“Life is very difficult, isn’t it, Stanley?” sighed the gray-eyed, pensive girl in the blue bathing suit.
The husky youth who sat Buddha-fashion by her side suppressed the smile which might have offended his sister-in-law in her present essay at a philosophical mood. “It’s no cinch,” he agreed gravely. “It’s nothing to rave about. The best thing is to follow the path of least resistance: to do what you want as nearly as possible and to let the codes and customs of the majority-composed entirely of asses-hamper one very little at most.”
“But surely,” she objected, turning for an instant a pink and pretty face, her forehead puckered with thought, upon him. “Surely that is cynicism-and one is not made happy by becoming cynical. Down through the generations mankind must have been making some progress in regulating itself wisely and so the rules which men have evolved should be followed as the nearest approach to wisdom in conduct which is available.”
In her earnestness-and the pleasure at finding herself in communion for the first time with a very likeable brother by marriage-who had heretofore shown her only a frivolous side-Marion Stone ceased to regard the blue waters so near at hand and turned upon an elbow to gaze at him. In the process of moving, she extended at full length a pair of unusually charming and quite naked legs. Dimples hovered distractingly just about the knees, vague suggestions of rose in skin which was otherwise of a tender, immaculate whiteness. Her thighs sloped gradually upward into soft fullness just below the tight blue trunks. The round calves sloped downward to the symmetry of her ankles which the man’s five fingers could easily have surrounded. Her slender bare feet were as white as milk, except for the ten polished pink gems of the nails.
Marion stirred uneasily as she noted what seemed the ardent attention of his gaze upon the nude limbs, which she was now for the first time showing him so fully. She laid a semi-shielding and equally well-molded arm along a thigh.
Since Stanley Cochrane noted a wee moue of apparent regret that he should seem to be paying attention to matters, other than her words, and since a slow flush arose in the face of the pretty Marion, his brown eyes became immediately profound, as if, though fixed upon her person, they were in reality just the windows of the pondering mind which she had aroused by her reflections.
“Er-I was thinking, Maro-“ he began.
“Maro,” she murmured pleased. “No one else calls me that. I think I rather like it.”
“A rich thing and mine own,” he observed modestly. “I feel that I must have my own copyrighted cognomens for those of whom I am especially fond.”
“Very dear and very flattering of you,” said the girl, jerking her pretty head in a pseudo-curtesy restricted by her posture.
“I think up dainty names for all the few I love.”
“Oh, love! On the third day of our acquaintance?” she smiled gently but with no coquetry whatever. “’Fond’ was nice, but ‘love’!”
“Do you discard the proffered and genuine affection of your brother?” he inquired sternly. “Are there no longer hearts in the young girls of America? In that case, woe be upon this frigid and unhappy land!”
“Of course we have hearts. I have a nice warm one-but it’s not on my sleeve, even when I wear a sleeve. I’m quite prepared to-yes, even love-my brother. I’ve always wanted a brother and I think you’ll do nicely. But, well, I guess it was the way you said ‘love’ that jarred me just the least bit.”
“Be that as it may,” he said hastily, with a swift look into the clear and candid gray eyes, “I suppose a fellow’s voice may slip as well as his foot. But, if I had known you were so sensitive to intonations, I’d have telegraphed what I wanted to say. The fact is, nevertheless, that-what was it I was going to say? Oh, yes-I had a sweet name for your sister, Mildred. I called her Mildew. But do you suppose she appreciated the poesy of it?”
“How mean! A darling, lovely girl like Mildred!” cried the younger sister. “And they told me when I got back from California-after you had swept her off her feet and married her-that you called her Glory, short for Glory of all the world! Men are nice things to have about!”
“Thank you. I was certain I could quickly convert you to that theory,” he smiled.
“I shall marry at the age of eighty-two,” Marion told the blue water of Lake Michigan.
“I advise seventy-five-when you will still be sweet and full of distilled ardor,” he suggested. “That will give you fifty-five years more in which to sow wild oats from here to Suez.”
His sister-in-law flushed sensitively and he knew it was because of his use of the word “ardor.”
“You have a very bad effect on a person,” she decided. “I was talking seriously trying to bring worthwhile ideas into our conversation and suddenly I find we are talking nonsense.”
“I love only serious thoughts myself,” he observed. “It is only when trying to humor some minx that I ever converse lightly, and I was about to advise you, when you became flippant, not to count upon any advance in mankind down through the ages save in material progress. He is much less worthy of, say, Plato and Aristotle. And the best thing to do is to thumb your nose at his rules and regulations, which are calculated to make life even more drab than it need be.”
“Heavens! That would lead us to chaos-to paganism-to anarchy!”
“And the best thought of the ages,” he went on eloquently, “boils down to the question of whether anyone ever informed you that your legs are without superiors and equals among the snowy and superb limbs which have launched ships and many more important things?”
“I knew it was a mistake,” mourned Marion distressedly, “to put on this indecent suit and come out here with you. Mildred laughed at the prim one I brought from Grandmother’s in California. This is one of hers-and I’m afraid I bulge here and there, more than she does. But I outweigh her by only eight pounds and she swore it was just right for me. When I protested she told me not to be silly but it’s you who are being silly!”
She was rosy now sitting upright with the admired and admirable legs clasped in her arms and with knees bent seeking what concealment was possible.
“See,” he remarked placidly. “You ruin the dimples when you bend your knees like that. You iron them out very wasteful. I fear they are gone for good. No, by George! There is one back again when I straighten out a leg once more. I believe that, if properly coaxed, I might go so far as to apply a kiss of welcome to that wandering dimple, which I thought gone forever. I am liberal that way.”
“Stanley Cochrane, don’t you dare, kiss my knee!” gasped the girl. “Of all things!”
He smiled up at her flushed face. His breath was warm upon her skin, mere inches away from the dimple which so enticed him. His fingers delighted in the velvet smoothness of the thigh and calf which he had grasped in straightening out, with gentle force, the naked leg nearest him. “What a fussy sister! One can’t even demonstrate one’s warm affection for her,” he said. “Don’t blame me, little dimple. I was about to welcome your return with affection but the iron-souled boss says no. I suggest, Maro, he went on, sitting up and removing his dismaying hands from the lovely limb, “I suggest that your dimples-and all other forbidden spots be courtplastered as a warning to tempted lips. That would include each cheek, both knees, probably your shoulders and loins, maybe your white little stomach, and perhaps even other places.”
“You are being nothing short of horrible!” said the blushing damsel. “I think we had better go back to the house.”
There was genuine amusement in his smile and some touch of incredulity, as well. “You’re almost too good to be true, Maro,” he said. “The funny part of it is, you’re real-all these cute little pruderies, I mean. You launch into philosophy to try to hide a certain confusion over finding yourself in a scant and marvelously becoming bathing suit with a member of your own household. Oh, yes, I know what started you off! And it jars you so obviously even to hear the word ‘leg’ from a man’s lips that I am tempted to follow you about for a couple of days, calling out ‘Leg, leg’ at intervals and watching you blush.”
“I-well, I suppose I do appear prudish,” confessed his newly acquired relative. “I’m beginning to realize that from the way Mildred laughs at me and her friends smile. I guess I’ve drifted behind the times at Grandmother’s house, practically alone with her for the past seven years, ever since our parents died. Mildred was with Uncle Frank and Aunt Josephine, you know, and she had no prim governess bringing her up as I had. I don’t like to feel that I’m different from the rest of you in this lovely little colony on the lake. I’d rather be laughed at gently though, the way Mildred and the other girls do, than to feel that I’m a sort of a wet blanket, to see people constrained when I’m around, not feeling I’m one of them,” the maiden went on, warming to a subject which had evidently preoccupied her.
“I want to be liked, you see, and I don’t want to appear critical. But some of the things said and done all about me do fluster me and I can’t help showing it, I suppose. In our nice eyrie on the cliff over the beach I knew vaguely that times and ways were changing, especially among young people. But I had no idea-why, for instance, Grandmother would certainly have fainted if she’d seen Mildred calmly letting Gerard Crandall stroll into her boudoir while the pedicure man was busy on her feet. But nobody except me seemed to think a thing of it, and you only grinned and winked at me when you saw me get uncomfortable. Yet her legs were bare-and crossed, too-and that Gerry perched on an ottoman right in front of her. And the man had such informal ways of twisting her legs-you see, I can say the awful word now-while he worked on her feet. And I knew, Stanley Cochrane-and you knew-that she had practically nothing on! She’s as nice as a girl can be, my sister, but I can’t accustom myself to such changes in what is thought proper! Grandmother would fully have expected you to take both those men by the neck, knock their heads together and push them out, especially as one couldn’t help seeing how impertinent their eyes were and how they kept trying to see more. And as for Mildred, she would have put her on bread and water, even if she is twenty-two and married!”
“Well, well, well!” ejaculated the smiling Stanley. “We’ve got the young nun to unburden her mind, haven’t we? But what are a few legs, Maro, dear, between friends? It is exactly that preoccupation with concealment, with artificial, silly conventions that made the generations of your grandmother and our parents about as nasty-minded a crew as the world ever saw. The chance view of the lace on a pair of drawers and maybe a bit of girlish skin beneath it would send a fellow into convulsions in those days. And if a male statue wore only a fig leaf the mind of the female observer was instantly at work with dire imaginings of what lay beneath!”
“Stanley, how can you be so gross!” exclaimed the flushed Marion. “Oh, I know you don’t mean to be insulting, that it’s just this new broadmindedness, I suppose you all call it. But that reminds me…”
A new grievance to be discussed with her novel father confessor took her mind from his own offence.
“They’re forever cracking horrid jokes,” she said, “all these young people, married or unmarried. Everybody laughs and then I watch them watching me to see how soon I will catch the wretched point and to see me blush when I do. And I would never see it at all most of the time if it weren’t for their reactions, which force me to see an indecent allusion after a bit. But it makes me feel as if they look on me as backward and stupid, and I’m not stupid, I’m not!” “No, you most certainly are not. You are about the cleverest of the bunch as far as mind goes,” he agreed. “Just wriggle your little toes again, Maro. I like to see them squirm that way in the sand-they’re too cute for words.”
“You’re a horrid great silly yourself!” proclaimed his pretty sister-in-law turning full upon her back and thrusting the dainty toes deeply into the soft sand for concealment. “And why should I be taking you for a confidant in these matters, I can’t think. And another thing-that Gerry Crandall snatched up one of Mildred’s bare feet when he got up to go and he kissed her toes. And she kicked at him with the other foot and, well, she certainly needed bloomers or something at that instant. Of course all this would never have happened if you hadn’t been right there, grinning and taking it as a joke, for she’s devoted to you. You know that very well.”
“You sweet babe!” whispered her companion so low as to make it apparent that he hardly knew he was audible in his exclamation.
The gray and admirable eyes turned swiftly upon him in surprise while the dusky gold of her head lay still. It was clear that Marion had intended an admonition against an exclamation worded too affectionately. But she started when she saw his reddened face glow amid its tan, the brown eyes glow even more noticeably, and the fine lips and the strong fingers none too steady.
“What-what-!” she stammered, stricken into immobility by his visible and inexplicable agitation.
Stanley drew a long breath and passed the back of a sun-bronzed hand over his eyes. “It’s your position, little Miss Innocence,” he remarked. “Your position and the fact that Mildred hardly realized, no doubt, how your lovely body would strain the light mesh of that bathing garment.”
The girl did not comprehend even yet, though she was trembling and flushing under his eyes.
She had raised her round knees and parted them in order to bury her small white feet in the sand when he had too openly admired the toes. Her lithe, well-fleshed, and adorably formed body was encased as in a second skin by the taut garment, whose scantiness was emphasized by the position she had thoughtlessly assumed.
Stricken mute, bewildered by his sudden excitement, she would have lowered her knees and rolled upon her face. But he stayed her with a gentle hand and voice, taking himself under control.
“Lie just as you are, Maro,” he said, “while I itemize for you your offences against the tranquility of a hitherto pure mind, while I show you that you are just a darling white serpent in this Eden, preaching Victorianism but a living, breathing, lovely temptation yourself.”
“Do, please, Stanley, not be that way!” quavered the uncomprehending Marion-beginning, nevertheless, to understand and to blush furiously. “I should never have worn this thing, I realize now. I did tell Mildred so but she said I was a nincompoop and that I mustn’t be so ridiculously modest, especially when I was going to bathe with my brother-in-law.”
“Mildred shall have a case of champagne and five pounds of chocolates,” observed the lady’s husband. “And if she were here this minute she should have something which she would prize much more than those gifts. No, don’t you stir until I have enumerated your faults and my grievances.
“Item: I can see the lower curves of two white and very tempting girlish buttocks emerging from the tense silk of that suit as you lie that way. No-don’t you dare move until I am through I swear to God!
“Item: breasts that would make even an anchorite mad with desire, almost worse than naked under my eyes. They seem so hard and firm that not even the straining blue silk can flatten them. And it fails utterly, when you lie thus, to do more than film over the whiteness of the lovely heaps and the roses of the little nipples.”
“I-oh-I had no idea I was so very nearly bare!” Marion managed to gasp. “Please let me move, Stanley-let me get at that beach robe-!” “Lie quite still,” he directed sternly. “Item: I can see the very snow of your belly rising and falling with your breathing. I can even see the tiny pit at the center and I can see that I was not mistaken when I spoke of concealed dimples.”
“I-oh, heavens-I’ll never wear this suit or one like it again!” half-wailed the appalled girl. “I didn’t realize-yet all the girls seem to wear such bathing apparel here. I’ve seen them from a distance. And I got into this position without knowing how it displayed me. I simply won’t lie here any longer like this. Take your great hands off my shoulders… and knees…!”
“You’re in no state to argue with a shocked and offended man,” he assured her. “A man intent on reformation, a man who knows how easy it would be for him to turn you over and pull that silk completely off from a dimpled bottom which is already half-bare, a man who would have no compunctions in turning that white backside rosy. Just the least move and I swear you shall catch it, Maro, my dear-!”
“Item: although I’ve seen fair ladies and maidens of our summer colony in contraptions like this-and not without concern on my part-I’ve never before seen one of them in this very suggestive position while thus scantily clad. It’s a position, my dear little sister-in-law, commonly reserved for the nuptial chamber and the nuptial couch. Ah, you would, would you!”
In a frenzy of shame as she caught the purport of his words, poor Marion had suddenly writhed from his detaining hands and was trying to scramble to her feet. With a stretch of his powerful and sinewy frame, her bother-in-law caught her by an ankle. She tumbled upon the soft sand, unharmed but squealing.
Not even the determined smile of the man-beneath which smoldered something alien to mirth-could reassure the struggling Marion in the least as she was drawn across his bare and extended legs, face downward.
“Don’t you dare!” she panted as she felt his fingers thrust the thinly veiled silk upwards and completely off from one hemisphere of her rear mounds. “I-oh, heavens, Stanley, are you mad? I’ll tell Mildred-I’ll tell everybody!”
“After dinner at the cafe would be a good time,” he murmured shakily. Shakily, because the snowy satin of that perfect buttock beneath his eyes and his fingers was moving him mightily. “Must I spank, Maro, dear? Or will you get back as you were until I’ve finished lecturing you?”
Already his fingers were busy with the task of laying the other promontory naked.
“Yes, yes, yes-yes, I will!” wailed the shame-ridden maiden. “Oh, I would never have supposed you such a perfect monster!”
And the position-flat on her back, knees raised and well parted-which she had so innocently and unthinkingly assumed earlier, became, by his hands guiding her to resume it and by her present realization of what it had suggested to him, a posture which shook her with vast embarrassment.
“Now, then. Item: a very, very, suggestive prominence in a very delicate region,” he said brazenly. “If you close your legs again, Maro, over you go on your soft stomach. Wider, wider yet-that’s it. Now let me tell you that, although I’ve seen attractive little bulges at the crotch of many a bathing suit on this beach, I’ve never seen such a plump, pudgy, cute, hair-shrouded hill obtrude its presence on my entranced but reproving eyes here or anywhere. Baby girl, sweet sister, I can almost see the exact hue of the little grove against the whiteness of the skin. Whiteness, did I say? Yet it seems to me that there is something dimly visible which is not altogether white, a something so delicate, so altogether enticing and maddening that-!”
But not even the fear of his fraternal violence upon her still unclad rear cushions could hold the frantic and shamed Marion any longer in that obvious position.
He allowed her to scramble to her feet. Trembling, she turned her back upon him that he might not see her suffused and lovely features, forgetting entirely the nudity of the hillocks which he had bared.
Suddenly a soft kiss, perhaps apologetic in part, since the distress of the girl was so evident and so burning, was laid upon the back of her neck. Unrebuked fingers performed the Samaritan task of drawing the blue silk downward over the twin mounds below.
“Oh-d-don’t-don’t k-kiss me!” he heard in a tremulous voice. “How incredibly horrible you have been to me, Stanley Cochrane!”
“Horrible!” he cried, in a tone suggesting gentle reproach and righteous indignation. “Horrible for kissing affectionately the mere back of your neck-and for taking pains to cover chastely that beautiful bottom which you had carelessly allowed to become stark naked? I think such a frame of mind as yours requires heroic treatment!”
And Marion-who had added to his regret over the concealment of the snowy behind by nervously pulling the silk farther downward yet-emitted squeals of genuine dismay as she felt herself caught to the stalwart and light-clad figure of her audacious brother-in-law.
She was pressed in his left arm, face to face with him, their bodies in conjunction. Already his right hand was busy in raising the pliant, thin silk once more over the smooth skin of a hillock, which he was delighted beyond words to touch thus in its nudity.
Holding her tightly against him, he managed to glance down for another look at the swelling cushion.
“I think just a bit of paddling may be necessary, after all,” he said thickly. “When a child, still a mere college girl, so far forgets the respect due to five long years of seniority over her-to an elder brother-as to use such language towards him!”
“I didn’t use such language,” protested Marion shakily but vehemently. “I said you had been horrible to me, and you’re being even more horrible now. Stanley, let me go, take your hand away from from me! This is awful-you know it is! I can’t get used to the kind of jokes you people play. I can’t and I won’t! I demand respect-even from my brother-in-law. I won’t have this! I’m positively crushed against you and you’re brutal, brutal, taking advantage of your strength and our isolation!”
He whistled long and loud, and Marion clapped a trembling little hand to his lips. “They’ll all hear-and come-and see-and think terrible things!” she whispered, alarmed.
“I thought you were complaining of isolation,” he said with a smile. “I was going to provide you with a tribunal of fair judges who would decide your case strictly on its merits and determine how many smacks your pretty bottom deserves.
“You should be ashamed to expose me that way!” cried the girl, struggling vainly in his enwrapping arms. “Let my arms loose and let me cover myself. Stanley Cochrane, if you keep on patting me down there, I shall scream! You know this is well past a joke, no matter what all these frivolous creatures think permissible. Listen, Stanley, have some regard for my standards, of what I think right and wrong!”
The touch of pathos in her tone, in the flushed and lovely little face and the gray eyes raised in pleading to him moved the excited man. “Silly dear. Oh, silly, silly little dear!” he said softly. “There’d be much more fun in your life if only you wouldn’t adhere so obstinately to outworn standards that make intimate bits of frivolity something formidable and disgraceful. I think it’s my duty to try to convert you to a modern view. Perhaps I’ll spare you the whacking you deserve on this one naked buttock. But you shall pay a little forfeit, young lady.”
He clasped her more closely, body to body. Her firm and exquisite young breasts were ground against his chest. Their thinly veiled abdomens were glued together. He heard the maiden gasp and saw her shiver and endeavor vainly to withdraw as she sensed against her person the effect of this “play” upon him.
“A-a forfeit-?” she murmured quaveringly. He saw her lovely gray eyes swimming now, lifted momentarily to his. And all her unconscious and shamed admission of her knowledge of the alteration in his person agitated him the more.
“First,” he said, “first you shall strip your other buttock completely with your own hands. I shall look down and see that you do it. And then you shall put your lovely arms about my neck and give me a nice, affectionate and sisterly kiss. Then you shall turn about and give me one good view-better than I’ve had yet-of your white rump.”
“You are a perfectly nasty wretch!” wailed Marion. “I looked forward to being an affectionate sister to you. But you have to bring shameful and terrible things into our relationship. I shall never, never come bathing with you again!”
“In which case,” he observed mildly, “off comes this wisp of a bathing suit entirely. And I shall see whether sister is like unto sister when unclad. And I shall see whether I have been reliably informed by one Mrs. Mildred Cochrane regarding the interesting point that her younger sister is perfect in all physical ways when naked-and that three wee brown moles dwell on her person in enviable retreats.”
“You-oh, you incredible monster” gasped Marion. “Once more she struggled in his grasp but since the sole outcome of this writhing was to imbed in the soft flesh of her belly a turbulent and swollen rigidity whose very heat and throbbing she could feel, she ceased her grinding movements with a choking, shamed exclamation. Her face was scarlet now, her eyes dimmed and her long-lashed fluttering visible.
“Monster? Monster-! Do I hear aright?” he cried. “Oh, what an insolent and irreverent generation is this which is growing up about us!”
The nervous fingers on his right hand ceased to pat gently the one nude buttock of the girl. They sank in wallowing delight into the soft flesh here and there. And then he raised his hand ominously above the maiden’s rear.
“Don’t-don’t you dare!” almost whispered Marion. “I could never endure that! Listen, Stanley, I’ll forgive everything and kiss you just as sweetly as I know how. But don’t make me do the other thing as you said!”
His hand swished downward. With a little cry she twisted her supple body to make the none-too-violent slap a mere glancing one to the side of her nude buttock and she reached her hands swiftly behind her to comply with his instructions.
Gloatingly, he looked downward as the white fingers drew the tenuous silk upward from the still-covered mound. Merely a little rope of twisted blue silk penetrating the vale between the hillocks remained as concealment.
“They’re simply lovely, Marion,” he whispered. “And now for the rest of your penance, my dear.”
On tiptoe she stood to surround his brawny neck with her naked, shapely, round arms. Half-blindly she proffered her rosy lips.
As his mouth took hers, both his broad palms came to rest upon the silken nudity of her bottom. He hugged her, fondly at first, and then, as carnality grew almost to madness in his frame, his fingers curled convulsively into their tender beds.
Bewildered and affrighted at the receptiveness of her own senses, Marion strove to withdraw her lips from a kiss which had ceased to have fraternal elements. Wholly inexperienced in amorous things, the maiden whispered dismayed and husky protests.
“Don’t Stanley. D-don’t handle m-me like that!” she pleaded. “Be the nice b-brother I’ve wanted!”
For his fingers were warm and pliant and more and more indiscreet upon the warmth and velvet of her nude behind. They slipped downward. They weighed the round mounds. They were penetrating, inquisitive, their tips vastly confusing in explorations which made Marion gasp and shudder and grind her thighs together to form a wholly futile barrier to one long and particularly adventurous middle finger.
Marion felt weakened by inexpressible agitation and with wrestling futile, gasped remonstrances which she could not even put in words. As she felt that masculine fingertip on the gauzily veiled sanctum of her sex, Marion could only shudder and lie against the bulwark of this physical strength which was being so boldly used for her discomfiture and agitation.
She raised dazed, gray eyes piteously to his in a mute plea for forbearance. But instantly his ardent lips were upon hers once more. She tried not to respond, and to wrest her mouth away.
Then she heard him whisper: “Darling, ah, but you’re so incredibly lovely, oh sister of mine! Let us see whether a lover is some day going to find passion as well as beauty in you.”
“Don’t-oh, d-don’t!” she sighed.
Convulsively her naked thighs clutched the finger which dwelt and moved between them. The finger bore upward. It was imperiously upon the thin strand which protected the wee split so inadequately that it could feel in clear outline the tender groove.
Panting breath issued from four lips, which were almost in contact. With arms still about his neck, Marion dropped the white lids over her eyes, which could not endure the glow of ardor in his face. Suddenly she trembled and swayed like a plant smitten with a breeze as she felt upon her parted lips the soft touches of a libidinous tongue.
With her ten fingers clasped upon the nape of his brawny neck for support, she withdrew the indelicately caressed mouth somewhat. But it was pursued. Gently and dismayingly the tongue of the man played upon the still-parted lips of the quivering girl.
Marion shuddered. She revealed glazed eyes for an instant and then the long golden lashes fell over the orbs once more. Her pinks lips closed upon the slippery intruder which played between them and then they opened again for a dismayed exclamation.
“Oh, how can you lick my mouth like that!” she quavered. “It’s shameful-like an animal. And please, please, take that hand away!”
“Instantly, almost instantly, precious,” he promised. “I just wanted to see whether the sister of the Cochranes’ is really as chilly as her sister and her friends have said. Open the luscious little mouth and see what Brother has for you and then the unwelcome finger will be withdrawn.”
Slowly the panting girl spread the portals of her lips. Anything was better and more endurable, she felt, than that his finger should continue to drive her almost to distraction.
Stanley relieved her of the agitating finger. But he caught her to him even more ardently. And his tongue swiftly invaded the pink, warm cavern of her mouth, where a coiled and apprehensive little tongue awaited it.
Marion swayed feebly in his embrace as she felt not only her mouth but her tongue gently licked. Emotions that bewildered her-since how could any pleasant sensations be expected from so disgraceful a contact-shot through her nerves.
Suddenly he heard her moan softly. She was trembling. And the moist warmth of her own tongue was in motion against his.
He thrilled to this activity, to this confession of reciprocal pleasure on her part in a caress of which she had never even heard. He strove to make his own caresses gentle, not too dismaying for this awakened virginal ardor.
He licked the warm little tongue, felt it respond with a timid sensuality. He withdrew his tongue to the portals of her lips and felt the other tongue advance almost eagerly, as if reluctant to say farewell to its guest.
He licked the delicate lips, the tip of her small tongue, and then suddenly his whole tongue writhed in the effort to surround the girl’s tender, moist organ of speech. Blindly, she gave him fullest access for this insidious caress, which had at first impressed her as so odious.
Soft, moaning sighs, catches of panting breath, revealed more clearly the tremendous effect upon Marion’s senses, even more so than the quivering of her lithe, young body.
She was hugging him passionately by this time. And when he slowly withdrew his tongue entirely, she opened languorous, suffused eyes as if regretfully.
He pointed his tongue temptingly, and slowly the rosy tongue of his sister-in-law emerged to touch and caress it as her own had been caressed.
From the man’s opened mouth her tongue retreated but its fiery, wet companion accompanied it eagerly now.
He took her by the oval cheeks with his palms. Like a lamb, Marion submitted now to his whims. He kissed softly and then licked gently her closed eyes, her cheeks and temples, the lovely dimples of her mouth’s extremities, the slightly tip-tilted, piquant little nose, the round, small chin.
“Just samples of my own private beauty treatment for a bewitching sister who has no possible need of it,” he whispered. “Maro, I wish I had a mirror to hold up for you now. You’re a dream of loveliness with your face flushed and your eyes dreamy but glowing. Maro, darling, I positively think that I shall perish unless I take off that fragile suit and see you as you really are, in all your beauty!”
“Oh-oh, God, Stanley, don’t. Don’t spoil it all!” she gasped, shrinking away from him.
“Spoil it all?” he murmured.
“Yes. We’ve been kissing in that funny, terribly exciting way but Mildred doesn’t mind our kissing. She encourages it. You know how she laughed at me and even scolded me for being bashful about kissing you night and morning. I-I suppose that was kissing-what we’ve just been doing, wasn’t it?”
“You can be certain of that,” he replied, amused and admiring. “Just a tender, affectionate species of emphatic kiss.”
“Well, I can excuse myself, then, for indulging in it-and liking it,” she whispered. “For it was terribly sweet-it went all through me. But we mustn’t do it often, I think,” she added with clouding eyes. “For it makes me feel as-as a girl shouldn’t-so funny and trembly. And it leaves me so very weak and shaky. But now that we are calmer, I must tell you something, Stanley. If we are to be dear friends-brother and sister-you must never, never treat me again as if I weren’t your sister by marriage. You know what I mean. You know the indecent treatment to which you have subjected me. I think it makes it all the worse that Mildred is my dear sister for there’s a kind of disloyalty to her in it. Oh, I know you didn’t mean that, any more than I did. But you must be able to see that I don’t dare risk being alone with you again if you are to play indecent pranks with me, even if the other folks think they are just fun.”
“I merely looked you over in that becoming bathing suit,” he smiled. “I know the suit is far from decent,” she said “You’re not entirely to blame perhaps. But you know you’ve done some unforgivable things, Stanley, which I’m forgiving nevertheless. We’ll forget them. But I’ll bathe with you in a dress like this in future only on condition that you promise not to manhandle me as you have done today.”
“But the kisses are not forbidden?” he inquired with a casualness which would have made a girl of more experience suspicious of what was in his mind.
“No, we may kiss since Mildred actually wishes it and since kisses appear to be regarded as quite unimportant among these young couples and girls and boys,” she conceded, almost eagerly.
And then she added slowly:
“I’ve learned from you something surprising, Stanley. That there are more kinds of kisses than one. I don’t know-I’m not certain-that we should do that again-what we just did. For it did such funny things to me!”
“Oh, it’s just a kiss after all,” he said stoutly. “And you have just conceded that we may kiss. You will not refuse me such kisses as I wish to give you-or to receive-Maro, dear?”
Deliberating, she nodded her head of dark gold.
“No,” she said. “I promise. But-and I know you will think me silly, but remember I’ve lived almost a convent life-are there still other kinds, besides the one I knew and the one you taught me today?”
“Quite possibly. I might dig out one or two other varieties,” he observed placidly. Inwardly, he was both amused and touched by the innocence of this girl of some twenty years.
He knew this innocence genuine for he knew from his wife and from Marion herself the cloistered upbringing which she had had under the Puritan care of a wealthy androphobe of a grandmother. She was some months past twenty, to be sure, but hardly entering adolescence in respect to knowledge of the emotions which sway mankind. From private and expert-but always carefully supervised-tutelage in the privacy of her California home, she had recently passed into the junior years of a girls’ college on the coast. And she was now passing a summer vacation with the recently wedded elder sister, whom she had but rarely seen in a decade or so.
They had been standing face to face. Marion was so absorbed in their conversation and so gratified that her fine-looking brother-in-law should agree to accept “mere” kisses and pledge himself to spare her the more flagrant transgressions which so dismayed her that she had entirely forgotten the continued nakedness of her round and lovely bottom.
She swung about just then, her attention summoned by the call of a bird. When her right hand chanced to drop to her side and slightly rearward, she gave a cry of shame as she touched the bare half-globe.
“You see?” she murmured, tugging at the silk, which had been shoved above the snowy heaps. “You see? It’s things like this which I meant. The idea of uncovering me-in such a place! But now that you’ve promised to be good-“
“In all respects save kisses” he reminded her, with a smile.
“Well, kisses aren’t fundamentally wicked, or even naughty or compromising, are they? I shouldn’t, of course, consent to our pact unless I were sincerely assured they were all right.”
“You’ve had some opportunity even in these three days of your stay to see how lightly such caresses are regarded by quite the best of the younger set in Chicago here on holiday,” he said. “Wedded or unwedded, they kiss as freely as affectionate children on meeting and on parting and between times. Of course, you understand that kisses lead to things-things not quite so simple and innocent-and such occurrences are far from rare in our pleasant little colony. But, in general, touches of the lips and a bit of warm spooning are very pleasant. They bespeak the absence, too, of foolish and harassing jealousies when exchanged among married groups, as you’ve already see done rather freely. Our young friends are a very splendid crew, don’t you find them so?”
“Oh, very likable!” she cried earnestly. “Of course they confuse me at times. I know only a few of them as yet. But, now that you speak of it, they don’t kiss in the way that you just showed me, do they?”
“Not so commonly,” he hastened to admit. “But they, well, that peculiarly delicious caress is more or less reserved for privacy, as in our case just now, Maro. It’s a kind of sweet intimacy that would rather-er-lose its zest if employed in a crowd, don’t you think? Not that any of these pink tongues around us are ignorant of the delicately exciting mingling.”
“Well,” she pondered, “I don’t see that it makes it any worse to kiss in isolated parts as we’ve just done, Stanley.”
“Not in the least,” he agreed heartily. “And some of the other kisses which I mean to show you, dear girl, are not really designed for any publicity.”
“Other kisses?” she murmured. “I forget. You did say there were other kinds, didn’t you? But none of them could possibly make creepy sensations run on one’s spine and all one’s nerves sort of tingle as it did when we did that to each other?”
“No,” he whispered.
“I’m certain of it,” she assured him, but was stirred to a sort of panic by something in the brown eyes over which hung dark-brown and curly hair.
“Well, we’ll see,” he said vaguely.
With both hands behind her, Marion was striving to coax the thin fabric downwards over an abundantly fleshed buttock, which seemed to resist renewed confinement so determinedly as to endanger the solidity of the dark-blue silk upon which she was tugging while she held this odd, absorbing conversation with her young brother-in-law.
“Want help, Maro?” he smiled.
She ignored the proffer.
“How in the world did you ever got this thing up in the first place!” she said. “I think I’m going to tear it, it seems so very frail. No, don’t you dare, Stanley Cochrane! You have already seen me most disgracefully and you’ve promised, you know, to commit no more indecencies!”
“Indecencies?” he queried in an injured tone. “I only want to help, Maro, since you obviously cannot manage that fabric yourself while you’re inside it.”
“Well, if you’re certain you can be very good,” consented the girl confidingly. “For I find I can’t do it alone without tugging in a way dangerous for the suit. But please-oh, please hurry-for it’s so shameful to have you see me like this!”
He was behind her in a flash. Adeptly he thrust fingers of both hands beneath the clinging silk and swiftly he drew it downward over one lovely mound.
But the touch of the backs of his fingers upon the nudity of this exuberant flesh moved each of them now to a degree out of proportion to the intimacy of the contact, extreme though that was. Marion sighed and cringed a trifle.
Stanley repeated the process with the other buttock. Then, overcome by his agitation over this glorious and intimate young flesh, he dropped quickly to a knee and laid warm lips in the horizontal crease just beneath the mound.
Marion shivered. She stood for an instant as if transfixed. And then, as the ardent lips took possession of the same spot at the base of the other buttock and she felt the heat of his almost flaming breath and the clinging of his lips, she dropped to the sand with a dry and convulsive sob.
