Anything The Heart Wants Pt. 01

Anything The Heart Wants - Part 1

Hot Day and Hot Nights on Cape Bonita

By

Rob McCall IV

This is a multi-part story of a young man's life and the joys of his adopted family. It begins in Incest/Taboo and may travel to other categories in the early chapters, but will return to I/T if you stay with the story.

All persons depicted in sexual acts are at least 18 years of age and consenting adults.

© 2022 RMcCIV

"Why is it that whenever you look up at the clouds, they always look like some kind of animal?" I said to Andi, lying on the picnic blanket next to me.

"I don't know, but they do. Look at that one," she said, pointing towards a grouping of puffy, white cumulus clouds over slightly to our right. "That looks like a polar bear."

I nodded in agreement and pointed to the left. "Check out that one. Don't cha think it looks like a bucking bronco?"

"No, I think it looks like a cute little pony. See, there's the tail," and she waved her hand. "And how about that one next to it?" Andi turned to look at me as her hand landed on my chest, finding the skin in between my open shirt as the soft inner thigh of her shapely left leg landed on top of mine. "That one next to it is an elephant."

"An elephant?!"

"Yeah. An elephant. A big white fluffy elephant. Can't you see it!"

"Well, maybe, kinda, sort of. As long as it's not a pink elephant dancing," I laughed, and Andi merrily joined in. Her infectious smile brighter than the sun in the sky. A smile filled with happiness and life.

We held our look for another moment. I couldn't help it. I was so mesmerized by the beautiful blonde by my side on the blanket. The mop of slightly curly hair, her azure eyes the color of the sky without any clouds, how her freckles danced lightly over the bridge of her nose, and her inviting lips lightly covered in strawberry gloss begging me to roll over and give her a big, deep kiss.

I pulled back and looked at her some more. Today she was wearing a light, low-cut top tucked into pink shorts. You know, the type of shorts with those little "Vs." stitched into the sides.

Her lightweight summer top had small, flat circles patterned throughout it. I am sure she was wearing it because it made her sizable breasts look ravishing and her waist small. She knew I couldn't resist her 20 year old C-cups straining against the fabric.

"Hey! Check that one out over there!" she grabbed my arm to point, breaking the spell." That looks like two dogs doing it."

"Doing it?" You mean fucking?"

"Yes, asshole, fucking," she snarked at me while punching me in the side.

"Oww! That hurts!"

"Good. That's what you get for being a jerk.

Okay," I said, rubbing my side before pointing at another. "Doesn't that one look like the sea horses we saw down at Sea World last summer?"

"Yeah, a little.

"And Shamu is right next to it," I added, moving her hand slightly towards the crotch of my shorts, that was starting to get rather tight. "Look! He wants you to slide on and take a long ride," and yanked her on top of me, so she was sitting right on my "killer whale" with her thighs straddling mine.

"And what exactly do you think you're doing?" she giggled.

"I thought you'd like to 'Free Willy' and treat my large Orca to some wet and slippery fun."

Jodie rubbed her cameltoe up and down my ever-expanding hardon. "Do you now?"

"Yes, ma'am. But be careful of the blow hole," I teased as I put my arms around her and playfully rolled Andi onto her back as my hand slid under her blouse and over her luscious right boob.

In no time at all, both of her luscious breasts were out, and Andi's shorts were dandling off of her left ankle as I moved her lacy pink thong to the side of her freshly shaved pussy.

I broke our kiss and whispered, "You're dripping already."

"Will you shut up and put that big cock of yours in me already!"

And I grabbed hold of the shaft, positioning its fat, mushroom head snuggly against her lips, and shoved my hard cock balls deep into my beautiful step-sister's velvety pussy.

Chapter 2

My story begins growing up in the picturesque village of Cape Bonita, a small beach town, sometimes known as Bonita Pines, because of the southern live oaks that populate the surrounding hills that run down to our world-class beaches and popular surf spots.

Cape Bonita is filled with friendly, local store owners, safe, pleasant neighborhoods, and parks and attractions. There is natural beauty everywhere: lush vegetation like colorful Lantana flowers, the eye-catching beautyberry, the coral honeysuckle known for its red flowers, our ubiquitous palm trees, and many others, all joining the southern live oak from which it gets its nickname. We're surrounded by the natural beauty of mountains to the east and crystal clear ocean waters to the west, and what's called "sugar sand" beaches that seem to stretch for miles. And it's a welcoming community with open arms and families of all kinds, including ours.

