Carter Sprague - My Sisters And I

It all began when I was awakened from a snooze in the sun and looked around to see my cousin George fucking Anita right alongside me. For a few moments, while I recovered my sleep-slowed wits, I didn't know what I was looking at I thought they were just rough housing, the way we kids always had when we were together on the island, summers.

Then I saw that Anita's scarlet bikini bottom was lying on the sand and that she had her knees up and wide apart and that he was planted right between them with his pimply buttocks bobbing up and down like a pair of speckled peaches as he drove his cock in and out of her hole. It was wet and white and stiff as a ramrod each time he pulled it halfway out and rammed it back into her. Evidently the fluid that covered it had spread to his balls, for they were sugared with sand.

Anita was poking her pelvis up to meet his trusts halfway, and both of them were grunting and moaning as if they had prime bellyaches. It was the sounds they were making that had wakened me from my snooze in the sun. George's black trunks were down around his ankles, and Anita was holding her bright red bikini top in her left hand.

I opened my mouth to yell something at them, then shut it. I had never seen two people fucking before and the sight both appalled and fascinated me. I felt my balls tighten up and a wave of sick excitement grab my stomach muscles. Then I got a hard-on so big and fast that I thought it would run right through my trunks. The constriction of the double-thick cloth made it hurt so much that I let out a yelp of pain.

Just then Anita and George stepped up the action and he began jamming his cock into her so hard that I thought her cunt was going to swallow his balls. I looked up a little and saw how her beautiful breasts were squashed flat under his weight and then glanced at her face which was turned toward me and saw her shining black eyes looking full at me, fully aware of my reaction and full of mischievous laughter.

Then she did something wild with her bottom and locked her legs around George's buttocks and began drumming on them with her heels. He rammed himself all the way into her cunt and stiffened and let out a loud Jesus Christ! as he poured his sperm into her guts.

They lay still for a minute or so then George pulled out of her, making the damnedest thock-Hock sound, like a cork being pulled out of a bottle of machine oil. His prick was still soaking wet and a heavy drop of white stuff, like a white bead, formed and then dripped from its tip and made a little dark clot in the rumpled sand beneath them.

He looked down at its dwindling length and said, Jesus, and took his right hand and squeezed more jizzum out of it. Then he lifted it and saw the sand encrusting his nuts and made a face and got up and looked and saw that I was awake. He grinned like a satisfied tomcat and said, Hey! It's about time you woke up, Jeff. How long you been watching us ball?

I said, Long enough. Then I began to get mad and said, Why'd you have to go and do that? You're always getting us into trouble.

It was true. Cousin George had been getting my sisters and me into jams every time he came to the island to visit and this was his third year. He was seventeen now, older than all of us kids except Darlene who was eighteen. I'm sixteen and Anita's fifteen and Francie's fourteen and Jeanie's twelve. Anita isn't really my sister she was already there when my father married her mother after our real mother ran away with Mr. Dobson and got the divorce. If that sounds kind of mixed up, it is. But we manage to live with it pretty well. Missie (her real name is Maria Juanita Alvarez y O'Brien) is beautiful and cooks great and keeps Dad happy, which is more than our real mother did she mostly got smashed and beefed about things all the time.

Cousin George comes from Camden, New Jersey, and he likes to raise hell as long as somebody else gets in trouble over it and pays for it. The first year he was here, he found a patch of marijuana over on the west side of the island and showed us how to make tea. Darlene and I got caught smoking under the boathouse and that's the only time Dad ever whaled the daylights out of any of us.

Last year, he bribed Lopez the boatman to bring some pulque over from Baja, and again Darlene and I got caught. We were always allowed to drink wine and beer, but hard liquor was strictly off bounds and we got so smashed we passed out in the copse at the south cove and they searched for us and found us when we didn't come home for dinner. We were barred from all the fun over Labor Day weekend, which is the big deal for our family and my allowance was cut for six months.

Now here he was, fucking Anita and I could smell trouble right away and knew, somehow, that most of it was going to fall on me and Darlene, maybe, no matter who started it. So I began to beef. But George just grinned at me. He has straight straw-colored hair that sticks out in front of his forehead and his face is bright red with acne. If I were a girl, I'd run a mile from him, but for some reason girls go for him maybe because of that big dong I was looking at right then, He said, You call this trouble? Maybe I ought to charge you a tuition fee for a course in sex education. He tried to dust the sand off his balls again, then said, Oh, shit, and trotted down into the water.

Anita was sitting up when I looked her way, getting ready to put her bikini top back on. She was one teen-ager who really needed a top. She had breasts like a pair of ripe canteloupe halves and nipples like twin garnets jutting out from the middle of them. She was dark-skinned anyway, and a summer in the hot Lower California sun had turned her a satin-smooth dark brown. She was the prettiest girl I had ever seen and she knew I thought so. Suddenly, as she reached up her back to fasten the top, she went shy. She said, I suppose you think I'm awful, Jeff.

I don't know what to think I just wish you hadn't done it with George.

Why not with George? The devil was gleaming right in back of her half-lowered eyelids with their great long lashes. Would you rather it were you?

There she sat, half facing me, with her knees wide apart and her dripping cunt staring at me like a third eye, pale pink beneath the patch of curly black steel wool, frosted with grains of sand like George's balls before he went in the water. I had to swallow twice before I could say, I don't know shit, maybe I do.

I'd a lot rather it was you, she said, her round little face solemn and lovely. It could have been, you know any time.

I knew oh, how I knew. Ever since she came into my life, the adorable little minx had been deviling me nuzzling me, rubbing those terrific soft curves against me, kissing me at every opportunity, making it plain that her love for me was no sisterly thing. I'd been fighting her off, feeling noble on account of some goof-ball idea I had she deserved the treatment of a sister also, because I was scared shitless. Now I felt like at least seventeen kinds of an idiot. I'd only let George get her dirty old George with all those pimples and the mean, dirty mind.

She put out a tiny hand and touched my knee and said, It's not as if I were really your sister, Jeff. It wouldn't be like well, incest.

Wouldn't it? I asked. I knew what incest was, of course, but it was a stupid question, because then I had no idea what it was like.

George came trotting up then and picked up his trunks and said, Let's go up to the house. I'm hungry.

You go ahead, said Anita. I want to talk to Jeff.

Their eyes locked and then his shifted to me and he grinned, a knowing, non-nice grin. I started to get up to go with him, but Anita laid a finger on my forearm and, so help me, I couldn't move. He pulled on his trunks and walked slowly off up the beach and disappeared around the point fifty yards away. Anita waited until he was out of sight and said, Why do you think I let him do it here? I wanted you to see it.