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Alan had just finished a hellish day, sometimes the income wasn’t worth the trouble. As an outside sales specialist in…

“Wendy, I’ve told you before. You are NOT going out without a bra on, and that’s final,” said Wendy’s mother,…

Rebecca and I had always felt a connection between us. We both did well at school and achieved good grades but we both suffered the downside to school life – being unpopular. In the two years that followed my high school graduation, I decided not to go to college, instead I took it easy, and generally was as slack as all the other kids had been at school. My sister had a different agenda; upon finishing school she went to college and became Miss Popular. I particularly resented the fact that she had broken the `spell’ and left me as the social misfit alone with my parents. I hardly left the house and if I did it was solely in order to get drunk, it was that bad. One day my sister returned for the weekend, she was due to go to a friend’s party and she made the most of the opportunity to eat at some level of luxury at the expense of my parents. When she arrived back home, you would have thought that Royalty had arrived. There was a ridiculous façade that everyone was really happy at home and everyone pretended to have missed my sister. When I saw her I just smiled and said hello. I knew that later she would discuss how I was feeling and ask if I had got out of my lethargic state yet. I hesitate to say it but sometimes I felt like I actually hated her, because of how popular she was and how goddamn nice she was to everyone. After some appalling takeaway pizza and some cringe-worthy conversation about life in a different city, I retired to my bedroom and remembered that I had bought a CD some weeks ago, that my sister would probably want to copy. I always did this for some reason, it was probably due to being so lonely and not having anyone to talk to half the time. I shouted to my sister that I had the CD and she said to put it on in her bedroom and she would come in and listen, after she had finished clearing the kitchen table. I had often gone into her bedroom when she was away at college and just looked around, you know stuff like old diaries and some photos of her and her friends partying. It depressed me really. I put the CD on and sat down on her bed. Rebecca came in and asked me about what I had been doing since she saw me last. I just replied nothing. She turned on the television and paid no attention to the CD. I stared vacantly at the television set. It was Friends, a programme that I would never watch. The characters in it were just too unrealistic and I despised the fact that they were all living together whilst I was living with my parents. I shivered, not at the show but at the atmosphere in the air. I was only wearing a T-shirt and jeans but even so, the air was really cold. My parents were real cheapskates and always did things on the cheap and that often meant the heating was switched off. “If you’re cold, put a top on,” my sister said in her ever so cheery way. I told her that my room was too far away. It was the room next to hers but my lethargic mood had set in. “Borrow one of mine?” she asked motioning to her chest of drawers. I told her that I was not quite at the stage where I would wear women’s clothes. She smiled at this as if she was relieved. I snuggled up to the pillow on her bed and continued shivering. “Lay down in the bed if you want,” she said. “I’m sure it’s clean.” I moodily climbed into the bed as if I did not want to. My sister switched off the CD and told me that she had to sort out her books, as she needed to take some back to college. I did not answer; I just lay in my sister’s bed and stared at the TV screen. My hands reached down to my groin, as they seemed to do, almost by instinct whenever I lay in bed. As I did this, I saw the outline of Jennifer Anniston’s nipples pointing through her denim dress. I looked over at my sister as she busied herself with her bookcase. My hands stroked my penis and my balls as I focused on the denim-clad nipples. I kept checking to see what my sister was doing, she seemed happy sorting out her books. I was getting nervous that my sister might turn and see a bulge under the sheets. But those nipples were so prominent! My penis was now erect and I could not resist jerking it lightly. A smile came across my face as I felt my temperature rise. The momentum of my jerking had risen; I looked over at my sister who was bending over. I slowed down my jerking and it suddenly occurred to me. My sister was not bad looking, her ass, which I had never noticed before, was nice and round and before I knew it my masturbation tempo speeded up. I glanced back at the television and there was those nipples again, wanting to be let out of that dress. Maybe this was why Friends was so popular. My heart stopped and I heard a noise. The sound of my fist hitting the sheets seemed deafening! Once again, my jerking slowed down. The rhythm of my masturbating was now slow as to be discreet but just fast enough to maintain any kind of satisfaction. The sound of my fist making slight contact with the sheets was then interrupted by a coughing noise. A deliberate coughing noise. My sister stood staring at me and the bulge that protruded from under her bed sheets. My face burned with guilt. I tucked my penis back into my pants and looked away from my perfect sister. I closed my eyes and tried to picture a calming situation but all I could think about was Jennifer Anniston’s nipples and my sister’s ass. I felt the mattress plunge as she sat down next to me. “What are we going to do with you?” her voice was calm under the circumstances. I whimpered a noise, which in my mind resembled `sorry’. “I know you’re going through a bad patch and everything so I’m not going to get mad,” from her voice it sounded like she was smiling. I slowly turned to face her. I had to admit it was sister was good looking. Her short brown hair and her tanned complexion were really pretty. Her breasts were a decent size and were kept underneath a tight black top. She had left to go to college as a real plain Jane but now… “We all do it,” she touched my face with the side of her hand as she said it. I’m surprised she did not burn her hand, I was blushing that much. “Do what?” I asked. I was embarrassed and was staring at her breasts seeing if her nipples protruded like Jennifer Anniston’s. They weren’t. “You know, touch… ourselves,” she smiled awkwardly. “Do you?” I regretted it as soon as I said it. She nodded her head.sex“What’s wrong?” she asked, “Are you having girl trouble?” I was always having girl trouble. Trouble even speaking to a girl. Tears formed in my eyes as I realised the situation I was in, my sister had caught me masturbating and now she was about to realise the truth. “I’m a virgin,” I whispered it as if it were some terrible secret that she could never have guessed. “I know,” she said and smiled. What does she mean she knows, I thought! She could have at least feigned surprise. She stroked my hair. I looked into her eyes and my penis stirred. “Does it bother you?” she asked. I nodded. “What can I do about it?” I asked in anguish, and felt my manhood twitch nervously. “Go out, meet girls, talk to them. Let them get to know the real you.” I sat upright and my semi-erect penis withered again. “Look at me, girls don’t want men like me,” I pulled the hand I had been using to masturbate and pointed at myself. “Who wants this?” That question seemed to hit her. She looked at me in pity and sat silently for a few uncomfortable minutes. I looked away again and stared at the wall. My sister put her hand on my shoulder, forcing me to face her. She lowered her voice. “James, I’m going to do something for you,” she looked me all over as she said it. “I can’t help you lose your virginity, but I’ll do something else for you. For one night only.” She put her hand under the bed sheets, unzipped my jeans, and placed her hand on my penis. She gripped it tightly and began to stroke it. “What are you doing?” I said alarmed. “Are you saying you want me to stop?” I shook my head and looked at the television screen. Jennifer Anniston was still wearing that dress. “What are we going to do?” I asked trying to keep calm as my sister pulled her hand out and stroked her breast suggestively. “We can do anything you want, apart from having full sex and you can’t eat my pussy” I was shocked as she said the word pussy. “I want to do you a favour but I won’t go as far as that.” She smiled and pulled away the bed sheets from over me. I lay still with my penis now visibly poking out of my jeans. “So do you want me to do anything for you?” I wondered what the hell my sister was doing and saying. This was someone who had entered the world the same way as I had the girl who used to call me `pig’ when I was five. Rebecca moved her hands over to the top of my jeans and pulled them down. “Don’t you want me to?” she said when she realised that I was as motionless as a statue. “No, please carry on,” I said softly as Jennifer Anniston’s nipples stared back at me as if they were mocking me. I moved so that my legs dangled down from the bed and my penis pointed upwards towards my sister. “Could you…” I paused and gazed at the bumps from under my sisters top. “Could I what?” she asked patiently. “Take off your top so I could see your nipples?” I wanted to see if they were like Jennifer Anniston’s. Rebecca smiled and unzipped her top at the back and pulled it off her and threw it next to me on the bed. “I’ll let you take off my bra,” she sat next to me and moved her head so that she could kiss me. I kissed her back and slowly removed her bra. She moved her head back a little so her breath fell on my face. “Kiss me harder, James.” I obliged and kissed her stronger than before. I opened my eyes and saw the credits for Friends roll. My hands moved upward over my sister body and fell on her breasts, they were soft and round I stroked them and felt my sister grab my penis. She pulled her face away from me. “Is that the first time you’ve been kissed?” I nodded and stared at her tanned cleavage. Her nipples were pointed and inviting. “Go ahead.” She said and motioned me to them. My head went down towards her right nipple and licked it. My sister laughed and told me to be `nasty’. I placed my mouth around it and sucked, flicking it with my tongue. I sucked the nipple and pulled it with my lips and teeth before releasing it and looking at it in all its swollen glory. My hands ran through my sister’s hair and as my hand touched her neck, her head bobbed down and her mouth encompassed my penis. Her tongue tickled the head before she looked up.ass sex stories“One shot deal,” she said. “You cum and that’s it, no more favours.” I nodded my head knowing that despite the limitations of the night it would be my only offer until I met a deaf, dumb and blind girl. Her head again sank onto my penis. She seemed to know what she was doing with my cock and I had to wonder what kind of servicing her boyfriend was getting if that was just the version reserved for her virgin no -hope brother. Rebecca really pumped my cock with her mouth, which until recently I thought was one of the purest mouths in the world, I mean, I’d never even heard her swear before! As she pumped faster and faster her hands gripped my backside and squeezed my buttocks. My hands lay firmly on her head as I massaged her hair and neck. I could not believe it; this was my sister blowing me off! My perfect sister, miss popular, the girl that is going to be a lawyer, the girl whose boyfriend is built like a brick shithouse, my sister who left me on my own with my parents, my sister who this very evening had caught me masturbating over Jennifer Anniston’s nipples… Aaarrggh. I was cumming! My sister struggled with the jets of hot white semen and dribbled some onto the floor. My head spun at the sight and the thought of what was happening. I blinked as if to test if I was dreaming, but when my eyes opened I saw my sister looking up at me whilst she licked her lips. . “Okay?” my sister, asked as my spunk dribbling down her chin. I nodded my head and stared at her cleavage. I would probably never see tits this nice again I thought to myself as my sister cleaned herself up and threw me a small paper towel. As I cleaned my confused penis with the paper towel I gazed at my sister’s ass and wondered why I didn’t get to see it. I was in the perfect position to see that beautiful round ass. I cursed myself, put on my clothes slowly, and wondered what the hell my sister was thinking. Did she regret this? Would she want to do it again? And more importantly, would she tell anyone about it? I picked up my CD, and left the room in a state of confusion. As I entered my bedroom, I smiled to myself. Wow, Jennifer Anniston’s nipples. Any comments to

