Chapter 2

Light filtered faintly through the curtains, faithfully reproducing the lacy intricacy of the cloth in soft swirls of shadow across the carpet and rumpled bed. Bette Jean stared at it through slitted eyes. Her head ached and the inside of her mouth felt dry and tasted brown. There was a heavy weight across her thighs. Heavy and warm and confining... Another weight pinned her breasts. A soft snore rasped thick breaths into her armpit.

Her eyes flew open and the breath caught in her throat as the terrible memories of last night came flooding back into her awakening consciousness. The smell of stale sweat and the musk of sexuality came to her nostrils. Oh God! What horrors married women had to endure! She wriggled and felt the last of Lester's cum from the night before trickle obscenely out of her ravished body onto the sheet, wetting it with his lurid spend. She tried to move but Lester's sleeping body sprawled across her kept her touching the wet stickiness. The ugliness of the entire night flashed through her, made even more revolting by lying here in the clear light of morning, seeing, smelling, remembering.

Pushing her hands under her she managed to wriggle partly out from under Lester's dead weight. Inch by inch she pulled free, which didn't disturb his thick snore except to introduce a few snorts.

The shower was hot and cleansing and Bette Jean stood gratefully under its stinging spray. There was no question in her mind now. Lester would use Donnie's room or she'd leave. She couldn't... she wouldn't be subjected to such indignities again ever. Even the threat that he would seek another woman wouldn't change her mind. It wouldn't be easy. The word always got around and she'd be humiliated if he took a mistress but it was better than being his housewife-whore! Let him vent his hideous animal passions on some other poor female... but it wouldn't be on her body again... ever... no matter what.

Strangely, aside from her headache she didn't feel too bad, she mused, rubbing herself briskly with a large soft towel. There was an unfamiliar sense of well being and almost of euphoria. Even the sight of her full white breasts marred by the faint blue bruises could not dampen her spirits. It was will power, of course, and knowing that you'd taken a stand and couldn't be budged.

The doorbell shrilled as Bette Jean buttoned the ivory satin robe around herself. It was the Christmas robe that Lester had given her several years ago that she'd never worn. Too dressy for cooking breakfast and too showy and provocative in the evenings. Bette Jean had saved it in case she ever had to go to the hospital. But somehow it seemed the right time to wear it now. It was a symbol of her vow, she thought, buttoning the last button as she answered the door.

A long expanse of tanned thigh below a bright red short skirt was the first thing she saw. Looking upward, there was a short navy jacket and a white blouse that showed far too much bosom in the deep V neckline and above that a young but pouty face framed by long sandy hair. Her eyes traveled back down again to discover several suitcases nestled around the navy pumps.

"Yes?" Bette Jean clutched the pale lace at her throat higher.

"Bette Jean... don't you know me?" The pouty mouth split in a teasing smile to show even white teeth.

"I... Wanda?... You can't be Wanda..."

"But I am. It's me... I know I've grown some since you saw me... but I never thought you wouldn't recognize me."

Bette Jean found herself enveloped in strong young arms and a sisterly kiss planted on her cheek. The young girl smelled of strong perfume. She whirled on into the house, laughing and talking.

"It's your baby sister! Been a mighty long time, I know... but here I am! My... what a beautiful house you've got, Bette Jean. Makes home took pretty bad... I mean Aunt Dee's and Uncle Alf's. You know... I just thought I'd never get here... but I kept dreaming that some day I would and... after all these years... here I am at last! I can hardly believe it... can you?"

"No... no... I can't, Wanda." Bette Jean tried to smile warmly but she was so taken aback by the sudden appearance of her younger sister that she still couldn't quite take it all in. Her head was full of a thousand questions.

"Why didn't you let me know you were coming?"

Wanda had rushed back to lug the heavy suitcases inside the entry. She brushed her long sandy-colored hair out of her green eyes. "Well... I never was much good at writing... and I just decided it was time I came for a visit... I mean... it's been so long since I even saw you. I'd about forgotten I had a sister. Seems like you and Lester just never can get away to come home anymore. Heavens... it's been at least five or six years since you were home... and well, I just made up my mind and... I can't believe it but I'm here!" She pulled the last piece of luggage in and shut the door, panting a little with exertion. Her eyes were shining and she looked around in wonder.

