty pre-cum for her effort.

Peter tugged at her shoulders, pulling her slightly forward so he could reach her beautiful, heaving tits. The flesh felt hot and tingling against the palms of his hands. He squeezed them and rolled her stiff nipples between his thumb and finger. Her eyes slitted with passion. She opened her mouth to moan and a large droplet of saliva ran down his prick into the dark tangle of his pubic hair.

Her mind raced with elation. At long last, she was sucking her brother's cock! Feeling it deep in the warm recesses of her throat. She was tasting the sharp, salty flavor of his pleasure-giving tool. The tender skin of her face was being scoured by the abrasive tangle of thick hair at the base of his rampant cock. And she adored the feeling.

Marsha worked her hands feverishly over his strong body; her aroused sense of touch sending little electric jolts to her body as she cupped his heavy balls and kneaded the soft inner flesh of his hairy thighs. Gasping for breath, she rubbed his cock along the sides of her cheeks, leaving streaks of saliva in its wake.

A heavy tremor shook her body when Peter squeezed her hot, sensitive tits. They had become her trigger, and her sopping cunt oozed a hot stream of pussycream that leaked through the blonde jungle and down her trembling thigh.

"Oh, yesssss, Peter, yesssss! Play with my tits! Suck my nipples! Oh, I love it so much when you do that. Ugh!" she cried. "Ooooooh, fuck me, Peter, my love, my brother! Please fuck me!"

CHAPTER NINE

Carol wrapped a towel around her damp hair. She felt refreshed and invigorated; a new and complete woman. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror. I am a new woman, she thought; marvellously contented and sublimely happy. I have my family and my world is complete. She rubbed her hands over her face. There were no telltale signs that she had committed sins not mentioned in polite company: incest and adultery. Of course not, she mused, why should there be? Convention calls them sins, not those who are fulfilled by them. No one can tell, but if they could see behind her smile, they would see that she enjoyed herself beyond her wildest dreams and fantasies. Peter was a marvelous lover, with enormous staying power, and a beautiful, thick and agile cock. She had been thoroughly fucked and the darkside of her hidden passions completely satisfied.

What would the world think about her, she wondered? Envy? Condemnation? It didn't matter. This was her life and she had made her choice. For her, it was the right choice. She wondered how her husband and brother would react. Would they be jealous? Annoyed? After all, it had been just the four of them, at first. The decision to open up their relationship to others - to "swing" - had taken much discussion, even though they were all secretly aroused by the idea. Would the introduction of Peter and Marsha to their circle create a problem? Not for Mary, of course, she thought smiling at the image of her voluptuous sister perched on Peter's active prong. Mike and John? Well, she thought wickedly, there was one way to insure their acceptance. Marsha!

Wrapping a large bathtowel around her body, she giggled and opened the bathroom door. The muted voices came to her immediately and she froze in place.

"Ohhhhhh, Peter! Peter, my darling! ... Yesssss! Fuck me hard! Harder, Pete! ... Oh, God, I've waited so long! ... Feels so wonderful, so good ... I'm in heaven!"

"Baby! Baby! I love you so much! ... Wanted you all the time! ... Aggggh! Yeah! ... Cunt's so hot ... Oh, squeeze my prick! Yeahhhhh! ... like that!"

Carol licked her suddenly dry lips and shivered deliciously as she listened to her children, her lovers, Peter and Marsha, confess their desire and passion for each other. Her entire body flushed and a rosy glow, a loving warmth, flowed to her loins. With trembling hands, she slowly opened the door. They were facing away from her, asses moving in rhythm; Peter's thick shaft, slimy with fuckjuice, surrounded my Marsha's lustrous cunt-hair. She could see speckles of dewy pussycream glistening in the lovely blonde thatch.

Marsha's wanton hips drove upward, slamming against Peter's crotch as he drove his huge fuck-meat down into the boiling depths of her heated body.

Wide-eyed with love and wonder, she watched her son's powerful prick plunge in and out of her daughter's squishy cunt. Marsha's legs were wrapped tight around his muscular back, and her hand dug deeply into his asscheeks. Their shining bodies gleamed from passion and perspiration. The sight and sounds of their passion sent a wave of parental love through her, followed, almost immediately, by a feeling of erotic arousal, so strong that her legs began to tremble. Watching her lovely, blonde daughter's body writhe and shake was like viewing a film of herself; a younger version of her own secret passions, only this was real. She could put out her hand and touch them. She could smell the sex; the sheer animal vitality of their lust. Her breathing was ragged and warm moisture ran down her inner thigh - hot cunt-juice! Voyeuristic pleasure was making her cunt leak like an old roof.

Steadying herself against the door, she gaped as Peter drew his cock out of Marsha's grasping cunt, almost to the very tip, then, with a deep groan, plunged it back in, mercilessly. Her pussy contracted and her stomach tighten as her mind felt the fat shaft rasp along the tender walls of her own wet cunt.

Marsha screamed. "Aggggggggghhhhhhh! Cummin' ... cummin' ... oh, God, Peter ... I'm cummmmmin' ... fuck me! Harder! Yessssssss! ... Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!"

Carol stiffened as she watched Marsha go out of control, her body erupting in a killer orgasm, the culmination of years of fantasy and frustration. She shook and trembled, wildly; churning and bucking, her cunt frantically trying to hold her brother's exploding cock captive and make the moment last forever.

Marsha's violent contortions were too wild for Peter, and he was bucked off just as his throbbing prick started to spray his pent-up love juices. Globs of thick, white cum splattered all over her stomach and tits; splashing her face and hair. His pulsating cock seem to shoot on forever and cum ran in rivulets down the crevasses of her body. Peter's body sagged, then collapsed beside his sister's trembling and gasping form.

The towel dropped away as Carol ran to her daughter and gathered the still-shaking body in her arms. Marsha was slick with Peter's cum. "It's okay, baby. It's okay! I'm here. Easy, sweet-heart. Rest. I know what you're going through. I've been there! Just rest. Oh, baby, I'm so happy for you. So happy!"

Automatically, Marsha wrapped her arms around her mother. They were cheek to cheek, breast to breast, mound to mound. Peter's cum made their bodies slide against each other, transmitting the heat of their flesh. Rubbing up against Marsha's chest, Carol's nipples became hard and erect. The feel of flesh beneath her hands was wonderfully exotic. Hardly aware of it, they began to rub against each other, lewdly. Their lips found each other and tongues entwined. Loving hands caressed sensitive tit-flesh, and nimble fingers rolled nipples around like marbles.

His body sore and legs rubbery, Peter pushed himself up and stared in disbelief, his panting finally lessening. His cock, still half-hard, glistened with dripping cum and pussy- juice. Marsha's wild bouncing had pushed him to the other side of the bed, near their heads. He watched their passionate embrace with wonder, then put his cock directly above their faces - it just seemed the thing to do - and let a stray drop of cum-juice fall on Marsha's nose. It ran down to her lips, and he watched in amazement as their twisting tongues fought to lick it.

"Suck my dick," he said hoarsely, "both of you."

Carol, galvanized by the taste of Peter's heavy cum- cream, struck first, taking all of his semi-soft prick in her mouth. She clamped her lips tightly around the deflating cockshaft and began to suck greedily, her wild tongue swishing from side to side. Marsha, watching her mother's wet mouth slide up and down the veined shaft, reluctantly, contented herself with licking her brother's hairy balls, matting the thick hair against his skin with her saliva. Neither, let go of the other's warm tits; their hands roaming at will.