Part 1 – An Acquired Taste “So, honey, what did ya get me for my birthday this year?” Smiling, my…

(What follows is a work of fiction. All readers must be over eighteen years of age. It is suggested that readers use their most open minds, but, since some have nothing resembling such, this cannot be made a requirement for enjoying the story. If you are one of those poor, unfortunate thinkers who have lost the key of acceptance and cannot open their minds, please don’t continue reading what you know will stir up your righteous indignation.)Chapter OneMy Dad made mistakes the year I was 18. He was a deputy sheriff in Oklahoma City. He was busted for dealing pounds of methamphetamine, and given thirty-five years. Because he was a lawman, he was put in solitary confinement. Putting ex-lawmen in solitary confinement is a clever way of letting the general prison population know they’re cops. I was just finishing the drawing I was going to send him for my 19 Christmas, when I found out he had beaten himself up and then hung himself in his cell at the prison at Lexington.Mom made some mistakes, too, but hers were more innocent…at least at first. After Dad beat himself to death, Mom grieved for about a year, about the appropriate time for a wife-beater who was wired all the time. Then she started dressing more attractively. She also started taking the stairs to and from the third-floor law office where she was a legal secretary. She had some extra weight to take off if she hoped to find a husband who wouldn’t take off, she said. When she fell down the stairs and broke her arm in seventeen places, her job as well as her motivation to exercise ceased.Mom had no choice. She was alone in Oklahoma City without a husband or a job. She also had a hungry, growing teenaged son. She packed our belongings in the back of her Ford Country Squire station wagon and drove us the one hundred and twenty miles from OKC to Hanging Tree, Oklahoma–the strangest smalltown in the world.Hanging Tree was named after a hanging tree that still stood–after two hundred proud years of evil–in the yard of the courthouse square in the center of the tiny town. The tree had been used for hanging in the previous century first by the “civilized” Native Americans then by the “cultured” European invaders. Ropes tied to its strongest and most accessible limb had ended hundreds of lives over the years. I thought the town was going to end my life without the courtesy of a noose.Mom moved us in with her widowed mother in a white clapboard house at the southskirts of Hanging Tree. From the moment we moved in, there was trouble. Trouble was named Stanley. Stanley was my cousin, but he wasn’t proud of that fact. To him, my father’s disgrace was mine and my mother’s as well. He was a thick-skulled, ex-Marine, 18 years older than I was, but he became my personal demon. He didn’t like the idea that Mom and I were living with his grandma, increasing her burden in her golden years. He loved his grandma. He respected his grandma like any good military man. When he came over and threatened to kill me if I didn’t leave, I told him to go fuck himself, so he decided to change tactics. That’s why he told Grandma Russell that I’d been having sex with my mother since Dad went to prison. It was his way of gently motivating his beloved grandmother to do the right thing and kick us out.I had just walked into the yard at Grandma’s house. I’d been across town at a friend’s house smoking pot. I loved the way pot made me feel, and the fact that it was illegal only made me feel closer to my dead Dad. Grandma was out in the yard, hanging washing on the clothes line. They liked hanging things in Hanging Tree. I had no idea my grandmother was waiting to hang me up for the rest of my life.As I walked into the yard, Grandma Russell said, “Micheal, come here! I want to talk to you!”She sounded serious, so I stopped in the yard and said, “What you want, Grandma?”She walked her bony, wrinkled ass, working her elbows for propulsion, and came quickly across the yard to where I stood by the gate. When she got two feet from me, she stopped, put one hand on a hip, and shook the index finger of her other hand in my face. Taken aback, I said, “What’s the deal, Grandma?”“Micheal Russell, have you been having sex with your mother?” The finger in my face wagged out each word. “Stanley was over here this morning and said you’ve been doing it with your mother ever since your father went to prison and died! If you have, you had just better confess your sin so I can pray for you!”I looked at her. I started to speak, but words wouldn’t come. I was shocked beyond tears or self-defense. From my 18-year-old viewpoint, I was living through a hell on earth. My father had been disgraced, imprisoned, and killed. My mother had disabled herself, and we’d had to move from Oklahoma City to a scab like Hanging Tree. I had been getting one or two pimples that made me self-conscious. We had no money, I had no friends, and now my grandmother was accusing me of fucking my mother!“No, Grandma! No! Christ!”“Don’t you use the name of the Savior in vain, young man. You’re in enough trouble with Heaven for having carnal knowledge of your own sweet mother and her with one bad arm!”“But I didn’t! I didn’t have sex with Mom! Grandma! Stanley’s lying! Why are you so quick to believe something like that just because my sick cousin Stanley says it’s so?”She looked at me with hidden disappointment dawning as she realized that it probably wasn’t true. She had been ready for a battle against the devil for my soul and Momma’s pussy. Now that she began to believe I was telling the truth (and at the time I was), she became embarrassed. But it was a strange embarrassment.Instead of acting as if she were embarrassed about what she had said, she acted as if she were naked in front of me. When a woman is simply apologizing for being irrational, she doesn’t cover her clothed breasts with her arm, or splay her hand over her clothed pussy. I was young, but I read a lot. I knew the signs, and there was no mistaking the look in Grandma’s eyes. She was as turned on as a cat in heat.She took the hand that had symbolically hidden her pussy and put it on my arm. She smiled at me and laid her head against my shoulder. I couldn’t believe what seemed to be happening. Then she removed any doubt. Putting her other hand on the bulge in the front of my jeans, my grandmother said, “Since your grandfather died, it seems like my old cunt does all my thinking for me.”The longer Grandma massaged my dick through my jeans, the more forgiving I became. “Your Mom is going to be in Tulsa till late tonight. Let’s go in the house,” she said. I was easily led.We went to her bedroom. She sat on the bed and pulled me close to her. With a wicked gleam dancing in her old eyes, Grandma undid my belt and fly, took out my rock-hard eight inches (the only thing Dad left me), and dove for it like a big-mouthed bass for a spinner. I’d never experienced the like before, but Grandma had. She knew just what to do, grabbing my ass, twirling the tip of her tongue around the head of my dick as it bobbed in and out of her mouth. In what seemed like moments, I was holding the back of Grandma’s head with both hands and squirting cum into her throat. She moaned as she sucked. My head was reeling from the orgasm and from the thought of what I was doing.When she’d sucked me dry, she sat back, wiped her lips, smiled at me and said, “Now…you may not be fucking your mother, but you can fuck your old grandma’s pussy if you want.” She pulled her feet up on the bed, pulled up the hem of her dress, spread her legs, and scooted her hips forward on the bed. I reached down and grabbed her panties and pulled them down her skinny thighs and off over her tiny feet. She reached down and spread her inner lips. My dick got hard again.I kneeled on the bed and positioned myself between her thighs. Grandma reached in the front of her dress and pulled out a long, hard-nippled breast. Then she reached between my legs and grabbed my cock. “Oh, God forgive me! Heaven knows I need this!” Then she put the head of my dick between her moist lips. She threw her arms around my lower back and slammed me into her sixty-year-old snatch. It was warm, and soft, and I was hooked.In the limited day to day evaluation of a teenage boy, I became quite fond of life in Hanging Tree. I went to school where I was a slightly shy new kid with few friends, but when I came home I had plenty of opportunities to relieve the day’s stresses. Every time Mom was out of the house, I’d fuck Grandma like we were newlyweds. I had her all over the house. She made me like the forbidden aspect of our lovemaking by being up front with her wickedness. Sometimes I’d worry about people coming to the door, because when I was sliding my big dick in and out of Grandma’s lush, withered cunt, she’d shout things like, “That’s it. That’s it, son! Fuck Grandma’s pussy hard! Oh, you grandmotherfucker!”Mom never let on that she knew. I found out that Grandma had told her soon after it began, but Mom played dumb. Then on the night of July 4th, 1979, Mom and Grandma started getting ready to go somewhere. I came in the house and went to the refrigerator to get a Dr. Pepper. I noticed them getting ready and asked where they were going.“You’re going too,” Grandma said. “Go get cleaned up some.”“Where am I going?” I asked Mom who came into the kitchen, asking me to zip her up. (Her right arm was still weak from the fall.)“We’re going to a special Bible study,” Mom said, smiling over her shoulder at me after I pulled the zipper to her neckline.