"You've got just about the prettiest house I ever saw, sister. Some day I'm going to have me a house like this. Yes sir... that's just what I'm going to do. You wait and see!"

"I'm sure you will, Wanda, but you've got a long time to think about that. Why you're not even out of high school are you?" Bette Jean knew her sister was only seventeen but with the clothes and makeup she looked at least twenty or more. No, it wasn't just the clothes. It was the manner, the makeup and something in the eyes... knowing and a little hard. The girl was taller by at least four inches and voluptuously well developed. The last time she'd seen her, Wanda had been a pigtailed little girl, gawky and awkward... now she was grown and... well, there was no denying it... sexy looking.

"I'm just making coffee. We... ah... got lazy this morning... and I was just getting ready to go to the kitchen when you rang the bell."

"Imagine being able to make the coffee in something as pretty as that robe. I'll bet Lester just spoils you good. Well, I'm going to look around and find me a good husband like that in a year or two. Oh... I just can't get over this pretty house. I'd just love to keep a house like this. I will, too. I'll help you with the housework, Sis. I sure will."

"Well... I manage pretty well by myself."

"Oh, I didn't mean it looked neglected. It's just beautiful! I just meant that I could lend you a hand, you know."

The cheeriness of her voice brought only dismay to the beautiful housewife. Automatically she made coffee and started the bacon. She hated surprises and house guests always disrupted her routine. Her thoughts were chasing through her head at breakneck speed. Wanda sounded as though she'd come for a long visit. The bags! Heavens, there must be at least six or eight of them.

"What's going on out here? I sure could use a cup of coffee." Lester walked in amid the girlish chatter, a bathrobe wrapped around his hairy body that failed to cover his bulging muscular calves. He looked sleepy and rumpled and querulous. The drooping eyes popped open wide when Wanda came into his range of vision where she sat at the white kitchen table, jacket off, long legs stretched out and young full firm breasts almost bursting out of her white crepe blouse.

"Well... I didn't know you had a caller so early, honey. Why don't you introduce me..." There was something oddly familiar about the luscious long legged creature sitting at his kitchen table at nine A.M. but he couldn't quite place her. Jesus! She sure had legs and tits! You didn't have to have a whole lot of imagination to almost feel those bursting in the palms of your hands or your cock pressed between their warmly inviting roundness. Just looking at all that nubile flesh made the roll with Bette Jean last night seem like a snack to whet the appetite. The green eyes were looking at him appraisingly too, framed by the swing of silky, sandy hair. She was no innocent, he'd judge. A broad only looked at a guy like that when she'd had a little experience. It was as though she'd learned a private language that only males understood. He read her all right.

"It's my sister, Lester. You remember Wanda." Bette Jean answered, busying herself turning the bacon with a long handled fork.

"Why, of course. How are you Wanda!" Lester took her hand and grinned down at her. "You've grown some since I saw you! Yessiree! Grown a lot. Can't much blame me for not knowing who you were. Who'd have ever thought that skinny little kid'd turn out like this!"

"Sure is good to see you, Lester. Has been a long time. I was just telling sister here it must be five or six years."

"Well, we're mighty glad you came, Wanda. House is kinda empty with just Bette Jean and Gary and me. Lots of room. Sure is nice you've come for a visit. You have, haven't you?"

The pink tongue came out to wet the pouty coral mouth. "Well, I hope you'll let me stay a while. I should have let you know, I guess, but I'm not much good at writing."

"Lester! Go get some clothes on!" She hadn't meant for her voice to shrill like that, but the way he was looking at Wanda was obscene. The dirty minded old goat. Bette Jean's hand shook a little taking the eggs out of the refrigerator. It was too much after last night to find the sister she hadn't expected to see, standing on her doorstep like that at the crack of dawn. Standing there with all her suitcases as though she'd come for good.

Lester winked at Wanda, his head nodding at Bette Jean, "The old lady got up on the wrong side of bed. I'll be right back."

Bette Jean's nerves felt strained and tightened all during breakfast, as though attached to screws that turned them more and more taut. Lester was grinning fatuously at Wanda as he ate, his face scrubbed and shaved and shining. Her sister was fawning and flattering her husband till he was fairly preening. It was disgusting.

