She and Betsy came almost at the same moment, both of them full of hard cock, pussyfull of horny girl fingers. Amy squealed, and Betsy squealed, and their bodies erupted juicily, the boys still fucking hard into their ass tracts. But from the excited thrusts she was getting from Chad, and the equally excited plunges of Joey's cock up Betsy's asshole, Amy knew that she and her cousin had taken these hardcocked farmboys to their sex limits.
Joey began to squirt, straight up Betsy's asshole. He squirted a lot, so much that the excess leaked out of her asshole and ran down across her pussy, straight toward Amy's waiting tongue.
Chad jerked his cock out of Amy's vise-tight ass just as he began to shoot his cum. Betsy gasped at the sight of his prick spewing its thick white cream. She grabbed him and fed him into her mouth. Chad gasped, as the cute little blonde staffed to suck on his shit-smeared cock, guzzling his creamy load straight down her throat. Chad moaned, emptying his prick into Betsy's hungry mouth.
"I think I wanna marry these bitches, little brother! Both of 'em!"
CHAPTER EIGHT
Molly Lawrence was cleaning out the refrigerator. It was too nice a day to spend indoors, but the work had to be done sooner or later. No one else was going to do it for her. Betsy and Amy were gone to the garden, although she supposed they were really lounging up at the pond in the woods.
Well, it was good they were finally getting along. The first two or three days of Amy's visit, the girls had acted like enemies whenever they were together. Now they were constantly laughing and giggling and making secret plans of some sort.
Young girls! Molly thought, smiling. Did it ever change for girls? When she and her sister Louise were their daughters' age, they'd been boy crazy, though both were far too shy to do much about it. She supposed Bets and Amy were up at the pond right now, spilling out their hearts to each other about all the things that really counted in their lives – boys, clothes, and rock 'n' roll.
Molly Lawrence was cleaning, out the in the woods, too, she thought with a smile. On a sultry day like this, she really felt like going up there herself, maybe stripping down – at least to a bikini – and plunging into the cool water of the pond. But it was a place for the young, not for the middle-aged.
She had worked down to the crisper drawer and found a stash of unexplainable vegetables when she heard the knocking at the back door. She stood up and frowned.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she asked.
On the other side of the screen, Jim Robbins smiled. He was a big, rangy man, sun-bronzed, even his hair given a golden glint by the exposure to the sun's rays. But even though he was a Robbins, he was surely smart enough to know that he wasn't at all welcome on this side of the property fences.
"I need to talk to you, Molly," he said, leaning against the screen. "Can I come in?"
"I suppose so," she replied huffily. "But I'm busy, so I hope you'll make it quick."
He came into the kitchen. He leaned his ass across the sink, arms folded across his broad chest. Molly stared at him. She'd almost forgotten how good-looking he was. Back when she and Jim were teenagers, he'd been what the girls today would call totally radical or a real fox. He'd always known it, too, damn him!
"I didn't shoot any of your cattle, if that's what you're here about, Jim," she said, "but I gave you fair warning. If you and the boys can't keep them on your side of the fence…"
"It isn't my cows that have crossed the line," Jim said. "It's my two boys. I missed them – the lazy jerks had chores that they just skipped out on – and when I went looking, I found them at the pond up in the woods. I've told them a hundred times not to go over there, that you might get after them with a shotgun, but you boys never listen. Neither do girls, right, Molly?"
She flushed. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Jim smiled. "Not everyone seems to know that the Lawrences and the Robbinses hate each other. My boys are up there with a couple of girls. Betsy's one of them. The other is a pretty, kinda tall young redhead – your niece? Louise's girl? Jesus, she doesn't take after her mother at all, does she? I'm not shocked, Molly, and I figure you shouldn't be either, but, well, they're not feuding, fussing, and fighting, if you get my drift."
"I don't," Molly said. "What are you telling me?"
Jim laughed out loud. "Well," he said, "when I got a look at them, Joey was on top of Betsy, and the redhead with the big tits was on top of Chad. Joey's never been much for running after girls, but Chad has had his cock in every girl that would hold still long enough, and from where I stood, it looked as if the redhead had just about screwed him to a frazzle."
Molly stomped over to where he was standing and she hauled off and slapped him, hard, across the face. "HOW dare you come in my house and tell me something like that, you son of a bitch!" she snapped. She drew back her hand to hit him again, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her up against him.
"Don't be such a bitch, Molly!" he said.
"You were always too pretty and too sweet to be as mean as you act with me." She was panting hard, but her breath almost stopped when he put his other arm around the small of her back and cased her body against his own.
"You bastard! Coming in here, telling me dirty stories about my daughter and my niece…"
"How about us? I remember you were just about Betsy's age when you used to sneak up to the pond and skinny-dip on hot days just like this, Molly. Remember? I used to watch you through binoculars from our side of the line. And then that day I didn't feel like watching any more, and I came down to join you – remember that?"
Molly gave a moaning sobbing cry. "It was a long time ago," she said. "I've grown up since then. I've been married and divorced, and I don't play games like that now. No, no don't do that, Jim, please!"
His mouth covered hers, his hands exploring her body. She felt naked, despite her jeans and shirt, and felt as if he were naked against her.
It seemed like a hundred years ago. The only time she hadn't worried about the Lawrence/Robbins feud. She'd met him a dozen times at the pond that summer, and they'd taught each other things about sex that neither had ever suspected separately. His had been the first cock in her mouth, and the first cock in her pussy. She'd been young, Jim eighteen, and for a summer she'd thought she was in love.
Kid stuff. And now as he told her the obscene things he claimed to have seen in the woods, as he kissed her mouth and felt her ass, she could feel those long ago sensations starting to simmer inside her body.
His grip relaxed and she eased back slightly, though she didn't pull away from him. The taste of his mouth was still hot on her own, and the imprint of his body, with his cock almost totally erect inside his jeans, still clung to Molly. He held her hand in his own, stroking her with the tips of his fingers.
"Please," she said, "don't!"
He put his other hand on the front of her shirt. She stared down, hardly believing that she was allowing him to undo her buttons. She closed her eyes and all she could see was the girls, in the woods, cavorting with Jim's two sons. There was no use telling him he lied. She knew in her bones that it was true. She wasn't shocked, just surprised. Almost as surprised as she was by the way she was reacting now to Jim Robbins' advances.
Sure, she'd let him fuck her when they were both teenagers, and despite the fact that her father and his father were almost gun-carrying enemies. But it was something that had happened one summer when she was too carried away by her newly-awakened body to know the difference between right and wrong. That wasn't true now. She was a grown woman and she knew she shouldn't let him touch her, but she was powerless to stop him, now that he had laid his hands on her.