Go West, Young Man! Pt. 04

Later at dinner, Tracy appeared in sweatpants and a long tee, wearing a bra and a very guilty and puzzling look. With Jeff in the next room, she passed behind me and cupped my ass. I nearly jumped through the roof. Apparently in the throes of passion, I had shouted-out her name in a very explicit, passionate way. And she heard it. And even tiptoed to my door to see if I was okay, that must have been when I was writhing naked on the sheets. Her right hand still gripped my butt cheek when she whispered, "You should really close your door or talk into the pillow, like I do. But I hope atleast , it was good for you. I thought it was exciting to watch you, and it gave me a story for bedtime." She had a lusty smile, but still spoke quietly in my ear, "Jeff said that he was going out after dinner, maybe then we should talk."

Dinner was a quiet affair, and honestly I don't even remember what we had and I think I cooked. Neither Tracy nor I talked much and Jeff must have been bored with us. He was in some sort of beach volleyball league, so he mentioned that after the games that he would probably go to a local bar with his teammates and that we shouldn't wait up for him. He winked at me as he left and told us both that if we were still awake he would come home and kiss us goodnight.

We washed the dishes and opened a bottle of wine, then sat on the patio to watch the night settle in. Out there in the anonymity of darkness, and with the bracing effect of alcohol, the conversation eventually came around to this afternoon's episode. We both muttered some silly excuses and feigned ignorance of any hidden feelings. More wine was decanted and the small talk sputtered to an ominous stillness. The porch was in shadow and we heard the distant stir of The Pacific. All seemed calm. Tracy surprised me when she blurted, "Do you often masturbate during the day?" I was completely shocked at the ease with which she asked such an explosive question. I gulped down my drink and sputtered for a response. she reached over and refilled my glass and then broke the awkward silence that her inquiry engendered. "I always wait until bedtime. I guess that comes from having a boy in the house." She paused and considered her reasoning. But then went on with her thoughts. "But today, after I felt your hands on my tits, I had to run and find that new toy. All I could think about was when we were young and use to sleep in the same bed. Especially when I heard you cry out." That's when she told me about seeing me playing with my pussy. "I didn't get to finish, because I was worried about you, but you seemed alright." I almost apologized for ruining her masturbation fantasy, then I caught the sentence about us in the same bed when we were kids, and the first adventures that I had with sex. A jumble of sexual images and perversions rushed into my mind. I was having difficulty telling history from fantasy.

Why hadn't I remembered that? Tracy's body was the first one other than my own, that I had ever touched. I was about ten when we began to explore our bodies in the way that siblings sometimes do. It just came back to me, the image of my sister's well developed chest while I was still relatively flat. And the full, wiry bush that she let me run my fingers through, when mine was hairless. I never knew that we would grow hair down there. We started with chaste kisses, and the expression of "kissing your sister" is as disappointing as it sounds. Then we cuddled together and took turns undressing before each other. It was all harmless and mostly silly. She probably felt awkward playing with a prepubescent child, and I was totally flabbergasted that her body parts looked so different than my own. But it was my fascination with her velvety pubic hair, and the seeming pleasure that she received from my strumming her plump mound, that led to my nightly petting of her pussy.

Then she asked me to insert a finger into her pee-hole, I thought it was terribly gross. I hesitated and she took my hand in hers and placed it at the small entrance. I gingerly poked at the warm area. She explained that the sticky wetness I was feeling for the first time was just natural. It made her squirm and squeal. She told me that it was a pleasurable experience and that I would enjoy it too, when she did it to me. Then she convinced me to reach deeper inside of her and to wiggle my fingers. I was entranced with her reaction but I didn't really get much out of it at the time. She introduced me to sucking and kissing those nice breasts. I liked doing that. She said I could do it every night aslong as I fingered her pussy first. So it became our bedtime ritual that I was "allowed" to play with those giant jugs after I patted and rubbed her vagina until the juices flowed.

