David Lasher - Randy sis Cindi

Cindi snapped the album closed and returned it to the drawer, her hands shaking. Incest was not new to them, at all. Posing as his housekeeper kept her near so they could enjoy their illicit pleasure. This was what they'd been hinting at, what they couldn't talk about.

Oh, if he can fuck his sister, he can fuck his daughter, too! That's why he said "no" and got so awfully mad! He's already guilty, and maybe Ellen's the worst, because women don't fuck unless they really like a guy. She's older. Maybe she started it!

A car stopped out front. Cindi shivered, hoping it was John. No, she heard Ellen and Wendy, their words and laughter. As they came in the front door, Cindi peeked from the library door which was not quite closed.

"That was just beautiful fun, honey," Ellen smiled, her arms gliding around Wendy's waist.

"Right!" Wendy giggled, lifting her mouth for a kiss.

Their lips met. Cindi could see their tongues wrestling, their breasts cuddled together, their cunts pressed close. Ellen was dressed attractively, looking better than Cindi had ever seen her-except in that lacy bedroom outfit when she had entertained John in her apartment.

Cindi shuddered. Two revelations in one day was almost too much. She wondered how long this had been going on.

Finally, they broke apart with little pats and squeezes.

"You talk to John, like you promised, honey," Ellen smiled.

"Oh, I will. Don't worry!" Wendy giggled. "We'll all have a ball."

Cindi retreated, her heart thumping. When their voices faded away, she ran to the library window, raised the lower sash carefully, and crawled out. A row of shrubs shielded her movements. Moments later, she came in by the front door, rather noisily.

Those two bitches want a threesome with John! Cindi thought, envy crawling through her mind. "All have a ball" could mean nothing else! Having him alone was not enough. They wanted a party. And John would go for that. She had watched him take on three willing beach cunts.

Wendy came into the room smiling.

"You and Dotti have a good afternoon, honey?"

Cindi wanted to say, "We sure did. I watched her boyfriend make out with her and I ran home. I fucked a pillow for MY fun. I didn't rub cunts!" Instead, she said, "Oh, sure."

"You look cute in that outfit, Cindi," Wendy said. "But you're kind of pale. Anything the matter?"

"No," Cindi said, not able to meet Wendy's eyes.

"Well, when John comes home we're going to have a nice barbecue on the patio. That'll perk you up."

The only thing that'll perk me up is a fuck from my father! Cindi thought.

The sound of a car pulling up in front gave her a tingle. "That must be him now. I'll tell him."

Wendy nodded and walked back toward the rear. Cindi rushed out the front door just as John was leaving his big sedan.

"Hey," he smiled. "Here's my pretty young daughter looking sharp."

The way her father's eyes warmed as he surveyed her body gave Cindi another twinge in the pussy. She had fixed up for him and he liked it, but what she had discovered in the family album took away some of her pleasure.

"We've got to have another talk, John," she managed, her voice shaky.

"You're really upset, kitten," he said smoothly. "What is it?"

"I was just going through one of your family picture albums," she said accusingly. "And I know-about you and Ellen."

John felt a hard jolt in the balls. Of all the fucking bad luck! He had forgotten about those Montana snapshots. He had fully intended to burn them but had waited too long. A fantastic afternoon with Helene Fancher, and now this.

He felt his face turn hot. Then a coldness gripped his groin. Even in his fucked-out condition, Cindi looked sexy and desirable.

"Look, Cindi, I'm sorry. It started a long time ago. Sure, I'm an asshole. But Ellen needs me."

"If you can fuck her, you can fuck me!" Cindi flared. "You know you want to, and I want it. I told you I'd never tell!"

"We'll talk it out tomorrow, okay?" he muttered. "I'm bushed."

"Out humping some other cunt, I suppose," Cindi said dryly. She wanted to spill the works about Ellen and Wendy, but she held that back. He probably would simply shrug his shoulders. In some ways, he was a bastard.

"Cindi, you're very grown up for your age," Neil Lester said, his dark eyes caressing her body.

"Well, I love compliments," Cindi giggled, feeling a tingle in the clit.

It was Sunday afternoon. The barbecue planned for the previous day had been postponed, and John had invited a young trainee of his who had spent many years in England. Neil was dark, slender, and very handsome, in a studious kind of way. His swim trunks revealed a good-sized lump. He was supposed to be twenty-five, but he appeared younger.

Now the cook out on the patio was in full swing. Music drifted from the two speakers, and Cindi was very glad she had worn her newest mini-bikini. It was black and looked more like a panties-and-bra outfit than a swim suit. Wendy wore a red bikini, and even Ellen had put on a two-piece swim ensemble. For some reason, Helene Fancher had also been invited.

John sure likes a lot of pussy around, Cindi thought. He hasn't said a word about himself and Ellen. I'll just have to accept the situation. Ellen has been tinting her hair red to try to hide her blondeness, but she and John do look alike, now that I know their secret!

"Like to dance, Cindi?" Neil said.

"It's about time you asked!" she bubbled. Helene, in a tight blue bikini, had been casting glances at Neil, and Cindi wanted him to be her date. The others were near the bar and barbecue layout having highballs, laughing, and telling stories.

Cindi was really surprised to see Ellen in a swim-suit. She looked fabulous. She had never been treated like hired help, and Cindi knew why now. She was sharing the family prick! today, she was even acting differently. She and Wendy and Helene seemed more friendly than usual. Maybe it was just the drinks. Neil had taken only one highball.

"I like close dancing," Neil murmured, his arm around Cindi's waist.

"Neat," Cindi giggled, leaning against him. He didn't affect her like John, but she was getting a few warm sensations in the pussy.

Neil Lester felt the ripe, willowy aliveness of Cindi's youthful body, and his cockhead began swelling. When he had seen a picture of Cindi on John's desk in the office, his mouth had started watering. She had so much going for her he was flattered to be here, touching her, inhaling the sweet aroma of her pussy.

To Neil, Helene Fancher was a different kind of cunt. Her age didn't bother him. He had gotten some very good humping from gals around thirty-five or older. Born in Colorado, he had gone with his parents to London where his father had been representing a U.S. corporation. His first fuck as a teenager had been with the Lester's middle-aged housekeeper who trained him in bedroom manners.

He was not a stallion like John Allison, but he got plenty of pussy just the same. Things in England were different. If men married at all, they usually waited until they were thirty-five-and then it was for position or money. With so much cunt available, it was silly to settle down for American-type "love." That was for suckers. But fucking the boss' daughter might get him fucked at his job. Well, he would sniff around.

"Mmmmm, I bet you've been around with a lot of chicks," Cindi murmured in his ear. She was pushing her fine hard little titties right at his chest. He could feel her cunt curve against his basket.

"A few," he said. "English girls are different."

"Fall right over for you, huh?" Cindi purred. "You ought to try some California stuff."

He laughed. Too bad he couldn't take her out and eat about three climaxes from her fresh young pussy. She sure as hell needed it. Helene would be the one, though. Earlier, at the bar, she had rubbed against him and let him know it was there.