The Chronicles of Valen Ch. 02
Valen naps lightly for a while but wakes so he starts singing softly to himself to pass the time. He’s humming part of the tune when he hears her speak for the first time.
Her voice is husky with sleep, “Who are you? Where am I? More importantly, where are my clothes?”
He chuckles, “So you finally decided to wake up. Nathyrra, get the Seer. It seems our guest is awake.”
Nathyrra leaps off the couch and runs to fetch the Seer, leaving the two of them alone.
She raises her head off the pillow and looks puzzled for a moment before she closes her eyes. She all but orders him, “Speak again.”
Still holding her hand, he looks at her perplexed, “What about?”
A slight frown crosses her face, “Tell me what you had for lunch or what you did yesterday. It matters not, just as long as you speak.”
He sighs, grimacing slightly, “I am not overly fond of what the drow consider to be food, so I’d rather not discuss that with you. As for what I did yesterday, I polished my armor and drilled the troops. I understand your predicament, though, waking to find your self in a strange place. This is the Seer’s temple and you are safe here.”
Her eyes fly open in surprise and she releases his hand, “It is you! You’re the one who helped me! I had thought it was, but you spoke so quickly, I couldn’t be sure. I owe you greatly and I don’t even know your name. You have been more than kind to me and for that you have my thanks. Since you have sat here, keeping vigil while I wandered, and no one else is about to make introductions, what is your name?”
Valen seems to recall his manners and despite his rather disheveled state, he manages to make a rather graceful and courtly bow and kisses her hand. She blushes lightly at the attention.
He straightens and smiles at her, “I am Valen Shadowbreath and if you’ll excuse me, I think we should both be more properly attired. However, before I go, I have a message for you from your goddess. She said that if you want your armor to call it and it will come, what ever that means. As for your blades…”
She raises her head, almost seeming to sniff the air and smiles broadly. His eyes widen in surprise as she extends her free hand in a gripping gesture and the sheathed blade leaps into it. She drops the first into her lap and repeats the performance with the second.
Setting the blades aside, she looks at him levelly “I will show you what she meant, if you wish, about calling my armor.”
She scoots to the far edge of the bed, still wrapped in the bed covers, and stands with her back to him holds out her arms. A spear of white light envelops her and then she drops the bed covers. He expects to see her naked, but instead she is fully armored and has her helm under her arm.
She spins to face him grinning “I can tell my goddess is displeased. Gah! The smell…..:”
He looks at her puzzled “Are you unwell?”
She laughs again “No…it’s…well…it’s just that it’s not clean. It’s still rather sticky and it…reeks. It usually returns clean or at least, cleaner than this. I don’t suppose you have a waterfall handy, because I think I need to go stand under it. For a couple of hours or so…”
He laughs, for a moment at her antics.
She bends over and picks up the bed covers she was previously wrapped in. She un-summons her armor and wraps herself back in the bed clothes. She scrambles back up on the bed and waves a hand at a distant corner of the room where it materializes again.
She grins at him again “Be thankful it’s far enough away that you can’t smell it. Speaking of thankful, I notice that I am clean and I suppose I have you to thank for that as well. If you can find something for me to wear, I’d love to see what it is that you find so distasteful about drow cuisine. I’m starved.”
He bows again and says “If you feel up to it, I’d gladly return and take you to get something to eat.”
She nods, “I would truly appreciate it.”
Nathyrra returns with the Seer, “Morrighu, this is the Seer, our healer and the head priestess of Eilistraee here.”
The Seer smiles at her, “Ah, good you’re awake. I’m going to try something and you can tell me if makes you feel worse or better.” She casts a minor healing spell. “How is that?”
The paladin all but purrs, “That was not at all unpleasant.” Her eyes narrow and she continues angrily, “That damned Halaster and his geas. I think he’s un-knit about half of my scars.”
She stops suddenly and her head tilts while she listens to something no one else can hear, “My goddess is highly amused by the one she refers to as ‘my defender’.”
The paladin looks around the room and Valen is blushing mightily.
She grins at him, “I might have known it was you,” and then she collapses into howling laughter.
Nathyrra and the Seer look at her strangely, so she motions them over and whispers something. The Seer looks highly amused and Nathyrra joins her laughter.
~*~
Valen takes this as his cue to retreat. He’s off to his quarters to change. The ragged pants he’s wearing are not suitable to escort an attractive female to the latrine much less to dinner.
He also wants to make sure that they’ve done a proper job of cleaning and oiling his armor. None of these drow seem to really understand how to do the job right. Most of them pawn the job off on some slave who has no more of idea of how to care for armor than they do how to fly.
There is no sense in letting good armor get rusty for want of care. Rusty armor is weak armor and no one wants their life to depend on weak armor. “Particularly in the Underdark,” he growls to himself.
This is a lesson he learned well during in time in the Abyss. He’ll have some time while the Seer and Nathyrra tend her wounds.
He thinks to himself, “Ye gods, she’s beautiful. It’s hard to believe that she’s our prophesied savior. I wonder where she’s from. She’s covered in tattoos, but the color seems to go well with her hair.”
He considers them for a moment and decides that he likes the tattoos. He noticed that they seem to accentuate her curves, flowing and looping over her skin gracefully. He chuckles to himself at the thought of tracing out her tattoos with his tongue.
His thoughts seem to wander off, without him consciously realizing it. He grins widely as he considers which other parts of her might also be tattooed. Since tattooed skin is more sensitive, his thoughts trail off in a pleasantly lecherous direction.
On his way back to his quarters to change, he passes several drow in the hall. Most of them either duck into rooms or flatten themselves against the wall, hoping to avoid his notice. The reddish tinge in his eyes has, until now, always been due to temper.
No drow in his right mind wants to provoke, even accidentally, an already angry tiefling, and specifically not this tiefling. Most all of them have been the object of his wrath on the training ground or in battle at least once. Not a single one of them ever wishes to repeat the experience. What they have all failed to notice is that, for the first time, he’s also smiling.
~*~
Morrighu notices his tail disappearing through the door and gives her self over to her laughter. She nudges Nathyrra in time for the other to turn and see the door closing. Nathyrra laughs heartily at the thought of Valen running from anything, much less this female paladin.
The Seer waits for their mirth to wind down and when they are calmer, she proceeds. “I need to finish healing you and we must speak.”
Morrighu waits patiently while a few more spells are cast and most of her injuries disappear. She looks up at the Seer and purrs contentedly.
