William Scott: His horny sister

She panted and writhed.

In… in… came his penetrating thrusts, pummeling her, shaking her, driving her to the heights of frenzy as she moaned and gasped and let out little squeals. She felt his big balls shaking as they struck her crotch. His belly slammed noisily against hers. His coarse crotch hair ground into the softer growth on her mound.

She moved ardently against him, pulling against his back with her crossed legs, rasping his shoulders with her hands and letting her nails dig into him through his pajamas.

"Ooh, fuck me… fuck me!" she cried. "Oooh, daaaarling! Lover!" She was about to cum. "Todd!" she squealed.

The shock of heating her utter her brother's name at such a time went through Steve like a paralyzing electric charge. It would have stopped him from achieving a climax except for the fact that he had already reached that point. His cum gushed, but he was in such a state of distressed confusion that he derived practically no pleasure from the release.

He quickly pulled out of her cunt and backed off.

Sharon realized what she had done immediately after the word had come out. Now she looked at her husband anxiously. She didn't know what to say.

"You called Todd's name," he accused. "You were thinking about him while I was screwing you!"

"No, I wasn't," she said desperately. "It was just that we were talking about him before. That must have made me say it."

"Bullshit!"

"Darling, it didn't mean anything," she said, sitting up and trying to embrace him.

"It may have meant a lot," he replied bitterly, twisting away from her. He backed off the bed. "You're mixed up, Sharon."

He went into the bathroom, and she lay back miserably. She asked herself why she had done such a stupid thing. The only answer seemed to be that she had been so afraid Steve would find out about Todd and her that her anxiety had caused her to reveal the truth.

But then she thought, I only mentioned Todd's name – that's all. That didn't really prove anything. I've got to keep hold of myself I can't admit anything, no matter what Steve suspects.

Still, she knew that relations between them had been made even worse than before. Oh, why did Todd have to come back?

Since he had no reason to believe, that Todd had visited Sharon while he was gone, Steve's tentative conclusion was that his wife had a suppressed desire for her younger brother and that this perhaps had driven hex to have relations with another man – maybe a very young man – during his absence. He didn't blame Todd. He began to regard his wife as sick.

When he returned to the bedroom, she tried to talk with him, but he refused to lay down and turned away from her.

She went to the bathroom and, when she returned, found that he had turned out the other lamp. She lay down and stared into the darkness, fretting over the condition of her life. A long time passed before she fell asleep.

The next day Todd suggested that they have a party to celebrate Steve's return from Alaska. "I know a great bunch that lives around here," he said.

Sharon held her breath.

"I thought you were a stranger in Portland," Steve said.

"No, I've gotten up here a few times," Todd replied smoothly. "Once I gave Sharon a jingle – right, Sis?"

"Y-Yes, that's right," she said.

"Mostly, though, I was with these other people and…"

"I understand, Todd," she told him, grateful for an opportunity to downplay their relationship in front of Steve. "Why waste time on your sister when there are chicks to play with him?"

He ginned. "Well, that's about right."

Steve listened to the exchange and glanced back and forth, wondering.

"So, what do you say we have a little bash here tonight?" Todd asked. "Nothing big. You know – just a few kids."

"Sounds like fun," Steve said.

Sharon didn't reply. The idea seemed dangerous to her. She made a mental note to ask Todd, as soon as she could speak to him alone, not to invite any of the people who had seen the two of them together in that night club.

But he left the apartment before she had a chance to speak to him privately.

She worried for the remainder of the day.

Young people arrived for the party singly and in pairs until the Wagner's small apartment had far more people in it than had ever been there before. The beer and booze, which Steve had stocked for the occasion, flowed freely. But not all the guests were drinkers; some preferred to smoke the homemade cigarettes which they had brought with them. Soon the pungent smell of pot filled the air, rivaling the loud rock music in its assault on the senses.

Sharon drank more heavily than she ever had before. She found that the alcohol dulled both her anxiety and frustration while it let her enjoy the strange, wild crowd and their uninhibited ways.

It was impossible to count the number of people present because they kept arriving and leaving. Some of the young men were long-haired; others were neatly trimmed. Their clothes ran the game from Edwardian suits to jeans and T-shirts. The girls offered even greater variety with their miniskirts, maxiskirts, pantsuits and hot pants.

Everyone was packed in tightly, with hardly enough room to change position, let alone to dance. Still, there was dancing going on.

Steve seemed to enjoy himself Sharon noted that the girls were paying a good deal of attention to him. Her brother remained close to her most of the time, fending off the other guys.

Somebody handed Todd a joint, and he lit up.

"What is that?" Sharon asked him over the din.

"Take a puff and find out," he told her, holding the joint up to her mouth.

But she turned away. "I don't smoke," she said firmly.

"This isn't just plain smoking," he said.

"I still don't want any."

She took another sip from her glass. Her head was pleasantly light by this time. Todd drew deeply on the marijuana cigarette, held the smoke in his lungs for a long time, then slowly let it out. He smiled.

Steve likewise had refused some offers of pot and was sticking to bourbon on the rocks. He noted that Todd was staying close to Sharon, and this prompted further wondering on his part. But his thoughts were vague and continually interrupted by conversation's sights and sounds.

By far the most pleasant interruptions were provided by a pretty young brunette named Barbara. She had said she was a "very good friend" of Todd's, but her interest seemed to be in Steve tonight. Feeling as he did – slightly high, resentful of Sharon, and frustrated by the present state of his marriage – he responded positively to Barbara's attentions.

After a while she said, "My sports cars right outside. Why don't we split this scene and go for a drive?"

He grinned at her. "I can't do that. I'm the host."

"Shit, that doesn't make any difference," she said. "Everybody knows where the booze is. And two less people in this room would be a break for the others."

He glanced at Sharon and saw Todd moving close to her, along with a couple of other guys.

"Okay, let's go," he said with a touch of bitterness. "I could use some fresh air."

Barbara's little red Triumph speeded them through the sparse late evening traffic. Steve watched the girl's long hair blowing in the wind and her pink lips, always moist and smiling. Suddenly he wanted to fuck her with a ferocity that surprised him.

She swerved the car to a stop in front of an apartment building. "Here's where I live," she announced, and watched closely to see what his response, would be.

"Have you got a party going, too?" he asked.

She laughed throatily. "Not yet. But in a few minutes… who knows?" She reached across and took his hand.

His prick tensed and threatened to stand straight up.

"Are you inviting me in?" he asked.