Shawntel's sexual heat makes my blood boil; her perfect body drives me mad with lust. Especially when she is randy and in need of a good, hearty fuck, and let me tell you one and all, she needs lots of good, hearty fucks.
Saying her name, breaking it apart into several sharply defined syllables reminds me of ripe, tasty and forbidden fruit, the kind of tasty, sweet nugget you bite, sends you straight to hell. Hell yes, you still bite down, suck its tart flesh, toy with it playfully, delight in its flavor, fill your mouth with it succulent nectar, let it drip from between your lips and hell you even want to rip into the rind, gulp down the seeds, gnaw the pits into mush, slurp on the stem. Consume it all. Full up with sensation, bursting with bloated completion, caught up the mechanics of its digestion. Damn that cursed, vile snake.
Thinking of fucking her, my cock hardens; heaviness settles in my loins, heat suffuses my skin, my eyes cloud over. We fuck like two young, breathtakingly beautiful animals. I, the buccaneer dallying with a luscious wench, feel like such a rogue immersed in Shawntel's lithe body. The wickedness of our compact makes my body tingle. Shawntel's cock hungry excess spurs me on. Enemies may be at the gate, bombs bursting overhead, and do Shawntel and I care. No, not at all let me tell you.
At a recent cocktail party, a full hipped, big breasted woman in shiny nylons named Gwen stood near me. Sporting a closely cropped, easily maintained shag of shiny black hair, she was a delectable creature with rouged high cheek bones, delicate mouth and a svelte long neck, a paralegal in a near to nothing low cut black sheath showing off her assets so spectacularly she took my breath away. Gwen motioned toward Shawntel, mentioned how thrilled she was being this near to Shawntel's alluring body, wanting her pug nose down in her crack. Can we arrange that you think?
"Honey doll, we are a matched set." I said showing my most becoming smile.
"More the better. You two are so wicked, I like that." Gwen said.
Shawntel was standing next to Gwen arching her eyebrows, cocking her head and from the way she licked her lips I knew what she wished, felt her energy. She was eager and her body wanted attention. She was decked out in a pale blue silk concoction that left little to the imagination. Gwen glanced down; saw my inflated cock jockeying about in my pants, the three of us, each one of us armed with a drink stood in the middle of a room filled with palaver, raucous laughter and back slapping smacks. My eyes signaled an invitation for our happy trio to slip away for a more private encounter. Five minutes later we clustered in one of the many immense and opulent guest bathrooms on the mansion's second floor. Gwen resting on a cool marble countertop, her dress squeezed into a narrow band around her small waist; her feet clad in open toed black pumps, expensive, fashionable ones pressed into my back as I rammed her to the sound of White Snake chewing up the walls with its raucous, pitilessly grinding sound.
Gwen's husband, was maybe thirty-five feet away, sucking up to another gorgeous woman no doubt and that made our congress that much more wicked and delicious even if he was not bothered to be left out in the cold. As I fucked Gwen, her ass hanging out over the pink oval basin, her backside was bumping into the polished bronze faucets. Shawntel was behind me pitched on her knees, her head angled up between my wide spread legs, her mouth sucking my balls while her tongue probed around the exterior rim of Gwen's slash.
Before leaving the bathroom smelling of Yardley lavender soap and squeaky clean guest towels and rose petals in a tiny silver filigree tray on the top of the toilet, Gwen and Shawntel never meeting a male cock they did not like sucking sucked me. My member partitioned between their greedy mouths like it was a disputed country up for grabs, Shawntel licking its eastern realm while Gwen lapped away at its western approach. And in a finale Gwen went down on Shawntel as I watched. My ass back bumped around the commode's porcelain throne. I plucked a few rose petals from the silver tray behind me and rubbed the cool silky leaves against my cock and felt them quickly disintegrate under my furious friction.
After our fuckfest, giddy from drinking bubbly champagne cocktails, way too much pate, Shawntel and I went home, left Gwen and hubby to their own devices, fell into our sumptuous sleigh bed and fucked all night and into the next day.