Once it’s obvious that the Seer is done, the paladin sighs before ticking things off on her fingers, “Very well, Seer, down to business. Have you a smith here? I need someone to clean my armor and make some new under-padding. I could use to new boots, as well, if there’s anything suitable here to be had. I need to restock my supplies, and if you could tell me what needs doing, I shall be about my goddess’ works. Thanks to the Halasters, I must kill the Valsharess in order to break the geas. I’m going to need a guide and scout. If you have no objections, I’d like for that to be Nathyrra. She certainly seems to know her way around.”
The Seer glances at Nathyrra for confirmation and the assassin bobs her head happily.
Morrighu flashes a quick smile, before continuing, “Since I expect there will be quite a lot of combat, I’d like to ask your permission to take Valen with me as well.”
The Seer frowns at her, “What makes you think he capable in this regard?”
Morrighu ignores the stifled snort from Nathyrra as she continues, “I suspect that he is, judging by the calluses on his hands.”
The Seer nods, “You requests are not unreasonable. If Valen is agreeable, then I have no objection. Is there anything else?”
Morrighu nods, “Mostly, I need information. How big is her army? Where is it camped? How are they equipped? How quickly can the move? Who are her allies? Can we turn them or strip them from her? How good are the defenses here? Are there maps I can see? What are our resources like? How large is our army? How well trained are they? What are our resources here? Who’s in charge?”
The Seer smiles at her. “These are many of the questions we intend to answer for you. We are given to understand by your goddess that you are something…relatively unique.”
The paladin grins at the Seer. “Of course I am. I tell you truthfully, Seer, that if her army numbers less than 100,000 that your Valsharess is walking dead and doesn’t know it yet. I intend to teach her this fact.”
Nathyrra snorts derisively, “Such bravado from one who couldn’t even hold her head up a few hours ago.”
All mirth disappears from the paladin and her eyes take up a distinct yellow glow “No bravado involved, Nathyrra. I can assure you, assassin, that while you pick off your solitary targets, I have taken armies of that size by myself on more than one occasion. If you do not believe me, I will call the other Three and let you ask them. The army of the King Horkaizah was largest I’ve taken single-handedly at 175,000 men. I trapped them in narrow mountain pass and drowned them all. The value of knowing your enemy lies in being able to anticipate their movements and prepare for them. In the case of King Horkaizah, I angered him until he lost his reason and he marched his troops into a narrow valley that I had trapped. Once I was able to block at both ends, I merely flooded the valley. It is now called Lake Horkaizah in his posthumous honor. Too many people think war is about glory and honor. It is not. You, assassin, should understand this. War is about killing some people to protect other people.”
The Seer touches her forehead briefly in blessing, “Imloth will have maps and scouting reports for you. Valen will have other information you need. Nathyrra, will you tell her of the Valsharess’ allies?”
Nathyrra nods, and starts telling her about beholders, undead, the illithids and some of the drow houses who have allied themselves with the Valsharess.
When she’s done, Morrighu looks at her and grins, “Excellent. I only have a couple of more questions for you. First, can you take me to these places?”
Nathyrra nods, “Of course. But…what’s your other question?”
Morrighu’s grin widens, “Do you have anything I can wear? I’m absolutely starving and Valen’s very generously offered to buy me dinner. The only thing I have to wear is my armor and it smells like its spent the last three weeks marinating in a chamber pot. I really must get it to a smith.”
Nathyrra grins back, “I think I have just thing. You really must let me help you do something with your hair. I’ve never seen him blush before.”
Morrighu giggles, “He seems to blush quite a bit. I think perhaps that’s why my goddess asked me who would defend him.”
Nathyrra runs off to get the dress while Morrighu begins pawing through her pack looking for her hair bush and some combs to hold it in place.
~*~
Imloth paces idly in the hallway waiting for Valen at Nathyrra’s request. Nathyrra, knowing Valen as she does, has asked Imloth to intercept him. The sharp edges and sharp points on his armor are both dangerous and intimidating, even though the tiefling regards it as nothing more than “what he wears.” To her knowledge, it is his favored attire for every occasion, including formal dress.
Imloth sees Valen in his full armor striding back toward the women’s quarters and stops him “Going to see the paladin, Valen?”
Valen appears taken aback slightly “Well, yes, I was…I mean she said…she asked…”
He looks at Imloth and finishes lamely, “We’re supposed to go to dinner.”
Imloth shakes his head, “Nathyrra told me to stop you and tell you to wear something “more formal and less pokey” as she put it, than your armor. It seems Morrighu’s armor needs a good cleaning and she’d like to you to show her where the smith is. She’s borrowed a dress from Nathyrra and she sent word that she’d like to speak with you.”
Valen looks puzzled, “More formal and less pokey? What’s that supposed to mean?”
Imloth rolls his eyes “Ye gods, are you dense man?”
Imloth starts tapping all the sharp points on his armor, “How in the world are you supposed to escort a lady like that? You’ll not only destroy the dress she’s borrowed but she’ll be needing a healer in the bargain. Not the way to get a woman’s attention, though I suppose you might intimidate her into submitting.”
Valen sighs, shrugs, and goes back to his room.
As he walks off, Imloth mutters under his breath, “Like you do the rest of the troops.”
Valen changes quickly into the only other set of garments he owns, his practice leathers, and returns to Imloth.
Imloth looks him over critically, “Well, it’s not more formal but it’s definitely less pokey. You don’t own anything else, do you?”
Valen shakes his head and Imloth rolls his eyes, “Ye gods, man! You need to get out more often. Well, if that’s all you have, I suppose it’ll have to do. Go wait in the central hall. She’ll be out soon.”
~*~
Valen goes to the central hall and begins to pace idly, his tail lashing impatiently as he waits for the paladin to put in an appearance. It’s certainly a welcome distraction from drills and polishing armor.
Going to dinner with her should be interesting, since he’s quite curious about the surface of Toril. The prime is as strange to a planar as the planes are to a clueless prime.
Soon, Morrighu appears and his first reaction is to throw a cloak around her and he blushes as the thought as well as the implications. He hardly knows her and it is certainly not his place to be jealous when other men look at her.
The demon whispers to him that it might become his place, should he wish it. He considers this for a long moment as he observes her while she scans the crowd in the central hall.
She has certainly given him a warmer reception than any of the drow and seems genuinely pleased to see him even now, though she hardly knows him. He shrugs the thought away since paladins don’t take up with tieflings.
Every eye is on her and quiet rolls though the room as everyone turns to see. Surfacers are rare enough to be worthy of comment, but she is truly lovely. The dress that Nathyrra has loaned her fits a bit too well, in his estimation.
