FOREWORD
Beneath the outward serenity of rural America run the same passions that we find in big cities and sprawling suburbia. Criminal acts are more apparent in the cities, but the same forces that drive urban man to crime are at work in our rural areas. So too are the forces that drive people to the pleasures of the flesh.
The characters in this story are a case in point. Outwardly a respectable Southern family, behind closed doors many of them are sexual libertines -- particularly the teenage son and daughter of the wealthy patriarch and landowner who rules the sprawling plantation where this story takes place -- stopping at nothing to satisfy their bodies' cravings. But normal day-to-day life goes on, the family prospers, everyone, it seems, is happy. They feel neither guilt, nor a need to apologize for their actions.
There are everyday people. Responsible. Respectable. Solid citizens of their community. Yet they are people trapped in their flesh, unable, no, unwilling to control their sexual drives as long as no one is hurt by them. They have given themselves over to the pleasurable. But are they so different from the rest of us?
KISS IT, SIS -- a novel that gives added insight into the passions we all must deal with.
The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
"I be dawged if I ever thought I'd see a son of mine cryin' -- cryin' -- at his own wedding!"
The big man with the Deep South accent was talking to no one in particular, and nobody in particular paid much attention to his complaint. The guests were too busy refilling their plates from the piled-high dishes on the trestle table in the shade of the huge live oak tree.
"Fill it again, Josh!" The big man held his half-empty glass toward an old black man who walked among the guests, lugging a gallon jug. "Bawlin' like a baby!"
The shriveled-up old lady seated in a lawn chair looked at the shapely blonde sitting next to her.
"He! He! He! Ty sure is taking on about Bobby Lee, ain't he?"
"He sure is, Aunt Minerva. Wonder why?" She brushed a long strand of yellow-gold hair back from her face and forked a bite of barbecued pork from her plate. What Sue Robin Forsythe was actually wondering was, what had gone wrong? Her big handsome twin brother had just got himself married to the prettiest girl in town, but instead of grinning all over like a tomcat on the prowl, he had wiped away tears twice during the ceremony. Like her father had said.
She knew her brother like few sisters know their brothers; Buz didn't cry easy. In fact, she could only remember once that he'd cried. That was when they were eleven or twelve years old, and his collie got hit by a truck. Buz had taken his father's shotgun and finished off the suffering creature. Then, while the two of them were digging a grave for the dog, Buz had begun sobbing.
"Well, I guess we won't know for a few days. The honeymooners are honeymooning off somewhere by now. He! He! Sue Robin, would you tell Josh to fix me a mint julep? I can't drink that white lightning straight like your pa."
It was long after dark before the last of the wedding guests left the spacious grounds of Tyrus Forsythe's estate. Sue Robin went upstairs to her room, eager to get out of the flouncy frock and other semiformal clothes she had worn since the midday wedding ceremony. Blue jeans or cut-off shorts were more her style.
Kicking her bedroom door shut behind her, she reached behind her back and quickly unzipped the frock. In a moment it dropped to her feet and she stepped out of it. The half-slip dropped next. She walked over and stood before the wall mirror that reached from the floor to well above her head.
"Not bad," she murmured, smiling with honest pleasure at the supple grace of her firmly molded body. Reaching back, she unsnapped her bra and let it fall, watching in the mirror as her breasts remained standing with hardly a quiver, as solid as barely ripe cantaloupes. One thing Sue Robin couldn't stand, and that was women who let themselves get flabby, especially young women.
Through her sheer pantyhose she saw the hair-shadowed contour of her cunt. Impatiently she kicked off her pumps, then peeled off the pantyhose. Standing naked before the mirror, she was still a tall girl, even without her pumps.
"Five feet, eight inches," she mused aloud as she moved through some stylized postures remembered from her ballet lessons as a young girl. Straight as a cane fishing pole, Sue Robin had never suffered from the self-consciousness of many tall girls, because her twin brother had always been a few inches taller than she. When she walked beside his six-foot-one athletic frame, she walked proudly erect.
