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The Great Blizzard Of 1967


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All bets are off when a brother and his sister spend three days trapped by a blizzard.

Chapter 1

I hadn't seen most of my family in years. After my wife of twenty years died, I went into semi-seclusion. I moved to the West Coast and bought a condominium on the Pacific. However, when I heard about my great aunt’s death, I decided to attend the services. She lived a long and full life. Most of her siblings had gone before her.

Her funeral was like all funerals. It was a mixture of tears, and funny reminisces. It also served as a get reacquainted opportunity for her relatives.

The assemblage was large. My great aunt had a large extended family, and most of them chose to attend to pay a final homage to the grand dame of the family. Afterward, A few close family members assembled at my great aunt’s home for the last repast in her honor.

I was balancing a plate of Hors d’oeuvres in one hand and an adult beverage in the other when I heard someone call my name.

“Joel Vincent! How are you doing? Get your ass over here!”

I turned and saw my sister, Joyce Adams, sitting on a couch. I placed the paper plate and drink on the lamp table next to me, and stooped to embrace her.

“Joyce! It has been too long. How are you?”

“I’m doing fine for an old woman. Come on, sit on the couch with me and let's catch up.”

Joyce had not changed much in the ten years since the last time I saw her. She was still a big woman. She stood about 5’ 8” and maybe 180 pounds. The once substantial breasts hung heavy on her chest now. She wore a simple black below the knee frock with a white Peter Pan collar. Her stockings were the opaque support kind, ending in sensible Cuban heel shoes.

“Where’s Henry?” I asked, giving the room a perfunctory scan. They were both seventy and married for over forty years. He was never one of my favorite people though he was calmer than he had been early in their marriage.

“Find the bar, and you’ll find Henry.”

I laughed as a niece brought Joyce a drink. She gave me a rueful smile and took a deep draught.

“When are you going to marry again? It’s not too late, you know.”

The last time I saw her was ten years ago when my wife Jill died.

“I’m waiting for you, Sis! You know you are the only woman for me.”

We both laughed and held each other’s eyes for a moment. Joyce leaned in and conspiratorially dropped her voice.

“Now THAT would have caused a scandal.”

“Yes,” I said nodding, “Although we would have to move somewhere it snows a lot.”

Joyce laughed and clapped her hand on my thigh as she drained her glass. She looked around, spotted her niece, and held up the empty glass for a refill. I gave my glass to the niece also.

“Lord, that was hot!” She squeezed my knee.

We both reflected for a moment. It all started with the Great Blizzard of 1967.

*

I was twenty years old, working as an order picker for a now defunct mail order house. Back then you got this massive catalog by going to the store fronting the warehouse or having one mailed to you. You picked out your item, filled out the information and mailed it in. Some poor bastard picked your order, packaged it, and mailed to you. I was that poor bastard, an order picker.

Back in the day, it was hard physical work. The warehouse was too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter. There was no, that is zero, automation. You got your happy butt on a forklift and found the area where the item was stored. Then you would pull it and take it to a packing area. Depending on the season, and how busy it was, you and/or a helper packed and shipped the order.

It was hard physical work. However, it paid enough for a twenty-year-old to have a kitchenette apartment. For the uninitiated, a kitchenette was a single room with a small area for cooking, a narrow two-chair table and a bed that folded into the wall, a Murphy bed. The shared bathroom was down the hall.

I was in hog heaven. I’d work my 3-11 shift and head to the clubs afterward. There, if I were lucky, I’d pull a girl to take her back to my flat for a little horizontal mambo.

Joyce was thirty at the time, a boozer and married. She and Henry shared a love of alcohol, fighting, and sex. They would get shitfaced, get into an argument, then fuck and make up. Sometimes they only completed the first two legs of the three-legged stool. They would get drunk, fight, and one or the other would storm out, only to return at some point to complete the third leg.

“Lawd, we ain’t never had snow like that since then.”

“Thank god for that. I’m too old for that shit now.”

Joyce chuckled and squeezed my thigh again.

“The snow or what happened because of it?” she asked.

“Both,” I laughed, placing my hand on her thigh and giving it a squeeze.