He shrugs mentally thinking that Nathyrra is smaller than the paladin, which might explain the fit of the dress. He notes how well the material flows over her contours and sighs heavily.
Watching her for just one more moment, he decides that the dress makes him wish to let his hands flow over her contours as well. He takes a deep breath and his tail begins to lash faster, more like a hunting cat about to strike.
He smiles at her as she holds out a hand to him in a gesture to join her.
~*~
Morrighu spots him and notes his intense blue eyes taking her in. She turns slightly to show herself to more advantage and smiles to herself as he sucks in a sharp breath, riveted as he is to her movements.
That was precisely the effect she was looking for. She doesn’t know much about him other than the fact that he’s both handsome and kind. He’s obviously not afraid of her or in awe of her, which is an auspicious beginning.
While she isn’t wild about the studded leather he’s wearing, she does like how it shows off his wide shoulders. She also decides that he looks like he’d be nice to kiss.
She wonders to herself if he kisses with same intensity that his gaze holds. The thought of that makes her a bit weak in the knees but makes her smile none the less. She holds out a hand to him and he moves swiftly to her side.
~*~
He takes her hand and bows to her formally in greeting.
When he straightens, she looks up at him and asks “I don’t want to get Nathyrra’s dress dirty. Would you mind carrying my armor for me? We wrapped it in a sheet. I thought we might drop it off before we eat.”
Still off-balance, he nods to her and takes up the package before offering her his arm. She curtseys deeply for him, which allows him a nice look at her cleavage.
This sets him even more off balance and starts another flush of crimson in his cheeks.
She looks up at him with those smoldering green eyes, “Thank you, Valen.”
She takes his free arm and not knowing what else to do, he starts leading her toward Rizolvir’s forge.
As they walk, he catches the occasional whiff of some perfume he cannot identify from her, something spicy and woodsy, not the usual flowery stuff he’s used to. It seems exotic, to him, and very enticing.
He can feel that she’s moved closer to him and put her head on his shoulder while they walk. This too, is extremely enticing to him. He smiles just a bit to himself and stands a bit straighter.
No one ever pays him this sort of attention and he’s reveling in it a bit. Imloth, Holoth and some of the others have been the subject of camp gossip because of their female companions.
Now it seems that it will be his turn. The camp is already rife with gossip about the Seer’s prophesied savior having arrived. He notices that nearly everyone they pass pauses to look at her.
He stops and looks down at her “I meant to tell you that you really are quite lovely in that dress,” and then he notices that he can see nearly to her navel. He blushes furiously and looks up.
She looks up and smiles at him “Do you think? It’s quite a bit more daring than I’d choose on my own. But women here dress differently than what I’m used to.”
Valen grins at her impishly “I’m actually glad to hear it. I was beginning to have visions of having to beat every male in the Underdark off you. Had Halaster seen you like this, he might not have teleported you here after all.”
She grins back at him “Well, if the dress is that effective, perhaps I won’t need my armor after all. I can lure them with my siren call, and you can bash them with your flail. It will be a most effective partnership.”
Valen laughs, “I would dearly love to stand here and banter with you, but we should get your armor to Rizolvir’s forge before he shuts down for the night.”
Morrighu frowns at him, “How can you tell?”
He looks at her puzzled, “What do you mean?”
She gestures around her, “How can you tell when it’s night?”
Understanding dawns in his face, “Most places have a heat clock, but this is a bit…remote for that. Here, the watch candles tell you. The red and white bands are day and the red and black bands are night. The candles are everywhere.”
She nods, “I suppose being this far underground you have do something.”
He considers this for a moment and decides that he should probably talk to her about the Underdark since she seems to know so little about it.
He leads her to Rizolvir’s forge and sets her package on the counter. Rizolvir, who has been tempering a new blade, straightens and grins at the pair. Valen watches as Rizolvir gives Morrighu a curious look while wiping his hands on his apron.
“Damn you,’ she hissed, damn you. I missed you last night.” Her voice was thick with emotion, her movements frantic. She grabbed his erection through his pants and squeezed.
“Ow! Why the hell are you mad at me? You’re the one who had to go to that shitty recital.” He kissed 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, hoarsely.
“Fuck Corporate duty. I want you! Is the door locked?”
“I don’t care, just fuck me. Here! Now! On the desk.” Lust caused her to lose all sense of convention and the possibility of discovery actually added to her excitement.
He pushed her back against the desk until she was forced to put her arms back to keep her balance, then grabbed her legs and pulled them up. Lucy Parsons wore no panties. Her thick, black thatch sparkled with her flowing cunt juices. With a practiced hand, he unzipped his pants, releasing his engorged cock, and with a sure stroke, parted her cuntlips and roughly sank his throbbing shaft in her hot, cum-slick box.
The shock of penetration sucked the breath from her lungs. Her mouth was open, as to yell, but no sound came. Her eyes glazed and her body convulsed as the first spasm of orgasm rushed over her body. Lucy’s arms went around his neck, her legs around his ass, in a desperate attempt to force his cock in as deep as possible. She felt the desk bite sharply into her asscheeks.
“Aaaaag… Oh, Christ, yes, yes… fuck me, Peter,” she hissed in his ear, “stick it deep!”
Peter obliged and began moving his thick, cum slick cock in and out of his boss with a purpose. 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 pleasure as the extra meat filled her up. “Oh, yes,” she panted, “Give me your cock! I’m dying for it.”
“Com’on, Boss Lady, fuck me back, Com’on, fuck!”
“Peter… Peter… oh, Christ, I’m gonna cum again. I can’t hold back.”
“Cum for me, baby, cum for me.”
“Yes, yes, yesssssssss… ughhhhhhhhh! Cummin’! Cummmmmmmmm.” Her voice was a rasp.
Peter dug his fingers into her ass, unable to hold back the violent eruption in his balls. His hot jism spurted deep into Lucy’s sopping pussy, mixing with her own juices; overflowing her cunt. She could feel its hot path down her asscrack. Peter’s legs trembled, his body heaved with sexual aftershock, as he tried to control his breath. Slowly, he began to pull his still rigid dick from her steaming cunt. Her legs fell to the floor heavily.
“Oh, God, that was so good,” she said. Sliding to her knees she began licking his cock clean, heedless of her own dripping pussy; cum juice spotting her expensive rug. Her tongue swirled around his deflating member, 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 cockhead.
“I guess this means that I have the day off,” Peter laughed.
As he left Lucy Parson’s office, her secretary smiled a knowing smile at him. “I guess I’ll be seeing more of you, won’t I, Mr. Brady?” Peter smiled his best smile at her.
