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"Just thought you might wanta little taste a' that, cher..." and snickered as she closed the door.
Neither Bert nor I spoke in Blondie's brief absence. When she came out a few minutes later, she sat on the edge of the bed where her naked brother lay with his eyes drooping. Noting that it was well past one o'clock, she suggested that we get some sleep as it appeared Bert was going to need some rest before performing again. Glancing at me she asked,
"Does that couch fold out into a bed?" and when I nodded, she suggested, "Well why don't you sleep there, sugar, an' give us jeunes mariés (honeymooners) the bed..." and after a beat,
"Just in case mon trop sexué frère (my oversexed brother) wakes up later wantin' to give me a little encore, d'accord, cher?"
Grinning impishly, she chuckled, "Remember, I told you...he can wake up feelin' real frisky any time of the night...a lesson this girl learned well sleepin' with this big boy pokin' me in the butt almost every night..." She reached out, tapping his limp cock, sighing fondly, "For the sexiest month a' my life."
She winked, "An' you know me—I'm the kinda girl who's always found it very hard to turn down a hard dick pokin' me in the butt no matter what time it is."
As I drifted off to sleep on the folded-out sofa, I found myself wondering if their shared hypersexuality might not be genetic...and as if to add weight to that supposition, I awoke in the dark a couple of hours later to the gasps, groans and moans of my little wife giving up that tight pussy once again to her trop sexué sibling.
Blondie woke me around seven, asking if I wanted to come sleep in the bed, telling me Bertie had gone on a traditional family holiday pilgrimage to Plaquemines Parish with some cousins to buy several bushels of fresh oysters right off the boat for the family's holiday feasting. As I sleepily crawled between the sheets, trying to digest all that information, I inadvertently put my hand in a large wet spot on the mattress and recoiled, exclaiming in disbelief,
"Are you fucking kidding me? You guys fucked again? And he had enough semen left in him to make a come-spot like this?"
Blondie chuckled, "Like I told you, darlin', he's always been like that...comes a lot...an' comes often...doesn't take him long to recuperate. You oughtta try dealin' with that for a whole month, cher. At least we were quiet this mornin' an' didn't wake you up."
As she lay back and closed her eyes, she sighed, "Remember back in Texas how I was so confident I could handle that buncha young Mexican studs in my first gangbang?" She sighed again tiredly, "Can't you see why now?" (Literotica story: Blondie's First Gangbang)
Reaching over, she took my hand and placed it between her legs, tittering, "Feel that an' tell me he didn't have enough stuff to make a spot that big, cher."
Her snatch was slick with semen and as my extended fingers brushed her clit, her body shuddered and she let out a gasp that turned to a moan as my middle finger slid into her with no resistance. I grinned at her, shaking my head in amazement,
"Your brother is a fucking machine, literally."
She opened one eye in a narrow slit and teased, "Vous pensiez que j'exagérais, n'est-ce pas (you thought I was exaggerating, didn't you)?" Locking her fingers behind her head on her pillow, she winked impishly and crooned,
"An' on top of bein' able to get it up an' keep it up an' come over an' over..." She waited a beat, then smirked as she pointed to her muff, "Like this..." then drawled with smug accomplishment,
"He still fucks me as good or better than anybody's ever fucked me. Darlin. Of course havin' you watch him do it added to my excitement, je suis certain (I'm sure)."
After a quiet moment, she looked into my eyes, searching, "What was it like, watchin' me screw my brother? Was it as excitin' as you expected, babe?"
"It was absolutely the most erotic thing I've ever seen you do, Blondie, absolutely," I replied.
With a devastatingly wicked smile, she spread her legs wider and inquired innocently, "You interested in doin' your usual little early mornin' cleanup job, sweetie pie?"
When I gave her a bleary-eyed, 'you gotta be kidding me' look, she teased with a saucy wink,
"Be the first time you ever cleaned me up after my brother, sugar—that's somethin' different."
She was right of course—it was indeed a memorable morning—we'd shared many such sensual sunup situations when her muff was a mess from a goodbye fuck she'd just given a departing overnight guest and in need of my oral attentions, but never before had the leaving lover been her very own brother. It was assuredly an occasion we would remember and mumbling my drowsy agreement, I positioned myself between her legs where the musky scents of their recent sibling lovemaking were heady indeed.
