Frank Brown - Two horny cousins

The elevator began to move downward. On the third floor, a fat middle-aged man in a baggy swimsuit stepped aboard carrying his beach towel. He stared at Fern all the way down to the lobby. Fern could hear him breathing heavily. When the door opened to the lobby, he stood there, unmoving. Fern glanced up at him. He was red as a salmon, and he smiled in a silly way.

"After you, my dear," he said, extending his arm to show her the way out.

"I'm not getting off here," Fern said.

"Oh," the man said. "Oh, oh." He blushed even redder, then waddled out the door. As the door closed behind him, he was looking back at Fern with an even sillier grin.

Fern pushed button five, and the elevator started back up. Silly man, she thought, but she was smiling. She felt a sense of power. That man wanted her. Almost every man and teen she passed wanted her. They'd do almost anything for her. They'd crawl for her. They'd give her money. She really hadn't realized that before. She'd always been too shy, too embarrassed to take a good look at the males around her. But she was looking now, and she was seeing more and more to smile about.

At the fifth floor, the door opened. A couple was walking down the hallway – a young couple. They looked like newlyweds. The woman was walking funny, as if she had pissed in her bikini. As they entered the elevator, Fern greeted them and stepped out into the hallway. She's been well fucked, Fern thought as she began her last trek down the hallway. The new bride had undoubtedly been a virgin until her wedding night. Fern felt gleefully satisfied. She herself was only eighteen, and already she'd been fucked by four boys and had sucked off two others. She knew all about fucking. The man who married her would marry an experienced woman.

At the end of the hall Fern made her final pirouette. She had wasted an hour and a half, but she wasn't going to waste any more time. Back to the elevator. As she reached the corner where the hallway turned, she heard a door open. She stepped back out of sight just as Penny came out of a room.

"See you tonight," Penny said, and she wiggled down the hallway and rang for the elevator. Her black hair was tangled and, even from where Fern stood, she could see purple hickeys on Penny's brown calves. Penny bounced into the elevator and was gone.

Fern stood there for a few moments as if she'd just been hit over the head. She was right – Penny had gotten off on the fifth floor, and Penny had been visiting somebody, just as she had told her. But now, for a look at the man who was supposed to be in that room. How could she get a look at him? Knock on the door and say, "Hi, just wanted to get a look at you"? She almost laughed out loud at the idea, but without really considering what she was doing, she walked straight up to the door and put her ear to it. She heard some shuffling sounds inside. She pressed her ear harder to the door, straining to hear more.

It was a horrifying sound – the sound of lock mechanisms sliding metallically, clicking suddenly. And before her mind could tell her to react, before she could coil her strength and spring away from the door, she found herself riding with the opening door. As she crashed into the motel room, she felt her heart lift up and lodge in her throat, and she let out a defeated shriek. She'd had it.

"I was just…" she started to say, but she was interrupted by the pained voice of a man.

"Oh, my God! My God!" he said. "I can explain. I'll explain everything."

Fern gazed up at the man, aware that her mouth had dropped open as if her jaw muscles had become paralyzed. Her father stood above her looking like he had a bad case of the flu.

"Daddy?" she said. "Daddy?"

"I can explain," he said, lifting her to her feet. His hands shook, and they felt almost limp to Fern. She stood up more under her own power than due to his lifting. As be closed the door, Fern looked around the room.

The large bed – the center of attraction in the room – was a jumbled mess of sheets and pillows. The curtains were drawn, filtering the full strength of the sunshine, and causing the room to glow with a sort of midday twilight. The air of the room was thick and musky, heavy with the scent of sweat and cum and female sex-juice. The scents were unmistakable. Over the last week, Fern had come to know these scents as well as she knew the scent of the ocean.

She turned toward her father, feeling almost dizzy. She realized fully what had been going on here. Strangely, all she could think of to do was laugh. And she stood before her father giggling, as if she'd lost her mind.

Her dad looked at her with a sick, drooping grin on his face. "You won't tell your mother?" he said. "I can explain it all. We can make a deal. We can work something out. You won't tell your mother, though, right? Right, darling? It was her doing. She kept after me. I couldn't help myself."

As he talked, he seemed to be shrinking. He began to look to Fern like a little teen called in before his school principal. He looked vulnerable, like a squirrel helplessly trying to avoid the talons of a diving hawk. And the more vulnerable, the more helpless he appeared, the stronger, the more in control Fern felt. Although she was looking up at him, she felt as if she were looming over him and looking down.

She smiled as he made his excuses, and she unfastened her bikini top. The small white cups dropped soundlessly to the floor, and her woman-sized tits hung there in full sight of her father.

Her dad's mouth moved, but no sounds came out. He looked sick, on the verge of collapse.

He looked ecstatic. He looked horrified. His eyes focused on her tits like a cat's eyes on two fat pigeons.

Trying to remain upright, wanting to maintain her tits in full view of her dad – as if letting them out of his sight would break the spell they cast over him – Fern squatted slightly and slipped down her bikini panties, lifting her smooth legs high as she stepped out of them. She straightened herself, moved backward, and eased herself back onto the mound of sheets and pillows on the bed. She tossed her head to straighten her hair. Then, staring straight into her father's eyes, she licked her lips seductively, at the same time spreading her legs as wide as she could manage. She felt completely naked, completely open. A warm trickle of cunt juice oozed out and slid over her bottom. She contracted her loin muscles, making her pussylips pout, making them spread and close like the lips of her mouth.

"Take off your clothes, Daddy," she said. "Don't you wanna fuck your little Fern? I'm a better fuck then Penny, Daddy. Just let me show you."

Her dad groaned. He yanked off his tie and nearly ripped the buttons off his shirt trying to get it off. He tripped stepping out of his shoes, then tripped again as he struggled out of his trousers. A tiny pair of underwear – men's bikini shorts, hardly larger than Fern's panties – hugged his tight loins, bulging at the groin as if he had a salami stuffed inside. The huge cockbulge throbbed, and Fern couldn't bear to wait another moment.

"Let me see your cock, Daddy," she said. "Quick, Daddy, it's a big one. Let me see your cock. Oh, quick!"

Her dad hauled off his shorts, and his prick jumped out. Fern sighed. It was huge – bigger then the cocks of any of the boys or young men she'd yet fucked or sucked. It stood straight out from his crotch, pointing slightly at the ceiling, and throbbing like an excited heart. A shiny drop of pre-cum balanced at the pricktip, and down below, balls the size of eggs plumped up his blond-hair ball-sac.

Fern's dad moved toward her, his cock wagging heavily. Bloated veins hugged the shaft of his cock. His swollen cockhead was the color of raw liver. His cock looked like a long, muscular snake. His prick lance looked as strong as did the rest of his body. Her dad was solid muscle, and tanned beautifully golden.