For years it had been dad and me living by ourselves and doing fine in the suburban paradise of Cape Bonita in our three bedroom house on the cul-de-sac with the ping-pong table in the basement, the pool in the back, and our golden retriever, Brownie, my closest and best friend, by my side.

Mom died in a head-on crash when I was only five, killed by a drunk driver who walked away from the wreck with barely a scratch and no prison time, even though I was sentenced to a lifetime without my mother's love.

Despite that, Dad and I had a great life together. He owned his own business, and it was large enough that we could spend quality time together but not so big that he had to be in the office every moment of the day. Most nights, we had dinner together, dad always found the time to coach my Little League teams, and we had many memorable trips together. I loved the beach and was learning to surf, but my favorite was the tent camping trips in the state parks and also the backwoods of the mountains high above Cape Bonita with Brownie always by our side. Thanks to dad, I became a pretty good outdoorsman, proficient with a tent, and a campfire, not to mention fishing, especially fly fishing in both river and lake. I love camping and the woods.

In the summer before my 7^th grade year, way before I started to notice girls more than camping and fishing, the Tanners moved next door. Margie, a divorced mother of two, was a svelte blonde with a sweet personality and a welcoming smile. She had two daughters. Her older daughter, Andrea, or "Andi," was a jock and a year younger entering 6th grade, and her younger daughter Jessica, or "Jess" to family and friends, was a geeky girl in baggy sweaters and glasses.

Sharing a simple wooden fence and since we were the house with the pool and other fun things like ping-pong and a great dog, it didn't take long for the three of us kids to become friends with a lot of playing around the pool, kid stuff, and some general rough-housing between Andi and me. Hey, I've got to say she had one hell of an arm and threw a ball pretty well for a girl.

Dad even built a special "hidden" door in the fence behind the grapefruit tree for the three of us to run back and forth to each other's homes after the grownups got tired of our constant door knocking.

As much as Andi and Jess enjoyed our rec room and pool, I loved hanging out in the Tanners' house. Jess was such a geek that by the age of nine, she had accumulated a sizable library of video games that the two of us played whenever allowed, with Andi joining in on occasion. On the other hand, Andi's "playroom" was the family gym where she worked out daily in hopes of being in The Olympics one day. I joined in working out on the equipment, too, and spotted her on occasion.

But we did more than play together. School work interfered with that!

I was good in the humanities parts of school, like English and history, and Jess was a certified math whiz. I never would have passed middle school geometry without her help, and Andi was your basic all-around A-student who would share her homework with the two of us when she felt like it.

In no time at all, it was as if we were brother and sisters.

Dad and Margie hit it off too. Which was to be expected -- I suppose -- since Dad had noticed Margie standing on the front curb the day they moved in.

Chapter 3

The moving truck was finally almost empty on this sweltering day. Margie Tanner stood on the curb in front of her new house, watching the young men lug the furniture and boxes out. It was hot, hell hot, and both guys were shirtless. She watched their strapping, muscular, young bodies as they glistened in the sun from the sweat of their labor.

There was a stirring in her loins as she admired the firm pecs, tight asses, and especially the large package inside the jeans of the one name Bill who rather obviously tucked his big hunk of meat to the left side of his Wrangler's.

"Where would you like this, ma'am?" asked Bill as he helped his co-worker lift up a queen-sized mattress.

"Under my ass with you on top of me," thought Margie. "The large bedroom to the right of the stairs," she replied. "And it's 'Margie,' she said for the upteenth time.

"Yes, ma'am," said Bill as they started walking towards the house as Margie admired his rock-tight buns flexing in his snug fitting jeans.

Sure she was the mother of two great girls, but you'd never know it looking at her. At 31, Margie looked like a college freshman. She had always been blessed with good genes, and the three trips a week to the gym and the hundreds of hours on the Stairmaster showed in her svelte figure and hot looking ass. And to be honest, after her second daughter was born, she had taken some of the inheritance she received when her father died and sprung for a tummy tuck. The recovery from the surgery hurt, but to Margie, it was completely worth it to finally take away the sag from the second baby and that nagging seven pounds of pregnancy fat she couldn't diet or exercise away.

