Ron Taylor - Hot for brother

And it was disgusting to have to watch her brother make a fool of himself over the cunt. She didn't want to see that male weakness in Alex. She didn't want him to be there, cuddling Roberta against him, tickling her ribs so she'd giggle in a high-pitched voice. She didn't want "Huh?" said Amy. Steve was beside her on a chaise lounge, sipping a Coke from the bar. He put his hand on her thigh, just below the button of her bikini panty, and she felt like slapping him for the unwanted touch.

"I said, 'Why don't you and I split?' Aren't you listening at all, Amy? You've been in a rotten mood all day. It isn't your period or anything, is it?"

"No, of course not," she said, sun glassed eyes still focused on Roberta and Alex. She wondered if she were strong enough to throw the big busty girl into the pool and drown her. Probably not. Roberta looked the hefty type. The kind who could put up a fight. Unless, of course, somebody was about to feed her eight inches of cock. She wouldn't fight that. Not on her life!

"Well?" Steve went on, cupping her knee for a moment, then sliding his possessive palm onto her thigh again. God! Amy thought. In a minute he's gonna be grabbing my pussy! And I'll have to wrap his deck chair around his fucking neck! Didn't he know, couldn't he see, that she had changed since yesterday afternoon? She wasn't the same Amy.

"Let's go for a ride," be suggested. "I know a canyon where the grass is soft and green and birds sing melodiously on every bush and tree, and…" His face was coming clear… he was breathing into her ear… his hand slid up her leg. Amy was sure be meant to fuck her right here, right now, with everybody watching, with Alex only a couple of feet away.

"Unh-uhhh," she replied firmly, leaving her chair. Yesterday she'd have – God, yesterday she had – gone with him to that canyon, and she'd allowed him to have most of his way with her. But not today. And perhaps never again. She wanted Alex, not Steve.

"I'm hungry," she said in a voice loud enough for Alex and Roberta to hear. "And this is such a drag. Why don't we get a bucket of chicken and go to our place or something?"

It was cool and pleasant in the Messenger basement, which had been done up as a rumpus room. Rachel's washer and drier took up a corner of the basement now, sharing space with a pool table, some furniture too shabby to use upstairs, a small bar, and a black-and-white TV. Amy and Steve sat on the couch drinking a couple of beers, finishing the last of the fried chicken, while Alex and Roberta played a game of pool. Steve had his hands on Amy whenever he could get them into play, but she wasn't interested. Her eyes were on Alex and the blonde.

"You missed!" Roberta gloated. "My turn again!" Alex was a good pool player, too, as Amy was well aware. She was lucky to get in a shot at all, if he had the break. But with Roberta, he kept flubbing, over and over. Amy knew why. It was plain as day.

Roberta bent over, sighting down the cue. Her ass wiggled behind her, twitching to the beat of an imaginary rock band, and when she leaned forward, the scarf halter improvised for her big tits jiggled and gave way, offering free peeks into her luscious cleavage. Her tits had a tendency to sway and bounce as she lined up her shots, and Alex kept missing, giving her plenty of chances to line up her shots. Did he have so little self-respect? Was he fucking up a game he excelled at just to get a few cheap thrills from [missing text].

No, she didn't! But she wanted to! If only she could forget last night. And that was impossible.

"Don't you ever think of anything but sex?" she asked Steve shamelessly as his hand once again cupped her breast. She was bra-less under the halter, and his fingers worked the fabric against the skin until her nipple stood up automatically. Amy shivered, watching, feeling his hand encircle her small ripe mound. "My brother's watching," she added in an undertone. "What if he decides to kick your ass for playing with me?"

"Alex? The only as he's got his mind on is Roberta's. Bet we could really get it on, right here. He's so busy looking down her cleavage he wouldn't notice if we hollered and told him. Came on, Amy, you're not very friendly today. What's the matter?" His fingers worked past the edge of her halter, onto the flesh inside, and before Amy could stop him or even gasp, he was cupping her bare breast, fingers jerking behind the halter's thin veil of fabric. She whimpered softly, withering he wouldn't do that. Steve didn't seem to notice.

"Hey," Roberta sang. "I won! I won!!" She was jumping up and down, and of course her tits bobbled inside the scarf halter. Amy had never seen anything so cheaply obvious as the jiggling motion of Roberta's tits. She sniffed in contempt.

Alex walked round the pool table and joined the stacked blonde.

"I never won a game of pool before," Roberta confided. "Ooh, God, I'm so excited! Feel how my heart is beating?" And with that she took Alex's hand and planted it right atop the bulge of her left breast, using her lingers to seal his hand around the hump of flesh. "Pitty-pat, pitty-pat," she gushed, lifting onto her tiptoes, one hand bracing itself on Alex's muscular shoulder. "I know you let me win," she went on, purring-cute, "and for that, here's your good-sport prize." She slammed her mouth against his, locking her hand around his neck, twining one leg round his, clinging to him like vine ascending a brick wall.

Alex didn't fight. He grabbed her buttocks and pulled Roberta against him, his body a stout post for her to climb. And she climbed, kissing him with loud sucking noises, her cunt grinding into his loins as he kneaded the full, firm cheeks of her ass. Amy scarcely noticed that her own halter was being untied – not until her nipples were suddenly chilled by the air-conditioning, then warmed almost at once by Steve's pinching fingers.

She sank back, watching through one eye the Alex Roberta situation. Resistance seemed futile now, especially when she felt Steve's hard-on distending the front of his pants. His lips touched hers, wet and open, and she kissed him back, a little more spirit flowing from her body as she remembered how nice it had been with her and Steve, before Amy accepted his tongue in her mouth, and her tits warmed in his squeezing hands. He didn't seem to care that they weren't as big as Roberta's. Maybe all guys weren't like Alex. Oh, God, if only they were! Then she wouldn't have this problem. She wouldn't want him right now, the only guy she couldn't have, and she wouldn't be thinking of him while Steve's hands explored her vibrant young body.

He took his mouth off hers and moved it quickly to the buds of her red nipples. "That feels good," she told him, wishing she sounded more involved. And while she nursed Steve at her bosom, Amy looked toward the pool table, at her brother and her rival.

They were just coming out of their kiss, Roberta panting like a spent mare as she settled onto the soles of her wedgies. And when Alex turned, Amy could see that his pants thrust out with the lump of a stiff pecker. She gulped, and one tiny tear welled in her eye. She blinked as it rolled down her cheek.

"What have we here?" giggled Roberta, petting the bulge in Alex's trousers. He stood straight, tall, and handsome, his shoulders thrown back as she fondled his hidden boner, and he didn't even look in Amy's direction. It was as if she no longer existed as part of his life. Hate throbbed in her bosom. Hate for Roberta, hate for Alex, and hate for Steve too. She'd shown them. She'd show them all!

"Steve," she whispered, stroking his long, curly hair. "I have a wonderful surprise for you." He unclasped her nipple and a thin trail of spit stretched from her pap to his mouth as he drew back his head. She took him by the hand and placed his fingers upon the tight crotch of her shorts. "There," she went on. "There. That's where I want you. Take me, Steve. Take all of me!!"