Brad Harris - Warming up for brother

Finally, she envisioned, the boys at high school fucking her one by one. She worked her pussy into an erotic frenzy, then shivered as her orgasm shattered her with its power.

"Oooooo!" she gasped. "Oooooo! Fuck me! Fuck me! Somebody fuck me! Please, somebody fuck me! Anybody fuck me! Ooooo, let everybody fuck me! I want to be fucked! I have to be fucked! Ooooooo!"

She was still afterwards. Outside she could hear Yvonne walk from her father's room and into the bedroom she shared with Gilbert. Cammy tried not to breathe. She couldn't let anyone know she we here. She couldn't take a chance on being discovered. The smell of her cunt-juice was all through the room. Anyone would know exactly what she had been doing. She couldn't let them catch her.

She couldn't take a chance on being given chores for the afternoon, either. She had to get to the bayou before the boats came in. She had to show off her tits and ass to the fishermen. If she was going to get her fuck, then she was going to have to let the guys see what she had to offer. She waited until Yvonne and her dad had gone back over to the camp.

Cammy waited quietly until she was sure they had gone. Then the girl slipped into the bathroom and washed the juices from her pussy. She sprayed some of Yvonne's cologne over herself slipped back into the tight shorts, and left the house. This would be her day. Damn it! Everyone else was getting some, it was time for her next!

Cammy stretched her legs in the bright sunshine and lay back in the soft grass. It was too early for the boats to be cruising along the bayou, at lest too early for the ones she was interested in. Several fishing parties had come up the water, parties on board the luxury boats some of the New Orleans people owned. Cammy had heard a few loud calls of appreciation in a boat churned by, a few whistles, a few kidding invitations to join the party. She ignored those compliments, even though they did make her feel good. She was interested in the local boats, the boats with men like Pierre LaBlanc on board. She wasn't out here just to display her tanned legs. She was out here to attract a good cock.

The girl was still shocked over having seen her father fucking Yvonne. She had suspected that Yvonne messed around and slept with men other than her husband. Cammy never dreamed, though, that Yvonne was screwing around inside the family. Her father was not that old, but Cammy had never thought of him as needing a woman before. She had to face that now. Antoine Dusseaux was a healthy, virile male. Why shouldn't he need a fuck like any other man?

Cammy supposed that it must be all right for Antoine to screw his son's wife. It didn't look right, of course. There would be a hell of a fight if Gilbert even suspected it. Gilbert was the only man along the bayou who was strong enough to take on Antoine. Cammy shuddered as she remembered the one fight the two had. No one seemed to know who had won, because both were out on their feet by the time they collapsed together. Site didn't want to ever have to witness another fight like that one.

She locked up as she heard the muffled sound of a diesel engine down the bayou. The boat glistened in the sunlight as it approached. Cammy leaned on an elbow and watched in resigned boredom. Another pleasure boat. Another boat some man from New Orleans kept tied up all week so he could party on it on weekends. She watched the boat as it slowed, then veered towards the bank.

"Hi, there!" a cheery voice called down to her. Cammy looked up to see a bronzed young man, blond, wearing only swim trunks. Damn, he was a hunk of man! She smiled up and waved back to him. The man motioned her closer to the bank as he brought the boat almost to a stop. He shouted over the deep chug of the diesels.

"Hop aboard," he invited her. "Perhaps you can help me. You may know the person I'm looking for."

Cammy hesitated. Antoine had warned her continually about not getting involved with these boaters. For that matter, her dad didn't want her having anything to do with anyone, Cajun or otherwise, who she didn't know. The girl hesitated, studied the boat, then smiled and waited for him to work it close enough to the bank for her to leap aboard. The boat was no stranger. She had watched it glide past her home on weekends. Someone had said that it was owned by a man named Simpson, one of the New Orleans sportsmen. The boat was known along the bayou. She reasoned that the man who had invited her aboard was known, as well. Besides, she hadn't seen such a good-looking guy in a long time.

"I'm Buck Simpson," the young man smiled as she climbed up to the flying bridge. He stuck his hand out in friendly fashion. Cammy offered her hand, amazed at how even and bright his teeth were. His skin glistened in the sun, his blond hair flailed softly about his face. Damn, but he was nice-looking. She smiled up at him warmly.

"Camille Dusseaux," she identified herself. "This your boat?"

"Lord, no!" he laughed. "It's my dad's. I had a few days off from college and decided to spend it playing along the bayou."

"You're in college?" Somehow Buck didn't fit her idea of a college student. His hair wasn't long enough. His clothes weren't rumpled and dirty enough. She laughed to herself. How could he wear dirty clothes if he was in a swim suit? Still, the boys from along the bayou who went off to college always seemed to let their hair grow and forget how to wash their clothes by the time they came home at Thanksgiving.

"LS U," he said. "You look like you don't believe me."

"You don't look like a student," she stammered. "I mean, well, maybe I'm not sure what I mean."

"You read me pretty well," Buck laughed, those fantastic teeth sparkling before her. "I'm not very much of a student, really. Dad accuses me of being more of a playboy than a serious student."

His eyes had already taken in her pert tits. Now they were sizing up her tiny waist, her full hips, her long, lithe legs. Cammy felt shivers run through her at the open appreciation in his eyes. She watched the way his sensuous, mouth was accented by the sparkling teeth. She caught herself wondering how it would feel to kiss him.

"You're looking for someone?" she asked, forcing herself to break his stare. "You thought maybe I could help you?"

"That's right," he laughed. "I'd almost forgotten. Now that I've gotten a good look at you, I'm not nearly so interested in finding her as [missing text]."

"Finding who?" Cammy asked. She looked at his body, forcing herself to ignore his swelling cock. She looked away.

Before she realized it, Buck had swung the boat back out into the bayou and turned it out toward the Gulf. He waited to answer her, concentrating on steering the luxury cruiser past the incoming fishing boats. Cammy arched her back, thrusting her tits into the breeze and letting her hair blow out behind her. She felt suddenly very important. She imagined that she was Buck's date, that she was one of the society girls from New Orleans who were always getting their pictures in the paper, always being crowned queen at the Mardi Gras.

She didn't realize until later that she was recognized by several of the fishermen. She didn't see Pierre LaBlanc stare at her as they passed the boat on which he worked. She was so caught up in her fantasy that she didn't even see Gilbert turn from the wheel.

"You know a girl named Yvonne?" Buck called over to her.

Cammy froze for a moment. How did Buck know about Yvonne? How could she answer him? She certainly couldn't tell him Yvonne was her sister-in-law. She didn't know why she couldn't tell him, she just knew she couldn't.

"Yvonne who?" she asked, stalling for time and searching for a way to get out of this. "There are lots of Yvonne's along the bayou." She wasn't really sure about this. There was an Yvonne Michaud further down the bayou, and there was a black girl named Yvonne over by the levee.