Sizzling slick chick stuck-to-the-quick with his very own cock cousin.
If so, he could very well see where the serendipity of his encounter with the legacy of the man who bore the moniker of Uncle Roy might take him. Was it destiny?
Or merely the sensual attraction so often found among siblings.
Sallie Anne was giggling.
Wriggling on his dingdong.
Getting off.
Lafayette powered the next rutfuck thrust and pressed Sallie Anne's fanny against the tiled walls of the shower.
Sallie Anne's hair was glossy slickness as she twisted her face toward the spray of the shower. Her teeth glowed in climactic rictus.
Gobs of cuntcome ran from her flews.
"I want juice," Sallie Anne- slithered from between her gurgling lips.
Her body went boneless and she slid down his lap. Lafayette lowered his crouch.
"Ouch."
Sallie Anne twisted her thumb upward in his bum to help keep Lafayette's cock from slipping out in the throes of rut.
Lafayette pulsed his pullulating penis within the labyrinthine corridors of Sallie Anne's labia. Orchidine ballocks wrenched singing clitoris as Lafayette yanked his dick out.
Sallie Anne bawled:
"Naaaaaw!"
Come spouted from Lafayette's pricktip and dripped in dollops onto Sallie Anne's tits. She kissed dick.
Slickness of semen mixing with the vaporous streaming of shower mist.
Kissing cousins kissed.
Chapter 3
Big prick sticking up with its head just visible. Hovering like an inflated dirigible above the edge of the table top.
Yancey popped his hand up and down the length. Bracing his ballocks.
Hooking them underneath with a tweak as he leafed through a small sheaf of marbled papers upon which were mounted delicate traceries in feathers and leather featuring bodies in artistic and athletic portrayal of the fucksuckrut.
Yancey sensed the movement out of the corner of his eyes. He wasn't wise-he assumed it was female because it slinked in from the women's cabana.
Of course it presumably could have been Lafayette, whom he had spied there before through the askance door, or any other of the rawhide dudes laid out about the establishment.
But Yancey had more or less been expecting something like this.
A little more expectant than less, as a matter of fact.
But not exactly like that-outlined in crisp silhouette within the door frame.
Ramona cracked a smile tightly around what looked like a set of smallish piranha teeth. Slicked her tongue out over her lower lip.
Swathed her chin.
Tiny tits bouncing rhythmically.
Pelvis wincing jittery.
Piplike nippletips circlets of pinkness scanned through the frilliness of her diaphanous blouse of ruffles and lace.
Trace of pussy seen through the pleats of her flouncy skirt of net gauze.
Gun held in front of her face.
"Like Uncle Roy's collection that much?" Little Ramona chewed lewdly through crudely screwed and rudely ruby-colored roundel mouthlips.
"So far," Yancey muttered aimlessly not bothering to move his hands.
"Take it out, motherfucker. Take your cock out where I can see it."
Yancey was motionless.
With no apparent motive.
"Don't move, Yancey. Don't breathe. But move that thing or lose it."
Yancey reflexively tightened his anal sphincter. His dick danced from where he had opened his pants and let them slide over his knees.
"Freeze."
Hard-on hovered.
"Slooooowly. Extremely so, bigboy. I don't want to see any slick moves."
Yancey snapped his knees together.
Slid his lowered pants off over his boots-or tried to.
Bent lower as Little Ramona lowered her aim equivalently with a leveling action of the big Colt revolver.
"Stand up. And don't move another muscle but that one right below your turn-turn or I'll blow your ballocksoff."
"Okay."
Yancey bent tighter to massage his bootheels over his toenails.
Cockmeat stabbing him just below the chest at the bottom of his ribcage or at least as high as his bellybutton Ramona's eyes told her though she couldn't believe it.
Yancey stood easily.
"You know what I want, Yancey."
"I gather I'm supposed to."
Yancey eyed his own Remington firearm now out of harm's way for the moment on the floor nestled in the holster affixed to the belt of his trousers.
"Kick it over," Ramona brayed. "Okay, stay stiff that way."
Yancey stood immobile save for the bubble of his pricktip and the fluttering of his nuggets. He could not budge.
"Read my cuntlips. Do you feel lucky today? Tell me, punk. Do you?"
"Not particularly."
Yancey kicked his pants with the attached gunbelt halfway toward Ramona's ankles.
"Go ahead. Make my day."
Yancey strayed his tongue out and about his narrowly assholed mouthlips.
He spread his tongue wide and then spread his mouth too.
Grin slashed from the center of his chin to his earlobes emanating the smugness of the satiated feline predator or the underside reptilian leer of an engorged penis.
"You want it, hermana Ramona. Any way I can throw it to you. Want to taste it in the face. In your hiney. Below your waist."
"What are you a doctor in anyway?"
"You want it in mouth, ass, and cunt and can come just like that-look, ma, no hands!-with prick in any of your glands."
"My man is wise. Just don't go cracking off like that too loudly-"
"Little Ramona also fucks her hermanas-her sisters. Ramona chinga su hermanas. Toca sus tatas grarides en su chochita y culito. Ychzca hermana Ramona chupa sus labias con picas de los dientes de su boca encantada."
"Can't you speak English when you talk such filthy nonsense, Yancey? You must think I'm bilingually illiterate."
Yancey chattered as if in dreary translation during a Spanish class:
"Ramona fucks her sisters. Takes their big boobs in her little cuntie pie and little asshole. And little sister Ramona blisters their cuntlips with nips from those teeth of her enchanted mouth."
"Cocksure, Yancey. You are a wiseguy all right. But not entirely correct as to what you construe is going to happen to you."
"What did I ever do?"
"What you are going to do is fuck my mouth, fuck my ass, fuck my cunt. With your face."
Ramona traced a tight trapezoid in the air with the barrel of the pistol.
She pointed the gun at his pecker.
Aimed it at his nuts.
Chuckled.
"Start fucking my face with your face, sucker. Suuuuu-uck it."
Yancey sucked his lower lip thoughtfully.
"But first, Yancey. Let's get the little matter of your firearm out of the way."
Yancey quietly moved his foot toward his trousers. Slid the pile of pants with the holster and repeater and slender bandolier laced through the beltloops well out of easy reach.
"Now be a peach to me, Yancey."
Ramona gaped her mouth.
Stuck her tongue out.
He sucked it.
Oral appendages dazzled the insides of each other's maws.
Sucking cheeks of mouths inside out. Running teeth along gums.
"Yum."
Strumming mouthlips. Slipping with straightened hard-on tongues.
Lingual organs licked out and up. Yancey*s spread tongue hit Ramona's nostrils dead-on and mashed them to her face.
"Uuuuunh."
Yancey's penis wavered exposed to the draft as his balls lofted up her thigh.
As he rode into her eyefolds with wisplike whips of his lingual meat.
He chewed up into Rarnona's eyesockets. Shellacked her hair with saliva.
"Aiiiii!"
Without a trace of remorse, Yancey had no recourse but to put Little Ramona at the whims of her misery.
He furled his tongue into a tight scroll. Pressured it into her nose.