Ray Strong - The naughty niece

"You're wonderful," Harriet crooned, not breaking the fuck-rhythm as her lips now reached up and nibbled on his ear. "I'm getting that… feeling… again. Don't slow… down. Hurry, hurry, please!"

Wahl pounded his dick into her hot box like he'd never fucked before, because he felt love with this woman. God, did he feel love. Both were perspiring heavily now, gasping for air, and he was frying to drive his cock clean through her, pinning her to the mattress. His humping merely succeeded in making Harriet reach greater heights on the rainbow. He rammed, shoved and pushed, and the two of them bounced so hard, they were almost coming off the bed. Their bellies clapped together like thunderbolts until Harriet, unable to hold off any longer, tightened her cuntlips about his pistoning cock, stiffened her body beneath his, and tore at his ass with her nails.

She spasmed again and again, squeezing his prick for all it was worth, forcing the second wad of jizz to come blasting out of Wahl's prong, this time into the waiting gap of her cunt. She clasped him tightly to her, her fingers continuing to dig holes in him while her heels now kicked on his ass, trying to convince him to shove his balls into her spasming twat, as well.

Harriet's legs clamped around Wahl's waist. Her cunt muscles tightened around Wahl's cock, and he knew she wasn't finished yet. Leaning forward, she wrapped her arms around his neck, then spun over till she was sitting on top of Wahl, who now lay on his back, his still-hard poker buried in her come-happy quim. The burning heat of her satiny cunt held him locked into her as she did all the work, rocking back and forth. She leaned forward so her small, but full tits rubbed his hairy chest, her nipples touching his. Her quim was so tight Wahl thought her labes would snap his cock off at the root, but rather than lose the feeling, he lay there, letting her rock back and forth. It was heavenly the way her shimmering slit gobbled and held his prong. His grip on her ass tightened as he felt her achieving yet another orgasm. This time it was a complete series, and only after she had reached the highest peak of the evening did Ira Wahl unleash his own final orgasm, inundating her grasping, sucking cunt with whatever was left of his heavy, white spunk.

Their sexual compatibility made marriage a must for Ira and Harriet. And for twelve fabulous years they went through married life with an enjoyment known by very few people. Ira should have been bothered when his wife went off to Europe that first year. It was she who had insisted on the separate vacations, and he had finally acquiesced after a lot of begging on her part. That had been nearly eight years ago.

The first night Harriet was gone, Wahl had gone to the summer cottage with his daughter, then only eight years old, and when he was certain she was fast asleep, he had found himself the first of many summer playmates. That first year he had felt guilty about fucking around on his wife. He felt even more guilty when Harriet, after only two weeks away from him, had turned up at the summer cottage one morning, admitting she couldn't stay away from him the two months she had intended. She also confessed to having laid some other men, but hurriedly assured him no other man could compare to him. Ira Wahl, after having screwed six separate women in those first two weeks, knew he was the last one to berate her for screwing around, and surprised her by accepting it very easily.

Every summer after that, Harriet went away on a separate vacation, only to return after two weeks. It had become a ritual with them. She eventually learned of her husband's infidelities, but accepted them as easily as he had accepted hers. Neither had the courage to admit they would have loved to have swung openly with their mate and another member of the opposite sex. But both wanted it, and each knew the other wanted it.

The telegram Wahl was sending his wife was almost part of their ritual. He wanted to let her know how much he missed her, encouraging her to come back to the States and the summerhouse as soon as possible. Unless she found a cock as fascinating as his and so far she never had, she would be back by next week. It wasn't that Ira Wahl considered himself the world's greatest cocksman. It was simply that he was the greatest for Harriet. She had become attuned to his dick, and it would have taken a Casanova or Don Juan to keep her from him after those two weeks.

In the meantime, he had one week before Harriet arrived. He had to find some cunt to keep himself occupied. He wasn't so young any more, and his paunch had given him an inferiority complex. Lorelei had been great for his ego, but she was a one-fuck woman. He needed others and wandered which of the teeny-hoppers would be available that year.

Every now and again his thoughts wandered to his daughter, Pam. Her body was becoming similar to her mother's, and he secretly admitted to himself he would love to fuck her sweet pussy. Aloud he would never have condoned the idea of incest, but in his mind he could picture himself screwing his delicious daughter. And his niece, Tracey, was starting to look more and more like a woman. He wondered what kind of a lay she would make. But old-fashioned upbringing kept him from doing more than wondering, and he never allowed his thoughts to become too strong.

Shrugging, he made his grocery purchases, then headed back to the cottage.

Evening slowly settled on the tiny summer village. Pam and Tracey made supper for everyone in the cottage, and after supper Ira Wahl told the others he was going to look for a card game and probably wouldn't be back for four or more hours. In reality, he was headed for the village bar where he knew some would-be worldly-wise women in their early twenties were hanging around with nothing better to do. There were the usual pros there, as well. And they got their share of business. But Wahl could always spot the amateurs, the ones who thought it was in to be picked up at a bar and get their asses competently screwed off. His confidence was slowly returning, what with the way Lorelei had made him feel earlier. And that fuck bout with her was just a warm-up. With a little luck he'd find just what he needed, and the heat beginning to build in his balls would cool off.

Ten minutes after Wahl was gone, Pam and Tracey finished doing the dishes. Marty had gone to take another shower.

"Now's your chance," Tracey told her cousin, putting away the last dish.

"I just took a shower before supper," Pam retorted. "Besides, I'm not in the mood to make it in the bathroom. That floor tile is too cold."

"Wait in Marty's bedroom. He hates lights. He keeps it dark in there, and he's always playing that FM radio of his, so no one'll be able to hear what goes on."

"What about you?" Pam asked.

"Tonight's your night," Tracey told her. "You don't want me around when Marty pops your cherry. It'll hurt a little, but I'll bet it's a lot more fun than having it done with a candle."

"But how'll you keep yourself busy?"

"There's always some kind of dumb show on TV. Don't worry. This'll be the last night I spend with a TV set. Somehow, some way, before tomorrow's sun sets, I want that fat cock of your father's working in me, and I expect you to help me if he doesn't go along at first."

"I always keep my promises," Pam solemnly assured her cousin.

Tracey went into the cottage living room and settled in a large chair in front of the TV set after turning it on. Pam quietly sneaked into Marty's room, took off her shorts and halter, and silently waited under the covers of his bed.

Marty, under the rain of the cold shower, totally unaware of what waited for him, was doing his best to wipe out the erotic dreams floating through his head. The sight of Pam's tits, barely held in by her halter, bobbling all over the place that evening, had really gotten to him. He was surprised his uncle hadn't bawled her out for being so open. He had been unaware Ira Wahl's attention had been held by the mini-bikini bottom of Tracey's bathing suit. Wisps of twat hair could be seen above the line of the mini-bottom, as well as hanging out below against each thigh. It had taken a lot of will power on Ira Wahl's part not to grab his niece and fuck the shit out of her.