He'd left a mess for sure and as I set to the task of licking my lovely slut clean she gasped,
Which I proceeded to do, and although still somewhat groggy from lack of sleep, the familiar, pungent, ammoniac aroma and salty taste soon had me tongue-bathing her furry vulva and her now erect pink bud of a clit. Blondie grasped my head firmly and began fucking my face with furious abandon.
"Mon Dieu, I just spent the night fuckin' mon grand frère (my big brother) an' it felt so wonderful! Merci mon amour (Thank you, my love), merci, merci, merci! It was so good to have his big ol' cock inside me once again...il me baise si bien (he fucks me so good)!"
Reliving the night's incestual adventures, it took her a bit less than ten minutes to reach her first quaking orgasm, followed by a continuing series of tectonic aftershocks that persisted for another twenty or more minutes. When she went quiet, I realized she'd dozed off so I did as well.
We awoke around ten-thirty and were at the house by two. Blondie was radiantly beautiful, as always, in a cream and beige corded sweater and smoothly tight. brown leather pants that, along with the lift from her sexy high-heeled, tan suede boots, showed off her lovely ass nicely. She had her long blonde tresses rather carelessly pinned up off her neck in a fashion I found almost inexpressibly erotic, nearly fetishistic in its compelling sensual appeal.
In an effort to outshine her mother, she was heavily adorned in gleaming gold and sparkling diamond jewelry. She was voluptuously ravishing and followed by many pairs of appraising male eyes...including a couple of lecherous old Cajun uncles...but most especially by those of her brother, who wore a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin the entire day.
These Acadian Christmas gatherings were conducted more or less like open-house affairs with constant comings and goings by friends and relatives, near and distant, with endless, quickly forgotten introductions...so I was unsurprised to feel Blondie pluck my arm and say brightly,
"Sugar, here's somebody I want you to meet...an old an' very special friend."
Turning, I found myself looking down at a rather primly handsome, somewhat nervous, little fellow...no taller than my wife...actually shorter with his close-cropped brown hair and her with all those blonde tresses piled up on top like that. He wore expensive, gold-rimmed glasses over his brown eyes that lent him a rather studious, professorial look, added to by a Pendleton plaid wool shirt under an elbow-patched tweed jacket...tan corduroy trousers and suede desert boots. I caught a whiff of Paco Rabanne cologne. He looked very much the Texas petroleum engineer.
My beaming Blondie had her arm around his waist, pulling him close...hips welded together.
"Rick, this is Wes...a dear, sweet friend Bertie an' I grew up with...his folks have that white colonial just catty-corner across the street. He's in from Dallas for the holidays."
We shook hands and I was unprepared for the deeper than expected baritone timbre of his voice. As we exchanged pleasantries, Blondie kept her hand possessively on his hip, hugging him close as she chattered gaily,
"Wes an' Bertie an' I had some real fun times together..." She gave him a penetrating look as she murmured, "Times I really enjoyed..." She actually ran that tempting tongue over her full, lush bottom lip as she purred, "An' have never, ever forgotten..."
She released her hold on his waist...resting her hand on his shoulder as she purred sexily,
"An as I was just tellin' him in our little chat back in my old bedroom..." she teased, "Where we made lots of those memories...those were times I wish the three of us could re-live...that we really ought to re-live." She idly raked the long crimson nail of her forefinger behind his ear.
Looking around, I was relieved to see no one paying attention to Blondie's flagrant flirting, fueled, no doubt, by the free-flowing alcohol and holiday party atmosphere.
The two of them were eyeing each other like pieces of rare and delicious candy as she said,
"So, if you don't mind, cher, I've invited Wes to join us...an' Bertie, bien sûr (of course), for drinks at the hotel to see how we might do somethin' about that...like maybe havin' ourselves a fun little holiday reunion, with you there, too, of course, d'accord?"
She ran that red nail seductively along his jawline as she confirmed, "An' yes, cher, I've already explained that you are a very understandin' husband, an' although he's never done anything like that, Wesley thinks he can be comfortable with it." Smiling provocatively at him, she teased,
"Don't worry, babydoll, I promise you're gonna forget my husband's even there, d'accord?"
For the first time, he smiled and spoke, "As I recollect, Blondie, you could make me forget about everything, even what time to go home for supper."