“Ah, Mom. I don’t want to go to church.” We didn’t make it a habit of going to church. Dad had been a nonbeliever, and Mom hadn’t made a big thing of her beliefs if she had any. I had come to the conclusion that God was a story like Santa Claus that they told you to convince you to be good.With Mom standing right in front of me, smiling at me and working to put her earring on, Grandma walked right up to me and grabbed my bulge. She’d never done anything like that in front of Mom before. I looked at Mom’s face, expecting surprise, and saw only that kindly light she always shined at her only child. Grandma said, “You’ll like this Bible study, you hard-dicked sweetheart. Now go get ready!” She gave my bulge a squeeze that made me see stars. I went to comb my hair.It was indeed a “special” Bible study, but I wondered then, and I still wonder, how unique it was. Christianity, in its more fundamentalist forms, is a repressive disease that starves its practioners for sex. If there were no Christianity, there would be a hundred times less perversion. Christianity forces people to deny their sexuality until it bursts forth in slightly twisted eruptions. I wondered how many churches across the nation has special meetings that only the more sensual Biblethumpers attended.The Bible study was held at a house in the country. When we pulled up about sunset, there were six cars parked carelessly around the circular drive at the front of the expensive home. Grandma parked the station wagon, and we went inside.A beautiful blonde girl of about twelve years met us at the front door and escorted us to a large inner room. There were eleven people in the room. Our number would bring the total to a multiple of seven. I learned that this was thought to be important. The young blonde introduced us to the assembly by happily proclaiming, “The seventh family is here! Here they are! The seventh family is here.”The room was furnished with style. The walls were covered with bright abstract paintings and the leaves of potted plants set all around its perimeter. The open square of the center of the room was bordered by long, plush, white couches. We sat in one corner of the fence of couches, and a tall, thin, dark man in a black business suit stood and began addressing the congregation:“If you have known Love, you have known God,” said the deacon.“If you have known Love, you have known God,” we all repeated.The deacon strolled slowly around the inner square, smiling at each, acknowledging each, as he spoke:“This is a great occasion for us today. Last month we lost three of our members who moved to Los Angeles. We have done well, but there is only so much we can do if we lack the Holy Numbers. Now we have seven families represented by fourteen people. Our prayers will be mighty tonight, praise God.”“Praise God,” the congregation echoed.“I am called The Deacon. No one here uses their everyday name. This is a special meeting of true believers in God’s grace. We believe, as did the first century Christians, that nothing is wrong as long as it hurts no one and is done in true love. Our freedom, eroded by centuries of dogma, is the liberty of the Law of Love.“We all go to regular Fundamentalist churches because Fundamentalism is about all there is in Oklahoma. But this is our true place of worship. Here we thank God for the gift of our bodies. Here we live as we were created to live in shameless Eden.”At that, everyone stood. I’d only been to church once or twice in my life, but I remembered they were big about everybody doing everything together, standing together, sitting together, singing together. I stood. Then everyone started taking their clothes off. It was quiet, unhurried, almost reverent. Not until I saw Mom and Grandma, to my right and my left, disrobing did I come out of my amazement enough to do likewise.When everyone was naked, the Deacon took a seat on the couch. Then the women, all the women, stood and paraded in the center square. At first they said nothing, just walked around, every shape and size of women, every age from the twelve-year-old blonde to my sixtyish grandmother. I couldn’t take my eyes off my beautiful, big-boobed, brunette-bushed Mom. Since I had been wrongly accused of fucking her, fucking her was all I could think about. The mind is funny that way.Then, at a nod from the Deacon, the women stood together in a cluster, raised their prayerful hands to their lips, bowed their heads, and began chanting a Bible verse over and over–“Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away.“Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away…”Besides the Deacon, there were two other males in the room, a fat man with a grey beard and a skinny redheaded guy a few years older than me. They were all masturbating their cocks to get them hard. I didn’t have to.The women stopped chanting their Bible verses. Then Mom walked over to me, her big breasts swinging, still firm. She held her bad arm under her breasts. She got on her knees in front of me and said, “Be careful of my arm, darling.” Then she bowed her head again and took the head of my dick in her mouth.I was ecstatic. Nothing had ever felt as good. Looking down incredulously, I saw her beautiful hazel eyes smiling at me merrily as she sucked my big, thick dick into her pretty mouth. I began to rock my hips up and down, fucking her mouth. Her good hand crept up my thigh and squeezed my balls.“Oh, fuck this,” I said. I got up and set her where I’d been sitting. She was more beautiful to me, sitting there with her legs pulled back, smiling at her son about to fuck her, than anything I’d seen before or have seen since. I grabbed my throbbing dick in my right hand. I was going to fuck my mother! I was going to be a motherfucker just like I’d been accused of being. I was about as far from being ashamed of it as I could be. I felt like the luckiest guy in the world.I could feel the individual hairs of my mother’s hot cunt touching the head of my dick as I guided it between her fat, olive-pink pussylips. When I stuck the head in her hole, Mom cooed, “Oh, yes! Stick that big, beautiful dick in Momma’s hot, hairy pussy. Oh, Micheal! Stick it in and fuck me. I’ve wanted this for so long.”I shoved my dick up in my mother as far as I could. Her heat and sweet creaminess was all the more delightful because it was forbidden. I was fucking my dear sweet mother, had my dick in her pussy, and I wanted to stay there for the rest of my life. Pumping my dick back and forth, in and out of Mom’s soft, wet twat, I heard the sucking sound that’s a soundtrack to sex. The sound itself turned me on even more. I looked down and watched Mom’s cuntlips cling to my dick. Her breathing was becoming quicker and uneven. I reached down and began sucking her rose-brown nipple while my hips continued driving my truck up her tunnel.I was sucking and fucking Mom enthusiastically, when I felt her start to spasm. She began moaning my name faster and faster, throwing her pussy up to meet my jabbing cock. Then she almost screamed, “Oh, God is Love! Micheal, fuck Mommy’s pussy. Oh, fuck Mommy’s wet hairy hole! I’m cumming! I’m CUMMMING!!”Pulling my mouth roughly off her tit, I straightened up and began kissing Mom’s mouth like we were horny kids in the backseat of a car. I pounded my cock in her cunt and French kissed her through her orgasm. When she was spent, I kept fucking her slowly. Her eyes looked into mine and widened. I smiled at her, kissed her lips briefly, and then, punctuating every word with a thrust of my dick into her honeypot, I said, “Mom, I hope you like what you started, because you’re mine now. I’m going to fuck you like you were my girlfriend from now on. Say it. Say this pussy is mine.”She put her hands on my biceps and wiggled her pussy from side to side as I slammed into it. “Oh, yes, darling. Mom’s yours now. Your Daddy’s gone, and you’re going to fill more than his shoes.” She laughed and then pulled herself up to my sweating body and began slapping her sopping cunt up to meet the rhythm of my dick. “Anytime you want to borrow a little of your Momma’s hot pussy, all you have to do is ask, sweetheart. All you have to do is ask.”Still fucking, but feeling my own orgasm rising, I laughed and said, “Why do I have to ask?”When I asked the question, Mom had been sucking on my right nipple. She pulled her face back and began running her fingers through my sweaty chest hair as my strokes in her steaming twat got faster and faster. “Because that’s the Law of Love,” she said. Just as I started shooting a huge load of cum up her gleefully incestuous cunt, Mom began chanting:“Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away. Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away. Give to every man who asks of you, and from him who would borrow of you, turn not away.”THE END

TGIF! As I look at the clock, all I can think of is being on the receiving end of a…

In a house with eight kids it’s hard to find time alone. Heck, it’s impossible. It’s hard enough just to avoid being in a real crowd. So it was kind of a treat to have only my sister Elizabeth in the room with me when we were watching this old movie on TV. Oh, I should introduce myself. My name is Tommy Bradford. I’m 18, and, like I said, I’m one of eight kids. And Elizabeth’s one of my sisters — I’d say one of my older sisters, but they’re all older than me. I’m the baby of the family except for Nicholas, and he doesn’t count because he’s just 17. Anyway, Elizabeth’s just a year older than me, and for a lot of years we were the tail end of the family, so we’re used to spending time together. I mean, we argue and stuff like regular brothers and sisters, but we’re also used to confiding in each other and asking for advice. I never paid too much attention to what she looked like — heck, she was my sister, right? But some of the older guys in school asked me about her a few times, so I tried to figure out what they saw in her. She doesn’t look too bad, for a sister, I mean. She dresses OK, and she’s not real thin or real fat — although she’s always saying she could stand to lose a few pounds. And a couple of the guys who asked about her said they really like her hair — it’s long, almost to her waist. And she smiles a lot. So, anyway, like I was saying, it was Elizabeth and me alone in the house, watching TV. Most of the other kids were out doing one thing or another, and Mom and Dad and Nicholas were over at one of our relatives. Elizabeth and me would have had to go to, but we’d been out that morning — me working on a school project with some of my buddies, Elizabeth doing something with her friends. So we lucked out and Nicholas got stuck going alone. So we’re watching TV, right? And we couldn’t agree on what to watch, so we flipped a coin to see who could pick first. I lost, and Elizabeth picked this old movIe. I said that wasn’t fair because the thing was gonna be on for like two hours, and by then somebody else might have come home, or even Mom and Dad, and I wouldn’t get my chance. But she just giggled and said she’d won fair and square. Which was true, so I gave up. I could’ve just gone to my room or something, but the movie didn’t look too bad when it started — some guy walked into a dark alley and got blown away in the first five minutes — so I watched with her. It turned out that nobody else got killed in the whole movie, or even beaten up. And the cop investigating the murder fell in love with this woman he talked to, the victim’s sister. So I was starting to lose interest. But then the cop and the woman are about to say good night, and he kissed her. I mean, he kissed her good. I leaned forward and I might have even scooted forward on the couch a little. It used to be, just a couple of years ago, I would have thought that stuff was