She had read in a magazine that a woman's sex drive peaked at 33. Well, she had a couple of years before she hit 33, but her sex drive was revving higher than it had ever been, and the summit was a long way away. Maybe it was because she hadn't been laid in months, but it seemed that all she thought about nowadays was sex. Sucking cock, getting eaten out until she came, fucking like bunnies, even rolling onto her hands and knees and taking a hard, throbbing cock up her ass until it shot deep inside her.

Drooling over Bill's sexy butt, that warm feeling of desire radiated up into her belly as her sensitive clit quivered in anticipation. Margie allowed the indulgence of the fantasy to flow over her. She could easily imagine herself teasing him. Letting her boob "accidentally" slip on display for a moment, leaning over to get another beer for him, and brushing her ass against his arm as opening the fridge. Then walking over to Bill, throwing her leg over his as she sat in his lap, ground her crotch into his growing bulge, and kissed him with the white-hot urgency of desire that was shooting out of her as she rubbed her hand over his hairy chest.

"Errrr... Ma'am, ma'am, we're getting ready to wrap up."

Margie looked up at the voice, breaking her out of her trance, and realized Bill was staring because her hand had snuck inside her pocket and was lightly teasing her clit.

"Oh. Right," she said. "Ah, yes. I suppose we need to settle up. Why don't you come in when you're ready? I'll grab you a beer and also write you a check."

Standing in the kitchen with his shirt back on, Bill was hot and sweaty, smelling animalistic like a men's locker room. All man like Stanley Kowalski in "A Streetcar Named Desire" as he gulped down his beer. He had been checking out Margie most of the day, and she was one foxy lady. A great rack, long legs in her short shorts, and some kinda ass. He wondered if she shaved her pussy bare as he stole another look at her crotch and then up to her cleavage, lusting after her while he rolled the cold glass of the bottle against his forehead to cool himself off. Margie caught the glance and smiled to herself as he adjusted his bulging hardon in his sweat drenched jeans.

She reached into the fridge, taking an exceptionally long time to bend over, smoothing her shorts against her buns, and grabbed another beer to hand to Bill. He took it as she pushed him roughly against the wall.

"What the fuc..." he started to spit out.

"Shut up and listen to me. We don't have a lot of time. I haven't had sex in nearly six months. Six months! I need to get laid. I mean, I need to get seriously fucked. Your jeans say you are hung like a horse and rock hard."

He started to speak.

"I said shut up. I want you to shove your big horse cock in me and make me cum, and I want you to do it right now. Do you understand? I need you to fuck me right now."

She tore his jeans open and pulled them along with his boxers to the floor.

"God, it's bigger than I thought!"

And she grabbed his cock, dropped to her knees, and began to suck him furiously while she frantically ripped her clothes off. Her passion exploded as she smelled his groin's muskiness. The sweat from his heaving body dripped down onto her hair and face.

Grabbing the thick shaft with both hands, she started jerking him off in rhythm with her widely stretched mouth and tight lips going up and down his cock, gobbling it as her tongue rolled around the ridge and the enraged purple glans. It was the fattest one she had ever sucked, and she was having a difficult time suppressing her gag reflex as she took his length as far down her throat as she could -- his heavy balls banged against her chin.

She cupped his sack, weighing his balls with a practiced hand as her mouth pulled back from the swollen head, "Jeez, these boys are heavy and full." She weighed them a bit more, "I bet you shoot one hell of a load, Big Boy."

And she flung herself onto the kitchen table, spread her legs showing her shaved, dripping pussy, and said, "Put that big cock in me right now, fuck me hard, and make me cum. Come on! Give it to me," as she grabbed his ass with both hands and shoved him in balls deep in one stroke.

"Oh! Fuck, that's big."

And he started to fuck her, pumping in and out, meaning business. He had no idea why this was happening to him, but if this babe wanted to fuck he was going to fuck her and fuck her good pistoning his throbbing cock into her cunt as hard as possible. His massive balls -- that by this time were so engorged with sperm they hurt -- pounding against her ass as he slammed into her again and again.

"Rub my clit, God Damn it!"