“You-you broke your promise!” she quavered dismally. “And now I shan’t ever dare-“
“I broke no promise,” he protested. “What did I do?”
“You kissed me,” she accused, “where people aren’t ever kissed! It was a fearful grossness, taking advantage of me!”
“I kissed you twice, granted,” he murmured. “And found it delicious! But-my dearest sister, kisses were distinctly permitted to me by the terms of our agreement.”
“But, heavens!” wailed the girl. “To kiss a person in such a spot!”
“A wholly lovely and adorable spot,” he assured her. “If you could only see the cute little cross between a wee valley and a large wrinkle that your flesh forms there, Maro, you would have to agree that it’s nothing short of delectable! And there are dimples here too!”
She bit her red lower lip, declining to look into his face. She debated inwardly.
“Why, I suppose I did say you could kiss me,” she said faintly at last. “Maybe you were keeping the letter of our agreement. But still-what a place to put kisses! It absolutely jarred me, Stanley! I’m still all quivery. I had no idea you meant ever to kiss me elsewhere than on my face, and I’m sure you never will again, now that you have seen how it affects me.”
“Just how did it affect you?” he queried.
“Why, what a thing to ask!” she murmured in plaintive agitation. “It-your mouth-seemed almost to burn my flesh. I can still feel it. It made me-well-sort of throb and feel-so funny!”
“I’m entitled to kisses,” he remarked with a soft and joyous exultation. “Our promises hold, don’t they, Maro?”
“I-I couldn’t go back on a promise,” she conceded at last. “But if I’d had the least notion that my pledge could be taken to permit anything like that-we’d never have reached that agreement. Fortunately, you’ll never have another such chance to drive me to distraction. And I still can’t understand in the least how you should have felt inspired to wish to kiss me there.”
“A very dainty and wholly delightful region,” he observed. “All the environs are maddeningly beautiful, as this tiny suit gives me the pleasure of noticing.”
Flushing yet more deeply, Marion contrived to crouch in a less revealing posture.
“Yet, can a thing which makes a girl absolutely shiver and tremble be called a kiss really?” she questioned, seemingly intent on extricating herself gracefully from the dilemma into which her pledge appeared to have immersed her.
“If you don’t think those were kisses, just let me try again,” he suggested.
She quivered and crouched yet lower.
“And since they gave you, as you’ve admitted, new sensations they are merely new kisses to you, which were distinctly within what we agreed upon,” he added.
They had their plunge in the waters of the lake and it was a cooling experience of which both the girl and the man stood in need. But Marion, fond though she already was of her big brother-in-law with the coiling, dark-brown mop of heavy hair and the frank, attractive countenance and body of a young Hercules, was silent and introspective during their swim, as well as on the homeward walk to the pleasant bungalow whither they made their way as the dinner hour drew near.
For a wonder, there was no social affair to draw them from the house that evening, nor did any of the group of some hundred or more of Chicago’s youthful elite chance to invade the summer home of the Cochranes. Hence Marion Stone had the opportunity-of which she took advantage-to go early to her chamber and to bed.
She felt the need of utter solitude, even though not particularly weary. For tremendous things had happened to this lovely and inexperienced girl of twenty. To her they seemed world-shattering and it was necessary for her to ponder alone every episode of that hour with her sister’s husband in the little sand vale on the dunes of the lake shore.
In her bed and in the darkness, she flushed and vibrated as she recalled each crucial point. The intense admiration of Stanley for her bare legs had, she thought, started it all. And, beneath the cover, she ventured to hitch up the nighty she wore and to run her soft, shamed fingers delicately over each naked thigh as if to fathom by sense of touch just why they seemed to him so admirable.
She took anew the immodest posture into which she had fallen so innocently on the sand-knees raised and parted-trying to picture herself as he had seen her in that scant bathing suit, wondering whether it had indeed been as thin and revealing there in the sunlight as he had said, or whether he was just plaguing her. She touched the lower parts of her smooth behind, the curves which, she realized, had indeed protruded shamefully. But Mildred had told her not to be silly about “a little thing like that, which nobody pays attention to.”
How horrid that her chance posture should have suggested to Stanley such a lascivious intimacy as that of which he had spoken! Why, then, from what he had said she supposed that this was indeed the position which a young wife had to assume when in bed with her husband.
Those same exquisite naked legs which had so rejoiced the eyes of Stanley Cochrane clapped together now upon a slender wrist as, with sudden increased agitation, Marion recalled the entire denuding of her rear mounds by her brother-in-law under the jesting pretense of castigating them. Quickly the thighs parted again, however, and the girl sighed, ashamed. For, as she touched the lower rims of her bottom with investigating fingers, trying to make more vivid the recollection of what Stanley had done and said, that slim wrist was so located as to be caught directly in her warm crotch.
The consequent sensation, coupled with the embarrassed memory of what had pressed her nearly naked stomach as she writhed in the man’s arms while learning those new kisses from him, made the maiden more distracted than ever. She once more clapped her legs together. She rolled them upon her wrist. Her face waxed scarlet in the gloom of the chamber. And then, bitterly ashamed of thus having yielded for the moment to the sensations that thrilled her, she determinedly parted her thighs once more.
Her breathing was agitated. She gathered her memories of that scene upon the dunes with an attempt at chronological exactness. Then-ah, yes-then he had bared her bottom, already so imperfectly and gauzily shrouded. His fingers upon it in the process had so terribly shamed and-yes-excited her. And she had seen how the tan of his face had shown a dull red and how his eyes seemed to gleam. He had been actually rough with his strong fingers but she had not minded that somehow.
Then they had kissed with those kisses which Mildred called her a ninny for hesitating to accord her new brother. But, heavens, they had kissed while he had both hands upon her naked bottom! And then his amazing, entrancing, agitating use of his tongue! No wonder she had almost forgotten for the time how he was handling her flesh.
But she recalled it all clearly now. Yes, he had sunk his fingers in the yielding flesh of her buttocks while their mouths were yoked, while, with her nerves in flames, she had begun to respond timidly with her own tongue.
But what had led her to become so bold, so brazen, so unmaidenly? It had been his great finger projected with the grossest indecency between her legs from the rear! That finger had nearly crazed her with shame. And the only way she could get it withdrawn had been to humor him, by letting her tongue play with his.
But almost immediately she had found her head swimming, her nerves singing. She had lost herself in the deep delight of that strange and prolonged kiss. It was a “kiss” undoubtedly. He had said so-and, of course, since it was delivered with the mouth, it must be a kiss and hence permissible, according to the code of Mildred and of all these jolly, forward, indecorous young lights of the best circles of Chicago. But what a kiss! And Stanley had vowed to teach her other kisses.
Which reflection brought her to that amazing pair of kisses in the grooves of bare flesh just beneath her buttocks and her own intense and intimate reaction to those shameful caresses. It seemed to her that she could still feel his warm mouth, his ardent breath, upon her skin.
With raised knees and elevated loins, she slipped her fingers from either side to touch the very spots where he had laid his lips. She knew exactly where she had felt his mouth-in either channel. Heavens! Not three inches from the groove of her sexuality! No wonder she had felt the reaction so intimately.
But that had been, perhaps, because his unspeakably impertinent finger had been just recently withdrawn from the spot where her thighs had clutched it in consternation and shame. Thank fortune there had been at least that thin silk protecting the nook! How had he acted! Like this?
And, from behind, turning slightly upon one side, Marion managed to intrude her own middle finger directly between her nude thighs. She resisted the shaming thought that she was seeking a revival of the sensations caused by her new brother’s finger. No, it was simply curiosity, she insisted, that was causing her to touch herself as never before.
Too timid to move the buried finger as Stanley had so perturbingly done with his great digit, the girl stirred restlessly, merely squeezing her thighs upon the slender and ineffectual finger, so much tinier than his, vaguely disappointed in not finding again the thrills and the shamed excitement which Stanley had caused her.
She abandoned the futile maneuver and sank slowly into drowsiness. But, as a last thought before sleep, she had pledged herself, in order to exact his promise to regard her finer feelings and spare her the animal handlings he had attempted, to accord him unlimited kisses.
Yes, he would be her guide in striving to find a certain aplomb with all these young people to whose set she belonged of right, yet with whom she felt herself constrained and bashful. She could trust him since he had promised. How splendid a creature he really was and how fine he had looked-more nearly nude than even she had been-with his rippling muscles distending the excuses for garments which he wore! Consciousness failed her upon this reflection.
Stanley Cochrane, it happens, had a certain authority in back of him when he distressed the maiden by assuming a familiarity with her unclad figure and her snowy flesh. For an elated and excited loving wife, much impressed by what she had seen upon catching her embarrassed younger sister still dripping from her bath, had hastened to assure her beloved young spouse that “Marion has developed into a blessed, shy, young Venus if ever there was one, my baby boy!”
Thus had the blond Mildred addressed the former left guard of the Badger eleven, with his six feet, one inch of stature and his corresponding dimensions and his immense strength in every physical field. “Yes, precious, Mother’s tiny pet!” she went on, rather shakily now, for she was rubbing her delicate and lovely breasts, extracted from their nook in her night garment by his fingers, upon the thicket of dark hair upon his chest.
“Yes, baby dear, so,” she soothed her husband as he manifested silently a wish. “Was ums hungry and didums want to suck mother’s little titties? Well, baby has to see if he can catch one of them when it comes around.”
And the colorful and pretty little blonde lady, her silken, flowing hair shades lighter than the dark gold of Marion’s long tresses, but her eyes the same charming gray, circled a rosy and very tempting nipple, a turgid drop of ruddy dew, upon his cheek, his forehead, his nose and chin.
“Take off this infernal nightdress, Mildred darling,” urged the brazen “baby.”
“Ah, naughty baby, and didums wants its little mother all bare and won’t it take its dinner unless she strips all naked and indecent? Well, she will ‘then, but it isn’t very nice, for Mother’s baby is getting-oh-getting very-oh, Stanley-g-getting very-b-big-! Stanley, you great wretch, here it is hammering at my bare legs and I wanted to play baby with you for a while and give you the breast. I want to wrap you up in a corner of the sheet like a diaper and then feel it swell beneath my fingers while I pin the diaper on. But don’t know whether I can wait to play like that now! What horrid things men are, getting so excited right away that a poor girl can’t play an innocent little game because she gets so very passionate, with an immense thing pushing against her! I do think, dearest, you might manage to control yourself for just the least little while! You know you fairly loved it every time I’ve played you were my little child and handled you in the cutest ways and made you take the breast, then felt your great thing swell up gradually in my fingers or in a fold of my nighty. To be sure, you had always taken me just before so that made it easier for you to be placid for a while.”
“Yes, darling, but now I can’t wait to have you, so over you go!”
“Oh, wait just a bit! I do so love to lie here and pretend I’m asleep and just rub your prick quite gently and dream about it beforehand!”
As fond as she was of the unchaste caresses with which her warm hands deluged his muscular, white body whenever the circumstances permitted, Stanley lay beside her, vibrating to the delicate fingerings and fondlings and to the impassioned kisses upon his torso and belly.
Suddenly he chuckled, his thoughts wandering even in the midst of his present delights.
“That was a hot one you pulled this afternoon over at Suzanne Barlow’s,” he said. “You may flatter yourself upon the managing to startle for a moment even that crew of wild boys and girls.”
Mildred giggled but did not relax for a second her libidinous play with his body.
“Well, you happened to say you were hungry and we’d better go,” she murmured, “and it came over me that here was my chance to shock everybody. But I’ll tell you confidentially, Stanley, darling, I really only meant to just bare one nipple and put it to your lips. But when they all stared and then laughed I got a little excited and bolder, you know how it is. So I stripped everything off my breasts. But it was sweet of you not to leave me in the lurch, for if you had refused to play, if you had looked shocked or refused to take my nipples in your lips then it would have spoiled everything.”
“Sweet girl,” he whispered, with a hand searching and finding a curling patch of soft hair under the cover, “you created the sensation you were after all, all right! It was the first time any of those fellows had ever seen your lovely breasts absolutely bare. And did they go nuts over them! Old Norm Hamilton got so excited that his fingers ground into my arm while I was sucking your titties. And people tried to bat my head away so that they could see better. And damned if Carley Barlow wasn’t trying to get his head down to take the other nipple when his own wife supplanted him. It seemed funny to be sharing your breasts with a girl that way. How did it affect you? I could hear you sigh and feel you tremble a little, and you stopped laughing.”
“It made me as hot as the very devil, since you inquire so kindly, big boy!” cried his wife with an adorable little pout. “Oh-o-o-o-oh-Stanley!”
She gave the enormous head of his sceptre an exciting loving little squeeze.
“It’s just in the pink-in its prime-isn’t it, my beloved?” she whispered. “But, this afternoon, well, for two bits I would have taken out your thing-oh, yes, I caught sight of its condition-and I would have lain right back on that divan, that’s how agitated I was over what I had done and over the way they all took it! How they razz Suzanne Barlow for shoving her own husband to one side and taking my other breast herself! Do you know, Stanley, I believe she loved it! She sucked me so tenderly, so warmly that it doubled the thrills I was getting from you.”
“Don’t forget,” he commented, “that showing your breasts to all our friends that way had something to do with exciting you. That’s natural enough. As for Suzanne-that’s hardly abnormal either. Lots of girls love to kiss and suck and play with each other’s bosoms. Still, she was pretty ardent about it, wasn’t she? She wanted it to pass as just her contribution to a joke but she was red as a rose. But I heard some of the fellows agree that you had the loveliest breasts they had ever seen.”
“Wait until they see Marion’s-if they ever do!” said the gratified Mildred. “I know my bust is nice but hers is quite the most beautiful imaginable. Incidentally, I would never have dared act as I did if she had been there. It is rather fun to shock my young sister but that would have made her faint!”
“The little beauty is awfully touchy,” agreed her spouse. “But she’s as sweet as mignonette, a family characteristic. But it’s pleasant to keep on giving her greater and greater shocks. She’ll be a winner when she gets acclimated. Everyone adores her while they laugh at her, but she’s wretchedly sensitive.”
“She almost collapsed,” giggled Mildred,” when I first made her slip her arms about your neck in kissing you. Still, she wants to appear game, not to be so wholly different from her companions. And I think some breaches are beginning to appear in her armor of puritan girlhood!
“You can safely bet on that,” returned Stanley. “Why, she’d have choked and run the first day of her arrival to see you admit Gerry Candall to your boudoir when you were bare legged and being pedicured. And the kiss he gave your toes when he went away would have scandalized her into fainting!”
“That was pretty crude!” giggled Mildred. “I had noticed that ever since he had come in he had had to see whether he was right in suspecting that I hadn’t on a stitch except a little shirt under that kimono. He kept edging around and peering, trying to make casual conversation at the same time. But I could see what he was doing and I teased him by being very coy when he thought he was on the verge of seeing something.
“Of course I knew all the time that that Doc Dickey, the pedicurist, was getting an eyeful every now and then. Lots of the girls have noticed how nosy that black-moustached fellow gets when he’s playing with our toes. But he’s harmless after all. It doesn’t really matter if a person of his level catches rather intimate views of us.
“But old Gerard was something else again. I managed to keep fooling him just for fun. But he had the better of me, finally, at that. You must have noticed.”
“You mean when he surprised you by whisking your foot up and kissing your toes as ceremoniously as if they had been your fingers?” queried Stanley. “I wasn’t where I could see exactly what happened. But I knew something was up-he was pretty excited.”
“Well, I could have slapped him but I thought it best to appear not to realize what he had done exactly,” said his wife, “especially as that fellow was still working away on my other foot. But, Stanley, if he hadn’t lifted my foot so high and so far apart from the other he wouldn’t have had a clear view of my naked pussy. You must have seen how quickly he turned after kissing my foot. It was that quick jerk, you know-and I half went over backward-and I knew my crotch was naked and that he had seen it plenty! Doc Dickey got more than an eyeful from were he knelt. He may be rather blase by this time but not enough so that he didn’t give a little gasp. I thought surely you must have noticed that even if you hadn’t just seen what Gerry had the nerve to do.”
“Well, he’s got a healthy nerve!” said Stanley at last. “Looking at a young wife’s cunt in the very presence of her husband-and almost by violence at that! That is going fairly far, it seems to me, by God! I don’t mind all this fooling around we do in crowds, but-!”
“Don’t work up a lather, old sweetness,” observed his spouse with another silvery giggle. “Just put it down that another man has seen me pretty intimately and let it go at that. And don’t use coarse words in my presence, if you please! You know I hate them.”
“You don’t always hate them,” maintained the unembarrassed Stanley. “I’ve heard some pretty crude language bubble from those lips when you were playing up to me like a white rabbit.”
“Well-then,” conceded Mildred. “I don’t know just why it is, darling-but it seems to me that it adds to the bliss I am enduring-yes, enduring is the word. I feel like being vulgar and common in my words and in my actions too.”
“Don’t worry, dearest, I enjoy hearing you froth out strong words at such times,” interpolated Stanley.
“I could be-I feel that I am just your naked whore when this huge affair is buried in me and working in and out!” persisted Mildred excitedly as she tenderly squeezed the rod of which she spoke. “I could-oh, there’s nothing too vulgar for me to do or say at such time! I could fuck with you on the lawn where everybody could see and not mind them at all!”
“’Fuck,’ madame? Can I believe my polluted ears?” her husband smiled.
“Well, I didn’t really mean that-it sort of slipped out because I’m not exactly myself with this monster throbbing in my hand,” explained Mildred. “Oh, God, I am so very hot. Take me, Stanley take me!”
“Always ready to oblige a lady,” said the man. “And if you think it’s been easy to wait while you played with me! Here-let the bedclothes go to hell! God, what a bed of satin for my body, precious! And to think that this little rosy gash was inspected by Gerry Crandall almost under my very eyes!”
“Does that make it any less interesting to you, my love?” queried Mildred, already half-convulsed by the slow progress of his staff between the lips of her sensitive retreat.
“On the contrary, since we’re confessing, beloved,” whispered Stanley, pausing with the knob of his virility barely embedded. But the brazen crust of the man, and knowing that he has feasted his eyes on you fairly shakes me.”
“I think I know what you mean, Stanley,” murmured Mildred faintly. “It in some queer way adds to my excitement too. Oh, my own darling, now press in a little more. Make it last as long as possible, dearest!”
“Sure,” he said, pausing again after an interval given to sighs and kisses and further penetration of the exquisite body beneath him.
“Are you certain that the fact that one of our closest male friends saw my-my c-cunt-isn’t stewing in your mind unhappily?” asked Mildred after a while, watching his face as keenly as she could with gray eyes which were already glazed and languorous as his firm shaft completely buried itself in her throbbing body.
His reassurance was hearty and emphatic.
“Not in the least, sweetness,” he said. “I’ve already told you that it seems to add to my excitement.”
“Because if the knowledge haunts you,” she persisted quaveringly, “I shall certainly gain you your revenge by contriving to let you see his pretty wife just as naked as the day she was born. I can do it-I know I can. You shall see every bit of her, everything she’s got-her cunt, her nice titties, her bottom, her belly, her whiskers! Oh, fuck me, Stanley, fuck me-oh, God, I’m on fire!
“Oh, darling-y-yes-you shall see her quite naked, I pledge you my word! You shall-oh-o-o-o-h-f-fuck-cunt-prick-you shall screw her if you wish! That should avenge you, and I will hold her if I have to but I think no g-girl c-could r-resist the longing to fuck with you. You-y-you could have any woman in the world that you wanted-c-couldn’t you-b-b-beloved-!”
Wild in the ecstasy of their bout, Mildred could no longer formulate words for her torrent of perverse and fervid sensuality. She had enwrapped the loins of her aggressor with white legs almost as marvelous in contours as those of her lovely sister. Her arms clung about his neck.
Their faces were almost as closely pressed as their bodies now. Stanley ploughed the palpitating, clinging furrow in which his virility was plunged, moving in slow, voluptuous rhythm. Mildred licked his lips and nibbled them, revealing that she was not entirely a stranger to such kisses as were to startle and entrance her young sister from those same male lips not so many hours later.
From the almost inexhaustible resource of her sensual being, the bride-they had been married only a few months-deluged the engine working with her at least three times before, with the fourth draft upon her reservoirs, she felt the jets of his semen shooting within her body. Together they lay panting and quivering.
“You little fire dragon!” remarked the smiling Stanley some minutes later as he held out his arms to a still-flushed, shivering, naked damsel, who had just returned to the broad bed after a necessary operation in the bathroom.
“But you like me that way don’t you, dearest?” she whispered, as she cast herself upon the disordered bed and into his embrace.
“I wouldn’t for millions have you lose the least bit of your glorious passions,” he said. “You’re my perfect little mate in all ways-and that’s the best of the ways.”
“It’s, well, perhaps a family characteristic to be passionate,” Mildred observed. “I have reason to think, from some things that Uncle Frank and Aunt Josephine hinted at, that Father and Mother were both pretty fiery. Of course, regarding my dear Marion”
“Well, what about her?” he queried, somewhat startled by the interjection of his beautiful sister-in-law-a chaste maiden if ever there was one-into the conversation. “It’s a cinch that Marion has but the dimmest of notions about sex at all. And, as for her having inherited any such passions as yours, I think it highly improbable. For how could we mistake the symptoms? She does nothing but blush and shrink at the least ribald remark or even at any physical familiarity that falls under her eyes.”
“Don’t be an old silly!” his wife enjoined. “She can’t even take and return your morning and evening kiss without showing an unconscious stirring deep inside her. And when I insisted on your really hugging each other this morning, well, she was a silent wreck all during breakfast. I was sure that you had noticed it. But the funniest thing is that she has no more idea than a baby that she has a very torrid nature. She sets her quivery state in your arms down to modest dismay at affectionate familiarities with a man-even with the brother-in-law of whom she very thoroughly and even tenderly approves, without realizing it.”
“I have an idea you’re wrong,” remarked her spouse, “even though it’s always perilous for a mere man to contradict a lady on estimates of one of her own sex. I don’t believe that Marion even knows what a sensual thrill is.”
“Maybe not. She’s indeed an innocent old sweet, I’ll grant you. And regrettably so, for it lays her open to jests at her expense which she doesn’t understand, or makes her feel so embarrassed and out of place when she does understand. But she’s had many a thrill of the kind you speak, even without recognizing it. She feels a chill every time you touch her lips with yours.”
“Baby, her timid little kisses carry a kick with them at that!” he said with relish. “Already she’s second only to you in my affections, I think, and a little beauty she is, too!”
“Listen, old darling, don’t overestimate me. And don’t underestimate me,” said Mildred tranquilly. “I know you’ve got a pretty wife who thinks you’re the only person on earth. But when it comes to comparing me with Marion physically-baby boy, that’s outrageous flattery! I saw her this morning dripping from her bath and my eyes stuck out! Lovely-I tell you she’s perfect, Stanley! I had that sudden impulse that always hits me when I’m having a delight unshared with you, the impulse to call you right away. I wanted you to see that marvelous body of hers. And I would have done it if I hadn’t been certain the poor child would have collapsed and maybe fallen ill from shock. She was badly enough dismayed at having even me see her-clutched a towel and all that.”
“I know she must be a dream. Coax her into some kind of a bathing suit that will show her off better than that infernal contraption she had on yesterday, Mildred, will you? She’s open to reason-we’ve discovered that-and she’s distressed at being thought so very different from the flighty crew in this place. I believe she is afraid of appearing to pose and to reproach us all for being so easy going in our ways. And she’s learned that she’s behind the times.”
“Listen, Stan,” urged Mildred, eager with a new and sudden notion and laying her round and beautiful arms coaxingly about his neck. “This kid sister of mine could marry the most eligible man in this colony-yes, in all Chicago-if she could just be awakened to some of the facts of life and be brought up to date. If she could learn that young folks don’t act nowadays as they did in the times of our dear old grandmother who practically reared her. And if she could just learn to be one of them. She’s got everything-even money-since Grandmother will furnish her with plenty when she passes on. And then she could spend all her time in reforming her husband if she wanted to. Not that we want her to marry a positive rake. I wish she could get somebody like you. Only, unhappily, there isn’t another.
“But that brings me to my thought. Why don’t you just-well-take her in hand a little? You know-bring out all those qualities in her that would fascinate men. Stir and stimulate her so that the good old S A will stick out all over her. You are the only one who could do this-you’ve made a most tremendous hit with the bashful lady. A quiet word from me to the general effect that a girl may properly go a lot further with you ought to do the trick. She wouldn’t allow anyone else but you in the way of lovely spooning, you know. She’s already succumbed so sweetly to the kisses which I’ve urged between you.
“Stan, dearest,” she want on excitedly, “for her own sake you ought to do this. She wouldn’t let anyone else go to any lengths with her. And, with her fiery if submerged nature, it wouldn’t be safe even if she did. I’ll give you all the carte blanche you want-you’ll know when to stop. But, darling, you said a while ago that she was second only to me. Don’t let her ever sneak into first place!”
“Old silly!” he cried softly and kissed her lips tenderly.
“I was only kidding, really,” she remarked, snuggling closer. “I know very well that I’ve got you nicely hooked, Mister Man!”
“This is a hell of a thing you’re suggesting, Mildred, I suppose you realize that,” he said. “For this kid has got every sort of fascination there is plastered down under a novice’s rearing, total inexperience, and a genuine shyness. And let me tell you that it’s no cinch for a man-especially a man already devoted to a certain lady whom she much resembles-to stop short when, if your surmise is correct, great depths of sheer glorious passion open before him with such a girl as Marion.”
“I know, dear, and I’ll make it up to you by being right there to act as a safety valve whenever needed,” smiled Mildred. “On the other hand, if you can put it over,-and I’m sure you can-you ought to have a pretty swell time yourself, oughtn’t you, teaching her things, seeing her come to life in your very arms?”
“Well, old pet, on your head be it,” he said, drawing a long breath. “Far be it from me to deny that it would be a rare treat to spoon with Marion. And I already love the young lady. See if you can’t slip her into one of your alleged bathing suits tomorrow.”
Dusted with fine sand, two splendid bodies lay in a sort of natural covert between two low sandhills. That the sand clung in tiny patches to their liberally exposed skins was due not to a plunge into the nearby lake-for they had been no nearer the water than they now were-but rather to the fact that each of the pair had been moved to the excitement and warmth that induces a suffusing perspiration.
Rustling reeds raised about them an added cover and whispered, too, in a faint breeze which felt refreshing to both those sweating bodies as the pair rolled perhaps a foot apart, equivalent to a painful separation. But this separation would be atoned for in the not distant future by a renewed grapple, that was very sure!
One of the extended bodies was a great array of muscular limbs and frame weighing at least a hundred and ninety. This body could readily have spotted eighty pounds to the other body, which appeared hardly more than half its bulk.
The fact is, however, that it was only at this instant that a near-sighted observer would have been able to swear that the bodies were two in number instead of one. For the previous fifteen minutes, indeed, they had been the practical equivalent of just one rather extraordinarily shaped form, so closely, so unintermittently had they been clasped together, with the smaller body enfolded and sheltered by the massive frame of the larger one. “Oh-Stanley, Stanley, Stanley!”
This mere ghost of a voice could hardly have been heard farther than the ear to which it was addressed. “Well, Maro old sweetness!” murmured a masculine voice.
And the man, smiling gently and happily, touched softly with a fingertip two delicate buds which seemed to be trying to pierce, on the summits of twin breasts, the fine fabric which afforded the scantiest of covering.
Marion quivered. She withdrew another inch. And she whispered reproachfully, “Ah, but that at least is not a kiss-to touch me that way.”
“Well, those touches are mere admiring salutes to a bust so exquisite that it is a shame it should be ever hidden from the eyes which it would gladden so much,” said the man.
“It isn’t very much hidden now, I’m afraid,” the girl replied shamefacedly as she glanced downward for an instant. “But you shouldn’t even notice-or, at least, speak of-part of me like that. Though it’s nice of you to approve if you must speak.”
“It would be somewhat difficult,” he smiled, “not to approve of such utterly lovely and adorable little breasts as those. Still, I restrain my enthusiasm, since it abashes you, and I merely say that somewhere in the world there may be breasts as beautiful as yours, but that it is very doubtful. And the dainty nipples point silently at me as if in thanks for the kisses which have aroused them from their sleep.”
“You make it worse and worse every time you open your mouth,” she said, leaning a smooth brow against his shoulder. “What a topic to ask a girl to discuss with a man!…Did anybody ever tell you that you have the most even and attractive white teeth, Stanley?”
“The better to nibble you with, fairest of sister-in-laws,” he explained.
“I believe you really would chew me, monster! You must have done every other thing there is!”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that! You seem to have a very erroneous idea of the extent of my repertoire. Indeed, I haven’t done a single thing since we came here except to kiss this rosy face, this sunny head, this soft neck, and these white shoulders and arms-kisses, I am forced to add, which it was difficult to get you to return.”
“There were other things too,” faltered Marion in the lowest of voices. “I shouldn’t have stayed-you know I should not.”
“Mere by-products-inevitable offshoots of our kisses,” he said. “And hence not in the least reprehensible even for my sensitive little novice.”
The girl drew a long breath which issued presently in soft sighs. “If we are to hug and kiss-if you are to hug and kiss-if you are to teach me all these startling things,” she began.
“All these detestable things?” he queried smilingly.
She laid her warm lips upon his brawny neck. “Don’t tease,” she whispered. “You know whether I detest them or not. But what I was going to say was that we should dress ourselves in real clothes for what Mildred calls spooning. It’s lovely, dear Stanley-yes, why should I be less than frank about an intense pleasure which you can very well see I experience? But hugging and rolling around so nearly unclad!”
“I would be keen to hug you even if clad in all sorts of things-with an opera cloak on top of them,” he said. “But the nearer I can get to the real you the pleasanter it is to embrace you.”
“Well, it drives me almost distracted. I don’t think I was wholly sane ten minutes ago,” she replied, with a candor that delighted him. “You see, our legs quite bare and our bodies tangled up and squirming-why, I had the most awful feeling all of a sudden that we were acting as even a husband and wife should be ashamed to act and I felt-I felt abashed and guilty to be enjoying so much of what conscience told me was wrong,” she said steadily. “And if it hadn’t been for what Mildred told me this morning after breakfast-“
“And that was?” he queried.
“She said I was too naive and unformed for words, that I positively needed to be taken in hand by a man who could be trusted not to go too far. That if I was ever to feel at ease at all among persons our age, I’d simply got to go a little pace with you since you were the only man ±n whom I was interested at all. And that since you were my relative, scandal couldn’t get at us.
“You see,” went on Marion rather breathlessly, “I suppose I was still rather flushed and upset-for you licked my lips you know you did-instead of just kissing me quite properly at breakfast time. And Mildred said she could have shaken me, that my timidity made even my own brother-in-law hesitant about taking me in his arms-and uncomfortable because I was so perturbed by a few little pettings. But you aren’t hesitant and uncomfortable, are you, Stanley?” “Not particularly,” he smiled briefly.
His companion mused in a rosy silence for a moment. “Mildred is simply a darling and I love her with all my heart,” she said at length. “But she does let her tongue gallop away with her once in a while, doesn’t she? She kept me as red as a peony for a while there. She scolded-not harshly, you understand, for she couldn’t be mean-because I refused last night to let you come into my room when she wanted to call you so that you could see my new gray silk combination. I wouldn’t have minded, Stanley, only I was in it at the time, trying it on, and it was every stitch I had on. So, you see, that would have been pretty terrible even for a nice brother, wouldn’t it? At least I thought so.
“And she said I had been silly to protest and run when she suggested after dinner last night that you should fix my garter. But how could I, Stanley let you do that? For it had come undone about my waist.” And she said that things that I thought hard and coarse and were just seasoning which teaches people to look with calm upon episodes which aren’t really of terrific importance-helping them to look, clear-eyed, on the facts of life. And she went on to say that it would be a good thing for me if some of these rapscallions of men got hold of me and tossed me in a blanket quite naked. Imagine-I know I should die! She was smiling, but I half think she meant it!”
“Some of them are quite capable of doing exactly that, small sister,” he laughed. “Especially with giggling girls and women to egg them on-and with a few drinks aboard each participant. In fact that and much more has been done on this very shore in the course of romps that tended to degenerate into revelry.”
The girl shuddered. She lessened the few inches which separated them. She snuggled a bit as if for protection against nameless outrages. “I shan’t dare go about here unless you are at hand,” she murmured. “I know you wouldn’t let them do such unspeakable things. Of course Mildred loves me whole-heartedly but somehow I feel that, if she got excited and mirthful, she might not protest in the least if they did the most terrible things to me!”
This lesson in “brotherly and sisterly” caresses was about to continue. Marion’s naked and wondrous legs had once again capitulated after various retreats, and mingled now with the stalwart limbs of the man. And this was only the second lesson which this expert and enthusiastic tutor had given her.
In a nervous silence, feeling as if she were going to a much graver assignation, the maiden had consented to accompany her brother-in-law for a second swim together. And she had not resisted or argued-after a brief start and hesitation-when he had led her toward the secluded nook which seemed designed for spooning.
She took some comfort in the fact that Mildred had smilingly consented to let her don a suit which she felt distinctly more proper than the one she had previously worn with Stanley. The garment-another one-piece affair, to be sure-was of cherry silk. It was much looser upon her body than the blue contrivance into which Mildred had managed almost to shove her on the day previous and hence it did not reveal so shamedly each curve and protuberance of the perfect little body of Marion. Nor did it stretch into such gauziness as to make it a mere film, as had been the case with the garment which had led to such nerve-wracking familiarities.
But already had the maiden had reason, with beating heart, to realize that this very looseness might prove a source of danger too. Not very serious danger, of course, since her reliable and loveable brother-in-law was pledged to “mere kisses,” although, as he had just carefully explained, the inevitable by-products of embraces and kisses could not be avoided.
She had been inclined to sit cross-legged upon the sand, looking solemnly at the man with gray eyes like a disturbed owl. She had resisted at first by instinct, perhaps the more because every nerve in her lovely body tingled for his arms and lips. When he had stretched upon the sand by her side, he began to draw her gently towards him.
“Stanley-Stanley, dear-be considerate, won’t you?” she had whispered a little huskily as, yielding, she was drawn to lie facing him.
“You’re all wrapped up like a mummy,” he complained disingenuously, touching her lightly here and there on the loose little garment, which left her smooth sides and chest and back, as well as legs and arms, quite uncovered.
