Brad Allison - Brother and sister

She was a divorcee already at nineteen. He had found her through an employment agency in Spokane just before he had decided to establish his practice in Potter. She was supposed to have a steady boyfriend, but it was very obvious that he was not getting the job done; she was probably holding out for another wedding ring.

This was his first real opportunity to find out where he stood with her, and even though he had patted her on the ass a few times and squeezed one of her big, full breasts, that did not mean she would fuck. She was a bit too plump for his taste, a little too short, but if she would not fuck he could easily pick up a local girl to do the work. That might be even better for business, too. Carla wanted to live in Spokane, anyway.

He moved up behind the receptionist chair and placed his hands on her shoulders. She looked up, gave him a warm, inviting glance and wet her full, ripe lips with the tip of her tongue.

"Want to stick around a while, cute stuff?" he grinned.

"I thought you'd never ask!" she giggled. "This little burg is a real drag! No lively night spots where a girl can have any fun…"

His cockhead tingled, he slid his hands lower, toward her bulging breasts, clearly lined by the white, snug uniform.

"So, you want some night life and a few drinks?" he said, moving his fingers around the full, round, resilient jugs. "What about your steady?"

"He can't get away during the week… Besides, he doesn't really understand, you know. Acts like I'm made of thin glass or something. Jeez, I was married awhile, you'd think…"

"You need a little, huh?" he chuckled.

"Well, what's wrong with that?" she giggled, arching her breasts into his palms. "Ohhhh, it's a long time, honey!"

Some of them were so easy for him that there was not much thrill in it. He usually fucked older dames, though. Carl was twenty-eight. He had decided he would not get married yet for a few years, until he got some of his debts paid off. Getting started was one hell of an expense.

Pussy might be a little hard to find in an uptight, churchy burg like Potter, but there was plenty of dough around; he needed that worse than he needed cunt. There was one middle-aged widow in Spokane that he could screw any time he got a big hard-on, and she was a terrific piece of ass. He would have to play it clean in Potter. Hell, he might even find some local chick to settle down with; he was getting bored with promiscuous cunt, it was everywhere. And not one in twenty could put out a good fuck.

He opened the first buttons on the bodice of Carla's uniform and slipped his hand down inside, testing the resiliency of her big, rounded breasts in the thin, lace-trimmed pink bra.

"Ummmmm!" she breathed, pushing them out further, her plump nyloned thighs starting to open. "You going to take me dancing later, honey?"

"Much later," he grinned, squeezing her breasts. He soon had the uniform top wide open, clear to her waist, noticing the front opener on her bra. It was bikini-proportioned, and he had already spotted a similar skimpy adornment beneath the white uniform across her ass. He played with the upper curves of her breasts, delaying the pleasure of fondling her bare boobs. He loved a good pair of tits.

"Nice construction," he grinned. "Let's go in the back room."

"I wondered why you got that couch, honey," she giggled. She watched his hands on her breasts and held her mouth up for a kiss. Her tongue was waiting, it wiggled into his mouth before their lips touched, she moaned hungrily, her plump thighs spreading further.

They wrestled tongues, her arms sliding up and around his neck. He moved half-way around at her right, dropping his play hand from her bulging breasts down to her legs. The hem of the uniform was skidded back nearly to her crotch, the dark nylons drawing his fingers. He tickled inward to her cunt and pressed the soft, bikini-covered mound.

Her tongue worked faster, her fingers dug at the nape of his neck. Her mouth had a fine warmth, her full lips trembled as he caressed the soft thigh-flesh between the bands of her nylons and the fancy panties. She was getting ready fast.

Somehow he was not as excited as he should have been. He had done a lot of fucking at WSU while going through optical school. The campus was lousy with cunt, he had never experienced any trouble getting all the pussy he wanted. Those pill-protected coeds went right out after it. Most of them were husband hunting, they would fuck to try to earn a ring.

Carl had been very fortunate to learn about sex from an older woman when he was sixteen in the small farming town where he had been raised. A distant relative of his father's had come to visit for the summer. She had been given the guest room and had kept house while his parents worked; they had been building a nest egg to put him through the university.

He remembered vividly the day he had come home from his summer job at the local grocery store, thinking about a swim, since he had the afternoon off. Anna Morrow had been relaxing in the enclosed backyard, reading a book, wearing a very snug sun suit, her plump thighs spread slightly apart, her dark hair brushed loosely around her shoulders, her generous breasts bulging the tight halter…

"My, you look handsome today, Carl," she smiled. He had noticed her watching him when his parents were gone. Anna was a widow, around forty; her husband had been killed in a car wreck and she had collected a pile of insurance money.

He blushed, his cock tingling. Carl had been jacking off since the age of twelve, before he could even squirt any juice. He had been dating some of the young fourteen-year-old chicks around town and not getting anywhere with them. They were afraid to fuck; the Pill had not yet become popular as a contraceptive. He had an almost perpetual hard-on and had to pump his meat nearly every day. He had some girlie magazines hidden in his room which he liked to look at when he was playing with his cock.

"I was going swimming," he muttered.

"Oh, with one of those sexy young girls?" she laughed. "They sure do hang around you a lot."

He grinned, feeling more relaxed. A buddy of Carl's claimed he was fucking an aunt of his, also a widow, and said it was terrific.

"Nah," he answered. Her thighs opened more, he could see the outline of her cunt against the hug of her blue shorts. His cock started rising, he trembled. He knew he would have to jack out a load, swim or not.

"I'll tell you something if you won't breathe a word to your folks," Anna said, her voice soft and suggestive.

"Hell, no!" he blurted.

"Would you like to learn something about girls, honey?"

He shuddered. He hated to admit he had hardly any experience at all, just some back seat playing around, a few breast-feels and a lot of kissing. Not one fuck.

"Sure," he muttered.

She rose languidly from the lawn chair and winked. "Let's go inside. I have something to show you."

A moment later she was guiding him into the guest room upstairs. When she closed the door his legs felt a little weak, his cock was suddenly shriveled. He was so damned excited he could hardly breathe. He was seeing an older woman as a sex object for the first time; he had been obsessed with young cunt; all those miniskirts and tight sweaters drove him wild. But he was not getting any of it!

Anna's figure was full, her waist was trim, her legs a lot better than he had imagined, and with some makeup on she looked pretty damned good. She never fixed up much when his parents were home, and he had never seen her in shorts and halter, either.

She wants to fuck me! he thought, trembling. Her husband's been dead about three years, she isn't going with anybody. Sonofabitch! She knew I had the afternoon off, she called the store. She was waiting for me!