It was all coming back to me in a slightly silly yet mortifying manner. I can still picture that expansive growth of coal-black curls framing a darkened hollow with shiny, pink edging. I was instructed to kiss those mysterious lips and I sensed for the first time ever, what another person's aroma and orifices were like. I would feel the firm grip of her hand on my neck as her bucking got stronger and she centered my tongue on her elusive target. She convinced me to use more of my halting tongue to wet the inner folds with it's raspy, flat surface. And then I was to point the tip of it, and jab it into her warm, acidic cavern. I remember the awful sensation of plucking coarse, black pubic hairs from my mouth after she shook so violently that I was afraid I had bit her.

I didn't understand the euphoric reaction, and when later she attempted the same maneuvers on me, I was too shy and under-developed to appreciate it. She had me service her in this way every evening for that first summer. She taught me the technique to finger her vagina and anus, and to lick her to orgasm on most nights. I often fell asleep with my head on her breast after suckling her nipples. I was content with her closeness and she found relief in my ministrations. How could I have forgotten all of that? She taught me how to pleasure her. She groomed me for sex... Hey wait, was it Tracy that introduced me to Dom/Sub sex? Could it be that I was just passed from mother to son? Am I just overthinking everything?

When my brain cleared and my eyes refocused to the surrounding darkness after my trip of rediscovery down memory lane, I noticed that she was standing over me with my palm in her hand. At first she had stood by my side holding my hand when she saw me reflecting on our youth. Now she stood with her legs slightly parted and the front of her sweatpants rolled down. She placed my upturned hand at the closely cropped mound between her creamy thighs. When I felt the moist heat emanating from her enticing opening, and the viscous fluid oozing along my fingertips, I quivered and uttered a deep sigh.

Tracy smiled down at me and her hand pressed my fingers into the slippery, supple entrance to her torrid twat. She saw the desperate indecision in my eyes and motioned my hand further, easing two digits into the warm folds and jockeying them back and forth until the soothing suction held them fast. As I fingered her steamy snatch, she lifted the hem of my shirt and revealed my sweaty, heaving boobs. Her hand roamed my chest and the fingers pinched and twiddled my raw nipples. In lieu of any further discussion, she simply smiled and I nodded my head in agreement.

With both of us excited and near the bursting point, she took me by the hand and led me to her bed. It was as simple as that. She laid back on the sheets and lowered her pants. I watched in stunned silence, the sensuous display presented to me. She rummaged through her drawer for the vibrator with the large, rotating head, and set the speed on high. She instantly and expertly plied the humming tool against the exposed, straining nub of her swollen clit. I was still standing by the bed, just admiring her ease and passion. I mumbled something vague about, "Are you sure that this is the right thing to do?" Even as my inner voice was screaming for her luscious body.

Then she told me to strip. I have heard that so many times in the past six months, that I naturally wrestled my tight, wet tee over my head. When I smoothed down my tangled mop of sweaty hair and self consciously attempted to conceal my pouty nipples and jiggling breasts with my arm, it occurred to me how strange it felt to hear that firm command coming from the delicate, lady-like voice of my sister. But then her tone changed in it's intensity and her words became more biting.

"Don't cover yourself," she ordered," "I want to have a look at you, now that you're all grown up." A cold chill rippled my topless frame. I was being reduced, in my mind, to a preteen with 34Ds. "Cup your tits for me and pinch those pink nipples." I did as she directed. "Squeeze them harder, I want to see those nips stand up." Again, I followed her directives, shaken a bit at the unfamiliar voice but the arousal in my belly was telling me that this was just the type of sexual degradation that my submissive psyche yearned for. What troubled me, was how she had read the signs so easily, her son too.

It was as if she could see straight through me. I was a kid again listening and hoping for sexual guidance from my big sister. She would never hurt me or disappoint me. Tracy knew exactly what I needed. Some people I suppose, just feel more free when they are unburdened from making difficult decisions. I decide budgets and set priorities at work, and I worry every time about my choices. How could I choose to have incestuous sex with my nephew and then with my sister? But my body was screaming-out for it. I know I wanted it, I just needed that extra push, someone to make the decisions, someone to tell me what to do.