 

Chapter 2

It was snowing hard that cold January night. The snow accumulated faster than the snow plows could handle. Gradually they fell behind.

In fact, the blizzard was historic. The city ground to a halt. The blizzard trapped people at work, on buses, in airports, etc. I left work at 11 and managed to get home in the wee hours of the morning.

I went down the hall, washed up and went back to my room. Fortunately, I had a case of Schlitz beer, a fifth of Christian Brothers brandy, and assorted snacks to eat. The beer was warm but what the hell! I could ride out the storm.

I settled in to listen to music on the radio and get shitfaced. The DJ had just announced that a state of emergency was declared and travel was not recommended when my doorbell rang. I pushed the button on the intercom and my sister, Joyce, announced she was downstairs. I buzzed her in.

She was a mess. She and her husband completed two legs of that stool. They got into an argument. She stormed out of the house. She walked the eight or so blocks in thigh-deep snow from her place to mine. Her clothes were soaked through. She was cold, shivering and blubbering.

*

“I’m surprised I didn’t catch pneumonia. Hell, I walked a mile in that deep snow to get to your place. Everything I had was wet.”

“Everything?” I teased

Joyce slapped me on my thigh and chuckled. “THAT,” she said, glancing around the room, “Was cold also. But we warmed it up.”

*

I gave her a towel, one of my t-shirts and sent her down the hall to the bathroom. Joyce was not a small girl. I have no idea what her measurements were then. However, I do know that the Pillsbury Doughboy would look svelte next to her. Suffice it to say she was a big ass, big tit Black woman. My shirt barely covered her ass in the back and exposed her hairy pussy in front. She wrapped the towel around her waist to cover herself.

When she returned from the bathroom, I gave her a beer and three fingers of brandy in a water glass. We drank, and I commiserated with her about her lousy husband. Several times I refilled her glass and gave her another beer. At some point, we were shitfaced. The commiseration turned to hugging for comfort. Hugging for comfort turned to cuddling in my overheated kitchenette.

We sat on the bed with Joyce’s head resting on my shoulder. My hand was on her thigh. She still wore my t-shirt with a towel draped over her thighs for modesty. Her clothes were on the radiator drying. I began to stroke her thigh pushing the towel up as I did.

Alcohol and isolation lowered our inhibitions. I felt the heat of Joyce’s pussy as my hand pushed up her thigh. At first, she went with it. She cried softly, her hand caressing my bare chest. Suddenly she pushed my hand away.

"Stop feeling me up, Joel! I'm your sister!" Her lopsided grin belied her words.

"Shit, Joyce!" I waved my arm expansively at the winter wonderland just outside my fourth-floor apartment. "This may be the storm that signals the end of the world."

"Yeah right! You just want to get laid, and your sister is the only available pussy."

She and I had some candid sexual conversations over the years. She was an older sister slash confidant. In fact, she was the one who filled in the blanks after my father stumbled through a textbook with pictures when we had "The Talk."

She continued grinning drunkenly at me as I pushed the t-shirt up exposing her large breasts. They were full and plump, extending outside the frame of her body. Her nipples were like hard wrinkled raisins. I kneaded them while leaning down and taking her turgid nipple in my mouth. My sister sighed. She brought one hand up and stroked the back of my head.

My hand roamed her body. I slipped it back between her legs. I slid it up her warm thighs until I touched her pussy. I slid my index finger up and down her wet pulsating hole. Joyce sucked a long sibilant breath.

Her free hand rubbed up and down on my boxers. She pulled my cock from my boxers and stroked me. “We’re going to burn in hell for doing this!”

Joyce leaned back against the headboard. Her breathing was harsh, coming in big gasps. I began kissing my way down her body. I tongued her navel while finger fucking her pussy. Her large hips pumped spasmodically up and down. Suddenly, she stiffened and pushed me away.

"Joel, we need to stop. I'm drunk but not that drunk!"

“Aww, sis!” My cock was painfully rigid.

She pushed my head away from her navel. With her other hand, she grasped my hand and pulled it from between her thighs. In the growing darkness, my finger glistened with her wetness. The tight confines of my one-room apartment were redolent with the aroma of her arousal.

