The Dorić Diaries

"What was that?" Kristina whispered grabbing my arm with both her hands.

"Shhhh ..." I hissed and motioned for her to be quiet.

We moved closer to where the sound had come from crouching behind the dense shrubbery of wild Lilacs, Gerbera Daisies and Elderberry. And from our vantage point we saw them, Petar and Sasha, but what we witnessed was something way beyond our wildest imagination.

There in the center of a small clearing leaning back against the trunk of a gnarly, old Oak tree was Petar. His legs were spread wide and his trousers pulled down around his ankles. You could clearly see the gash on his upper thigh gleaming with the balm that Sasha had applied. She was standing a bit to one side and behind him with her left arm around his waist and her body pressed against him, looking down as she stroked his penis. Her thick hair cascaded around her like a dark, shimmering veil giving us only glimpses of her face but we could hear her whimpering softly while she pleasured him.

"Ohhhh, Petar ... Ohhhh, God ... unh, unh ... yes, baby ... oh, oh ..." she sighed leaning her head against his chest.

She kept stroking him, maintaining a steady, measured rhythm, back and forth, back and forth her slender fingers tirelessly pumping the length of his turgid shaft. On the down-stroke, she would peal the foreskin back past the flared coronal ridge revealing the glistening, red dome which seemed to pulse and grow with each passing second, then traversing back up she milked him, squeezing the seeping, silvery treacle from the Cyclops-like eye, her fingers slick with the slimy dregs of his sap.

Kristina and I were transfixed, suddenly oblivious to everything, unaware of any existence other than the sticky, wet sounds of their frenetic foreplay and the sight of her hand piston-like, stroking up and down along the length of his distended, thickly-veined root.

Petar's head was thrown back, his eyes scrunched shut and he was moaning, the sounds resonating from somewhere deep within his chest, echoing in time to the dull slapping of his sister's fist against the pit of his groin. He had reached behind him and was holding onto her ample behind, alternating between squeezing her butt-cheeks and caressing the outside of her thigh.

But Sasha was oblivious to everything but his cock; she was determined to elicit her sticky reward and sensing his mounting excitement, quickened her pace with renewed vigor. I could see her rocking her hips and rubbing her crotch against his thigh triggering images of the soft fabric of her panties, pressing into her crack, soaked and soggy with the slippery, wetness of her juices.

My own cock was rock-hard when I realized that it was pressing against Kristina, the underside lodged in the crack of her ass. At some point, instinctively, I had pulled her to me, one arm wrapped around her abdomen, the other under her blouse, toying with her nipples and fondling the firm mounds of her budding breasts. I could feel her behind wiggling against me, our hearts pounding together as we watched our siblings fanning the flames of their lust.

We were both hypnotized by the sheer eroticism of the scene that was unfolding.

Then I heard him, "Oh God ... please, baby, faster, ohhhh, I'm going to cum ... I'm cumming ... sister, oh, sissss-ter, Ahhhhrrrrggghh!"

And with that he doubled over and blew, his fingers digging frantically into her thigh, spewing his spunk in thick, ropey globules which arced high in the air, splattering in glutinous, coagulated clumps that disappeared slowly within the lambent blades of grass.

At that precise moment, just as Petar climaxed, we heard Sasha emit a startled gasp; astonished by the sight of the first milky gob spurting out from the tip of his cock. It was too much for her.

"Ohhhh ... oh, God ... oh, ohhhh, Petar ..."

She stopped, surprised by the intensity of his orgasm; her eyes widening, squeezing his throbbing flesh in reflex before reestablishing the rhythmic cadence of her strokes, pumping him through his climax until she had coaxed every drop from his twitching body, her fingers and palm lovingly caressing the angry, pulsing head until there was nothing more he could give her. That is, nothing except for a single, translucent drop of cum which oozed out of the tip and dribbled thickly onto her long, delicate fingers.

What she did next has been indelibly imprinted on my brain. She stood back and looked at Petar, staring into his eyes, while licking the residual fluids off of her hand, her long, serpentine tongue whisking the frothy, viscid ejaculate into her mouth, smiling as she savored her first taste of semen. Then dropping quickly to her knees she sucked his softening penis into her waiting mouth.