She brushed her sun-bleached hair back over her shoulders with both hands, and the gesture threw her high-arched breasts even higher. Smiling, she cupped her hands beneath them and squeezed gently. They felt humid to her palms, reminding her that she wanted to step into a cool shower.
Before she reached the door of her bathroom, the phone rang. Without bothering to slip on a wrap of any kind, she darted across to her bedside table and picked up the receiver.
"Sis?" came through the wire.
"Buz! Where are you? What are you doing? Or shouldn't I ask?"
Instead of a lascivious chuckle greeting her pointed question, her brother's voice sounded as if be had just lost his best friend.
"We're over at Sasser's Cove, Sis. Mary Beth is in the hotel room with a headache and I'm in the bar. Can you come over?"
Nearly twenty miles, Sue Robin thought quickly. If she took the coast road and the traffic was light, she could be there in less than half an hour. "Okay, Buz. Don't get soused. I'll be right there."
Jerking open the bottom drawer of the old-fashioned chiffonier near the bathroom door, she pulled out a pair of chopped-off jeans and pulled them on without bothering to put on panties. From the closet she took down a shirt and slipped it on.
"No bare feet in the bar at Sasser's Cove Hotel," she reminded herself, and got a pair of sandals from the closet. Then she hurried down the stairs and out to the side driveway where her MG was parked.
From a downstairs bedroom window Aunt Minerva peeked out at the little sports car as it roared down the long winding driveway to the highway.
"He! He! He!" laughed the wizened old lady. At nearly eighty, her eyes were still sharp enough that she didn't need to wear glasses. Good eyesight was one of the chief pleasures Aunt Minerva still enjoyed.
Sue Robin's pleasures were more physical, like the sheer delight of feeling her long hair streaming out behind her as she sped along the narrow coastal road. A half-moon flashed obliquely against the sea, and the smell of the salt air was stimulating. With one hand on the wheel, she caressed her bare thigh with the other. Sue had no hang ups about the sensual enjoyment of her own body.
Only right now her enjoyment was diluted by concern for Buz. Something was wrong, bad wrong. She had felt it at the wedding when she saw the tears on his cheeks. Well, a few more minutes and she'd know what was what.
The tall, broad-shouldered young man was alone at one end of the bar. The bartender's eyes narrowed as he looked up and down the curvy blonde who had just walked in wearing a pair of extremely short shorts and a partly buttoned shirt, the ends tied in a knot across her bare midriff.
"I've got my sandals on, Mike," Sue Robin laughed, poising effortlessly on one leg while she raised the other leg waist-high and extended it toward the bartender.
"I oughta change that sign to read, 'decent clothes required'," Mike growled, but the gleam in his eyes was more than disapproval.
Hard shell hypocrite, she thought contemptuously. You've got a hard-on in both eyes. But her smile was sweetly innocent.
"Sis!" Bobby Lee Forsythe had turned around on his stool. "Put it on my tab, Mike," he said over his shoulder to the bartender, and hurried to his twin. "Come on outside. I've got
ta talk to you."
"What's the problem, Buz?"
"Let's get away from here. I'll tell you."
"Do you want to go in my car?"
"No, we'll take mine."
She followed him around to the parking slots in front of the seacoast hotel. Not many customers, she thought, noting how few the cars were. She saw Bobby Lee's Capri at once.
They didn't talk while Bobby Lee drove away from the hotel, on down the coastal highway to a large cleared area against the beach. He drove in and parked.
"Wow!" Sue Robin exclaimed. "After Labor Day, this place goes dead."
"Yeah," Bobby Lee grunted. "Let's walk on the beach."
They left their shoes in the car and walked barefoot down to the water's edge, then paced slowly along the deserted beach. The half-moon cast their shadows feebly ahead of them. Sue Robin slipped her arm about her brother's waist and his arm went about her shoulders.
"Well?" she said after a while.
"It's short and not so sweet, Sis. She's frigid."
"What!" Sue Robin stopped dead in her tracks. "Mary Beth! Frigid?"
"Ya all."