"Sugar?"

Wanda shook her silky length of hair. "No, thank you. I have to watch my figure."

"No you don't. You just let old brother Lester do that." He laughed uproariously.

Wanda laughed appreciatively. "I'd forgotten what a nice man you married, Bette Jean. If you weren't my sister I'd be kinda jealous."

"He's old enough to be your father, Wanda, and he's getting childish in his old age," Bette Jean answered peevishly, then turned the conversation to Uncle Alf and Aunt Dee. Pouting a little, her younger sister complied, answering questions reluctantly.

Finally Bette Jean got the courage to ask right out. "How long are you planning to stay?"

Wanda fidgeted and blushed. "Well, I was hoping maybe you'd let me stay for good. They're getting so old, Bette Jean. I mean I can't even have a date without the roof falling in. I mean... well, I wouldn't be any trouble. I'd get a job and I could help you with the housework and all. I just had to get away. There's nothing to do in that little old town anyway. All the kids get out and come to town as soon as they can."

"Well, I don't know. It's a sudden thing. I mean, jobs are hard to find here and you might not like it. They're aren't many girls your age in this neighborhood. What kind of job could you get anyway?" Her fears were being confirmed. The minute she'd seen her on the doorstep, she'd known in her bones. She felt a little ashamed of herself then. After all it was her own sister.

"I type some. I took that at school and I worked a while at the dime store. Oh, Bette Jean, I just can't go back. I just can't. I'll die in that two bit town. Honest, you won't know I'm here. I'll help you and I'll get a job so I won't even be here all day."

"Now no one's asked my opinion in all this." Lester leaned back in his chair, blowing smoke rings ceilingward. His thumbs hooked in his belt, he looked at his wife's timid, uncertain face. "You're always wanting to get out more, Bette Jean. You race around trying to get everything done and you've got the explorer guides stuff to do with Gary and you wanted to join the bridge club. Well, now's your chance. Wanda's here to help you with the housework, you could do more things you been wanting to do. I think Wanda'd be a big help to you. Besides, I don't see how you could even contemplate turning your own sister out. Your baby sister. The old folks done their share. It's our turn now. You just tell me which room you want me to put her bags in." He rose decisively. It was settled in his mind and that was the end of it.

Before Bette Jean knew quite what happened Wanda was happily unpacking in what used to be the girls' room and Lester was off to work. A premonition of impending doom settled onto her small shoulders and she made another appointment with Dr. Madson. While Wanda was working, singing and slamming closet doors and drawers, she determinedly moved all of Lester's clothes into Donnie's old room. After last night, nothing was going to change her mind about that!

Wanda stretched lazily. Her hands strayed luxuriously under her nightgown to caress her bed-warm flesh. The soft tips of her breasts came alive under her palms and hardened into rigid little buds of need. Lord, it'd been a while. A girl got almost as horny as those farm boys back home when she had to do without it. But it wouldn't be long now. Lester kept looking at her like he was going to eat her alive.

She smiled and dipped her middle finger tenderly into the sensitive lips of her cuntal slit. Soon, now, she'd have Lester snorting and pawing. He wasn't getting any. Separate bedrooms. Bette Jean must be some kind of simpleton, leaving her husband high and dry like that, running around to doctors all the time. And Gary. That poor kid was almost crazy with needing a good fuck. There just wasn't any fucking going on at all in this house. It was as bad as living with Uncle Alf and Aunt Dee except Bette Jean and Lester were younger. Her finger found the erect little love button up between her legs and rubbed it gently alive.

The house was quiet. Wanda could almost hear the soft slippery sound of her finger on her clit. Oh God, it felt good. Bette Jean had gone off to that Explorer Guide meeting and luncheon. Gary was at school and Lester at work. Her thighs spread slowly as her finger slid up and down the moistened furrow of her desire-enflamed pussy. A whole week now without anything. There hadn't even been any men at the employment agency except one old geezer about sixty filling out an application for janitor. She'd only gone to satisfy Bette Jean anyway. Why worry about a job yet? She could sleep late, eat when she felt like it, watch television. There was plenty of time for jobs later.

Her hand stopped, poised above her slickened cuntal mouth, the breath held motionless in her chest as she listened. A car had stopped and a door slammed.