“Don’t Stanley, I’m very nervous already,” sighed the girl, as his fingers strayed to the pit of her stomach. “You can’t, thank God, see my skin all through it, can you?”
A wee, perturbed wrinkle showed on her white brow.
“It’s horribly scanty at that. I’m very-uncovered. But Mildred said it was the most sedate one she had in all her sea shore wardrobe. She showed me one and vowed I should have one by the end of the week just like it. It was of white silk. You’ve probably seen it. She got into it to show me-hasn’t she got a lovely body, Stanley? And when she saw how sort of confused I was to see how nearly nude she looked in it and to realize that she dared appear in public in it, she stepped under the shower and then showed me the effect of water on it. My dear, she looked positively bare in the clinging, drenched thing! I really think you ought to speak to her about that suit. Has she ever worn it on the beach and into the water?”
“Two or three times,” he replied. “It’s a popular favorite in the colony. They howl for her to go back and get into it when she appears in any of her other suits.”
“And you let her?” queried Marion wonderingly.
He shrugged. “What could I do without making such a point of what, according to modern standards, is of slight importance, and then appear a spoil-sport and prude and a grumpy husband? To tell you the truth, I feel I have a right to be proud of having so lovely and so beautifully built a wife who, when her body is on view like a work of art, people gasp in admiration. To be sure, when she comes out of the water in that suit she is just the same as stark naked. She has to be-and sometimes she is-very careful how she sits. For a wee rose shows between her legs and I’ve seen men’s fingers curl and their eyes gleam when they catch sight of it. And a cute beard and pink nipples are served to the eyes of all comers.”
“Oh, heavens, Stanley, how can you say such things!” wailed the shocked Marion softly, writhing, chest to chest with him and held in his arms. “And how can you endure such things? She hasn’t had a mother or father, except for Aunt Josephine and Uncle Frank, and I guess they have been the reverse of strict. Shouldn’t you try to make her behave?”
“She behaves all right, the dear,” he remarked quietly. “Don’t you see, Maro, that it’s all a matter of social standards? This generation has decided that the prudish quibbles and fanatical reserves of a bygone time were just morbid-that they weren’t really innocent or lovely at all. So life is flavored with more of the honey of fun and frolic and of pretty things freely revealed and with less of the vinegar of prudish conventions. Oh, little sweetness, what a soft spot I’ve found to kiss!”
His warm lips were buried just beneath a pink ear. The girl sighed and stirred in his arms. And, for some fifteen minutes, the silence which reigned was broken only by such sighs and by the feverish breathing of two more and more agitated persons.
Marion quivered more and more with the surprising sensations awakened within her as her slender neck was decorated with heated yet gentle kisses. She had no desire to speak and perhaps thus break the spell, even if she could have spoken intelligibly.
Under her round little chin the warm lips snuggled, softly kissing, even tenderly licking.
“Ah,” she thought bewildered, “then the tongue may help the lips-even elsewhere than upon the mouth! It is very pleasant-shameful, I’m afraid-but, oh, God, wonderfully pleasant! It’s as if I were just a wee kitten-being licked and cleaned. Oh-and my temple-and cheeks-and forehead-how he does kiss and lick my face! I could scream, scream! Heavens, he’s licking my nose! I’m so afraid I shall cry out loud and maybe make him stop this marvelous, incredible shower of lovely caresses! Will he never take my mouth?”
Such was the frame of mind of the excited and trembling Marion, so it is hardly surprising that, as the man’s sensual lips were slowly laid upon the rosy, curving lips awaiting them, Marion gasped a trifle, tightened her bare and exquisite arms about the neck of her comrade and tutor, and performed the unmaidenly act of kissing him hotly even before his mouth had opened for that first mingling of their lips.
And the enraptured Stanley was to discover now to what an extent his pupil had profited by the first lesson in using more than just the portals of the mouth in demonstrating tender affection and luscious even if unpracticed passion.
For hardly had their yoked lips exchanged two lingering and loving kisses before a small and impatient tongue was covertly at work upon his lips, striving to part them yet more, moving with lascivious abandon between them, resentful of the barrier of the still closed teeth which prevented the exploiting of Marion’s new accomplishment.
He too was inflamed and sighing as he gave her moist, warm tongue the admittance which it mutely asked. He strove for self-mastery as he gave his tongue and the cavern of his mouth to the darting, coiling, licking caresses of the small demon which took possession thereof.
She was curved inward upon his half-circled body, nestling there in a protection and a retreat whose full measure of lascivious interchange she did not yet recognize. She was panting as their tongues writhed and played together, now in one mouth, now in the other. Her hard breasts heaved upon his wholly naked bosom-his bathing shirt was cut to the navel.
Their eyes were closed. Marion was pallid now with an agitation and a blissful palpitation of all her nerves almost too powerful for her endurance.
He compressed his lips upon the slippery tongue then slowly withdrew his mouth, allowing the girl’s red tongue to glide between his lips. Marion moaned softly as she felt her prized possession removed. Writhing against his body, conscious now in shivering ecstasy of the rampant and hard engine of his masculinity upon which her warm, soft belly was almost rolling, the thoroughly aroused child collapsed in his arms. She lay with her cheek pillowed on his bare shoulder, panting and pale from excitement.
Gently he soothed and cradled her. He slipped a muscular thigh presently between her naked legs. Sighing, and half-unconscious of his maneuver, she squeezed the hard, bare leg between her own thighs.
His soft and resuscitating kisses were quite brotherly now, even if that clasped and intruding leg of his was far from brotherly in its intent and in its effect.
Slowly the color revived in the oval smoothness of Marion’s cheeks. She opened languorous, swimming eyes. Aware suddenly, of a naked knee which had slipped upward to press upon her almost nude and throbbing crotch, she gave the brazen limb a shamed push, which it accepted as notice of eviction and moved some inches downward. “Oh, Stanley,” she sighed, cheek to cheek with him now. “Isn’t that the most wonderful way to kiss? Don’t you suppose we just gave each other the most entrancing kiss that was ever exchanged?”
“I would be willing to enter it in any osculatory competition whatever-professionals not barred,” he said with his attractive smile.
“Do you and Mildred and other people kiss just like that?” she asked faintly.
“There is precedent,” he replied gravely. “I didn’t lay claim to the discovery, you know. And as for Mildred, she loves that kind of kiss.”
“Well, it must be all right then,” she murmured comfortably. “For Mildred distinctly told me that we should kiss in any way that you wished and that I liked. She said it would give me aplomb and control. But I don’t feel very well under control just now, Stanley, except by these great arms and legs of yours. Please, please, withdraw your thigh from between mine for it makes me feel-oh-I can’t tell you just how!”
Well, get in between my legs then,” he suggested. “Legs may hug as well as arms, Maro.”
For a moment she resisted but presently she found herself, nevertheless, held by hard thighs which pressed her own. She snuggled against him now in an increased intimacy of contact which was very comfortable and very delightful, if only one could mentally ignore the great affair which made him male and which, she decided, he could not help having or even help its being so infinitely disconcerting and so agitating, so suggestive and thrilling.
She was pulling roguishly at the matted dark hair upon his great chest. “You licked my whole face like a puppy,” she said. “It made me feel so queer. But now I know why-all this fur shows that you are just a great St. Bernard-or maybe a splendid mastiff.”
He grinned boyishly. “Getting used to brother’s big body, aren’t you, Maro?” he commented. “Not so frightened over seeing me in this rag of a two-ounce suit as you were?”
She shook her head, flushing. “I guess I was silly about that,” she said. “But you did-you do-look so very bare in it, and you’re so big and white and hairy, only burned here and there. And I’d never seen any men this way, you know. But I do begin to like to see you this way-and you are splendid, you know. And I do begin to see, too, that it is rather foolish to be squeamish about being as unhampered and comfortable as can be-for swimming or for any sports. But all this hair-it’s just a trifle bothersome. Isn’t it the least bit indecent to have it all on display?”
“Oh, ‘all’!” he exclaimed. “Only samples, sweet sister. You’d be surprised!”
She flushed more deeply but continued to twist the dark strands playfully and even to rub the exhibited nipples with soft hands in a new forwardness which she failed to recognize as such and which hugely pleased the man. “It does make you like a great animal,” she murmured. “I’d be scared if there were more of it!”
“My blessed Maro!” he exulted. “You’ve found a sort of finger kiss that is extremely pleasant-and it’s your own invention, as far as I am concerned. When you rub me there and twirl my nipples under your palms it gives me sensations!”
“Sensations?” she queried ashamedly. “I’m not being disgustingly naughty, I hope. I-I sort of like to pet you here-and-since my fingers seem to please you-well-could I just…”
Her soft voice died away as, quivering, she found fortitude and courage to lay her warm lips on the pink circle and the rosier tip which imitated so absurdly the ornaments of her own swelling bust.
Stanley’s surprise, as well as his pleasure in this unexpected advance of his timid and modest sister-in-law, were very genuine. For it was a novelty to him to learn that the ardent kisses of lovely feminine lips on such a sterile spot could have an effect so very pleasant.
He yearned suddenly for more of those kisses. As if reading his thoughts, and content to thus assuage her own desires and his since surely this was a kiss she had been taught was permissible between them, Marion let a rosy, shamed tongue mingle with the movements of her lips.
For several minutes-she kissed each nipple and licked each tiny tip, too, with growing gusto and pleasure. “Oh!” she cried chokingly, showing him for an instant a rosy and intent face, “You’d be surprised, Stanley, dear, how very nice it is to pet you this way. And I’m going to do for you the same thing you did to my nose and my chin…”
Her voice died away, muffled by the flesh and hair of his chest. He shivered, to the gentle, and then to the feverish, suction which her dainty lips applied to each of his nipples. “My little precious!” he sighed tenderly. “That is absolutely delightful, and all your own, as I’ve told you. And since it feels so good I’m beginning to envy the women who have babies and nurse them.”
“I’m afraid it must be really very naughty,” Marion sighed, raising a flushed face reluctantly, “since it makes us both feel so-agitated. And Grandmother always said that we should be suspicious of things that we found very enjoyable, for the devil baits his traps with tempting sensations.”
“We’ve got a good many of the grandmotherly shackles still to break, haven’t we?” he smiled.
“Oh, I know she’s old fashioned, but she is a dear,” his companion conceded. “But until now I’ve had only her. Now I’ve got you and Mildred and I can’t tell you how happy it makes me! Don’t you think Mildred is a darling-in all ways, of course-but I mean for letting us, even coaxing us, to have such lovely ‘spoonings’ together?”
“She’s all of that!” he said fervently. “She’s a broadminded and clever old sweet, and she loves us both with all her heart.”
“But I just cannot understand,” observed Marion, as she pressed the narrow band of his bathing-suit into a mere wisp and laid her flushed cheek on his white, hard stomach, “how you can seem so indifferent or even amused when she lets everybody in sight kiss her whenever they meet-that Gerard Crandall and Charley Barlow and, oh, all the grown men and the boys too.”
“She’s very kissable,” said Stanley, unruffled. “And it’s a great treat for them to feel those lips of hers melt against theirs in that way she has of making a kiss a real event. It’s the custom of the country also, my sweet.”
“Oh, I know,” murmured Marion with just a touch of what she failed to recognize as jealousy in her tone. “I’ve seen how you lay your lips on those of Sylvia Crandall and Suzanne Barlow and all these other girls on a sudden impulse when something you have said or done has amused or pleased you. But, well, anyhow, you don’t go out with any of them and kiss and kiss and kiss the way you do with me, do you?”
“Not even with Mildred,” he laughed.
He took her head of dusky gold in his broad palms and, after rubbing his almost naked belly with her unresisting but reddening soft cheeks, he suddenly lowered the lovely head until one of the girl’s cheeks lay right on his enlarged and stiffened sex.
For an instant the maiden failed to recognize the nature of the contact. Then the warmth of velvet cheek and of swollen virility communicated through the thin black silk. He saw her lovely eyes widen and her face glow scarlet. Her white neck stiffened into revolt and he allowed her to raise her abashed head.
“Oh, my God, Stanley, how could you do a thing like that!” she gasped tremulously.
Her eyes started wildly into his and he saw that the maiden was shivering. It was clear that an episode which would have passed as a suggestive and welcome joke in the midst of the young colonists on the beach, and which would have aroused uproarious laughter and perhaps would have brought him a slap on the cheek and then a kiss from some young wife thus affronted, had torn this virgin’s spirit tremendously. “What?” he queried, with disingenuous innocence. “Oh, you mean the laying of your cheek where ‘little girls mustn’t touch!’ It was nothing to get so stirred up about. Just a momentary hard pillow for my small sister. Don’t you recognize the fact, dear, that this puritan and ‘chaste’ upbringing you’ve had has just succeeded in making you squeamish about bodies, including your own adorable body?”
Still wide-eyed, Marion pondered this for a minute. “Perhaps-“ she faltered, “you may be right, Stanley, to some extent. I see what you mean, at least. Since we’re all human beings together, why make ogres out of each other? Is it something like that? Yet certainly, for the sake of the race, we must maintain certain reserves, and you wouldn’t want girls of your own household to be entirely blase and hardened, would you?”
And Marion looked grieved. “I don’t think I’ve been as squeamish about bodies as you accuse me of being. I’m not conscious of having harbored bad thoughts about them or being unduly obsessed by them. Though, of course-“
She flushed again at her effort at a frank self-disclosure. “Of course,” she continued, “I’ve been affected by our ‘petting.’ That couldn’t be avoided, could it? But I think I was clear minded, at first anyway, in merely a keen admiration for your strong body.”
With a soft laugh, he caught her up for a quick hug and a kiss.
“You are the cutest thing, Maro!” he said. “But you’ll be the death of me yet! Listen, Mildred thinks you should pick yourself a nice, wealthy, attractive husband, and there will be plenty of aspirants. But consider this thought in case any man should strike your fancy strongly enough so that you accept his suit: You’ll be condemning him to an unpleasant destiny because I’ll certainly kick him all about the place and out the front door!”
“But good heavens!” gasped Marion, wide of eye once more. “I don’t want to get married! I haven’t the slightest notion of it!”
“You’d better not!” he growled with a smile in his brown eyes. “At least not until the real prince comes along, one whom I can wholly approve and think worthy of you.”
She paid no attention in her ardent desire to disclaim utterly her sister’s benevolent plans. “I’d far rather be just a sister to you and Mildred,” she said. “And maybe a friend to your very best friends.”
“A worse fate-for you and for us-could readily be imagined,” he smiled.
“Yet,” suggested Marion, calming a little and continuing a gentle massage of his belly as she lay in his arms, “yet, after all, it’s sort of tyrannical for you to assume to forbid me, in case I wished. It’s as if you were to announce possession of me, as if I were a conquered people or a newly discovered land.”
“Looked at like that,” he admitted, “it sounds detestable of me.”
“Oh, not detestable!” cried Marion softly.
With one bare arm she hugged his neck while her other hand trailed downward along the isthmus of dark hair which led from the grove on his chest. The hand nipped and pulled gently. It slipped beneath the fabric to follow that fascinating band of hair down over the navel. “Not detestable!” she disclaimed again. “Do you know; Stanley, I wasn’t the least bit peeved, really. I rather liked you so bossy.”
He held his breath, maintaining an utter silence lest he should disturb her little reverie. For in that reverie the girl did not observe at all that the primitive construction of his suit made the present location of her caressing fingers on his abdomen rather perilous.
In her interest in that trail of soft hair, she pursued it well below the indentation of his navel. And suddenly her fingers paused in brief bewilderment. Then she cried out chokingly in deepest shame. She snatched away her hand. She buried her rosy face in his neck.
For the isthmus of hair had ended suddenly in a regular thicket. And, pressed downward into that thicket by the confinement of the strained fabric, lay a bald, smooth, warm, hard something which her fingertips had momentarily touched-touched and then gropingly taken just the merest bit of its substance into a clasp which delighted him beyond words.
“Oh-o-o-o-o-h-oh, God-Stanley-!” she gasped in a wee wail. “I-I didn’t m-mean-I didn’t realize-can you ever forgive me?”
“Precious numbskull,” he soothed, the tan of his face suffused with red, “it was just a joke on you. I let it happen-with delight, I assure you. You haven’t committed the crime of the ages. No longer ago than last week, when we were having a beach picnic in the moonlight, a young schoolgirl of this colony performed the same exploration on my body. And Mildred, sitting on my other side, observed it and smiled at me. But this girl of whom I speak did it deliberately, out of purely sensual curiosity, all the while continuing to show me the naked bust which had escaped from her little suit and which had produced that swelling in my bathing costume in the first place. “She was not sure of impunity at first-she’s only seventeen-and her movements were very furtive and slow. But she soon saw she could act as she liked and she was too absorbed to notice Mildred’s amused, sparkling eyes. She did not just touch and run, as you did, Maro. No, she grasped and toyed and fondled. But suddenly she withdrew her hand. She kissed me hotly and furtively on the thigh and she rolled over and buried her face in her arms. She was shaking like a leaf in the moonlight and Mildred vows she spent. And that same lady swears too that it was undoubtedly the first time this small but lascivious Betty had ever had the opportunity to touch such a nude affair, which may be correct.”
“Spent-sp-spent?” whispered Marion. “Oh, yes-oh-d-don’t t-tell me-I think I understand. But how could you and Mildred let that go on! I should have cried out if I had been there and I should have lunged at her!”
“It was by no means an unnatural thing for her to want to do, the sensual, curious child,” observed Stanley. “And so, when she found by slow experiment that it was permitted to her, she couldn’t resist-any more than I could. Yet I think this small Betty comes nearer to being in what we call a state of innocence than any other member of this group of young people.”
“Well, I don’t like it!” announced Marion. “You should all be ashamed-you and Mildred and the girl-and I’d have done something about it if I’d been there!”
“Who’s being possessive now?” he laughed far from ill pleased by the manifest but unconscious jealously which moved his sister-in-law a jealously of which he knew that even Mildred had not been entirely free at the time of the episode he had narrated, but which that charming wife of his had found provocative of sensuality rather than sadness.
But this reflection stirred him to emulate the frankness of this beautiful maiden and to try to make clear to her the psychology of an earlier topic. “You are speaking-and you’ve been pondering on the matter-of the way in which we kiss and fondle and take even greater liberties without regard for ties of marriage or kinship or anything else,” he said. “That is pretty nearly universal nowadays wherever young people, married or unwedded, get together with a party of friends or even with a few strangers scattered among them. I’m not claiming it’s pure joy for me to see Mildred’s lovely lips crushed against the mouth of another man in a kiss from which each of them draws pleasure. But there’s such a thing-it’s a bit of rather abstruse psychology, Maro-as finding a queer enjoyment in what is theoretically an outrage and a grievance.
“It’s certainly a brazen pilfering of my property by the man-a brazen delivery of it by Mildred-with no account taken of me in the transaction whatever. And the woman may as well find that-often without her being able to explain or analyze it-she gets a thrill out of being robbed of her exclusive rights to the man’s caresses and affection.
“There are plenty of cases in which this tendency to gain a perverse delight out of being outraged may grow to an extent which a maiden like you would find incredible. I have known-I know now-a very highly placed man who was visited at his home by an old college mate in whose utter reticence he thought he could confide, and he carried his naked and squealing young wife to the bed of his guest and left her there. I know another who performed the unspeakable act of drugging his own unmarried sister-with whom I’ve always thought him to be unconsciously in love-and allowing his closest male friend to help him strip her to the skin. And they made of it a rite lasting more than an hour, not counting the subsequent two or three hours during which, at some risk of the girl recovering sufficiently to know what was going on, the two rascals did everything except take her virginity.
“This first man-he’s a wealthy single man-whispered the tale to me himself at a club. And I hardly knew whether to feel the more flattered that he should so highly rate my trustworthiness or to feel insulted that he should feel I would not violently resent what he had done.”
Marion was squeezing her soft lips with the fingers of one hand as if to choke back agitated words. “What-oh, my God, how foul! What else did they do to her?” she whispered shakily.
“I’d better not tell you,” he said. “You’re pretty overwrought already, sweet sister. But what I am driving at is that all the sensuality which really sways the world in shot with perversity. And these chaps were not roughnecks at all but very respectable and respected citizens impelled by lust to sudden rampage.”
“Tell me,” he heard in a faint whisper.
“They removed their clothing,” he went on, “and they coiled her fingers about their excited members. They lay beside her, pressing her between them. They lay upon her. They rubbed their excited tools-“
“Stanley!” expostulated the girl feebly.
“-upon her naked body, he continued. “You’ve asked for this, Maro! They raised her loins and dragged her to the edge of her bed. Then they parted her legs to permit themselves to rub their stiff organs right in the groove of her sex. They laughed to see her face redden and her white body grow tense as what they were doing affected her nerves and gave her lecherous dreams even in her unbroken unconsciousness.
“The brother heard his maddened friend gasp out a plea that the girl should be violated and an offer of a fortune for the privilege. He laughed, more than half-crazed himself, and he vowed that he himself would give much more than that if he dared possess her.”
“No-no-no!” gasped the trembling Marion, her voice rising into a little shriek. “No more-don’t tell me more! It’s like a glimpse into the inferno of human-inhuman-foulness and brutality. Oh, Stanley, it hurts me somehow-wholly aside from shocking me unspeakably. For something of horror now seems to rest even upon the gentle, tender caresses which are so lovely since they lead to passion and passion leads to such excesses.”
“You’re passionate, aren’t you, old sweetness?” said Stanley happily. “I must confess that I didn’t think you were until I saw your marvelous response to my kisses.”
“Mildred says-“ whispered Marion shamefacedly.
She paused, hesitating, and then laid her lips to his ear. “She says I am very passionate by nature-like her-like our parents-like you. I don’t know how she knows or even whether she’s right. I didn’t know it myself. If she is correct-“ she breathed.
“Yes Mildred told me you would be a darling volcano if aroused,” he said indiscreetly. “She explained that she was sure you were passionate by nature.”
“How dare she tell you that and then go on to encourage us to be alone together and to pet!” cried Marion indignantly. “Why, it’s just as if she had said to you: ‘Here’s my hot-blooded young sister. Kiss and hug her and she’ll get very excited and you’ll see how very naughty she can be, though she poses as such a prim thing!’ I don’t think it was nice of her at all, really, I don’t.”
“You know she just wanted to pry you out of your otherworldness, to counteract your upbringing, to make you one of the young set to which you were born,” he said mildly careful not to caress her in this guarded mood. “And your fortunate brother-in-law is the chosen instrument of the process.”
“Are you just an ‘instrument,’ Stanley?” she asked. “Don’t you really mean any of the sweet things you have done to me?”
“You know whether I mean them, sweetness, little beauty with the exquisite face and the dear dimples and the shining hair!” he whispered.
He was half lying upon her now as they both turned suddenly dangerously tender. And Marion, looking him full in the eyes, was trembling, disconcerted, happy, unresisting.
He buried his face, his moving lips, in her lovely neck. He kissed her upper arms, the shaven nooks beneath them. He let his lips return to her for a torrid kiss.
And his mouth sank to a bare and comely shoulder, so very poorly protected, like its mate, by the loose, scant garment she wore. “You would kiss and pet my body, would you, trying to outrage a poor, delicate creature when all I had done was to kiss and caress your sweet face!” He raised his head to observe with her loving mockery. “Well, there is such a thing as revenge in this humdrum world, as dainty pirates like you may discover!”
“Stanley, oh, Stanley, Stanley!” sighed the maiden.
Flat upon her back now, her bare thighs enduring between them the agitating invasion of the male leg which he had cast over her nearer one, her smooth and lovely shoulders warm from his exploring lips, Marion had hardly stirred and had not protested at all as the delicious kisses covered all the revealed skin of her upper chest as with an invisible garment.
But, since the wee slip of a suit was very deeply cut in a V-shaped front, and since the mouth of her brother-in-law rested now directly between the exquisite mounds which heaved on either side of his lips with the girl’s agitated breathing, and since his lips contrived to push somewhat farther to the side the silk which so loosely and thinly covered her breasts and to rest caressingly against each inner slope for a moment, the bedrugged and dormant guardians of her fundamental chastity awakened alarmed as they had been when this same man had laid torrid, lascivious lips just beneath the promontories of the dimpled buttocks.
“Oh, Stanley!” Marion stammered, striving vainly to press aside the hands which bound her, shoulder and thigh, to keep her in position for this browsing which was to him a treat beyond compare. “Stanley, dear, please, don’t kiss me on my bust! And don’t-oh, don’t uncover me-and kiss me anymore!” she whispered.
And she ended with a little whimpering wail for suddenly feverish, firm lips, which would not be frustrated by a loose, light fold of silk, had pressed the fabric even farther to one side. Lips that trembled, lips that shot heat through the weakly struggling Marion, fixed themselves in a long kiss upon the rosy bud which formed a glorious adornment at the very summit of the perfect, milky white breast.
“Oh, my God, my God!” burst from the quivering lips of the girl. “Let me loose-don’t kiss me there. Cover my bosom, Stanley! Oh, Stanley, you’re driving me crazy! You don’t w-want m-me, Stanley, you don’t want me to insist upon going back home-and never, never coming out alone with you again, do you!”
“I do not,” he replied. “Nor, do I expect to allow such an infantile action as that. Did anyone ever tell you, darling little Maro, that your breasts are beyond compare in sheer beauty?”
“Stanley, you’re hurting me, making me lose my faith in you,” she cried plaintively yet moved, despite all her shame in this first revelation of her nude bosom to male eyes, by his earnest eulogy, as well as by the hot kiss which he now proceeded to lay upon her other nipple after his pushing lips had uncovered it.
Since he wished to utilize his hands otherwise than in holding her feebly struggling form as they had been doing, he eased his great body farther upon hers, pinning her down at hips and belly by a firm weight which he strove to keep from being oppressive but which added much to Marion’s agitation.
“There-you’re violating our compact!” she panted. “You have pushed my suit almost down to my waist. And your lips, your lips! Do you want me to go quite mad!”
He raised a flushed brown head. “Violating our compact?” he queried reproachfully. “How can you accuse me of that, Maro? What am I doing?”
“You’re half-stripping me,” she quavered. “And seeing me and kissing me in spots where not even my sister’s husband has any right to. And you’re humiliating me and making me feel that you don’t respect me in the least, and treating me as if-!”
“Ah, kissing you,” he sighed. “And wasn’t I to have that sweet privilege, dear, by our agreement?”
“Well, but I thought it meant only my face,” she quavered. “And, anyhow, the stripping-that is certainly not kissing-or spooning-or petting-as we were to do within limits!”
“Would you wish me, then, to kiss your bathing suit?” he smiled. “Kisses are for the skin, darling sister. Ask Mildred if you’re in doubt of that.”
She was silent for a moment, palpitating, bewildered by his argument. With head still raised, he gloried in the rise and fall of the adorable, firm, bare breasts in the sunlight with the accelerated breathing of the maiden.
“Then you think I’ve committed myself to being kissed quite anywhere you wish?” “she whispered faintly. “But, my God, Stanley, at least, have mercy and be contented with what you already have! For, if you were to kiss me again on-where you did yesterday-I’m certain I should have hysterics. Your lips on my breasts drive me almost wild, and being half-naked with you this way! I couldn’t stand more-indeed I couldn’t. So be a very sweet and dear brother and be kind to a girl who is trying to keep her word to you.”
“Then you concede to me this darling bosom-this torso of radiant, rosy white, this form which I have never seen equalled anywhere?” he whispered gloatingly.
Marion was silent, struggling in the throes of an internal conflict in which those monitors of her chastity found their voices almost drowned out by the thumping of the drums of her senses. For her brother-in-law had added to the force of his irresistible arguments and his even more irresistible personality by slipping his own almost nude torso upwards on her own. And now, as he laid his lips gently on her mouth, her naked breasts were pressed deliciously by the shaggy and muscular chest of the man.
She squirmed gently beneath him but did not refuse him her warm and clinging lips. “I-I suppose I must-since you already appear to have me-uncovered there for your kisses,” she whispered. “And since I seem to have made a very foolish and unforeseeing promise to you”
“My young blessed!” he said fondly, making her gasp by the gentle friction of his chest upon her sensitive bust. “And let me reassure you a little if I can by telling you that even this which we are doing is no more than ‘petting’, as petting is understood by the young lights of the up-and-coming generation. And I’ll take the liberty of reminding you, too, Miss Stone, now that you have recovered a trifle of self-control, that your own sweet lips wandered-playfully, no doubt, at first, but later quite warmly and excitedly-upon my own body in these same regions.”
“I-I know I did that” murmured the flushed Marion. “I hardly realized. I know I was being held-but I did get so excited when I found how nice it was to do and how it agitated you too. And-oh, I don’t know just why-but I seemed to go into a fever of indecent actions. Your great body, hard and strong, but with skin so fine and soft. And it just seemed to me that I must pet it a little and kiss your funny, cute little imitation nipples, too”
“You did more than kiss them, my dear Miss Stone,” he observed with mock severity. “And, if I am not mistaken, this very soft and delicate little hand had an audacity which shocked me to the very core. Vengeance in kind is my motto. And so-how would you like it if I-?”
Instantly the beleaguered and apprehensive Marion was in a shivering, writhing stew in which she tried, with futility, to slip from beneath the weight of his body. “Don’t-oh I beg, I plead. It will be all over between us, I warn you, Stanley!” she wailed feverishly.
For her brother-in-law had laid his flattened hand upon her body just beneath the denuded bosom and his extended finger tended downwards, touching the tiny pit of the navel in the middle of the belly of satin then still slipping farther as if determined to return the visit, the unintentional, indiscreet visit, so hastily paid to his own secrecies by a maidenly hand half an hour earlier. Under the fabric which still covered the abdomen it advanced very slowly. Almost at the verge of a silken thicket it paused. “You threaten me, eh, lady, with the bane of your eternal displeasure?” he said thickly.
This beautiful and nearly nude girlish body drove him more nearly mad than he could recall ever having been in these circumstances.
“No!” Marion almost shouted as his hand made another ominous move, this time touching soft curls. “No, no!” cried the girl shakily. “I don’t threaten-I beg-I plead with you not to shame me to death by what it would almost kill me to endure!”
He smiled down into her reddened face and into her almost terrified eyes. Then he slowly withdrew his hand from within her very thin garment and she released haltingly the breath which she had caught and held in her apprehension of that masculine touch upon her privacies.
“Oh-thank you!” she whispered tremulously. “I knew you couldn’t be so-so cruel as that.”
And, it was perhaps in the outburst of her gratitude over being spared such an unendurably libidinous contact, that Marion now so sweetly succumbed to whatever else he had in mind for her in the way of somewhat less soul-shaking familiarities. With her glorious young breasts he did now as he pleased. And life-for Marion-became a succession of thrills which made her tremble and sigh and sometimes moan in the ardor which he awakened in the recesses of her tingling body.
Her lips and her bosom shared now the contact of his sensual mouth, and always she hugged and kissed him heatedly when his voracious lips drifted upward from their fair pastures below to grip and to hold hers. Their tongues writhed and licked in serpentine juncture and the shaking girl, moaning with the innocent lechery which this mutual caress always awakened in her, was too intent upon its joys to note clearly how one of his hands feasted here and there upon her body while their tongues were playing and their lips clinging and sucking.
Every bit of her exquisite form he visited thus. And though her scant suit still clung in some places, he was unhampered by any fabric on her lovely legs and bust and belly.
It was with a panting regret that she released his neck from her clinging, warm arms when he manifested the desire to feast his maddening lips again upon her body. Her breasts almost ached with the straining delight of his kisses and lickings and of the soft suction which he applied every little while to the rigid coral treasures of her nipples. She was gurgling, panting, rolling at last from the immense passion and thwarted desires which arose from the caverns where they had slept. “Oh-o-o-o-o-o-h-God in heaven!” she wailed softly a last. “I think you are killing me with pleasure, Stanley, darling! I can’t stand it-I can’t, I can’t. It makes me ache to be wicked, wicked-to pretend I’m your wife, to be your wife, your-your anything! You don’t want me this way, Stanley, you want me to be still your decent sister. This is-oh, unspeakably lovely-but it makes me bad, bad, bad!”
The long silence which ensued upon Marion’s quavering protests was broken only by the rasping sighs of the man and the softer and more plaintive sighs of the maiden. She now felt that her short lifetime of modesty and aloofness from carnal impulses had been transformed into burning, unformulated desires which wracked her. She realized that little by little her scant apparel was gradually slipping yet farther downward. Her arms had been entirely freed of the fabric now, the arm holes withdrawn over her hands. Upon a cream belly masculine fingers took a delicate pleasure.
For Stanley had so ensconced himself now between the extended and naked legs that he lay directly upon her body, and Marion was victim of the atavistic and age-old fires which burn within the human female when made to serve as bed for the male.
For an instant he knelt on the sand between the widely parted legs of the lass, and the instant sufficed for him to peel his bathing shirt over his head.
Marion, without opening her eyes, gasped as he lay once more upon her. For now she could feel clearly the mingling of their naked torsos, and the magical effect of the contact of their skins, of their bared bellies, led the girl, as well as the man, into ecstatic delight.
She shivered and clung to his neck as, relieving her of the weight she already adored to feel upon her body, he swept her breasts, her velvet belly, with his own nudity. With gently fumbling fingers he pressed still farther downward the crumpled band of silk which still clad Marion and also the short trunks which constituted all his own remaining attire. And it was upon the full, wee mound of her sex, upon the uncovered grove of silken ringlets which adorned that mound, that he pressed now not only the crisp forest of his own secrecies but the naked and rampant rod which had already fired the girl to frenzy and threatened the utter rout of her chastity.
Between her legs she felt the light swaying of a sack whose nature she did not fully comprehend. And, even though a slip of silk still covered her wee cleft, it seemed to her that she felt the heat of that naked sack through the fabric.
Relying upon the trembling, weakened state of his young sister-in-law-conscious that she now shared his own fires to the full even in her ignorance and innocence-Stanley crouched over her somewhat higher and offered himself the sensual joy rubbing his huge erection over the tender, heaving young belly.
But with this maddening contact savored to the full, the appalled instincts of all her native purity collected their forces for one effort more in behalf of chastity. To Marion this would mean only one thing: she was to be used-nay, she was being used-as a woman is used by a man.
