Jean Sifton - The peeking sister

"Ooooooohhhh!" June moaned as she felt her orgasm spiraling up from her ecstatically quaking womb, the first climax she had ever had with a man's virilely hardened penis actually inside her… "Oh…! Oh…! Oh…!" she chanted in primitive subjugation to the massive instrument of pleasure she was riding up and down, mashing her insanely palpitating vagina more and more frantically against Axel's thrusting pelvis. Nina's exquisite face and nakedly jiggling breasts swam in front of her passion-glazed eyes, and just as June was on the verge of cumming she deliberately bent forward without breaking the rhythm of her frenzied fucking and seized one of the blonde woman's berry-like nipples between her teeth, nipping and sucking it savagely.

"Aaaaaggghhh, I'm cuuuummmiiinnngg!" Nina screamed, suddenly toppled over into her own boiling orgasm by this unexpected added stimulus, and she dug her fingers hard into June's shoulders, pushing her down even harder on Axel's thick pile-driving cock just as he began spewing his seething jets of heated sperm deep up inside her belly. That triggered the raven-haired girl's own climax and abruptly she was convulsing in the throes of a never-before experienced rapture.

"Aaaaaaaahhhh!" June wailed as the soul-shattering release exploded deep inside her and stormed like gushing torrents through unknown channels in her body into a sea of total ecstasy where she floated away into a deep mindless stupor…

Axel, who had been counting on at least one more round with June, stared perplexedly down at the limp form of the ravishing brunette who had suddenly slumped off his softening cock and apparently passed out cold.

"She just isn't used to it, Axel," Nina answered his unspoken question. "I think you should let her rest up for tomorrow. I'm still here, you know."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Axel concurred reluctantly. Then he winked at his svelte blonde wife and added, "Maybe I should rest up for tomorrow too."

"You bastard," she grinned back at him. "You couldn't if you wanted to."

"Maybe not," he admitted. "But I'm sure glad I happened to buy that farm down near where she lives."

"You think you'll be able to keep her down on the farm now?" Nina asked as she straightened the bed clothes and tenderly covered June up. "I wonder…" And then she said solemnly, "I doubt it…"

The following morning June was awakened by what she thought was the ringing of her old alarm clock at home. God, she felt awful! Her head ached, her mouth was dry and her body felt feverish all over. She must have come down with the flu. She would have to call in sick to the office, and old Mr. Chisolm wouldn't like that one bit. He hadn't been at all pleased when she told him she had to go to New York for a few days…

New York! All the events of the preceding day and night flashed through June's mind, and she sat up so suddenly that the wave of nausea which washed over her made her feel faint. New York! The Bormans! It was all true, she realized, gazing numbly down at the somewhat wrinkled aquamarine comforter which covered her, then around at the spacious room dimly lit by sunlight filtering through the heavy velour curtains. All too true. She had come to the big city, gotten drunk and been seduced by two perfect strangers on the very first day. That must be some kind of an all-time record!

Someone had straightened up the bed covers, she saw. Comforter, blankets, and sheets had all been tangled together the last she remembered them, tangled up like she and Nina and Axel were. God, what had gotten into her? She pressed her wrists into her stinging eyes as if to blackout the debasing images, but to no avail. When finally she opened them again, she noticed a note on the bedside table.

Gone to hairdresser. Back at noon.

They should deliver your suitcase sometime this morning.

Love — Nina

Love! June sniffed self-pityingly to herself. They had the nerve to call that love… that debauch… that orgy they had tricked her into! She had to get out of there before Nina came back. She peered groggily at her wristwatch — the only thing she hadn't taken off last night — and saw that it was already past ten. She never slept that late. They must have drugged her as well as getting her drunk!

Finally June realized that the persistent ringing in her ears wasn't a side product of her awful hangover but a real bell somewhere. Maybe they had brought her suitcase! Then she could get out of the apartment before Nina came back. Quickly, in spite of the agonizing jolts lancing through her head, she jumped out of bed and put on her skirt and blouse which Nina had neatly folded over a chair. At least she hoped it was Nina who had straightened up the room and not some maid. Oh what difference did it make! she scolded herself angrily as she hurried toward the sound of the bell. One stranger or another… Anyway, there must not be anyone else in the apartment or they would have answered the bell. It wasn't the front door, she saw, so there must be a service entrance somewhere. Swiftly in her bare feet she padded through the dining room, a pantry, then a really sumptuous kitchen with every possible labor-saving device in it, and a whole battery of beautifully polished copper pots and pans.

"Who is it?" she called out hesitantly at the back door. Unfortunately there wasn't any peephole to look out through.

"Suitcase for Miss June Wright," replied a high-pitched tenor voice that reminded her vaguely of the bellboy in the old Phillip Morris ad. "Suitcase for Miss June Wright," it repeated on the same note.

"Just leave it there, please," June said. She had read so many stories about what could happen in New York that she was really afraid to open the door… Even though she didn't see how anything worse could possibly happen to her than already had.

"Sorry, Miss, I need a receipt," the nasal voice insisted.

Reluctantly June opened the door and saw a seedy-looking youth in a shabby grey pinstripe suit much too large for him standing there with her suitcase. There was no mistaking that battered old relic from her summer-camp days. Relieved, she opened the door wider, and he pushed brassily past her into the kitchen, pursing his lips in a silent whistle.

"Some set-up ya got here, Miss Wright," he said, looking her insolently up and down from her bare feet to her still disheveled long black hair. "Looks like I got ya out'a bed, huh?"

"That's perfectly all right," June said in a voice that quavered slightly. He wasn't so young after all, she saw now, noticing the lines around his eyes and mouth, and he certainly was a disreputable-looking character. She had taken him for an adolescent at first because he had positively the worst case of acne she had ever seen in her born days. Big pimples… Uhg! "Just give me the receipt and I'll sign it," she added, doing her best to keep the disgust out of her voice.

"The bag wasn't locked so ya gotta verify the contents first," the man said with a half-witted leer. "I might'a stole a bra or a pair of panties or somethin'. Mind if I get myself a drink?"

Thinking he meant a drink of water, June told him to go ahead and bent down to open her suitcase. The sound of a refrigerator door slamming jerked her head up, and she saw that he was holding a lemon and a can of tomato juice in his hands.

"Put that back!" she snapped at him sharply but he just ignored her and strolled into the pantry.

"Ta-ta-ti-ta," he hummed. "Now don't get your bowels in an uproar, babe. You look like you could do with a little hair of the dog yourself. Have a little party last night?" He rummaged around in the pantry a minute, opening and slamming placard doors, and came out with a bottle of vodka. "A couple of Bloody Marys are just what we both need to pick us up."

June decided that the best policy would be to say nothing to provoke him and get rid of him as soon as he had his drink, so she kneeled down again and opened her suitcase. The first thing she saw was a brown manila envelope that certainly didn't belong to her.