Frank Levy: One bed family

"This room here will be yours, Miss Cindy." The room was plain and had been kept neatly, but was now dusty and stuffy. She opened a window. Sam pointed. "I sleep out on the porch there in the summer time, right outside your window." His face was a little flushed. She was going to have to be careful to keep the shade drawn, she decided.

"Papa's room is next door to yours. Junior and Mary Lou sleep in the room across the hall."

"Junior and your sister sleep in the same room?"

"Yes, and so do I in cold weather. We only got the three bedrooms and we always leave this one for the housekeeper."

They went back to the living room. There were the three of them in a row on the sofa, their eyes glued to the boob-tube. Junior was sitting in the middle, his huge cock jutting out of his pants. He was jacking slowly on his dork, occasionally lifting his narrow, muscular hips up a fraction of an inch from the cushions in little fucking thrusts. The lap of his blue jeans was already covered with dribbles of a load of cum he had shot off.

"It keeps him quiet and happy," Sam whispered over her shoulder. "Just don't pay him no mind." She did the best she could, but it was a damned hard sight to keep her eyes from. She sat in one of the arm chairs and tried to concentrate on the television set. Sam sat on the floor next to her feet like a guard dog.

When the show finished, Junior got up with a massive yawn, his massive cock still hard and jutting up like a flagpole from his hips. "Come on, Sis, let's get to bed," he said to Mary Lou. She lazily got up and left the room with him. Cindy's head whirled with thoughts of what their bedroom scene must be like. She was beginning to get the picture of how this household worked.

The sound of the washing machine in the cellar stopped, and the television set was quiet for a moment. Yes, she could clearly hear the sounds of bedsprings creaking rhythmically! She was sure of it! Junior was busy fucking his sister in the bedroom right next door!

She hopped up out of her chair, unable to sit still and listen to those sounds. "I've got to put the laundry in the dryer," she announced.

"You need any help, Missy?" Big George asked. He had a certain look on his face, and he had been putting away the beer pretty heavily.

"No, no! I can handle it myself," she said brightly.

"Okay. I'm so tired I can't move anyway. I just got in from a long haul this mornin'. That's why I fell asleep this afternoon." He looked like he was going to go to sleep on the sofa, and she couldn't think of a better idea in the whole world!

"La me help you, Miss Cindy," Sam asked. His eyes were so big and beautiful she had to say yes.

When they got downstairs, he looked at her soulfully. "Now that you know, are you going to leave?"

"I don't know, Sam. It's none of my business, but it is disturbing."

"Please don't go, please, Miss Cindy!" He moved toward her in the dim light of the cellar, his crotch swelling rapidly. "I haven't even touched your hand yet. Please don't go. I like you."

Cindy drew back from him involuntarily. Her heart was racing, and her hands were cold and shaking on the top of the old washing machine. "Don't, Sam, don't," she said in a gasp of breath.

His eyes filled with tears, shining in the dim light in the cellar. "I won't hurt you, Miss Cindy. I won't touch you if you don't want me to. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I frightened you." His voice broke off in a sob, and she found herself reaching for him and drawing him to her. She nestled hie head between her tits and cradled it in her arms, rocking him back and forth as if he were a little boy. One moment she was terrified of his touch, and in the next she felt more like a mother toward him.

"Hush, hush, it's all right. Tell me about it Sam. It's just so strange to me. I was nervous and scared. I just don't know you very well yet. How long has this been going on?"

He sighed into her bosom, his hot breath blowing through the cloth of her blouse and warming her tits like the touch of a hand. "Not long, at least not with Mary Lou. Junior, he's always been pretty weak in the head and always playing with himself, he started messing around with Mary Lou, and, well, I guess she liked it just fine. Then Papa, he caught them fucking one night, and he was drunk, and he got in bed with them and fucked her too. I hadn't ever been with a girl before, and Junior was doing it with her, and Papa, too, so I, I did, too. Oh, it's so horrible, I wish I was dead!" He started sobbing again. "It's so wrong! I'll never be clean again!"

Cindy patted him on the head while he cried and tried to understand the situation in her own head. She had had no brothers or sisters, her parents had died so young that she could hardly remember them. She had been raised by her mother's parents, kind, sweet old people who loved her but never scented to understand what it was like to be young.

Her first reaction was revulsion and fear – a father having sex with his daughter, brothers fucking their sister! But after the first shock, she was merely curious. Was it so wrong after all? Her mind was in a spin.

"You, you didn't force her, did you?" she asked finally.

"No, not at all. It was her fault just as much as Junior. She was curious about him beatin' his meat and wanted to do it for him. She wants us to do it with her. I always thought that girls didn't like to fuck. I thought it was just guys who wanted it, and the women just put up with it."

Cindy had to laugh in spite of the pitiful sounds he was making. "You heard wrong on that, Sam. Women like sex just as much as men do, if not more."

"Do you like to fuck, Miss Cindy?" he asked right into the cleft between her breasts. She was suddenly aware again of the bulge between his legs. The heavy, long bulge that was now pressed against her hip. She gently pushed him back to look into his face and to get his hot and horny body a little further away from hers.

"I don't think that that is any of your business, Sam. That is not the proper kind of question for a boy your age to be asking a woman."

"Yes'm. I'm sorry. I know it's not right for someone like me to be talking dirty to you."

"It's not dirty, Sam, and you aren't dirty, either. It's just that, well, we don't know each other very well. Those matters are very private and personal. We'll talk about it more some other time, some time when I'm thinking a little more clearly than I am right now. You help me get this laundry in the dryer and get another load in the machine. Perhaps we can talk some more tomorrow."

They finished the laundry and came back upstairs to the living room. Big George was stretched out on the sofa, sound asleep and snoring his head off. Sam went into his father's room and brought back a blanket and put it over him on the couch. Cindy turned off the television and went to her room. She sat on the edge of her bed for a long time and listened to the sounds around her in the night. She glanced at the window shade which she had drawn carefully down over her window.

She could tell that Sam wasn't asleep out there on his bed on the porch. His breathing was harsh and troubled, and he was tossing and turning on the bed. She sighed from exhaustion and worry and decided that what she needed was a long, hot bath.

She opened her suitcase and took out a nightgown and bathrobe and her hair brush. She went down the hall to the bathroom and listened to make sure that no one was around. She slipped inside and turned on the light. She was relieved to find that there was a lock on the door and only one window which had frosted glass in it. She locked the door behind her and checked to make sure that no one could look in through the keyhole. Then she turned the hot water on in the big cast-iron bathtub and began to undress.