“Spare me, spare me!” she half-sobbed, and, writhing beneath his covering body, she managed the supreme effort necessary to turn herself upon her face.
“Why, you silly, sweet, darling little wretch!” cried Stanley and he fell upon the white satin of her bared back with gentler kisses as he sensed more fully her dismay. “Did you actually think I was going to be false to my pledge when you have so loyally sustained yours? You’re shivering, blessed baby: What did you think I was going to do to you?”
“I thought-oh, I thought you were going to-take me!” quavered Marion, her golden head buried in her arms. “When you had us both all bare that way.”
“Never!” he cried impulsively.
And then he modified his pledge: “That is, never unless both you and Mildred actually urge it and unless your sister agrees that it will do no harm for you to have the pre-marital experience that so many of our unwedded girls have had.”
She gave a little choked cry. “Then it will be never,” she quavered. “But, Stanley, how can you keep referring to all this as merely ‘kissing’ when you know very well that you-that we-are acting most atrociously?”
“Kissing-and spooning-and a little petting-“ he maintained. “Just a sweet, feverish enjoyment for both of us and with no evil effect whatever.”
He was gloating over the silken expanse of her small and perfect back and shoulders. For the maiden was nude to the loins in the rear as she had been in front.
He kissed the smooth skin in a dozen spots. His lips lay tenderly on the dimples which were revealed just above the crumpled fabric of the bathing suit. His palms smoothed the white, soft sides. And Marion, sighing and vibrating anew, had no word of expostulation.
Suddenly he saw her tremble violently and heard her moan softly. And he noted that his swaying member was touching ever and again her exquisite flesh and that the effect of this recognizable contact was maddening to the girl.
Raising the elastic cord of his trunks, he covered his virility. “As I told you,” he whispered,” kisses may be applied with more than the lips-with tender fingers, with skin touching skin. And you must not be too quick to blame yourself or both of us. For I tell you, precious sister, that such joys as we are sharing are indulged in with no qualms whatever by these cultured, highly bred young people of our set. Maidens and youths, young wives and husbands, have lain naked in each other’s arms in this very hollow in the moonlight and in many another spot on this beach. And they permit themselves ‘everything but that’ in the way of pleasures. And they take no thought whatever of whether it is their own mate or fiance who is with them, since a new body always has its added charm of mystery and delight.”
“Stanley, dearest, it’s inconceivable, what you tell me!” cried the maiden. “But surely they must be very common wretches-in spite of a veneer of refinement!”
“Not at all,” he declared. “They are what we are accustomed to regard as the flower of our civilization, for you know that none but a chosen few can even get into this colony. But they simply decline to be bound any longer by rigid conventions which have deprived us of many many, hours of happy dalliance in the past.”
“Yet certainly,” she argued, turning her lovely flushed face sideways to allow him a quick kiss upon her lips as his snuggling mouth mutely quested it, “certainly they cannot always restrain themselves-can they-from-from actual unfaithfulness to marriage vows or to betrothal pledges?”
He smiled, just a shade grimly.
“They cannot,” he admitted. “And this moon which is looking down on us now has seen things which would make mere marital infidelity seem as innocent as rosebuds by comparison. Infidelity is frequent, to be sure, but, since in the very next hollow in the sand, hubby may be doing likewise with wifey’s intimate friend, wifey fears no wracking reproach for giving herself entirely. But many of our friends (married or unmarried) pride themselves upon the fidelity and determination with which they have avoided normal penetrations of the body. Yet, in this avoidance, they succumb to perversities for the sake of the spasm, perversities which make the moon draw a cloud over its shining face and which would seem to you entirely incredible if I essayed to describe them.”
Marion shuddered but her imagination was unable to apprise her in the least of his meanings. It did not, nevertheless, fail to inform her gentle pressures had so lowered the suit beneath her loins in the rear that some inches of the crevice between her buttocks must be very indecently revealed, for his lips were straying between pauses in his words and she could feel a moist and very perturbing tongue softly licking along that shameful crack.
As she sent a small hand to repair the indelicate exposure in her rear, the slender wrist was gently grasped and the fingers rendered impotent, while, very slowly, the unveiling of the upper slopes of those snowy buttocks continued.
“I beg of you, Stanley, for the sake of heaven!” she cried softly. “Can’t you see that you are making me shudder with shame?”
“The shame, my darling, is an aphrodisiac-not that you are in need of one” he replied. Nevertheless, he refrained from further revelations of her almost denuded person-and he pillowed his cheek luxuriously upon the nearly naked backside.
Struggling for self-control, Marion ended by tacitly acquiescing in being thus used as a pillow, while her soft thighs and her silken back were gently caressed by his wandering fingers. “But surely you and Mildred, at least,” she murmured as remembered his previous amazing disclosures, “do not yield to these shameful promiscuities.”
“Mildred is a young and adorable rogue,” he said. “She loves to pester and excite these young chaps by showing this and that, usually as if by chance, and then smiling cooly upon them when they manifest agitation. Her marvelous breasts-worthy rivals even of yours, Maro-almost broke up a social gathering the other day when she showed them playfully, offering me non-existent sustenance from them.”
“My dear!” gasped Marion. “I should think you would have expired of shame and indignation-and have beaten her or something.”
“That cave-mannish stuff is a bit outmoded,” smiled her brother-in-law. “Though Mildred enjoys a simulacrum of it at times. And she is nothing loath to whack me sometimes in a little game she has invented in which I play the role of her child instead of her husband, until a certain moment in the proceedings. There are girls here, though, who like nothing so much as to be shamefully and painfully flogged under condition of the utmost possible indecency-and by persons with no right whatever over them.”
“Good heavens, I certainly can’t comprehend that!” cried the maiden. “Did you speak to Mildred about what we were talking of yesterday-letting that Gerry Crandall into her boudoir, I mean and letting him raise her bare foot to kiss it, exposing her terribly while doing so?”
“I did,” replied Stanley placidly. “And we both laughed heartily about the way in which his eyes had bulged and his face reddened and-well-another symptom of his state which was quite manifest.”
Silence fell once again, but a silence speedily punctuated by husky girlish protests. “Stanley, Stanley, you seem to have sworn to make me faint with sheer shame! What a place to kiss-right-right between there! Yes, I know I said you could kiss me, but I never thought you would be so low and vulgar as-“
He murmured indistinct words which Marion barely caught. “Yes-I do love your kisses-there, I’ve admitted it!” she panted. “But-to open me this way-in such a spot-and to lay your lips there-and-and use your tongue too! It makes me wild-I could faint with shame!”
Again-with his voice muffled by the abundant flesh which masked it as he perversely explored with face and lips and tongue the rosy valley between the lovely buttocks which his fingers parted, Stanley murmured something.
“Well, yes,” she assented again. “Perhaps it’s more than just shame that moves me. I know-I c-can-h-hardly-t-talk! Oh, God, Stanley, let me up! If you don’t s-stop this m-minute, I’ll g-get up and r-run away! Stanley, Stanley, Oh, God, you’ve pulled off my suit entirely! I’m naked, naked!”
With a gasping wail, Marion’s voice trailed off into a series of panting sighs. But her backward-thrust hands battled to pry from her rear mounds the male face and the tongue which was just now engaged in an activity upon a rosy and crinkled nook between them.
“I vow, Maro,” he said thickly, as he raised his head a mere inch, “if you keep on struggling I shall promptly roll you over and you know what I shall see then!”
“No, no-for the sake of heaven-no!” stammered the beleaguered girl. “But, Stanley, I think you’ve gone crazy to kiss and lick me in such a place!”
“There’s no restriction on my kisses, remember that, sweetness,” came his muffled reply. “And, since the little lady needs an initiation into what kisses can really do to one, she shall have a very complete one.”
With one final penetrating lick at the enticing and tiny aperture he raised his head. “Don’t you venture to move or to squeal as I continue my lesson,” he said huskily. “There may a dozen pairs of spooners all about us, although not near enough to spy upon us. But remember that I shall roll you right over if you scream!”
He bent forward over the quivering body of the sighing, thrilled Marion, who was shivering, he knew, from what had already happened. He slowly parted the lovely thighs which she had clapped together as soon as the opportunity was afforded her.
His breath was hot upon the flesh of the snowy legs which the moonlight gilded faintly. On the tender skin of the maiden’s back his swollen tool rested and moved as he leaned. She shuddered at the contact. All her exquisite body was trembling.
He kissed the soft thighs. His glowing face glided between them. It pressed upward and inward.
Feeling the heated breath of the man upon the most secret of her charms, and realizing that it was exposed to his eyes and his fingers, too, if he chose, the girl clamped her thighs upon his.
Even yet-even after undergoing that delicious if odious caress in the rear-she had no real conception of what awaited her from this lecherous, beloved brother-in-law of hers.
She caught her breath suddenly and then exhaled it in a tremulous sigh which was a groan of infinite delight and infinite shame. For his lips were feverish in a torrid and prolonged kiss directly upon the delicate rose of the tightly pressed lips, which his eyes had rapturously scanned before he had lowered his mouth.
Kiss after kiss he gave her thus and the girl writhed upon her naked belly amid the sand. And not even the fact that her involuntary movements made that monster which she had touched but never seen press silkenly upon her back and loins could make her refrain from continuing them.
He withdrew his mouth a little but kept his head poised near the already gently pouting little crevice while his hands prevented the convulsive motion with which the nervous thighs would have drawn together. He inspected anew the delicious nook. His breath was hot upon it.
His face slowly pressed lower. His tongue protruded. And Marion, shaking as if in an ague, groaned dully as she felt that moist, ineffable touch upon her sex.
From the instant that the licking tongue was drawn along the wee furrow, Marion’s power even to desire immunity evaporated into nothing. She panted, moaned, gasped, and trembled violently in the tornado of bliss which swept her whole being. She tried to raise her plump bottom to give him even greater access. In this he allowed her to succeed. Now his eyes, gleaming with his own intimate pleasure, could detect, while his tongue feasted, the silken shrubbery of the genital mound beneath the somewhat raised body.
Soft tendrils tickled his forehead, his lips, his nose. From the girl’s lovely body arose the faint and delicate aroma of a healthy and excited young sex.
For minutes-minutes of maddening and increasing and tantalizing rapture for Marion and of sheer delight in his ministry on the part of the man-he continued his licking of the pouting groove, a licking which became more and more fervent and bliss-dispensing.
And now the panting maiden was frankly rubbing her raised loins against his turgid member, even seeking it out, if its pressure was lightened, in order that she might roll it against her flesh.
Marion cried out in ecstasy and was stricken immobile for an instant as she felt the borders of her silt parted very gently and the tip of his tongue intrude between them. Almost sharply she repeated the little cry as she sensed the dwelling of the tongue’s tip after a moment’s exploration upon a point which throbbingly, ecstatically made it welcome.
And suddenly she was in violent motion beneath him, not trying in the least to escape this delicious fate, but too wild with frantic bliss to remain still. He compressed her into immobility but the jangling, crying nerves continued to writhe in all her person.
It seemed to Marion that she had never before conceived of a heaven such as this into which she was so amazingly introduced. All her body swam in sheer ecstasy. Suddenly she cried out sharply, trembling from head to toes, her buttocks heaving spasmodically, each heave accompanied by a groan that was almost a shriek when she deluged the working tongue of the man.
“And was that a kiss too, Stanley?” queried a weak and shaky little voice two or three minutes later, minutes in which Marion remained mute and prostrate, slowly recovering from the shock of a rapture greater than any which her mind could have conceived.
“It was a kiss-with variations, Maro,” he said with grave elation. “It was the kiss, in fact-“
The girl drew a long, tremulous breath. Her naked and shapely body wriggled in the soft sand which still gave back to the heat of her frame the accumulated and stored warmth of the day’s sun. “Then kisses must include pretty nearly everything a man and a woman can do together,” she concluded. “For I had the feeling that I was absolutely giving myself to you-and was carried right into heaven! How wicked I’ve been, for a girl has no right to be happy like that with a man unless she’s married to him, has she? Am I what they called ruined, disgraced?”
She turned her head to where he sat on the sand by her side. Her great eyes were shining yet still suffused with languor. And she speedily averted them again, with color returning to her passion-paled face, as she saw his great, well built body as naked as the dawn in the moonlight. “You are still the immaculate virgin, Maro,” he assured her.
He took her nearer hand as she continued to sprawl upon her face.
“Surely you have not been reared in such ignorance that you do not know how a girl ceases to be a virgin and becomes a wife, or a lover?” he said gently.
“No-I-my last governess explained certain things,” she murmured, flushing more deeply. “I realize that you haven’t really-taken me. Yet, what you did to me-oh, Stanley-must be far more wonderful than such a horrid action as she outlined to me. And I don’t see why husband and wife should bother about such a low way of mating as that when such a perfectly marvelous delight as you have shown me can be had instead. Especially,” she added naively and nervously, “especially when that other thing hurts a girl awfully, doesn’t it?”
He drew her soft hand to his person. He placed it upon his abdomen, where it remained unsuspiciously, exhibiting grateful affection as well as admiration for this fine male body by sundry smoothings and pattings of the fine skin and the hard flesh.
He knew that not even in her brief glance at him an instant earlier had she caught sight of the instruments upon which her satin back had so lasciviously rubbed when she was in the throes of passion. And truly its formidable stature and proportions were calculated to strike terror to the heart of any maiden, especially if she sought to compare its bulk with so delicate and small an orifice as that which had just undergone his inflaming caresses.
Patting the back of the soft hand which was now engaged in tenderly smoothing his belly and vainly trying to nip the hard flesh of its muscular substance, he slowly forced it downward toward his crotch. Hardly aware of the movement towards his secrecies, Marion suddenly found her fingers upon crisp, thick hair.
She gasped and made a feeble effort to withdraw her imprisoned hand.
“No, dear,” he murmured. “You mustn’t be unduly startled or nervous. You are twenty-and how few girls of your age remain in your ignorance of what the consummation of their future marriage really means. And in such ignorance, too, regarding the instrument of that consummation! Have no fear, sweetness, nothing is going to happen to you. Inform yourself-I wish it and so would Mildred-concerning a reality which will be much in your life after I have given my shy sister-in-law away at the altar to some wealthy beggar who is totally unworthy of her.”
The girl’s blood was drumming in her temples. Ever since she had first seen this pillar distending his scant garment-ever since she had felt it bearing upon her in their first embraces, ever since she had so unwarily touched for an instant its smooth tip beneath his trunks, and especially ever since she had borne its rampant nakedness upon her back and had been moved to caress it hotly with her skin, a longing akin to an obsession had smoldered within her being, a longing to touch this majestic affair again and more prolongedly, a longing to acquaint herself with it.
She smothered a shamed, excited feeling as she surrendered her other arm and hand to such intimate exploration as he seemed to wish to enforce upon her fingers. The fingers which he laid upon the base of the thicket from which sprouted the oak of his virility were warm and trembling in his clasp. He coiled them about the root of the shaft, which they could not encompass wholly. Her immense agitation-the rush of color to the one soft, oval cheek which he could see-delighted him.
“No, no-no, Stanley-don’t make me-please-I can’t stand it!” she panted softly.
“Nonsense, lassie, you have a right to know how a man is constructed,” he whispered. “It’s nothing to get so upset about.”
Patting her white behind with one hand, he took the tips of her fingers with his other hand. He caused her thus to investigate his dangling testicles, all the hairy realm of his sex. And then he led her hand again to the scepter which so dismayed and enticed her.
With unruffled, irregular breathing, with face still gagged and masked by her arm, Marion now become excitedly enterprising on her own behalf. With soft fingertips she took cognizance of this marvelous plant upwards from its roots.
“Oh-o-o-o-oh-it’s impossible-one couldn’t stand it!” she said in a smothered whisper as she touched the swollen sex timidly just beneath its great knob. “And it’s even bigger up here! Did you really do that to Mildred? I should think it would have killed her! Did she have to go to bed for weeks and weeks, and have doctors after the first time?”
“She went to bed pretty frequently-not always in the night time either-but not because of damage done by this prick or because of any aversion to its function.” he said with a smile. “Pr-rick?” stammered Marion wonderingly.
And then her visible cheek turned scarlet. “What a horrid, horrid word. I remember now-I heard a wretched girl say it and then, when she saw I didn’t understand, she insisted on explaining it to me. But a nicer name is-well-manhood-isn’t it?”
“As you like,” he conceded with a chuckle. “But you’ll be calling such an article ‘ducky darling’ and ‘mother’s pet’ and even far less decorous words after you are wedded.”
“I certainly will not!” she maintained stoutly, and he took note that one eye was now half-visible through long lashes that fluttered, as the fair head turned ever so slightly and almost involuntarily toward him. “Because,” she went on dreamily as she fingered with a sort of tender consternation the smooth knob, thereby causing him sensations which she was unaware of but which gave him much ado in the matter of restraining an outburst of lechery which would have dismayed her, “because I’m never going to marry-so there! If you think I’m going to submit myself to such torment as an object like this could inflict, you are very much mistaken, Stanley Cochrane! And I certainly cannot understand how Mildred-why, she must be abnormal-or else I am-in construction, I mean.”
He laughed and called her “baby,” which, with the caresses of her body with both his hands now, she accepted without resentment, too absorbed as she was in her digital exploits to find more than increased pleasure in his endearments and his touches on her naked person.
“Mildred is built about like you, and I speak with some authority since I’ve seen you both quite intimately,” he went on. “I tell you, Maro, that if you two lay side by side, with everything veiled except your rosy-lipped little cunts, it would be pretty hard to decide which was which, in spite of the warm hospitality which your lovely sister has so often afforded me.”
“Oh-oh!” protested Marion in a strangled voice. “How can you use such vulgar words, Stanley, and how can you remind me of the disgraceful way in which you have viewed my body!”
But her eyes were bright as it flashed upon her suddenly what she held in her lithe, caressing fingers. The lashes drooped once more as she noted that he was observing her act, and the flush deepened on her cheek and brow and temple.
“If you are still incredulous,” he murmured, “I have no doubt that Mildred would willingly let you see how commodiously and rapturously she houses this standard.”
“Oh, how perfectly unspeakable!” said the startled Marion. “Why, I should never dare to look and I’m sure that she would be revolted to the soul to permit it!”
She had raised her lovely, flaming face as she spoke and, when she would have sunk it again into her arm, he caught her tenderly beneath the chin. “For five minutes, Maro,” he murmured, “you have been wanting and trying to look boldly upon my body. Let’s have no more of that bashful fear of making your quite natural interest manifest.”
“I-I didn’t want to be-any more brazen than I was already being-“ she faltered.
Her lids drooped over startled eyes which had just caught full sight of the great column of flesh to which her fingers still clung. The white lids arose partway and the girl peered through her lashes. And suddenly the gray eyes were wide and entranced upon the masculinity of the man.
“Oh-oh, my heavens!” cried Marion wildly. “How huge, how white and rosy! Are they all this way, Stanley? If so, you can be quite certain I shall never marry! Not even my fingers made me realize how tremendous it is!”
Writhing in eager convolutions she revealed her round breasts-once again, the nipples rosey because of being ground into the soft sand. The maiden strove to get her other hand upon the fascinating monster. Yet she wailed in a new shame as he facilitated her purpose by overturning her.
“Stanley, Stanley, I’m quite naked!” Oh, don’t look at me. Let me lie on my face again!” she gasped.
“You lie quite still-until your old brother can see fully what an adorable sister his Mildred has brought to him,” he commanded. “If it comes to that, there is such a thing as reciprocity and I’m peeled down to my real self too. Lie quite flat, little darling-stop shivering-and let me see this beard of dark gold, blessed little grove of silk. Part your legs, sweetness-yes, I know I’ve seen already but not exactly like this, not all your glorious nakedness at once.”
In an infinity of shame and in a gentle fever of growing pleasure too, Marion made him the complete sacrifice of her modesty which he demanded. Hands cast to either side and fingers curled into wee fists, she submitted to his ecstatic examination.
Not even when, breathing excitedly, he allowed his hands as well as his eyes every liberty of access and petted and kissed her from head to little bare toes did she stage any revolt now. She screwed her eyes tightly shut at first and her exquisite bust rose and fell with her agitated breathing. But, as he pursued his luxurious examination and made nudity the pasture of his warm lips and his ardent fingers, her eyes opened. With a shy delight she observed the admiration and pleasure to which her nakedness had given birth. With a wilder delight she watched fascinatedly the increased turbulence of his swaying member, its almost purple and shining knob, its almost palpitation, as he knelt to lean above her.
And now a small hand stole forth to resume a lascivious and, this time, uninvited possession of the strutting and superb virility. Kneeling upward, he allowed her to clutch with both hands once more his sexual regions. He noted the fitful breathing of the shaken girl, her gasping sighs and the light convulsions which ever and again shook her white body. He felt his own passions again reach the danger point. Quickly he rose to his feet and caught her up likewise.
“Well, sweet little Eve” he said, smiling at her and supporting her beneath the arms as she swayed.
“Oh, it’s paradise-it’s Eden!” she whispered huskily as she clung to him. “But, Adam, it’s forbidden fruit. I cannot deceive myself on that point no matter what sweet, consoling things you say. Imagine being naked, stark naked, with a naked man and doing all these wicked, marvelous things! And you the husband of my own sister which makes it all the worse really because it seems like a disloyalty on the part of both of us.”
“You’re better informed, better prepared to cope with life and sex and what they bring than you were two hours ago, aren’t you, dear?” he asked gently as he saw that those gray legions of conscience and purity were again active within her. “And, as for disloyalty, I assure you that if your sweet sister were to come upon us now she would smile delightedly and probably insist upon giving you at once the spectacle of those further pleasures which you know only by vague report.”
If Marion-who knew that her sister enjoyed seeing her hug and kiss most informally with Stanley and sit in his lap and spoon quasi-fraternally-needed evidence of the extent to which Mildred was willing to go in establishing the intimacy of all the household and in making the newcomer feel “at home,” she had such evidence afforded almost cruelly on the morning following the episodes just narrated.
After donning their bathing suits and beach robes, Marion had returned to the bungalow with her brother-in-law. Hand in hand and almost in silence they walked. And, as they entered Mildred looked up with a rosy smile from her magazine. “Two old spoonies!” she commented affectionately as she kissed each of them. “Did they have a nice naughty time, then, and are they all hot and bothered?”
Marion, confused and blushing, shrank a little under her sister’s meaningful smiles and tender kiss. Her lips worked nervously as she returned the caress and Stanley, observing her closely while he smiled significantly at his wife, had the notion that the maiden was struggling between nervous tears and an impulse to blurt out to Mildred the burden of her conscience, which grew the greater in face of the tender greeting.
Mildred noted her state too and she was not without observing that there was still a considerable protrusion in the fore parts of her spouse’s scant garb. She smiled at Stanley rosily and shook a finger at him silently. Then she hurried to stay the outbursts which she sensed as bubbling to the lovely lips of Marion.
“Kiss big brother goodnight and thank him for a sweet petting,” she directed. “Tell him how happy it made you, and I’ll tell him-and show him-later how happy it makes me to have my two dearest ones very, very fond of each other. Good Lord, Marion, is that the best you can do by way of a goodnight embrace with our Stanley? Here, let me show you how it’s done, and watch closely for your fiance-to-be will expect to be treated like this.”
“Maro was pretty nice about it out there on the dunes,” said Stanley mischievously. “She brought what seemed like a genuine enthusiasm to bear.”
Her beautiful face suffused, Marion gave him a glance midway between reproach and consternation. “We-we did-the most naughty things, Mildred,” she began.
“Naughty-but very nice, I have no doubt,” said her sister hurriedly, much preferring to get the details from the lips of Stanley later on and foreseeing, too, a scene of tears and despair if the over-conscientious Marion were permitted to get underway. “Now-this is the way to hug your big, new brother, to make him enjoy it as he should,” she added.
In the strong arms of her husband, she clung to him with a very genuine heat. Their arms about each other in an embrace which grew more and more convulsive, they kissed fervently and warmly. Their bodies ground together. With the motions which an expert “hostess” in a dancing-den employs to “work up” the passions and the sex of her partner, Mildred ground her belly against Stanley’s and then parted her kimono-covered thighs to the intrusion of his knee.
Sinking into a chair weakly, Marion watched the pair. She was turning rosy again as she noted each episode in the “example” set by her sister. Since Stanley had dropped his beach robe, and since Mildred was so scantily clad, too, that bare calves and even white thighs gleaned from the silken folds of the rich kimono of brown as she swayed amorously with the man, the scene could hardly rate as seemly even when construed as the connubial caress of a fond pair.
Mildred’s face-since she just reached to her husband’s broad shoulders when facing him thus-was upturned to such a yoking of their lips as affected not only the participants but the spectator with little thrills. And, as their lips slowly parted for an inch or two, Mildred allowed her pink tongue to become visible.
Delicately, warmly, lasciviously, she licked the mouth of the man. Her darting tongue worked. its way between the lips, which he mischievously kept lightly compressed, and then the twining, licking tongues appeared to Marion’s view.
“Ah, old pet,” said Stanley, “that is a wake-up potion rather than a go-to-sleep caress. But I’m grieved to have to tell you that you are not taking possession of a virgin mouth and tongue. For this precious Marion turns out to be not only a bird at this tongue kiss but so unscrupulous that she has already deflowered my innocent self in this respect.”
“I did not!” wailed his sister-in-law ashamedly. “At least-I only did what I was told to do.”
“Why, you wicked young devil!” said the delighted Mildred. “Show me this minute how you have perverted this poor chaste man. Or, rather, come here and help me subdue him. We will kiss him together and we’ll kiss him so that he will stay kissed.”
She had to tug the backward-hanging Marion to the spot where stood the smiling Stanley. And she had to coo encouragement to the younger girl and set her the warmest of examples for a moment.
And then the man knew the rather extraordinary experience of yielding his lips and mouth and tongue to four soft and lovely lips, to two rosy mouths and to two pink and gliding tongues, while four naked and comely arms embraced his neck.
On tiptoe, both girls clung to him swayingly, softly rubbing their bodies against his on either side. With bent head and protruding tongue, Stanley enjoyed the play of two warm tongues upon his own. His reciprocated, his tongue darting from one mouth to the other.
At times all three tongues were in conjunction, the two girls crowding their flushed little faces against his and letting their tongues play impartially upon whatever they could reach.
Three disorderly and panting breathings were all that was audible in the broad hall which served as living room. But suddenly Mildred caught sight of an object which inspired her to one of her sensually jocose banterings.
“Shame on you, Stanley Cochrane!” she said. “Just a wee bit of a community kiss and you are right up in the air! Have the goodness to remain halfway decent with us two innocents, will you?”
And with her person-but in a way which called the attention of the blushing Marion to the strutting object which seemed trying to tear its way out of the narrow confines of the man’s bathing trunks-Mildred gave a certain concealment to the inordinate erection, which her husband could not in any wise control under the circumstances.
She rolled upon it lusciously as a preliminary to making a more regal use of it upstairs later on. And the shrinking Marion, who had turned as if to flee yet could not restrain from looking over her bare shoulder, saw her sister advance a naked leg from her fluttering kimono, revealing in the process that simply a brief chemise clad her under the negligee and rub that libidinous prominence with her snowy thigh.
And now Marion did indeed flee as she saw Mildred’s hand shamelessly seek out the thinly covered sex of her spouse. Certainly the younger girl had been betrayed-by her senses as well as by wily masculine persuasions-into stupefying concessions for a virgin so recently pure of mind. Her fondness for Stanley was very great, even though she persuaded herself that it was that of a sister for her brother rather than that of a warmblooded girl for her initiator into intense carnal delights. And she was conscious of a little tug at her heart strings and her nerves as she saw Mildred act thus with the man in her presence.
She fled in shame as well as with a queer, somber regret. And she heard the low, silvery laugh of her sister follow her, a laugh which was not mocking at all, but rather excitedly sensual and pleased.
It was perhaps in consequence of this home-coming scene, as well as of confidences from Stanley in their own chamber, that the fair mistress of the house was moved to a mischievously lecherous action on the following morning which drove Marion almost wild.
Oversleeping a little, because her tense nerves had not let her fall into slumber at once, the younger sister was awakened by low voices and by laughter. Rubbing her half-opened eyes, she saw Stanley propelled into her chamber by the shove of a feminine arm and hand. He was in his pajamas and was grinning a trifle ruefully.
“Get the lazy thing up, Stanley,” commanded Mildred, appearing now herself in the doorway, in nightgown and negligee. “She knows we’ve dispensed with servants up here, and who is going to toast the bread while I broil the chops? She’d let us starve, the young hussy! Get her out of that in a hurry!”
“Heavens, I dare not!” remarked the man smilingly. “Virgins are very dangerous to the hunter when found in bed like this. And this one looks so startled and so frightened and rosy.”
“Pay no attention. It’s only her wily way of begging off and getting a chance to go to sleep again,” observed his wife. “Snatch her out. I’ve got her bath turned on and we’ll have her ready for the bright day in no time at all. Oh, how the little rascal struggles and kicks! She almost got away from you that time. See her squirm! Marion, my love, you are showing your pretty person in a most suggestive manner. Come in, boys, I want you to see how our lovely Marion gets up.”
The squealing, writhing Marion was struck dumb and cold with horror as her mischievous sister pretended to call thus over her shoulder to imaginary males in the hallway. For she knew enough of the extraordinary informality prevailing in this colony of unhampered young aristocrats, and enough, too, of her sister’s caprices, to think it quite possible that a man or two had dropped in for breakfast and that masculine heads might appear at any instant over the bare, white shoulders of Mildred.
“Don’t you dare, Mildred, Stanley!” she cried wildly. “Go away, everybody-everybody-or I’ll never speak to any of you again!”
She tugged forcibly downward the thin nightgown which had flown up as she had wrestled with Stanley and which had become so disordered that not only small bare feet and round calves, but lovely thighs had made their appearance. But the smiles of her aggressors slowly established in her mind the fact that the suggested presence of visitors was just a hoax.
“Oh!” she gasped. “How mean, Mildred! Call off this brute and I’ll promise to get up as soon as you are gone. What a perfectly horrid joke to play!”
“I think this bold and disrespectful child needs a lesson in courtesy towards her parents,” said Mildred severely. “Just stick her legs over that windowsill, Stanley, with her nighty well up and her feet outside, where the Crandalls and the Hamiltons can see clearly from their bungalows and I’ll dress her down a little with this carpet-beater for a minute.”
“Oh, heavens!” shrieked Marion, convinced that even this degradation might happen to her in this stupefying place. If you do that I’ll die! Don’t-for God’s sake, don’t! I’ll get up-really I will. But make Stanley let go of me, Mildred, and both of you go away.”
“Indeed, miss, and since when have the heads of the household-gray and doddering old heads-been receiving instruction from a petulant junior?” inquired Mildred with mock gravity. “Slip off her nighty, Stan, and bring her into her bathroom. And if we have any more struggles, Miss Beauty, I swear we’ll hang you out of that window without a stitch on and give the neighbors a real treat!”
Poor Marion gasped-and crumpled into submission. Her grinning brother-in-law peeled the frail nightgown over her head and carted his lovely, naked burden into the bathroom with his wife preceding them.
Together they soused and bathed her, and they knew how to render the process so confusingly pleasant to her quivering nerves and flesh that at last the maiden struggled not at all. Even her stifled little moans of shame over this extraordinary ministry died away into sighs, but her long lashes dropped over suffused eyes and her sweet face was one glow of rose.
When it came to the drying process, the indulgent Mildred left the most intimate regions to the care of her well-pleased spouse. And the panting Marion, held by her sister in order to prevent her drooping body from tumbling to the bathmat on which she stood, knew once again delicious sensations from insidious male fingers which manipulated the warm towels.
To the shamed Marion the presence of her sister added a new touch of tremendous embarrassment in this ordeal, and so she failed perhaps to observe what Stanley clearly and surprisedly noted: the intense and growing interest of his wife in his intimate touches of her sister’s person and in the latter’s shaking reactions to those touches.
Mildred perched Marion on the edge of the tub in a sitting posture. “Open you legs, darling,” she breathed. “Farther than that. How did you think Big Brother can get at you when you keep clamping them together? And little girls must be dried nicely in there. Cute little pussy, quite a lot darker than mine, isn’t it, Stanley, darling? How sweet-tiny pink slit! Little shivering pet! Listen, Stan, get away for a moment. I don’t think you’re drying her nicely at all. The towel is no good for the little nooks. This is the way-like this, see!”
“Good heavens, Mildred-no-no, oh, no!” wailed the shamed Marion thickly.
She was trembling from head to toe and the amazed Stanley, startled by his wife’s flushed agitation and by the total disappearance of her mirthful mood, held the maiden in position while Mildred dried her sister’s privacies with bare and very solicitous fingers instead of with a towel.
It was a new light for the man upon the touches of soft perversity which may swarm up from the depths of any warmly sensual nature such as was that of his lovely young wife. For the instant, as he could not fail to recognize, the interest of Mildred in her sister’s perfect little body was far more than sisterly. And the shuddering Marion, her eyes screwed tightly shut, succumbed to his powerful restraining arms and to the most delicate of indelicate touches between her nude thighs.
Toying libidinously, although still pretexting the necessity of fully drying these secret realms, with the rosy borders of the already pouting sex of her sister, Mildred glanced up at Stanley with glazed and languorous eyes, which seemed to call his attention to the beauty of the full exposed region. Her lips curled in a sensual smile as she let a daring finger bore between the tender portals.
“No-n-no-my God, Mildred-how can you-oh-o-o-oh-how shameless!” stammered Marion, almost in convulsions as she felt her sister’s brazen finger touch her stiff clitoris.
“Hold her tightly, Stanley,” murmured the older girl. “How you do shake, Marion, darling! A person would think you had never been properly dried before. Quite still, precious, and let big sister attend to your toilet. Heavens, how passionate you are, little one, and how ashamed to let brother and sister notice it!”
But a warning touch of her husband’s hand upon her bare arm caused her to note the stiffening of Marion’s body and the strangled sighs, which revealed that the girl was upon the verge of finding this tickling and tapping of her clitoris too much for endurance.
“Ah well, dear,” sighed Mildred arising, “now I guess you can attend to yourself, Marion. But just slip on your nighty and kimono like me-and hurry down to help up get breakfast.”