“That’s my intention, darlin’. Yes sir, that’s my intention.”
**************
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 Jan Brady, this was frosting on the cake. She handled the convertible easily, confidently. The wind whipped her blonde ponytail around, and she brushed a stray wisp of hair from her full lips. The morning sun warmed her face and body. Like a kid out of school, she revelled in it, impulsively unziping her denim jacket and front-zipped denim skirt. She wore no bra.
The racing wind hardened the nipples on her full 37 inch breasts; flipped her jacket open, exposing her left tit. A horn blast made her laugh. Eat your heart out, she thought, with a smile. Jan was proud of her superstructure, the best of all the Brady girls, and her slender frame served to accent them even more. They were full, firm, and big nippled; perfectly round and jutting and she worked 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 lovers’ caress, and she opened her legs wider to receive it. She tugged the skirt’s zipper further up and was rewarded with a hot sunbeam directly on her snatch. She allowed the heat to flow through her body, to penetrate her being. Her hand idly played with the blonde pubic hair protruding from her minuscule panty. She felt on top of the world - for a change. Another horn blasted the air. She heard the squeal of tires and she giggled.
Jan was glad to be going home. She needed something, but wasn’t sure what it was. She just knew that whatever it was, she would find it among her brothers and sisters. An unnamed feeling had been gnawing at her for days, ever since her Mother had told her about the anniversary reunion. If she was honest with herself, she could have put a name to the feeling; the need. But convention refused to allow her to consciously form the thought. Only her subconscious, and her fantasies gave her a hint of what she really wanted. But she didn’t acknowledge her subconscious, and her fantasies she kept to herself.
She pressed the accelerator down and the car surged forward. Jan Brady was in a hurry.
***
When the young Flight Attendant bent over to assist an elderly passenger, her skirt tightened across her ass. It was a very nice ass, Greg Brady thought, as he watched from two rows back. It had a familiar look about it; an ass that he knew - and liked. He had this almost uncontrollable urge to reach out and pat it; so much so that he deliberately crossed his arms to avoid a reflex action. He watched the well shaped derriere sway from side to side. The more he looked, the more he was sure he knew that ass from somewhere, but Flight Attendants weren’t a part of his background. Nurses - well, that was another story - he knew intimately.
Where did he know that ass from?
The Flight Attendant stood up and straightened her skirt out, effectively hiding the heart shaped mounds. But Greg had her contours memorized. He searched his mind, taking in the girl’s long legs as he did. Impulsively, he rang the CALL button. Young, mid-twenties; blonde - on the darker side, good smile, good teeth, small, but well shaped bust.
Marcia!
Damn, he thought, Marcia! Always at the edge of his thoughts. Before he could pursue the psychological aspects of this, the Flight Attendant interrupted him. “Yes, Doctor, can I get you something?” It was amazing how quickly they picked up on titles.
“Er…yes, another Scotch, please.”
“Right away, Doctor,” she said, giving Greg her best airline smile. He watched her walk away. Was it his imagination, or was the sway of her hips more pronounced? Marcia walked like that. Heat filled his loins, like it always did when he thought about his sister. She was part of a fantasy world that he kept safely hidden away; only to be examined in the dark of the night. He knew he shouldn’t feel this way; knew that he should have outgrown this fixation, but he couldn’t put it down. It was unfinished business.
He watched the Flight Attendant bring his drink, and crossed his legs to hide his growing erection. He felt silly. Marcia was married. He hadn’t seen her in almost three years. And the last time he had been really close to her had been back in high school. God, how long ago was that? Yet, here he was, years and bocou women later, still getting aroused over something that never was. Maybe, he thought, seeing her now will, finally, dispel this silly urge. Maybe. But he wasn’t really sure.
***
The arrival of the Brady kids was a well orchestrated drill conducted by Carol Brady. Moments after Jan pulled into the long, circular driveway, Cindy and Bobby Brady arrived from college. Cindy had managed to reduce her weekend requirements to three suitcases and a large floppy handbag.
Carol had arranged to have Marcia, Peter, and Greg arrive at the airport within minutes of each other, instructing them to meet in the baggage claim area. But even the best laid plans can not cope with a delayed flight. In this case, two delayed flights; Greg’s and Peter’s. Marcia arrived on schedule and, finding her brothers delayed, took a cab home. The delay gave the Brady Bunch the opportunity to have two reunions, one more boisterous than the other. If Mike or Carol Brady noticed the intensity of the greeting between their four oldest children, they didn’t let on; but it didn’t go totally unnoticed. Cindy and Bobby saw it and gave each other a knowing look.
Actually, the senior Bradys were rather busy admiring the physical qualities of their opposite offspring, and so wrapped up in trying to touch various pieces of anatomies; that certain peculiarities went unseen.
“Boy,” Jan Brady said, “this place hasn’t changed a bit.” The girls were up in their former bedroom, finally alone together.
“We did have some doings here, didn’t we? Marcia said.
“Yeah,” Cindy answered, “A lot of sticky finger action.”
“Cindy! Don’t be crude.”
“Crude? Me? Hell, I’m not the one who almost gave Greg a tonsillectomy just now, big sister.”
Jan laughed.
“You too, Jan. I thought you’d climb in Peter’s pants, you were so close. I saw you grind your hips.”
“I did not!”
“Bull! I’ll bet your panties are drenched, Jan. Yours too, Marcia.”
“What the hell are you, Cindy, some moralist, or something?” Jan stood in front of her sister; infuriated and somewhat embarrassed. She hadn’t meant for anyone to see her grind herself against Peter’s body. She didn’t want to share the look on Peter’s face with anyone, either.
Cindy shook her blonde head. “No way. I just think it’s a shame the way you guys drool over each other and don’t do anything about it.”
“What’s that suppose to mean? Marcia asked. She was almost as mad as her sister.
“Com’on. You two have had the hots for those guys since you were kids. Do something about it.”
“And what would that be, Miss Smartass?”
“Get real, Marcia. Fuck them! That’s what you want!”
“Cindy! They’re our brothers!”
Cindy looked at her sisters and shook her head sadly. “Only on paper. I certainly didn’t let that stop me.”
“What’s that suppose to mean?” Jan asked, sensing what Cindy would answer.
“I learned from your mistakes. Bobby and I have been fucking for years… and I’ve never regretted it for a second. He’s what I wanted, and he’s what I got. What do you guys have?”
“You and Bobby? You’ve been fucking?
“Yup. For years.”
The room was suddenly quiet as the sisters looked at each other intently, and somewhat abashed.
