Norma Egan - The sister keeper

He raised his head to look at her, and she saw he was flushed and sweaty. "You like it this way?" he smiled.

Jennifer felt great warmth toward him, for the way he unselfishly worked for her pleasure; she wanted him to know how good he was, even wanted to howl out her sensations as his fucking made her feel high and light, flying towards her climax.

"Oh, yes, yes!" she moaned loudly. "You're fucking me so well! I love it!"

Kip grinned and humped her faster. "How about that?"

"Ooooo!" shrieked Jennifer. "My God, yes!"

She was utterly shameless now in her mounting joy, wrapping her legs around his waist, digging her nails into his shoulders, squealing shrilly. Her wild response caught the attention of the others, busy as they were, and there were some appreciative smiles and comments.

"I knew my gorgeous stud could get to her," Laura said proudly. "Congratulations, Kip darling you melted the iceberg!"

"Man, how that little girl is lovin' it!" exclaimed Jack. "Look at that! Hey, Bonnie, you lookin'?"

His wife replied with a piercing squeal that was not meant for him. Harold had just fucked her into a blinding explosion of coming, and the little poet was not far behind her. With a triumphant snort and a furious wriggling of his skinny buttocks, he inundated her cunt with his seed.

"Hey, Bonnie…" Jack began again, but suddenly his face flushed hotly, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he began to jerk his hips. "Aw, shit, yeah!" he bellowed. "Take it, baby, take it all!"

"I feel it!" wailed Laura, grinding her pussy down on his squirting cock. "Ummmm! Oh, oh, me, too! Ahhhh!"

In the midst of Laura's abandoned shrieking, Jonathan's low moans, could hardly be heard. But everyone was aware of the strange noise coming from Ouida, a high, sharp sound, almost like a wounded animal except for its undertone of deep pleasure. Her little cunt was too small to take Jonathan's load, and hot, white come gushed out to splatter his belly.

Everyone was listening, too, as Kip and Jennifer climaxed together. Kip gave a loud howl, but Jennifer was more explicit. "Oh, love," she shouted. "Fuck, fuck, fuck me! I feel it, I feel your cock squirting, making me come! Ah, Ah, AHHHH!"

No sooner had her final spasms passed, then Jennifer was sickeningly aware of the spectacle she'd made, writhing, shrieking, shouting out obscenities to Kip as he balled her. Oh, God, in front of everybody, too! They'd all watched and heard, no doubt of that. They were still watching as she and Kip lay panting and sweaty in each other's arms.

"Well, darling," Laura said archly, summing up everyone else's opinion. "I think you enjoyed our little party after all, didn't you?"

Jennifer awoke the next morning feeling no less wretched and ashamed. She was only glad that Jonathan hadn't spent the night with her. Utterly drained after his evening's activities, he'd gone to his own room and fallen asleep at once. Jennifer had not been so lucky. She'd tossed around for half the night, frying to decide her own future. She still loved the hotel and loved the idea of managing it, but there was one enormous problem now – she wasn't sure that she could stand the kind of role she'd have to play and the people she'd have to play it for. If last night's crowd was a typical selection of the hotel's guests, and if she always had to join their games in order to help business, then she wanted no part of it.

By morning her mind was made up. It killed her to have to leave the Granada Hotel and give up all her happy plans for living there and running the place – but there was no other way. She really couldn't go on living like this. She almost hated the brother she'd hoped to love, and she certainly hated herself. She decided simply to go away, leave the whole thing to Jonathan, and try for work somewhere else in America, although she had no idea what kind of work it would be.

Immediately after breakfast she began packing, certain that Jonathan, exhausted, would not be out of bed before noon. She wanted to be packed and on her way before then, so as to avoid arguing with him. But she was interrupted after half an hour by a loud knock on the door. She sighed. If it was Jonathan, she might as well face him and be done with it, but she dreaded his anger.

"Come in!" she called listlessly.

Dr. Ciardi entered, closed the door behind him, started to speak, and then stopped as he saw the suitcases on the bed. He raised one of his thick, black eyebrows at her.

"What's this? A vacation already?"

"I'm leaving for good," said Jennifer, turning away to avoid his questioning gaze.

"But why? I thought you were enthusiastic about managing the place?"

"I was," she admitted. "But that was before I knew the kind of place it is. Or, rather, the kind of people who come here."

"Aha," said Ciardi. "I think I begin to understand." He came and sat on the edge of the bed while Jennifer nervously paced the rug, wishing he'd leave and let her finish her packing. "Now, tell me all about it," he continued. "Just what is it that bothers you about the guests?"

"Doctor," Jennifer said shortly. "It's very kind of you to take an interest, but there's really no point in discussing it. My mind is made up. I'm leaving, and I want to leave right away. So, if you'll excuse me…"

"Hold on," he muttered. "Hold on! I want to be sure you're making the right decision. It's a shame to give up this fine old hotel and leave it all to that playboy brother of yours. Why do you find the guests unbearable? Oh… not that I don't find them unbearable a lot of the time – but I want your reasons."

"Very well." Jennifer decided to satisfy his curiosity quickly, then send hint away. "I suppose I'd have to say it's their morality, or their lack of it. They seem to be a bunch of sex fiends, that's all they ever think about or do. I can't work with such people."

"Sex fiends?" Ciardi smiled. "Certainly there's a lot of hanky-panky going on, but it strikes me as harmless fun."

Jennifer reddened indignantly. "Harmless? Fun? I see that you're no different from them!"

Still he smiled. "Miss James, what makes you so uptight about sex?"

"Please leave," she said icily. "I see no point in continuing this talk."

"No, I want to get to the bottom of this. You fascinate me. First you come to my office to complain that you're horny all the time, that you can't get laid often enough, and now you're bitching because the guests, in your opinion, are preoccupied with sex. You'll excuse me if I'm puzzled. But perhaps you can explain?"

Jennifer burst into tears. His words were crude but accurate. She had contradicted herself, had been a terrible hypocrite. "Oh, Doctor," she sobbed. "I feel so confused!"

"So do I," he answered. "But let's work on it now. Let's try to solve your problem. Come here." He extended a hand and drew her over to sit beside him on the bed, putting his arm around her shoulder in a paternal manner. "To begin with, Miss James, I repeat what I said in my office – there is nothing abnormal about your libido. A woman your age ought to have a strong desire for frequent sex. The question is, having this desire, why can't you enjoy it?"

Jennifer blushed horribly but forced herself to answer him. He was offering help, and, God knows, she needed it! She said haltingly, "I really don't know why, Doctor, but I just can't be easy about it, especially afterwards. I feel so guilty, so soiled! But even when I – when I'm doing it, I feel it's dirty and wicked."

"I see. Excuse me for making like Freud, but please tell me about your childhood. Who raised you, and how?"

Briefly Jennifer told him about her aunt and her strict principles, including her lectures on the evils of men and sex. Ciardi shuddered.

"My God," he said when she had finished. "With an upbringing like that, all that stupid, puritanical indoctrination, it's a wonder you even lost your virginity! But, really, don't you see now how wrong all those ideas are? Don't you see that – if you'll pardon the vernacular – she was full of shit?"