It was some little time after they had gathered in the breakfast porch before the still-flushed Marion could meet the eyes of either Mildred or Stanley. She was almost prostrate with shame over what had occurred-and that her own sister should have ventured to touch her thus appeared to her candid nature a most frightful thing.
Her two hosts exchanged glances of silent and smiling complicity over her bowed head, for Stanley, far from being distressed or repelled by this new light on the nature and depths of the sensuality of his cherished spouse, found himself pleasantly thrilled by the spectacle she had offered him at her sister’s expense.
And Marion, silent at first, was soon made more comfortable by the jollity which always reigned at their table. She joined shyly in the conversation presently and she did not resent it when the chatter began to harbor the suggestive bits with which Mildred, more even than Stanley, was prone to enliven it.
The younger girl was able even to smile amid her blushes when Stanley referred to that “drying” episode. “I never have such care as that from her-at least, not in my bath,” he said lugubriously. “I feel slighted and wish you would show a little more solicitude in looking after your neglected husband, Mildred.”
“Horrid thing!” smiled his wife. “If you were as cute and darling down there as Marion is you might expect to have some attention paid you. But you are not cute. No, I should say on reflection that ‘cute’ is not the right word at all to apply to you in that spot! Nevertheless, I know you had your bath for I saw you in it but if you fear that you were not thoroughly dried-well, it is not too late.”
And Marion turned aside with a deeper flush as she saw her sister bend to intrude an audacious hand within Stanley’s pajama trousers. “There,” observed Mildred, “I knew you were well dried-but, oh, how big and arrogant you get the minute anybody lays a finger on you!”
With this exclamation to his concealed member she withdrew her hand. She smiled at her sister and she shook a reproving finger at her spouse. “Try to be decent when you are breakfasting with ladies, won’t you?” she adjured.
But the contagion was in the air. And even Marion found herself succumbing to it. Rather to the surprise of the two other, she did not seek to evade the arm with which he caught her to his chair as the girls arose to attend to the clearing-away duties which were one of the prices they paid for preferring that servants should not encumber this summer colony.
In his other arm was Mildred playfully and tenderly slapping his face in response to the soft violence with which she had been captured.
About the thinly veiled thighs of each girl a hand was cast, and, looking upward at their charm and beauty of form and feature, Stanley felt like the most fortunate of pashas. “Marion is rather the plumper,” he said. “I think her legs, her thighs are fuller than yours.”
“Now don’t you go to thinking you picked the wrong sister to marry,” pouted his wife. “She may be just the least trifle more filled out, and she’s got a flock of dimples here and there that I lack, but I’ll wager that my legs are every bit as large. And she breathed mischievously: “See if I’m not right-“
Already the slender bare ankles of each had drawn his eyes and the warmth and fragrance and softness of the bodies which his arms pressed, had thrilled him. Marion started and exclaimed as his hands dropped to those nude ankles on his either side. “Don’t be fussy over a little measurement, Marion,” breathed Mildred.
The younger girl yielded again. She clung quiveringly to the back of his chair as a hand slipped beneath her nightgown. Not even all that she had already undergone by way of making her “a modern girl” had sufficed to inure her to this liberty.
And so Stanley had the joy of feeling two pairs of lovely naked legs at once. Since Marion was swept by the current of her sister’s example as well as by her own shamed enjoyment, he met with no obstacles whatever.
Beneath the nightdresses his hands roamed with entire impunity. The excuse of a “measurement” forgotten, he let his fingers slip from the smooth, warm legs upward, and still upward.
To both lovely bottoms his hands wandered presently, and his fingers feasted lingeringly. Over his bowed head the two girls stared into each other’s eyes.
“He-he does-oh-the most awful things so adorably-doesn’t he, darling?” quavered Mildred, as Stanley let his fingers slip from the smooth, warm legs upward to their groves tentatively.
“Yes-oh-o-o-o-o-h, Mildred-y-yes!” agreed Marion tremulously.
Even to the soft breasts, those brazen, licentious hands went in appraisal of the shapely bodies. And when the hands descended once more, when they pried gently between two pairs of thighs, which slowly opened to admit them, the young wife was almost as much stirred and agitated as the maiden who faced her.
The buxom, vivacious brunette, Mrs. Edith Hamilton, was a neighbor of the Cochranes in this summer colony to the north of the Windy City. She had been a year earlier Edith Allison, one of the most delightful of Chicago’s debutantes of the season and certainly the wealthiest in her own right. For she and her brother, Herbert three years her senior, had already come into the vast estate of their late parents.
Edith herself had speedily succumbed to the sincere and powerful and quite disinterested addresses of Henry Hamilton-disinterested because Hamilton himself was a young man of more than considerable means. Rollicking and carefree, this youthful married pair were among the most ardent of the unconventional gambollers of the Michigan Dunes, as the colony had been dubbed by its builders and residents.
Herbert Allison owned a choice bungalow adjacent to that of his sister and her spouse. He had never thus far occupied it in the two years of community life here. But Edith was now gleefully announcing his approaching arrival from African and Asiatic wilds where he had been recently engaged in hunting, and of a genuine variety instead of prepared trips with scores of beaters and all the paraphernalia which young men of wealth are prone to surround themselves with on such expeditions.
Herbert arrived, and he proved to be-or seemed to be-almost as much out of the picture as had the shy Marion upon her arrival. He was very quiet, reticent about his adventures, visibly glad to find this one spot in America where not even his wealth would cast about him such a glamor as to make him something of a besieged public character and the target of aspiring matrons with marriageable daughters of greater or lesser charm.
Herbert Allison was dark of hair and eyes, like his sister, but a lithe and sinewy figure, instead of the somewhat buxom Edith. He was bronzed, taciturn, yet at the same time very pleasant in demeanor.
“Altogether a perfect dear. What a ‘rave’ for the girls, if only he weren’t so very retiring and bashful,” was the tenor of feminine comments to Edith concerning him. “Twenty-four now, did you say, and not hooked yet? Surprising that he has been allowed to escape unfettered. Yet I suppose his long trips have given the maidens little chance at him. Yet, some way, dear, he impresses one as so shy that he might well be regarded as indifferent to girls.”
In response to such comments upon her beloved brother, Edith Hamilton raised charming eyebrows with a wee smile which concealed silent dissent to some of the conclusions drawn concerning the tanned and sinewy youth who was her brother.
But not even the reputation of serene quiet and reserve with which Herbert was stamped by those given to first impressions could invalidate the fact that he proved speedily to be no wet blanket on the very informal minglings and frolics to which the colony was prone. If by no means boisterous in his ways, if inclined to be rather the smiling observer than the participant in fun which often arose to extreme pitches, he was quickly acquitted of disapproval of frivolity or of any desire to stem the tide of pleasure by frowns or withdrawal.
Strangely, or naturally-whichever it may seem-he and the beautiful Californian, Marion Stone, appeared drawn together. If the shyness of the boy was just a pleasant veneer over a nature which could, as some few in this world could have testified, become the reverse of retiring on occasions, the delicate sensibilities of the girl were, as we know, inbred. But by this time the maneuvers of Mildred and Stanley had accomplished the purpose of “launching” Marion. Even if the lovely Miss Stone could not bring herself to do in Michigan Dunes as the Michigan Dunians did in all respects, still she was one of them-and a very popular one.
It is probable that the very fact that she still manifested, despite the efforts of Mildred and Stanley to “toughen” her to the life of this lively set, a certain bashful reserve and modesty, played its part in making even the wildest of the colony member fond of her. She still represented, in their gatherings, the old-fashioned, demure point of view to an extent, and her blushes and widened eyes when she saw one or more of the young women calmly strip down their tenuous bathing suits to the navel, or lower in mixed company, for the purpose of allowing the sun’s rays to drench their pretty bodies, brought about a certain tenderly amused affection for her among even the most cynical of these young persons of wealth and standing. There was a certain piquancy in finding in their midst a youthful beauty who was capable of being shocked.
From the very outset of Herbert Allison’s entrance into the colony, it became evident to the most astute of observers that the reserved and quiet globe-trotter felt drawn to this maiden. Compared with most of her new friends, she was somewhat green and gauche in the frivolous frolics and often cynical chatter which these more sophisticated young people freely allowed themselves. Her little alarms, her quick flushes, her sudden silences while she strove for composure, her palpable efforts to be nothing of the wet blanket or the living reproof amid words and acts which often caused her great consternation, these things, coupled with her loveliness and grace, frequently drew the dark, pleasant gaze of the only person who was even quieter than she in all that little community.
He had a way of smiling at Marion without even looking at her, a faculty which his keen-eyed sister had no difficulty in noting, knowing him as she did. For, intercepting one of those rare and hardly noticeable smiles, headed apparently towards the horizon, on her brother’s otherwise imperturbable features, Edith found speedily that, even though Marion was looking anywhere save at Herbert, a faint flush and a response to that smile would involuntarily appear upon the face of the girl, as if, without looking at each other, they were conscious of a certain mystic and unacknowledged sympathy interchanged.
With a visible effort, Marion would compose her features then into as near a blank as she could contrive-still without a glance at the boy. Presently she would look about her a trifle sheepishly, as if fearing that the sudden queer thought of this bronzed Herbert which had obsessed her, and her involuntary response to it, might have attracted attention. And, after a bit, there would be casual but wondering glances of inspection between the two young strangers, as if to note whether what the one had felt had had any repercussion with the other.
Had not Edith Hamilton known otherwise, she would have more than suspected that these two, who had barely met, were in reality far from strangers, that already secret meetings and a secret understanding existed between them. No, if there had been a coup de foudre between this pair it had been launched from the clear sky.
Edith was pleased, touched, just a trifle sorrowful also. She had long ago accustomed herself to consider her only brother as immune to romance, even though by no means immune to the sudden flaring of animality in his usually controlled nature. She knew him like a book, and loved him very deeply. She was already immensely fond of Marion, too, but it was hard to visualize Herbert with a wife. And such a thought as matrimony in this instance would never have occurred to her had it not been for the strange, almost unconscious, complicity which seemed to exist between them.
A man who has been accustomed for months on end to sleep through those wonderful African nights in the wilds may find it hard to cast off the habit of awakening, even from profound slumber, at the slightest sound, which might, in those velvet nights, have been the sniff or rustle or light footfall betokening danger abroad in the veldt. The return to civilization extinguishes such alertness only through the lapse of time. In Herbert Allison, now back with those of his blood and his kind for about a week, the alarm clock of sensitive and trained nerves had not yet run wholly down, even in the course of steamship and train travel.
In bed at eleven this particular night, he had sunk into restful sleep with his customary readiness, and had been roused, too, with his customary readiness, an hour or two later. Faculties on the qui vive at once, he was quickly aware that his faithful senses had played him false by arousing him quite unnecessarily. Here he was far from any danger, in a luxurious bed in the summer home of his young and pretty married sister, his own bungalow being not quite ready for his occupancy.
Yet there was something in the air even amid this peaceful silence, something to which his highly keyed nerves responded sensitively, something which stirred and moved and vaguely distressed him.
Ah, a prolonged, vibrating, soft moan arose plaintively. Such a sound had aroused him, doubtless. Sighs and rustlings followed. He suddenly understood.
Why, damn it all, his sister was in there, just beyond that door. His sister, Edith, and, by God, she was playing the part of a woman to man! This kid of-well, she must be twenty-one. But it was heart-rending, at that, to think of her lying in there, perhaps as bare as a young gazelle, and having that done to her, even by good old Harry Hamilton, his friend at college, who, after all, had a hell of a nerve to come and make his dark-eyed sister of the head of the Allisons a naked animal mewling and mewing with lust in the dark!
So that was it, that was what had aroused him-and was now arousing his sex into sharp erection! Well, he had no particular shame over that. It wasn’t the first time that Edith, bless her heart, had been the cause of his flesh tugging at its leashes.
She had been a sensual and very pretty child. Restricted in her intercourse with boys while in her teens, she had had, he believed, a sort of “crush” upon her only brother, an innocently perverse inclination, her young and ardent flesh speaking. And only the admired, reserved older brother was fond of her, but rating her as just an infant at thirteen, fourteen, fifteen.
There had been that affair of the stepladder in Edith’s own chamber, the picture which must be hung just as she wished it and which she couldn’t entrust to either maid or manservant for the purpose.
It had not been impossible for him to appraise the facts later on, even though his head was too much awhirl at the time for clear reasoning. Edith had been moved by a sort of pride in her new maturity of flesh, a piqued desire to let him know that she was no longer just the kid he persisted-playfully if tenderly-in treating her. And she had been moved, in by an instinct far older than even the venerated Allison blood.
She had heard him whistling in his own suite-that was it-and had known that he would presently appear in tennis flannels to rumple her hair and paddle her and laugh at her squealing efforts to resent the indignity and to kiss her before going out to the court.
But the picture held high in her hands as she perched on the step ladder had somehow slipped just as he appeared. Edith had squealed in apparent earnestness this time, and he had darted to grasp the frame on the verge of falling. And it was then, as he was putting the picture securely in her extended hands, when she resented his suggestion that he had better hang it himself if she didn’t want it broken. He held the ladder firmly and gazed upward with a touch of real anxiety, because certain revelations burst upon him.
There was the revelation, first, that not even Nannie Leiter or Doris Palmer or even Perdita Armour had quite such slender ankles and beautifully rounded calves which shimmered whitely now through the meshes of very fragile, tightly drawn stockings of dark silk as had this kid sister of fifteen. There was the revelation, as his fraternal yet pleased eyes wandered upward to the short skirt swinging about the round knees, that not even governess nor mother had been able to prevent Edith from adopting already the new frivolity regarding underwear, calling for little or nothing beneath outer garments, which he knew to have become widespread.
Why-good heavens-the kid was about the same as bare! He’d lecture her-no, he wouldn’t-she was fifteen after all, and how very lovely were those white naked thighs which sloped beautifully upward into semi-obscurity from the tops of the stockings, rolled just above the knees!
His fingers tightened upon the stepladder. His comments upon her toil fell away into silence. He cast a glance at the upraised face. He saw the round cheeks flushed unduly, perhaps because of her exertions.
“You’re certain you have the ladder firmly held, Herbie?” came the flustered query in a rather breathless voice. “Because I find I’ve got to stand on the very top to hang this where I want it.”
His answer was a muttered monosyllable. It was half a gasp, indeed. And he swallowed nervously again and again. For the two splendid, plump thighs were no longer pressed together. A small and very neat foot had been raised to the upper level of the ladder while its mate remained below. And the eighteen-year-old boy was shivering with a sort of shamed and furtive but very ardent delight.
Oh, God, what a beautiful thing was the bare bottom of a young girl! Laces hung about Edith, the laces of an unbuttoned something which he had heard referred to otherwise as a “combination.” But the laces served now only as a delicate frame for a clearly seen pair of mounds of snow and delicate rose, with the most enticing and mysterious and fascinating of intervals between them!
The plump and pleasing girlish backside was the first that Herbert-a reserved youth even then-had ever seen quite nude. It had remained for a mere “kid,” for the young sister who was the only one to know that he had a playful, roguish side, to enchant the stony, motionless flesh, in which a fast-beating heart and vivid, intent eyes were the only sign of life. But that heart and those eyes did not remain the sole fleshly signs of vitality amid his enchantment, for the sex of the eighteen-year-old sprang now into excited tension.
It cannot be doubted that the plump and pretty brunette had continued to pose thus above the eyes of Herbert for purposes related to the transformations that had recently occurred in that adolescent body. If she had managed the willful indecency of leaving her combination unbuttoned between her legs, drooping in all-revealing festoons, it was because she desired-desired licentiously, proudly, naively, almost innocently in a way-to acquaint him silently with evidence that she was no longer a child, to be held in playful, loving lightness and to be laughed at like a child. No, she was a woman now, or becoming one, as much a woman as he was a man-maybe more so. And of the very decorative and now quite thick and dark and gratifying little beard which her lower belly harbored Edith wished him to take entire visual cognizance.
Maybe that would show him that she was not to be asked curiously why he failed to see her dolls about her, perhaps that would reveal that the jocular indignities to which he subjected her in other respects were entirely out of place now. If she looked interestedly from their runabout at some good-looking boy or gazed soulfully at the picture of a handsome actor in a magazine, she wished to hear no more of his ringing laughter. She had a right to show interest in men without being made the object of unseemly mirth, hadn’t she, since she was a young woman?
It was in some such way that Edith had appraised the impulses which led her to a very indecent and a very lovely display of herself. For, although trembling and reddened as she prepared and launched her unseemly little plot-a plot which seemed to her absolute proof against any accusation of evil intent, since she would be “unaware” of her exposure. And although shaking with strange sensations now as she parted her naked thighs deliberately above his upturned eyes, still she did not comprehend the extent to which she was moved in all this by the exhibitionistic impulse which is not uncommon even among maidens of her tender years.
Herbert gasped audibly as he caught sight of the even more secret beauties which the parting of the nude thighs surrendered to his inspection. Inwardly he blessed the thinness of the muslin gown for the welcome light which it admitted. It showed him clearly now not only a dark and triangular patch of curls upon the base of a belly of alabaster but the even more exquisite view of a delicate line of tender rose just below the dainty growth.
Hearing him gasp, Edith flushed the deeper and trembled the more violently. She tried to ask him, in a surprised tone, what was the matter with him but she could only gurgle and choke. She knew now that he could see not only her new fledged beard but also the more shameful but older possession of her frame. She did not mind that in her present mood. Let him see her all, then, see just how his sister was built!
The girl thrilled to her exposure and to his agitation now with a thrill greater than any expected or yet felt from her transgression. It was a thrill which localized itself so clearly that she knew the rosy cleft of her secret person loved to be seen by him thus, since it throbbed with pleasure. Nervously, she contrived to part her legs even more-and, with an upward reach which enabled her to slip the wire of the picture over its waiting hook, she so posed that Herbert could see both fore and aft at once. With the brief and opened undergarment fluttering out from her person, the boy saw her naked body to the small of the back in the rear and to the navel’s indentation in front.
And it was now that Edith had her first lesson in the underlying capacity of her brother to pass from calm to tempest most startlingly, the first of the lessons which later made her bite her pretty lips in a silent, amused denial when her dear brother’s “shyness so great that it renders him indifferent to girls” was mentioned to her by feminine colonists at Michigan Dunes.
For she heard the boy’s teeth grind hard, she heard his breath come hoarsely, as she just managed to hang the picture, but very much awry. Yet it was well that she had transferred its weight from her extended arms just when she did, for the flimsy ladder was shaking under the male hands’ wavering clasp upon it. Already unsteady on her daringly exposed legs, Edith gave a startled cry, then a shriek, and came toppling, sliding down into the upthrust arms of Herbert.
Later-a good while later-she accused him of having deliberately shaken her off her perch. He denied this with some heat, acquitting himself, genuinely enough, of any such deliberate intent. Perhaps he did not realize to what extent the sudden flames which took his senses as he studied the girlish nudities just above his head had induced an involuntary neglect of his role of “ladder-steadier.” In any event, his hands were quickly extended toward the round, silk-clad knees of Edith as she fell, and his wiry arms prevented the fall from being serious.
Her plump legs slipped through his fingers, and the bewildered Edith, catching him about the neck in her instinct to grasp at safety, found that it was naked rump and bare thighs that her brother’s hands sustained now. “Not hurt, are you, Edith?” he whispered hoarsely.
He had her in his arms now, clear of the ladder which had toppled with her, but still his hands held her convulsively by the nakedness which her short skirt shrouded almost entirely now.
“No, no-no, Herbie-oh-let me down-can’t you see how you are holding me! It’s-terrible!” wailed the still-startled miss.
“I think you’re bruised here and there. I think I feel bruises-where you were scraped by the ladder,” he said thickly.
And his one arm, the left one, supported all her weight now. His right hand strayed, strayed to the bare and plump and velvet buttocks. It roamed to the girl’s belly beneath the combination. It drifted to the beard which she had so proudly and with such childish lechery shown him. Its fingers sought an even more intimate sanctuary now, and upon the hand lying between her naked legs Edith squeezed those legs in panting shame, and in a vast and mounting agitation too.
“Herbert, Herbert-Herbie!” she stammered. “Don’t touch me like that!”
“Bruises-and maybe splinters” he went on mutteringly. “I must find out. Perhaps we should have the doctor in to see you”
“Herbie, Herbie-why are you laying me on the carpet? Oh-please-don’t uncover m-me!”
Edith was pleading tremulously in a dying voice and with dazed eyes. She wrestled a little in a nervous panic for an instant. She lay panting, with hands upon her eyes, then gave herself up to the investigations which he wished, for her resistance had merely resulted in making his fingers sink into her soft flesh.
In a silence which the rasping breathing of both youngsters alone disturbed, Herbert stripped his sister’s two garments upward, peeling her from the knees of both gown and unbuttoned combination.
Edith wailed softly as she found herself naked from navel to stockings. Through her fingers she peered at the brick-red, excited face and the glistening dark eyes of her brother. She managed to see her own nakedness in the effort to view it with his eyes; The distinct thrill which shot through her nerves as she saw him scanning her glossy, dusky little genital beard and felt his fingers touch it tremulously was pleasant one to the agitated maiden despite her re-awakened shame.
His breath, as he knelt to lean above her and bent his dark head, was hot upon her belly. “I have to see, Edith-I just have to see!” he was muttering. “Don’t squeeze your legs together that way. There may be bruises on the insides. You must let me see! Oh God, how perfectly darling. I can see a little of the rosy part-spread your thighs!” And he kissed her ardently, eagerly, on the navel pit and on the hirsute, plump mound of her sex.
Overawed by his fierce and uncontrolled excitement-licentiously moved, too, in all her girlhood-Edith gave him his way-all of his way. She allowed her white thighs to be pried apart. She lay, quiet but trembling, under eyes that flamed upon her sexual sanctity and fingers that caressed it.
Every few instants her quavering murmur arose as she tried to pretend an altogether nonexistent reason for her exposure and her yielding. “There are no bruises, are there, Herbie?” she would gasp.
“I can’t be certain yet. Wait, let me make sure,” the boy would answer with equal disingenuousness.
He rolled her over, the memory of that full-flushed bottom prevailing for the moment even over his delight in the mystic cleft of her girlhood. With a little moan of shame, Edith flaccidly allowed him to manipulate her at his will. He stripped her to the armpits in the rear. His hands and his dark eyes were hot upon the mounds which had so fascinated him earlier.
And then, all pretence of anything save boyish passion for these young charms fleeing, Herbert sank tremulous lips to kiss ardently the round, full, silken buttocks and the plump, naked thighs. And Edith, clawing the thick carpet in her sensual excitement, forbade him nothing.
The spell which held them was shattered by the distant sound of a closing door. Instantly the two youngsters were upon their feet, fearing the entrance of the maid, whose duty it was at this hour to clean these rooms. As the intruder delayed, the girl and the boy faced each other, she with eyes downcast and shapely body quivering, he with face as red as hers, but with eyes that seemed to presage another plunge toward her now covered person.
“Go away, Herbie!” Edith panted, as he drew stealthily nearer again. “Somebody is coming-and besides you shouldn’t have done that. You shamed me terribly with your kisses and all! Go away!”
“Not until you forgive me, for I couldn’t help it-you were so very lovely!” he breathed, with arm about her. “And you must tell me that I may see you-see your body again when there is a chance.”
“Never, never!” cried his sister. “There-I’ll kiss you and forgive. But oh, you scared me, you were so wild and savage, I hardly knew you!”
“Oh!” Herbert groaned. “Your little beard is so cute and lovely-and that tiny gash-and your big white bottom! Listen, Edith, I’ll go, but just lift up your clothes for the tiniest second and let me see once more.”
“I will not-indeed I will not!” she whimpered nervously. “It was very bad what you did, and Annabelle may come in any second.”
That this anguished prophecy was on the verge of fulfillment became clear as the maid’s voice, humming a fragment of a song, was heard in the corridor. And the boy reluctantly departed from his sister’s private quarters.
Into the very genuine and deep fraternal affection of the boy and girl there had entered now the carnal and sensual tinge which, despite their failure to recognize the fact, was to affect their relations from then on. In truth, this development served only to flavor deliciously the brotherly and sisterly love which had always been deep. Even a hug and a kiss meant something more to them now, and the new hesitancy with which Edith consented to be drawn to her brother’s lap at times-whereas she had been in the jovial habit of casting herself quite unconcernedly upon his knees to pester him-this, too, was a symptom of the unmentioned but unforgotten tie of their dual misdeed:
To Edith’s relief-a delicately sweet young maid at bottom-Herbert became again the quietly mischievous brother with whom she could frolic delightfully. Twice more, nevertheless, the sensual savage within him showed its face for a spell, turning him into the red-faced aggressor who made her shudder with shame and delight and left with her new memories to haunt her dreams.
On one of these occasions, one morning, she ran to him in the breakfast room for their morning kiss. Since they were more prone to snuggle now than before the episode in Edith’s chamber, he held her with head bent backward, after their lips had met, and he teasingly laid his mouth on the snowy softness of her neck beneath her round chin with a view to making the ticklish girl wriggle and protest.
Edith did not fail to struggle and to laugh nervously, especially as her brother’s tongue saluted her little adam’s apple and was drawn along her sensitive skin. The effect of her writhings was to open her shirt-waist upon her full-fleshed, snowy chest and to enable Herbert to discern dimly something which had been hidden from him when he had her upon the floor of her room: the upper slopes of a maidenly bosom.
Wriggling and laughing hysterically, the girl caught sight of his suddenly inflamed face and his intense glowing gaze. Again that hidden savage in her brother was upon her. She caught her breath. She resisted for an instant as stealthy fingers stole to unclasp a button and to delve within her white waist, upon her smooth, warm chest. And then, as he touched her breasts, the maiden collapsed in a soft mutter against his body.
“What-oh-what-are you d-doing, Herbie?” was her low expostulation. “You mustn’t-you mustn’t-dear Herbie!”
But, within the loose little chemise, each of her firm, round breasts knew the warm clasp of his hand in turn-and the rosy dots which crowned each mound stood stiffly against his palm. “Stop, stop-o-o-o-h-stop, Herbie!” sighed Edith, frightened by the tumult in her blood as well as by the red mask of boyish lechery which her brother’s face had become. “That is wicked, you know-and you weren’t ever going to be wicked with me again. And Father and Mother will be down to breakfast any minute!”
“I will carry you away!” he threatened with that gulping, husky whisper which she had once before heard from his lips. “I will carry you off-and strip you-unless you show me these lovely things right away. Father and Mother can wonder all they like why we aren’t at breakfast!”
“Heavens, Herbie! she moaned. “I think I hear Jenkins coming with the coffee. No-he just went into the pantry. Don’t you frighten me when you are like this! If I do what you wish, will you be good?”
The reddened face above her assented with a nod. “Well, but it’s horrible, you know-and you should be ashamed!” she whispered flutteringly.
Hurriedly she opened two more buttons of her shirtwaist. She pushed the tenuous chemise downward and, with what was tantamount to a lascivious innocence, she placed beneath his sparkling eyes the nakedness of her exquisite, plump bosom.
The boy gasped with rapture. Quickly he fingered and then kissed the lovely mounds. And Edith’s eyes, proud at bottom of her recently developed breasts, were dewy and languishing as he caressed her.
This time, too, they leaped apart as a sudden sound reached their drumming ears. It was a footstep on the stairway leading from the floor above. And when their father entered smiling, with morning paper in his hand, they were decorously seated if still rosy of cheeks.
With a certain grim determination, Herbert seemed to take himself in hand after these two incidents. Now nearly twenty, he knew well what these carnal curiosities about his pretty sister tendered, and he himself somewhat feared the animal which he had found to dwell within him. He could not fail to know that Edith was pleased and excited as well as frightened when, in his sudden delirium, he treated her thus indecently. Yet he owed her, he felt, protection both against himself and her own passionate appreciation of his caresses upon her nudity.
Yet a third occasion of the same nature was to bring the brother and sister very close to an irretrievable transgression. Orphaned when Herbert was nineteen and Edith sixteen-and he entering college soon thereafter, while his sister went into an exclusive girls’ school in Chicago-their chances to be isolated together were, perhaps fortunately, rare for a time.
They were respectively twenty and seventeen when they took a vacation trip westward to visit an uncle and aunt in Colorado. On the train Edith had a slight attack of travel sickness the first evening out, and, from his own adjoining compartment, Herbert ministered to her. Despite his sympathy, he relished sensuously her bed-ridden state, her pallor, the weakness and languor which, since she would not have the porter or maid near her bed, gave him the feeling that here his dark-eyed and pretty sister was more nearly his than ever.
Grateful for his solicitude and care and weakened by her passing illness, Edith seemed devoid of the nervous fears of the reappearance of that inner man dwelling in her brother’s lithe body which had startled her twice before into a sort of panic, even while making her senses glow responsively. Leaning upon her pillows, gazing upon him with wide, dark eyes from a face unwontedly pallid, she was indeed the interesting invalid.
Color grew delicately amid her pallor when he suggested just a bit of an alcohol rub for her shoulders and back as a stimulant to banish her weakness. She consented, nevertheless. She leaned forward upon her pillows with a gentle smile, and, clutching her loose-necked nightgown about her bosom, she allowed him to lower it to the waist at the rear.
A back of white satin, with just the least added charm of a healthy rosy glow of the lovely skin, made Herbert catch his breath and grate his white teeth involuntarily. Hearing the sound, Edith looked up in faint alarm. But his face was placid if touched with added color. He smiled down at her and she smiled, somewhat confusedly, back.
“Don’t think you haven’t got a competent nurse, young invalid,” he said. “For you’ve got quite the best there is anywhere, lucky girl!” Admiring the curving waist so thoroughly displayed to his eyes and relishing all this exquisite flesh, he rubbed her shoulders and back with the fluid. Refreshed already, she said as much, looking up at him in gratitude yet quivering somewhat to the friction of his palm and fingers upon her half-denuded person.
Her resistance was only faint when his hand descended to her loins when he drew the nightgown’s fabric away from her rear with his left hand to let his right hand play beneficently farther down. He could now see even the upper portion of the well-remembered and lusciously admired buttocks and the enticing vale between them.
Presently his rubbing hand was upon those mounds. His sister giggled nervously, ashamed to show any consternation or agitation in the face of his matter-of-fact manner and his friendly smiles when she glanced up at him. “It-it’s good we are brother and sister,” she said faintly. “And, even so, what would people think?”
“The last thing in the world for us to worry about!” he assured her heartily.
And his self-control reassured Edith, convinced her that those childish things of which she still thought frequently and ashamedly were far away and gone forever.
Hence his surprise attack in front not only caught her unawares but met with a feeble and gently flushed resistance. “Chest and stomach, or abdomen-I could hardly say belly to an adult girl of seventeen, I suppose-must have their touch of this alcohol,” he observed. “Don’t get nervous, little filly. Let the old doc get at you.”
“But Herbert, I’m so-so very bare!” she murmured. “It makes me nervous. Can you get at me down in front without my actually lowering my nighty any more?”
“Surest thing, you know, old primrose,” he assented.
Upon the smooth chest he worked, and then, his wrist between the warm breasts of his now palpitating sister, he rubbed the silken belly. And each withdrawal of his hand for the purpose of anointing it with the alcohol, and each gentle descent between the heaving naked mounds, made the lovely brunette quiver softly.
Without impatience-and denying even to himself that he felt another madness approaching from the dungeons of his nature-he allowed Edith to hold the folds of her silk nightgown well about her bosom.
But suddenly the girl trembled. She sighed, and her light pallor was suffused by a rosy glow. “Oh-o-o-o-oh-Herbert-careful-p-please!” came her strangled whisper to his ears.
Smiling determinedly, but with his nostrils quivering, he whispered in return: “Wrong number? Excuse it, please. But the darling little pussy is entitled to its share of soothing.”
“Don’t say such things!” she pleaded faintly.
He withdrew his fingers from the silken fur, where they had been delicately rubbing a plump mound. His hand rose and was withdrawn.
Edith breathed a sigh of relief that the torment was over. Her nerves were singing, and a torpor that was vaguely delicious had invaded her body.
He moistened his palm from the bottle of alcohol. “Just a touch on the lovely titties,” he murmured with a smile which passed very well for gay nonchalance.
“Oh-what words you find for-for me-for my body!” she expostulated faintly.
But since there seemed to be so complete a self-control on the part of her once-dangerous brother, she tremblingly allowed him to raise the fabric from her full and very lovely bosom. He gazed in delight, setting his teeth in a still successful attempt to maintain outward composure. “I think you are more wonderful than ever, sweet young sister,” he said. “And who has a better right to know that than I?”
He rubbed her breasts gently. The swoon-like fever of mingled pleasure and shame, in which Edith lay drooping and with closed eyes, was shot now with delicious thrills. She sighed softly, amorously. She thanked fortune that, with years, the animal which had lurked in her brother seemed tamed to a sort of gentleness, that she could trust him now to treat her thus without dreading madness on his part.
He put away the bottle, and fanned the flushed girl as she lay there, still breathing hard. He even jested softly about the vanishing of her pallor. She recovered slowly under his persiflage. She became able to banter back at him, to deny smilingily that she had been as much moved by “a mere rubbing-down” as he pretended to think.
A greater daring and a greater familiarity grew between them. Edith did not resent even his presumption in assuming-quite correctly, as it turned out-to know what maidens of her age harbored, with immense secrecy, in the way of private thoughts.
“If it makes you nervous to have your own brother rub you down, just wait until some strange man strips you to your lovely skin and does far worse things to you than that after you’re married,” he smiled.
“Oh, the nasty things you say, you pest!” observed his sister, flushing and twisting uneasily in her bed. “You would do well to go into your own room now that you’ve got me quite myself again. Besides-“
She looked about dreamily, as if in fear of interlopers who might listen to conferences. “Besides, I shan’t marry. I’ve resolved upon that,” she murmured. “It must be such an altogether upsetting state-at first anyway.”
“Ha-also ha-ha!” he grinned. “When I’ve already seen how you and old Hank Hamilton have fallen for each other, you can tell that to Sweeney! He has three of your photographs on his desk in our suite in college”
“Well, he is rather a dear. But what I said still goes.” she remarked.
So revived and refreshed was Edith now that she felt the hunger which had deserted her thus far on the trip. Her brother rang for the porter and ordered luncheon up from the buffet since the dining car was long ago closed and dropped from the train.