Tracy sat up in the bed and seductively eased the shirt over her head. Her dark hair fell in fluffy, rumpled sheets on her delicate shoulders. She unsnapped the full, lacy bra that harbored her ample bust. The thin straps slid tantalizingly slow from her arms, stopping for a second at her elbows and continued to conceal the entire round orbs from my eyes. I ached to finally see them unencumbered from any further distraction. She saw me plainly staring at her magnificent bust, and her wicked smile demonstrated to me that she would be no easy mistress. Her bare hand reached under the scalloped edging of the cup and fondled her breast under the gossamer fabric, as lovely an image as it was and as sexy as could be, still I wanted to see her completely naked body. My own body was responding to her erotic show; perspiration broke out on me, my nipples poked through my light top, my breathing was a series of short gasping breaths, and my legs trembled under me as I my fingers crawled beneath the damp elastic of my undies and wormed their path towards my "Y." She effortlessly let the translucent material of her under garment fall to her lap and then whisked it aside. She sat before my eyes in all of her naked beauty. I was transfixed.

Her simple but highly erotic movements captured my attention and hooked me to her line. I was rubbing the kinky hairs of my pussy, with each upstroke my palm roughly abraded the sensitive tip of my puffy clit, sending shock waves of excitement trough my hungry anatomy. She raised her knees and resumed the rotating motion over her wide-open genital area, her moist hand by now having replaced the vibrator. Her fingers would stretch the pink lips apart giving me a fleeting glance at the taboo prize at a mere arms-length away. Her glistening labia peeked through the finely matted fur and her long fingers massaged the stout knob, growing redder and more shiny with each contact. Her other hand cradled one hefty breast in her grip, weighing and kneading the bouncing mammary.

My mouth fell open and slobber dripped helplessly from my lips to my chin. My eyes grew wide, even in the porn films Jeff had me view, I have never seen a more exotic performance. A beautiful woman, entirely nude, sprawled on a bed inches away, and sensuously plying her finger across her full-bodied form, just to tease and entice me. I was totally captivated, eager to take-in the sexual carnival laid out before me. "You like what you see?" She questioned me in a throaty seductive tone. I could only nod my head dumbly, one hand tucked between my thighs bringing my internal furnace to a boiling pitch. "Step out of your shorts, I want to see your pussy now." My thumbs automatically reached under the elastic of my panties and I shimmied the damp material down my goose-bumped legs. At last I stood before my older sister; trembling, completely naked, and waiting with a feverish desire to be told what to do next, hoping only that I had the strength and resolve to carry-on.

As much as my eyes roamed over her entire gorgeous anatomy, marveling at the ease in which she toyed with her erogenous zones, she was studying my every small movement. I had stood naked infront of her son on many occasions, shrinking from his leering inspections and sometimes withering critique. He would say my tits sagged or my pussy needed trimmed, or that he only mercy-fucked me, and I would beg him-as he knew I would- to be allowed to please him orally, anally, and often. It was a game, and a roleplay that we knew well. But here, I was lost for direction. I truly wished that Tracy liked what she was so carefully sizing-up. My fingers stopped their frantic strumming of my agonized clit, at just the moment of it's eruption. I worried that she would see me as a little girl again, when I wanted to prove that I was a fully grown and willing sexual partner.

Her eyes moved steadily along my frazzled form, all the while her sticky fingers tickled the swollen nub peeking from it's protective hood. A long, slow moan of desperation escaped my anxious lips, and my legs trembled. The roiling thunder of emotion was building in my uterus, on the very brink of a tidal wave. I silently appealed to her for guidance and release.

"Are you going to cum for me, Julie?" Her husky, alcohol-tinged voice subtly accused me. I was frozen in place beside the bed, mumbling incoherent replies to her every knowing question. "You want my cunt, don't you? Just like when you were a girl?" My mind was reeling. And she played on my confusion. "Do it," she commanded, "make yourself cum for me and tell me you're my bitch." My orgasm came on strong with the next light touch of my finger and I rubbed my wet hand over the flooding gash between my thighs. My knees buckled and I slowly collapsed to the carpet. My twisted body was racked with crippling convulsions and I shivered and drooled on the floor. The fluids drained from my body like a plug had been pulled. I was completely captured under her erotic spell. My limp, quivering torso laid crumpled in a delirious ecstasy at the foot of the bed and through teary, slit eyes I saw her purplish pussy lips spread wide and the pouty knob straining.

