Chapter 6

Beverly had obviously talked to Mary. It was clear as soon as they came into his room, that night. They both stripped, but Mary examined his penis intimately, staring at it, as it stiffened in her hand, touching the various bumps and lumps, as she moved it in every way it could be moved.

“I told Fred I’d marry him,” she whispered.

“You haven’t told Mamma, yet.” said Bobby.

“No,” she admitted. “I’m afraid she’ll forbid it.”

“You’re nineteen, Mary,” he reminded her. “You don’t have to have her permission. You’re a woman.”

“Not yet,” she whispered, peeling the foreskin back, and leaning down to suck at his knob. She pulled off, and licked her lips. “I will be some day ... but not yet.”

Bev went first, and, for the first time, she climbed up on Bobby, like Mary did, resting her pussy lips against the bottom of his long, hard prick, and rubbing to an orgasm so strong that she had to stuff her hand in her mouth to quiet her moans.

Then Mary went, doing the same thing, having two orgasms, until he spurted. She rubbed her pussy lips all over his spermy abdomen, and kissed him, long and hard, before rolling off.

“Put your finger in me,” she whispered, raising her leg.

“You still have your maidenhead,” he reminded her.

“Put your finger in me,” she repeated.

There was pain. She had known there would be, but she had to see what it felt like to have something hard inside her. Bev’s description of seeing that penis she had just made spurt, sliding in and out of Mrs. Harris’ pussy, had made her almost crazy to feel the same thing. She was feeling that way with both Fred and Bobby now. It was part of why she’d agreed to marry him. She wanted to be fully a woman. She had no idea how to be a wife, but she could learn that. Fred had been so patient with her. He could have found another girl, one who would have sex with him, but he hadn’t. So she’d said yes to his proposal.

But right now, she had to see what it felt like.

He found that narrow gap in her hymen and penetrated her there, splitting the skin, rather than pushing it until it broke. The pain felt like a wasp had stung her but shortly that pain had lessened, until it was overridden with something that made her want to sing. It was so much better than when he simply fluttered his fingers against her clit. To muffle her cries of happiness, she buried her face in the muscles of her brother’s chest.

He kept kissing her, and sucking at her nipples, and whispering that she was so beautiful. He stroked her all over, and then put his finger in her again, this time more slowly and gently, because she was sore.

His finger found, deep in her, the same rubbery knob that he had felt in Bev, and, as his fingertip circled the tough, thick lips of her cervix, she cringed with the mingled pain and ecstasy of that. Without even touching her clit ... just by teasing her cervical lips and sucking at her nipples, he brought her off again and she whined her joy.

Bev watched, in awe of what was happening. She was used to feeling Bobby’s thick finger deep inside her, and craved that filling sensation now. But seeing it was different than feeling it. Watching her sister’s legs flop open, and seeing that finger disappear up in Mary reminded Bev of seeing the penis she was now familiar with sliding into Prudence’s pussy. She realized she was rubbing herself, watching them, and quietly had an orgasm too, thinking about how much bigger Bobby’s finger was than hers ... and how much bigger his penis was than his finger.