Tickling his chin with that pointed nail, she whispered, "I'm even better at it now, mon chérie."
When he responded with a smiling, "Je suis sûr que vous êtes (I'm sure you are)," followed by, "Et encore plus beau (And even more beautiful)," I chuckled to myself that at least I wouldn't have to translate for this guy.
Beaming happily at her latest conquest, Blondie glanced at her watch and said in a low voice,
"It's goin' on seven an' I told mama we're goin' to drop by some other parties this evenin...some of my ol' schoolmates." She flashed Wes a bright smile, "An' I'm 'bout ready to get our own little party goin'..." She paused, looking at us impishly, "So if you gentlemen are of a mind to..."
Gesturing toward the kitchen, I said, "Go tell your folks we'll see them sometime tomorrow," then headed to the bedroom for her fur coat,
Minutes later, backing the Caddy out to the street, I chuckled, "Boy, it didn't take any time at all to put that old relationship back on the front burner, did it?"
Positively gloating, my little Southern seductress purred, "Comme tirer sur du poisson dans un tonneau (Like shootin' fish in a barrel) darlin', comme tirer sur du poisson dans un tonneau," making me laugh.
Wanting to learn more of their history I asked how many times she'd screwed this guy.
"I don't know...didn't keep count. Woulda been more but we didn't start until the summer of my senior year. Almost as soon as Bertie an' I started gettin' it on, he started hintin' around about how maybe I should be nice to a coupla his little buddies. He kept pushin' me to do it an' I just kept puttin' him off, sayin' I'd think about, 'til I ran into little Wes at the country club pool after school let out for the summer. Soon as I started talkin' to him. I realized real quick that he was smart as a whip...an' cute as a June bug, too."
She grinned, "Couldn't help but notice his nice little, tanned body...yeah, he was small...but he was well built...an' strong, as I found out later. So the next time Bertie bugged me to put out for his pals, I told him okay, bring Wesley over an' I'd try it with him...but nobody else. He brought him over the very next afternoon an' I fucked 'em both just as soon as Cleo, mama's colored housekeeper, went home for the day."
Still grinning, she continued, "He was a good fuck...so I ended up screwin' that mignon petit diable (cute little devil) the rest of the summer...'til he went off to A&M...so it was a buncha times, I guess. If you remember, I told you I fucked a lot my last year of high school an' I really didn't keep track...so things get kinda blurred after all this time."
She was silent a few minutes, looking out her window at her old home town, then giggled quietly, "I told mama that Bertie's gonna meet us at the hotel an' we're takin' him with us to a coupla parties. She told me that was sooo sweet, still lookin' out for my brother like that."
With a smutty sidelong glance my way she chuckled, "Poor mama...she'd absolutely stroke out if she knew how I looked out for my brother last night...an' this mornin'..." She laughed, "An' how I'm plannin' on doin' it again tonight...along with our neighbor."
When I remarked that she was sure acting horny today for a woman that had sex so many times last night and had already been fucked again this morning, she laughed and said, "That's just the way I am...way I've always been, as you well know...the more dick I get, the more dick I want."
Snickering slyly, she crooned, "Dicks...plural...the more dicks I want."
Bert and Wes had driven themselves to the Marriott and we met in the quiet lobby of the hotel, nearly deserted for the holidays. Wesley was almost goggle-eyed at the sight of my wife as we made our approach, saying,
"Wow, Blondie, you look like a movie star in that fur...it's a fox isn't it?" and when she gave him a beaming affirmation, he said, "How deliciously appropriate: a delectable little fox in her luxuriant white fox."
True to form, as soon as the elevator door closed, Blondie embraced Wes, saying, "This beau diable (handsome devil) gets first kiss," as she pressed her open mouth against his in an immediate and passionate resumption of long-ago intimacy, a kiss that endured until we reached our floor.
Again true to form, Blondie disappeared into the bathroom as soon as we entered the suite. Taking it all in as he walked to the floor-to ceiling-windows, Wes said, "Very nice—impressive view of the city." Turning back to me, he gave a me a shy smile, admitting, "I'm having a hard time believing this is all happening, I assure you, sir."
Looking at Bert, he exclaimed, "And what a real beauty your little sister has grown up to be!"