The Bradford Family Saga Part 3



The passing night had opened a Pandora's Box of sexual desire, and once started on their erotic path, they had a demanding lust to taste and feel it all.

"Ahhhh!" Peter moaned. "Yeah! That's it, Mom, suck! Lick my balls, Marsha ... do it, babe! Yeah! Yeah! Suck 'em good!"

Marsha had taken half of his ballsac in her mouth and was sucking gently on a testicle. Each sudden movement of her hot mouth sent a wild shiver up his spine, making his cock jerk and twitch in Carol's educated mouth; her powerful cheek muscles coaxing it back to steely dimensions. His body was alive with electric thrills.

Peter bent over and spread his mother's legs, dislodging Marsha's grip on her firm tits, baring her thick, blonde pussy-muff. He could easily see her puffy cunt-lips through the sticky tangle. They twinkled, pink and pretty.

"Oh, sweet pussy! I'm going to eat your cunt 'til you scream for mercy!"

Carol wiggled her hips in invitation. With his prick embedded in her mouth, Marsha still sucking his balls, Peter began to run his tongue, ever so gently, around the outer lips of her wet pussy. Like a flower, they parted and her rosy clit popped out, immediately becoming distended. He swiped at it with his warm tongue, then nibbled at it with sharp teeth.

Carol jumped and tried to yell, but his cock choked off the muted sound. She jumped even higher when Marsha's tongue joined her brother's. One gentle, one rough; Carol reveled in the double tongue-fucking. Her legs were pulled up and back, giving her lovers access to her entire body. The gentle tongue - Marsha's - laved her puckered asshole, bathing the dark opening with hot saliva. Peter's fat tongue - a little prick - darted in and out of her searing pussy, sliding over her sizzling clit as it dipped down into the boiling depths of her secret opening.

Chills and shivers attacked her body and her sensory system registered thrill after thrill as the two, snake-like tongues slithered up, over, in, and around her hot fuck holes. Her body was rapidly going out of control, and each new sensation slammed her gyrating hips against their faces as they fought to give her the cum of her life.

Carol squeezed Peter's ass as hard as she could, desperately holding on as her climax built to a screaming crescendo. Her hips twisted and turned, and humped greedily against the relentless, pleasure-giving tongues. She was strangling, gasping for breath. Spitting his cock out, she screamed her passion loudly.

"Aggggggg! Ughhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhh! Oh, Mar, stop! For Christ's sake, stop! ... I'm dying! Please, no more. No more! I can't take it! Oh, Peter ... hummmmmmm!" Her body hung in space for what seemed like an eternity, then softly melted into the mattress, spent and exhausted.

Cum-juice smeared his face and saliva dribbled down his chin. Panting, Peter stood up slowly. Marsha's head was now buried deep between her mother's spread thighs, her tongue softly tapering her off; cooling the inner walls of her fiery cunt, cleaning the sticky juices of her passion from the sides. Carol's lips gently held the knob of his twitching prick, her mouth too tired to suck on the glistening shaft. His cock make a plopping noise as he pulled it from his mother's tired mouth.

Dreamily, Carol spread her legs as wide as possible, giving her daughter complete access to her innermost being. The feeling was still there, still alive! Marsha's tongue was slowly bringing her down from a sexual high never experienced before. She had been eaten by her son and daughter - at the same time! And she had loved it!

Her breathing was returning to normal and she felt a slight chill as she became aware of the cool, early morning air on her perspiring body. They had fucked the night away, she though lazily.

"Good, wasn't it, Mom?"

"Oh, sweetheart, it was better than good. I thought my body was going to explode. I can't describe it. You'll have to experience it for yourself."

Marsha's smile broadened and her eyes flashed. "I was hoping you'd say that. When you feel up to it, I want to be next!"

Carol looked at Marsha in sudden excitement. This was more than she could have hoped for. Like mother, like daughter!

"Peter?" she asked.

Peter sat on the bed, eyes aglow. "I'll watch this time. I've always wanted to see two women eat each other out." He smiled at his sister. "This is what you two did last night, isn't it?"

Giggling, Marsha nodded, then her voice turned serious.

"When I came home I was looking for something, Pete, besides just fucking you. Now I've found it. I found out I'm just like Mom. I want it all ... all the Bradford men, and" - she looked lovingly at her mother - "all the Bradford women." She laughed and her eyes sparkled.

"Mom broke me in first, then she did you, and then we did each other. And now," she said, winking at her mother, "we're going to put on a show for you, aren't we?"

Carol leaned over and kissed her daughter lightly, a motherly kiss, a kiss of pride; then winked at Peter. "We sure are!" she said, her chest beginning to rise with excitement.

Smiling like a cat, Marsha sat against the headboard, drew her legs up and spread them wide apart, giving them a close-up view of her pink pussy, surrounded by a mat of thick, blonde hair. She fondled her large, round tits, making the nipples stand taut and erect; her eyes closing as the smoldering heat of her body began to flow.

Peter licked his lips and felt his cock stir. Shit, he thought in admiration, a real sex machine!

"Com'on, Mom, eat me!" Marsha purred. "Suck my juicy slit! Eat my dirty cunt!"

Trembling, her own lust beginning to simmer, Carol crawled between Marsha's open thighs; her fingertips gently running up and down the silky flesh. Softly, she kissed a rock-hard nipple.

Peter looked from one to the other, from mother to daughter. It was like looking at twins. It was the most erotic thing he had ever seen and he realized it could only happen this way; with them linked together as a loving and fucking family. His chest swelled with love and affection.

Giggling like a young girl, Carol said, "Oh, yes, baby! I'm gonna eat you! And I'm going to eat you ass, too; stick my tongue all the way up there. I don't know where you learned that, but I'm so glad you did."

Marsha threw her head back and hugged her mother close.

"Daddy taught me," she said laughing. "I sort of forgot to tell you, but last night, while you were fucking Peter I was fucking Daddy. And he screwed my ass and taught me about ass-rimming."

"What?! You did what?"

"Are you mad?" Marsha asked, suddenly and sincerely contrite.

Carol's mouth hung open, her eyes wide in amazement. "I can't believe this," she said, "Where is he? What's he doing? What does he feel about all this?"

Marsha shrugged. "When I left, he was sleeping like a baby. At first, he tried to push me off, but, I guess, my pussy got to him and he just started fucking me. Real good, too! He really didn't seem to mind afterwards. He said I was just like you."

"You just left him? Oh, the poor baby. He's probably going crazy trying to figure out how to tell me." She covered her face and laughed. "And to think, I was worried about how I was going to tell him about Peter. Oh, I can't wait to see the look on his face." Carol started to get up.

"Oh, no you don't," Peter said, pushing her close to Marsha, "Not before you two finish what you started. You guys promised me a show."

Mother and daughter looked from one another to Peter's straining cock, the tip, flared and angry looking. "Well," Marsha said smiling, "we did say we were going to put on a show."

"Yes, we did," Carol girlishly giggled. "And your tits are still quite warm."

"So's my cunt," Marsha whispered.

As if it were the most natural thing in the world, Carol dipped between Marsha's open legs and began to lick at her cunt and savor its musky aroma. Feather-like, her tongue darted in and out of her daughter creamy pussy; a dainty teasing touch that made the heat rise in Marsha's body, and made her tingle with pleasure.

