Ron Taylor: Hot for dad

Maybe she didn't know.

Betsy had been so confident that this scheme would work, that Sibyl would find out what boys were for, that she'd forget all about her half-repressed incestuous yearning for Ed.

Sibyl took to sex like a dog takes to eating shit. Wayne wasn't enough for her. She rode and sucked his cock till he couldn't stare it hard, and then she wrapped her legs around Jim's face while he was trying to ball Betsy, and before Betsy knew what was happening, she found herself a fifth wheel on an overloaded wagon.

It was as if Sibyl wanted to bathe her body in cum. Jim ate her out to a moaning orgasm, she sucked his cock and made his jism flow like a fountain into her red hair, across her pale, freckled face, her tongue snaking around to lick up stray trickles of seed. She fucked him, too, romping up and down on his stiff cock with sensuous body action that all too soon caused him to lunge upward, dumping his load into the rubber that encased his dick. She even persuaded Wayne's cock to revive by the promise of taking her anal cherry. Her words helped, nearly as much as the firm, fine quality of Sibyl's sucking, and a fresh erection soon sprouted from Wayne's loins. "Okay," she told him, leaning forward with hands braced on her knees, her slim ass upthrust and ready, "I want you to shove that big prick of yours all the way up my cute little butt. What are you waiting for, Christmas?"

He'd given it to her, too, Betsy remembered. He'd spread her asshole, steered his cock to the anal pucker, and he'd shoved his, way inside. Betsy watched in fascination, recalling how much it had fucking hurt the first time she'd ever let anyone do that to her. But Sibyl didn't scream or sob. She grunted as the dick moved inside her, and then the swiveled her ass in a sexy jiggle that began to swallow up Wayne's cock, and in no more than thirty seconds, they were fucking for dear life. Sibyl's mouth was set in firm determination and her nipples were a hard, swollen pink.

She let him cum in her ass, since it was perfectly safe, and when he finally took his prick out of her, sticky goo oozed from her rectum. Sibyl rubbed herself, soaking her fingers in the spilled jism, and she offered a taste of it to Betsy, who refused.

Sibyl's initiation was successful, yes, but there was a coldness to the girl's attitude that bothered Betsy. The blonde girl liked to think of herself as a survivor, a manipulator, but she couldn't have used anyone the way Sibyl used Wayne and Jim. Sibyl played them off against one another, teasing arid tempting each by her performance with the other. After that first brief spell of necking with Wayne, Sibyl didn't even bother kissing either of the boys. She made them hard, she fucked them, she sucked them, and when they'd both been drained she wanted no more to do with them. They were only hard cocks to give her body pleasure. As the sun crept lower down the western summer sky, Sibyl tensed her body in the brook, put on her borrowed jumpsuit, and said, "Why don't we all go home now? I don't think anything else is about to happen."

That coldness seemed to remain with Sibyl through the next evening. Betsy had gone up to the Bogarts' for a cookout, a swim, and an all-night visit. She brought her most chaste bikini, splashed in the pool with Ed, and ate barbecued hamburgers with a ravenous appetite. Sibyl didn't swim. She sat on the patio in her jeans and sweatshirt, turning the hamburgers as they cooked and watching the proceedings with an alienated eye. She only spoke when spoken to, and then as briefly as possible.

In fact, she was such a stone bummer that Betsy found herself paying much more attention to Sibyl's father. Why not? She dug Ed, anyway, and even if he didn't mention the other afternoon, she could see it in his eyes when he looked at her. He was remembering, too, and she was certain his memories jibed with her own. And wasn't this what she'd been angling for? An invitation to stay overnight with Sibyl, a chance to pop into bed with her dad again? He touched her once, when they were in the pool, under the water where Sibyl couldn't see. His hand on her leg, moving up her thigh, onto the straining crotch of her bikini pants. She could feel her pussy hum in reply as he held on, squeezing her through the tight nylon, and she closed her legs upon his hand, intensifying his caress. Then he'd let her go and he was swimming away. She bided her time after that, confident she could manage what she wanted.

The chance came. Sibyl was in the kitchen making coffee, and Betsy and Ed were alone in the living room watching a rerun. "I've missed you," Betsy said. "I've missed all of you."

He smiled, patting his knee. She went to him, sat down, her arms around his neck. He smelled very nice this evening – a virile cologne mixed with the lingering aroma of Sail tobacco from his pipe – and Betsy enjoyed nuzzling his skin. About the time his hand closed upon her breast, unfettered beneath the clingy halter shirt she wore, she whispered in his ear, "I want to fuck you again. And I think you owe me one, since I did fix up Sibyl yesterday. She had a good time, she met some new people, and that's what you wanted. Soooo…"

Betsy didn't feel it necessary to mention the details of Sibyl's date, and certainly that would spoil the effect she was constructing. Ed's hand squeezed on her tit, making her nipple pop up big and hot. She touched the front of his trousers to trace the outline of his recumbent cock. It was soft now, but when her mouth started working, when she teased his knob with the stiff points of her nipples and let him taste the honey dripping from her cunt, she knew it would get hard.

"Tell you what," she said. "As soon as Sibyl goes off to dreamland, I'll just hop and skip down the hall and, before you know which end of you is up, this end of you will be up, bigger than life and twice as tasty. Say about one o clock?"

He nibbled on her lower lip while she purred with delight.

"All right," he said. "I owe you for being nice to Sibyl."

If anything, Sibyl's attitude was even worse after the two girls went up to bed. The young redhead seemed incredibly surly, uncommunicative, and Betsy asked if she were angered by anything. Sibyl only shook her head, not even deigning a verbal reply. Betsy shrugged, stripped, and went in to take a bath. She wanted to be fresh and bright and clean for Ed.

Alone in her bedroom, Sibyl smote her knee with a fist. That rotten tramp! She'd heard them, making plans when they thought she couldn't hear. That was the only reason Betsy had come to spend the night, so she could get into Daddy's arms again. Oh, she could see it now, the two of them, rolling on the bed, sweating, moaning, their bodies joined in sex. Sex! What was the big deal about it, anyway? Sibyl had drowned herself in it yesterday but it meant nothing to her. Nothing at all. She could scarcely remember what either of those boys looked like, now. They were just bodies, and she'd used them to please herself the way Betsy had showed her. She should be satiated by that afternoon of fucking, but she wasn't. A canker gnawed her from the inside out. And to think that in another hour Betsy and-and… She didn't even want to think about it, but she found herself unable to think of anything else.

Sibyl eyed the small vial she had taken from Daddy's nightstand while he was still downstairs. His sleeping pills. Sometimes, when he worked late and his system was supercharged from writing, he needed a pill to get to sleep. If they worked on a tense man…

"Here," she told Betsy when the blonde girl returned all scrubbed and glowing from the bath. "A glass of milk, I always have one before I go to bed, and I thought you might want one, too."

Ed Bogart lay on his bed in the dark. He was wearing just a short, velvety robe, tied in a loose knot. It was a souvenir from Saigon, made of authentic Chinese silk, decorated with Ming designs. The room was dark with moonlight filtering through the window. A lovely summer night, he thought, and soon to be even lovelier.