I heard him groan again, a gurgling, hoarse sound, his fingers weaving into her hair, murmuring incoherently while she bobbed over his crotch. And while she was sucking him, you could hear her moaning, the soft sounds blending in erotic harmony with the slurping of her mouth suckling on his cock.

"Mmmm ... mmmm ... mm, mm, mm ... mmmm ..."

I strained to get a better view but Petar had pulled her off of his root and gently pushed her back down on the grass.

"Enough, baby, enough! It's too much," he said, his voiced unnaturally strained, "now it's your turn."

Sasha just looked at him, her eyes wide and her face flushed with excitement and reached again for his cock but he pushed her gently downwards.

"No ... lie back. There is something I want to do ... I've wanted to do for so long ..." he mumbled.

With an expression of anticipation and without protest, she lay back down, raising her knees and spreading her thighs expectantly and waited with eyes closed.

He pushed her skirt up and away from her crotch, rolling the hem towards her waist and buried his face into her groin, cupping her ass while he feasted on her cunt. Her hips rose up involuntarily, her back arching while her thighs squeezed the sides of his head. We could see her fingers curling through his hair, her body undulating sensually, thrusting her groin up against his mouth. And while he continued to lick and nibble on her through the thin cotton fabric of her panties, I could see her squirming, her torso rotating in small, erratic circles against his mouth. They were both moaning and sighing and writhing caught up in the storm that was building around them until finally Petar sat back on his haunches and just looked at her. His expression was one of wonder and awe.

"Oh, God ... ohhhh, baby, you taste so good ... I've wanted this..." he sighed then pulled her panties down, tugging at it impatiently when it got tangled around her feet and tossed it to the side.

It landed a few yards from us but even from that distance we could see that it was mottled and soaked with her juices and his saliva.

When I looked back, Petar had moved to the side and was taking off his clothes giving us a clear view of Sasha lying back with her knees drawn up in the air. She was playing with herself, her fingers fervently furrowing through the folds of her velvet patch.

"Hurry, baby, hurry ... please ... oh, oh ... ahhhh ... stick it in me, Petar, please baby, fuck me ..." she was moaning.

It was the first time that I had seen my older sister's cunt. And, at that moment of heightened sexuality, I can't begin to describe the thrill that went through me. It made my knees weak. She was absolutely gorgeous; a sensual angel lost in her moment of lust saying things I never thought she would.

My brother got back in between her knees, his cock throbbing lewdly, bouncing up and down like it had a life of its own. Then adjusting himself on his haunches, he leaned forward and rubbed the tip of his cock along her slit making her jerk and twitch. He kept doing this until she couldn't bear it any further. She was squirming, trying to get it into her, pushing her hips up at him.

"Please, baby, do it. I want to feel it deep inside ... oh, Petar ... do it!" she whispered.

That was when he began pushing it into her. The view of the actual penetration was hindered by his body and her legs but we could see enough to imagine the rest. And, we could still hear Sasha's hoarse whimpers of pleasure.

You could tell from his movements that Petar was being careful, inching his thick, fleshy rod into her virgin cunt, spreading her open for the very first time. He would push a little and wait until she adjusted to his girth before giving her more of his length. He kept repeating this until he was about halfway inside her and that was when Sasha let out a sharp cry.

"I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry ... did I hurt you? Do you want me to stop?" Petar asked her.

She was quiet for a moment, her body conforming to the newness of the invading spear; feeling him prying her open, moving inside her, the initial pain assuaged by the pulsing sensations of pleasure mitigating the stretching, penetrating and ripping of her vaginal pathway. Then inevitably, the paroxysmal ache of her threatened virginity changed dissolving gradually into a liquid bliss, a new incredibly intense sensation which boiled over from deep within the V of her thighs, radiating outwards and spreading through her body, making her feel like she would burst from the pure pressure of her ecstasy.

"No, no ... don't stop, just do it, it's okay, push it in all the way" she whispered, her hands wrapping around his butt and pulling him into her.

I saw him back out a little and then with one quick thrust of his hips, he was in her; buried all the way up to the hilt. His butt-cheeks flexed involuntarily as he ground his pubis into her crotch.