junk. But I’ll admit I’m interested in some of the girls at school. Only I wasn’t sure what to do. I’d never kissed a girl — not a real one, anyway, just Mom and aunts and stuff. So I’m watching real careful to see just what the cop does — like, does he open his mouth? And do you aim right for the center of her mouth, or off to the side, or what? I must have been really into it, because when I felt a touch on my shoulder I jumped up and almost fell onto the coffee table. And Elizabeth started laughing so hard I thought she’d pee in her pants. Anyway, once I calmed down and she stopped laughing, she started teasing me about paying so much attention to the kissing. And I guess I blushed. “Tommy! Don’t tell me you’ve never kissed a girl.” I just hung my head down. I was ashamed to look at her. I guess she must have seen how I felt, because the teasing left her voice. “No, really?” she goes. “Oh, Tommy, I’m sorry I made fun of you. I just thought — really?” I told her I’d thought about it some times, but I just didn’t know how to do it — you know what I mean. She giggled, and I must have blushed again. I was feeling pretty dumb. Then she apologized again, and she put her arm around me. “Look,” she said, “if you really want to know how to kiss, how about if — well, if you practiced on me? I promise I won’t tell anyone.” I wasn’t sure, but then I thought about how it would probably be easier to get over having done something dumb with Elizabeth than with some girl from school. Heck, I’d done lots of dumb stuff that she knew about. What more could this hurt? So I asked her what I was supposed to do. She smiled. She’s got cute dimples when she does that. “Well, uh, I guess you should put your arms around me,” she said, so I did. Elizabeth felt softer than most of my aunts. “Now just kiss me,” she said. “You know how. C’mon, you’ve kissed Mom.” So I put my lips out a little and aimed for her cheek, but she turned her head at the last second so I landed on her mouth. I pecked at it and sat back. She closed her eyes and smiled. I had a feeling she was laughing inside. “You said you wouldn’t make fun of me,” I said. I was a little angry. “It’s just,” she started to say, and then she stopped for a second. “You’re right, I said I wouldn’t. Look, maybe I should give you a few tips first. I’m no expert or anything, but try this. Don’t close your lips so tight. Leave a little opening. Go in slow. And, for heaven’s sake, don’t jump away like you got an electric shock. Take your time!” We tried again, and I did like she said. It was better, I could tell. Her lips pressed right against mine and we hugged each other and it felt pretty good. Elizabeth said it was better, too. She had me practice a little more until she was sure I had it right, then she said I was ready for any girl in the school. That’s when I started to ask a question, but I stopped. It was something I’d heard the other guys talking about, but it sounded kind of silly to me. But Elizabeth made me go ahead anyway. So I asked her, wasn’t there something you were supposed to do with your tongue? I figured she’d start laughing at how dumb I was, but she didn’t. She just smiled and raised her eyebrows. “Who told you about that?” she wanted to know. Just some guys, I said. Well, she said, it was true. So we hugged again, and she told me to kiss her like before and let her show me. This time when we pressed our lips together, she slipped her tongue between my lips and right into my mouth! For a second I thought it was gross, but I had to admit it did feel good. And then she said we should try again, and this time I should push my tongue against hers, too. So we did that. I didn’t realize it, but while we were kissing I had gotten a hard-on. If I’d known it I would’ve stopped right away, because I’d always been really embarrassed about that kind of stuff; I really hated it when Dad sat me down for the birds- and-bees talk. But I was concentrating on kissing, so I didn’t know. And Elizabeth and I kissed a few more times, slipping our tongues into each other’s mouths. I guess we were holding each other pretty tight, too. I remember I could feel the strap of her bra through the back of her blouse. And on the third or fourth kiss, instead of just backing away we kind of slid our faces sideways, and I was kissing her neck while she was kissing mine. It felt really good. When we sat back after that, Elizabeth’s face was a little red, and she seemed to be breathing funny. I felt a little odd myself, kind of hot inside. And then she looked down at my lap and her mouth fell open. I was wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, and there was a big, dark stain right in the middle of my crotch, right where there was a big bulge from my cock. Boy, was I embarrassed. Elizabeth said she thought we’d better stop there, that I’d had enough practice, and I agreed. That night, I had a dream about her. I don’t remember exactly what happened, but when I woke up I’d cum in my shorts. The next day was Sunday, and with one thing and another it was impossible to get Elizabeth alone, but I thought about her all day. Finally, after dinner, I was able to pull her aside and suggest we slip out the back door for a little while. I asked her if we could practice kissing again. I was afraid she’d still be upset about my having a hard-on the last time, but it turned out she’d been trying to find a way to ask me the same question. We figured we couldn’t stay out there in the dark too long before someone noticed we were missing, but we did kiss and hug a little. After that, we always were on the lookout for a chance to sneak a kiss. Like I said, in a family with eight kids there aren’t a lot of chances to be alone, so we didn’t get together nearly as often as I wanted. But each time we could, we’d sneak away, just the two of us. I remember one time, we were kissing and I had my hands around Elizabeth’s waist, and then I started rubbing her back. I wasn’t planning anything, really I wasn’t. But as my hands kept rubbing I slid along her side and touched her breast. Well, I touched her bra — and that through her blouse. But she didn’t jerk away or anything, she just kept kissing. After that I always tried to cop a feel whenever I could, even when we couldn’t get away — I’d just slip my hand around her when we were doing the dishes, or something, and no one else was watching. That went on for a couple of weeks, and then we were kissing and I was stroking her through her blouse and Elizabeth asked if I didn’t want to get closer. She pulled her blouse out of her jeans and I put my hand underneath. Her skin was really smooth and soft, and warm, too. I remember running my fingertips over her side and touching her bra cup. It was stiff and scratchy, and I didn’t think she could feel anything under it. But when I put my hand on it she moaned a little and stuck her tongue way inside my mouth. It was tough, with as little time as we had, to do much more. I let her put her hands inside my shirt, and she even stuck them down the back of my jeans once or twice and cupped my butt, which felt kinda weird. The fact is, by that time I wasn’t thinking about other girls, just being with my sister. That may not sound right, but I don’t think either one of us thought we were doing anything wrong. I mean, we were just kissing, after all. And with so little time we couldn’t even think about anything else. Finally, after like a month or two, we got another chance to be alone for more than a few minutes. It was a Saturday night, and we’d finished all our homework, so Mom and Dad let us stay up late watching TV — after everyone else had gone to bed. We were sitting next to each other on the couch, and Elizabeth put her arm around me and pulled me in close and we started kissing. We were really going at it hot and heavy, I guess. I pulled her blouse out of her pants and she rolled my T-shirt up to my armpits. I could feel my cock pressing hard against my jeans, but I was used to that by now. I don’t even know what the movie was about. We didn’t pay any attention. Mostly because we were kissing, of course, and then we were keeping one eye on the stairs to make sure no one woke up and found us down there. But then we started licking each other’s neck and stuff, and Elizabeth leaned back until she was on her back and I was on top of her. With her on her back like that, her bra was loose and without really knowing it I slipped my hand inside and got my first feel of a real live breast! This will sound dumb, but it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I guess I didn’t realize that it was the bra that was so stiff, not what was underneath. I mean, I knew there weren’t any bones or anything there, but I just never thought it would feel so good. When I felt the little button at the tip of my sister’s breast, it all kind of hit me at once, what I was doing, and I pulled my hand out of there fast. But Elizabeth grabbed hold of my arm before I could pull it out from underneath her blouse. “You can do that,” she told me, and I didn’t need to be asked twice. So we kept on kissing, and I was fondling my sister’s tits. I guess it’s no surprise that my cock was as hard as a flagpole, especially since I was right on top of her. By that time she’d swung her legs up onto the couch and I was right in between them, holding myself off of her with one hand while the other was busy.xxx porn storiesWell, with my cock so hard, and me so lost in what we were doing, I just automatically started rubbing it against her. I mean, who wouldn’t, right? So Elizabeth, she says, “Hey, what are you doing?” And I asked her what she meant, and she said down there. And I got all embarrassed again, but she said it was all right. Then she asked me if it didn’t hurt, my jeans being so tight, and I said yeah, it did. “Well, why don’t you slide them down, then?” she said. I said I didn’t know if I should. She said I could do what I wanted, but she was gonna slide her pants down because she wanted to rub herself too. I didn’t know girls did that. I don’t think any of the guys in school knew, either, because none of them ever mentioned it. But Elizabeth said she sometimes played with herself after we got through kissing because I’d gotten her so hot. Well, I told her about having dreams about her, and how I’d done myself too. She said she thought that made her feel really sexy, and I told her I was getting pretty hot thinking about how I’d made her feel, too. So we both undid our pants and slipped them down around our ankles. Elizabeth had on a pair of shiny pink panties, really smooth. I was glad I just had on my white boxers, not any of the ones Mom had got me last Christmas, the ones with the polka dots or the race cars. We both laughed when we saw the matching stains on the fronts of her panties and my shorts. Anyway, she spread her legs apart a little and I got on top of her again, and I started rubbing against her. We started kissing again and stuff, too. I guess just rubbing isn’t enough for girls, because Elizabeth put her hand down there and stuck it inside her panties. I would’ve put my hand on my dick, too, but I didn’t have one free, ’cause I was feeling her up again. Since I couldn’t touch my cock, I wasn’t getting much satisfaction out of it, so I started rubbing harder. Next thing you know, I’m rubbing so hard that the head of my dick pokes right out the top of my shorts. I was hoping Elizabeth wouldn’t notice, and