Lester walked into the still house, the blinds drawn against the light that could fade the carpet. It was dim in the big living room. He turned on the lamp and rummaged through his desk to find the Dreiser invoice. There. He folded it and shoved it into his pocket.

Must be getting on toward lunch time. May as well eat here before he went back to work. Save time in the long run. As he walked toward the kitchen he glanced down the hall and almost jumped out of his skin. Wanda was standing there in the door of her room, just watching him. Christ! She had on some kind of short thin nightgown that made her look more naked than if she hadn't had a stitch on!

"Hi." She packed so much meaning into that one soft syllable that he felt his gut tighten and his cock lurch inside his tight jeans. She just stood there looking at him, the long sandy hair almost touching the pink nipples that showed clearly through the pale yellow fabric. One tanned thigh was thrust forward and a slim hand hooked on one curved hip. Jesus! It was hard to believe that the provocative creature before him was only a kid. Not much older than his own son Gary but she was woman... a full blown woman. It was as though she stood at the end of a tunnel down the dim hallway and she was beckoning him though she never moved or said anything beyond the original laconic greeting. Lester went toward her as though she were a magnet and his cock a bar of magnetized steel. He wasn't even aware of his legs moving until suddenly he was standing right in front of her.

The green eyes looked up at him boldly. It was like she could read everything that was going through his head and was answering all his questions. She was removing all the obstacles without ever once opening her mouth. From somewhere deep inside his gut a groan tore out as his hands reached for her. He was crushing the silky length of teen age girl into his body and his mouth bent to drink from that pouty mouth. The lips opened softly and his tongue surged into the hot cavern that was moist and softly receptive. His hand found the round fullness of her firm buttocks as he pulled the sleek little belly into his aching imprisoned cock. His mouth was bruising those taunting lips and his tongue fucking hard into the sucking mouth that was knowing and practiced. Jesus Christ! This was what a man needed. Oh God, yes, needed like he needed air.

"God damn!" he breathed finally into the fragrant hair in along the curve of her throat.

"It's about time," she whispered, her arms going up around his neck tighter. "Thought you weren't ever going to make a move... thought maybe you didn't want any..."

"Ohhh, Wanda, baby..." he muttered, his mouth kissing all over the firm young skin of her face and throat and ears.

"Wait..." she pulled from his arms and went into the bedroom. Jerking the covers down she crawled into the bed and lay back, posing provocatively for him. The sandy hair was spilled in silky streaks across the pillow, the green eyes mocking him again, the slim tanned arms flung over her head, the long tapering thighs spread out until he could see the hair fronded pink slit between her legs.

"You getting any ideas?" she whispered.

"Hell... I got ideas," he rasped, jerking his clothes off with frantic urgency.

"Well, how about using some of those ideas with me, right now?" Wanda said, a little petulantly. "I'm right here... ready and willing..."

"... and able!" Lester was shaking as he climbed onto the bed beside her and leaned over to kiss her hard, using his lips and tongue, thrusting deeply into her mouth to taste again the sweet nectar of her. His big work-roughened hand went up under the sheer, shorty nightgown to the magnificent mounds of firm, full flesh. He felt their swelling smoothness, paying homage to each in turn, the coraline-pink buds of her nipples coming erect and standing out into his palm.

"Let's get this damned nightgown off of you!" he grumbled, giving it a tug.

"All right, darling... but don't tear it," she warned.

"I don't like anything in the way!"

Quickly, she sat up and removed the fluff of nylon. As it came over her head, her breasts burst from their gentle confinement, thrusting up, proudly, before him. Choking a little, he glued his mouth, instantly, to one nipple.

Sucking and nipping at the erect nib he heard her mewl in throaty pleasure, as he massaged her other breast with his hand, kneading the silky, smooth flesh and feeling the pliant warmth of it. Deftly, he rolled the pink-hued, berrylike pap between his thumb and finger.

Now, that hand left her breast, and went in search of other more tender, intimate flesh. Sliding down across her flat belly, smoothing around the swelling curve of her gently rounded hip and back to the inside of her satiny thigh, to the soft, inner juncture of her loins, his hand roamed in the fleecy softness of her gently squirming pubic mound. Then, his hand dipped between her thighs, as she parted them slightly, for him, allowing him full access to the tight, resiliency of her moistening vaginal opening. He pushed an eagerly slithering finger into the soft wet warmth of her pussy and began to move it in ever widening circles just inside the vestibule of her cuntal passage.