Marsha smiled and through slitted eyes she watched her brother stroke his big fuck-pole to its full proportions and her own pleasure doubled as she watched. His lust was her pleasure; his pleasure, her passion. In the back of her mind she knew why the family had committed their lovemaking to film.

Peter became caught up in the voyeuristic pleasure of watching. He saw his sister's face contort, her brow crease, and her jaws clinch as each wave of ecstasy washed over her. He saw Carol's head bob rhythmically, and in his mind's eye he could see the tip of her tongue dip in and out Marsha's sopping cunt.

Carol's lovely ass stuck straight up in the air, two perfect half-moons, beckoning to him. His father had fucked that ass, his fevered brain told him. His father had fucked Marsha's lovely ass! His prick ached to fuck one of the asses that his father had fucked.

Carol felt the pressure on her cuntlips; the sudden parting. She felt the rough ridges of his prick rub the wall of her wet pussy. Her eyes clouded over and she moaned loudly into her daughter cunt as her son's cock filled her up. Marsha felt the extra weight against her body and opened her eyes. "Oh, yes, Peter, Yes! Fuck her cunt! Hard!" Marsha mumbled passionately as she rubbed Carol's back and tits, squeezing them roughly, urging her humping hips onward.

His cock sank to the base in Carol's sticky wetness, becoming drenched with her flowing juices. He leaned forward, grabbed his sister's round tits and kissed her hungrily, his tongue probing deep in her warm, searching mouth.

They were now completely linked. Joined by mouth, pussy and cock. Each was transported to another dimension, yet each was with the other. The past had caught up with the present. Fantasy had become reality.

Peter strained his legs; his rotating hips pressed tightly against his mother's butt, his twisting cock embedded all the way up her heated box. He could feel her developed cunt muscles, like tiny fingers, massage the shaft of his throbbing prick. Each squeeze of his cock sent blinding ripples of pleasure to his brain, urging his lust on. When he stuck his cock in Carol's puckered asshole, they all came in unison, and their passion, their love could be heard throughout the house. And they didn't care.

CHAPTER TEN

When Mike Bradford woke up he felt hungover. His head thundered and his body ached in places he didn't know it was possible to hurt in. Bleery-eyed, he looked around. Marsha was gone, but the imprint of her body remained.

So, it wasn't a dream, he thought. I actually fucked my own daughter! Adopted daughter! Splitting hairs seemed to take some of the sting out of the incestuous act. To his surprise, he really didn't feel any real, deep remorse. Marsha was an adult, and it was she who initiated it. But why? Was it possible she found out about their secret and was trying, in some insidious way, to punish them. Nonsense, he thought. How could she? But where the hell was Carol when all this was going on? And where was she now?

He staggered up, started to stretch and stopped short. Oh, shit, he thought, Carol knows! That must be it; somehow she found out, maybe she heard them, and she's pissed. That's why she isn't here. Angrily, he slapped his head and instantly regretted it.

"Hi, sleepy-head!"

Carol closed the door behind her. Mike noted that she was smiling. Maybe, he hoped, she didn't know.

The white, silk robe was loosely belted and the material clung to hills and valleys of her body. He knew she was naked beneath it.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked innocently.

Mike looked her in the eye. "You know, don't you?"

Laughing, she embraced him. "Oh, you poor dear! Yes, I know about you and Marsha. She told me."

"She told you?" he asked incredulously. "This is crazy! What the hell's gotten into her?"

"Besides you?" Carol giggled, then, seriously, she said, "I think you better sit down, Mike. This is probably going to blow you away."

Mike sat. Taking his hand she told her astonished husband the entire story; starting at the beginning with Marsha's confession about her lust for Peter and ending with their fantastic three-way, gang fuck. She told it quickly, leaving nothing out, but gaguing his reaction to each event; preparing to blunt any hint of jealously or anger. She was pleasantly surprised when there wasn't any, just a wide-eyed, dumbfounded look. When she finished, she waited for his final reaction; laughing when he flopped back on the bed, let out a deep sigh, and said, "Holy Shit!"

She threw herself across his naked body. "Does that mean you're not angry about Peter and me? I mean, I'm not the least bit jealous of you and Marsha. I hope you really enjoyed her as much as I did, and Peter. She's really something."

Mike threw up his hands in a gesture of helplessness.

"I'm not jealous ... well, I had a twinge," he admitted, "but I really got over that shit a long time ago. Actually, I'm kind of proud of my son. If half of what you said is true, he's a hellava stud."

"Take it from me, honey," Carol said, sitting up, "it's all true. I have the sore ass to prove it."

"Carol," he said, genuine concern in his voice, "is there something wrong with our blood? I mean, first us, and now the kids."

She caressed his cheek. "Honey, if we could come to the conclusion that convention was just so much man-made bullshit, don't you think our kids can, too?

"Just think how much more time they have. The sky's the limit for them; no excess baggage, no worrying about convention and restrictions, just taking their pleasure where they can find it.

"As long as they don't hurt anybody, how can anything they do; anything we've done, be bad. I really envy them. And I know I want them so much. Really want them."

Mike stood and folded his arms around her. "You're a wise woman, Mrs. Bradford." Then he chucked. "Does this mean what I think it means?"

"If you mean a weekend of pure, unadulterated sex. You're damn right, Mr. Bradford!" Carol said, leeringly.

"The kids are only home for a couple of days, and I, for one, intend to make the most of it. I really hope you slept well, 'cause I don't think you're going to get much more."

Laughing, they embraced warmly.

From the door she blew him a kiss. "Take a shower and hurry downstairs. I told Marsha to put the coffee on, and I'm going to make breakfast."

Mike smiled and stretched. He felt very much alive and surprisingly horny. It's amazing what a special woman can do for you, he thought. And Marsha was special. Looking at himself in the mirror, he saw teeth marks on his chest and long, vivid nail marks on his back. No wonder I hurt, he thought. An image of his wanton daughter leaped to his mind: her body wiggling in abandon, bouncing against the mattress, legs tight around his back, hands gripping his ass and balls. He saw her lust, her desperate desire for fulfillment; felt her tits under his hands, his juice-covered cock plunging into her silky wetness, stretching her cunt wide, her secretions lubricating his way. He could still feel the muscles of her cunt contract around his cockhead, squeezing it in a death grip as her climax ripped through her churning body; his own following seconds later, their cums mixing together. Mike shook himself to clear his head. The mental picture were vivid, and very real. Just thinking about last night made his breathing rapid and started his prick to rise.

He stepped into the shower and turned it to cold, the stinging water cooled his heated body. No, he thought to himself, gasping, that wasn't some sort of reverse punishment. That was just a very lusty woman who wanted to fuck! And fuck we did! And suck ... and, shit, he thought, what didn't we do? Laughing, he remembered screwing her up the ass, and telling her that she was just like her mother. Oh, shit, I hope she doesn't tell Carol that.

* * *



The Bradford Family Saga Part 4



Carol's facial expression changed from a furrowed grimace to one of delicious delight. Knowing Peter was video-taping them made her more animated, more expressive, her body movements deliberately lewd and open, giving the camera complete access to her pleasure from John's throbbing cock. She giggled involuntarily, remembering when Mike had once said that she was a better actress than most of the current female porn stars. It hadn't taken long to realize that she enjoyed displaying herself; having people get turned-on by watching her. She was a exhibitionist and a voyeur! It all added spice to the actual act, embellishing it, making each time uniquely different. She had no qualms about performing a 'brother, sister routine' for her son and daughter astonished eyes, in fact, she secretly welcomed it. It was a huge, instant turn-on!