“Aww sis, my ass. We need to get some sleep and sober up! No way I’m going to fuck my younger brother” My cock stuck through the slit of my shorts. It bobbed and pulsed. “And put that damn thing away!”

I stuffed my cock back in my boxers and lay down on the bed. I pulled the sheet over me and turned to face the wall. “I’m going to sleep.”

Joyce lay down and spooned me. She threw her arm over my waist. “Stop sulking,” she laughed, “and good night!”

Sometime during the night, we rolled over, and I was spooning her. My head lay against her warm back. My hand was across her waist. Slowly, tentatively, I cupped her breast. She sighed and wriggled her butt against my hard on but didn’t wake up.

I felt the scratch of her pubic hair against my cock. I slowly dry humped her ass, my cock sliding up and down the pillows of her bare ass. Joyce leaned forward slightly. My cock slid down. The heat and wetness of her pussy were against my cockhead. I leaned back and pressed forward. Joyce sighed as my tool slid effortlessly into her hole.

The first time your cock slides into a new pussy is always different. There's a different feel, a distinct smell, etc. That first time my cock slid into my sister's love canal was all of that and more. There was a sense of forbidden fruit. It was my older sister's pussy.

There was enough of a gap between our ages that we never had the usual sibling rivalries. She was an adult, married and gone by the time I reached puberty. There were no latent sexual interests. She was an adult, to be respected and avoided because they asked embarrassing questions about your sex life.

We were both drunk, and it was a long time ago. The details are fuzzy. I do recall the tightness of Joyce’s pussy, the whimper deep in her throat as I penetrated her. I gripped her hips, pulling her into my thrusting cock. Her whimpers turned to guttural moans.

Unfortunately, I was like a drunken energizer bunny. I pumped hard and fast into her pussy. The slap of flesh on flesh echoed in the tight confines of my kitchenette apartment.

"Easy, Joel, Easy! Take your…! Oh, fuck!"

I popped, squirting a geyser of youthful sperm into my mature sister's pussy. Afterward, I leaned on her back as my cock slowly softened. It fell from her pussy followed by my cum.

"Sorry," I murmured.

“It’s okay, baby! Let’s get some sleep.”

 

Chapter 3

"I'm glad you learned to go slow," Joyce chuckled. "That first time, just when I was getting into fucking you, it was over."

"Stop! You know I got better control later on!" Surreptitiously I squeezed her thigh.

She placed her hand over mine and patted it. "Yeah, you did," she murmured. “I don’t want it to go to your head, but even after all of these years, those three days were my best sexual experience ever.”

“It was incredible, “I said. “Did you ever tell anyone?”

“Lord no! How does that come up in a conversation? I mean while you’re discussing politics or a recipe you say, ‘by the way, I spent three days fucking my brother during the blizzard.’

“I told Jill.”

Joyce sat up and turned toward me. “What did she say?”

“She was understanding. She said it was a natural occurrence caused by the feeling of being cut off from the world. She also asked if it ever happened again… after the snowstorm.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I lied!”

Joyce took a sip of her drink, eyeing me over the rim of her glass. “What do you drink now?”

“Martell rocks!”

“I remember that cheap brandy and Schlitz beer! Do they still make that stuff?”

“God, I don’t know!”

“They should,” Joyce chuckled, “I think either it or the brandy was an aphrodisiac.”

“We didn’t need an aphrodisiac. We were young, dumb and full of cum. Cold stone sober we would have done the same thing.”

“Keep your voice down,” Joyce said sotto voce, “We don’t want all these people to know we what we did. Especially Henry!”

*

Thirty inches of snow covered the city. Blizzard force winds created four-feet-high drifts.

I guess at this point, I should say that having broken the ice, we went at it like bunnies on an aphrodisiac. We did not.

We were embarrassed the next morning. Joyce put her coat on over naked body and went down the hall to clean up.

On the way back, she used the pay phone in the hall to call Henry to pick her up. It wasn’t going to happen. He was glad she was safe. His car was snowed in. He told her to stay there until the roads were cleared.