“Up you get, Snookums,” he said. “You shall eat at this small table.”
Even though she flushed, Edith did not feel it so very distressing now to slip from bed in her long but gauzy nighty under the eyes of her apparently calm and collected companion. She slipped her slender, aristocratic feet into furred slippers and cast a negligee about her hurriedly as she saw in the long mirror how her body gleamed through the thin nightgown.
It was after she had partaken with gusto of a surprisingly tasty luncheon gotten together by the porter that she and Herbert became high-spiritedly playful in a way reminiscent of their earlier childish frolics. They played a little game called “Sight Unseen,” in which one of them pressed the backward-extended fingers of the other against some object-coins, an umbrella, a kerchief, varied articles-which must be appraised and identified by the mere fingertips.
Mischievously, Edith doffed a slipper. She laid a soft and rosy heel against his fingertips, which, by the rules of the game, must not be moved to aid in identification. And when he guessed that it was her chin he felt she gurgled with triumphant laughter.
They kissed every little while in glee, a long-omitted childish habit of theirs. The warmth and fragrance and dusky charm of the girl began to have a rare but well-remembered effect upon Herbert’s senses. She had slipped off the silken negligee at his suggestion-for it was rather oppressively warm in the compartment despite the open window, and her pinky-white nakedness was ill concealed-not at all concealed, in fact, when she chanced to be between him and the light-reflecting mirror.
She was sitting now in a little chair, eyes front and both slim hands extended behind her, awaiting her next test of astuteness in divination. If she could have seen his face and the glow in his dark eyes as he bent above her now from the rear, Edith might well have started up in dismay instead of laughing merrily as she defied him to fool her again.
For the unfaithful nighty had fallen well away from her lovely bosom and the light so fell upon her now that the tenuous silk of her sole garment was merely a mist about her fine body. His fingers working nervously, Herbert was silent and staring:
“Old slow poke,” she called him lightly as he delayed to put her to the test. “Chocolate or gloves that I guess it right away this time.”
His features strained, his brow furrowed, the boy was silently fumbling about his person. His body throbbed with feverish excitement as he caught one of her hands and laid the fingertips on a smooth, warm, hard something. “Heavens, me just a moment”! she said bewildered. “I thought it was skin at first, but no, let me move my fingers just a fraction of an inch. It seems round, warm-the ball, maybe, of one of your hands? No? Don’t tell me-give me a chance. If only I could move my fingers I’m sure I could guess it easily.”
“Move them as you like, use both hands,” he said huskily.
He brought her other hand to join its mate. “Oh-o-o-oh-what-what!” stammered Edith.
Both her white hands were now exploring, curling, clasping, investigating. “How hard-and long-and-what is this-hanging?” breathed the girl.
One groping hand had touched the dangling sack of his testicles. And still-such was her entire ignorance of the male anatomy-she did not comprehend the shameful thing her brother’s lechery had led him to do. It was the hair which first enlightened her.
“Hair!” she gasped. “It’s part of you. Oh-oh, Herbert, Herbert-how could you-do such a thing to me!”
Her hands retreated to her scarlet face. Her almost nude body trembled visibly.
“It’s what makes me a man-“ he whispered in a rosy ear.
She was silent, shuddering, for a moment. And then: “I know-I knew-I guessed it!” she wailed softly. “What an unspeakable thing to make me do, Herbie!”
“Well, good heavens, you have the same right to know about men-about me-that I have to know about you!” he muttered. “And you didn’t know-no, you didn’t know, you’ve never seen one, have you, limp or stiff, as mine is now?”
“No, no, no!” she panted. “I haven’t and I have no right to!”
“Just take it, dear. You needn’t even look at it if it scares you. But learn, at least, what it is like.”
As he took her wrists lightly Edith’s hand fell from her reddened face. As in a stupor, with shamed and impassioned curiosity, she let all her fingers be drawn once more to her brother’s virile nakedness. “Oh-oh-h-heavens!” she whispered. “How smooth-and how hard and warm-and how terribly, terribly big! Does such a thing as that really have to go-inside a girl? It’s incredible-no, no,-I shall never marry!”
He chuckled almost savagely, wrought into foaming lust by his young sister’s timid but thorough investigations. “You will marry. You will adore a thing like that. By God, I have a notion of marrying you myself, of taking you, darling. Take off your nighty. You’re so wonderful, so lovely. How marvelously happy we could be,” he muttered. “Edith, let me hug you all naked for a minute!” “Oh, you frighten me so, Herbert!” cried the panting girl. “Now you’re the way you were those other times! I-I shouldn’t have touched you!”
She sprang up, facing him now, backing slowly against her bed in alarm, seeing all his nakedness with glazed eyes.
With a mighty effort he took himself in hand sufficiently to smile and dispel her fear of unspeakable disaster. “I was just teasing you,” he said. “I’ll be reasonable, Edith, and so must you be. Here-as long as you have touched, find out all about me.”
Slowly the apprehension in the dark eyes and reddened face of the seventeen-year-old died away. Reclining now on her bed once more, and mindless now of the betrayal of her person by the scant apparel she wore, she yielded ashamedly to the glowing temptation which his rigid virility proffered so seductively.
Handling and petting the stalwart, inflamed member in a way which almost banished his self-control once again, the maiden cooed over it and even laid her soft, burning cheek against it. A great and inexplicable desire came over her. “Don’t look for a moment, Herbie,” she begged. “I just want to see how it seems to-“
As he humored her, with eyes averted, he felt her lovely lips upon the shining knob of his sex in a kiss.
“I-I know it’s horrid of me” she breathed faintly, her face scarlet as he looked down upon her once more. “But I just felt I-I w-wanted to.”
“It’s not horrid,” he denied. “It’s wonderful of you-it’s glorious! You do love to play with it, don’t you, Edith, even if you are afraid of getting married?”
For answer another timid kiss was pressed upon his member, this time just below the knob, and the fascinated girl did not try to avoid his eyes. “Listen, dearest sister,” he whispered. “Just for this once-it can never happen again in our lives-let us lie in each other’s arms, naked. Just for an hour-for ten minutes, Edith,” he coaxed as she shrank from this further yielding.
He sensed the fear of the ultimate sacrifice, of the abnormal and irretrievable conjunction, which made the maiden shrink and falter in spite of her inflamed state. “No, no-not that!” he disclaimed. “I will do you no harm-on the contrary. But think, dearest girl, all our lives long hereafter we can carry in our minds images of each other as we really are, unclad and happy together. It will be a secret which nobody can ever pry from us-all our own.”
She cast a bare arm over her face in a trembling silence which could mean only assent to the temptation which overpowered her. But she shrank when he returned from his own adjoining room as naked as a young faun, his male organ erect and swaying.
“Off with the pretty nightie, Edith,” he said quaveringly. “We’re to be just ourselves, you know.”
Half-rising, she let him draw the garment over her head. “But it’s a fearful an unspeakable thing that we’re doing, Herbie!” she moaned softly. “And you won’t-you won’t-oh, you will restrain yourself-won’t you!”
Nude and in each other’s embrace, they quivered and sighed and trembled in growing ecstasy at this full-length contact of their young and ardent bodies. In actual experience, Herbert, peculiarly perhaps-was as lacking as his sister. But the pressure of their naked bodies, their more and more fervid kisses, the rubbing of bared bellies and of swollen member upon fleshy mound, the twining of their legs and arms, all these wrought each to the point of madness.
The girl panted and heaved against the boy and it was all he could do to unwind himself from her embrace. Moving nimbly over the bed, he kissed his sister from head to toe, omitting no part of her, fore or aft, in his multiple caresses of lips and fingers. Edith writhed and gasped and moaned with delight beneath this torrid shower.
And suddenly, as he knelt beside her shivering body, the maiden reached in trembling passion for the turgid column which sprang from his mid-region. He let her have her way, curious now as well as eager to see just to what tenderness her instinct would guide her. She drew him gently by the sceptre of his sex. He half-couched over her flushed face.
She toyed lovingly with her new acquaintance with all her licentious fingers for a minute. And then, with a small moan, she pressed it once more to her lips in a long and fervent kiss.
“I know-at least, I suppose-that I’m being terribly unnatural!” she whispered shakily. “But-really-it is so lovely and dear-this big naked thing-and, since I positively refuse ever to have one of them inside me, why shouldn’t I-pet it just a little in other ways?”
“Do what you like, Edith,” he murmured huskily. “I love to feel your lips on me there.”
He shrouded her shame and her blushes with his curving body to encourage her, for this boy had an instinct that a caress he had only vaguely heard of was brewing for him in the craving of this pure and ignorant maiden who was his sister.
As the train shot through the Iowa night, this youthful pair of incestuous sweethearts had no conception whatever of location or time or of anything save the pleasure which coursed through their beings. Swayed by instinct and perverse lechery Edith Allison, Chicago’s greatest of youthful heiresses and a future debutante of national note-licked and sucked her brother’s member.
In her feverish delight she resented his gasping and then his withdrawal, and she fought to restrain her treasure.
“But-I would have spent, Edith, in another instant, right in your darling mouth,” he explained tremulously.
“Does that matter-d-does it?” she cried tearfully. I wouldn’t have cared-I was so happy!”
And suddenly she was in a convulsion of wild and unsatiated passion. She moaned and writhed and flogged the bed with her arms.
He lay upon her to restrain her from rolling from the narrow bed. Under the pressure of his nudity upon her own, the girl slowly recovered from her spasm and lay beneath him, shaking and sighing.
“Edith,” he whispered. “Let us try-how far this thing will go in without hurting you.”
“Oh-oh, my God-it wouldn’t go in at all-not a particle, Herbie!” she cried. “See-I can’t get my fingers anywhere near around it!”
“Just try” he coaxed.
“Well, if you like, though I’m sure that it can’t be even started,” she consented.
It was the desire to make a very small and delicate target more prominent rather than any experience which led the youth to thrust a pillow beneath the girl’s buttocks before essaying to bring their sexes into contact. Too greatly heated to mind any indelicacy now, Edith raised her knees and parted her plump thighs widely to his touches.
Even though the disproportion between spear and sheath did seem to both of them to make penetration almost if not quite out of the question, they pursued for several minutes experiments which resulted in immense sensations for each. Her breathing bated and being at first filled with apprehension, Edith kept sighing that he should “not go too far” and then that he should not stop “because it f-feels s-so v-very g-good.”
“It’s in a little way-I can see how the lips of your slit cling all about its tip,” he whispered. “Don’t worry, Edith. I just want to see if I can push the knob inside. Does it feel good to you too?”
“Glorious!” she gasped. “Oh, Herbie, g-glorious! But I’m frightened-for you might break something-and r-ruin m-me!”
Suddenly she moaned, and, shaking in every fiber under his body, she stared with wide eyes into his. Slowly the terror died from her gaze and in its place was a look of sheer ecstasy.
“Oh-o-o-oh-I think that big head went inside!” she quavered. “It-it st-stretches me awfully-but how marvelous it f-feels!”
He verified her belief as to the miraculous entrance of the widest portion of his instrument. His breath came in great gulps and in his reddened face was growing that look of the young animal which had so startled Edith on previous occasions and had always been accompanied by increased lustful passion on his part.
“Get off at once!” she panted.
“I simply must have you, Edith,” he gasped. “You see-it hardly hurts you at all. I shall take you-I shall!”
“I’ll die if you do, Herbert!” she quavered. “You promised we would only see if it would go a tiny way in. You don’t want to disgrace your sister forever, do you?”
As the inflamed boy still bored steadily, Edith suddenly burst into convulsive efforts to prevent a calamity whose real seriousness suddenly occurred to her. But it took tears on her part to recall him sufficiently to his senses to cease his inward pressure.
“Don’t cry, kid,” he said thickly. “I won’t-but-oh, my God-how hard it is to stop! I’d willingly be shot down afterwards if only I could screw you first!”
“Maybe you think it’s easy for me when I’m on fire all over!” she whispered. “But you know we mustn’t.”
He twisted the embedded knob within the portals and Edith gasped and trembled and moaned with bliss, a bliss which, alas, must be swiftly cut off.
“Listen, Edith,” he said hoarsely. “I shall have you some time, shan’t I, after you have been married and are all opened up!”
“Yes, I promise! she quavered, so inflamed now that she hardly knew what she was pledging. “But you must get off me now, dear.”
Never thereafter-largely, perhaps, because these young people were almost continuously separated-had this scene or its two lascivious predecessors been so much as referred to between them. Developing into a globe trotter, who kept a casual but effective eye on his immense financial interests, Herbert had never been able, in the midst of such amours as chance afforded to his occasional desires, to banish for long from his mind the image of a naked girl with long, dusky hair unbound and with her rounded, lovely body twisting in sensual longing. Edith had gone on to become the prize debutante of a happy social season and to marry her brother’s one-time college comrade, Henry Hamilton. But she, too, had memories which would be, she felt, life-long companions, and which made her flush and shiver when she at times deliberately brought them to her mind and reflected upon the seductive pit at whose verge she and her brother had barely restrained themselves.
Her Henry turned out to be all that a passionate girl could desire in the way of a spouse, so much so, in fact, that, with the growing cult among the young set for all that is spicy and subtly lecherous, Edith was several times on the point of narrating these adventures of her maidenhood, which she knew her husband would enjoy hearing and forgiving. Yet, perhaps, because of their incestuous flavor and because, too, Henry and others frequently jested about her obviously deep affection for her only brother, she kept the narrative under her hat.
With all this cyclorama of delicious early experience flashing before his mind’s eyes in mere seconds, Herbert crept almost automatically toward that door which separated him from the scene of the complete gratification in Edith of an intense sensuality which he himself had been largely instrumental in arousing. His heart was thumping and his nerves were swept by a tempest as he listened to the moans and love cries and all the evidences of his sister’s enraptured reaction in a situation which his mind was vividly portraying.
“What a nerve he’s got-and she too!” he found himself mumbling quite without basis in reason, “while I suffer in here, barred out. I, whose daily companion she was for twenty years or so. What an ungodly nerve! My rights are greater than his! How gloriously she fucks-oh, God in heaven, my head is swimming. I can’t stand it!”
Hastily donning a few articles of clothing, he stole down the stairs and hurled himself forth into the golden moonlight. He stumbled blindly over the little lawn, which had been coaxed to grow amid the sand of the lake shore, his pulses throbbing and his sex rampant.
But he exercised over his senses with will power now which went to a golden-haired and innocent-faced lovely girl whom he had found deeply fascinating in more than just body, a girl with whom he felt a queer communion, a sympathy, even greater when they did not speak than in their rare and rather halting, self-conscious chats.
He felt soothed somehow by the thought of Marion Stone, cleansed of the burning, perverse desires aroused by a voluptuous young woman of his own blood. How constantly tremulous and distressed was Marion amid these up-to-date frivolities with which they were surrounded. How delicate all her instincts, how touching her attempts to affect not to feel shocked by words and actions which in reality dismayed her utterly! Imagine her acting as his pretty sister and two other young matrons had done that afternoon on the shore, suits stripped down until even their round bottoms were exposed, then lying on their faces for sunbathing, in front of the men, and even letting their naked breasts be seen every now and then! Why, it was impossible to conceive of Marion’s ever getting so hardened. Not that he meant to reproach these others, whose new informality gave a returned traveler many a thrill.
He wandered towards the sand dunes, which were gilded by the clear rays of the moon. Calmer now, he heard faintly the sound of voices and laughter. They were nearer as he continued.
Ah-what was that? Herbert sank upon his face on a sandy hillock and listened.
The light was clear enough so that the reclining young man could make out the pale gold of the unbound tresses of that charming Mrs. Mildred Cochrane and the darker gold of the splendid silken avalanche of the hair of the girl of whom he had been thinking so earnestly as a cooling refuge for his guilty thoughts.
Good God-Cochrane, too, was there! And the great cuss had dispensed with even the scant bathing apparel, which he commonly wore! He was naked-the brute-the fortunate scoundrel! And he was calmly peeling the wisp of a suit from the snowy body of his svelte young wife.
Marion was squatting beside her sister. And-heavens! She was actually laughing, almost hysterically, nervously, to be sure, but yet laughing, at this indecency.
“Don’t be an ass, Maro,” the man was saying. “This is the only real way to bathe-in birthday suits. That’s why we have come out here in the middle of the night, to have this pleasure. So-off it comes, baby.”
“Oh Stan-it does seem so terrible somehow-to bathe all naked in a group!” sighed Marion. “Aren’t you afraid some one will see us, Mildred-?”
“If we’re seen the onlooker will be pleased, you may be sure,” observed her sister, already naked and twisting her lustrous hair to thrust it beneath a bathing cap. “Why be unhappy over pleasing someone-especially an imaginary somebody? Let me tell you that some of our friends here don’t wait until night has fallen to bathe naked. And since both Stanley and I have seen quite everything you’ve got, and hugely admired it all too, why hesitate over this bit of fun?”
“I know-it does seem silly,” sighed Marion.
Slowly she arose to her feet. Her exquisite outlines were revealed in the scrap of silk which she wore.
“But, now, you two won’t rumple me about and try to make me feel funny when I’m all bare, the way you did in the house?” she queried, fumbling at the shoulder of her suit.
“You feel ‘funny’ at the drop of a hat, sweetness,” said the smiling Mildred, approaching to divest her sister of the clinging, diaphanous fabric. “The mere sight of this disgraceful Stan in his present sate of odious excitement-or just he least touch you here and there-and you get all hot and bothered. There, old dear, don’t you feel one thousand times more comfortable? And how dare you be so beautiful, making your own sister jealous?”
The naked sisters were hugging fondly now. And, some ten feet away, lying in the sand, a young man was half-frantic with mixed feelings in which the infinite lust which he had thought to banish was predominant.
God-two young glories, if ever there were any! And this maiden in whom he had fancied a soul mate was quite the most adorable sight now that he had ever seen! Fancy-stark naked with her brother-in-law and sister! How they must have been working upon her girlish modesty as well as her passion during her short stay with them to bring her to this stage of yielding! And all this talk of even greater liberties which seemed to have broken loose in the intimacy of their home life.
Herbert’s head was in a whirl. If there was just the least trace of regret that this maiden whom he had set down as the lone white lamb amid all these attractive black sheep should have accepted-for family consumption, at least-standards so licentious and so obviously wholly novel to her, this regret and this disillusionment were drowned in a vast and voluptuous delight as he saw Marion thus nude and thus suggestively writhing in her sister’s wanton embrace.
For Mildred, a golden little bacchante in the moonlight, was moved to lascivious adventure. Undeterred by the presence of her husband, she was softly drawing between her rosy lips one of her sister’s coral nipples.
“Have a little suck, Stanley,” she called, raising her flushed face momentarily. “They’re too sweet for words. She’s as torrid as a furnace already, the dear!”
The brown-haired and robust Stanley was at the side of the entwined girls. Ashamedly Marion was making a feeble effort to break away from Mildred-Herbert noticed that. But he saw, too, how she trembled and cast her flushed and lovely face upward in the moonlight and he observed how she succumbed, sighing and moaning, when each of her superb breasts knew the caresses of a pair of wanton lips.
“Oh-for God’s sake!” gasped Marion. “I just knew it would be this way if we got our suits off!”
“Be quiet, baby,” panted Mildred. “You love it-you know you do!”
“Well-but-out here on the sand-where anyone may c-come along!” wailed Marion softly. “This would create a scandal even in this wild set. And you squeeze me so between you-and maul my breasts-it’s enough to set a g-girl w-wild!”
Two arms were about her neck. A male hand played upon her snowy buttocks. A feminine hand smoothed her heaving belly.
“Oh-o-o-o-o-h” gasped Marion. “I can’t stand it-I shall do s-something disgraceful! I f-feel so-Let’s bathe, please”
“She is terribly shaky,” murmured Mildred. “Perhaps we’d all better cool off in the water. Now then, darling, open your legs and let us both pet your dear little cunt for a minute. You and I will just play with Stan’s great stiff engine and then we’ll all take to the water.”
Under the gleaming eyes of the shaking and tremendously agitated Herbert this scene of incredible lechery and perversity was staged. And, strangely, the young master of millions found himself even more attracted towards the maid who thus yielded, with a sort of ingenuous lust, to the overpowering enticements with which she was surrounded than he had been when he had conceived of her as more innocent and less informed. Every nerve in his body strained toward this sensual semi-innocence which he found adorable.
His sex rampant, all his fibers aroused as never before, he had the queer feeling, as he saw the naked trio melt into the misty light of the rippling lake, that something of his own was being walked off with there, that a cool, sardonic appropriation of his most cherished treasure was being made. It was a feeling akin to the resentment he had so unreasonably felt when he had heard-and, with his mind’s eye, seen-his pretty sister possessed in the marital bed. That all his sentiments in the matter were irrational he knew at bottom, and yet he had to restrain himself, shaking with an almost demonic lust, from pounding after the vanishing trio and grasping Marion.
Herbert was as near to lunacy at this moment as ever a hard-headed fellow may be. His whole body was shot with rays of heat, which seemed to dance visibly before his wild eyes, as he stumbled back over the path he had come.
It was apparently fated that this night should be one of continued wracking episodes. For, as Herbert paused stealthily at the door leading from Edith’s and Henry’s chamber into the corridor, with the rather ignoble idea of tormenting himself lusciously by listening again for any repetition of their earlier carnal raptures, the door opened. Light flooded the corridor. In the doorway appeared the blond Henry Hamilton in his pajama jacket, his stalwart legs bare.
“What the hell!” observed Henry. “Oh, it’s you, old chap. I thought I heard a noise and, as it’s well after midnight, I thought an investigation in order.”
The door was swung wide. Over the shoulder of his host, Herbert’s eyes were caught-and held-by the vision of his naked sister upon the bed. Her tumbled nightgown lay in the middle of the floor where one of the pair had tossed it.
Edith lay sleeping deeply, outstretched on her back. Her full breasts, tipped with coral, arose and fell regularly. The glossy darkness of her thick and curling genital beard moved lightly, too, with her breathing, and her plump and shapely thighs were parted.
Herbert was hypnotized, quite unable to consider how his behavior might appear to this brother-in-law of his, who had been his one-time companion. His eyes were one dark glow and they were fixed upon the bed, which the informally clad Henry had just abandoned. He was shivering, his face a dull red.
“Are you sick, man?” queried Henry in a low voice.
Still no word came from Herbert’s constricted throat. Slowly there appeared upon Henry’s features, as he turned his eyes towards the bed, where he had left a lovely wife so completely exposed, and then looked once again upon the absorbed eyes and the shaking form of his friend, a queer little smile.
“Come in and have a little drink, old fellow,” he invited. “You look to me as if you need a shot. Be rather still, if you don’t mind, for Edith is asleep after going on rather a rampage. Hell, the little hussy has kicked off the bedclothes again, bless her heart! You won’t mind, Herbert. It’s hot, you know, and I suppose a brother may see his sister without its constituting high treason.”
He closed the door behind them. His guest looked for the first time fully at his brother-inlaw.
“God-but she’s lovely!” he whispered thickly.
“You’re damned right!” acceded Henry, already pouring whiskey from a decanter. He waved the intruder to a chair.
“Cursed few girls with her fullness of flesh who are built so beautifully,” went on her proud husband softly. “Tiptoe over there-she’s dead asleep-and take a right good look while you’re about it. I’d be silly to be jealous of your seeing her this way. Though, by God, I’m surprised you haven’t seen her many a time. I used to spy out chances to see my two older sisters naked, and, believe me, I was well repaid for the bother!”
“Listen, Hank, I don’t know whether I can stand this!” whispered Herbert hoarsely.
He had stumbled to the bedside and propped himself with outstretched hand on the sheet to curb his shakiness at seeing the nudity so near to his eyes.
“Nonsense, man! Have another drink. You’re overwrought. Take your private view all you like,” murmured the hospitable Henry. “Jeez, you have got a swell hard-on, haven’t you? I had one earlier but I put it to death with much joy. But damned if the silly thing hasn’t popped up again!”
And grinningly he made manifest the basis of his statement.
“Listen, old bird,” he whispered. “I’m going to awaken Edith pretty soon anyway-to roll her again-for I’m certainly not going to try to sleep with Jerry standing up like this. So, what say if we play a little joke on the kid? You go in and strip and then come back and lie down with her. I’ll be right at hand. You can pet her a little and wake her up slowly. Just imagine the way she’ll feel and the laugh we’ll have on her when she finds you hugging her and quite naked!”
“Almighty God!” breathed Herbert. “I’ll be a wreck when it comes time to stop! For, frankly, Hank, you can see the state I’m in. I had an experience out there on the dunes just now-“
“Yes?” asked his brother-in-law.
“Tell you some other time,” muttered Herbert.
“Well, anyhow, are you game? I owe Edith a little jolt or two anyway. She had no more pants on than a rabbit on the beach yesterday when Gerry Crandall and Bill Hoskins were rolling her about and shoving sand down her neck while she was in street clothes. And if you think they weren’t taking it all in you’re crazy! I didn’t mind that, for lots of the girls do as much, and she’s got something worth showing. But then she had the crust to get uppish because I was feeling Crandall’s young niece up a little off to one side. So what say? It’ll be fun, and you can even go right ahead and pretend you’re about to have a piece of her-you know, go as far as you like. If I get uneasy I’ll give you a yell.”
If all this was playing with dynamite-and it certainly was-that dynamite and its possibilities did not affright the perverse young husband in the least. Fond though he was of the youthful heiress, whom he had married, he conceived of this present situation as rich in possibilities of shocking pleasure quite out of the ordinary. The very cynicism of it, the vicious sequel to which it might well give birth, fascinated his jaded and voluptuous nature powerfully.
Within two minutes the naked Herbert had stealthily lay down beside his unconscious sister. Bending at the head of the bed, ready to slink out of sight if Edith gave signs of awakening, Henry Hamilton, his rigid virility manifesting an agitation comparable to that of his wife’s brother, whisperingly encouraged Herbert to take what advantage of the situation he could before she came to her senses.
But Herbert no longer needed encouragement. The beast which this same girl had roused in him on certain previous occasions was alive and straining. His senses swam as he cautiously nestled close to the satin nakedness of his wedded sister and very slowly took her in his arms.
That the man was launched upon a course which would subject Edith to the final outrages unless checked forcibly bothered Henry not at all. As his wife stirred and sighed and-still in the deeps of sleep but clearly moved by an awakening passion, pressed her naked brother tenderly with belly and thighs in response to his overtures, her spouse turned almost as red with lust as Herbert had become.
“She is so damned sound asleep,” he whispered in the ear of the latter, “that I’ll bet you could get half-way into her without her waking. Try it, man! What a whale of a joke if she wakes up to find your prick halfway up to her heart!”
This conscienceless and libidinous exhortation was scarcely needed Herbert was well on the way to complying with it. His chest stirred against Edith’s naked breasts as she instinctively moved to turn and face him. Their bellies came together.
Still asleep, but swayed obviously by licentious emotions, the girl slipped an arm about Herbert’s neck. She cast a warm, smooth thigh over his legs.
“By God!” breathed the bending, excited Henry. “She’s hot as hell even in her sleep! What a chance to get a nice slice of her, Herbie!”
The weird willingness of Henry Hamilton to treat himself to the spectacle of his brunette wife assailed by her own brother was not the fruit of the sudden impulse that it seemed, although the courage to be so brutally frank an instigator of the incestuous outrage was born tonight of the opportunity and of the potency of the drinks he had absorbed at dinner and later.
Almost ever since the return of the young globe trotter, he had cherished the notion, that it would give him great pleasure to bring to bed together this sister and this brother. Somewhat blase to the normal and hackneyed pleasures of life-though an avid fornicator when the occasion arose-the notion of encouraging and fostering this unnatural indulgence had tormented his jaded nerves for days.
He could not have told clearly just how it had arisen. The whole atmosphere of this summer colony, with its promiscuities, with its frivolous jollities which tended to become warmly and languorously sensual, had no doubt played its part in making him yearn for episodes beyond the pale of even the most daring indecencies. Like many a debauche, he was keen for the peep-show type of entertainment, and it whipped his senses tremendously to conceive of staging for his own pleasure the spectacle of this perverse indulgence, one which would have rocked the social world had it become known. That he himself and his marital honor were deeply involved merely served to heighten the lust which goaded him on.
There were other considerations, too, which had nursed his desire for this unspeakable episode. In the prolonged absence of her only brother, Edith was almost constantly revealing the extreme fondness which she had nourished since childhood for Herbert. The physical side of this fraternal obsession, born of incidents already described, she thought that she had managed wholly to hide from her husband. Yet the quick-witted Henry had had his moments of insight.
It had not escaped him that the topic of Herbert was likely to creep out at very intimate moments of their conjugal life. Lying naked with her spouse, perhaps caressed with Henry’s fingers or otherwise in ways reminiscent of incidents that had preceded her marriage, Edith was likely to express a murmuring wonder as to where Herbert was at that moment and just what he was doing. And she pouted but listened eagerly when Henry repeated and enlarged upon the tale which had come out of Zurich, which was to the effect that while Herbert was there briefly on his way to the eastern wilds he had been seen much with the fair bride of an impecunious English nobleman and the latter’s attractive older sister, and that when the Chicago Croesus went on his way towards the jungles and steppes these two girls disappeared also.
Scandal had been rather effectively hushed, and the nobleman had managed to give some rather unconvincing explanation of the vanishing of the two girls. But he had also given evidence of unaccustomed prosperity. An accepted but whispered theory had been that the young wife and the maiden had been practically sold to Herbert, probably when it was found impossible to detain them from accompanying their new friend, and that they formed this seraglio amid wild landscapes and adventures such as would have seemed ill-fitted to persons of their previous sheltered lives.
“We must ask him-he’ll just have to tell us” Edith had insisted with a flushed and impassioned fervor. “I don’t believe he’d do such a thing. And yet, really, Henry I suppose he’d just have to have at least one woman with him for health’s sake, wouldn’t he?”
“Many a chieftain and princeling wherever he travels would be quite willing to slip wife or daughter into Herbert’s bed. He wouldn’t lack for tail,” explained Henry. “No, he probably wanted these girls and took them. They’ve never reappeared, I understand, this Lady Kinsolving and her sister, Betty. Herbie may have stuck them into the harem of some emir or even have given them to a chieftain. Don’t think he wouldn’t do it if the caprice struck him or if he caught them cheating on him. I know this brother of yours, the son of a gun!”
“He is not a son of a gun,” protested Edith warmly. “He is very quiet and considerate and courteous, except, well, that is to say…”
Her voice trailed off in a certain confusion which made her husband give her a keen glance.
Other little incidents of the kind, each trivial in itself but all pointing to some hidden significance, had finally roused Henry Hamilton’s curiosity regarding the actual relations of his lovely brunette wife and her only brother. And this, instead of causing any resentment to mingle with his curiosity over the possible physical familiarities which might have occurred between this fine pair in their earlier family life, only stimulated a distinctly perverse brooding in his mind.
He had gone so far once as to accuse Edith of being in love with Herbert.
“What a perfectly foul joke!” she had gasped, turning scarlet. “Why, he’s my brother and being ‘in love’ implies a willingness or a desire to do all sorts of things together! You ought to know by this time whether I really care for any man except you, and you’re being horrid!”
“Well,” he expostulated, “don’t take it so cursed seriously, Edith. Every girl with a nice brother is more or less in love with him and I don’t see any harm in it if they are inspired to lollygag with each other a little. Blanche and Bernice never used to cut up if I happened to see them without their nighties.”
He did not add that his older sisters had never even been aware of his boyish, sensual curiosities regarding their bodies nor of his sometimes successful attempts to see them unclad.
Edith gave him a sidelong, quick glance.
“Well, of course-“ she murmured.
“Of course?” he queried eagerly as she paused.
“Nothing-I meant that if it just happened-and if it was all in fun-it might conceivably be excusable.”
“Certainly it would be ‘excusable.’ It would be more than excusable if it gave them any pleasure,” he affirmed. “Do you mean to maintain, for instance, that it would be any more blameworthy for Herbert to massage your naked titties-your own brother, whom you’d known always-than it was for Jack Birdsall to do that same thing the very first night you met him?”
“Well, good heavens, that was just a forfeit that I had to pay at a rather wild party!” argued Edith. “He just put his hands inside my corset-if you can call that wisp of thing a corset. There was no way I could stop him, was there, without being a spoil-sport? And it wasn’t ten minutes later that you had both your hands on Polly Jackson’s bare behind and then had to bring it out and kiss it before the whole crew when you failed to guess whose bottom it was!”
“I know, Good Lord-you’ve never heard me kick at any of our robust fun with our friends!” said Henry. “But what I was asking was whether it would not have been fully as allowable for Herbert to play with your body as for a man who was not relation to you?”
“Yes, it would,” Edith replied with some agitation. “It would be even preferable. But when you make a licentious thing of it…”
Satisfied with her confession, Henry abandoned the topic for the time. But his mind dwelt now on the party to which they had referred. He chuckled.
“That was a red-hot one, that party, wasn’t it, girlie?” he commented. “And I think about the best fun of all was when we found out that Violet Britt and Pembroke Houghton had gone and got themselves engaged to be married that day, and we got them both well soused and then said we couldn’t consent to their marriage unless they showed each other everything they had. They were so pickled that she at last took it all quite seriously, thinking that they really had omitted a necessary formality.
“He’s a devil, though, that Pembroke! I don’t think he was as soused as he tried to appear. Remember how the girls brought Violet in at last, without a stitch on her little body, and how gravely Pembroke entered then from the opposite door, stark naked? And we shoved them together in the center of the room. They were only supposed to look each other all over in the presence of the whole crowd. But she was weeping maudlinly and he commenced to hug her and console her. And damned if they didn’t both get so hot that they rolled on the rug together! And Violet would have gotten hers right then and there if we hadn’t intervened. That was certainly a warm number!”
“That was going pretty far!” smiled Edith, shaking her head. “We were all pretty soused, as far as that goes. That’s the only excuse there was for such a rank gambol as that.”
“I think it’s devilish good sport to be as pagan as possible,” averred Henry stoutly. “It adds to the gaiety of life. And there’s no permanent harm from any of it.”
His wife shook her head again.
“That was going too fearfully far,” she maintained. “An engaged pair-and she only eighteen and a virgin!”
