A Taste of Incest - Honey 04

Ron slithered behind Judy in the kitchen and pressed himself against her back. His hands brushed up her thighs, her belly, to her breasts. He nuzzled her neck. She sighed and reached back, on hand on his ass, the other finding his crusted cock. She gave one firm squeeze.

"You're pretty groady, baby. I think we need to clean up," Judy insisted.

"Umm, yeah, but I really need to pee." Ron's morning wood was a piss-on.

"So piss in the shower like you always do. It all goes down the same pipes."

Hope was already leading her little sister Ann to the courtyard shower. Judy dragged Ron to follow them. Everyone had the same needs. Golden streams flowed down legs and swirled around the drain inset in slate slabs. Then they got down to the business of soaping each other's bodies. Maria came outside with Genevere just as the first four rinsed off; their own pee quickly flowed.

Genevere held Ron's elbow as he started back inside.

"Hold on there, boy. I didn't get enough dick last night." Her hand shifted to his enlarging cock. "You got some for me, I hope?" He enlarged further. "Ooh, I think maybe you do."

She squatted in front of him and took his cock into her mouth. A few deep slurps brought his soldier to full attention. Her fingers on his shaft and scrotum may have encouraged him a bit.

She stood and looked down. "Looks like you're ready."

She turned, bent at the waist, leaned into a smooth log on the cabin's exterior, and looked over her shoulder at Ron. "You waiting for something?"

Her knees spread; her butt and thigh twitched. A drop of dew glistened on her engorged labia.

"Well, if you insist, ma'am," Ron drawled.

Genevere rolled her dark eyes. She opened her mouth to chide his slowness... but instead blurted, "Oh fuck!" as he swiftly, smoothly, assuredly drove himself balls-deep in one stroke. His hands held her hips tightly. He slammed into her at a fast-rising pace.

"You want a fuck, Jenny? You want a real fuck and not just some wobble-assed gentle lovemaking?" He slammed into her again and again. "You want your ass pounded into rubble? You want bruises to last all day? Huh? Is that what you want?"

She gasped with every stroke and whimpered answers to every question.

"Ooh... ahh... ugh... ooh... god... ahh... fuck... oohhhh..." - that last when he drove in deep and lingered a moment, then resumed.

"Ahh... shit... ooh... fuck..." His pace increased. "Oh. Fuck. Oh. Shit. Oh. No. No. God. Oh. Fuck. Fuck." And faster. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck... aarrgghhh... OH FUCK! Ohhhh..." The climax swept over her like a forest fire.

Ron was not yet ready. He continued slamming. Genevere's arms and shoulders pressed into the log wall, her medium breasts madly shaking, her muscular butt and legs quivering, her knees weak. She would have buckled and crumbled had not Ron kept an inexorable grip on her thighs. He held her close and pounded away. Faster, faster...

"HAH!" Ron's yell echoed up the mountain canyon. His insistent white sperm flared into her, ignited her, drove her to another echoing scream. His sperm flooded into her living core, a blaze of pleasure, a maelstrom of hot mercy.

Ron's own legs weakened from his climax. He and Genevere slipped together to the flagstone pavement. Maria directed the shower spray onto their sweating, heaving bodies. "Shower time, kids. Let's get clean. Then let's have some breakfast. C'mon, get up, I'm hungry." She turned the nozzle from Spray to Jet and squirted them again.

Judy and Ann helped Genevere rise from the stony floor. Maria's hand took Ron's; he pulled up. Genevere turned to Ron, hugged him, kissed him hard and long and deep but especially hard, lip-bruisingly hard, desperately hard.

"Nice fuck, Ron. Let's do it again sometime. In a couple hours, maybe?"

Lord have mercy. She was going to kill him.

Ron rinsed and staggered inside. He saw activity on the great room's large couch: his big sister Pam sprawled on the cushions, a leg braced on the sofa back, a twitchy foot brushing the floor. Tony knelt between her fine thighs, steadily stroking into her. Faith straddled his sister's head, riding her tongue. Hope knelt beside the couch, kissing and finger-tweaking Pam's breasts. I guess breakfast will wait a bit, Ron thought.

*****

A good start to a good day.

Faith and Hope scrambled eggs, crisped bacon, heated chili con carne, toasted maize corn tortillas, grated sharp Tillamook cheddar, squashed fat avocados and salsa for guacamole, brewed more coffee (dosed with cocoa and tequila), mixed a pitcher of sangria, and nicely bumped butts during preparation. Judy and Ann set the long oak dining table with nine places along one side.

Plates were loaded with provisions. Nobody wore more than sandals. Faith announced the eating rules.