When she came back, we had “The Talk.” The gist of it was what we did was wrong. Even though she and her husband fought, she never cheated on him. We were brother and sister, etc., etc., etc. We can never do that again. Tell no one. We promised over a nip of brandy and a couple of beers.

 

Chapter 4

“You know, I still haven’t fuck anybody else.”

We watched Henry move across the living room with some cousins. He raised his glass to us as he passed through.

“Is that from loyalty or lack of opportunity?”

“You know, I really don’t know! If I wanted to stroke your ego, I’d say that what we did was so good, I was afraid I could not duplicate it.”

“Yeah right,” I laughed stroking her thigh through her black frock.

“No really,” her tone was serious. She turned and looked me in the eye. “Those were an amazing three days.”

*

Cabin fever set in. To kill time, we drank and talked. At some point, we got into a giggling conversation about how quick I came. I took exception, pointing out we were both drunk. She teased me asking if my girlfriends complain about my hair trigger. We get to tussling on the bed and…!

I pinned her to the bed with her arms above her head and my legs entwined with hers forcing them open. Her eyes grew wide, and she struggled. I moved my hips up and down, rubbing my cock along her increasingly dripping hole.

"Stop, dammit! You know we can't do this."

Something about her protest did not seem genuine. Even as she struggled under me, her hips ground against my crotch. Later she would tell me that she and Henry were into light bondage. She liked to be restrained and taken.

I used one hand to grip her face. I leaned down and forced my tongue between her moist parted lips. For a moment, she gave herself up to the moment. Her tongue dueled with mine. Then she turned her head away.

“Let me up. We can’t do this.”

“Yes, we can and we will.”

I rubbed the head of my cock up and down her swollen slit. Again, her eyes widened. Her tongue snaked out and moistened her lips.

“I’m married. I’m your sister. I…!”

The head of my cock slid between her engorged pussy lips Joyce’s hips pump up taking more of my cock into her pussy stopped and I pulled back.

"I’m still your younger brother,” I teased, “are you sure you want to do this?"

“You bastard,” she spat at me. Her hips rotated slowly moving up and down my cock.

“You said we shouldn’t do this.”

"You know you're an asshole, right?"

“I’m the asshole whose dick you want!”

“Joel! Either fuck me or get the fuck up!”

I sank effortlessly into her dripping wet pussy. We silently stared at each other as we slowly ground our hips together. My sister's pussy was amazing. I could feel it pulsing, almost caressing my cock.

"Oh fuck! Keep moving just like that. I love the feeling of your cock sliding in me."

“Mmmm, I love that thing you do with your pussy.”

Joyce flexed her Kegel muscles, drawing my cock into her then pushing it back. “You mean that?”

“Yes,” I hissed, “That feels amazing.”

We settled into a slow, languid rhythm, thrusting and grinding. Our kisses were long and wet. Our tongues found a home in each other’s mouths.

“I love how your cock fills me. I can feel it sliding slowly through my cunt.”

I leaned down, took her turgid nipple in my mouth. I nibbled lightly and sucked hard. Joyce locked her legs around my back forming a cradle. She rocked us back and forth. Her hands held my head to her breast.

I raised up and looked into her lust distorted face. "Better this time?"

Joyce snarl of lust turned to a smirk. "Yes! You are an asshole! Much better!"

"You keep calling me an asshole, and I'm going to flip you over and take yours!"

"You fuck my ass as good as you fuck my pussy and I may never go home!"

“Now?” I’d never fucked anally. Some of the guys talked about it. I suspected it was all brag and no fact.

“No! Just keeping fucking me for now.” She closed her eyes. Her thrusting against me grew more urgent. The squishy sounds of hard cock in wet pussy filled the room. I felt her pussy spasm, clamping down on my tool.

Joyce’s body began to tremble and shake. Her hands fell from my neck to the bed. Her fingers clawed at the sheet as her hips thrust violently.

“Oh fuck! FUCK! FUCK! I’m cumming!”

Her convulsing pussy clamped and I came with her. We thrust against each other. I pumped my baby batter deep in my sister’s womb. Our howls of lust would have woken the dead.