Sasha let out a groan that sounded like a guttural hiss, biting down on her lip with her eyes shut, holding him tightly to her. And then they both remained still, lying frozen, cock and cunt fused together, their bodies fanned by the molten flames of their incestuous fire. It was almost as though I could feel the gulping lips of her cunt pulsing around him, drawing him into her, their sensibilities cauterized by the intense intimacy of his cockhead throbbing deep inside her belly. It was almost like I was him.

After a while she began to move, to buck under him, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist keeping him locked to her. It was the sign he was waiting for. He rose up onto his elbows and began pumping into her, slowly at first then picking up speed until he was ramming in and out of her, each stroke causing them to slide together along the grassy bed. She was moaning again, her head, tossing slowly from side to side with her long hair lashing about her face. Her hips were rising up to meet his every thrust; they were like two dancers in an unrehearsed concert, each reacting instinctively to the rhythm of the other. It was truly an amazing ballet.

The visual stimulus coupled with the feel of Kristina's body was enough to shut down any higher thought or rationale. All I wanted was to fuck my younger sister. What I really wanted was to fuck Sasha but Kristina would have to do. I pushed my hand into my younger sister's panties and rubbed along her slit. She was wet, seeping her mildly viscous nectar onto my fingers as I explored the folds of her vaginal lips and when I found the little pleasure pea perched on top of her gash, she moaned then shuddered and turning, kissed my neck. I tried to get my finger into her hole and I'm not sure if I hurt her or whether she just got scared but she let out a soft cry then brusquely pulled my hand out from her pants and without saying a word or even as much as a look, she turned and ran towards home.

I wasn't sure if they heard Kristina leaving. There was a distinct rustle as she cut through the bushes, her footsteps resonating softly, fading into the distance but if they did hear her, they didn't care. They were lost in their own world of carnal bliss.

Petar was now fucking Sasha in earnest. I could hear them moaning and groaning, their bodies thrashing wildly accompanied by the sounds of squishing flesh slapping together while he plowed in and out of her.

My brother would grunt each time he rammed his cock into her and just as he pulled back, Sasha would moan, loud, titillating whimpers of delight. The sounds they made were very different -- male and female; Ying and Yang, both erotic in its own way building slowly towards their crescendo.

I was torn -- I wanted to stay and watch this to the finish but I was worried that Kristina would tell my mother and that would mean Papa would find out and there would be all hell to pay. So I ran back, chasing after my little sister, hoping to catch her before she got home.

*******

My Sister - A Discovery

I looked for Kristina everywhere but couldn't find her. I had checked her usual hideouts but she wasn't in the barn or by the pen where the dogs were; and not behind the large Sycamore where she often read her books. Damn her! This was getting scary! Reluctantly, I went to the kitchen to see if she was with mom, expecting the worst but the place was empty -- now, I was really worried; my trepidation quickly turning to fear. They must be with Papa and that means we were all going to get it.

With my mother, you could get away with some stuff but with Papa, it was a different matter altogether. If he was in a good mood you got additional chores to do and if he was in a bad mood, God help you - you got beaten like a mule up a hill.

I figured the safest thing to do was to lie low for a while and the best place to do this was in the barn. But just as I was slipping out of the back door, I noticed Papa in the living room, reclining on Grandpa's old rocking chair drinking a bottle of Ožujsko beer. He looked quite content, eyes closed, listening to some melancholic song on the transistor radio. He was humming along and seemed to be in a good mood.

I walked over, "Papa, have you seen Kristina?"

"No. I think she went with your mother to the river -- they are bathing," he said and thinking nothing further of it, he asked, "What did you think of that bull, boy? He is a big one, eh?"

"Very big, Papa, and beautiful. How long are we going to keep him?" I inquired trying not to think of Kristina.

"He is ours now ... I bought him from your Uncle."

I was a bit surprised. It is not every day that Papa buys a bull and in fact, I can't remember if we ever had a bull on our farm.

"What are we going to do with him?" I asked.

"Well, he will take care of the cows and in a few years, after we have had many calves, we will butcher him. He will provide us with good meat for the winter then."

"And very happy cows ... eh, Papa?" I replied and we both laughed.