"This is a social meal. Everyone can handle their own drinks but nobody feeds themself. Feed those next to you. Utensils and fingers and mouths, whatever works. Got that?"

Faith and Hope took the end seats; they would only have one neighbor to feed. Food was passed: crispy bacon rashers by mouth, toasted tortillas with gooey guacamole by fingers, eggs and chili by spoon. Food was spilled on naked bodies, spills that must be licked up. Some spills were strategically located, onto breasts and bellies and genitals. Yum.

It got messy. More fun.

Everyone grabbed plates and pans to assist the after-breakfast cleanup. More sessions in the shower were required. Ron and Tony each had to pound more pussies into submission - all of them, eventually.

A good start to a good day.

*****

This Friday ran about as you might expect. Nude sunbathing. Nude dips in the warm rock pool, maybe followed by rinses in the cool spring stream. Lots of fucking and sucking and slurping inside the cabin, out on the courtyard, around the pool, wherever.

Even instruments were dragged out. They made music every now and then.

Ron played Judy's guitar. Tony played Ron's mandolin. Genevere tooted Ron's chromatic harmonica. (That's pretty personal.) Faith diddled her fiddle. Pam played her flute.

"Hey, you're even better on that Boehm than you are on skin flute," Ron teased his big sister.

"Well, I have practiced this a while longer," she blushed. She waved her silver flute. "Started this when I was seven. Didn't start the other until... oh, a few years later." She blushed again. "Gotta admit, I'm not sure which is more fun." She considered. "Depends on the circumstance, I guess."

Pam blew a Celtic air, loud. Faith's fiddle wrapped around the melody in organic counterpoint. Fragrant notes drifted up the mountain canyon.

A late lunch: sandwiches, beer. A long afternoon: sun, water, sex, music. Dinner at twilight: Maria had brought frozen homemade lasagna that managed to overpower the cheap Red Mountain Burgundy jug wine. An evening in the warm rock pool. Showering off, and drying, and returning inside the cabin. A blazing fire. No clothes. Many sexual combinations.

More wine and brownies after midnight. More romping. And finally, sleep.

Sleep interrupted by shifting bodies. The messy sheets in the first bedroom had been changed. Ron and Ann started in one bedroom there, with Judy and Pam in the other bed. Faith and Hope had crawled in with Tony in the next bedchamber, and Maria and Genevere nestled across the room.

But neither Ron nor Tony could be sure just who was sucking their cock in the darkness. Not that they really cared. They did not know which girls were furtively 69ing beside them on the king bed, either. No matter; it would all work out. Everything did.

Ron dreamed he was lost in a huge cave with distant lights flickering, cool air currents cooling him, strange gurgling sounds in the crevasses. He felt warm.

(Caves represent vaginas in Freudian dream-symbolism. What a surprise.)

Ron awoke suffocating. Strangling, because a vivid vulva had settled on his face, demanding his tongue's attention. That was virtually automatic. What was that taste? Almost like mesquite honey. One of the Heineckes, then.

A drowning pussy dropped onto his morning-wood piss-on. Fuck, he would not be able to cum for a long, long time, not with his full bladder. His cock's occupant had calculated that. She slammed up and down on his groin for about forever. He recognized her strained whimpering: his big sister!

Pam announced her first climax with a low groan and a flood of girl-cum down his hopeless shaft. He sucked harder on the clit in his mouth and heard Faith's voice moaning her satisfaction. He redoubled his efforts. He was not going to get off but he could give better than he got. Pam kept bouncing. Faith kept hyperventilating. Ron's bladder kept insisting.

But enough was enough. He pushed the pulsating women off his body, rolled off the edge of the bed, and staggered to the loo. No pissing in the outdoor shower this time. He drained and wiped and splashed and dried and returned to bed in darkness.

Well, he returned to some bed or another. This one seemed filled with Hope and Maria; he knew their scents and textures and warm sleepy yawns. He dozed off again, and awoke to another tongue licking his scrotum and shaft.

The dawn twilight revealed a blonde fellatrix. Ann! His favorite for 69ing! He pulled her across the sleep-grumbling body of whoever lay beside him and settled her thighs astride his head. Their long-practiced machinations carried Ann to a string of joyful orgasms before he finally squirted into her mouth.

The body beside them stretched a hand to stroke their torsos, to tickle Ann's nipples and bounce Ron's balls. Ron rolled Ann to his other side and looked into Genevere's dark face and eyes.

"You having a good time there, boy?" she whispered.

Ann scrunched around and grabbed Ron. She reached to brush Genevere's ebony face. She stuck a finger into her own soaked pussy and then into Ron's mouth. He smiled and slurped.