After we lay in each other’s arms. We kissed long and slow. Joyce pulled her head back and looked into my eyes. “What if my husband finds out,” she moaned. "What if mom finds out?”

“I hadn’t planned on telling Henry, mom or dad.”

She giggled.” Neither did I! But you know what I mean. What if someone finds out.”

“Knowing our parents and what an idiot your husband is, they would disown us.”

“So, you’re saying it would just be you and me, and we could do this all of the time? Where’s the phone,” she laughed.

With brief breaks to eat and use the bathroom, fucked all day. So help me god, we just ground our crotches together and stared at each other. Joyce had a trick she did where she could flex her Kegel muscles, tightening her pussy. It felt incredible.

 

Chapter 5

“Joel, at seventy, I still get wet when I remember that day.”

“Joyce!” I exclaimed in disbelief.

“Gawddamit! I do! Henry can’t get it up anymore. But I’m still up for a good ride. Want to try me out?”

Her hand slipped up my thigh and bumped against my cock. I glanced around the room. For the most part, we were being ignored… Just two old farts recalling their better days.

Nervously looking around, I pushed the material of her dress between her legs. I squeezed her pussy through her dress. Through her thick spectacles, her eyes took on a dreamy look.

“You still like your nipples sucked and nibbled on?” I whispered as I made sure no one was looking

“I can’t count the times I came while Henry and I were fucking and I thought about us fucking slow and you sucking my nipples.”

"So, you thought about me while fucking your husband?" Joyce’s legs parted. I squeezed harder. She pushed my hand away and straightened her clothes.

“You know when I really thought about you? It was when Henry and I sixty-nined. I would recall us laying head to toe licking and kissing each other.” She shivered, wrapping her arms over her chest.

“You tasted amazing! Your pussy was wet and creamy. The smell was just… mind blowing!”

“We must have sity-nined for hours. Your cock would soften, and I’d suck it hard again. Your tongue in my pussy was...!”

“Auntie Joyce! Uncle Joel! Can I refresh your drinks?”

We both jumped, as though we were caught in flagrante delicto. In a way, we were.

“Yes dear! Thank you. Joel, you want another?”

I nodded and handed the niece my glass. I watched as her full hips swayed as she moved away from us. Joyce slapped my thigh.

“You dirty old man!”

“I’m guilty! Sue me!”

“If you came in a girl that young, you would make a baby.” She paused. “Just like you did in me.”

I turned and looked at her. She stared back unflinching.

“So how is Jennifer doing?”

“She’s fine! Two kids and one on the way. The woman can’t stop having babies!”

“Just like her mother! You and Henry had four.”

“Henry and I had three,” Joyce said quietly. "I have to pee. I hope this bathroom is better than the one you had.”

Joyce grabbed her cane and levered herself up using my thigh. When I tried to stand and help her, she waved me off.

 

Chapter 5

The next morning, we breakfasted in bed naked. We were comfortable with our nakedness. Having sex added a layer of familiarity. We made small talk about the weather, the family, and her relationship with her husband.

Joyce stood and walked to the window. “It’s a fucking winter wonderland out there! As far as you can see, it's snow-covered. And the air is so clear!”

I walked over to where she leaned on the windowsill. I leaned over and kissed her back.

“It’s like there’s nobody in the world except you and me, Joyce.” I kissed down her back, ending at her ass. I kissed each cheek.

“Mmmm! That feels good! Let’s fuck right here, staring out at the beauty of this winter wonderland. Mother Nature has given us this interlude. Let’s use it.”

I lined my cock up with her hole and slid in. I knew her pussy better now. I knew what she wanted, how fast I should go when to go more quickly.

She gasped as I took long deep strokes. I’d bottom out against her cervix and then pull back until the head of my cock was just covered by her wet engorged cunt lips. Her large ass framed her hole. Her pussy hair was wet and matted against her labia.

“Does that feel good, sis?”

“God yes! Don’t stop! Smack my ass! Smack it hard!”

I raised my hand and brought it down hard.

“Oh yes! Fuck yes! Do it again!”