He did, and Margie started to cum. Screaming over and over, "Cum in me. Shoot your spunk me! Cum in me now!" as he jammed himself into her, shooting wad after wad of hot, thick cum into the deepest regions of her womb.

Spent, he was laying down upon her soft breasts when his partner Carlos stepped in, saying, "Come on, Bill. We're gonna be late for that afternoon job on Magnolia Street. Oh shit. Errr, ahh, I'll meet you outside."

Their laughing caused his softening cock to pop out, pulling the product of his orgasm with him, causing his cum to seep onto the table in thick puddles of cream.

"She held his sweaty, unshaven face and said, "Thanks. You're a great fuck. That's exactly what I needed," and kissed him for emphasis. Then she reached down, grabbed two fingers full of cum, and greedily sucked it into her mouth, swallowing all of the salty goodness.

Back on the curb with the moving receipt in her hand and Carlos staring at her once again dressed boobs, a grinning Bill said, "Thanks for the tip, ma'am. We'd appreciate a good recommendation on the company survey you'll get by email later in the day."

"Don't worry, honey. I'll give you five stars," and she watched them hop into their rig and start to head down the street to their next job. It was then that she noticed the tall, good-looking man standing behind her on the lawn next door.

"Hi," he said. "You must be the new neighbor."

"Guilty as charged," she laughed. "And who might you be?"

And dad stepped over to extend his hand, "Hi, I'm Jimmy Bennett. It's very nice to meet you. Let me be the first to say, welcome to the neighborhood."

Chapter 4

Ever since our super grouchy neighbor, Old Man Sullivan, died, dad and I had been waiting to see who'd buy the house next door. I was hoping for a boy my age to pal around with and get into good old fashioned mischief together. Dad just wanted someone quiet who was pleasant and actually mowed their front lawn on occasion.

I didn't get my boy pal, but neither of us was disappointed by having the Tanners as neighbors. Sometimes a thunderbolt strikes you. Who knows why? Maybe Zeus or Aphrodite knew, but for whatever reason standing there on his front lawn getting his mail, dad was struck by a thunderbolt at the sight of Margie Tanner. And who wouldn't? Standing before him was a tall, strawberry blonde with her hair pulled back in a ponytail like a college cheerleader, large natural breasts in a damp t-shirt that barely covered them, a pert ass that demanded attention, and long, golden legs that would make the Pope sin. He stood there transfixed like a tongue-tied high school boy at his first dance, gob-smacked by her radiant beauty.

As I said, the girls and I instantly became thick as thieves, and soon after the Tanners moved in, Margie and dad were having afternoon coffee talking about the kids, work, and everyday life, eventually progressing to cocktail hour together in no time at all.

I don't think dad knew I could see them reflected in the sliding glass door the first time he leaned over to kiss her. I told the girls; we all giggled and ran over to their house to play video games. It wouldn't surprise me now if Margie and dad took advantage of their "alone time" to get better acquainted.

By my 11^th grade year, dad and Margie were married, Andi and Jess were truly my sisters, and our camping trips now were for five with three tents on different sides of the campground separated by the campfire.

That's okay. It suited me. I always liked my solitude in the woods and would frequently sneak out the back of my tent early, right before sunlight, to secure the best fishing spot on the river.

When dad and I first started camping, we were in old-school pup tents designed for backpacking. As I got older and tent design progressed, we moved up to a two person dome style tent that you could stand in. Now we had three different types of dome tents. Margie and dad had their own, of course, and the girls shared one, and I was off by myself in a terrific Coleman dark blue colored "Skydome" all my own. I loved it. Lightweight, plenty of room for my fishing stuff, plus everything else, and with the flaps down, it provided all of the privacy I desired.

Most nights, we all had to be in our tents by 9:30 for quiet time and lights out by 10pm, but dad and Margie didn't really check up on us too much after lights out. I was always able to sneak under my sleeping bag with a flashlight and my favorite graphic novel of the moment, like tonight. As it turned out, I wasn't the only one who enjoyed privacy in their tent...

--#--#--

In their tent on the far side of the camp, Jimmy had taken off his hiking shorts and jock and was switching into his camping PJs.

"Hey Buster, quit your lollygagging and get your butt in here?" stage-whispered Margie from their two-person sleeping bag as she admired the hunk she was lucky enough to marry.