Straddling her brother's lap, as he sat in a straight- back chair, she felt his strong hands pull her hips down into his crotch, grinding the base of his prick against her wet hole; his coarse cock-hair rubbing against the tender outer lips of her pussy. His cock wasn't the biggest in the room, but it was very thick and heavily ridged, almost rough, but after a year of having it spread the walls of her cunt wide she could easily suck it deep into her pussy without a second's hesitation. It was now an old and dear friend.

Noise was all around her; jumbled conversations really, but she couldn't fully focus in on them. She was involved, but detached; a portion of her mind reviewing the events of the morning. Despite her detachment, John's cock sent a shiver up her spine, making her grit her teeth. As her mind began to float, she added additional expression to her flushed face - for Peter's all-seeing camera.

Breakfast had turned into a farce before she could even serve the food! Mary had come in, rubbing her sleepy eyes. One look around; her brother's smirking face, Marsha and Peter's sheepish expressions and her glowing sister, Carol, told her everything she needed to know. Silently, she mouthed the words, "Which one?"

"Both!" Carol said aloud; her response drawing feigned expressions of embarrassment from her laughing children.

In mock shock, Mike threw up his hands. "I only diddled Marsha!"

"Oh, shut up, you silly ass!" Mary snapped at her brother, "You're lucky she gave you a sniff after the poor girl found out how you callously seduced your poor sister."

Everyone laughed as Mary embraced her nephew and niece. "Oh, you lucky guys! All of you! No regrets? Remorse? Recriminations?"

"None whatsoever," Marsha said, looking at her brother with love and tenderness.

"Only that we had to wait so long," Peter replied, "I've wanted her since I was thirteen."

"Thirteen! I wanted you when I was eight and you ten," Marsha said, and kissed him on the tip of his nose.

Mary hugged her brother and sister. "I'm so happy for you guys. Everything in the open! What a relief!

"See," she said, rambling on at Peter, "I said you should save it; you were going to have a busy weekend. Hey, come to think of it, you had a busy night! Both of you did!"

Mary grabbed Carol, almost making her spill the pancake batter she was mixing. "Holy shit! John! He's going to have a fit when he finds out."

"Why?" Mike asked, sounding manly and protective.

Carol laughed outloud, and Mary gave her bother an arched eyebrow look. "Hey, asshole! He was drooling over Marsha's ass and tits more than you were. At least I had a run at Peter, last night; he's only had wet dreams."

"Well, tough shit!"

"Oh, Aunt Mary," Marsha gushed, "let's goof on him before we tell him anything. I really want to see his reaction."

"Reaction, or erection?" Peter teased, surprised by his own candor and lack of jealousy. Marsha would fuck uncle John, he knew that, just as he would screw Aunt Mary again, but the fact didn't interfere with the way he felt; not for Marsha, or for his aunt, or his mother. He was truly amazed.

Before anyone could reply, John staggered in, his face reflecting his hungover condition. He plopped, heavily, into a chair, grunted and made a face as girlish giggles and unsympathetic snorts greeted him.

"Don't fuck with a dead man! Where's your pity?" he asked, mournfully.

Marsha winked at her fellow conspirators. "Let me get you some coffee, Uncle John."

Bending over to pour, Marsha, smiling innocently, deliberately let her robe fall away, giving John a panoramic view of her spectacular chest. Everyone gaffewed when he jumped up after spilling hot coffee in his lap.

"What the fuck ...?" he yelped, jigging up and down as his bare feet danced in the hot liquid spills.

Marsha slid the robe from her shoulders and let it slip to the floor. "Surprise!" she said, spreading her arms.

The laughter reached side-splitting proportions as John's expression went from gape, to gawk, to flushed excitement; the wet coffee stain spreading from chest, to crotch, to knees, giving his growing cock a brown tent cover.

The private joke was too much for them. So between chuckles and laughter, they all confessed their erotic activities; taking delight at John's wide-eyed expressions as they graphically recounted the events of the night. All John could say was, "Holy shit! And to think, I slept through the whole thing! Holy shit!"

Carol watched as everyone contributed to the tale, marveling at their openness and lack of embarrassment; it was like a rite of passage.

"Well, what happens now?" John asked, sheepishly looking at his lovely niece. Marsha had put her robe back on, more for comfort than modesty, but he could still discern the incredible contours of her lovely body. He was fighting a massive hard-on. Everyone started to speak at once. Peter, seeing Marsha's look of helplessness, silenced them with a ear-splitting shrill whistle.

"There goes my virgin ears," Mary tittered.

"Peter and I already know what we want," Marsha said, "I've showed him some of your great video, but we want to see the real thing; the brothers and sisters in action."

"What the hell does that mean?" Mike asked, annoyed.

Marsha ran and kissed him. "It means, dear Daddy, we want to see you fuck Aunt Mary! Up close and personal! And Mommy and Uncle John, too! Peter's going to film it."

"Whoa, whoa!" John growled in righteous indignation. "I'm with Mike on this. Our relationship isn't based on making X-rated movies, that's just some kinky side stuff."

"Oh, bull!" Carol snorted at her brother. "You guys just look for an excuse to point one of those things at us. Besides," she laughed, "this is a family reunion, and what would that be without a video of it."

"Yeah!" Mary agreed. "I think it would be kinda neat; one big happy group grope. I'm game!"

A sweat bead dribbled into her eye and Carol shook her head, bringing her back to the present. John's prodding cock was pounding urgently in her hot cunt, egged on by Mary's long wet tongue licking his damp balls and the base of his fat, protruding prick. He was cupping her tits, his fingers playing with her hard nipples. The slippery tongue slid up over his cock and attacked her exposed butt, making her jerk and shutter.

"Oh, yes, yes!" she moaned, tossing from side to side; stray ends of blonde hair matting against her damp forehead.

"Suck me, Mary! Oh, honey, it feels so good. I'm so gooey ... want it so bad." Grimacing, she grabbed her knees and pulled her legs up, exposing her fuzz-covered, pink asshole, forcing John's cock deeper into her aroused pussy. Mary's eager tongue immediately swirled around the tight, puckered opening, darting into it, sending Carol into a state of dizzy euphoria.

"Fuck me, Johnny!" she screamed. "Oooooh! Yes! Eat my dirty asshole!"

Marsha grabbed Peter's arm, pulling him off balance and making the video camera jiggled up and down. Her breathing was ragged in his ears and her eyes were bright with excite- ment as she pushed him and the camera closer to her Aunt's wiggling tongue. Her robe was open and he could see the hot flush of passion on her naked body. His cock twitched.

Marsha's eyes glowed as she watched her father fuck his sister from behind, the long, pleasure-giving prick that had so thrilled her, now, deeply embedded in Mary's squishing pussy. It glistened with her secretions. His strokes were long and powerful; each one pushing his grunting sister closer and closer to her husband's cunt-gripped cock, until her face was mashed against his swaying, sweaty, ballsac. The mixed aroma of cunt and cock had set her hungry tongue in motion.