After a few moments, her hips began to undulate up against his probing hand, and he removed the slickly moistened finger from her gently clasping, fast-responding cuntal passage, moving it up through her delicate pussy slit to find the hardening shaft of her tiny clitoris. Lightly, he stroked it, feeling it become even more turgid, under his manipulation. Then, he found the super-sensitive head of the miniature phallus, his touch setting off sensual shocks in her body. She moaned aloud, "Oh, Lester... don't make me wait so long!"

One thing about this hot teenage sister of Bette Jean's, he reflected, she was direct. "Don't rush me, baby. I waited a long time for this," he said, as his mouth left her breast, and his hand deserted her loins so that he could shift positions.

Wanda shuddered as he began rubbing his rough, callused hands over her smooth young flesh. She could almost feel each separate nerve end blossoming under his fingertips as they danced along the inner softness of her thighs. All the excitement she had ever felt before, all the sexual frustration she had felt that morning, all had been secretly stored in some unknown compartment of her nervous system, waiting to be released by a man's touch, was flooding through her. Tiny goosebumps sprang out over the white patched tan of her skin as his hands stroked magically over her sensitive flesh.

She lay immobile for a moment, savoring the pinpricks of sensation following the path of the coarse fingers digging into her flesh. This lovely sensation was a welcome relief from the agonizing need that had been plaguing her. It would be an even greater relief to surrender completely. She had done all that was humanly possible to speed the inevitable and now it was his responsibility. She had made the choice, and now there was nothing to do but accept and enjoy.

Her mind droned on as his fingers traveled the rest of the way to the tingling folds of her nakedly exposed cunt. She could feel the moisture rising there again between her open legs as the exposed hair-lined lips began a slow, involuntary contraction, throbbing wetly against each other. Then, suddenly, his thumbs were on the fleshy ridges, relentlessly pulling them apart. Wands lay holding her breath and glorying with all her strength and youth in the temptation to which she was giving in.

It was not enough; her acceptance heightened the exquisite feeling of air rushing over the rising bud of her suddenly exposed clitoris. Oh God, yes, she was going to be fucked.

"Oh, oooooooohhh, yessss," she moaned softly as the muscles of her body began to relax and her legs fell limply out to the side. The beautiful thrills of pleasure were rippling up her now quivering belly and into the nipples of her throbbingly awakened breasts, drowning out the debasing thought of just whose strange hands were roaming over her nakedness.

Lester grinned, his eyes dancing with anticipation as they feasted on her slowly squirming body. Crawling upward he crouched on all fours over her sensually moving body, pushing her unresisting tanned thighs wider apart. He crawled between them until his face was a bare few inches above the sandy "vee" of her openly splayed cunt. He stared down as it rotated sensuously, expectantly, and his mouth watered until saliva dripped from his open mouth mingling with her wetness in the narrow pink slit.

Wanda felt only the tiniest fear as she felt the flat palms of his sweating hands pushing against the softly yielding flesh of her inner thighs, holding them wide apart. Through lowered eyes, she watched as the dark head dipped slowly downward.

Lester's head sank down between his sister-in-law's now wide- splayed thighs to where the nether eye of her throbbing cunt undulated up to him, expectantly. He saw that slick, viscous droplets of moisture glistened in the coral opening of her pussy.

With a little moan of desire, his head went down deep into the angle of her thighs, his tongue reaching out to snake into the warmly liquid depths of her vaginal orifice, and his mouth clamped tight to the opening in the most intimate, personal kind of oral- genital kiss. She raised her loins up to him, and he heard her moan of ecstatic pleasure.

"Aaaaaaaaahhhh," she gasped breathlessly as his mouth suddenly clamped over the softly raised mound at the base of her belly. As his tongue lanced snake-like into the moist tight slit of her vagina, a shudder rippled through her at the electrifying union of his long thick tongue with her erectly quivering clitoris.