“Well, damn it, her young aunt was there-and laughing harder than anybody else!” remarked Henry. “And she’s supposed to be responsible for Violet. Though, if you ask me, this newly engaged girl wouldn’t have cried at all if she’d been sober. She’s a torrid young sketch. Didn’t I see her running her bare toes deliberately into Stan Cochrane’s crotch when they were playfully wrestling on the beach?”
“The blamed thing was sticking up,” observed Edith reminiscently. “I saw it too and it seems to me that it tries to burst out of his bathing suit the minute he sees the least thing. I suppose it intrigued Vi. And since she couldn’t very well thrust a hand at it, she just felt it with her foot.”
Struggling for some time from the depths of dense slumber, Edith Hamilton had been dimly aware that something infinitely pleasant was happening to her. Her first semi-conscious thought was that she was emerging from a dream in which she was naked and held to a nude man, a man who caressed her with tender licentiousness, and a man whose whole swollen affair throbbed to the pressure of her rubbing belly. She came yet further toward the surface of reality. Reason began to assume a certain semblance of control, and facts and memory stood out more clearly.
No-it was real. What was the matter with Henry tonight? She thought that she had dozed off, weary but happy, after giving herself to him with one of their customary frenzies of delight. And here he was again wanting more.
“Henry, be reasonable, it must be very late,” sighed Edith. Her eyes were still closed. She was in an agreeable torpor, her flesh quivering to this male contact but not yet willing to surrender its lethargy.
The man by her side was panting. He seemed terribly inflamed. Slowly he was pressing her upon her back, now he was lying upon her.
“I have no idea what has come over you, Henry,” she murmured. “It can hardly be an hour since. And you never do it twice in a night. I’ll stay asleep, I think. You’ve never had a sleeping woman, have you, Henry? See if you can make me wake up. But don’t make those snorting noises, Henry, you’ll awaken poor Herbert. And if he hears us doing this the dear will go wild. He’s so very passionate, the precious! Oh, how very big you seem tonight. O-o-oh-easy now, darling-or all my nice little swoon will be gone.”
There was a light rustle and then the whisper, in a voice recognizable as that of her husband:
“All right, dear, keep on drozing. I’ll fuck you in this trance, and if you howl suddenly and bite me in the shoulder don’t blame me. I feel very hot and passionate tonight and that makes my prick about as big as Herbert’s. He has a corker, the old rascal, hasn’t he?”
“Oh, it’s very, very big-and very lovely!” sighed his deliciously reclining partner in this colloquy.
And not even the realization which flashed over her half-stimulated senses that, for the first time, she had admitted in words a carnal knowledge of her brother, served to rouse her from the luscious trance in which she persistently lay.
“I’ve seen it-and touched it-so there!” whispered Edith. “You and your bare sisters aren’t the only ones to have glorious fun together. And-oh, Henry-how I did want it inside me! But we were good-pretty good, anyhow. Henry, you are stretching me! What-oh, what!”
Slowly boring his incestuous way within his sister’s body, Herbert Allison heard all this whispered colloquy between husband and wife merely as meaningless sounds. Every nerve in his sinewy form was aflame as this long-obsessing passion for Edith became actuality.
Already the knob of his organ had passed within the rosy, distended borders of the girl’s moistening sex. And it may be that this glorious sensation of aching pressure recalled to Edith a certain occasion in a compartment of a westward-bound sleeping car, an occasion when a bulb that she had thought impossible to take in had contrived to force its way within her.
Since then she had known many an enraptured bout with her husband. And yet, even after all of that, her slit still had all the sensations of the close-lipped, virginal resistance and the slowly rising rapture which had crowned that experience with her brother.
Many a time in the few years which had elapsed since that trip she had dreamed of the episode. And now, when that episode seemed to be repeating itself while she was in an agreeable coma, the delusion that this great object was that of her spouse suddenly disappeared from her clearing mind.
She opened her dark eyes, from which all languor had fled now.
“My God-oh, God in heaven!” she cried hoarsely. “It is you, Herbert! Why-how!”
She made a weakened effort to start up, with a consequent effect which caused her to groan with a mixture of consternation and rapture and to flatten out in trembling helplessness upon the bed.
For, posted firmly on his knees between her parted legs, her flaming and maddened satyr of an aggressor met her movement with such a pressure that their united activities sent the male engine another full inch within the body of the young wife. And pinwheels and rockets of ecstasy burst within Edith’s nerves, and she could only pant and stare with wide, unbelieving eyes into the contorted, lust-reddened face of her brother.
Her whirling head assured her that, only a minute earlier, she had heard the voice of her husband addressing her on this very topic of Herbert and the latter’s physical endowment. Was this-was there a plot afoot, a plot in which her brother was the innocent instrument even if the guilty aggressor? Could it be that Henry had schemed to get her thus gloriously degraded in order to have this lovely horror to hold over her head, perhaps to divorce her in case some lewd hussy should have fascinated him?
“Oh, God, Herbert, where is Henry?” she cried. Her teeth chattered in her head.
“Go away-he must be near-he’ll see-and be furious with rage!” she gasped. “He m-may-w-want a d-divorce!”
“You’re out of your little head, my darling,” said a suave voice in her ear.
Tender, lascivious hands fell upon her naked and heaving breasts to pet and soothe them gently.
“Don’t affront my eternal love for you by having such ideas as those,” whispered her husband, as she turned wondering dark eyes to find his blue ones within inches of her head. “Just fuck nicely with your brother, Edith, and have the glorious time you’ve been longing for all these years. Don’t worry about anything, for I’m loving you more every second. It’s been in my mind to.”
And this colloquy was of sufficient force to give even the lust-crazed Herbert pause in his entrancing occupation. His eyes flaring and his body quivering, he halted in his penetration, with his member more than half-buried between his pretty sister’s thighs. But he crouched above her still, with a glare in his eyes and a tenseness of body that defied anyone to rob him of his prey now.
But the half-crazed Edith, exalted even more by finding her husband actually presiding over this scene and too maddened by the sudden cessation of that slow movement of Herbert’s tool within her, began to buck and heave so tumultuously that she unhorsed her brother.
With a low growl, he would have resumed possession of her person but Henry pressed him aside with friendly hands on his shoulders and a low voice in his ear.
“We’ll have her together,” he whispered huskily. “We’ll ram her a few times just to reassure her and start her going again. Then I’ll slip aside and you can finish her.”
Herbert growled again deep in his throat. Then, kneeling beside the pair with his fine member swaying and turgid and glistening, he stared in lascivious pleasure as he saw his sister impaled slowly upon the erect rod of her spouse.
Edith stiffened and moaned as she was penetrated anew, and almost instantly was sighing beneath Henry’s body. Even as he penetrated her, her husband reasoned with her.
“It’s an obsession with both of you, wanting a piece of each other,” he said. “You mustn’t be ashamed of it, but give way to it. I shall enjoy it, darling, I pledge you my word, instead of feeling outraged or angry. Give our Herbert a fine fuck and you shall have that emerald necklace we saw at Peacock’s.”
“I-I shall be so fearfully ashamed!” whispered Edith, her fine features crimson and her soft lips working convulsively. “With you looking on, especially. But I’ve told you, dear, I’ve been hot for him for a long time, though I’ve been trying to fight against it.”
She began to apprehend slowly the peculiar lust which permeated her spouse as he strove to bring about this abnormal conjunction, slowly but powerfully she realized that it would be unspeakably pleasant to commit this incest beneath the very eyes of a husband who would be completely delighted by every detail of its progress.
And so, almost out of her head and breathing from a parched throat she gave no resistance now when her husband withdrew and surrendered her to her brother.
“He was fearfully excited when he came in an hour or more ago,” whispered Henry to his wife as the latter shook and gasped under Herbert’s renewed penetration. “He had been out on the dunes, although it was already one o’clock in the morning. Something he had seen must have wrought him up terribly. And then, when I opened the door and he saw you naked on the bed and sound asleep!”
“Oh-o-o-o-o-o-h-by God-how big the monster is!” was the gasping, enraptured wail of Edith. “It seems impossible-every time he p-puts it in! What was it, Herbie darling, that you saw out on the sands that made you want to do such a terrible things as this to me?”
“No matter,” panted the young man. “Oh, God, but you’re wonderful, Edith. Your darling cunt takes me like a glove and hugs my prick all over! I would swear you were a virgin!”
“You’ll know better than that in another few seconds,” was the stammering contribution of his sister. “But-you’re so m-much bigger than-what I-I am u-used to! Oh-oh, m-my God-I-I!”
She paled slowly, her face drained of blood and her eyes closing, as her brother gradually sank his weapon to its full length within her.
“Lie like that a minute, dear one,” murmured the gloating Henry, sitting now on the edge of the bed. “He is a goodish bit more formidable than I, isn’t he, darling? And the added inch and the added bulk make a lot of difference. Lie still and get use to it. Ah, that’s better. The rose is beginning to bloom in your cheeks again and I can see your eyes rolling. Tell us what the devil it was that drove you nuts out on the dunes, Herbert.”
“It was a naked bathing party,” said the young man slowly. “And what they said and did. And it included a girl I would have sworn didn’t know the difference between a prick and a cucumber.”
“Ha!” breathed Edith. “It must have been his precious Marion. Oh, yes, don’t think I haven’t noticed what a hit she has made with you. She is a darling too. Who was with her? I’m rather surprised myself that she should consent to bathe naked.”
“It was her sister and young Cochrane,” responded her brother.
“Consider my surprise withdrawn,” retorted Edith. “Why, Stan Cochrane is a young bull, isn’t he, Henry? And Mildred is a sweetly complacent wife as well as about as hot a sketch as there is at Michigan Dunes. She’d have Stanley enjoying her young sister in a thousand ways even if Marion had been a nun when she came here, which she almost was. Yet I see no occasion for getting overwrought over the family bathing party. Why, we’ve had as many as twenty naked persons at one time here-and in the daytime too, sometimes-and of assorted families at that. Sometimes I wonder, Herbie, whether you haven’t stood still as regards the ways of our younger set while you were in the wilds in the way that Marion has in her Pacific Coast seclusion. And for heaven’s sake don’t blame that kid for letting her sister and her brother-in-law scrape some prudery off her.”
“Blame her! I don’t blame anybody” averred Herbert stoutly. “I haven’t been living in a monastery myself, you know.”
“So-s-so-o-o-o-h-so Henry s-says!” gasped his sister, slipping her plump charming thighs about him and planting her feet on his hard bottom. “Mind you, Herbie, if you move in me again like that I shan’t be able to talk in the least!”
“Well, then, don’t squeeze my prick like that or I shall certainly have to get busy!” he returned. “No, I had no notion of getting sore even if it had been any of my business, which it wasn’t, because this beautiful and well-bred kid bathed that way with her folks. But when they convinced her to allow them to handle her little slit, and when she consented to join Mildred in playing with the man’s tool-and what a whale he’s got, bigger than mine-well, I guess I did go a trifle batty. I admit I was jealous, all right. But it was a powerfully rousing scene, too. I had a terrific impulse to go after them and to drag her away and I’d have fucked her to a frazzle, virgin or no virgin, if I could have got hold of her! It seemed to me that she didn’t belong with them at all but with me, that I was being robbed of my rights!”
“And you’ve spoken to her just three times, I think,” smiled Henry.
“That has nothing to do with it,” responded Herbert impatiently. “I tell you there’s something between us that I can’t explain. But I was still in such a trance when I came back here that I hardly knew what I was about.”
“Do you know now?” laughed Henry, slapping him on the back.
And the slap served to put into fiery motion the pair which had been immobile during a conversation carried on under somewhat extraordinary conditions. For Herbert, gluing his body to that of his throbbing sister, once more stirred the lambent flames which she was restraining with difficulty.
With tremulous delight, she moved her body softly beneath him.
“Oh, God, why, it’s up to my heart!” she quavered. “Go on, Herbie, for God’s sake, fuck me, fuck me!”
With a hoarse little roar her brother went into action now, an action that was continuous and rhythmic and that was punctuated by ardent sighing ejaculations from Edith’s lips as a frenzied and ecstatic response was wrung from her body.
In a moment the glowing and frantic girl spent shiveringly, her feverish young spouse kissing her lips and her breasts. With his hand he checked Herbert’s movements until she could recover from her ecstatic spasm, for her brother, blind to everything save the bliss of their conjunction, did not even know that the passionate girl had preceded him in reaching the crisis.
In motion once more, Herbert’s great battering ram revelled in the tight, clinging warmth of the tissues which it strained. And Edith, her eyes rolled back in an infinite rapture that only this calibre of projectile could give her, swimming in a bliss such as she had never known even in her most glorious moments with her husband, was a frantic thing beneath him.
She bit at his shoulder, drawing him down to her with convulsive arms. She clawed at his flesh and she drummed with rosy heels upon his rear.
To all these demonstrations of the animalism which he had aroused, Herbert was obtruse and unheeding. She might have driven nails into his body now without causing him to pause or even falter in his long, rhythmic plunges and withdrawals. For his own animalism was feasting as never before, feasting on a banquet of which it had long dreamed hopelessly.
Edith spent again, crying out and plunging so furiously that her husband covered her mouth and looked anxiously at the opened windows. For, though quite willing that their bungalow neighbors should hear his wife’s exclamations of rapture or should even see her writhing in conjugal embrace, he was very much averse to putting her on display on this particular occasion.
And, as she spent, her brother groaned loudly again and shot his masculine milk within her body in jets that bade fair to spout forever. And Edith, feeling them, cried out sharply once more and fainted away.
When she came to her senses she was undergoing the tender, cleansing care of both her husband and a calmed and grateful brother in the bathroom. They carried her back to the bed on a chair of their hands, her arms about their necks. Her face was slowly regaining its accustomed fine color.
Herbert, satiated for the time being, yet sensually aroused still, lingered yet a while on the bed. He could never get enough of the splendid nudity of his sister, he thought, and her eyes devoured his body, too.
But, as the girl recovered her nervous equilibrium and as her still impassioned and unrelieved husband hugged and petted her amorously, she smiled a little ashamedly but wantonly and significantly at Herbert. It was clear to her that, having succumbed to the embraces of the one in presence of the other, the situation was about to be reversed. And it was clear, too, that her brother was quite willing to see this connubial indulgence and was in fact much excited by the prospect. For already his member was beginning to stir and to raise its head as he saw Henry rub his stiff organ on the woman’s flesh and suck her sensitive nipples at the same time.
And so, since not one of the trio failed to be heated all the more by the presence of both the others in these most intimate of moments, Herbert lingered to see his lovely sister possessed by her spouse.
He stood closely by as she spread wide her lovely legs to receive within her the familiar bliss-bringing visitor. She pushed up her bottom to engulf its turgid length, and, as she grabbed her lusty husband to her breasts and caught her feet behind his flanks to give him purchase, he commenced powerful shoves into her sensitive vitals. And Herbert leaned over to observe intently the effect of this carnal wrestling bout on his passionate sister. The radiant Edith’s breath came faster and was mingled with groans of bliss, as her eyes rolled heavenwards and dew collected about her warming lips, as her whole body writhed in sharply mounting ecstasy. Finally, with a wild flinging of her arms, she shrieked and gave way to convulsions in a long, drawn-out climax of her third delirious spending in the space of a few minutes.
It was a long time before Herbert could drift off into an uneasy sleep. And from that happy but restless sleep he was awakened within a couple of hours by a flood of light, and found the door between his own chamber and that of the spouses widely opened.
Beside his bed stood Edith, naked and flushed.
“I-I couldn’t sleep,” she said. “And Henry said since he wanted to sleep, and I was so restless, I must come in here with you. Is-is it all right?”
It was all right with Herbert.
Herbert awoke in a bewildered state, fleeting memories of the previous evening quickly organizing themselves into a chain of evidence as to the reality of what had at first seemed like a wild and incredible dream. The extreme lassitude which he felt in his body was but one testimonial to the amazing and shameful fact that less than eight hours before he had had an incestuous relation with his sister. It was a deed made even more shameful to contemplate in the cold light of bodily exhaustion by the fact that his brother-in-law, Henry Hamilton, had urged him to the crime, had indeed stood by in lecherous enjoyment of seeing himself thus cuckolded by his wife’s brother. For an instant Herbert felt a wave of shameful fury, and a consuming desire to kill Henry, to choke him to death, perhaps torture him by butchering his sexual organs. Then he remembered that night on the train, years earlier, when he was nineteen, Edith sixteen, when he had goaded and coaxed her until aroused to the boiling point. She had kissed and sucked his swollen member and he had persuaded her to let him insert the head of his throbbing organ into that tight and lovely crevice that he knew had never been seen by a man other than himself. He remembered too that he had asked Edith to promise that after her marriage she would let him possess her body, and he knew that in all the years since he had thought recurrently of her promise and had even half-anticipated it as he sailed home from Africa to see his sister for the first time since her marriage.
Being aware of Edith’s highly sensitive nature, that she was, like himself, inclined to revert to the moralistic training of their parents except during the madder sessions of that wild young married set who constituted her social companions, Herbert had hesitated to remind Edith of her promise. In fact, he had done nothing toward gaining his goal except for veiled inspections of his sister’s charms during those times when they had gone to the beach together. So covertly had he carried on these lustful surveyals, in fact, that Edith had not become aware of them, and although she too was mindful of the pact they had made on the train, and although she still longed to consummate this incestuous love affair to its ultimate, to revel in bacchic orgies with her brother, to feel the long-remembered stiffness of his weapon piercing her very vitals, she had been similarly shy and hesitant. Although burning with mutual desire, both brother and sister had thought that the other had determined to forget that mad, sinful night of long ago.
But now, Herbert thought with rueful realization, the thing had happened. Last night’s queer chain of events, his being driven from the house by the anguish of hearing his sister writhe in the ecstasy of sexual intercourse. He remembered seeking peace on the cool beach, to discover there the girl whom he had come to regard as a chaste, virginal lily, to discover her in the act of allowing her body to be stripped naked by her lecherous brother-in-law, while his wife, her own sister, aided and abetted the plan to expose the girl’s tender charms to their mutual embrace.
“My God!” Herbert said aloud. “What are we coming to? My brother-in-law tricks me into ravishing my own sister, Stan Cochrane’s wife goads her sister in letting herself be seduced by her husband.”
Then he grinned, shamed at this sudden wave of moral indignation.
“I’m certainly taking the attitude of an old fogy,” he thought. “A typical hypocrite, that’s what. While I willingly commit incest with my willing sister, while my brother-in-law enjoys the scene, I nevertheless have to stifle a feeling that I have been outraged because Stan Cochrane has gained a prize that I wanted for myself. Why am I any more pure than Marion? What right have I to condemn her for doing in innocence what I did in full knowledge of the crime? I know Stan Cochrane well enough to be certain that he had been practicing on that girl for several weeks. Mildred, too, has been at work, I’ll venture, for she is the type who would enjoy seeing her precious husband take another woman, and, if it be her sister, so much the better.”
Thus Herbert reasoned as he lay there in bed, because he felt now the imperativeness of his getting married, or, in any event, the need for a woman, a bed-mate. His orgy of the night before was a regrettable affair and obviously could not be continued without fear of drastic results. It might prey on the mind of his sister, or upon his own. Worse yet, Henry might become stricken with remorse over his frenzied impulse of the night before, and do something desperate. To marry Marion, that is if she would accept him, he thought modestly, was the first thing for him to do; to go away, to remove himself from the temptation to repeat such a scene with his sister, was the next.
Herbert’s desire to marry Marion had been growing for sometime, and although he had been temporarily repelled by the scene upon the beach, the events following it, involving his own behavior, made it scarcely honest of him to be self-righteous. Again, the maddening sight of Marion’s lovely figure stripped to the lustful gaze of her sister and her brother-in-law, as well as to his own, had driven him to such excitement that he had almost had an orgasm as he lay there in the sand. Thinking of her now, his limp tool stiffened slightly, jerking spasmodically like a sleeping animal, and he smiled proudly at this evidence of his virility, arousal in an instrument that had done yeoman service the night before. He determined, then, to seek out Marion that very day, and if necessary to carry her off by force.
As matters developed, however, there was no need for desperate action. Marion had gone through an amazing and, to her all too recent state of virginal innocence, harrowing experience during the previous night, and she had come to a decision that was not unlike Herbert’s. Recalling the night spent in bed between Mildred and Stan, and the acts to which she had acceded all too willingly, she felt her face burn as with fire. The libidinous couple, and Marion admitted shamefully that she was no less lascivious than her sister, had performed upon her body the most shameful of perverted pleasures, had explored each crevice of her with burning fingers and mouths had done everything, in fact, except actually destroy her maidenhead. And this, she recalled, she had begged Stan to do.
During the course of the orgy, Mildred had suddenly felt the desire to excite her little sister to the maddening ultimate by having her be a witness to Stan’s taking her with his battering ram. Stan had thought the idea a charming one, and though he would have vastly preferred to explore that much tighter crevice which he had learned was small even for the tip of his distended tongue, something in his make-up made it against his code to actually deflower the girl. He knew, too, that Mildred would not have permitted him to actually screw her sister, at any rate not until after she married.
Nevertheless, Mildred had conceived the idea of letting Marion see the sex act performed at close range, and, spreading her legs in such a position as to allow Marion a full view, she had beckoned the willing Stan to mount and ride. Stan had advanced to the saddle, and Marion, bent eagerly forward for close inspection of the ceremony, had watched Mildred grasp the huge protuberance in her hand and guide it to its intended destination. She had marvelled at the ease with which the monster, once its flaming head had been swallowed by the hair-encircled slit, buried itself within Mildred’s feverishly writhing body. As Stan exerted the full pressure of his buttocks in driving the organ home, Mildred had given a little cry of joy, abandoning herself to the advances of her husband, and in a frenzy of desire had locked her white legs around his sturdy buttocks, as if to possess the instrument to its last fraction of an inch. Then they had begun a mad, mutual writhing, their bodies rising and falling in fevered synchronization, arms entwined around each others’ chests, their lips half-parted as they exchanged lustful kisses in imitation of that other union of their lower parts.
Marion, her eyes glazed with passion, bent so close that the odors from this friction assailed her nostrils, filling her with such carnal desire that with a cry of utter abandonment she had fallen upon the couple, tearing at them, screaming in her madness for Stan to withdraw from Mildred and turn his bludgeon toward her own burning nest. The couple, now nearing the climax, paid no attention. Heated to the fullest extent by the mutual contact, they concentrated on realizing the completion of the intercourse, ignoring the desperately voiced cries of the unwilling virgin.
Marion had almost gone mad. Unable to break the embrace of the squirming couple she fell upon Stan’s back, twisting herself so that her legs straddled his neck, and lying flat she bent her head until her face was scarcely an inch from her sister’s well-filled box. As Stan recoiled from each lunge Marion could see an inch or so of its base, glistening with the dew that had been showered upon it as a result of the invasion. His big balls swung formidably to and fro, striking sharply against Mildred’s buttocks at each lunge. At length, driven beyond further ability to be a mere witness to this pleasurable exhibit, and fairly groaning with unsatisfied lust, Marion sank her head between the heaving buttocks of her brother-in-law, and, parting the cheeks with shaking fingers, she applied her lips and tongue to that orifice above the swinging bag. She continued the perverted caressing, growing bolder as the squirming beneath her increased in fervor. Down farther went her excited tongue, licking and darting at the bag, farther still, and, lifting the giant balls in her hands, she pressed her lips against the wriggling pussy of her sister, her face flat against Stan’s inner thigh. This she did not stop until the bodies beneath her had relaxed into exhausted inertness. She was not aware, in fact, for several minutes, that the motion had ceased, so carried away had she been by her emotions. It was not until Stan’s tool, wilting after its terrific bout, had fallen limply from its gaping sheath, to dangle futilely against Mildred’s now relaxed hips, that Marion noticed the cessation of activity.
Raising herself to an erect position she saw the couple lying in a sort of stupor, or so it seemed. Mildred lay lax, her arms lying loosely at her sides, her eyes half-closed, her mouth open, Stan was even worse-he lay like a bag of potatoes, his dead weight full upon Mildred’s supine nakedness. Finally he stirred, and with a half-audible groan he rolled off her, his sex now diminished in size and flopping against his groin.
At this point Marion stopped thinking of what had happened. She felt utterly degraded for an instant. Then, remembering the treat that was yet in store for her, the fulfillment of her desire that Stan had refused her, and, knowing that he would not take the treasure of her virginity, she determined to waste no time in securing for herself a husband.
She thought of Herbert Allison quite naturally, for they had more than once betrayed an interest in each other. Each knew that the other was attracted, and, indeed, both had thought subconsciously of marriage. Thus it was that their separate experiences of that warm night had hastened a climax that otherwise would possibly have been brought about in a more roundabout and formal manner. They encountered each other that afternoon on the beach, and, although Herbert thought that he was bringing suit to Marion, he was actually maneuvered into a proposal by the girl’s suggestion. For, though Marion was a novice at the game of sex, she was gifted with that power that all women are born with use instinctively. Therefore, as the couple sped toward the city, where they had decided to be married quietly, Herbert’s congratulations to himself were not altogether in order. Had he but known it, he had had little more to do with the wedding than offering himself as groom.
The marriage had been performed with all the pragmatic briefness that characterizes the civil ceremony. Although Marion would have preferred the ornate pomp of a church wedding, with its attendant hullabaloo, she had yielded this desire to the more immediate necessity of escaping from her sister and brother-in-law. And, having recognized beforehand that Herbert possessed all of the outward characteristics of a good husband-young, handsome, physically stalwart, as well as the recipient of a substantial income-the necessity for a quick decision after his abrupt proposal had not been confounding. Having decided some hours before that Herbert would be the ideal mate, and having formulated the first steps toward bringing him around to a proposal, his “jumping the gun” had been a welcome surprise. In her desire to have a husband of her own, to gain the supreme pleasure that Stan Cochrane, with all of his libidinous caresses, had denied her, Marion had acceded readily to Herbert’s idea of a hasty ceremony, without even one of their friends as a conspirator.
On the way to the Chicago hotel where they were to wait for the hour when they would board a train for New Orleans, they hurriedly planned a honeymoon itinerary, in the course of which they intended to stay in Havana, Bermuda, and possibly, if they felt a mutual desire when these places had been visited, Europe. As Herbert drove the powerfully motored car at a slow pace through the snarl of traffic, he made no attempt to conceal his impatience. Several times Marion heard him curse audibly, and her first momentary shock at this unseemly language was quickly dispelled by the realization that she was not one whit less impatient than her husband of ten minutes. And although she was less gifted in the art of profanity, having heard her first “cuss word” less than a month before this day, she was thinking unkind things about the trucks and automobiles and policemen that impeded their journey.
At length the car swung from the thick confusion of traffic and came to a halt before the magnificently austere entrance of the ultra-select hotel that Herbert had chosen. It was a hotel of the swankiest type, exclusive to the point of snobbery, and so exacting in its clientele that it was said to have once turned away one of the world’s most famous actresses because to have such a celebrity in the establishment would have resulted in the hotel’s being mentioned in the newspapers. Herbert had not thought of the hotel as a honeymooner’s sanctuary. Had he done so it is likely that he might have rejected it in favor of less snobbish accommodations. He had driven there from force of habit, since it had been patronized by his parents for many years. As he signed the register, he thought, smiling as he did so, that his guiding impulses had served him well. A word to the manager, whom he had known since boyhood, and no word would leak out that Herbert Allison, the millionaire explorer, was in the city with his bride of a hurried courtship. Here he and the lovely Marion would be free from the congratulations of a well-meaning but at the moment unwelcome host of friends.
Marion stood nearby as Herbert talked with the manager. She strove to exhibit an appearance of nonchalance, as though she had been going to hotels with her husband for several years, but it must be admitted that she made a poor imitation of a casual matron. Several passersby looked meaningly at the two small bags, all the luggage that she and Herbert had between them, and raised suggestive eyebrows as if to say: “Ah, a little bride-a lamb going to slaughter.” A woman passing, a plump woman whose appearance suggested a wifehood of at least ten years, looked at her and sighed. How can they know that I am just married, Mildred asked herself. She blushed, glancing furtively around the lobby at the staring people, and then she noted with great relief that Herbert was hurrying toward her, a smirking little bellboy trailing behind.
They entered the elevator and ascended, both striving to appear unconcerned, both seeing in the exchange of glances between the bellboy and the elevator operator that the two boys were secretly elated by the fact that here was a newly wedded couple. Marion, feeling the obscene implication of the message, blushed a crimson hue, and turned her face toward the elevator wall.
Herbert had taken a suite of two rooms and a bath. As they entered the living room Marion trembled with the realization that here she was, a bride, no longer a child or an innocent young girl, but a grown woman, soon to receive the final initiation into life, the process by which she would lose forever the treasure that is held up temptingly as a prize for the man who wins a maiden’s hand.
Herbert paid the bellboy, dexterously steered the inquisitive youth through the door, and turned with a look of suddenly released eagerness to Marion, who stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, still holding her pocketbook. He reached her in two strides and clasped the trembling girl in his arms. She melted, almost collapsed into his embrace, clutching him around the neck.
“At last we are alone!” Herbert cried. “Oh, my dear little Marion, I thought the time would never come when we would be safe from the gawking of all those people. Every minute has seemed like a day since we left the justice’s office. At last, dear, we are alone to enjoy ourselves as husband and wife, to become more fully acquainted with those sides of ourselves that are not readily apparent.”
Marion did not answer. Her mind was occupied with sudden fear. What if she did not succeed in portraying the role of an innocent girl? What if she betrayed, by some lapse into casualness, that she was no stranger to the intimate gestures of an amorous man? Would Herbert perceive the guilt which she would strive to conceal?
All these thoughts disturbed Marion as she felt herself being led adroitly toward the door that led into the bedroom, but soon she was to learn that her fears were uncalled for. For Herbert had no more than closed the door when he grasped her again in his arms, but not with tenderness. He seized her roughly, his right arm circling her waist, the hand cupping itself boldly over her breast. His other hand pressed her thigh, squeezing it firmly. The look of genuine shock in Marion’s eye brought a short, cynical laugh for the now fully aroused Herbert, a laugh that conveyed to her troubled mind the knowledge that Herbert knew something. What was it? Had Stan or Mildred told him the shameful story of their initiating her into the elementary facts of life? Or had he guessed that Marion was not so chaste and unsullied as she was reputed to be. Was he one of those cynical young men who suspect the worst of every woman? Although she was aware of Herbert’s sudden change of attitude, suspecting that his dropping of all pretense was indicative of something of the sort, she was not prepared for the disclosure contained in his next words:
“Come, Marion, my girl, I think it high time we dropped our pose of bashful swain and innocent maiden. Although you doubtless do not suspect it, I was a spectator to a scene in which you were one of the leading participants. The tableau I saw makes me fully aware that you are by no means a stranger to the naked body of a man. Let us put our cards on the table, my little wench.”
Marion felt both thrills at the masterful, cave-mannish tone of Herbert’s voice had assumed and horrified guilt in the face of the knowledge that Herbert had observed one of the “lessons” she had received from Stan in that secluded nook near the beach. She waited, breathless, for him to make the next move.
Without speaking Herbert began removing her clothing with an ease that betrayed a more than passing skill at undressing a lady. First her jacket, which he slipped from her arms, letting it drop to the floor; next, her skirt-a finger inserted at the waist band released the hook-and-eye fastener, and the garment was pealed downward off her hips, collapsing on the floor at her feet. The lacy slip that completed her ensemble was easiest of all to the desecrator: it buttoned all the way down the front, and the flying fingers made short work of these obstacles. It too fell to the floor, and Marion, speechless with excitement and fear, buried her face against her husband’s chest, as he peeled the slip from her breasts and started it over the same journey traveled a moment before by the outer skirt, over those delicately curved and dimpled mounds whose explorations by Stanley Cochrane had given Marion such thrills of shameful lechery, had excited her to the point that she had at length succumbed to his most bold caress.
At last, stark naked except for her stockings and shoes, Marion felt Herbert’s arms relax their grip and, unsupported, she sank weakly to the floor. She looked up at Herbert and gave a little cry when she saw that he was divesting himself of his own garments even more rapidly than he had stripped her. She watched, fascinated, as he ripped off his shirt, exposing a muscular chest, well grizzled by hair, and beneath it the trim waist of a man well conditioned by exercise. Although Herbert was not the giant physically that Stan Cochrane was, Marion noted, he was no less firmly constructed in build, and as he slipped off his shorts the rampant organ, already fired with energy, burst into view, giving her the happy tidings that Herbert could well take care of the duty left undone by her brother-in-law.
Gone now was her modesty, although less than a month ago she had never given serious thought to a woman’s married life-less than twenty-four hours ago, in fact, she would have been blushing furiously at the thought of the impending ordeal. Now she lay supine on the thick carpet, her naked body posed seductively against the rich red cloth, One arm, bent at the elbow, supported her head, the other lay at her side, making no attempt to cover as best it could the charming spot, even more enhanced by its protective tuft of curly hair, from which Herbert had not wrested his gaze as he stripped for action. Now, as he sank to the floor beside her, although her face colored, this was not so much a blush as a surge of passion-heated blood rushing up from her febrile body to dizzy and intoxicate the girl with its lustful yearning. Still, as she felt the contact of his bare flesh against hers, she could not abandon from her mind a thought that had come to her with Herbert’s exposure of her interludes with Stanley Cochrane. Eluding his burning lips as they sought her own, she asked, falteringly, for she had not yet acquired the nonchalance of other young women of the colony in discussing matters of sex:
“But, Herbert-you know, it wasn’t-nice to let myself be treated so by a man. If you saw-us, you must despise me. How could you marry me? You seemed to like me at first because I was unsophisticated-at least that’s what Mildred said-so how could you still want to marry me after you found out?”
Herbert laughed. “Nonsense, dear I determined to have you the first time I saw you, and the sight of you giving such enjoyment to Cochrane only increased my desires, giving me the added pleasure of stealing you away from that young stud. Why should he have two women, particularly when one of them is desirable to me?”
“But, Herbert, darling,” Marion persisted, “you seemed so reserved, so noble, compared to most of the people we know. You seemed positively ascetic!”
“Oh, ho!” Herbert said. “So that’s it? Because Herbert Allison reserves his amours for his bedroom, for actual enjoyment rather than topics of conversation, he is considered to be an old fogy? Well, well, and how could a little pupil of Stan Cochrane’s and your lascivious but charming sister think of marrying such a pious man? Answer me that?”