"Yeah, I think so," Ron replied. "You?" His hand tickled her curly pubic muff.

"There's never too much of a good time," Genevere whispered back. Her hand clenched his rapidly-reviving cock. "Got some for me?"

Ron judged his abilities. True, he could fuck and cum a LOT and be ready for more, soonest. But, he had already cum a dozen times in the last few hours. He had his limits, dick-wise. But his tongue and fingers still worked.

"If you want genital penetration then I'm out for the count," he said. His fingers circled her labia and then pressed inside her. "But we can still have fun." His thumb brushed her clit. She twitched and moaned.

"Yeah, I'm always up for fun." She pressed his fingers deeper into her. He took the hint. So did Ann, who crawled over Ron to attack the black girl's dusky athletic breasts. When Genevere started moaning, Ann crawled around to silence the moaner with her own tits. Genevere screamed softly into her pink aureole.

The other bed creaked.

"Hey, shut up, you guys," Faith's voice trembled in the pre-dawn light.

"Yeah," rumbled Tony, "cut us a break. Fuck, I'm still wasted."

"You probably need to pee and go back to sleep," Genevere opined.

"Bitch bitch bitch," Ron mumbled. "Everyone needs to get down. Especially me. Goddammit Jenny, let go of my dick!" Giggles wafted through the room, then steadying breaths, then snores. Too early yet to get up.

*****

The harsh sun was high in the thin smoggy sky when an evil clanging awoke a gaggle of slugabeds. Faith mercilessly whacked a big ranch-style steel triangle gong with a heavy metal spoon. Groans and curses emerged from the occupied bedrooms.

"Rise and shine, retards! Get your lazy fucking asses in gear. Saturday won't last forever, y'know! C'mon, time to shit, shave, shower, and shine!"

Whack-whack-whack. Clang-clang-clang. Fucking torture.

"C'mon, everyone up, everyone get clean, hit the shower, no lollygagging, no excuses, c'mon or I'll never stop hitting this thing." She administered a few more clanging whacks.

Eyeballs did not quite bleed - but they came close. Naked bodies staggered out the courtyard door to the outdoor shower. Ron and Tony both found their way to the inside bathroom's multiple sinks to shave and brush their teeth.

"Fucking awesome, ain't it, bro?" Tony murmured.

"You've done all this before? How long did you do the Glee Club girls? And their moms, and whomever?"

"It's a short gig. They don't go for us till we're eighteen. They pick some guy who's a loner, and trustworthy, and has good sex sense, and can keep his fucking mouth shut. They mentor each other and us guys. We get them for the last of high school and maybe some of junior college if we stay local, and that's mighty tempting, right? I was kind of a disappointment. Before me they had Genevere's older twin brothers, Juan and Donn. Not too arrogant and they don't have those famous Big Black Cocks but they were still tag-team champs. Those guys probably spit-roasted every Glee Club gal and alumnus, anyone who opened their legs and mouths for them."

Including his sister Pam, and Mrs Elliot and Mrs Sabbatini and Mrs Heinecke, Ron thought. And who else? Did the Glee Club gals ever compare him to his predecessors?

Tony wiped the soapy foam from his face. "But they don't mind us coming back every now and then. Play your cards right, you'll have a great future. A great fucking future. These babes are an institution. Goes back to around 1900, I hear. Whoever thought Piedmont was such a swinging town?"

Ron idly compared Tony's dangling dick to his own. I'm no slouch, he thought.

They finished their ablutions and strode to the kitchen. Pam and Maria interrupted their breakfast-making to nakedly embrace and kiss their brothers. Pam knelt to give her brother's cock a big juicy slurp. All too brief...

"You guys are just in time," Pam announced. She rose and rubbed her knees. "We've got waffles and special syrup for breakfast, as well as Faith's patented Mayan coffee. There's a theme here, you'll see."

The waffles were dense with buckwheat, cornmeal, and cream cheese. The special syrup...

"Here's how to dress these waffles," Maria said. "Drown them in butter, it's already soft. Pour honey all over them. Then pour tequila on top." She waved a jug of cheap mescal. "Beats the fuck out of maple or Mrs Butterworth's or anything else. On the side, there's eggs scrambled with cheddar for protein."

Tequila in the coffee-plus-cocoa-plus-cream-plus-hot-chili. Tequila on the waffles. Tequila in the air. Nice breakfast theme, hey? And was that a slight note of hashish in the waffles? This would be another staggeringly good day.

Saturday ran much like Friday. Sun, sex, water, sex, music, sex, food, sex, dozing, sex, and more of everything.

A TV news helicopter flew up the canyon while multiple bodies lay naked around the rock pool and stony courtyard in the woozy sunshine. Nobody covered up. The chopper hovered briefly and then flew on. Would they be seen on channel seven tonight?