"Jumpin' Jupiter!" The childhood exclamation burst from her lips. "She's got to be the sexiest-looking woman in town. You're not pulling some kind of joke, are you, Buz?"
"I wish I was."
They walked on slowly, and Sue Robin held his hand comfortingly as she had always held it. "Want to tell me about it?"
"Yeah. That's why I called you. I don't know what to do."
"Is that why you were crying at the wedding today?"
"I guess so." He stopped walking. "Let's go up here on the edge of the dunes and sit down. This calls from some thinking."
And some explaining, she thought. It was hard to believe. Mary Beth Dumont had always been the prettiest girl in Maxwell. And when she got to high school, her figure had already filled out, voluptuous and enticing. That knowing look and come-on smile! She couldn't believe it. She simply couldn't believe it.
"If you were crying before you went on your honeymoon, you must've known already, Buz. So why didn't you get out of the situation long ago?"
They sat down in the soft sand.
"Because I didn't find out until last night. I never could make out with Mary Beth before, but last night I was so hard up I told her, hell, woman, we're getting married tomorrow. Let's do it now. We did, and it was lousy."
"How do you mean, Buz? Was she a virgin?"
"Yeah. Frankly, Sis, I'd never have believed it. You know she's always turned guys on. And that walk and the way she talks, you'd think she'd be a volcano in the sack." He grunted. "She's an iceberg."
"Did you -- uh -- hurt her?"
"Naw. Her cherry gave way like it was hardly there. A few drops of blood. Maw, I didn't hurt her. Hell, she didn't feel it. She didn't feel anything. Just shut her eyes tight and clenched her teeth. Lay there like a damn log."
He sighed and ran his fingers through the sand. "I had a feeling, a bad feeling. I guess that's why I cried today, though I didn't really know I was crying until I heard Pa holler something after the ceremony was over. Imagine being stuck for life with a frigid woman, a beautiful, sexy-looking iceberg."
"Tonight?" Sue Robin pursued.
"Even worse. She acted so skittish, I asked her if she wanted a cocktail before we went to bed. She said something like 'that's all you men care about -- drinking and screwing'."
"That's really bad," Sue Robin agreed. "Is her family holy-roller, or something?"
"I don't know. But she's got some nutty ideas from somewhere."
"Frankly, Buz, I'm surprised you didn't check things out before. You know, really get to know each other."
"Hell, I thought I did know her. Sex was the least of my worries. I know every son-of-a-bitch in Maxwell is eating his heart out tonight, thinking I've got the finest piece of ass in the world."
"Crudely put, old boy."
"But you know it's true."
"Then you didn't even score on your wedding night?"
"It was worse than not at all. She went into the bathroom to undress and put on a long nightgown. When I came to bed, she made me turn out all the lights. She did it like she was performing a duty, and just as soon as I got my cookies, she moaned that she had a headache. She took a sleeping pill and I went into the bar and called you."
"You could get a divorce."
"She's not about to give me a divorce. Crazy thing, I think she really loves me. It's just this sex hang up. If there was some way to break her loose from that..."
"Poor fellow," Sue Robin said soothingly. "We'll figure out something. Meanwhile, a man shouldn't miss out on his wedding night." Her fingers stroked lightly along the top of his thigh, and she shifted her position so that she sat beside him, facing the sea.
He put his arm about her shoulder, then slid his hand down and under her armpit to fondle her breast through the thin shirt. He felt the nipple swell into a hard cone.
Sue Robin unbuttoned the shirt and untied the knot at the waist so his hand could cover her bare breast. She caught her breath as his palm slid across the sensitive nipple.
"Does Mary Beth have nice boobs?"
He laughed, and Sue Robin was relieved at the return of his usual lightheartedness. "You women! All the same, wanting to know how you stack up beside some other woman."
"Not exactly all the same," Sue Robin said roguishly, pinching his cock teasingly through his trousers. "Does Mary Beth play with it like that?"
"Hell, Sis, when I put her hand on it, she snatched it away like she had touched a rattlesnake. Ah, that feels good!" He lay back and propped on his elbows in the sand. The skilled fingers quickly unzipped his trousers, then unbuckled his belt. He raised his hips up to let her slide his pants and undershorts down.