Mesmerized, Marsha watched as the panting brothers gave their sisters the full measure of their love; a love that was real and tangible! She saw her mother's eyes cloud over and roll back as the pleasure of her John's cock and Mary's tongue flowed through her body. She was cumming and so was Uncle John, and so was her father and Aunt! Trembling, her enflamed body bowed as she stuck a second finger all the way up her hot, dripping cunt, wiggling it around, trying to fill the demanding needs of screaming flesh. Marsha fell to her hands and knees, her face inches away from her mother's squirming cunt.

"Fuck me, somebody, oh, fuck me!" she pleaded.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

From far away, Carol heard her daughter's plea for pleasure, the plaintive words reaching her strong maternal instincts. Her mind, slowly coming down from the fantastic sexual high her brother and sister's vigorous fucking and sucking had given her, cleared and she reacted immediately. She pushed herself off of John's deflating prick, heedless of the trickling cum-juice that ran, hotly, down her thigh. Her husband and sister-in-law lay prone, one on top of the other, panting heavily, their bodies still in sexual aftershock; their combined climaxes slowly receding. Nimbly, she stepped over them and, kneeling, embraced her daughter's shaking body.

"Put that fucking camera down, Peter, and get over here. Now!" Carol snapped, angrily. "Your sister needs you!"

Caught up in voyeuristic pleasure, his cock bone hard, Peter suddenly came to life. He quickly put the camera on a chair, pointing it at his naked mother and sister.

"Baby!" he cooed lovingly as he knelt in front of Marsha, his thick cock standing stiffly at attention, his heavy balls dangling lewdly below the massive shaft. Gently, his hands stoked her face and explored the hot, rounded globes of her big, firm tits. The heady aroma of his prick woke Marsha from a dull stupor. She took one look at Peter's oozing prick and she went down on her knees in front of him, swallowing his cock to the balls, burying her nose in his thick, jungle-like thatch. The salty cock was red-hot and harder than steel. It filled her mouth and stretched her lips wide. She would have sighed if she could. As she started to suck, she felt his balls swell and lift up in their sac. Peter moaned and wrapped his hands around her head.

"Yeah, baby, yeah! Suck that hard thing!" Peter said, and humped into Marsha's sucking mouth, rubbing the ridged underside of his prick against her tongue. His eyes rolled with pleasure and the muscles of his body began to tremble.

"She sure loves prick!" John said, hungrily eying his cocksucking niece, his hand working the foreskin of his prick back and forth. He had the beginnings of another hard erection. Mary lightly kissed his ballsac.

"Your turn will come, darling." she said softly, her own body starting to get itchy fuck sensations. "That beautiful pussy is going to need lots of loving."

Mike stared hotly at his beautiful daughter, his mouth dry and cottony. Casually, unthinking, his fingernails trailed over his sister's curves, lingering on her tits and the gentle swell of her belly. The flesh was hot and his cock started to grow again.

Marsha twirled her tongue around the underside of Peter's cock as he slipped in and out of her mouth. She could taste the salty pre-cum as it seeped out of his pisshole and rolled down her throat. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of having a sweaty, rock-hard cock stuff her willing mouth. Tingling sensations passed through her hot body and settled excitedly in her cunt making the puffy lips contract. Sizzling pussycream oozed out of her slit.

Her own loins beginning to simmer, Carol, lovingly, caressed Marsha's form, running her hands up and down the warm flesh, gently coaxing the awakened body to newer heights of passion. She ran her sticky finger between the cleft of Marsha's asscheeks, down into the tangled mesh of hair covering the grasping cunt. Slowly, her bright eyes glowing, she stuck her middle finger in the juicy hole, twisting it as it sank into the gushing depths. It was like entering a roaring furnace! Marsha squirmed, pushing her ass back against Carol's thrusting finger, the muscles of her body undulating under her smooth skin. Without warning, Carol rammed a second finger up her gaping cunt and started to jerk her off. A blinding flash of color erupted behind her closed eyes. She gasped and swallowed Peter's throbbing cock all the way to the very base.

"Hot!" John gasped. "Look at her hungry pussy sucking those fingers up!" He was gripping Mike's forearm, his fingers digging deep into the flesh. "Look how's she creaming!" he choked. Mary had his prick in her hand and was squeezing it. The pain was exquisite!

Mike stared, stupidly, at the dribbling pussycream on Marsha's thighs. Dumbly, he licked his lips and nodded his head slowly. "A real juicy bitch!" he said, almost to himself. Then he winced as Mary squeezed his cock, too.

"I've never eaten one juicier," Carol said looking over her shoulder, her voice passionate and full of pride.

"Christ!" John groaned. "Let me at that!"

He crawled on his hands and knees around behind Marsha, his hand jerking his prick up and down. Crouching low, he shoved his head between her thighs, his searching tongue licking up the juice that ran down her inner thighs.

"Nectar of the Gods!" he proclaimed.

As Marsha sucked Peter's cock, she turned her ass up, wiggling it in her uncle's face. John plunged his nose between her asscheeks, his hot tongue lapping at her pussy and Carol's sticky, fucking fingers. John licked up Marsha's asscrack and shoved his tongue into her almost virgin asshole, rimming her, tongue-fucking the brown, puckered hole.

"Shit, this is hot!" Mary panted, watching Peter and John fuck two of her niece's love holes. She gasped as Peter rammed his massive cock faster and faster in Marsha's mouth.

"What a girl!" She said enviously, her voice husky with renewed passion. Her body shaking with excitement she sucked Mike's cock into her mouth, feeling the long, slender prick slide deep. Consciously, she relaxed her throat muscles and the fat knob of his prick entered her throat. She had swallowed her brother's cock whole!

Mike jumped as Mary's hot lips encircled his engorged prick, her swishing tongue washing the pre-cum from his shaft. Grabbing bunches of her wild hair in his hands, he buried her face in his crotch, gasping as his cock slid into the seemingly bottomless depths of her throat.

"Mmmmmmmm, yeahhhh, baby, suck it!" His voice was strangled, almost a rasp as the heat of her mouth engulfed his brain. But he never took his burning eyes off Marsha and the erotic scene in front of him.

Marsha groaned, and sucked vigorously on Peter's squirming cock, her tongue swishing nonstop at the sensitive underside of his prick. Her uncle's tongue in her asshole and her mother's fingers in her cunt made her squirm and twitch, making her body blaze even hotter, making her mouth suck the throbbing fuckpole harder. Wantonly, she gazed at Peter. He looked as if he was going to pass out with pleasure. She felt his cock begin to pulse and quiver in her mouth.

"Marsha! I'm cummin' ... I'm cummin' ... eat my cum, baby ... eat it!" he wailed and rammed his cock to the hilt in Marsha's mouth. His body shuddered, his cock flexed and a steaming, hot stream of thick cum splashed against the back of her throat. He rammed his cock in her mouth again and again and again. Marsha gulped and swallowed rapidly, the hot, slimy globs of rich cum sliding down her throat. They were salty and sweet tasting and she delighted at each throb and spurt of his hot prick.

Overcome with lusty passion, Carol grabbed Peter's erupting cock and pulled it from her daughter's sucking mouth. Hot cum splashed over her face and dribbled down her cheek. Wildly, her tongue licked at the streaking jism as she rubbed his sticky cock over her face, smearing his cum, making her skin shine. She sucked Peter's throbbing cockhead into her moist mouth, cleaning the sticky crown with her swirling tongue. Together, she and her daughter, searched out every stray droplet of Peter's precious love juice, their tongues bathing the tacky gobs with saliva, savoring the taste of his last few love drops.