Afternoon drifted into evening. Hungers drifted into dinnertime. Tony fired-up the Weber charcoal barbecue rig and grilled potatoes, sweet veggies, and a pile of chops Judy pulled from the fridge. Cheap but adequate Burgermeister beer sluiced it all down. Brownies and fresh sangria provided dessert.

[Sangria recipe: Start with a big jug of cheap red wine. Drain or chug enough to replace with a tube of frozen orange juice concentrate and a big slug of the cheapest, meanest vodka. Maybe give it a squirt of lemon or lime juice and add some mashed-up fruit. Shake well. It is best cold, but who cares?]

Maria held up the empty Red Mountain jug and inspected it critically.

"Is this the best you could do?" she asked Faith, their designated buyer.

Faith shrugged. "Squirt something in it and it ain't too bad, right?"

Maria shrugged. She preferred Almaden to Gallo.

The night's orgy did not wait for bed-shifting time. Ron and Tony stayed busy in front of the fireplace, on soft rugs and scattered sofas and wide chairs, and with targets bent over stools and counters and any available surfaces. The 'targets' usually clustered in three- and four-somes with breast-sucking and clit-tickling helper accompaniments. Moans, groans, gurglings, slaps, grunts, screams, and other organic sounds filled the pheromone- and sweat-laden air.

Some girls did not wait for cocks. Slurpings and fingerings elicited more cries.

Ron pistoned into his big sister Pam from behind while her tongue was busy between sweet Faith's splayed thighs. Maria and Genevere 69'd beside them on one king bed. The others were... busy elsewhere. Ron heard Faith scream. Lucky girl! He imagined her sister Hope working on her while Tony pounded.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck!" Ron recognized Genevere's dulcet tones. "Do me, Ann, do me!" He smiled. He picked up his pace into his groaning sister. Her bouncy buttocks would be well-bruised by tomorrow!

The early start meant an earlier finish. Everyone was dopily dozing not long after midnight.

** Act 4: The Moms Arrive **

An earlier finish meant an earlier start of the day. Still, few females awoke in the same bed they had crawled into a few hours before. Tony and Ron stayed pretty much immobile, worn out from their ceaseless servicings. The guys awoke feeling well-used. Not that they minded much...

"Quit that, baby, I can't do no more, oh woe, oh woe..." Ron whined.

"Don't be a pussy," Pam growled, "keep it up for your sister, it's your duty."

Ron groaned and tried to turn away. His big sister's grip on his cock stopped him. He groaned again and turned to her.

"Blood from a stone, sis, blood from a stone. I'm fucking dry now."

"How about if I pee in your mouth? Will that revive you?"

Ron groaned again. "Go pee in Tony's mouth. He loves it. I am fucking gone."

Middle of the night and she won't leave me alone, he thought. Good thing she left a few years ago or I'd be dead by now.

*****

Everyone crawled out pretty much voluntarily not long after the sun cleared the mountain crest and burned down onto the cabin. Rise and shine, people.

Early morning outdoor showers were chilly and brief. Another helicopter whizzed overhead but really had nothing much to see. Nobody was quite ready to face the warm rock pool or the slanting sunshine this early. Nine naked bodies convened in the kitchen.

Genevere orchestrated breakfast this morning. Drippings from last night's chops sizzled fresh eggs and canned hominy grits, with frozen French-cut green beans and one surviving chop diced into the grits. Two tubes of store biscuits quickly baked into cat-heads to be covered with sweet butter and clover honey. V8 and cheap vodka and leftover spicy-hot salsa filled a pitcher - Bloody Marys! The coffee contained cocoa and tequila, of course.

Breakfast was cheery.

Sunday morning was the usual pool-sex-sun-sex-music-sex play. Tanning and splashing and fucking and singing. Ho hum.

The surprise arrived around noon.

A low-rumbling motor approached the cabin's carport and stopped. Judy looked up from her perch beside the rock pool where she was blowing Ron.

"I'm not expecting anyone else here. Did you guys issue any invitations?"

All heads shook 'no'. Judy sighed.

"Fuck, it's my house, I guess I better go see what's up. Sorry, baby," she told Ron. She patted his wet, expectant cock, shakily stood, and staggered into the cabin.

Looking through the big courtside windows, Ron saw Judy wrap herself in an oversize robe and head for the door. He heard her squeak a moment later.

"Mom! And Teresa, and Magdala! What the...?"

"Good afternoon yourself, dear," Judy's mother Muriel Elliot said. Three mature women brushed past the startled young girl. "Is anyone decent around here?" Muriel laughed.