Out of the mouth of babes, Jan thought.
“Well,” Marcia stared slowly, “it’s never been a secret that I’ve been… fond of Greg. But you’re talking about incest.”
“Real incest is when you fuck a blood relative, not an adopted one.”
“Just suppose… you’re right, Cindy,” Jan said, “just how do you think this grand seduction would take place?”
Cindy threw up her hands. “That’s your problem, guys. Think of something. It’s going to be a long weekend.”
Jan and Marcia Brady looked at each other for a long time, each with their own thoughts, each with the same thought. Carol Brady had to call her daughters twice before they answered her.
***
It was almost 11PM when Greg came back from the airport. Peter was in the kitchen eating a chicken leg when he came in. “Did they get out alright?” he asked.
“Yeah. Just the usual airport bullshit. Mom looked on the verge of tears, and the old man was still so pissed he couldn’t talk properly.”
“Can you blame them? That bastard really has his nerve?
“Well, that’s the way of the business world. It’s over, let’s forget it.”
Greg went to the refrigerator and got a beer. His brother, Bobby, walked in, hair tousled, and wearing only a pair of boxer shorts.
“Hey,” he said, “What happened?”
“Shit, Bobby, go put some clothes on. What if one of the girls walked in,” Peter said.
“Listen to the Reverend Mr. Brady. Nothing here the girls haven’t seen before. How’d it go, Greg?”
Greg really didn’t want to repeat himself. The truth was that he was almost as mad as his father. John Scivone, president of Scivone Construction, had called earlier in the evening and demanded that Mike Brady fly to Sacremento to oversee a design problem with the new office plaza he was building. Mike Brady had been the principle architect of the project. To make matters worse, Scivone had demanded that Carol Brady come too, since it was her Real Estate firm that had recommended Mike for the job.
The telephone conversation between the Bradys and Scivone had been loud and heated, but in the end Scivone had his way. The senior Bradys would spend their 20th anniversary at a construction site, almost a thousand miles away from their family, and the reunion they had planned.
Everytime Greg remembered the tears in his Mother’s eyes he got mad. That bastard, Scivone, had ruined all their plans. He hoped his fucking building fell on his head.
Cindy and Marcia entered the kitchen together. Marcia wore a white silk robe that accented her lush body, but effective hid everything from sight. Cindy wore a babydoll set of pajamas and her nipples were clearly visible through the thin material. Bobby said to Peter, “I notice you didn’t tell Cindy to go and put on more clothes.”
To change the subject and forestall additional questions, Greg gave a quick answer to the questions he knew they were going to ask. As he finished, Jan walked in.
“Wow,” Peter said, “Lord love a duck, look at you!”
Jan smiled sweetly. She had dressed just for such a reaction. The black silk and lace peignoir set was designed to show more than it hid.
“I’ll second that motion,” Greg said. His cock had twitched when he saw her.
Jan turned around slowly, giving them all a good view.
“Thank you, kind sirs. Just something I threw on.”
Peter turned quickly to the refrigerator. He didn’t want anyone to see the bulge in his pants. “Anyone want something to eat?” he asked.
“Yes. Bring it out,” Marcia said, “We might as well eat something.” Scivone’s call had made a shambles of dinner too.
“Nothing for me,” Bobby said, standing up from the kitchen table, “I’m going to go browse.”
“My God, Bobby!” Marcia exclaimed. She could feel her face becoming flushed.
“Look at the well dressed MBA man,” Jan said. Cindy just laughed. Even in boxer shorts the outline of his heavy prick was visible.
“Gets to you, doesn’t it; my manly features?”
Surprised, Jan stared, her eyes wide. Marcia was a bright shade of red but couldn’t stop looking, and not sure if she wanted to. Walking out the door, Bobby whipped his shorts down and mooned his brothers and sisters. The ensuing laughter dissolved the nervous tension that had been building up. When he finally stopped laughing, Greg joined Peter and the girls at the table. It was safer.
“You know, Pete. We are two very unlucky guys. The best looking girls in the State turn out to be out sisters. How unlucky can you get?”
“Hear, hear,” Peter said.
Marcia leaned over and patted Greg’s cheek. The movement opened her robe and gave him a spectacular view of her tits. He could just make out the top of her exposed nipples. He had to squeeze his legs together.
“You poor baby. Only your young nurses to keep the lonely doctor company.”
“Ouch. Cheap shot, Marcia.”
And they all laughed. Jan leaned her body closer to Peter, and rested her head on his shoulder. “With the anniversary party shot to hell,” she said, “what are we going to do this weekend?”
“I don’t know about you guys,” Cindy said, leaning forward on her elbows “but I know what I’m going to do.” She smiled mysteriously. Marcia slapped her arm forcing her to sit upright. Bending forward, her healthy chest had been almost completely exposed to her brothers’ wide-eyed view. Peter slouched in his chair, put his head in his hand and groaned. Cindy giggled.
Bobby burst into the room. “Hey!” he yelled. “You gotta see this. It’ll blow your mind. Com’on, com’on. Move.”
“What the hell’s with you, Bob?”
“Pete, move your ass. This is the greatest. You have to see it. Com’on, all of you.” He tore out of the kitchen as quickly as he had come in. The others shrugged their shoulders, got up and followed. He was in the living room, setting up the VCR.
“What the hell are we going to do? Watch an old movie?” Peter asked, “Did you find the original Dracula or something?”
Bobby turned around. He was really hyped. “Just settle down folks,” he said, waving his arms, “Let me set the stage here. This is gonna knock your socks off.” He had their undivided attention. “Mike Brady married Carol Cummings, right? Right!” he answered himself. “John Cummings, Mom’s brother, married Mary Brady, Dad’s sister. Big family joke, right? Well, we all know how close the Brady’s are, right?”
“Oh, get on with it,” Marcia said.
“Well, I’m about to show you just how close the Brady family really is. Ladies and Gentlemen, I present, The Brady’s and their Friends. Turn out the lights, Cindy,” he said.
Bobby turned and punched the PLAY button. The tape in the VCR whirred and the TV screen flickered and flared. The picture suddenly came into focus.
“Hey, that’s Mom and Dad’s bedroom,” Marcia said.
“Quiet, watch this,” Bobby ordered.
“What the hell…?”
The camera panned the Brady’s large master bedroom as three women came into view wearing trenchcoats and sunglasses. Two were white. One was black.
“Hey, That’s Mom and Aunt Mary. Who’s the Black lady? What the hell’s going on here.”
“Hush, Cindy,” Jan said, suddenly intrigued. The women pranced around coquettishly; striking various model-type poses. Marcia giggled and someone hissed at her.
