Mark Carver - Family ties

"You've got to be careful, darling," her voice mocked her. "You could get hooked on that thing." The warning to Sheila Marks had been sincere.

Because no one knew better than Carol how hooked a girl could get on the giant electrified prick. Deep down, the stewardess knew she'd deliberately hooked herself on it, had gone at it gladly and lustfully.

Because Carol knew she had to die someday, and it was the only way she could be literally fucked to death. And that's how she planned to go. All this was only practice.

"Fuck me!" her voice rang in the empty bedroom. "Fuck me!"

Three of the Marks family lay awake in the early hours of the morning, all of them preoccupied with their thoughts.

In her bed, Becky Marks sighed again and again, her fingers daringly toying with her own hotly throbbing pussy. God, her father had been beautiful! What a lover! She deliberately refused to brush her teeth that night so she could savor the final lingering traces of his jizz in her mouth.

Her own Daddy had taken her virginity, and she felt so gloriously excited about it she knew she had to tell someone. But who could she trust? Who would share in her blissful happiness, her delicious secret? Who would understand? Certainly not her brother, Jim.

A faint throb began to pulse in the girl's loins when she thought of her brother. She'd seen Jim naked just a month or so ago. He was coming down the hall on the way to the shower, and not knowing she was home, he was naked. Lord, he had a long cock! It dangled down over his balls like a hose. He couldn't compete with his father, but it was easy to see he'd inherited an impressive head start. Funny, she'd never thought of Jim sexually before. Her father, yes, in fantasies, but never her brother. He was really very good-looking, Becky realized.

The adolescent began to imagine giving her brother a blow-job, astonishing him with her hunger and skill. Then she would sit on his lap and give him an unforgettably furious fuck, one that would shame those dumb girls he dated.

Becky drifted off to sleep, determined to seduce Jim at the first chance it was the right thing to do, she knew, because anything that brought a family closer together was good.

Beside Glenn in bed, Sheila's regular breathing told him she was asleep. Groping in the dark, he lit another cigarette. Hell, it was easy to see why he couldn't sleep. It wasn't every night a respectable father went down on his own daughter's virgin-pussy, then took it and then encouraged her to perform what the law called an obscene act in certain circumstances.

The thing that troubled him was Becky's age. She was now madly in love with him sexually, a lot different than the father-daughter version. And there was no telling how she might act now. Sure, Becky had been a terrific piece of ass, hot and juicy and thrillingly tight, but now that his lust was temporarily sated, he began to weigh the possible hazards.

Glenn Marks had the funny feeling he was treading on thin ice. Very thin.

Next to him, Sheila pretended to be asleep. Again and again, she went over her lewd, violent affair with Carol that night, trembling with remembered passion and excitement. Was the reason her husband was still awake was that he suspected?

What bothered her even more than her sense of guilt and shame, though, was the fact that ever since her hot wanton night with the beautiful stewardess, she'd begun to look at girls and women with different eyes. Very often hungry eyes, accompanied by wild forbidden thoughts.

Just tonight she'd found herself staring at her daughter, Becky, across the dinner table with the most shocking thoughts, thoughts that made her face now turn crimson. Her own lips kissing and teasing and sucking Becky's lovely tits. Then every silken inch of her whole naked body, pausing greedily before her tender cunt, dipping swiftly down to lick at Becky's sweet asshole before devouring her with breathtaking excitement.

Terrible, absolutely horrible. How could she ever think such things about her own daughter? If Glenn knew, he would possibly kill her for such depravity, even imagined.

Because Glenn adored their beautiful daughter. Becky couldn't have a more kindly, loving father.

Far more loving than Sheila Marks suspected.

The entire family finally slept, unaware they were on a collision course with lust at the helm and disaster straight ahead.

As her father had promised Becky, he'd gotten a new van from his agency the next day. Copper-colored, with drapes and every conceivable accommodation, the van was a motel room on wheels, with even greater privacy. Glenn wondered why he hadn't thought of it before. It was the perfect answer for quickies without the cost of a motel room or the risk of being spotted.

The idea was such a stroke of genius on Becky's part that her father rewarded her that first afternoon by screwing her three times in a row after school. Glenn was glad he had the good sense to park the van in a secluded spot on the outskirts of town, though. Even with the tape deck turned up to a near-deafening level, his daughter's shrieks of wanton ecstasy seemed to carry a mile.

Glenn knew now that his wildly aroused daughter would do anything he wanted, and that Friday evening he called the redhead's number. The idea of a torrid threesome with the two girls had kept his cock throbbing urgently for days. He discovered, with disappointment, that Marge had gone away for the weekend to visit her parents.

The weekend was usually a social whirl for the Markses – dinners with friends and neighbors, an invitation to his boss' house, social obligations that couldn't be avoided. Glenn and Sheila were tremendously popular.

Saturday night they left the house at seven to attend a dinner party, leaving Jim and Becky home alone. Jim had a date with a plump, but rich, college girl at nine. Becky had turned down two dates. After her lewd and violent sex-episodes with her own father, high school boys were almost laughably ridiculous to Becky.

At seven-thirty, Becky stripped and put on her terry cloth robe. There was a smoldering gleam in her wide eyes as she knocked on the door of her brother's room.

He opened the door, looking annoyed. "What is it, kid?"

Kid! If Jim knew, he'd keel over in shock. "Do you want the shower first or what, Jim? I mean, I know you've got a hot date with that fat-assed college broad and you must be rarin' to go."

He looked at her with a cool grin. "Listen, you keep your comments to yourself. She's a nice girl. Besides, she's rolling in money."

"But she's a lousy lay, right?" Becky smiled. "I'll bet that dumpy ass of hers lumbers like an earth-moving machine. Is that the best you can do?"

Jim stared at his sister in surprise. It was common to hear kids Becky's age use profanity, but it was surprising to hear angelic Becky talk like this. She seemed different somehow tonight. The belt of her terry cloth robe was loose and he could see her tits almost to the nipple. His sister would be an absolute knockout in a couple more years, and already her lush promise was blossoming overnight.

"I can do a hell of a lot better," he retorted. "But tonight I work on my bank account, got it? I'll take the shower first. Now beat it."

Becky grinned, nodded, and went back to her room. She lit a cigarette from the pack she'd stolen from her father's room, and calmly waited. Ten minutes later, Jim walked down the hall to the bathroom. Her heart beating wildly, Becky stubbed out her cigarette, slipped out of her robe and walked down the hall stark naked.

Without knocking, she opened the bathroom door and walked in. Her brother stood before the mirror with a towel draped around his waist. He had his electric shaver in his hand but hadn't turned it on yet. He looked at his sister in astonishment, blinking his eyes.