for a while she didn’t. She stopped kissing me and put her head to the side and just groaned softly and then all of a sudden she jerked back and forth a few times. I asked her if she was all right and she giggled. “I came,” she told me. “That’s what a girl’s orgasm is like. And that was a good one, too. How about you?” Before I could say anything, she started to pull her hand out of her panties and it brushed against the tip of my dick. I said I was sorry. “For what?” she said. And then she put her hand right on my cock! I thought I was gonna blow right then and there, it felt so good. Her fingers were real soft and kinda slippery — from fingering herself, I guess. I’d never felt anything like that before; it was way better than when I jacked myself off. But I was nervous, and I asked her if it was all right, us doing that, being brother and sister. She asked me if I didn’t like it. Of course, I had to say I did. Then she said that it wasn’t much different than just kissing, since we were just touching — and hadn’t I touched her breasts? Well, sure, I had, and that made sense to me. Besides, it felt too good with her hand rubbing along my shaft for me to ask her to stop. So she slid it up and down, slowly. When her fingers brushed over the sides of the helmet, I thought I would die. But after she’d rubbed a little longer it just felt right and pretty soon I felt something happening. I tried to warn her, but the cum just shot right out of me and splattered over her hand and onto her stomach. We kissed a little more and then I got up and got my clothes back and got her a towel from the kitchen to wipe herself off. By then the movie was over and we figured we’d better go up to bed. The next day we were eating breakfast with the rest of the family when Nicholas almost got us in big trouble. It turned out that while Elizabeth and me were really going at it, he’d gotten up and started to come downstairs to raid the fridge, and he saw me on top of her. When he started to tell Mom and Dad that he’d seen us on the couch, I was freaking. I snuck a peek at Elizabeth, and her face was white. What were we going to say? Luckily for us, it turned out Nicholas didn’t understand what he saw. He said we were fighting. Elizabeth cut him off real quick and said we were just having a pillow fight, and Mom told Nicholas not to be a snitch. Was I relieved! That evening, Elizabeth and me were careful to stay away from each other, but she did manage to slip me a note. It said that we should probably play it cool for a few days. I winked at her to show I agreed. The next few days were awful, not being able to hold her or kiss her or anything. I spent my nights jacking off in my bed, thinking about her. When we finally did manage to be alone, it was just for a few seconds, enough for a quick kiss; we didn’t even have time to talk. But as we split up again, Elizabeth whispered to me. “Write me a note,” she said. So I did. I wrote down how I thought about her all the time, and how I had dreams about her, and how I missed our kissing. I slipped it to her when we were all having dinner. The next day, she gave me a note back. It said she thought about me, too. That made me feel really terrific. And she said she couldn’t wait until we could be together again, which went double for me. But for the next couple of weeks, we didn’t get in a single kiss. We both agreed that after the Nicholas thing we should play it cool, at least as far as any late-night stuff. And we didn’t want anyone to notice us going off by ourselves all the time. As it turned out, though, that didn’t mean we couldn’t do anything. It started one night at dinner. This time Elizabeth and me were sitting next to each other. I was really in agony, having her so close that I could smell the flowery soap she used but not being able to touch her or anything. She had a white cotton blouse on and she’d left the top two buttons open, so when she bent over a little I could see her breasts hiding in her bra. I wanted to just yank open that blouse and grab hold of them. With all that going on in my head, it’s no wonder my cock was getting stiff. I didn’t think anyone would notice, with it under the table, but I think Elizabeth may have guessed. Anyway, I was taking a bite of spaghetti when I felt something on my crotch. I looked down right away and saw Elizabeth’s hand under the tablecloth. I felt her undoing my zipper. I looked around the table, and no one else seemed to noticing anything going on. It was tough to keep a straight face while my sister slid her hand into my pants and pulled my hard shaft out and starting jacking me off. My dad asked me to pass the butter and it took two or three tries before he got my attention. Elizabeth just giggled and kept on. When I felt myself about to cum I put my hand down there and pushed her away. No way was I gonna cum with my cock waving in the air like that, and get it all over my pants. As it was, I just got it stuffed back into my shorts when I exploded, and I had to wolf down the rest of my food and skip dessert so I could go clean myself up. After that, I wrote Elizabeth a note telling her it wasn’t fair that she could jack me off in front of everybody and I couldn’t get a hand on her breasts unless we were alone. She sent a note right back. “You’ll think of something,” it said. It was later that week that I finally figured out what she meant. In the meantime, she sent me another note saying she missed our sessions so much that she’d gotten a vibrator to help herself out. I didn’t know what that was at first, but when I sent a note back she drew me a picture. She said one of the girls at school ordered a bunch from some catalog. Elizabeth wrote that she kept hers in her locker at school, and when she did herself in the bathroom she would think about me. God, that made me get a hard-on just thinking about it. I told her so, and she wrote back that she’d prefer me to the vibrator any time. If found out what she meant that night. A bunch of us were watching TV, with me and Elizabeth and Nicholas all sitting together on the couch. She had on a sweatsuit, which made her look kind of lumpy — but I still remembered what was underneath. Anyway, she said she was cold and grabbed a blanket and threw it over her lap — and then she asked if I wasn’t a little chilled, too. I was too dumb to figure it out then, but luckily Nicholas, who was sitting on the other side of me, said he was — so Elizabeth spread the blanket over all our laps. In a little while she reached underneath the blanket and grabbed my hand and guided it over to her lap. When she tucked my hand under the waistband of her sweatpants I got the idea. My fingers brushed over a patch of hair, which I figured was like the one above my cock. And then I felt some folds of skin. They were already a little wet. I didn’t know where I was going, but Elizabeth guided me a little and pretty soon I had worked a couple of fingers into her hole and they got really slick from her juices. I wasn’t sure what to do then, but I started pushing my fingers in and out and I could hear Elizabeth’s breathing getting shallow so I figured I was on the right track. Once I started rubbing faster but Nicholas looked over when he felt the blanket shaking, so I had to slow down. It took awhile, but eventually Elizabeth kind of jerked a few times and then she pulled my hand away, letting me wipe it on the inside of her sweatpants first. So even though we couldn’t get away by ourselves, my sister and I did get a few chances to do each other — when we were with the rest of the family! It was so hot. Once we did get together for a few minutes when I ran into her at night in the hallway as we were both going to the bathroom. We figured that it was so late no one else would notice, so we snuck into the toilet together. The door was hardly closed before Elizabeth was all over me, pulling my cock out of my pajamas and planting her lips right on mine. And I was giving it back, too. I put my hand down her panties and stuck my tongue in her mouth. It felt so good to be with her again, without having to hide what we were doing. I was so hot for her I came right away, although I kept diddling her for a few minutes before she could cum. I told her how much I missed her, and Elizabeth said she felt exactly the same. Then she asked me if I really meant what I wrote in my notes, that I thought about her all the time, especially when I was jacking off. Sure, I said, all the time. Did I ever think about her being … naked?xxx pornYeah! Boy, did I. I told her I had been wondering what she looked like, especially ever since that night she put my hand inside her pants. Elizabeth smiled and said would I like to find out for real? I thought she was gonna strip right then, but she said we should go back to our rooms before anyone noticed. But if I really wanted to see her naked, she said, I should just wait and see what happened the next night after dinner. She wouldn’t tell me any more. All that day in school I was going around with a permanent hard-on, thinking about getting to see my sister in the nude. I figured she had a great body, from what I’d been able to see of it and what I’d felt. I was a little worried about her maybe wanting to see me nude too. I’m kind of scrawny and I figured she’d be disappointed, and maybe she wouldn’t want to make out with me any more. But I tried to stop thinking about that and just concentrate on her. After dinner I had to finish up some homework, and I raced through it to make sure I would be downstairs as soon as I could. I didn’t know what to expect, but I didn’t want to risk missing out on whatever it was. There was no way Elizabeth was gonna show me any skin with everybody else around, unless maybe she’d figured out some way to do it where no one but me could see. But I figured if she did that I probably wouldn’t be able to do much touching, and that would be a pain. I knew that once I saw her naked I’d want to kiss and lick every inch of her. When I finally finished my homework, I took the stairs two at a time going down, but nothing seemed to be happening. Elizabeth was just reading a book, and Mom was sorting through some mail while Dad balanced the checkbook. My sister gave me a wink when I came down, but she didn’t say anything. I flipped on the TV and sat back to see what would happen. When Mom finished with the mail, she started to get up but Elizabeth came up and stopped her. My sister said that she’d had an offer from one of her teachers to babysit their kids New Year’s Eve, which was just a couple of weeks away. Mom cross-examined her about who the teacher was and how old the kids were — four-year-old twins — and how late she’d be. Elizabeth said she was supposed to be over there at six and they weren’t expected back until two or three in the morning, so she would sleep over. Mom sounded doubtful. Elizabeth begged a little, and even asked Dad what he thought. He said he didn’t like the idea of her being alone with those kids for so long on New Year’s, when who knew what people would be doing. That’s when Elizabeth asked if it would be OK if she had someone else with her. Mom said it would be all right as long as it was some friend they knew and could trust. My sister said she couldn’t ask any of her friends because then she’d have to split the pay — so how about if I came along? I must have looked really surprised, because Dad laughed and said it didn’t