Perceiving his manner to be a joking one, Marion giggled. “To tell you the truth, Herbert, dear, I married you to reform myself. I hoped to forget the vile things I have been forced to learn from my lecherous sister and her bull of a husband. But now it looks as if I have gained little for the peace of my soul.”
They both laughed, and, the awkwardness dispelled by this mutual confession, they entwined in their first physical embrace. Her luscious young breasts heaving, Marion strained her body upward as if to fuse it against that of the equally inflamed man. His throbbing tool, now swollen to its full size, lay against the girl’s thigh like a hot iron.
Marion felt her whole body tremble, and it seemed as if her pubic hair stood on edge.
“Take me, Herbert!” she cried. “Do anything you want! Beat me! I’m yours to do whatever you like with!” She slid her hand quickly down his flank until it grasped the powerful engine of his sex. She squeezed it, caressed it, covering and uncovering the head with sliding motions of her hand.
Herbert’s hand had found a corresponding object on the shapely body that lay beside him. His fingers toyed with the curling little brush of hair, combing through it and pulling gently, each time pausing to touch the faintly moist lips of the anticipated treasure. He could feel the involuntary contracting of the girl’s muscles each time he repeated this caress, and, growing bolder, he rubbed a finger along the groove, back and forth until it had moistened sufficiently to become an entrance. His finger went in to the first joint, and then, instead of the slow but inexorable advance into that delectable cavern, the finger met an obstacle. He pushed a fraction harder, but with no success. He looked inquiringly at his bride.
“I say, didn’t Stan er-er, ah-put his tool in your-?”
Marion became embarrassed again. “No, Herbert, darling. He didn’t do that-he said that it was against his code to deflower a virgin. He said that was a husband’s pleasure.”
“Damned considerate of him,” Herbert said with a touch of sarcasm. “What else did he say?”
“He said that after I was married he was going to have a piece of me if he had to tie my husband to a tree while he was getting it,” Marion said, feeling a desire to arouse Herbert’s jealousy.
But Herbert laughed. “So that’s his game, eh? Well, why not? Plenty of men have tried to have a bed party with your sister, and have perhaps succeeded-meaning no offense to your charming sister, of course. Turnabout is fair play. When we return to the Dunes I’ll see if he will agree to a temporary trade-a comparison of brands, so to speak. That is, of course, provided that your sister would not be averse to sampling the product of her brother-in-law.”
Marion was startled by this evidence of a broad-mindedness that surpassed even that of Stanley, so far as she knew. But any feeling that she may have had in anticipation of the day of return was side-tracked by a more immediate task at hand. Instinctively, she wriggled her body slightly against Herbert’s, communicating to him that, for the time at least, Stan was not on hand to bargain with.
Herbert held back the expected embrace. His face still bore a puzzled look. “Well, if he didn’t actually take you, what did he do, besides stripping you naked?”
“He-kissed me-all over.”
“Oh, he did?” said Herbert. “And did you like this kissing?”
Again Marion blushed. But excited now almost beyond endurance, burning with anticipation of what was in store for her, she smiled and answered. “I must confess that it gave me supreme pleasure. Although at first I thought this caressing strange, and even disgusting, I was soon disabused of that idea. Stan, and Mildred too, assured me that this form of love-making was a favorite relaxation among lovers, as well as being an excellent stimulus to jaded passions.”
Herbert said nothing in reply, but Marion was not long in learning that he agreed with this pronouncement. For he had begun kissing her with uncontrollable fury, exploring each curve and crevice of her body with his fevered lips, first her breasts, letting his lips pause lovingly on these pointed beauties, his tongue tickling their nipples until Marion thought she would swoon with delight. Then his lips moved on and downward, over the white, velvety belly until they found the navel. At the same time his hands were stroking her thighs and legs, pausing now and then to pat or squeeze some particularly delightful spot. Marion gave a little gasp of pleasure as the burning lips rested for a brief moment on her sheath, and, throwing her legs open wide she invited him to the feast.
Herbert needed no urging, and his subsequent actions proved that he was no novice at this game. Bending to the task, he applied his tongue to the fiery region of delight, while Marion, no longer murmuring shamed protests as she had done when first subjected to this experience by the ruthless Stanley, wiggled her deliciously curved loins to meet each darting movement of his serpentine tickler.
“Oh-oh-oh, Herbert, darling, that is marvelous!” she gasped in rapturous ecstasy. “Oh, it thrills me to the very center of my heart. I have never known such pleasure to exist!”
Abruptly, Herbert raised his head, and, half-turning, looked at her. Although this amorous dalliance had brought him even nearer to the climax, he still was bent upon wreaking a kind of vengeance on this lovely girl. Even though he boasted of a broadminded outlook on such matters, and indeed felt a sort of gratitude to Cochrane for having performed the preliminary tasks of breaking down her resistance, he was determined to humble this girl, to force her, if necessary, to respond in kind.
Therefore, he turned over on his side so that his rampant organ, swollen almost to the bursting point, dangled against her breast, scarcely six inches from her lips. Seeing the monster at such close range, Marion’s first impulse was to cry out in shame, to turn her head from such vulgar familiarity. But one look into Herbert’s flaming eyes told her that such theatrics would avail her nothing. So she smiled, and, clasping the rearing sphere in her two hands, she pressed it wildly to her breasts, turning so that it lay between the heaving mounds. Feverishly she rubbed and tickled it, even squeezing her breasts together, enfolding the member in their gentle caress.
Herbert shifted his position slightly, bringing the ruby crown half the distance to her mouth, while his hands continued to explore her lower regions, concentrating on the most maddening spots. His virile shaft now grazed Marion’s dimpled cheek.
“Oh, darling, please don’t make me wait any longer! Oh, please, ravish my body with it-kill me, if you like, but don’t excite me more or I’ll lose my reason! I’m crazy for it!”
Herbert continued to stroke and squeeze the girl’s delicately molded hips and run his fingers through the curly thatch of hair wherein he had so recently planted the most ardent kisses. Then, without speaking, he reached down and, grasping his tool with one hand, guided it deliberately to Marion’s lips. She turned her head, gasping:
“Why, Herbert, how can you push that thing to my lips?”
Herbert laughed shortly, the sound coming in wheezing gasped that betrayed his excitement. “Come now, Marion, my dear, I’m sure that Stanley Cochrane hasn’t let you be a stranger to this pleasure. Surely he impressed upon you, during his so very generous tutoring, the necessity for reciprocity.”
“No, no!” Marion gasped. “He didn’t. I never heard of such a thing.” The truth was that Marion was eager to apply her lips to this lovely giant, as she had indeed applied them to Stanley Cochrane’s, but one last spark of maidenly purity impelled her to simulate unwillingness. So, though she felt the desire to fall upon this stiffened organ, to push it all the way down her throat, if possible, she determined to resist the impulse until Herbert used more coaxing methods.
This feeling must have been communicated to Herbert, for he changed his manner of attack immediately. Renewing his fond caresses on Marion’s pelvic regions, he rolled over on his back and with his powerful arms lifted the girl’s unprotesting body up and over, so that she now lay atop of him, her thighs straddling his neck. Her rosy buttocks, divided by a deliciously mounded alley, terminated in a shadowy region that secreted that mecca of all lovers’ pilgrimages. Spreading the satin thighs a little, the nest came into view, hanging temptingly a scant hand’s breath above Herbert’s face. With a little shudder of delight, Marion felt the contact of his ravenous tongue as his hands pulled her buttocks gently into position.
Marion now lay in such a position that Herbert’s protuberant weapon reared upward directly before her face, waving ever so slightly as if urging her to taste its sweets. Her hands crept passionately over his belly and groins. With trembling fingers she smoothed the pubic growth, and, adventurously letting her fingers go still lower, stroked and petting the terrifying bag that hung suspended beneath the rigid rod. The caressing motions of that tormenter at work between Marion’s thighs had now begun to have their effect. With a weak cry of acquiescence, she placed her lips to the crimson head. Her tongue fairly leaped to its duty, and opening her mouth she welcomed the raging visitor. Pressing her head downward, she let the member slide backward until she almost choked, then, remembering Mildred’s demonstration of this dalliance, which both Mildred and Stan had told her was the most thrilling and delectable of all embraces, she let it slip out until only the burning head remained in seclusion. Her tongue, inexperienced as it was, possessed some instinct that guided it to the most exciting regions, and worked furiously to repay caress for caress.
Trembling with lust, their passions whipped to fury by their mutual embraces, the two bodies jerked and writhed on the silken rug. Marion felt the fire within her groove increase, unallayed by the wet tongue of Herbert. Panting with nervous tension, driven to complete abandonment by this tantalizing maneuver, she pressed her slit still closer to Herbert’s hot face, and, burying her head between his thighs, licked madly at his squirming buttocks for an instant, then seized the palpitating monster once more with her lips and pushed it greedily into her mouth. Her whole body, mind and soul, was now consumed by lustful excitement, and it is to be doubted if she would have consented to relinquish this morsel, even had a dozen strangers walked into the room. Alternately licking and sucking at this treasure, she felt it become harder with each touch. Suddenly she realized that she was about to spend, and with this realization she knew that Herbert’s staff was about to do likewise.
For an instant she felt a revulsion at the idea of receiving this offering in her mouth, although she had seen the lascivious Mildred, under a similar circumstance, not only permit the volley, but swallow its jelly-like content, and even continue her oral ministrations until the last drop had been extracted. But she had no further time to decide whether to accept or reject the discharge, for at this moment, with a muffled scream, her body jerked spasmodically as Herbert’s ruthless attack accomplished it purpose. So weakened from the thrilling ecstasy of the deluge, she could not have pushed Herbert’s member from her mouth had she wanted to do so, and, as he in turn began to heave and squirm in the throes of his own gushing climax, Marion’s lips tightened on the twitching shaft. The torrent filled her mouth, overflowing onto her cheeks, as ejaculation after ejaculation came rushing forth. Delirious from the effect of this culmination, she continued her ministrations until her mouth was filled, and not to be outdone by Mildred, did with this gelatinous mouthful exactly as her sister had done.
Exhausted at last, the conquered giant, now rapidly shrinking in size, slipped from her parted lips, and Marion rolled from her position to lie limply on the floor at Herbert’s side. She lay with her eyes closed for some time, her mind reeling with tumultuous recapitulations of the scene she had just aided in enacting. She realized, with a fleeting feeling of shame, she had committed an act that a week before would have terrified her with loathing by its very suggestion. Her senses, whipped and goaded during these days by the lecherous Stanley and her sister, who was no more restrained in her lovemaking than he, had now surrendered to the advance of a lustful man! She, Marion Stone, erstwhile flower of innocence, was now cognizant of such emotions that, even though sanctified by a marriage ceremony, were no less carnal in their implication. Married or not, she had succumbed to Herbert’s blandishments with no more compunction than had she been an outright harlot. Suddenly her lifelong training in seemly and chaste conduct manifested itself, and she felt ashamed and humiliated. She stole a glance at the reclining form of her husband and preceptor, hoping vainly that he would be so exhausted that he would have fallen asleep.
She was doomed to disappointment. With a shrinking feeling of despair she saw his eyes open and watch her with rekindled fires of lust. Reaching out, he grasped her shoulders and pulled her to him. Clutching her trembling form in his arms he stroked her milk-white backside and breasts, and eagerly his lips, still humid from their frenzied embrace on her burning crevice, sought her mouth. He murmured passionate and obscene terms of endearment, half-understood because of the double duty his lips performed.
She caught the word “screw,” recognizing it as one of the names for the sex act as revealed to her by her lascivious sister, and feeling that she could not stand another intimate ceremony with Herbert until she had had time to recollect her senses, she made imploring protest.
“Please, Herbert, not now. Oh, spare me for a little while-spare me. I’m not used to such this time. I’ll die!”
“Nonsense,” said the now thoroughly aroused Herbert. “You are not exhausted, nor are you likely to be-that is, from what I alone can do. No man can stand up against the consuming passion of a young and beautiful woman. You will be straining at the leash, so to speak, when my battering ram has curled up and died.”
Marion had opened her mouth to renew her pleasure when suddenly she felt herself being rolled over on her back. Gently but quickly her thighs were forced open and the strong body of her husband thrust itself within this lovely nook, couching itself on her shapely belly. The hardening instrument danced wildly against her genital mound, as if seeking the cavern of its own will, and Marion felt its great length searing her flesh as he strained his body to hers. This time there was no response from the girl. While a few minutes before she had begged him to storm her womb with this frightful weapon, she now was assailed with the fear that it would injure her, tear her open. She had heard that such entrance resulted in bleeding, and she saw herself in a fleeting vision, bleeding to death while the unheeding Herbert battered away with his bludgeon. She struggled ineffectually to escape from his embrace, which only grew stronger with each attempt she made for freedom.
“Oh-please, Herbert-for God’s sake, not now-I’ll-I’ll-I’ll even take it in my mouth again to satisfy you! But please, don’t enter me-the other way-at this time. Let me recover my senses.”
Herbert was unrelenting. Raising himself slightly he seized his throbbing machine with one hand and pushed its head against the moist lips of her vagina. Wet from the delicious agitation of his tongue, the crevice offered but little resistance, so far as its threshold was concerned. And, while Marion’s thighs threshed vainly to dislodge the intruder, the increased pressure of Herbert’s body decreased her ability to move except in a rising and falling motion. This movement did little to repulse the shaft, rather permitting it to embed its red head all the more firmly. Realizing this, Marion sighed with resignation and lay limp, unable to flex her muscles for the dreaded shock of the complete coupling. Excited by his success thus far, and reveling in the feel of the tightly clutched lips around his steaming engine, Herbert braced himself and made the final lunge.
With blind fury he shot the arrow to its mark, feeling it tear its way through the obstructing membrane with a kind of brutal ecstasy. Marion screamed with pain and fainted away. Unheeding her pale bloodless face, and of the lips writhing in pain, Herbert continued his goatish attack until he had spent himself. It was not until he had risen to fetch a towel from the bathroom that he became aware of her condition. Then, trembling with fright, he fell to her side, covered her face with the tenderest of kisses as he pleaded with Marion to open her eyes.
“Oh, my darling Marion, forgive me for being such a beast! I was so carried away by my desire for you that I lost my head. Oh, open your eyes and speak, my darling, and tell me that you forgive me.” Humbled now, by fear and anxiety, he covered her naked thighs with the towel, and, taking the half-conscious Marion in his arms, he implored her to show by some sign that she was not in danger. He stroked her wrists, shook her head gently, and at last, springing to his feet, tore open his handbag and brought forth a bottle of brandy that had been placed there by his thoughtful valet. A few drops of this strong liquor, forced past the girl’s lips, caused her to shudder slightly and open her eyes.
Herbert cried joyously at this evidence of life, and, taking her gently in his arms again, covered the pretty face with loving caresses. “Oh, my sweetheart, I was afraid I’d killed you. You must forgive me-I was temporarily gone mad. I have not stopped wanting you since I saw you clasped against Stan Cochrane’s naked body. You have haunted me since that moment-I could not help it.”
Marion gazed up at him with troubled eyes. She was still numb with fear and pain. The brutal entrance had given her a devastating shock, and forcing her as he had, at a time when she was filled with shame at having so lasciviously embraced his organ with her lips, the experience had given her nothing but pain. Although Herbert had inundated her with his boiling fluid, there had been no like response from her shock-ridden loins.
Herbert seemed to realize this, for he gathered the exhausted girl gently in his arms and laid her on the bed. Then, shamefaced, he placed a damp towel in her hand and went into the bathroom, feeling that Marion would appreciate the chance to attend her wound with no audience. After a safe period of waiting, during which he made his own ablutions, Herbert returned to the bedside. Marion had crawled beneath the covers. She looked up at him, saying nothing, and Herbert, seeing that she was trying to ask for temporary mercy, kissed her softly and told her to go to sleep. He too felt weakened by his two hasty losses, and was not averse to a few hours’ rest. He lay down beside the frightened girl, and. patting her reassuringly, sank into a sound sleep.
Marion awoke several hours later, at first not realizing where she was or what circumstances had brought her to the strange room. She stirred, her body coming in contact with that of Herbert, who still slept. She recoiled, starting up as if to leap from the bed. Then remembering that she had been married that afternoon, she sank back against the pillows. Lying there in the gloom of the darkened room she tried to untangle the queer jumble of thoughts that raced through her mind.
First there had been Stan, breaking down her resistance with sly arguments and bolder caresses, subjecting her to one embarrassment after another in the process by which he had awakened in her mind ideas which she would have rejected at the time of her arrival at the Dunes. Thinking back, she recalled that day when, paying no heed to her entreaties, he had exposed her body and driven her into spasms of delightful torture with his obscene caresses.
Then there had been that night when with her own sister’s cooperation she had been a witness to that act politely known as the conjugal relation. Trembling with shame and excited lust, she had shared Mildred’s bed, and, as their naked bodies fused in lascivious heat, she had thrown maidenly innocence to the wind and become as much a party to the orgy as the other participants would allow. She recalled with recurring shame the mad delight she had taken in thrusting her lips against the genitals of both Mildred and Stan as they writhed and pitched their bodies in mutual excitement.
She thought too, of the wild desires the feel of Stan’s scepter had aroused in her, and how eagerly she had looked forward to the consummation of her marriage with Herbert; how when alone with Herbert at last, and stripped of her clothing, she had confessed-yes, boasted without shame of her pre-marital initiation-and had kissed that noble weapon with all the ardour of a bacchante. Then, reminded of the shocking climax-amounting, in fact, to rape, as Herbert so rudely forced his way into her tiny crevice, impaling her helpless body until she had fainted away-she felt extreme nausea and thought for a moment that she would become ill. Her loins still ached from the recent bombardment, reminding Marion of the merciless assault, and she feared to move lest the pain increase.
At this moment Herbert awoke. He turned on his side, facing her, at first with surprise, then remembering the events of the day before, he took her gently in his arms, fondling her lovingly as he begged again for forgiveness. Pouring out words of endearment, he asked that she not be frightened by what had happened, and Marion, calmed by his tender tone, assured him that she had been as much as fault as he.
They lay thus for some time, murmuring in low voices as, still half-asleep, they exchanged mutual confessions of blame for the violence of the night before. But soon, as Marion’s seductively curved body came into closer contact with his own, Herbert felt his excitement returning, and although, to give him his due, he brought every mental exertion to bear in an attempt to dispel his carnal thoughts, his weapon refused to cooperate and came to a stand in slow, methodical jerks.
Marion was not unaware of this happening. Feeling the touch of it against her thigh, she at first thought it to be his hand, and she had shrunk from the contact. Then, noting that he held her with both arms, she gave a little cry of fear as she realized the identity of the groping object.
“Oh, Herbert-please-I can’t do it-not now. Oh, please, dearest Herbert, how can you do such a thing? Is that all men think of?”
Herbert looked at her with an astonishment that was not wholly simulated, then he laughed softly, reassuringly.
“Why, Marion, darling, I assure you that the disturbance you feel down there is not due to any deliberate thought of my own. The rascal is merely responding of his own accord. You see, my dear, a man’s self-control has its limitations. To take you again at this time, while you are sore and exhausted, is furthest from my mind. Nevertheless, that stiffening brute is not equipped with a conscience. He knows only that he is within reach of an adorable resting place, and, despite anything I feel, will not be satisfied until he comes to his goal.”
“But-you’re not going to-let him have his way, are you, Herbert?” Marion asked timorously. The now throbbing monster scraped menacingly against her thigh, and, thinking to ward off any sudden attack it might make, she grasped it timidly but firmly in her hand. The touch of the pulsing organ quickened her breath, and, although she shrank from the thought of it once more tearing into her vitals, she could not resist the desire to feel its smooth hardness, to caress it with tingling fingers.
“You’re not helping to allay its hunger, you know,” Herbert protested. “If you continue that delightful manipulation, the poor fellow might break loose, and if that happens, my darling Marion, I cannot be held responsible for what happens next.”
Marion jerked her hand away, but almost immediately she had seized it again, this time cupping her fingers over the ruddy tip. Suddenly she was trembling with a wild desire, and, fighting to shake it from her mind, she buried her face against Herbert’s shoulder, but at the same time strengthening rather than loosening her grip upon the impatient bludgeon. She began to sob.
Herbert patted her shoulders, soothingly. “Why, what’s the matter, sweetheart? There’s nothing to be afraid of. I promise that I will not let the horny scoundrel loose upon your charming nook until you give full consent.”
Marion continued to weep. Then, half-audibly, she blurted out her confession. “Oh, Herbert, I do want it-the very touch of it sets me on fire. But you were so rough when you put it in there. It wasn’t at all like when you-when you put your-!”
He could not here the rest, but he guessed her meaning. “I understand, darling,” he said. “And you want me to repeat that delicate caress? Well, I’m not against such a proposal. In fact it gives me great pleasure to titillate your rosy little button with my lips. But you must realize that such a procedure only makes more ravenous the appetite of that monster which you have now leashed in your pretty little fingers. Unless you are willing to reciprocate as you did before, I am afraid that my kissing the adorable little nest will ruin my good intentions.”
Marion did not answer-with words. He felt her grip tighten on his raging tool as with a little cry she slipped from his arms. Before he knew what had happened she had thrown back the covers, bringing the object into full view, as well as their nude bodies, and, reversing her position with one quick whirling motion, she had sheathed his giant pole in her flaming lips. Nor did Herbert have to reach for his share of this feast. Yoking his neck with her shapely thighs, she thrust her silt squarely against his mouth, and his tongue darted forth to give it greeting. Mouth to sex, the two figures writhed on the bed in a jumble of arms and legs. Gone now from Marion’s mind was all restraint, all shame. As the stiffened organ responded to her lewd ministrations, she thought of nothing but of drawing forth its liquid, of feeling the hot gush flow into her eager throat.
Thus they spent the remainder of the day, Marion exhibiting a nymphomaniacal greed that would scarcely allow Herbert time to rest between bouts. Her face was flushed with unsatiated passion, and, even as they ate the meal that had been ordered at Herbert’s insistence, the corrupted Marion toyed with the thing that gave her such pleasure. She talked in a gabble of obscene, senseless endearments, as though she confused everything with the act she came to regard as the culmination of ardor. Three times during the afternoon she repeated it, and, when at last Herbert’s staff failed to respond to her darting tongue, he began to fear that Marion had gone insane from lust.
He sought to distract her from this relentless pursuit by a joking reference to her capacity for enjoyment. “Really, my dear Marion, I’m afraid that one man is not enough for you. Surely, if your attachment for this new-found delicacy continues at this rate, I’ll be too weak to move. Why, look what you’ve done to my poor prick.” He glanced ruefully at the now shrunken organ, lying flaccidly against his leg. “Why, it is utterly exhausted. I venture that nothing could bring it to attention for at least twenty-fours hours-not even if a lovely young virgin were to walk into the room and place herself at my disposal.”
Herbert’s words were by no means as casually impromptu as they sounded. Within his mind there had been for some time the desire to be a witness to Marion’s participation in carnal pleasure with another man, remembering Harry Hamilton’s strange delight in watching him as he plunged with incestuous rapture atop the body of his sister. He had dismissed the first feeling of horror he had had concerning amiable cuckoldry, and for some time he speculated upon the chances of persuading Marion to give herself to another man in his presence.
Marion, too, had found herself entertaining similar thoughts. With her husband’s once rigid tool shrunk to flabby impotence, her mind had once again begun to see visions of Stan Cochrane’s muscular body, and all the unsatisfied longing she had experienced during that night when Stan, with his peculiar moral code, had refused to take her virginity, now returned. Cannily, she now saw a chance to bring up a subject that she hoped would win approval from Herbert.
“How about Mildred?” she asked boldly. “Do you think that Mildred’s lovely nakedness would arouse that shrivelled thing?”
“Perhaps so,” Herbert said, his interest aroused by the idea. “But surely Stan would object. And how about Mildred? I have heard that for all her flirting around-her kissing other men and even letting them gaze upon her charms-that she is as faithful as any man could demand. I doubt very much, therefore, if she would be amenable to such a proposal. Besides,” he added, watching her covertly, “what would you think of such a thing? Would you share your husband with a woman-with your sister?”
“If it would make you happy, darling, I would not object. I think I would enjoy a chance to revenge myself upon Stan by aiding in a scheme to persuade Mildred to unfaithfulness. After all, he is to blame for the state you see me in. Before I met him I was a pure and unsullied young girl. It was his continual goading and persuasion that has brought me to this state.”
“And what about your own passion?” Herbert asked. Secretly his mind was jubilant at the evident willingness Marion had shown thus far. “Would you perhaps seek similar enjoyment with Stan? Is that it? Do you not think that, in fairness to Stan, he should be allowed to have his way with you? That is, if I take his wife, should he not be permitted to have mine in exchange?”
Marion’s heart leaped at the thought, but she managed to remain casual in manner as she answered: “That depends entirely upon you and Stan, dear.”
“Very well, then,” he replied. “I shall have Mildred for a night, and you shall have Stan. Shall we return to the Dunes, or shall we telephone them and ask them to come here-for a celebration of our marriage?”
“I think that would be best for them to come here,” Marion replied. “You know, there are so many people continually dropping in at their place, we might be discovered. I’ll call Mildred at once.”
Eager with anticipation of the denouement of this strange pact, Marion picked up the telephone from the bedside table, and, after giving instructions to the operator for the long-distance call, she waited with unconcealed impatience for the connection to be made.
In a few minutes Marion was speaking to Mildred, telling her to come with Stan up to the city at once. She refused to discuss details or answer Mildred’s puzzled inquiry, saying only that she and Herbert planned to celebrate and that Mildred and Stan must come.
Herbert’s body tingled with renewed desire as he heard that Mildred had accepted the invitation. When Marion returned the telephone to the table, he took her in his arms and squeezed her lovingly. “Ah, my darling, I’m happy to see that, despite your upbringing, you’ve quickly adapted yourself to the pleasures of sex. There is nothing, after all, in our plan, that is loathsome. Variety is the spice of life and I’m sure that many marriages that go on the rocks because of infidelity would turn out to be ideal relationships if the husbands and wives would enter into such agreements as ours. For while I love you very much, and am greatly excited by your charms, still I am not immune to a temporary longing to enjoy another woman. And if I do it, why shouldn’t you? After all, a woman has the same right to a change as has a man.”
So, lying in restful ease, they planned a suitable reception for their coming guests.
In less than two hours there was a knock at the door. Marion had told Mildred that they were to come directly to the room, and had given her the number. And, although this had in some way aroused Mildred’s curiosity, neither she nor Stan were prepared for what awaited them.
Entering the room as the door swung open, their first sight was of Herbert lying naked on the bed, with not even a towel to hide his now erect weapon.
“What the hell, Allison!” Stan said in surprise. “Isn’t this rather an unconventional way to greet your sister-in-law and her husband?” He stared at the reclining figure, too dumbfounded to move from his tracks. Then he was caught about the neck by a pair of soft feminine arms, and one of his hands, raised involuntarily, felt itself in contact with a plump and wonderfully molded female breast. Looking down at his captor, he beheld Marion, similarly bare of clothing, her belly and thighs pressed tightly against his own. “What is this?” he gasped. “Am I crazy or are you people crazy?”
Still holding to him, Marion answered: “What? Have you forgotten your boast, made only night before last, that you would give me a good dose of that elixir of yours the first chance you had after my marriage?”
Stan glanced uncertainly toward the grinning Herbert, who still lay on the bed, his pole rearing, as he watched the proceedings. Stan could think of nothing to say.
“It’s all right, Cochrane,” Herbert reassured him. “It’s a mutual agreement. Marion told me that you had promised to assist me in my marital duties, and I thought it an excellent idea. In fact, it seemed such an excellent idea that I thought perhaps we could work out an arrangement whereby we could each help the other.” He glanced meaningfully at Mildred, who, like Stan, stood rooted to the floor, but focusing her gaze upon that prominently displayed instrument rather than upon the fair pirate who held her husband in such lascivious embrace.
As the full import of this amazing plan became clear to the newly arrived couple, they looked questioningly at each other.
Stan spoke first. “Why, it is a mad thing-it’s barbaric!” he stammered, his attempt to put up a protective front considerably bungled inasmuch as his arms held such an intoxicating burden.
Mildred showed little disposition to agree with Stan. The sight of Herbert’s formidable sex had roused her to the utmost, and she had no idea of refusing such an opportunity. “This is a poor time to become the outraged husband, Stan. You know that you’re dying to have a piece of Marion-in fact, you have already had intimacies with her, with me looking on. What’s the harm of it so long as we are all here together? I’ve never denied you a new piece for a change, so why should you adopt a holier-than-thou attitude?”
Stan heard the words with elation. He was not averse to the scheme at all, but he had been afraid that Mildred would refuse. Now, seeing her willingness, he swooped the naked Marion into his arms and carried her to the hitherto unoccupied twin bed. Depositing her there, he began tearing off his clothes.
Mildred, with a frenzied laugh, cried: “I’ll beat you to it!” and with one movement slipped her dress over her head, leaving her entirely nude except for a pair of lace panties, stockings, and shoes. In one jump she was on the other bed with Herbert, and he, trembling with excitement, pulled her down on him, his free hand ripping off the panties to expose her beautiful curved buttocks.
Mildred pressed her belly against the throbbing giant, feeling a million separate thrills racing against her body at the touch. “Oh, Herbert, what a lucky girl Marion is! It’s so big! Stan’s is capable enough, but this thing is huge! It’s enough to split a girl open-how did you even get it in her anyway?”
“I think that is the basic reason for your receiving this invitation,” Herbert said, laughing. “It happens to be a little too large for an unbroken young woman. In fact, it hurt Marion’s darling little cunny very much-so much, to tell the truth, that I thought I had best let Stan limber it up with his somewhat smaller dong before I attempted it again.”
This was, of course, a remark intended to arouse Stan’s jealousy, but if he heard it he paid no heed. Already Marion’s legs were spread wide, exposing her furry nest to his ardent embraces. Stan’s tool, less clublike than Herbert’s, was nevertheless of adequate dimensions to give any normally proportioned receptacle a tight fit, and Marion held it joyously in her fingers as her partner bent to that tidbit he enjoyed so much. But the feel of the sleek serpent gave her such anticipatory thrills that the gentler pleasure, exciting as it was, did not suffice. So, pulling her greedy lips from their feast, she begged him to try the orthodox way.
With a glance at the already writhing figures on the opposite bed, Stan lay himself between Marion’s open thighs, bringing his heaving tool against the curly nest of hair rimming the moistened slit. Spreading its lips, he inserted the tip into that delicious cavern, and, as they both uttered little cries of pleasure, slipped it gently home.
Marion groaned in delight as she felt the rod gliding in. Herbert was right, she thought, even if he had been joking. Stan’s tool was much more suitable for a tight entrance than was that gigantic thing with which Herbert had almost torn her open. Grasping his buttocks to gain the last fraction of an inch, Marion tossed her body upward to meet each thrust of the charger. Their lips glued together, she licked madly with her tongue as he had taught her to do that day on the beach. Unmindful of the fact that Herbert, despite his perch atop the lustful Mildred, let his eyes wander to watch her at intervals, Marion squirmed and pitched beneath her mount until at last, with a luxurious sigh of fulfillment, she reached the climax. Stan outlasted her but one thrust, for the next instant she felt the inundation within her crevice as the dam burst.
They lay, temporarily exhausted, unmoving save for the several involuntary quiverings that came as an aftermath to the furious ride. After an interval of several minutes Marion was reminded of the fact that here was still another ring in this lewd circus, and, turning her head, she saw that Mildred and Herbert were still at it. Herbert’s face was flushed, his lips were taut, and it was in other ways evident that he was having difficulty in unburdening himself.
Although Mildred was doing her utmost, with wild wigglings of her delicious bottom, and although Herbert was excited almost beyond endurance, he could not reach a climax. The several attacks he had suffered that morning from the insatiable Marion had completely exhausted his seminal glands, and the result was that, although Mildred had spent three times under the ministrations of that gallant and willing organ which plowed her burning crevice, poor Herbert could arrive at no such blissful destination. Still he lunged and pitched, unwilling to cry “Enough!”
Marion, inexperienced though she was, guessed the trouble, and with one leap she was to the rescue. Crouching on the bed behind the two pairs of gyrating buttocks, she bent her face and lips to that spot where the frenzied bodies were coupled. Tugging at Herbert’s thighs she pulled him upward far enough to break this lubricious connection, and, although Mildred protested at this unwelcomed intrusion, Marion paid no heed.
Herbert, catching the meaning of Marion’s movements, turned halfway on his side to give the new attacker more room in which to work. Without further ceremony Marion took the sturdy prong, still humid from the anointing it had received from the passionate Mildred, and, with dexterous movements of her pointed tongue, labored to bring from it one more gust of dew. The experiment was not without success, for soon Herbert began to breathe fast and then he cried, “Oh, baby, that’s bringing it!”
Hearing this Mildred leaned forward and began pushing Marion in an attempt to recapture the tidbit for herself, but Marion was not so easily disposed of. She clung doggedly to the now thoroughly revived stem, thrusting it all the way back in her throat.
“Oh, you pig!” cried Mildred. “Very well, then, if I can’t have it all, I’ll have something better.” So saying she squirmed from under Herbert and, pushing him flat on his back, bestrode his chest in such a manner that her steaming nest was immediately against his face. Herbert, not one to scorn such an invitation, soon was giving her what she desired, and with evident satisfaction.
At this juncture, Stan stirred himself and, seeing that he was being deprived of his share of the feast, arose and joined the others.
“What’s going on here?” he cried in mock anger. “Do you love birds think that I am out of the running? If you do, look at this.” Mildred alone of the three could “look” without interfering with her pleasure, and she did. What she saw made her cry out with delight.
“Get up here, pet,” she said, “where I can attend to mother’s little lamb! Mamma will kiss it and make it sleep.”
Stan did not need to be invited twice, and half-standing he leaned down to bring his steel-hard engine in range of the already gaping lips. Mildred, driven to ecstatic distraction by the snake-like invader between her thighs, closed her mouth upon the ruby tipped protuberance. The four bodies squirmed in obscene enjoyment, until, one by one, with but an instant between sighs of bliss, they reached the end.