"Poor little fellow sure looks discouraged," she murmured, bending her head over his limp dong. She slid her hand between his thighs and under his balls, to cup them and fondle them gently in her warm palm. As her probing finger tips stroked the sensitive flesh of his crotch, he spread his legs farther apart to give her better access.
"Great, Sis," he sighed, lying back with his hands clasped behind his head and resting on the sand. He knew he could count on Sis; she was the greatest. He forgot about his iceberg wife while her other hand began to stroke his slowly hardening cock.
"Mmmmmmmmmm!" she exclaimed. "He's looking more normal all the time, Buz. I think the patient will live." She hooked her fingernails delicately under the wide flange of his cockhead and pulled, then raked the points of her nails around the smooth, stretched skin. His hips quivered as darts of excitement shot through his cock and spread throughout his groin.
His tool was up and throbbing now, its full length rearing up in the dim moonlight like a miniature tower of worship of some primitive tribe. Sue Robin's hand closed over the swollen knob and squeezed.
"Is that better, Buz?" she whispered, her long hair trailing across his belly and thighs.
"Oh Lordy yes!" he gasped, thrusting his hips in short thrusts to feel his supercharged cock push into the warm softness of her squeezing hand.
Her other hand was still caressing and palming his balls, and her middle finger slid on under and up, to tickle the puckered ring of his asshole.
"Maybe we can teach Mary Beth to play games like this," she mused. "She'll get her kicks, too."
He felt her warm breath playing up and down the shaft of his rigid tool as her head went lower, and her hand slid off his cockhead and encircled the shaft about midway down. This always brought back a quick memory, old but ever fresh. He had been a tiny kid, not even five years old yet, and somehow he'd pinched his little dong on the seat of his new tricycle. At his cry of pain, Sue Robin had come hurrying to him, always the solicitous sister.
"What's the matter, Buz?"
"I pinched my peter. It hurts!"
"Let's see."
He dropped his shorts and showed her the vanishing pinch mark in the flesh, just behind the pin
k head. "Kiss it, Sis, and make it well."
Obediently she had dropped to her knees and taken the painfully throbbing rod of flesh in her mouth, holding it snugly with her lips while she laved it with her soothing tongue. His grubby little fingers stroked her blonde head while she continued to suck and lick his cock. The pain went away, and was followed by a feeling of concentrated delight such as he'd never felt before. He felt that something was happening to his peter.
She felt it, too, for she took her mouth off it and looked at it. "Oh, Buz, look how big it's getting!"
The little thing was rearing up at a high angle from his belly, and the pink head was twice its usual size.
"It's like a lollipop!" she exclaimed.
"Kiss it again, Sis!"
Delighted, she went down on it again, instinctively sucking and licking it like a candy stick. Finally it had gotten so sensitive he dragged it out of her reluctant mouth. "Gee, Sis, that feels good!" He pulled his pants up.
"Yeah," she agreed, licking her lips. "It's nice."
It was a game they never gave up, and through the years, into high school, and even when they'd started to college a year ago, from time to time he would look at Sue Robin and say, "Kiss it, Sis." Or, if they were in a suitable situation and the mood hit her, she'd say, "Let me kiss it Buz."
The situation was suitable now. Bobby Lee lay flat on his back on the sand, moaning first with frustration, then with mounting ecstasy as Sue Robin flicked her tongue tip rapidly up and down the shaft of his engorged cock. Like a tiny jackhammer her tongue pecked along the bulging tube on the underside of his shaft, up to the sensitive cord joining the head, and back down again to his balls.
He reached a hand down to stroke her hair. Maybe it was true what they said about twins, he thought. Maybe they were mind-readers of each other. Sue Robin knew just exactly where to touch him and how much pressure to put on and he groaned as she touched a particularly sensitive spot under the rim of his cockhead. If only Mary Beth would develop this art.
Sue Robin rounded her lips in a tight ring and forced them down over his bulging cockhead. Down she went until the knob blocked her throat, then slowly she came back up again.
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