look like I was interested. Of course, the joke was on him because I knew now what Elizabeth had planned, and I was absolutely interested. I figured I better not show it too much, though, or they might get suspicious. I hemmed and hawed, but in the end I let my Mom talk me into doing it. The next two weeks seemed to take forever. I mean, Christmas came along, and usually that was my favorite day of the whole year, but now it was just another day that I couldn’t do anything with Elizabeth because there were too many people around. We did kiss under the mistletoe, but I couldn’t even stick my tongue in her mouth. Finally New Year’s Eve arrived. The other kids teased us about missing the big family celebration — which was a real tease, because all we ever did was have cocoa while we watched TV. I was real careful to hide how excited I was, but it was tough because my cock felt harder and bigger than ever and every time I caught a glimpse of Elizabeth or heard her voice my dick jerked. We got over to the Maxwell’s house — that was the couple we were babysitting for — about 6, just before they left for their party. They told us there was lots of food and pop in the fridge, and left the phone number in case of trouble. I didn’t pay much attention, except when they repeated that they wouldn’t be home until 2, and more likely 3. They showed us where the sheets and pillows were to make up the couch — that was where I was going to sleep — and finally got out the door. At 7 we held a New Year’s celebration for the twins with noisemakers and ice cream, figuring that would give them time to wind down and actually get to sleep at 8, their normal bedtime. It worked. We waited until 8:30, just to make sure they were really asleep. When Elizabeth peeked in their room, both the girls were out, snoring quietly. While we had waited for them to settle down and drift off, Elizabeth and me had been kissing and hugging on the couch, so my cock was in agony pressing against my jeans and my hormones were at their peak. I could hardly wait for what would come next. Elizabeth told me to wait in the guest room, where she was supposed to sleep, while she got ready. She cautioned me not to take off anything except my shoes and socks, because she didn’t “want to miss any of the show.” I jumped on the bed to wait for her. She was gone awhile. I wondered if maybe she was gonna change into something sexy like the women in the magazines wear — you know, some kind of sheer nightgown or panties with the crotch cut out. I’d seen Elizabeth around the house in her pajamas or nightgowns, but those never showed too much. Of course, that didn’t mean I didn’t like looking at her in them, anyway, but I did think about what she might look like in something fancy. But when she came into the room she was dressed just like before — a loose-fitting pair of jeans, a blue blouse with long sleeves and a white sweater-vest. Nothing fancy. I guess I must have showed my disappointment, because she laughed and asked if I was expecting maybe Raquel Welch. I got afraid she might think I didn’t like her so I started to tell her how pretty she was, but she told me it was all right. Then she crawled onto the bed with me and we started kissing and stuff. It was good, like always, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what was ahead. I think Elizabeth was anxious, too, because before too long she got off the bed. We stood a few feet apart, just kind of looking at each other for a minute. Then Elizabeth asked, was I sure I wanted to do this. I said yeah, was she? I was worried again, maybe she was having second thoughts. But she said she was just making sure, that she didn’t want to push me into anything. Then she looked down at my crotch and said it sure didn’t look like I was being pushed in. She could see my cock was pushing out against my jeans like a balloon getting ready to bust. So she said, would I go first. I said that was no fair, I already had my socks off, so she kicked off her shoes and pointed at me. “Your turn,” she said. I pulled off my sweatshirt. Elizabeth groaned when she saw I still had a T-shirt on underneath, but she went ahead anyway and took off her sweater. I said she should take off her blouse too, and she gave in and did it. She had on a plain white bra, nothing fancy, but I didn’t care. This was the first time I’d gotten a really good look at the breasts I’d had my hands on, and they looked as good as I’d thought. Not real big, but not too small either. They kind of bulged out of the bra a little. It was my turn again, and I took off my T-shirt. I felt ashamed because I had no hair on my chest, so I crossed my arms in front of me. Besides, I didn’t know what else to do with them. Elizabeth started to unzip her jeans. I said she should take off her top first, like I did, but she wouldn’t give in this time. She had on plain white cotton panties. I could see a dark stain on the front again. This was my first look at her full body, in full light. She was round all over — not fat, I mean, but good looking, no bony knees or stuff. I took off my jeans then. When I undid the zipper and pulled them partway down, my boner was set free and stuck the front of my boxers out like a tent. Up till then we really hadn’t shown each other anything we hadn’t already seen. But something was going to change soon, and we both knew it. We just looked at each other again for a minute or so. Then Elizabeth put her hands behind her back. When she brought them forward again, her bra came loose and she tossed it aside. Her breasts sagged just a little, but they still stood out. And now I could see her nipples, and the dark circles around them. I licked my lips, trying to think of something smart to say, but I couldn’t. “So how do I look?” That was Elizabeth. She looked like she didn’t know what to do with her hands, either — she crossed them under her breasts, then put them on her hips, then just hung them at her sides. “You’re beautiful,” I said, and I really meant it. She was. The most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. She took a few steps toward me, and I reached out a hand and brushed it against the side of her breast. The next thing you know, we were hugging and kissing. I couldn’t get over feeling my sister’s breasts pressing into my chest, just skin to skin. After a few minutes, we both stepped back. Neither one of us said a word. I could hear my heart pounding away like a drum, and I was surprised Elizabeth didn’t say anything about it, it seemed so loud.

I took some free days at home after a boring business trip.On these some days, my loving wife was sent…

Another year, another Wimbledon, another semi-final … another match point. Tina had heard it said that history repeats itself, but this was surely pushing it. How could she have been so stupid…? She knew exactly how, of course. Ever since that fateful day this time last year, women’s tennis had changed beyond recognition. The photos in the next day’s papers had won her immediate condemnation from a bunch of people she did not care about, while also earning immediate super-celebrity status as one of the world’s leading sex symbols. The fact that she had ended up losing the match made no difference at all. The job offers came rolling in, though she politely declined all requests that she pose nude for men’s magazines, and her bank balance grew and grew…This fact was not lost on her fellow tennis starlets. At last year’s US Open, a succession of tiny microskirts made their way out on to the courts, and soon Tina found herself facing stiff competition. One girl, in particular, seemed to have hardly any inhibitions at all – her name was Laura Lessing and she had won the hearts and loins of millions of male admirers across the globe. She had first made news by wearing bright red French-cut panties under her short skirt, and though she received reprimands from numerous umpires she continued to wear similar underwear in tournament after tournament. Her skirts were generally not excessively minuscule, but they were made of such a light material that they flew up around her waist at the slightest breeze, and she was not quick to cover her modesty. She obviously adored the limelight.As did Tina, who found herself driven to further exhibitionistic acts on the court just so she could keep herself in the media spotlight. In the French Open, she had worn a skirt that only barely covered her buttocks, with lacy panties beneath. The skirt was made of a stiff material that would neither fly up nor ride up, but whenever she bent over she knew she was showing her panties to the crowds and the cameras.Her fan sites doubled in number, then trebled. Fan mail poured in, as did the contracts, and she carefully ignored the vicious backlash from conservative groups. The people she had intended to thrill were thrilled.For this year’s Wimbledon, she had prepared well. The stretchy skirt idea had been a good one, but it had been flawed. Now, however, she had ironed out the problems. A skirt had been designed and made for her specially – one that would ride up as she moved, but not too quickly. Unlike her night-club skirt of the previous year, this one would not end up around her waist. Indeed, even after the longest, most vigorous points, it would uncover no more than a centimetre of the lower curves of her buttocks. Thus she could be sexy, but safe in the knowledge that she was in control.The dress code for this Wimbledon had been re-written. With new money pouring into the game, big name sponsors had put pressure on the rules committee to allow the female players a little flexibility. In short, the players could wear skirts of any length as long as they covered the buttocks while the player was at rest and standing straight, and the underwear rules had been relaxed to permit any kind of underwear except thongs and g-strings. There had been fierce opposition to these changes, and a few resignations had occurred. But the changes had stuck.So, on the first day of the Wimbledon fortnight, Tina had strode on to the court wearing a semi-stretchy white miniskirt that covered her buttocks with almost an inch to spare, with a pair of pale blue French-cut panties underneath. The outfit had gone down a storm. Every day for the last week and a half, she had graced several pages of each and every tabloid in the country. She practically received a standing ovation every time she walked out on to the court.And today she faced Laura Lessing. Laura had received a similarly rapturous welcome on her first day, as she appeared on court wearing not only her trademark ‘flying’ skirt, but also a tight tank top through which the outline of her bra was clearly visible. The tabloids contained nearly as many photos of Laura as they did of Tina. In fact, over the last couple of days Tina had been incensed to discover herself almost marginalised by full-page spreads of Laura’s latest gimmick – a pair of French-cut panties that had been judiciously altered to turn them almost, but not quite, into a thong. And the committee did not object! This angered Tina. Laura was flouting the new rules and getting away with it!So last night, Tina had decided she was not going to be outdone in her own match. She had summoned her tailor (she never went anywhere without him these days), and given him the job of ‘editing’ her own panties. She showed him the picture of Laura’s bottom adorning the front page of The Quasar. “I want you to make mine even skimpier than that,” she said, “while still not being a thong.”Gerard’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “That … will be tricky,” he remarked. “But I’ll give it a try.”And so he had. The following morning, Tina was impressed with the result.