Peter's cock was squeaky clean when he finally pulled his sore prick away from them and staggered to the couch and collapsed on it. John slipped his tongue out of Marsha's asshole and hunkered down behind her, his hands kneading the smooth, round globes of her heart-shaped ass.

"I have to fuck your hot ass, babe. I have to!" he groaned in her ear.

Marsha shivered delightfully. "Mmmmmmm, oh, Uncle John, yes! Fuck my ass! Stick your cock in!" she said huskily, her mind and body still unsated.

Carol rubbed her hands over her tits and stomach, anointing her body with Peter's cum-juice, as she watched Marsha drop forward unto her hands and knees and turn up her saliva-soaked asshole so John would have a better angle of penetration. Her eyes widened as her brother's thick cock pressed against the twitching pucker-hole, forcing it wide. Marsha gasped loudly, dug her fingers into the heavy carpet pile and tossed her head around wildly. Slowly, her asshole opened and her uncle's fat, slug-like cock sank into her grasping asshole.

"Ughhhhhhh!" she cried, gritting her teeth; her body weathering the first flashes of pain. She felt her mother's comforting arms around her.

"Ahhhhhh!" John groaned. "What a fuckin' hot hole! I've never fucked such a hot asshole before, and so tight! She's even tighter than you were, sis."

"My brother!" Carol said softly to her panting daughter, "All class and compliments. Are you okay, honey? Johnny has a really thick cock."

Marsha nodded slowly between pants, a small smile on her lips. "Just feel ... so weak ... stuffed," she said softly.

"The best is yet to come, baby."

As John humped his niece's shapely ass, moaning deliriously with each stroke of his cock, Carol sat in front of Marsha, her oozing pussy inches away from her daughter's gaping mouth.

"Suck my pussy slow and easy, honey," Carol ordered, "then stick your finger up your cunt! You're gonna feel like you've died and went to heaven!"

Dreamily, Marsha stuck the middle finger of her right hand up her cunt, slowing finger-fucking herself as she ass- fucked her uncle's cock. Her mother's fingers pulled the lips of her cunt apart, revealing her hot clit and the pink lined walls of her glistening pussy. Like a squirming snake, her tongue explored her mother's hot, blonde-fur covered snatch.

Sighing, Carol threw her head back and gave up her body to the wonderful feelings of Marsha's tongue. "Ooooooo," she cooed, "you're a wonderful cunt-licker, honey!"

"I had a good teacher," Marsha mumbled, her voice muffled by Carol's pussyhairs; her squirming index finger deep in the sweet tasting pussy. She ran her fingers in and out; first one, then the other. Well juiced, she slid her forefinger back into Carol's hot, dripping cunt then shoved her index finger far up her mother's pretty asshole.

Carol screamed and her body snapped taut as Marsha's wild fingers twisted roughly through her fuck holes making her shake and shiver with delicious mind-searing sensations.




The Bradford Family Saga Part 4



"I'm in ass-fucker's heaven!" John roared. His trembling hands gripped Marsha's asscheeks and his hips swung back and forth, driving his fat, rigid cock up her asshole again and again.

"I swear," he huffed, "fucking your ass, girl, is almost as good as screwing any other woman's pussy. Hot damn, you've got a tight one!"

"Fuck my pussy, Uncle John!" Marsha ordered. Her body bordering on violent eruption craved a hard cock in her cunt.

"Fuck it good!" she demanded.

As John pulled his cock from Marsha's ass, Mike grabbed his shoulder and pushed him away. "My turn!" he snapped.

Marsha thrust her ass higher exposing her glistening blonde cunt. With a groan, her father pushed the bulbous head of his cock between her pussylips, and with an easy stab, buried his entire cock in his daughter pulsating cunt.

"Ahhhhh!" he moaned in satisfaction. "Hot, tight pussy!" He fucked rapidly, grunting with each plunge of his long cock, his belly smacking up against Marsha's ass.

Marsha squealed, driving her tongue deeper into her mother's creamy cunt, wiggling her ass lewdly as her father screwed her pussy.

His body shaking with lust, and frustration, John squeezed his cock, hard, working the skin back and forth. It throbbed painfully. Frantically, he looked around and spied his sister's, dreamy-eyed face. Her mouth was open and she was breathing rapidly. Lunging forward, he grabbed her head and speared his thick prick into her gaping mouth, forcing her lips wide, driving his ass-flavored cock to the very edge of her throat. Carol gagged and wrinkled her nose at the noxious odor. She tried to pull back, but John had her head pinned and was pumping his prick lustily into her mouth. Catching her breath, she ran her tongue around the meaty shaft, savoring its different taste, the aroma no longer as bad. My cunt, she thought. Marsha's ass! Mike's cock in her cunt! John's prick in her cunt! She could see them joined together; attached by their smoldering loins; mouth and cock, pussy and prick, mouth and cunt; almost the entire family! All that was missing was Peter's cock up her ass!

The sudden erotic flash send a stream of hot pussycream to her cunt, that rolled over Marsha's lapping tongue and down her waiting throat. Carol caressed her brother's ponderous balls, rolling them in their sac; then, her cravings aroused, she began to suck his thick cock in deep earnest.

"I guess that leaves only us, lover," Mary said. She stood in front of Peter, legs wide and hands on hips; the black splash of cunt-hair spread out in a thick triangle between her legs, directly in front of his eyes. Peter gazed at her voluptuous body; the high jutting tits and smooth, rounded thighs. His semi-erect cock twitched as it remembered the hot passion of her tight pussy. Hungrily, he licked his dry lips and put the video camera down.

Her lips were warm and her mouth tasted surprisingly salty. His hands enclosed her tits and the nipples hardened as the heat of his palms warmed her sensitive skin. Mary held his shoulders and straddled him; one leg on the floor, the other, high up, on the bolster of the sofa. His now rock hard cock stood poised directly beneath her gaping hole. He could see the fat, puffy lips peeking deliciously through the jungle of cunt-hair. Slowly, she lowered her body onto his twitching prong, shifting her hips as she slid down the hot length of his meaty shaft, seating his cock firmly in her cunt.

"Oooooooo," she mewed seductively. "Eight inches of beautiful cock! Oh, how I love it!"

"Nine inches!" he said wickedly. "And it's all for you sweet Aunt of mine. All for you!"

"Oh, yes, Peter! Yes! Give it all to me! I want it! Fuck me, Peter, fuck me!" She hissed at him, as her knees flexed and her stuffed cunt traveled the entire length of his rampant cock. She threw her head back and, rapidly, began to piston her hips up and down, plunging his throbbing prick into her incredibly wet, lusting pussy; her body suddenly shimmying, as sharp jolts of electricity pulsed through her.

Mary squirmed as the blinding surge of pleasure washed over her enflamed body, stoking the hot fires of her loins again. Pussyjuice gushed out of her, running like hot sap down her thighs. Peter's hard cock was thrilling her, driving her demanding body to greater and greater exertion. She felt the tightness in her thighs, the beginning of leg cramps, but she ignored it and with machine-like precision, forced them to drive her wanton hips up and down his massive fucking tool.