I did! Repeatedly! Foam built around her hole. It covered my cock and pubic hair.

“You should see how wet you are! Your pussy is foaming!”

“It’s your cock! Your incredible pussy satisfying cock!”

We came together, groaning and whimpering, overcome by the intensity of our orgasms. Joyce turned and sat on the windowsill. She wrapped her legs around my waist, leaned forward and kissed me.

"It feels weird kissing you."

"What the fuck!" Joyce tried to push me away.

"No! No," I laughed. "I meant you are one of the adults and my sister. It just seems weird kissing you."

"And it doesn't feel weird fucking your sister? Move! I need to clean up. How much do you cum anyway? I’m overflowing!"

Again, she used her big winter coat as a robe and padded to the bathroom down the hall. When she came back, she said she ran into a lady from another room. The woman said she was alone and would welcome some company. Her husband was trapped at work like tens of thousands of others. However, she had some reefer if we were interested.

After I cleaned up, we grabbed a couple of beers, I poured some brandy in a glass and went visiting. My cousin put on a pair of my boxers and wore her winter coat

Her name was Emma. I never got her age. However, she was White and kicking the hell out of fifty. She was as tall as Joyce but thin and angular. She wore a non-descript faded knee length cotton robe and cloth slippers.

Her rat’s nest of red-brown hair was heavily shot with grey. I would put her hairstyle as “Just got out of bed” chic. She had the rheumy eyes and sallow skin of a heavy drinker.

The reefer was the bomb! We toked, drank the beers, and took turns sipping from the water glass of brandy. I was sitting on the bed pleasantly buzzed while the women sat at the narrow table. Emma had her legs crossed with one ankle on her a knee.

We had one of those pointless meandering conversations that you only have when you are under the influence of alcohol, drugs or, in our case, both. Emma was careless about how she sat. As she twisted and turned, I caught glimpses of a hairy pussy. After two days of Joyce and I fucking and sucking, I was surprised when I got a chubby. Emma caught me looking.

“Boy, you’ll go blind if you keep trying to peep under my robe.”

“Pull it up, so I don’t have to peep,” Alcohol/reefer high encouraged me.

“Your wife wouldn’t like that.”

Joyce and I never understood what prevented us from correcting her, but we did not. Emme took our silence as an okay

“Go ahead and pull it up if you want.” My semi-hard cock hardened.

“Are you okay with this, Joyce?”

There were a few minutes of conversation. The gist of it was Emma wanted to be sure that it was ok with Joyce if she did it. Finally, hiked it up.

Emma was thin and tall. Handling heavy boxes at work kept me in decent shape. My two arms together were probably larger than her thighs. However, she had this large hairy meaty pussy. The lips poked through her furry mat like the exaggerated lips on a clown.

I was high enough to be bold. I dropped to my knees between the bed and the table. I’m not sure if it was Emma’s slow reflexes or her willingness, but before she could react, I was between her boney thighs, my tongue probing her hole.

She grabbed my head. She rocked back against the wall with the chair supporting her on one side. I tried to climb into her wet pussy head first, my tongue leading the way.

“Oh shit! You pussy eating motherfucker!”

My hands were on her thighs for support. She held my head in a death grip. Her pussy was creamy but not as wet as Joyce’s. Joyce got up and sidled behind and around me. She leaned over the back of Emma’s chair and unbuttons her robe.

Joyce pulled back Emma’s robe exposing her surprisingly large breasts. They sat on her chest like two large blue veined cream colored melons. The stems of those melons were her coral raisin-like nipples. They were hard as rocks.

 

Chapter 6

I watched Joyce came back across the room. She seemed to be leaning heavier on her cane than she was earlier. A few people stopped her, and she chatted with them. Finally, she broke free and came across the room to where I’m sitting. I watch her long dress switch about her full hips. Her hair was iron grey. Her heavily lined face showed character. She had freshened her lipstick. I thought the lipstick was a little too red for her complexion.

She sat down slowly next to me and casually patted my thigh.

“Do you remember Emma,” I asked.

A broad smile spreads across her too red lips. Her eyes twinkled through her thick glasses.

“Yes! Yes, I do,” she breathed.