“That will surely slip between my buttocks,” she observed critically.“It will, after a short while,” agreed Gerard. “But it’s not a thong – not quite. And I’m sure you’ll get a kick out of pulling it out of your arse every few points in front of the cameras.”Tina considered this, and a smile came to her lips. “Yes…” she said.“That will be fun.”But Martin, her manager, was outraged when he saw the garment. “You cannot wear that!” he exclaimed. “It’s hardly any bigger than the thong you wore last year! And just remember – you almost got banned from Wimbledon on account of that little stunt.”“It wasn’t a stunt!” objected Tina. “But that’s academic anyway. They’ve relaxed the rules since then, as well you know.”“But there are still rules,” Martin insisted. “And one of them is that thongs aren’t allowed.”“This isn’t a thong,” said Tina.“It virtually is. And when it’s bunched up between your butt cheeks, who’s going to know the difference?”“Who indeed?” Tina smiled wryly. “But I can easily prove to them that it isn’t.”Martin frowned, then turned on his heel and walked away.“He’ll get over it,” Gerard told her. “Now, about this top…”“Oh yes! Do you have it?”“It’s in your bag,” said the tailor. “Check it out – I think you’ll like it.”Tina hurried through to her room and placed the almost-thong on her bed next to her equipment bag. Opening the bag, she smiled as she spotted a white cut-off t-shirt folded neatly on the top. She smiled to herself.This was her latest gambit – exposure of the midriff. She pulled it out and held it up, giggling naughtily. Then she pulled out the miniskirt and sighed happily as she imagined the whole combination. This was going to be a good day. Finally she went through the rest of the equipment in the bag, making sure it was all present. She was not going to make the same mistake she had made this time last year!Placing her racquets in the bag first, she re-packed everything, leaving her clothing until last. She hesitated for a moment, then resisted the temptation to try the clothes on before packing them, too. She laid the panties and the skirt side by side on top of her track suit, then placed the t-shirt on top.“Tina?”She turned around at the sound of her manager’s voice. “Yes Martin?”“Waldo’s here – he wants to talk to you about tonight’s do.”Tina frowned. “Couldn’t he have phoned?”“He was in the hotel,” explained Martin. “Thought he’d ‘just drop by’ or something.”“Okay, I’m coming.” Tina stood up and went out to meet her agent.Waldo was a tall man with a thick crop of wild grey hair that always looked as if he’d been out in a strong wind. He had a habit of finishing every other sentence with “don’t you know” and his eyebrows bobbed up and down as he talked. Tina found him rather intimidating, but he was the best agent she’d had.“Ahem, well Tina, good morning and how do you do,” he pronounced sternly.“I’ve been chewing the old fat with the blokes at the press office and they happened to bring up the subject of interviews, don’t you know. So I thought to myself, as I am wont to do, ‘now here if I am not greatly mistaken is an opportunity old boy’ and …”Tina only half-listened, fascinated by his eyebrows, as Waldo trundled on through a terribly one-sided conversation at the end of which he paused, awaiting her response. She shook herself. “Ah, whatever you think is best, Waldo,” she said. “I trust your judgment.”“Most gratifying I am sure, well I’ll be tootling off now if you’ll pardon my flying visit – oh and I have another advertising contract I need to discuss with you, but it can wait until tonight, what? Or even tomorrow don’t you know. Toodle-pip.” And with that he swept out of the room.“We should be leaving,” said Martin, coming back into the room. “Are you ready?”“Sure,” said Tina. “Let me grab my bag.”She walked back into her bedroom and reached down to zip up her bag. Then she stopped. Something was not quite right. Her eyes narrowing, she slid her hand down the side of the bag and pulled out a white object that she had just glimpsed the corner of. It was a pair of conservative white panties.Annoyed, she flung them on to the floor. “Thought you’d try to convince me of the error of my ways, did you Martin?” she muttered.She said nothing to Martin as they left the hotel, and only in the car did she finally break her silence. “Honestly Martin,” she reprimanded him.“Sometimes you act just like my mother.”“Huh?” Martin looked puzzled.“The panties?”“Oh.” Martin flushed and responded defensively, “Well I’m sorry, but there are limits, you know.”“Just forget it,” said Tina.In the Centre Court changing rooms she met up with her arch-rival, and today’s opponent, Laura Lessing. “Hi,” said Tina rather coldly.“Hi Tina!” Laura gushed. “Wow, I’m so happy to be playing against you at last! You are my absolute hero, you know.”Tina was utterly disarmed, and found herself rather flustered. “Well, I…” she began. “Thank you! That’s nice of you to say so.”“I think it’s great what you’ve done for women’s tennis,” continued Laura.“You’ve possibly seen my, um … tributes … to your groundbreaking stunt last year…”“It wasn’t…” Tina began, before changing her mind. “Well, I guess I always figured you were trying to outdo me,” she said. “You must admit you’ve become rather popular yourself…”“I know!” Laura’s eyes were like saucers, as if she could barely comprehend the idea. “Isn’t it amazing? I mean, I’m nowhere near as pretty as you – I’m just overwhelmed at the attention I’ve got.”Tina chuckled. “Have you ever thought of, you know, toning it down a little?”Laura looked surprised. “Why, no,” she said. “Have you?” But she did not wait for a response before continuing in a conspiratorial whisper, “I just love to go a little further each time, you see. I know sooner or later I’ll get into trouble, but isn’t it amazing what they’ll let you get away with this year?”“Yes, it is,” agreed Tina. She sighed and began to undress. “Guess we’d better get into our skimpy outfits then.”Laura giggled. “Ooh yes,” she said.Tina pulled her t-shirt and skirt out of her bag, then stared into her bag in horror. Her heart plummeted into her shoes. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed.“What is it?” asked Laura in alarm.“My panties! They’re not here!”“What? Are you sure?”Tina suddenly realised with a shock that Martin had not only placed a conservative pair of panties in her bag, he had removed the other pair at the same time! “I don’t believe it!” she said. “My manager’s taken them out!”“Can’t you wear what you’re wearing now?” inquired Laura. “As I understand it, that’s what you did last year.”“I’m not wearing underwear,” hissed Tina sharply.“Ah,” said Laura. “Oops.”“Hey, are you wearing panties?” asked Tina on a sudden thought.“Yes but…”“Great! Can I wear them?”“No! I’m wearing the ones I’ll be wearing on the court!”“Oh.” Tina was crestfallen. “Good grief, what a fix.”“What skirt have you got?” inquired Laura.Tina showed her.Laura nodded. “Ah yes, I know that one. It doesn’t ride up much, does it?”“Not much,” conceded Tina. “But enough, probably.”“Maybe not, if you’re careful. And won’t it be awesome? Think of it – the first woman to play tennis at a Grand Slam tournament without panties!” Tina groaned. “I suppose it’s possible I might get away with it,” she said. “But I’ll be giving you the advantage.”Laura waved her hand dismissively. “Nonsense,” she said airily. “You’re the better player – you’ll have no problems.”Tina stared at Laura, perplexed. “What kind of pep-talk do you give yourself?” she inquired. “Are you expecting to lose?”“I don’t mind.” Laura shrugged. “I’m just out to play my best and have a good time. I don’t have any illusions.”Tina shook her head in great puzzlement, then sighed as she considered her position. Eventually she decided to bite the bullet, and changed into her miniskirt, sports bra and cut-off t-shirt. The latter item caught her by surprise – it was far tighter than she had imagined.Laura whistled. “Wow, sexy!” Tina chuckled. The top really was tight – it clung to every curve of her breasts and the bra beneath made highly visible ridges in its fabric. She decided she rather liked the effect.But then she noticed what Laura was wearing. She gasped. “Oh my goodness!” Laura had really pulled out all the stops, knowing she was up against the woman who had started the whole revolution in women’s tennis wear. Her light skirt had been drastically reduced in length – it barely covered her buttocks – and she was wearing a tight lycra crop-top that made Tina’s t-shirt seem almost conservative. “How do I look?” she asked.“You look … naked!” exclaimed Tina.Laura giggled. “Why thank you!” she said.The two girls donned their track suits and walked out to meet the crowd, to whistles and cheers and great applause. They lapped it up. Then Martin arrived.“Where have you been?” Tina hissed.“Getting a drink,” he said. “What’s up?”“What’s up??” Tina fought to control her anger. “Martin you idiot, I didn’t realise you’d taken my panties out of my bag!”“Huh?”“Those ones you put in there – I threw them away! Now I have nothing!” Martin gasped in shock. “Oh … my … God,” he managed at last.“Tell me about it. Now do you think you can go and get me some?”“Well, I’ll try,” he said, “but you know what the traffic’s like. Remember the last time?”“You don’t need to go all the way back to the hotel,” she told him. “Just find a clothes shop.”Martin nodded. “Okay,” he said, and hurried off.The sky was overcast as the two girls took off their track suits to rapturous applause. Cameras snapped in their hundreds. Tina had stomach butterflies as she began her warm up with a few serves from the right-hand side of the court. But her skirt stayed put (pretty much), and she made sure its hem stayed well below her buttocks. The breeze on her naked pussy made her feel terribly uneasy, but she forced herself not to think about it, and tried to concentrate on serving well.Meanwhile, Laura was getting all the attention. She was leaping high in every serve, her skirt flying up to reveal a pair of white silk panties that were almost as small as the ones Tina had been planning to wear. And they looked as if they were several sizes too small. Already the material at the back was creeping between her buttocks, and she made no attempt to rectify the situation. And she took her time about bending over (with straight legs) to pick up balls from the grass.Tina was a little relieved not to have all the cameras scrutinising her, but also rather annoyed that the crowd was watching Laura and not her.Nevertheless, she did not dare to let her skirt ride any higher than it was doing already, so she forced herself to ignore her opponent’s exhibitionistic antics and the crowd’s response.The match began. As expected, Tina’s skirt did not ride up much, and she began to relax a little. She was careful not to allow any point to go on for too long (sometimes this meant giving Laura the occasional point, but she could afford them), and gradually she began to feel that she was, after all, in control. After four games, the score was 3:1, and Tina was about to serve in the fifth when it began to rain.It was just a light drizzle, but after