Carol was on the verge of losing control. She felt an icy tingle on her hot skin and the start of a shivering spasm, the forewarning of a violent orgasm. John's cock stuffed her mouth and stretched her lips wide. She could feel the pain all the way up her jaw line. Marsha's tongue and corkscrewing fingers refused to give her a respite. Relentless, and without mercy, they drove her body to the very edge of an uncharted, bottomless abyss. Dimly, through barely focused eyes, she was aware of Mary's naked ass straddling her son, her hips pounding on Peter's huge cock, but she wasn't sure if she was dreaming or not. But she could feel Marsha's face mash against her cunt as Mike drove his cock in and out of the squirming hole. They were going to cum! All of them!

Marsha's free hand dug into the soft flesh of her tender thighs; Carol opened her mouth to scream and a tidal wave of cum flooded her throat.

"Awwwww, yeahhhh!" John bellowed. "Suck! Suck my cock!"

"Cummmmmmm' ... " Marsha wailed.

Carol closed her eyes, swallowed a mouthful of frothy cum, and exploded between her legs as Marsha's tongue and thrusting fingers broke the dam. Like as vise, her legs clamped shut, imprisoning Marsha's wiggling face; the tremors of her daughter's erupting body surging through her legs, to her own squirming, gushing cunt.

"I'm cumming!" Mike grunted. "Jesus Christ! Ahhhhh!"

Shaking out of control, his body riding Marsha's trembling form, Mike grabbed her magnificent tits and used them, brutally, to lunge his hosing cock deeper into his daughter's bursting cunt.

Carol was delirious. The potent aroma of hot cum filled her senses. She choked as the cum flooded her throat and overflowed her mouth. She gulped as best she could, but cum escaped her mouth, ran down her chin and dripped on her heaving tits. Like a vacuum cleaner, she sucked and licked and swallowed; all the time smashing her shaking hips against Marsha's twisting face.

Breaking free, Marsha screamed her lust and passion as her head turned, frantically, from side to side. Severe tremors rocked her body as her father's cock pulsed madly in her battered and juicy cunt. She could feel the overflowing cum leak out of her pussy and ooze down her trembling inner legs. Like runners, at the end of a marathon, they each sagged down to the floor and collapsed, totally exhausted. Only Carol still had the strength to pick her head up when she heard Mary scream.

"Aggggggggghhhhhhhh!!!"

Mary was gagging; mouth agape, and her head lolled like a cork in water. She looked like she was either in great pain or great pleasure. Peter had flipped his Aunt to the floor, rolled her over onto all fours, and stabbed his big tool all the way up her exposed asshole. The pleasure-pain had almost make her faint.

"Oooooooo, yesssss!" she purred, shaking with excitement as Peter's cock started to stroke up her hot rear hole.

"Hell, what's happening?" John asked to no one in particular, his head back and his eyes still closed.

Marsha giggled. "Peter's just repaying the compliment you gave my ass before, uncle John," she said. "And lucky Aunt Mary is enjoying the hell out of it." Even tired, her voice had a tinge of envy to it.

Mary squirmed and her eyes glazed with pleasure as her sweaty nephew humped her tight butt-hole; each powerful lunge sending scorching sensations rippling through her body, down to her dripping cunt. Pussyjuice bubbled from her cunt smearing Peter's swinging balls as they banged against her throbbing pussy. She dug her nails into the carpet pile and humped back at him, her ass mashing against his crotch in a hot push, pull; her body demanding release.

"Fuck me!" she squealed. "Ooooh, fuck my ass, Peter!!"

"I'm gonna cum!" Peter panted. "Fuck my cock! FUCK!"

They screamed in unison as their climaxes exploded in their sweaty, lust-filled bodies.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Carol wasn't sure how long she had slept, but she knew she had dozed off. They all had; each entwined with another, until everyone provided a head rest or a soft shoulder. Now awake, she felt slightly cramped and sore. But it was a good sore; a warm, languid feeling - something to be enjoyed while it lasted. She turned her head slowly. Marsha's head was resting on her shoulder, her body protectively covered by Peter's. Mike lay next to her, his shoulder touching hers; Mary's head in his lap. John's limp body partially covered Mary's sleeping form, his hand draped, casually, over her recently ravished ass.

Carol took a deep breath. The pungent smell of sex was all around her, like a heady perfume. She longed to stretch, but that was impossible. She would have woken everyone up, and as much as she loved these wonderful people, she treasured this solitary moment. Resting her head against the wall, she let her mind drift backwards, remembering the last few hours, beginning with Mary's violent ass-fucking orgasm; how she bucked wildly against Peter's pounding cock, how he dug his fingers into her tender ass-flesh, holding her steady so he could ram his prick in, all the way to the base. Mary had screamed, pounded the floor with her fists, tore at the carpet, then she arched up, her perky ass impaled on Peter's massive spike, shuddered and collapsed in a heap, like a rag doll. Carol was sure it had been the most intense cum Mary had ever had from a butt-fuck. The glint of leaking pussyjuice could be seen flowing freely from her bubbling cunt, down her shaking thigh and into the crevice of her ass.

Carol remembered her own reaction: tight chest, heavy breathing, hot-cold sensations, and a new gush of cunt lube filling her pussy. Her asshole had twitched involuntarily, as she remembered Peter's beautiful cock stretching her own back hole wide, forcing its way past the protective outer ring, and filling her body with wild surges of perverted excitement. Trembling, she had crawled over to Mary's supine body, somehow hoping to share the magic she knew her sister- was feeling. Tenderly, she kissed Mary's lips; the taste of John's cum still in her mouth. Slowly, she felt the spark of response, the slight jerk of Mary's tongue sliding into her moist warmth and the gentle, feminine fingers on her sensitive tits. She had moaned, softly, as the heat of their bodies mingled, like a gentle mating of sand and sea. Warm pussycream had leaked from her cunt and was slowly trailing down her leg.

The gentle hands were suddenly replaced by stronger, rougher, more demanding ones; squeezing, kneading, roughly playing with her tit-flesh. The hot flash of searing heat in her cunt was almost immediate. She had opened her mouth to gasp, only to have it filled with hard, hot cock. Blinking her eyes, she recognized her husband's long, lovely cock and the tang of Marsha's cuntjuices still clinging to warm flesh. Her tongue started to wash the heavy knob and she had savored the man/woman taste as her saliva trickled back down her throat. Glancing backwards, she saw her brother's excited face. His cock was hard, too, and pushing upright against the crack of her ass; his hands squeezing and pulling on her hot tits. She remembered how the warm glow of rising heat enfolded her body, how her eyes misted and closed in wonder as the sensations - the wonderful, exciting, totally taboo sensations - flowed outward from her cunt to all parts of her body and the sudden jab of hard cockmeat filling her wet, tender pussy bringing her out of the dreamlike stupor, back to the sharp reality of a hot, driving prick.

Her eyes had moved around, clearing; taking in the scene. She was sucking Peter's semi-erect prick! And she was straddling Mike's thrusting hips! It was his wonderful cock in her pussy. Where was Mary? And when did this all happen? she wondered, idly, as her tongue and saliva worked around her son's prick. The taste of Mary's cunt and ass were still on it, and the vicarious thrill of their hot fuck session filled her mind blocking out the idle question. It was like tongue-fucking Mary's puckered hole! Now she had tasted both of them! Marsha and Mary. Her body fired at the erotic thrill of it, adding to the fuck sensations generated by Mike and Peter's steely cocks, and John's roaming hands.

"Shit!" Peter groaned. "What a mouth! I'm fucking hard again! Momma, you can raise the dead!"