“I can’t help it. They look so silly,” she said.
Facing the camera, the women nodded at each other, then laughing, threw open their coats. They were naked, except for high heel shoes.
“Holy shit!” someone yelled.
“Look at them. They’re naked!”
“What the hell’s going on, Bobby?”
“Shut up!” Bobby yelled.
Eyes wide, mouths agape, the Brady kids watched in shocked fascination as the video unfolded. A strange tightness gripped their loins.
The very attractive black woman stepped between the other women. She had an hourglass figure with large breasts and hard, extended nipples. Her body glistened and her color was in dramatic contrast to the white sisters-in-law. Arms went around each other with the unknown black female finding a tit of each sister. Lovingly, she rolled the cherry-red nipples between her fingers, and faces glowed with heightened excitement.
The Bradys heard their mother moan softly. Then their aunt, Mary Cummings and the black stranger embraced, their mouths joined, hands roamed and bodies rubbed against each other. Fingers found hairy mounds and started to move rapidly. They made little mewing sounds.
With tight chests and pounding hearts, the Brady children stared in rapt fascination as their mother undulated her body against the back of the black woman; an erotic, lewd dance, sandwiching her. The nipples of her tits traced wild, zigzag patterns on the dark, satiny skin while her pelvis ground against the black woman’s buttocks.
Marcia’s breathing was ragged and shaky. She and her sister, Jan, had explored each others body, but never to this extent. She had fantasized about making love to another woman, but had never done anything about it. Now, here was her mother and aunt actually doing what she had only dreamt about.
Greg realized that his mouth was hanging open, and he closed it with a snap. The video was sending conflicting signals to his brain: anger, on one hand; voyeuristic pleasure on the other. His subconscious registered the women’s bodies and he was aroused by what he saw. He was being turned on by his own mother! He looked around quickly. So were his brothers.
Just then two aroused, naked men, one a black, entered the picture and embraced the three squirming women. The black man was a stranger. The naked white man was their uncle, John Cummings - their mother’s brother!
Uncle John took the black woman and his giggling wife out of the picture while the camera stayed on Carol Brady and the black man. He was very tall; towering over the petite woman and his erection was huge; thick and heavily ridged, the pale cockhead a startling contrast to his rich, dark color. He stood behind Carol and cupped her tits, his thumbs flicking her hardened nipples; his rigid cock tight against the small of her back. It almost reached her shoulder blades.
Cindy Brady sucked in her breath, and chewed on her lips roughly. She was no longer watching her Mother in some sort of interracial orgy, she was in an erotic fantasy and her focus was now on this stranger’s monstrous cock. Her hand had sneaked into her pajamas, and her finger was gently playing with her clitoris. She was very wet.
The Black man spun Carol around and squeezed her tight to him, actually holding her off the floor. She squirmed against him, eager for his embrace. Her legs went around his waist, and her hips moved lewdly. His cock, plainly visible, prodded her hairy slit. The Brady’s heard their Mother’s voice, rough and hoarse, tell the stranger to stick it in.
Jan’s hands covered her mouth. She was on the verge of screaming; not vindictive, but her frustration, her desire. The walls of convention surrounding her were crumbling. She pressed her back to Peter’s body transmitting her pent-up excitement to him.
The camera followed, giving full view of their Mother’s desire, her lust. They saw the huge black prickhead part the lips of her pink and juicy pussy; saw it press pass the tight opening, stretching it. They heard her moans, her cries; saw her contorted face, flushed with passion, as she screwed her pussy down on the thick, black fuckpole.
Marcia sought the protection of Greg’s arms. She wanted to hide, not from what she was viewing, but from her own arousal. Greg felt the fullness of her tits against him, smelled her wonderful fragrance. Their fantasies of each other began to merge.
Carol Brady was laying on her side getting fucked sidesaddle by the big black man. Her left leg stood almost straight up giving the camera a spectacular shot of his ebony cock, slick with cum juice, driving deep into her body. Cindy couldn’t believe such a small woman could take that size prick. She was proud and jealous at the same time.
The camera jiggled and the scene abruptly changed. The black woman, facing the camera, was straddling John Cummings; his long white cock buried in her hole, and she was sucking their Father’s prick. Any thought that they were watching only their Mother’s indiscretion was quickly dispelled. This definitely was a family affair, condoned and encouraged.
Their parents were swingers! Incestuous swingers!
Mike Brady gestured at the camera. It jiggled, the picture jumped, then settled down. Mary Cummings, nee Brady, ran to her brother, dropped to her knees and began to suck his cock with relish. Her bobbing head frequently blocked the camera’s view. Carol and her black lover came back into view. Cum spots could be seen on her body, and a tinge of white pussy cream still clung to her pubic hair. Her body glowed. The Black man walked to the camera, his flaccid cock hanging down. Even limp it was impressive.
Then Carol knelt in front of the Black woman, like a supplicant. Her brother’s rod was jammed, full length, in her black hole; only his heavy balls, bouncing erratically, showed. Carol started to lick them and John’s movements became frantic. The black cunt’s suction, and his sister’s licking was too much and he started to shoot his load.
Roughly, Carol pulled her brother’s cock out of the woman’s churning cunt and cum juice splashed her face before she could get his pulsating prick in her mouth. The camera, handheld now, came in for a close up. Carol Brady’s eyes were bright but smiling as she expertly sucked her brother John’s cock dry. Then it panned to their Father. Mike’s eyes were closed and his chest heaved. His sister’s face was splattered with dripping cum. Her fingers caught the running droplets, and licked each finger clean. The Black woman joined them and helped each woman clean her brother’s cock.
Movement caught Greg’s eye. He turned and nudged Marcia. Cindy had turned around on the couch, her ass stuck up in the air and she was vigorously sucking Bobby’s prick.
“Greg…?” His lips were soft against hers; his hand cupped her breast. Her chest felt like it was caught in a vice. She could hardly breathe. They left the room quietly. It registered on the others that they were no longer there, but it didn’t really penetrate.
On the screen Mike and John were busy fucking their own sisters. The Black woman hovered near, giving encouragement to each couple.
***
Marcia’s blonde cunt squished from the amount of cum juice in it, hers and Gregs’. She had lost count of the times she had climaxed, as her fantasies became reality. And Greg was, yet again, humping her, this time doggie-style, his cock still hard, even after several cums.