To me he said, "I mean she was a cutie before...but, my God, sir...your wife is the sexiest woman I've been around in a long time...she simply seethes with sensuality." He grinned sheepishly,
"That's the sexiest kiss I've ever had...that succulent mouth is indescribably voluptuous."
Remembering his witty praise of Blondie in the lobby, and now hearing this, made me smile, thinking to myself, "Well, well, an engineer with some eloquence and a charming vocabulary," but I joked,
"Well thank you, Wes, but as Bert has probably already filled you in, and as that old saying goes,...you ain't seen nuthin' yet, podner."
I had just finished hanging up our jackets and fixing a round of drinks when Blondie summoned me. As I slipped into the suite's larger-than-usual bathroom and set her drink on the long marble counter, she was standing in front of the mirror in the expensive beige scanty-panties she'd been wearing under her leather pants, and the matching bra, holding her hands up to her hair, turning her head from side to side in questioning appraisal.
"Should I let my hair down an' tease it out or keep it pinned up?" When I pointed my finger up, she grinned, saying, "Yeah, I think so, too...looks hot an' classy with the coat, doesn't it?"
Using the pick end of her comb she teased out a long strand in front of each ear and used her waiting curling iron on each, lending her an even more sensual, sophisticated look. Rummaging through her jewelry bag, she extracted a pair of dangling rhinestone earrings that were too gaudy for public wear...unless she was going for the hooker look...and as she leaned forward replacing the diamond studs she'd worn to the party, she smirked,
"Little Wesley seems to like me in mon fourrure de renard (my fox fur) so I think I'll wear it for him...an' nuthin' underneath 'cept maybe these teensy little panties...an' they're already soakin' wet so maybe not them either, hmm?"
When I gave her a brisk thumbs up, she smiled hesitantly, saying a bit contritely, "I know you'd like for me to get all dressed up an' strip for 'em, sugar, but right this minute all your horny little wife wants to do is go in there an' fuck both of 'em 'til they can't get it up any more, comprenez vous (do you understand), cher?"
Again I flashed a thumbs up and she smiled at my easy agreement, "Good...now get me my gold platforms outta the red suitcase an' let's get this little high school reunion goin' d'accord?"
Minutes after I rejoined our guests, Blondie emerged from the bathroom, looking absolutely spectacular. She'd decided to forego even the damp panties and as she approached, she let the hip-length coat fall open enough to confirm her nudity, her trimmed yet ample bush on full display. Wesley's vocabulary deserted him as he blurted out, "Saint putain de merde! (Holy fucking shit!)" then quickly followed that with a muttered, "Sorry...sorry, Blondie...you, too, Rick..."
I laughed, waving off his apology, "I've heard that a lot, Wes," as my gorgeous wife stepped in between him and the coffee table, pulling the coat fully open and placing her hands on her hips, arms akimbo. Wes fell back in his seat and just sat there open-mouthed, gaping at her naked torso...the erect pink nipples on her modest but still firm breasts...and that neatly furred pussy with its roseate lips peeking invitingly through her dark brown pubic hairs. With hands on hips, she jiggled her body enticingly, teasing,
"Think maybe little Blondie's grown up just a tad since the last time you saw her without her clothes on, baby?"
To her utter delight, he was speechless...as were Bert and I...sitting there silently smirking at Wesley's stunned expression. She just stood there reveling in his reaction, finally coaxing him,
"Touch it, mon chérie, go ahead an' touch my pussy, Wes, touch it like you used to, d'accord?"
Cocking an eyebrow at her watching brother, she cooed, "Remember how he loved to finger me?" Then switching her salacious gaze to me, she tittered, "This handsome fella used to fingerfuck your future wife for hours, cher."
When I raised my own eyebrows quizzically, she murmured, "Mmm, hmm, when he'd come over for all-night tutorin' session/sleepovers with Bertie, he'd spend most of the time in bed with Bertie's little sister...fingerin' her tight little pussy...drivin' her wild...makin' her come, over 'n over with those magic fingers..." She reached for his hand, pulling it to her pudenda, "Both before an' after he fucked her."
Blondie's body shuddered as Wes sat forward and began gently rubbing her pussy then she gasped as a finger penetrated her most intimate portal, "Remember how wonderful those times were, mon amour (my love)?"