only a couple of points the grass was beginning to get slippery, and after a meaningful glance from Tina, the umpire ordered the covers to be brought out. Tina was relieved – it would buy her some time before Martin got back.But the covers were not on for long. Five minutes later the rain had ceased, and the players were cleared to resume the game. This they did, but this time Laura had the advantage. The damp grass caused them both to slip on several occasions, but whereas Laura took this in her stride, relishing the opportunity to flash her panties yet again, Tina could not afford to let her skirt ride up at all. So she played it safe, taking only small steps, while Laura capitalised on the opportunity to break serve for the first time.The drizzle began again in the next game, but stopped after only a couple of minutes. Tina was by now getting rather frustrated. She lost to Laura’s serve, then lost her own serve after that. Things were not going well. On the positive side, the rain was causing her t-shirt to cling even tighter to her chest, and the material was even easier to see through now that it was damp.Laura could not help but notice this as she came all the way up to the net to slam home a winning cross-court volley. She realised that her own crop top was not the type of garment to turn transparent in the rain, and she wished she had thought to wear a thin t-shirt like Tina’s. But perhaps there was something else she could do…At the beginning of the ninth game, with the score at 5:3 (to Laura), Tina bounced a ball in front of her, glancing occasionally at her opponent. She watched as Laura hopped from one foot to the other, bouncing on the spot, and then frowned. Laura seemed a little more … bouncy? than usual.And then she realised the startling truth: that her opponent had taken off her bra! Laura’s crop top was now bouncing under the influence of a pair of decidedly unfettered breasts (and Laura’s chest was fairly large for a tennis player).“Two can play at that game,” thought Tina to herself, and she clenched her teeth in a new resolve.Determined to pull herself back into the match, Tina began to take a few more risks. She managed to win her serve, but then had a nasty fright in Laura’s service game. While running at full-stretch to intercept an attempted pass, she slipped and abruptly did the splits (almost) on the damp grass. She squealed in horror and immediately closed her legs, pulling her skirt down to cover her neatly-trimmed pubic hair.There were one or two puzzled stares from the crowd, but the glimpse had been too brief for them to be sure about what they had seen. Tina could almost hear their comments: “Did you just see what I saw? Well, I’m not sure… it looked like she’s not wearing panties… Of course, I could be wrong…”She got to her feet, somewhat rattled, and returned to the baseline. The next couple of points went badly, and soon she found herself facing the wrong end of a set point. Biting her lip in anxiety, she was almost wrong-footed as the ball came hurtling down the court to her right-hand side. She launched herself towards it.Her foot slipped, and shot backwards. She sank to the floor as the ball whipped past her unmet. Her skirt had ridden up again and she hastily pulled it down as she got to her feet. Again, the whispers…“Game and first set to Miss Lessing,” announced the umpire.Tina sighed unhappily and prepared to serve. The lack of a bra certainly had not severely handicapped her opponent’s game. In fact, she seemed to have acquired a new confidence and was making very few errors. Still, her serve was not strong and could be beaten.By serving well, and taking some judicious risks, Tina succeeded in winning her service game. Smiling to herself as she sat down, she decided to up the stakes in the battle for the press’s attention. As surreptitiously as she could, she unclasped her bra and slipped it off, pulling it out through the left arm-hole of her t-shirt and dropping it into her bag. Immediately the damp t-shirt clung to her bare breasts, and with an involuntary shiver she realised she could just make out her nipples through the thin material. She was sure that the press cameras would also be able to see them.Without bra or panties, she walked out on to the court in just a cut-off t-shirt and a microskirt. Feeling naked and vulnerable but also rather aroused, she winked at Laura before her opponent served. The sensation of playing with no restraints on her breasts, however, was too unfamiliar and her return went wide. Laura’s next serve she pounded back into the net.Cursing to herself, she prepared to try again. She was annoyed with herself for having so much difficulty playing without a bra, when Laura seemed to be managing just fine.‘She probably practices without a bra all the time,’ she thought to herself suddenly. ‘Oh heck, what have I let myself in for?’ She lost that game, and then her own service game. Now 2:1 down, she watched as Laura prepared to serve once again. Her nineteen-year-old opponent’s crop top seemed a little skimpier somehow, and Tina frowned.What had the dratted girl done now? A brief rendezvous at the net in the next point answered her question.Laura had folded over part of her top, so that not only was it now more revealing, but it was also serving to keep her breasts in place more effectively. This was a clever plan, but it was risky – too much bouncing and Laura’s breasts would pop out from underneath the crop top. No doubt that added to the girl’s thrill.The drizzle began again, but not before Tina had broken serve, and then held on to her own serve, to bring the score to 3:2. As the two girls sat down in their respective places, the umpire leaned over to speak to Tina.“Miss Hathaway?” he said.Tina looked up guiltily. She folded her arms across her chest, convinced he was going to reprimand her for removing her bra. But she was mistaken.“How’s the court?” he asked. “I’m considering abandoning play, but it’s up to you two. Miss Lessing is happy to continue, so it’s your decision.”Tina thought for a moment. Martin was not back yet, but he surely would be soon. And she was beginning to play better now. Finally she was back in the lead, and she was becoming confident she could stay ahead until the end of this set. Furthermore, she was enjoying the way the drizzle was making her t-shirt more see-through every minute. “I’m okay for the moment,” she said. “It’s not that bad out there.”“Very well,” said the umpire, nodding.Tina took a swig from her water bottle, then got up and returned to the court.Two lost games later, she was regretting her decision. The drizzle had stopped, but the ground was still rather wet and slippery. She no longer felt she had an excuse for requesting that play be abandoned, and her t-shirt was not getting any more transparent. Facing what could possibly be her penultimate game of this tournament, she decided to go all out in her efforts to win the publicity battle. If she could not win the match, at least she could still steal the next day’s headlines from that upstart Laura.Carefully and deliberately, she poured the remaining contents of her water bottle over her chest, making sure she covered both breasts equally. The material quickly turned almost completely transparent, and despite herself she gasped at the sight of her breasts staring back at her. The wet t-shirt clung tightly to every contour and concealed nothing.Holding her head high (while trying not to meet anyone’s gaze), she marched out on to the court once again. Laura did the same, but then her jaw dropped as she saw Tina’s transformation. Tina saw her giggle and then hold up a thumb in admiring support.“Miss Hathaway…” came the umpire’s voice over the loudspeaker.Tina trotted over to speak to him.The umpire leaned over and said, “Enough is enough, Miss Hathaway. This is not a wet t-shirt contest, it is a tennis match. The new rules regarding the dress code are there to encourage freedom of expression, not indecent behaviour. Do you have another shirt?”“I’m afraid not,” confessed Tina.The umpire sighed. “And where is your bra?”“It broke,” Tina lied.“All right, but one more lewd act on your part and I will disqualify you and ban you from the tournament. The whole tone of this event has dropped through the floor, and I’m damned if I’m going to take it any more.”Tina nodded. “I understand.” Rather subdued, she returned to the court.The game went badly. Tina found her t-shirt highly distracting, and with every bounce it rode higher and higher and threatened to expose her breasts to the world. Soon it was revealing as much flesh as Laura’s crop top.Nevertheless, she liked the effect and did not attempt to replace it, until she heard a warning cough from the umpire. She hastily pulled it down.She lost that game, and prepared to serve to stay in the match. She served well, but a good return surprised her and she failed to clear the net with her follow-up shot. Then she noticed that her vigorous serve had resulted in her t-shirt being hoisted up high on her chest. Only a half-inch of material extended below the lower curve of her breasts. Rather reluctantly, she pulled the t-shirt down.The next few serves had similar effects, but a longer point almost resulted in her breasts popping free of the t-shirt entirely. She won two points, but also lost two.So now she was at match point, again, and this time her predicament was even worse. What could she do? If she preserved her modesty and lost, was that any better than going all out and perhaps being banned from the rest of the tournament? Probably not.She served, and at once felt her t-shirt climb up again. But she ignored it and concentrated on trying to predict where Laura’s return would end up.It was short – that was good. Tina raced forward and whipped the ball over to the far corner. But Laura, realising the danger, was already almost there. She hammered it back down the line, and Tina had to lunge to reach it. She made it, just, and the ball bounced high off her racquet – a mis-hit.Laura was quick to take advantage, her chest bouncing as she ran around the back of the ball. She attempted to fire it down the right-hand line, but Tina caught it at the net with a drop volley. However, it bounced harder off her racquet than she had intended, leaving Laura with an easy opportunity for a lob. Tina raced backwards, only to find to her horror that Laura was not going for the lob at all. She was responding with a drop shot of her own.Tina sprinted forwards, just reaching the ball in time. But as she dug her feet in to brake herself, they slid on the wet grass, shooting right under the net. Tina yelped as she fell to the ground and slid forwards on her back. Her skirt, caught by the net as she passed beneath it, was yanked up to her waist. Her t-shirt was pulled up by sheer friction, both on the ground and on the bottom of the net, until it was wrapped around her neck.At this point Tina came to an abrupt halt, with her head on one side of the net and her rather unclothed body on the other.The crowd fell into a stunned silence, then erupted in a cacophony of wolf-whistles, cheers and thunderous applause. The umpire’s announcement of “Game, set and match to Miss Lessing” went completely unheard. Laura, meanwhile, walked over to where Tina was lying with her pussy and breasts fully exposed to the crowd and to the world’s photographers. She looked down at Tina and smiled.“You win,” she said.THE END