"Oh good cock… good fuck. You're clear up in my fucking throat with it," she cried.
"Faster," he demanded, "fuck faster. Screw that sweet cunt around like that… yesssss."
Planting his feet wide apart, giving himself more room, more leverage, he began to hump the length of his rod in and out of her pussy like an animal. He slammed her fluid ass cheeks against the mattress, grunting with each lunge. He tried to hurt her, bruise her, and she loved it.
Candy felt no pain. She felt only the bliss, the fire, the friction of his dick stoking her furnace. She wiggled, fucking him with all her might, mind and body, trying to bring them both to orgasm. She felt the knob of his mighty cock swell and jerk in the slippery depths of her sheath and fucked her hips, her cunthole even faster.
She wrapped her arms tight at his neck. She strained her legs at his waist and rested her head in the crook at his shoulder while she gyrated her pussy furiously.
Pulling far back, Les slammed into her. Sweat broke on his brow as his long cock dipped again and again in her hot juicy hole.
Candy could feel his big hairy balls growing tense with the force of the cum-load her tight cunt was coaxing from him. The hands on her ass pulled her close with each forward stab, forcing her onto him. She felt only the exquisite driving goodness, only the thrust of his prick.
He sought her moist, parted lips. Their mouths fused. His tongue began to piston in time to his cock and the finger that was fucking her asshole. Then suddenly the cock in her belly stopped pistoning. It held in her at its roots. The hands on her asscheeks became cruel steel claws.
She gasped. Batting her inner cunt muscles on the vibrating shaft, she sucked his tongue and held her breath in anticipation of the first thick gush of his cream in her dilated pussy.
It seemed to take forever. Her lungs, she was certain, were going to burst through her chest and leave her firm pink-tipped titties shredded. She worked her ass frantically; bumping, grinding, milking the fat head of his magnificent cock.
It was a good come, for both of them, and they told each other so.
"Have you got any more?" she cried.
"Yes… right away. Fuck me back!" he cried.
Then his cock was again pumping, spurting another load of his hot jism up her clasping hole.
"Yes… give it to me… fill me up with it. I'm coming too," Candy gasped.
Moaning, pinching his waist in the vise of her thighs, and kneading his spitting dick in the tighter, hotter, vise of her vagina, Candy gulped the semen with her cunt. She squealed and made her cunt suck his thick cream. She felt it glide down the walls of her sheath. Out it came, searing the puffy pink lips of her pussy, and dripping wet and sticky down the crack of her ass. She sucked his mouth. She worked her stomach, making it ripple, making the ripples spread through her sex until her sensitive clit began to fire the heat, the thrill, and the fireworks of her orgasm.
"Boy, you better have one more for Cindy," Candy giggled, "or she'll tear your cock out by the roots."
"It doesn't matter… now," Cindy said, from the door.
Les and Cindy rolled their heads around. Cindy was at the door, lounging against the jamb. She had a drink in one hand, a cigarette in the other, and a scowl on her face.
"What's wrong, Sis?" Candy said, feeling something.
"Yeah, what is it, Cindy," Les said, "you look like you've just seen a ghost."
"Almost. Oh, I haven't seen one," Cindy replied. "But I feel like I just talked to one."
"What are you talking about, honey?" Candy asked.
"Just that… ghosts," Cindy said, and walked to the bed. "How long do you suppose it has been since we have seen or heard from our dear father."
"Well… let's see," her sister replied. "We're almost nineteen… ah, I'd say ten years."
"Well, I not only just talked to him, but he would like us to spend a couple of weeks with him."
CHAPTER TWO
The girls knew very little about their father except what they had been told by their mother. Most of that was bad and the girls believed it completely. That is, they believed it until they got older and started understanding a little more about life and sex.
His name was Zachery Harris. He had been a professional gambler, a rake, and, according to pictures and people's description, the handsomest and most charming man in the world – at least in the world inhabited by the people who said that.
In the nine years after the girls' birth their mother had grown to hate him. She explained the reasons for this to her daughters; he was a sex maniac, never able to completely satisfy his wild, carnal desires and he was worthless. Their mother claimed that the only reason he married her was for her money; of which she had a very great deal.
The girls took this for the truth, believing every word as fact until they started growing-up and the desires of mature womanhood started rising in their own awakening bodies.
By the time they were thirteen, sex was all-important to them. Their mother was so protective and possessive that the girls were never given a chance to experiment with boys. In lieu of that they started experimenting with each other.
Sucking each other's tits and rubbing their excited little cunts together became an everyday kick and turn-on for both of them.
Their mother discovered the pastime one day and nearly went out of her mind. She beat both of them nearly silly and kept screaming at them that they were just like their father. She said they would probably turn out to be female counterparts of him and his useless, lustful ways; just like him, they would end up no good and living every moment of their lives for sex.
The beating that the girls received and the constant reminder that sex was awful, dirty, and God-knew-what-else made the girls fearful enough to stop their experiments on each other.
For almost a month they stayed away from even thinking about sucking and fucking. They wouldn't even sleep together or look at each other when they were in the bath or changing.
But they couldn't keep it up. In no time they were back at the joy of making each other come.
Shortly after their fourteenth birthday they discovered that each other's body was just not enough to satisfy them. They both started looking longingly at boys' bodies. They wanted to see and feel a prick. They wanted to know what the older girls at school were talking about when they went on and on about the joy of sex and what it felt like to fuck on a cock instead of a finger.
In the summer of their fourteenth year, during a church picnic, they saw their first hard prick and found out what it could do to a ready and willing cunt.
Mona Landon was the school hump. All the boys were wild about her. The twins' mother said she was the instrument of the devil. The mother cautioned the girls not to associate with Mona, because it was obvious from her ripe, voluptuous body that she was destined for hell.
Both girls couldn't quite understand this because at fourteen, two years younger than Mona, their bodies were more attractive and fuller in the breasts and hips than Mona's.
Did that mean that they were destined for a life of sex and hell? They both secretly hoped so.
In the middle of the afternoon picnic, when most of the kids were swimming, the twins spotted Mona and Grady Bell, the big football hero from the high school, sneak away into the woods.
They were both sure of what was going to happen and they both agreed that this would be their big chance to see a boy in action with a girl.
They followed.
The twins waited until Mona and Grady were almost out of sight – no one else was watching, nor had seen the couple leave – then they set off after them.
Abruptly, about a hundred yards into the trees, Grady pulled the giggling Mona off the path. Cindy and Candy, being as quiet as they could, followed them to the edge of a clearing.