Mark Carver - An affair with sis

It was a little past two, Sandy noted as she drove the quiet streets home. She was contented, but tired. She'd trained Ellen well. When the girl gave a blowjob, she held nothing back. She would miss Ellen. For a little while.

In about one week Sandy would be ready to climb the walls, if she didn't score a new girl. She was already eager to use a dildo and whip on almost any girl that crossed her path, and in a few more days, she would be seething with violent urges.

A blonde would be perfect. A year of Ellen's dark-curled pussy, her soft white ass was enough. If she could only find someone like Linda. What a body on that mink! The first time she saw Linda in a bathing suit, Sandy found an excuse to disappear for thirty minutes so she could finger-fuck herself lustfully and fantasize sex with Al's sister.

At home, Al was soon asleep and didn't even stir when she crawled in bed beside him. Sandy kissed him tenderly on the lips and turned away on her side. She loved her husband like any devoted wife. She just happened to love hot young pussy, too. Poor Al, she thought as she started drifting off to sleep. If he knew what his faithful wife was doing on the sly all this time.

As cunning as Sandy was, there were more than a few surprises in store for her in the following week.

Sandy did not know that poor Al, as she thought of her ruggedly hung husband, slept so peacefully because he spent nearly two hours savagely fucking his own sexy sister that afternoon. In her sultry mouth, in her wild cunt and in her tight, searing asshole.

Sandy couldn't even begin to guess what was going on in her husband's mind. If she could have known that Al warned a three-way with her and his nympho-sister, she would have started coming all over herself with sheer eagerness.

But if the hot-cunted brunette could have guessed what was going on in. Ellen's mind at that moment, her mouth would have popped open like a lovely little pussy eager for action.

She'd made her decision to dump her passionate little girlfriend, and that was that.

Ellen had different ideas. The student nurse was not about to be cast aside so easily. The smoldering dark-haired girl had a few lusty surprises of her own, for Sandy.

Hell hath no fury like a hot young pussy scorned.

Ellen didn't sleep that night. After Sandy left, she lay in bed nervously smoking and thinking in the dark. Ellen was a sensitive girl, and the message in Sandy's eyes, in her movements, was quite clear to the girl.

Sandy was dumping her. It was as simple as that. She could feel it in the pit, of her stomach, a sinking sensation. The brunette was tired of her, finished with her, probably already planning to search for a new girlfriend, an eager, whimpering new sex-slave.

Ellen brooded about that for hours. She examined her alternatives. She could just shrug her shoulders, accept it as part of a shitty unpredictable life and look for someone else's beautiful ass to kiss.

But the quiet, slender student nurse could never be that cool or composed. There was a volcano of passion smoldering deep inside her, and the lusty nurse had stirred it dangerously awake.

For more than an hour, Ellen wondered about blackmailing Sandy. Not for money, just for the icy pleasure of vengeance. But that didn't appeal to Ellen. She wasn't vindictive or spiteful. She desperately wanted to hang onto the sexy brunette at any cost.

The answer finally came to her around ten that morning, after a long, sleepless night.

The answer was crazy, almost diabolical, but it combined vengeance, of a sort, and the possibility of hanging onto Sandy. For a few more months anyway.

It was bold, too. Sandy might get furious, but there was nothing she could really do about it.

Finally, Ellen fell asleep with a faint smile on her luscious mouth. She would do it, and no one could stop her. After all, it was Sandy's idea in the first place!

Sandy had been miffed at her because Ellen hadn't been fucking guys. So the student nurse would do just that.

Beginning with Sandy's husband, Al.

That Saturday morning, with the prospect of a sunny weekend before them, the residents of Shoreline usually either left town for the weekend or just generally avoided the beaches. The tourists came down from San Francisco and San Jose in hordes, jamming the beaches, raising hell, and turning the quiet town into a noisy chaos for the locals. Monday morning everything returned to normal. That influx persisted all summer long, disappearing after Labor Day and not returning until Memorial Day weekend.

So the beaches were out for the locals that weekend.

Usually, Al and Sandy puttered around the house, relaxing. Sandy would tan herself in the backyard while Al would drink beer and work on his motorcycle. Or they'd invite Jim and Linda over for dinner on Saturday night and play poker afterward or shoot pool in the basement.

This Saturday Sandy told Al she was driving up to San Francisco to do some shopping. Would he like to come? He shook his head, and Sandy felt a wave of relief. He usually didn't come along anyway but the shopping she had in mind included a visit to a sex specialty store. She had to replace the dildo and the whip.

At one that afternoon, Sandy kissed her husband goodbye and drove north.

At one-thirty, Al's phone rang. He picked it up, figuring it was Jim or Linda. It was a girl's voice, soft and hesitant.

"Yeah?" Al said, a fresh can of beer in his hand.

"Urn, I don't know if you remember me, Al, but my name is Ellen. I'm a friend of Sandy's. I work at the hospital with her as a student nurse. Remember?"

Al frowned, thinking. Vaguely the memory of a slender dark-haired girl with huge dark eyes and a foxy body came back to him.

"Oh, yeah, I remember you, Ellen. But Sandy isn't here. She had to go up to San Francisco on a shopping spree. You want me to have her call you when she gets back this evening?"

"No," Ellen said, her voice relieved. "It's you I want to talk to, Al. It's important. Very important. Urn, can you come over to my apartment for a little while?"

What's up? Al thought curiously. "You can't tell me on the phone, huh?"

"No. It has to be in person. Here's my address." She rattled it off and Al scribbled it down. After he hung up, he swigged at his beer and smoked a cigarette, trying to guess what she wanted. Maybe hospital gossip or some crap like that. He remembered Ellen now. She was sort of quiet and mousy but had a pretty face and a very foxy body.

Al prided himself in estimating what kind of a fuck a woman would be just from looking at her. He wasn't always right, but he was doing better than eighty percent. He had a hunch the slender girl was a very hot fuck, one of those smoldering types who couldn't get enough cock once she got rolling.

The trouble with her type was to get her rolling.

Al took a couple of cold cans of beer along with him, just in case she didn't keep booze on hand. He revved his Harley and took off across town, his eyes scanning the tourists, singling out the college girls from San Jose. A couple of them eyed him in return and he grinned at them, revving his bike.

Like the good old days when he was bagging everything in sight, fucking so many girls from out of town on weekends that his prick was raw and chafed most of the time. Al sighed, remembering the wild times. But he was married now to a terrific fuck.

Besides, he had to keep his horny sister happy as well.

He found the apartment complex, parked his cycle, grabbed his beer, which was in a bowling bag, and rang her buzzer.

She was wearing a blue robe, looking sleepy, but she gave him a wide, nervous smile when she let him in.

Al sat in the living room, opening a fresh beer. She declined one, drinking coffee instead. He studied her carefully. Nervous as hell for some reason. She was also eyeballing his rugged body. Al wore a T-shirt and jeans which showed off his rippling muscles.