She had tried to smile at the compliment, but Peter's hands held her head tight against the base of his crotch; the full length of his huge cock deep in her mouth. Soon, the tingling in her cunt was driving her mad. She raised her hips up and leaned forward, giving Mike more room to hump into her volcano-like pussy, and Peter, better access to her demanding mouth.

John spread her asscheeks wide, exposing her pink asshole, and blonde covered pussy stuffed with cock.

"Christ, that's a hellava sight! I should get the camera and put this on film."

"No," Marsha said, kneeling down beside him. Her face was flushed with a new rise of excitement. "Put your cock in her ass, uncle John. Give her a three-way! She deserves it."

Carol remembered feeling a hot rush of pleasure when she heard her daughter's words. She had wiggled her pretty ass, obscenely, in consent. Pulling Peter's cock from her mouth, she hissed, "Oh, yes, Johnny, fuck my ass! Hard! Fill me up with cocks; all of you. I need it so bad."

"Yeah," Mike chorused, in agreement, "screw her ass good, Johnny. We'll give her a ride she'll never forget."

His voice had been raspy, almost a choke. Playing with her hard nipples, and watching her mouth slide, relentlessly, back and forth over Peter's thick shaft had enflamed his mind and stiffened his cock to an iron hardness that was almost painful. He had reached up and pulled her rear cheeks even further apart, stretching them to the very limits, giving John the ultimate target. Carol remembered holding on to Peter's cock, steadying herself in preparation for John's first ass-fuck lunge; the muscles of her butt contracting automatically in hot anticipation. She had felt like she was drowning in a sea of erotic pleasure.

"I'm going to put his cock in your ass, Mom," Marsha had said, her voice tight with excitement, "just the way Aunt Mary did that beautiful dildo. I'm going to push it in all the way."

Shaking with electric sensations, Carol had sensed, rather than seen, Marsha take hold of her uncle's thick cock; lovingly run her mouth and tongue over the meaty shaft, lubricating it with her thick saliva, and placing the bulbous head at the entryway of her tight rear end. She had gasped and her body stiffened as the huge cockhead pressed against the neuter ring of her asshole.

She remembered screaming into Peter's crotch as John's cock forced its way up her almost dry back-hole. She remembered the flashing lights before her eyes, the wild, contorted movements of her impaled body; flinging her head from side to side, her powerful jaws almost clamping down on Peter's precious cock.

"Com'on, baby sister," John wailed, "Com'on, you can do it! Suck that cock up your ass! You know you love it!"

She remembered Marsha's face close to hers, her hands roaming over her body, her voice hoarse with excitement.

"He's all the way up your ass, Mom! Can you feel him? Can you? ... You have three great cocks in you! God, you look wonderful!" she had hissed.

She had finally nodded, after gaining small control of her heaving chest. Her eyes had remained closed, unfocused; clouded by a hot mist, filled with vibrant colors of blinding passion. Her cunt was secreting bubbling pussycream like an open water tap, and each thrust of the two rampart cocks, rubbing up against each other, through the thin, separating, wall, sent another steamy stream cascading down her fiery love tunnel. Carol could not remember ever feeling so full, so excited, so high! Never had three cocks given her so much pleasure. Every pore of her body was vibrantly alive; throbbing with anticipated wonder and delight. She thrilled as her brother's balls banged against her husband's up- thrusting cock, and she gagged delightedly as Peter's cockhead bounced off her tonsils, at the very entrance to her throat!

Now, she remembered Peter adjusting his fuck stoke into her unmoving mouth; Marsha licking the slimy shaft as it slid by; his loud demands. She remembered how they began to fuck her in unison, each one timing their stroke to meet the frantic movements of her hips and face.

"Cum all over her!" she heard Marsha say, "Wash her body in cum!"

The words were like spurs to a race horse. She had heard the hard, loud grunting, felt the quickening of their movements; the sudden, violent, acceleration as they shoved their hard cocks into every fuck opening of her screaming body. She was on the verge of a blissful death; her cunt ready to explode in a violent tidal wave of hot, blinding pleasure.

"Cum! Cum all over me!" she had cried, grabbing Peter's ready prick and harshly fisting the steely fuckmeat. Her tongue flicked, wetly, at the angry purple head and her hand flashed up and down the hot shaft.

Lovingly, she looked up at Peter's contorted face; he was going to cum!

"Yes, baby, yes! Give me your cum!" Her voice had been a wail of anguish, then her flaming body erupted.

Carol was jolted from her reverie when Marsha stirred, restlessly, against her shoulder. She had been panting loudly, and almost woke her daughter up. She bit her lip. The pain helped to control her rapid breathing and heaving chest. She tried to recapture the memory of that impossible climax, but the first few moments escaped her. Her cum had been so incredibly intense, so violent, she had blanked out. She did remember their hot cum splashing against her face, her stomach, her ass and back. She remembered her trembling body and shaking arms as she rubbed Peter's spurting cockhead all over her face. The wild, spraying, cum juice shot into her hair and dribbling down her scalp, mixing with the other hot streams sliding down her nose and cheeks.

Mike had pulled his throbbing cock out at the very last minute. His jism had erupted like a searing volcano, each explosion smacking her stomach and tits like little hammers, washing her body with love, then sliding down her belly and straining legs. Lots of his love juice puddled around their mingled loin hairs. She remembered, in wonderment, how his cock had slapped against her stomach, twitching maddeningly, as his juice poured out.

Her brother had waited one second too long. Wailing, loudly, his first shuddering explosion had flooded her asshole with a huge, hot, wave of erupting passion. It crashed against the tender inner walls and receded with a rush, flowing unchecked out of her asshole as it following John's escaping cock. His cock had shot huge spurts of cum all over until Marsha grabbed it and directed the pulsating prick downward. Cum juice splashed in her hair, on her back and ass, and ran down her body in what seem like a million tiny streams of released passion. The images were vague and surreal, but the sensations were real and vivid, and sprang to life immediately.

Another piece was missing, because the next thing she remembered was Marsha and Mary licking her body with eager tongues, rubbing the silky wads of love juice into her skin; sticking their tongues into the secrets of her ass and her cunt and her mouth, extracting the musky taste of prick from each opening, searching for any tiny stray droplet of sweet cum.




The Bradford Family Saga Part 4



"Penny for your thoughts," Marsha said quietly.

"Oh, Hi, honey. Did I wake you?"

Marsha shook her head. "No, I don't think so. I've been watching your face for a couple of minutes. I think I know what you were dreaming about." There was a wicked gleam in her eye. "You were reliving it, weren't you?"

Carol just smiled.

"God, that was hot! Is it always that way?"

"No. Just at special times, like then. I've had three- ways before," she said nonchalantly, "but this time was something else."

"Because it was family?"

Carol looked at her lovely daughter, an image of her younger self, smiled and kissed her lightly. "Yes," she said, "because it was family."

* * *

Mr. and Mrs. Goodman sat on their veranda and listen to the tinkle of laughter coming over the wall from the Bradford pool area.

"They certainly seem to be enjoying their reunion. That really was a nice party, wasn't it, Arnold? They're such a lovely family."

"Yes, it was, Mildred. You don't see that kind of togetherness anymore, not much, anyway. Makes me wish our kids were more like theirs."

"You're right, dear, they do seem to have something special." Mrs. Goodman paused, then turned to her husband.

"I wonder what their secret is?"