*******

There were only two bedrooms in the small farmhouse; the master bedroom that my parents used and the other, slightly larger room that the rest of us had shared at one time or the other. Laura and Kristina slept against the wall, next to the door that opened into my parent's bedroom. The bed that they shared was the one that we had all slept on together until Petar moved out into the loft in the barn. It was bigger than a traditional king-sized bed and could easily fit five kids and it wasn't unusual, when we were younger, to find us entangled in each other's arms, our bodies pressed together against the morning chill.

Then two years back, my father brought two beds from my grandfather's house -- one for Sasha and the other for me. My bed was placed across the room against the far wall, facing away from theirs to give us all some space to ourselves.

About the same time, Sasha moved into an enclave just outside the washroom that Papa had converted into an independent room. It was small and cramped but she had turned it into a private antechamber concealed by a heavy, embroidered curtain that hung down from ceiling to floor. This acted as the entrance to her little haven and allowed her some semblance of privacy.

Earlier, after making sure the animals were all penned in for the night, I had stopped by Sasha's room and called softly out to her but got no response. I had waited for a moment, my mind racing and not quite sure what I wanted only that I needed to see her again. Then realizing she wasn't there I slipped into her room pushing past the satin drapes.

I quickly scanned the room and saw her clothes lying on the bed, strewn carelessly in a desultory heap as though she was in a hurry, and on impulse I picked up her panties which lay to one side, twisted into a tiny figure-eight. As I untangled them, what became immediately apparent was the small, wet stain covering the crotch. I ran my fingers gingerly along the crease, titillated by the silky moistness, and then pressed it up against my face savoring the incredibly heady fragrance of her musk. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, again and again, my senses permeated by her irriguous scent. I was certain that she was with Petar and resisted the urge to return to the barn to spy on them and instead, tossing the satin undergarment on the floor, I left, my mind riddled with the lewd images of all the wonderful things I had seen that day.

I lay awake thinking about Sasha and Petar and what I had witnessed but most of all, I recalled the slippery, wet feeling of Kristina's slit, the soft firmness of her boobs and the manner in which her ass had rubbed against my cock and soon I was stroking myself under the covers, keeping as still as I could, and hoping that the old, wooden cot wouldn't creak in betrayal.

I was so caught up in my fantasies that I didn't notice her until I felt the warmth of her body pressing against my back, searing me like a branding iron and her breath, bristling humid against the nape of my neck. It was Kristina.

"I can't sleep ... I can't stop thinking about them," she whispered into my ear, "and us."

Her arms were wrapped tightly around me and her body spooned against mine.

"I can't either," I replied softly then taking a hold of her hand I pushed it downwards towards my cock.

The precise moment when her fingers curled tightly around my shaft was electric and I almost came. It was the first time anyone had ever touched me and it was so much more thrilling than the feel of my own fingers. My cock was throbbing and leaking precum when she began stroking me, her motions unpracticed and awkward, but it was still the most pleasurable sensation I had ever felt. I groaned and helped her by guiding her hand, showing her exactly how to jerk me off.

Surprisingly, like she was being guided by some innate feminine instinct, she overcame her awkwardness and worked up a slow though steady rhythm. My cock was making clicking, wet sounds as she pumped the skin up and down over the swollen head, her fingers, slippery and lubricated with my juices, sliding over the tip and down the shaft to the root.

The bed was creaking in time to her strokes and I knew that we were making far more noise than was customary and amidst the strange cacophony of sounds, I could hear my father's snoring resonating from the adjacent room, droning softly in the background.

"Laura? Is Laura awake?" I whispered worried that we would wake her.

"No. She's asleep ... I waited and made sure," Krissy replied; her voice tight and breathless, "Am I doing it right, Andy?"

"Yes, yes ... don't stop, baby, keep going ..." I croaked and heard her giggle squeezing my cock tighter.

"I won't stop but I want to see it shooting out ... like Petar," she said continuing to pleasure me.

I was getting close and could feel the initial tingling at the tip and my sperm starting to bubble at the base buried above my scrotum when I had the sudden urge to fuck her; to sink myself inside her. I pulled Krissy's hand off me and turned so that we were now facing each other, and using my knees to spread her thighs, I pushed her back and lay on top of her. I could feel her heart pounding as her body adjusted to my weight. She spread her thighs farther to accommodate me and when I looked down she was staring into my eyes.