The boiler maker began to work slowly and hungrily, feeling her soft wet pubic hair brushing tantalizingly across his cheeks. With a wild feeling of power in him, he heard her groan huskily from deep in her throat as the hotly probing tip of his tongue worked its way up and down the length of the narrow wet slit. Beginning at the peak of her pubic mound and flicking downward over the elastic-rimmed opening of her hotly clasping vagina and into the crevice of her softly flexing buttocks, it stopped to do a momentary wet probing homage to the tight brown throbbing hole that lay nestled below. Already she was squirming under his tongue and loving it!

Deeper, his tongue probed into her sensually alive cuntal passage, tasting the female taste of her slippery love-dew, the moisture from his mouth mingling with it, as he moved his tongue in circles inside.

The erotic sensations his licking, sucking mouth generated in her eagerly aroused loins raced through her, arcingly, like summer heat lightning. His tongue seared her with its lashing, snake-like searching, and she gyrated her pelvis up to his mouth, voraciously asking for more and more of the ecstasy building oral teasing. Happily she mewled her pleasure, her moans rising in the still house.

Her groans drove him on faster as he worked his way up and down the steaming hot valley, her elbows pressed tightly against her ribs as the searing tongue shot out, its hard darting tip circling the trembling erected clitoris. As his tongue continued its maddening licking against the straining pink bud of her sex, his lips sucked, drawing the warm soft folds of her vaginal lips deep into the hot wet cavern of his mouth. The young girl's hips were now grinding uncontrollably into the bed, soft mewling sounds of animal passion escaping from between her tightly clenched teeth.

Wanda was ecstatic. She had never in her wildest dreams imagined that anything could feel so exquisitely beautiful. Arnie and some of the fumbling farm boys had kissed her there before, but none had done this wild licking and sucking! She wanted to forget everything but this maddening probe between her legs! Oh God, it was good!

His head buried deep in the cusp of her thighs, Lester licked and sucked at her, wildly, his tongue lashing up and down the narrow slit of her pussy, making plunging forays in the moist cuntal channel. Then, up the throbbing clitoris, rising hard from its softly enfolding, hair-lined flesh, erupting even harder and pulsating, warmly, his tongue circled it, then concentrated on the tumescent, sensitive head. He teased it, tantalized it, urging the tiny bud on to ever greater, sensation producing, nerve-tingling sexuality. Wanda was moaning, now, almost incessantly, her wildly demanding pelvis thrusting up against his face, hips moving in lewd circles under the insistent mouth and tongue, thighs opening to him, wantonly, invitingly, wanting even greater enhancement and more inventive titillation of his mouth and tongue on her heated loins.

The pretty young teenager reached down with her hands and began desperately clawing at the short dark hair of the man kneeling between her thighs, trying to guide his face ever deeper in the hotly palpitating opening of her cunt. He let her force him more tightly into the wetly steaming crevice, pressing his mouth directly over the tight little hole in her insanely squirming cuntal valley.

As his mouth surrounded and covered the hungrily grasping cleft, his tongue suddenly snaked forward, burrowing lizard-like up into her desperately straining cunt. In response to the maddening sensation, her hips jerked involuntarily forward, burying the flicking tongue to its roots, and a deep guttural groan escaped from the girl as her soft warm thighs closed around his head. The teenager's heels pushed down against his back, pressing his body into the flesh trap until he couldn't breathe. His nose was smashed tightly against the tiny hard clitoris and he could feel the wetly fleshy walls of her brutally invaded vagina opening and closing in a sucking motion around his hotly stabbing tongue, attempting to pull it deeper and deeper.

Unable to tolerate the position she had put him in, the powerful man reached up and grabbed her flailing legs behind the knees, shoving them roughly back over her shoulders so that he could breathe and move freely, then went back to work with his tongue. He wanted her begging for it when he was ready to ram it to her and she was almost there. His tongue worked like a pile- driver in the flame-searing hole of her upturned cunt, withdrawing and plunging, withdrawing and plunging, making a lewd wet sucking noise with each deeply powerful thrust. Her cries were one long low continuous moan now, as he withdrew the lashing tongue suddenly from inside the warm smooth passage and found the hard throbbing clitoris and licked. He moved his face higher in her madly pulsating cuntal slit and began to suck and tease at it wildly with his teeth while she writhed and churned her buttocks above the mattress in a lewd dance of uncontrolled desire.