“How much did you girls give yourselves?” I asked.
“Enough,” said Anita, “so that if somebody doesn't poke a stiff prick into me in a couple of minutes I'm going to have to jack off with a broom handle.”
“Hey,” said Jean. “I don't feel anything extra special. And you promised me the same dose.”
“But I did…” began Anita. She looked at the others. “The one without Spanish fly… Missie's order… was on the left end of the row when I lined up the casseroles. Remember?”
“On the left end!” said Francie. “I thought you said on the right end.” Her knuckles flew to her half-open mouth.
“Jesu!” Anita reverted to her native Spanish. “You know what that means? It means my mother got it.”
“She hasn't done anything,” said Darlene anxiously.
“She got the mickey finn, too,” said Francie. “Maybe a good thing, huh?”
“Maybe…” Anita sounded doubtful. “Poor Mama. Let's hope it's worn off by the time she comes to.”
“Oh-oh,” said Darlene. “Here comes Gorgeous George.”
He stood in front of us, hanging onto his erect dick with tears running down his pimpled cheeks. He said, “I know what you bitches did to me, and if one of you doesn't help me out, I'll really start yelling.”
Anita said, “It's somebody else's turn this time. How about it?”
They acted and sounded as if fucking Cousin George were a distasteful chore… but finally, Darlene got up grudgingly and led him up to the mattresses where she lay down and spread her legs, absorbing his prong without any symptoms of visible pleasure.
Anita and Francie and Jean and I continued to sit in the shallow water with the girls clustered around me, nuzzling me like soft warm puppies. After a while, I could feel my loins begin to stir. Francie noted my revival first and reached for my prick and massaged it gently, making a cylinder of her fist and rubbing it up and down a few times, then putting her lips and tongue to its tumescent tip.
Jeanie and Anita began pulling Francie off, but I said, “There's enough for everybody, if you don't crowd me.”
“But you didn't finish with me.” Jean pouted prettily.
“Don't blame him,” said Anita. “It's my turn again.” She spoke with the authority of her years, and the two younger girls gave up, grumbling, and then, recovering quickly, raced to the mattresses where they fell on one another in a joyous sixty-nine.
“Cute little kittens,” murmured Anita. Then, putting her arms around me and nuzzling me with her beautiful breasts, “I'm sorry if I hurt you, darling Jeff. I didn't mean to… honest. I just wanted to give Cousin George a bad time and have some fun myself.”
“You seem to be doing all right,” I said, slipping my hand under the shallow water and into the hot, throbbing haven of her creaming cunt. It was impossible to tell whether Anita or the Gulf was wetter.
We didn't bother going back to the mattress pad or out to the reef where I had lost my cherry to her. She just rolled over on her back and parted her legs in the most delectable figure-Y in the world and thrust her cunt above the surface to receive my again stiff prick. I slid it into her gently and she purred like a kitten as our union became complete. In more ways than one, it was like coming home again, and I could have spent the rest of the night just lying there joined to her, with neither of us moving. My cock didn't hurt any more, and evidently some of the influence of the Spanish fly had worn off with her, because we just took it easy and let the water lap around us while our bodies spoke silently.
Her cunt stirred after a bit and I responded, then checked her with my hands on her bottom. “Let's lie still a little longer,” I said.
“I can't, darling Jeff… I love you too much.” A delicious stirring, then repose again. Then, “With you, it's beautiful.” Another stirring, more frantic, a small quick orgasm shaking her beautiful young body. Then, “I've fucked a lot of boys the last two years, darling Jeff, but you're so far the best, there's no second.”
“What about Cousin George?”
“Darling Jeff, if I loved him as I love you, do you think I'd have done what I did tonight to him?”
“But you did it to me, too.”
“I'm sorry.” Another stir, then, “I think. Oh, Jeff, it's so lovely.” Soft, intricate motions that set the water lapping gently around us.
“What's the matter with Cousin George?” I asked.
“He's too competitive… he thinks he has to master a girl. He doesn't try to make her happy the way you do. All he wants is to get himself off in her… and that's not love.”
“You mean like this?” I bore down hard on her and dug into her with a burst of renewed stamina. I ground my dick spiraling into her, withdrew it rapidly and hit her again and again, ramming my entire pelvis into her counterthrusting crotch.
“Don't!” she gasped. “Please don't, darling Jeff… I can't stand it.”
I stepped up the pace and felt her legs begin to piston in and out spasmodically like a frog's. She gasped, her voice grainy with ecstasy, “I can't stand… Oh, my God, darling. Oh, my God… por Dios!”
Her cunt seemed to come gyrating up out of the water to join me as my sperm flowed from my balls up through my prong and burst through its tip into the very heart of her body. She seemed to be suspending herself on the water, seeking to devour with her womb every drop of semen I possessed, holding her pussy flat against my scrotum and moaning, “Jesus, darling Jeff, but your balls feel so wonderful flapping against my crack.”
Then she began to grind some more, and I stayed right with her. As we moved like a single living creature and the slippery sperm in her cunt was absorbed once more by her rich sex sap, I began to realize what a perfect fucking machine my stepsister was. The others were all wonderful, of course, but each because of some oddity of structure, like Darlene's up-front cunt, Francie's short tunnel with the long grasping lips, Jean's tiny tight little pussy and sleek, hairless girl-child's body.
But Anita was structural perfection. Her boobs were full as a grown woman's, yet they didn't hang unless she bent over. Her arse was round and perfect and soft, but firm and silky. Her legs and arms were perfect and the low rise of belly above her pussy was like a Persian pleasure dome. As for the cunt nested beneath her triangle of curly black cunt hair, it was in no way unusual… at least, not as my real sisters' cunts were… but just what a cunt ought to be… soft and silky and tight enough to send a guy on his way in a hurry if she was of a mind to. I could reach and pass the flanged gates far inside, but it took a good prick and a good poke to do so. She was juicy, too, and knew what to do with her hole, as she knew what to do with her entire body.
I didn't grudge Anita the other guys who had got in her pants, not even Cousin George, if she had learned how to fuck from them. Somehow, I realized then that the most important thing of all was that she loved to fuck… even more important that she loved to fuck me.
I cradled her in the shallow water and kissed and cuddled her to show my love, even while our fucking pieces were making the water dance. She understood my gesture and held me close but not too tightly, and we rolled in the surfless sea until affection at length grew lost in a resurgence of irresistible passion that returned fierceness to our mutual onsets and made the final peak more memorable than any of the fuckings that had preceded it. But underneath, the real love survived the heat of our tumultuous double-orgasm and she offered her lips and kissed mine lightly with a new affection we both knew would last.
When, at length, she pushed me softly away, she said with a rueful little laugh, “I don't know what I'm going to do with you, but this is going to make our lives very complicated.”
“What about the others?” I asked, pretending not to understand her… perhaps because I didn't dare.