"Come up here bitch, and lick my cunt!" The sharp epithets had a strange effect on me. It's hard to be submissive, when treated like an equal. I craved the debasing sting of such crude language commanding me to accept any order. I crawled onto the mattress and laid prone between her solid thighs. My chest was still heaving, trying to recover my breathing, when I felt her fierce grip in my knotted mane of sweaty, black tussles. I unconsciously wetted my lips and sucked in the saliva puddling in my mouth. I could smell her fragrance and examine her tender folds. She grabbed my damp locks, positioning my gaping mouth over her exposed clit. "Kiss it Julie. Kiss it and lick it like it was your favorite treat. Because that's what it will become. You're my bitch now, my little cunt-licking bitch. Eat me now."

The sensuous sensations washed over me. Was it the repressed memories of years gone by or was it the forbidden fantasies recently triggered by her very own son, compelling me to follow the explicit, lewd commands to service both my sister and my nephew? She held my sweaty hair in her tight grip and I could taste in my mouth and nose, the pungent aroma of her womanhood. Was I just a cunt-eating slut now? It didn't matter, I was where I wanted to be!

"Lick me you dirty bitch," I heard her hardened demand uttered through the ardent plea to feel the ultimate climax, she needed me as much as I wanted her. But it was the power dynamic that made it all possible, and magical. The growing sense of domination was realized when she saw how easily and favorably I responded to her forceful direction. "Use your tongue on me, and swallow. I'm going to cream your face and I want to feel your fingers inside me too. I want you to fuck me as your sucking." I was totally lost in the erotic thrill of Tracy forcing me-no, instructing me- to employ my limited oral practices in the service to another woman. I mumbled a few stuttering remarks, assuring her that I was willing to comply but uncertain of my skill level. And I plunged forward.

I could determine immediately the difference between this cunnilingus and the fellatio that I had perfected these past months. With a cock in my mouth, I mostly had to avoid biting down and just continue to bob my head. Keeping it lubricated was the biggest concern and controlling the spurt so that I was not blinded. Eating pussy was different. There was nothing actually in your mouth and the tiny object of pleasure was sometimes elusive. Wetness wasn't a problem unless my mouth went dry, and her pussy was like a river overflowing it's banks. But where I could control Jeff's erection and anticipate his orgasm, this was a complete mystery. I never knew when she would come, and at this time, I didn't know a thing about her. A woman can squirm and thrash for ten minutes and keep insisting only, that she's getting close. And any little distraction can start the process back to the beginning, a guy is ready at all times.

With my shaky, sticky fingers I hesitantly parted the puffy outer lips, exposing the deep, tight cavity of her vagina. When I pushed a shy digit inside, the moist folds clenched it, vice-like. I wiggled it and moved it slowly back and forth. Tracy's neck craned forward and the abdominal muscles rippled as she strained to watch, prepared to teach me the finer techniques. Her body reacted to my amateurish touch. "Push harder Julie, and use another finger, it will loosen up, the more you push. And my ass too." That was something new, Jeff never asked for that. "And lick my clit, you dirty cunt." She was demanding in her wishes but almost incoherent in expression. I must have been learning correctly, because her shouted orders faded to a throaty, stilted wail. The grasp on my hair tightened like she was yanking it out by the roots. Her strong thighs pressed against the sides of my head, hurting my ears and filtering out the screams.

After a couple more deliberate strokes the lubrication of her narrow love tunnel seemed to welcome the invasion of my prospecting fingers. The third digit plying the clenched entrance to her butt was now granted admittance, and it began to slide in and out, causing her firm cheeks to spring off the sheets and gyrate wildly. I peeked up at her as the filthy utterances became more of a slow, husky pleading. Her head lulled back against the pillows and her eyes closed in a dreamy state. While I kissed and licked at the swollen knob in front, my fingers were churning both openings and her body writhed in delirium. Her hand eased on my head and she continually moaned, "Right there, right there, yes, yes, yes, awwwwww." The flood of juices poured into my throat and her rear-end relaxed allowing my finger passage up to the knuckles. I tasted the creamy saccharine solution and the rest flooded my wrist. I spread her pussy juices around the star-shaped, puckered rear passage that still held me firm. Her quiet moans were now a soft trilling mew and her body melted into the sheets, only the spasms in her belly and loins were evident.