When they had reached the bedroom they had not make love, they made war! There was no foreplay, no preamble. She ust wanted his cock in her! She wanted it to stretch her, fill her; never leave her demanding body. Greg felt the same way as if all the years of frustration had to be purged immediately. He was relentless, almost ruthless in his fucking. It was practically a rape but Marcia didn’t care. Her desires and frustrations matched her brother’s; her need, as powerful. Her nails and teeth left their marks as they vented their anger and dissolved their frustrations.
Greg’s hands bit harshly into her upturned asscheeks, his hips frantically slapped against her heart-shaped butt as his sister reached behind and felt his balls, still heavy with cum. “Oh, Greg. Cum for me!” she cried.
His strokes were long and hard. Each forward thrust sucked her cuntlips in and forced her face deeper into the pillow. He began to hump faster. Marcia moaned as pain and pleasure mixed together.
“Shit! I gotta cum, Marcia… I gotta… can’t hold back.”
“Cum, Greg, oh, please cum… yes, yes, hurt me. Oh, Greg, cum in my mouth… let me taste it… please cum in my mouth.” His body stiffened and she scrambled to turn around. She wasn’t fast enough.
“Aaaaaaaggggggg!” His voice choked as his control broke and reason left him. His cum splashed her face, her hair and her tits 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 mixture. She swallowed again and again as Greg’s body shook with uncontrollable tremors. Marcia held his ass tightly and continued to suck his thick cock clean. Thick white cum dribbled down her chin. Finally, his shaking began to subside. With weak legs he collapsed on the bed, taking Marcia with him. “Oh, God, that was good,” he said.
“Uhmmmm. Yeah, we waited long enough. Stupid us! Do you think the other guys are doing the same thing?”
Greg laughed. “Does a bear shit in the woods?”
Marcia rolled over on her stomach, her full tits rested on her brother’s arm; her body still aglow from their vigorous fucking. “Ooh, my pussy’s sore. A good sore, though. Greg? What do you think about all this? I mean, the film; Mom and Dad? Those people? Us?”
“I don’t really know yet,” he shrugged. “Maybe the Brady’s are just a horny bunch and don’t give a shit about everyday morality, but whatever happened with the folks and Uncle John and Aunt Mary must be recent; like they discovered something they’ve been missing. I can’t remember anything strange going on when we were kids, can you?”
“No, I can’t. Maybe they were like us, when we were kids; having the hots for their brothers and sisters and never doing anything about it.
“Jan and I used to hide in that closet and watch you jerk off,” Marcia said, with a giggle. “We would finger each other like crazy. God, we were horny. We always wanted you and Peter. Did you know that Cindy and Bobby have been fucking since they were kids? She told us last night; said she learned from our mistakes.”
“I’m not surprised; not from the way she was sucking his cock last night. Wish I’d been smarter and gotten into your pants when we were kids.”
“When my husband fucks me I dream about you; that you’re the one doing it to me. It’s the only way I can cum.” They linked eyes and looked at each other closely.
“Then you don’t think we did anything wrong either. And this isn’t going to be a one shot deal.”
She fingered his now flaccid prick. “Not after last night. Not after what we saw Mom and Dad do. I want it all, Greg.”
“Me too,” he said, and kissed her softly.
“Oh, Christ. I’m squishing like a wet dish rag. I didn’t think one person had that much juice in them. I have to take a shower.”
“You weren’t so bad yourself. Com’on, I’ll wash your back.”
“Bullshit! That cock is getting hard again. You’ll drown me. Stay here a minute and rest. Let me make myself presentable, then come in.”
Greg stretched and yawned. His body was sore in a hundred places; his back raked by Marcia’s nails; angry welts on his shoulders from her teeth. He couldn’t remember when he felt better.
“Well, look what we have here.” Jan stood in the doorway, resting an arm on the jam. She was naked.
***
Jan stood in the doorway and smiled at her brother’s automatic reflex to cover up. “It’s a little late for that, Greg. I peeked. Where’s Marcia?”
Greg gestured towards the bathroom. From the look in his eyes, she knew that he was appraising her naked body; comparing it to her sister’s and she knew the comparison would be favorable. Marcia was taller, more lithe, but her smaller frame and larger chest gave her a more sensuous appearance. She looked like a sex machine! She liked that description.
Despite himself, Greg had a semi-erection; his cock making a small tent out of the sheet he’d hastily tossed over his lower body. He couldn’t help it, Jan had that type of body. Her large tits sat upright, cherry-tipped, on her small chest. Her tiny waist flared into a perfect hip line leading to good strong legs. A flat stomach ended at a surprisingly thick reddish blond mound. On top of everything else, her long blonde hair was in a wild disarray, giving her a completely wanton look - a real sex machine.
“Eh, where’s Pete?”
She walked fluidly to the bed and sat down. Greg noted the sway of her hips and the puffy lips of her cunt peeking out through her thick muff. His cock twitched. “He’s still sleeping. I think I fucked him out. How about you?” she said, nodding to the bathroom.
“Wild,” he said, smiling, “absolutely wild.”
“No regrets?”
“Only that we waited so long.”
Jan ran her fingers up and down her brother’s thigh. She smiled as the bulge became larger. Slowly, she pulled the sheet off of him, exposing his thick hard-on.
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”
“Fair’s fair, dear brother. I’m giving you a full frontal shot, aren’t I?” she asked as her hand moved softly over his erection, like a caress; teasing.
“Jan! Marcia’s going to be out in a minute.”
“Relax, Greg. After what we saw Mom and Dad do, can you imagine not wanting to share… everything. Did you know Marcia and I watched you jerk off, right from that closet.” Her hand circled his now raging prick, and squeezed gently.
“Aaah. Oh, wow, I didn’t think it would come up again so fast.” She began to stroke him up and down, very slowly; glancing at the bathroom as she did. “You really have a beautiful cock, Greg. It’s even better now than when we saw it long ago. I’m glad of that.” They heard the shower stop.
“Look, Jan. I don’t know what Marcia’s going to say when she comes out but I don’t want to fuck this up.”
Jan smiled and slid downward on the bed, her face inches from his rampant dickhead. Just seeing her that close to it made his dick swell up even more. Greg couldn’t believe it; after a night of the wildest fucking in his life; when he should be completely dead, he was getting another enormous hard-on. And his sister was responsible for it. Both his sisters.
“Don’t worry. You won’t fuck it up, but you will fuck it! When I came home, I was looking for something. I thought it just was Pete. Now, I know I’m just like Mom. I want all the Brady men,” she smiled, and quickly licked the tip of his cock, “and the Brady women, too.” Without warning, she sucked his cock deep into the warm, moist cavern of her mouth. Her tongue worked furiously, and her sharp teeth raked the tender underside of his shaft. Greg gasped and grabbed fistfuls of her wild hair, forcing her head downward.