*

I’m not like that,” Emma moaned as Joyce pulled on one nipple.

“Neither am I,” Joyce said. But my… uh… husband and I decided this was like the end of the world. The old rules don’t apply.

She leaned over the chair and took one of Emma’s nipples in her mouth. Emma thrust forward hard into my face. One hand left my head and covered the back of Joyce’s head as Joyce sucked Emma’s tit. For several minutes, the only sounds in the room were moans, groans and the sounds of a wet pussy being licked.

I spread the lips of Emma’s pussy. Her clit stood out in all its, pink glory. Her slim hips trembled as I flicked her hard clit with the tip of my tongue. A thin clear liquid ran through her cleft and over her starfish.

At some point, neither Joyce or I were sure of the logistics. I was standing next to Emma, getting my dick sucked. She was doing a hell of a job with lots of tongue action and deep throating. The combination of alcohol and reefer kept me hard but prevented me from cumming. With one hand, I was mauling one of her hanging jugs.

Joyce was on her knees between Emma’s legs. With one hand, she balanced herself on the floor while the fingers of the other were buried in Emma’s cunt. I could see Joyce’s tongue dancing on our hostess’ clit.

Emma came repeatedly. Her body shook like a dog with fleas. The hem of her robe was soaked with her juices.

The three of us settled into a rhythm. I had one hand behind Emma’s head, basically mouth fucking her. Her tongue was circling my cock head, with saliva running out of the corners of her mouth. My sister's head was moving up and down and side to side as she licked and sucked Emma’s pussy.

“Oh fuck! Fuck! I’m going to cum again.” Emma's orgasm was explosive and loud.

Her head shot forward burying my cock deep in her throat. Her throat flexed as her gag response kicked in. I came, shooting my load down her throat. It all came back up as her gag reflex kicked in. She had a coughing fit, spewing spit and cum over Joyce and me.

Simultaneously, she thrust her hips hard against my sister's head and came, cursing and moaning. Joyce told me later she took her swollen clit in her teeth without biting. She said the sharp edge of teeth increased the sensitivity and the orgasm. Don’t ask me how she knew.

 

Chapter 7

A soft sheen of sweat broke out on Joyce’s forehead. She leaned over and whispered in my ear.

“You know, that was the first time I ever ate a woman.”

“You could have fooled me. You dove in like a pro.”

Joyce grabbed my shoulder with one liver-spotted hand. She shook it as she laughed. “Well, Henry did it to me all of the time, so I knew what I liked. So, I just did that to her.”

*

I stumbled back and collapsed on the bed. Joyce stood, leaned over and French kissed Emma for a long moment. Her handed kneaded her breast. Emma gripped Joyce's ass squeezing it. It was the first time I watched two women go at it.

Joyce and Emma stared at each other for a long moment. Then Joyce sat next to me. I watched Emma recover as I lay on my back catching my breath. First, her eyes opened, and she stared at the ceiling then she raised up slightly and looked down at Joyce and me.

Joyce was licking my cockhead, restoring life to my semi-hard cock. She was on her knees on the bed with her ass pointing toward Emma. Emma watched for a few minutes. She knelt behind my sister. Joyce told me later she tongued her ass first then licked down and began sucking on her pussy lips.

Joyce stopped sucking me and looked back over her shoulder.

“I thought you weren’t like that.”

“I’m not, but I know what I like. I decided to return the favor.”

 

Chapter 8

“Tell me true, you ever do anything like that again?”

“No, I ain’t no dyke. It was just that one time. You know it was like one of these end of the world pictures, like ‘Panic in Year Zero’ or some shit like that. You make your own rules.”

“So,” I teased, “you never got that urge again?”

“No!” Her face changed, looking shamefaced as the older people would say. “There was that one other time, but that doesn’t really count.”

“Uh Huh,” I said, “so you developed a taste for pussy after Emma.” I lowered my voice and whispered the last.

“You old reprobate! If it hadn’t been for you, I never would have known what it was.”

“Are you going to tell me about it?”

“I am not! It ain’t none of your business anyway!” Joyce lightly punched my shoulder.

