John Kellerman: Sisters in heat

Marcia was suddenly curious about what his wife had said… about them messing around.

"Gloria told me I could catch you if I hurried," she started, hoping to weave the conversation around to the subject of their marriage.

Nat's face hardened. "I'm surprised you could get her off her back." He found a fresh match and jammed it between his teeth. "She's got at least three back-door men. Must keep her pretty busy."

Marcia decided to let the whole thing drop. She liked Nat better when he was crazy and full of jokes.

"What say I take you out to eat when we get to Denver?"

"Sounds fun!"

"We'll make a night of it. Maybe even take in the amusement park."

But it started to rain hard at Raton. By the time they'd passed Trinidad it was coming down so hard that traffic was crawling. Nat wove the giant rig patiently through the balky traffic and pushed towards Walsenburg. The spinning, red lights of a highway patrol car stopped them five miles short.

"Bridge washed out!" the patrolman called up. He looked wet, even under his slicker. "There's a train off up ahead too. Hell of a mess." The red lights looked like a flying saucer glinting off the pavement. "The road through La Junta is open, but you'll have some backtracking to do."

Marcia noticed how dark it was getting.

Nat rubbed his nose thoughtfully. "Sonofabitch. I guess we'll just pull into that rest stop up ahead and call it a night."

The patrolman waved and went back to another car who'd pulled up.

Nat parked the rig in the truck lane and the two of them ran laughing through the torrent to the rest rooms. When they were back inside the cozy cab, Nat pulled out a small duffel from under the seat. There was a box of crackers, some canned meat and cheese.

"I always try to be prepared for this kind of crap. Driving a truck, you have to be."

Marcia thought it was a wonderful meal. And when they were putting the scraps away, Nat produced yet another surprise. A slim pint of good Scotch.

"Who says truckers ain't got no taste." He swigged and passed the bottle to her.

Marcia felt the whiskey glow almost immediately. She felt better than she'd felt in months. When she leaned back, her head seemed to fit naturally in the crook of her uncle's strong arm. They'd tired of talk for a while. And slowly, inevitably the mood in the cab changed.

The idle rub of Nat's fingers on her shoulder felt too good. So strong and yet so gentle. Marcia found herself imagining a little too much. She tried to shake the thoughts away, but they kept coming back. Nat felt them too, she just knew it. He had sensed something in the heat of her thigh against his… just the heavy, breathless silence was enough.

Marcia closed her eyes and listened to his heart. She was letting herself slip dangerously close to that… that line where two people either had to stop, or cross over. Marcia knew that the slightest gesture could now trigger things she knew were wrong.

Nat. Her loving uncle. Yes… loving. The affection she'd had for him as a child was stronger than ever. But she felt more. The need to make it perfect.

Oh God, what was wrong with her head! She didn't have to conjure up the word. It was there anyway. Incest. Uncles, cousins, brothers, sisters all taboo.

And in a little bit Nat would tuck her to bed in the sleeper and then sit up watching the rain with his bottle and thinking of his two-timing wife back home. How could she let him know that she wished that…

Oh, it was all so complicated.

"Guess you'd better climb into that old sleeper before you pass out and I have to throw you back there," Nat laughed. He patted her shoulder.

Marcia's belly was full of white light. She could be good, do what she was supposed to do. Or she could…

"Nat?"

"Yeah, sugar." His chin just touched the top of her head.

Marcia tilted her chin up, turned her face so that when he looked down their lips would.

Nat kissed her with a anguished moan. She let her head fall back as far as it would go, opened her lips to him.

"Ohhhmmmmm," she gasped against his mouth. "Ohhhh, Nat, I love you!"

He was so strong! His hard arms seemed to ask for her surrender and she ran her fingertips weakly up his chest as he kissed her again… and again. She could see the dark luster of his brown hair, she smoothed it with her palms, tilting her face for him again, begging with a whimper for his tongue.

Nat's hands searched her back. He didn't hesitate to pull her into a position so he could slip under the tight jersey and cup one full tit. Her naked nipple rose timidly against his palm.

Marcia writhed on the seat to get closer. Her hand slipped down onto his thigh. Her hand moved steadily toward that lump in his Levi's where she knew his cock was hot and hard and eager.

"Marcia! My little baby…" He held both her tits now, looked at her as if he still couldn't believe how she'd grown up.

She couldn't meet his gaze for long. Uncle, incest, sin… and yet she had been the instigator. Maybe she was just trash.

"Nat. I knew we shouldn't kiss, but I couldn't help it." Her little finger was against that lump of his cock now. She could feel his prick pulsing. God his cock seemed so big… so much bigger than Sam Philbert's.

"Okay." Nat laughed, slipped his hands away from her tits. "We've had our little fun. You get your ass up in that sleeper now, hear?" He slapped her rear.

Marcia didn't want to take her hand away from that lovely, warm lump. She looked down at his cock-lump with a pout. Nat saw her look.

"Marcia honey, your dad is my brother."

Marcia watched the muscles ripple under his shirt… she watched them hungrily. Outside the rain beat steadily on the metal cab. Rivers of water washed down the windshield, making the lights on the highway glitter like jewels.

They were in their own lovely private world. Marcia was past shame now. She only wanted Nat, wanted him bad enough to cry.

"Make love to me, Nat!" It was a whisper. She let her finger rub the lump of his cock lightly. Even through the layer of jeans his prick was warm to the touch. "Please… oh please."

Nat tilted the pint up, swallowed hard. "I ain't gonna let you have no more of this stuff. Makes you crazy."

Marcia didn't need booze. She was out of her mind. She began to whimper, started unbuttoning the front of Nat's shirt.

"I loved the way you were touching my tits… God, that was so sweet."

"Listen, Marcia…"

She yanked the tail out so she could undo the last button. Then she parted it, looked hotly at the thickly folded muscles of his chest. She opened her soft lips around one taut male nipple and tongued it. She'd never done anything like that in her life, hadn't met a man who'd made her want to. But if it felt so good for a girl, wouldn't a man like it too?

Nat grunted and tried to push her head away, then weakened. She lapped wildly at the knot of flesh, nipped at it with her teeth. Her other hand was working up and down his hard belly. The dark curls there tickled her palm. She pushed his shirt back over his shoulders and began to kiss the other side of his chest.

Nat caught her suddenly, firmly. He held her back by the shoulders and shook her a little.

"That's enough, Marcia! I said, that's enough!"

She sat sulking for a moment. Then she grabbed the pint from the seat and gulped.

Nat took it from her fingers after her third swallow.

She looked angrily at him. Oh God, it couldn't end like this. It just couldn't! Marcia knew she'd gone too far to be worried about propriety any more. And the whiskey had given her another inch of nerve.

She grabbed her jersey at the hem and yanked it off over her head. Nat's eyes locked on her tits as they bobbed free. She knew they were nice tits. They were fully matured and high on her chest. She had the nicest tits in her senior class in high school, no other girl had even come close.