“Oh, shit! Jan! That feels so good. Your mouth’s like a fucking furnace.”
Jan made little moaning sounds as she worked his shaft in and out of her oval mouth. She could feel it pulsate as the tip hit the opening of her throat. Greg tugged at her shoulders pulling her slightly forward so he could reach her beautiful tits. He kneaded them, and rolled the big nipples between his thumb and finger. He saw her eyes become slitted with passion. She opened her mouth to moan, and a large droplet of saliva ran down his prick into his pubic hair.
“Oh, yes, Greg, yes. I love it when you squeeze my nipples. Ooooooh. Oh, fuck me, Greg. Fuck me!”
Marcia wrapped a towel around her damp hair. The shower had been invigorating; hot then freezing cold. She wasn’t tired anymore. She smiled at herself in the mirror. For the first time in her life, she felt like a complete woman. She knew Greg had fallen asleep when he didn’t join her, which she thought was okay, because she knew a marvelous to wake the poor dear up. She licked her lips and opened the bathroom door.
She saw them on the bed. Fucking! Rather, she saw two asses. They were facing away from her. But she knew who they were. Her Greg! And Jan! She could see Greg’s powerful cock plunging in and out of her sister’s cunt; slick with juicy secretions. Jan’s legs were wrapped tight around his back, and her hands dug deep into his asscheeks. She could hear the sounds of their lovemaking and a wave of jealous anger swept through her, followed almost immediately, by a feeling of erotic arousal so strong that her legs began to tremble. She had seen her Mother in almost the same position in the movie and an identical feeling had hit her. But that had been film. This was real. She could put out her hand and touch them. She could even smell them; smell the sex, the sheer animal vitality of them. Her breathing became ragged and warm moisture ran down her inner thigh - hot cum juice!
Greg drew his cock out of Jan’s grasping cunt, almost to the tip and with a deep groan plunged it back in mercilessly. Jan screamed. “Aaaaaaggggghhhhh. Cummin’… cummmmmin’… oh, God, I’m cumming!… Oh, fuck me, Greg! Harder! Please, harder!… oh, God, oh, God.!”
Marcia saw Jan’s body go out of control as she erupted in a major climax. She shook and trembled wildly; churning and bucking; trying frantically to hold Greg’s cock captive and make the moment last forever. Her violent contortions were too wild for her brother, and he bucked off just as his prick started to spray his love juice. He splashed her stomach, her tits, her face, her hair. His throbbing cock seemed to spurt forever. Cum ran in rivulets down the crevasses of her body.
Marcia ran to her sister and held her trembling body in her arms. She slid in Greg’ cum. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Marcia’s here. Easy, sweetheart. Rest!”
Automatically, Jan wrapped her arms around her sister. They were cheek to cheek, breast to breast, mound to mound. Greg’s cum made them slide against each other. The heat of their bodies was transmitted. Marcia felt her nipples become hard and erect. Without being aware of it they began to rub against each other, lewdly. Their lips found each other and tongues entwined.
Greg’s panting became less severe. His cock, still half hard, glistened with dripping cum and pussy juice. His legs were rubbery and just about kept him upright. Jan’s wild bouncing had pushed him to the other side of the bed, near his sisters’ heads and he watched their passionate embrace with wonder. Then, with another surge of lust, put his cock directly above their faces - it just seem the thing to do - and let a last drop of cum juice fall on Marcia’s nose. Immediately it ran down to her lips and he watched in fascination as their tongues fought to lick it.
“Suck my dick,” he said hoarsely, “both of you.”
Marcia’s struck first taking all of his semi-soft prick in her mouth. She clamped her ruby lips tightly around the flaccid meat and began to suck greedily. Jan contented herself with licking her brother’s heavy balls. Neither of them let go of the others tits while they set about their new task.
The film; the realization of what their parents, aunt and uncle, were doing had opened a Pandora’s box of sexual need, and once started on their erotic path they had a demanding desire to taste and feel it all.
“Ahhhh, oooooh. Yeah! That’s it! Suck! Yeah, lick my balls, Jan. Do it, babe. Yes, yes! Suck them!”
Jan had taken half of his heavy sac in her mouth and was sucking gently on his testicle. Each sudden movement send a wild shiver up his spine. Marcia’s educated tongue coached his cock back to life and his body was again alive with electric thrills. Bending over he spread Marcia’s legs wide, dislodging Jan’s grip on her tits, baring her silky blonde pussymuff. The thick cuntal lips could be seen easily through the fine hair. He pulled her cuntlips apart, the meat was pink and pretty. “Oh, sweet pussy. I’m going to eat you ’til you die!”
With his dick embedded in her mouth, Jan sucking his balls, Greg began to run his tongue, ever so gently, around the inner walls of Marcia’s wet pussy. Her clitoris immediately became distended and he gently nibbled at it. She jumped and tried to talk, but his cock choked off the words. Then she jumped even higher when Jan’s tongue joined her brother’s and she reveled in the double tongue-fucking; one gentle, one rough. Chills and shivers attacked her body as her sensory system registered thrill after thrill.
Each new sensation slammed her hips against their faces as brother and sister fought to give her the cum of her life. She squeezed Greg’s ass as hard as she could, desperately holding on as her climax built to a crescendo. Strangling and gasping for breath she spit his cock out and screamed her passion loudly. “Aggggggggg!… Ughhhhhhhhhh!… Ahhhhhhhhh!… Oh, Jan, stop… for Christ sake…stop… I’m dying. No more, please, no more. I can’t take it. Oh, Greg, give me your cock again… hummmmm.”
Greg stood up slowly. Marcia was gently sucking at his purple cockhead. Jan’ head was now buried deep between her sister’s thighs; her tongue softly tapering her off. He pulled away; his cock making a ‘plopping’ sound when if left Marcia’s mouth. She spread her legs as wide apart as possible, giving Jan complete access to her most inner being. The feeling was still there as her sister’s tongue slowly brought her down from a sexual high never experienced before. She had been eaten by her brother and her sister - at the same time! And she had loved it! As Her breathing slowly returned to normal she felt a slight chill as she became conscious of the cool air on her perspiring body.
Jan looked at Marcia and smiled. “Good, wasn’t it?”
“Oh, hell. It was better than good. I thought my body was going to explode… I can’t really describe it. You have to experience it yourself.”
Jan’s smile became broader. “I was hoping you’d say that. Me next.” Marcia’s eyes opened in sudden excitement.
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