“Be like that then! But I remember what a freak you were during that storm. I can just imagine what you did later.”

“You remember what we did after Emma, and I did our thing?”

*

I was hard again with absolutely no chance of cumming anytime soon. I recalled something I saw in an 8mm stag film. I had Joyce lay on her belly on the bed, and Emma lay on top of Joyce. Then I got behind them. I stroked a couple of times in Emma. Then I squatted a little and slipped it into Joyce and repeated. I went back and forth.

“Boy, where you learn this shit from,” Emma hissed as I slipped out of her and into Joyce’s. Their pussies were amazingly different. Emma’s felt longer, dryer. While Joyce was juicier.

Joyce groaned as I slipped my cock in her and slowly fucked her. I looked down and saw Emma’s hand slide between her and Joyce. She rubbed and fingered her pussy.

I switched back and forth from fucking Emma’s long skinny pussy to Joyce’s fat tight one. As she pushed up to meet my down thrusts, Emma would risk rolling off. Eventually, she wrapped her arms around Joyce and played with her tits.

“Fuck that feels good! Don’t stop.”

“You greedy bitch! He needs to fuck me too.”

“Why I got to be a bitch," Joyce groaned thrusting back against me behind her.

Both women were fingering themselves now Their heads were turned to the side, and they were kissing. I could see their tongues dancing outside of their mouths.

*

“I ain’t done nothing like that before or since then,” Joyce said.

I leaned close and whispered, “But you did eat someone else’s pussy?”

That earned me another playful punch in the shoulder.

“Hush! Here comes Jennifer.”

Jennifer was a carbon copy of my sister at thirty. Jenny was forty and very pregnant. Her belly was like a giant watermelon stuffed under her maternity dress. She had the classic wide legged, sway backed walk of women in the advanced stages of pregnancy.

“Hello, Uncle Joel! Mother! I know you aren’t drinking. You know what the doctor said!”

Joyce turned to me and faked whispering under her breath. “She was much nicer when she was younger. Now she thinks I’m her child.”

I popped up to offer her my seat. She waved me off. She stood over us in the classic stance of the expectant mother, her hand cradling her belly. I had a flashback to time seven months after The Blizzard. Joyce was seven months pregnant when she told me Jennifer was probably my baby.

“What do you want this time, Jenny?”

“Well, Uncle Joel, we got one of each so this one is a jump ball.”

The three of us shared a laugh. Then Jenny excused herself.

“Do you ever plan on telling her I may be her father?”

“No need in that. None of Jenny’s babies came out with two heads, three eyes, or acting like an asshole.”

*

Again, the logistics fail me, but at some point, they turned into a sixty-nine with Emma on top. I stepped behind her and slid my cock into her very loose, very wet pussy! I stroked hard. I got several pussy farts as I stroked. Under her, Joyce was alternating licking Emma’s pussy and letting my cock slide along her tongue.

I came hard, pumping Emma’s long tight pussy full. Or as full as I could after cumming so much in the past few days. I fell on my back next to them, and they continued eating each other out until they both came. They rolled on their backs next to me. Exhausted. The room stank of sex.

“Y'all had better leave. At some point, they’ll get the roads cleared, and my husband will come home. The last thing I need is for him to walk in and catch me with my head buried between Joyce’s thighs and you fucking me.”

We dressed, said our goodbyes, and started back to my place. Joyce stopped at the phone in the hall and called her husband. He told her he got the car dug out and was going to come and get her.

We hurried into my kitchenette. Joyce put on her heavily wrinkled but now dry clothes. She wanted to clean up but was not sure if there was time. We stood in the middle of my kitchenette hugging and kissing.

“Sis, you were amazing!” I cupped her ass and squeezed.

“You weren’t so bad yourself,” she said with a wry smile. “And I’ll have to stop calling you my “little” brother.” She cupped my flaccid tool.

The bell rang stopping our mutual admiration and groping session before it turned into a full-on fucking session. Henry was downstairs. He could not park, so she had to come down. Before she left, she looked and me, kiss me on the cheek and smiled.

“We can never tell anybody about this.” I nodded my assent.

 

 

 

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