Kent Collins - First Time For Sister

It seemed to Hanson that she was caving in around his tickling, scratching hand… pressing it tighter against her delicate parts. And in the sweet heat of her dripping little nest he could feel each sharp, hot throb as Alicia came. Her eyes were closed and her pink tongue lolled halfway out of her spit-damp mouth. With each crest of pleasure, she twined warm fingers around his hand and cooed the whimpering sounds of complete surrender. Her body jerked then and with one final shudder of her frail shoulders, Alicia fell backward on the bed and Hanson carefully pulled his fingers from her frothy slit.

It was cool at the bar. Hanson had just poured his glass full of beer and set the bottle down in front of him when Alicia stumbled into the doorway, an enraptured look on her face. He turned then and saw the slender brown legs… the soft dark eyes still bedroomy with promise.

Elsie was behind the bar washing glasses, and when she noticed her daughter's face she chuckled softly and fished another heavy mug from the suds.

"I bet you ain't even collected so much as fifty cents yet, have you?"

Elsie scolded.

Alicia lowered her face a little, still smiling. "Naw, ma'am. I kinda fell asleep."

Elsie winked at Hanson, then poked her mouth out at her daughter. "He mighta just walked outta here if he'd a mind to. You lucky it's Hanson and not some hot-dog dude from Dooberville."

Again, Alicia looked down, nodding solemnly. "Yes'm." Then she beamed a radiant look at Hanson and rubbed a palm over her tingling breasts.

"But golly damn, he's the best-lookin', best-lovin' man I ever saw and …"

Elsie interrupted, "… and you just couldn't keep from enjoying yourself. That right, girl?"

Alicia fumbled at the ribbon on one of her braids. It had come untied, and some of her shiny black hair was escaping. "Yes, ma'am, that's right."

Hanson gulped some beer and held out his hand to Alicia. "She's a mighty fine girl, Elsie. Don't be too hard."

Alicia swayed shyly over to him and he tied the ribbon back. It tickled Hanson the way she'd suddenly lost the sophistication that she had tried to use on him in the bedroom. Now she was just a little girl again… a little girl who'd been reminded that a fuck is first and always a fun thing to do. He looked up into her dark eyes and found nothing but adoration.

"Seems as though your daughter has taken a liking to me, Elsie," Hanson said.

"She could do worse." Elsie clinked the glasses together and dried her hands on her apron. "Lots worse."

While Hanson sipped his beer, he felt the little lynx next to him move her sinewy body closer. After a snuggle or two, Alicia stretched her head up and kissed him longingly on the side of his neck. Across the room Elsie looked up from the beer she was drawing herself, and frowned.

"Now, listen here, Alicia. This man come all the way out here lookin' fer a little relaxation." She shifted a heavy hip and shook her finger at her young daughter. "You about to make him think he done caught a wife."

"Ohhh, Mama," Alicia pouted, "I just want him to know… I like him."

"Sure," Elsie grumped, "but just don't go hangin' on him all the time.

Lotsa men don't like that after a tumble."

"It's okay, Elsie," Hanson said, grinning. He pulled some change from his pocket and laid it on the table for the beer. Then he pulled a flat-folded ten from his watch pocket and pushed it secretively into Alicia's hand, gently folding her thin fingers around it as he leaned close to whisper.

"I'll be out again sometime."

Alicia went suddenly gloomy. "When?"

Hanson framed her soft face with his hands and pressed a wet, lingering kiss against her mouth. Then he stood up.

"Sometime soon."

While Hanson drove back along the narrow tree-lined road, He patted out the rhythm of a Charlie Mingus tune he'd heard in a New York club and tried to hum what he could remember of the bass line. Elsie had made him take a cold six-pack when he left her place and now he had a freshly opened bottle cradled between his thighs. It felt cool and good there sweating against his jeans.

Hanson had been hoping that he could forget about pussy for a day or two after balling so beautifully with Alicia. But already he knew it was useless to try. It gave him a bitter kind of amusement to realize that the problem wasn't with Pamela Whittier any longer. Just in the short time he'd spent back in the hills, Pamela's face had faded some in his mind and he was certain that as the weeks rolled by, his Boston dilettante would become only a dim flower in the jungle of his life.

There was someone else now… and unfortunately it wasn't Alicia Shelton. Hanson slugged at the beer bottle and let the bubbles sting his throat. Billie-Ann Wheeler had already wedged herself deep into his soul, and the troubles he faced were innumerable if he wanted to do anything about his desire for the girl. Already he'd recognized the improbability of her being able to make it with him sexually. Though her twitching little ass was gloriously wonderful to look at, Hanson seriously doubted he could get so much as the head of his cock into her cunt. And he still hadn't taken into account the fact that Billie had grown up amidst the worst kind of bigotry and ignorance.

"Shit!" he laughed, tipping his beer bottle up again. "Just listen to me dream." Billie was bright enough… but skittish. Living in the hills of Missouri gave her a right to be, he guessed. To even consider the possibility of getting close to her supple body was the stupidest kind of dreaming. But then Hanson knew he'd always been a little crazy about pussy.

"Yass, yass!" he roared against the wind that poured through the vent window. "I'm a pussy fool and proud of it!"

At the fork he swung the truck right and started up the road towards his folks' place. The relief he'd felt after leaving Elsie's was long gone and the crotch of his blue jeans was tightening steadily. What if Billie did come down to Basset's Pond like he'd asked her to? He knew he was good when it came to talking girls into bed. In his whole life Hanson hadn't met a girl he couldn't finally soften up.

He rubbed his aching groin and finished his beer quickly before he dared let his mind wander further. The only thing he could do was play it all by ear. There was only a slim chance anyway that Billie-Ann would actually consider meeting him alone in the woods.

"I hope she doesn't," Hanson said aloud, only half meaning it. "Keep me out of trouble that way."

For a long time after her stepmother had bawled her out for riding home with Hanson, Billie-Ann just sat on her bed, too angry even to look at the dirty pictures she'd sneaked in. Billie had never liked her stepmother much anyway and now she decided that the haggy old woman was out to get her.

Of course she shouldn't have been with Hanson like that, but he'd been nice enough and no harm had come of it. Nora's anger made her want to rebel against the old woman's prejudices. Their family had lived near Hanson's folks for years. It seemed wrong somehow, Billie thought, for Nora to blame her for something as innocent as getting a lift home.

And there was something else that made Billie feel that her step-mother had been unfair to Hanson. Hanson Allen had actually told her she was pretty! Oh, he was colored and all that, but he did say it and nobody had told Billie anything so nice since her daddy had left a long time before. She blushed from thinking about it and only wished that Hanson hadn't caught her peeking at the crotch of his jeans.

After a while, Billie felt better and went over to stand in front of the cracked mirror on her dresser. She fluffed her long hair out, then hooked it behind her ears, turning first one way and then the other… pleased with the way it looked. Is that what Hanson had seen in her?