What makes this so remarkable?
Shawntel and I are twins. Since our eighteenth birthday, we have shared the same bed, slept together contentedly and copulated as thought there was no tomorrow.
Some nights after she climbs into bed, I reach between her creamy smooth thighs, know Dad had fucked her, fucked her beyond any measure of restraint.
In the Hulcer clan incest is no taboo, not considered a vice by any means. The women in our tribe and this includes grandmother, mother and my twin sister, all are blessed with beauty, lithe bodies, a roundness of form and then packed with insatiable needs. The men in our brood are dark; most of us with crisp black hair, our faces smudged with five o'clock shadow, remarkably high foreheads, sharply defined jaws, cock meat not more then average in length and girth but to our women folk these tools still fit the bill. All of us hungry, besotted with our females, endowed with a surfeit of need and want, we partook of each other on the wine cellar's dark racks, in the shallow end of the swimming pool, under the yellow and white striped cabana, in the breakfast nook with a margarine sun sweeping through the leaded windows. How often I have drizzled sugar on Shawntel's snatch sitting at the simple pine table near those leaded windows.
So far our family has not produced any addle brained miscreants. And as you like it, we pride ourselves on taking our pleasure as we see fit to take it.
Shawntel, my slut, my whore she remains to this day. I dab cigars into her twat ala Mr. President and big dildos are thrust in there too. Did he did do that too, I wondered. With Shawntel he most assuredly would and be all the better for it.
Shawntel loves nothing better then a spray of hot sperm across her demure, pretty face. She particularly likes the facials I give her. She adores facials from any cock thrust into her face if truth be known. If I had any gift for poetry, I'd write a sonnet on Shawntel's astonishing capability sucking cock. Few women give head as adeptly as my sexy sister.
Born just a few moments after me, Shawntel is never as beautiful as when she is sprawled in this very boudoir, looking up at me with her pink face covered in my spent semen.
What makes this all the more extraordinary is Shawntel fucking daddy since her 18
th
birthday and me fucking mommy from the same date. Is that a rite of passage or what?
On our eighteenth birthday pop smeared butter on Shawntel's nose, then mine, in remembrance of an ancient Druid ritual. We each opened a little white tissue wrapped box, hers festooned in pink ribbon, and mine girded by a blue ribbon. Inside resting on white cotton Shawntel found silver car keys as did I. Fast, sexy, rip snorting automobiles with high end CD players, leather cockpits and convertible tops. Hers being yellow and mine a nifty fire engine red. We then ate birthday cake and later when quiet settled over the house I was in bed stroking my cock thinking of Mom in all her voluptuous and sensuous splendor giving me some great head while I steered my car through a distant neighborhood of mansions built way back from the road behind winding drive-ways. I imagined the back of her head bumping the steering column. We'd stop somewhere and I eat her on the car hood while she clasped her thighs about my noggin and the heat from the hood seeped into the fabric of her next to nothing dress. In the dream Mom's luscious mouth was drowning my cock in her mouth, her tongue swirling about its head, her lips tickled by my pubic hair.
My imagination not content to fuck Mom on the front of my car I then fixated on her in a white mesh teddy, her bosoms thrusting from their balconet ribbing. I seemed to remember being in bed with her all that night fucking her moist cunt. "Jesus Mom, what a delicious slut you are. Dad is one lucky cock hound."
The bedroom door opened with a blast of air from the hallway, Shawntel entered in a black Brazilian lace teddy slit down the front, her bare feet curving enticingly as she approached the bed, her thighs shined as though appliquéd in moonbeams. She hoisted herself onto the gargantuan bed and I feasted my eyes on her naked snatch peeking from under its tenuously fine line of fabric bedecked with ribbon and feminine mystique.
Shawntel's pubes were unshaved and scented with jasmine.
"Ritchie, let's have a birthday fuck. It is time lover."
"I'm game. First, leave that sexy thing on and come over here and give me some sweet head. I have always imagined your mouth on my cock and now I want it for real."
"Of course I will." She walked around the bed, bent forward a bit.
