When Peter woke up he felt hungover. His head thundered and his body ached in places he didn't know it was possible to hurt in. Looking in the mirror he saw teeth marks on his chest and long, vivid nail marks were still visible on his back. No wonder I hurt, he thought. Looking around he saw that Jan was gone, but the imprint of her body remained. So it wasn't a dream, he thought, I actually fucked my sister! Not that jerk off kid stuff, but a real, honest to God fucking! And sucking! And . . . shit, what didn't we do?
An image of his sister jumped into his mind: her body bouncing against the mattress, legs tight around his back, her hands gripping his ass. He saw her lust, her wantonness, her desperate desire; felt her tits under his hands; his cock plunging into her depths, stretching her cunt wide; her secretions glistening on his shaft, lubricating his way. He could feel the muscles of her cunt squeeze his prick in a death grip as her climax ripped through her churning body, his own following seconds later, their juices mixing together.
He shivered and shook himself to clear his head. The mental pictures were too vivid, too real. Just thinking about last night made his breathing ragged and stiffened his prick. He threw cold water on his face, dried himself then grabbed his pants and went downstairs. There was no one in the den. The television was still on; actually the VCR, but the tape had finished and the picture tube flashed a surreal image. He turned the TV off and hit the Rewind switch on the VCR, went to the kitchen and drank a tall glass of cold orange juice then poured another. He was beginning to feel alive again, but the revitalization began to focus his thoughts more coherently.
He had fucked his sister! And she had fucked him right back! Incest! He was rational enough to know it was not biological incest; the Brady Boys and the Brady girls were adopted, but it was moral incest; a relationship outside of contemporary community standards. To the world outside, it would be incest!
"Fuck it!" he said out loud, as he forcibly pushed the thoughts from his mind. What happened last night was a dream come true and he wasn't about to let this line of thought take that away from him. Not now, anyway. He grabbed the glass of juice and walked briskly to the living room.
He almost missed them. Cindy and Bobby were laying on the deep pile carpet, almost completely hidden by the large, formal couch. Only the tips of Cindy's feet protruded and that's what had caught his eye. He knelt quietly on the couch. His youngest sister lay naked between his brother's legs, her head on his thigh; her lips less than an inch from his flaccid cock. There were dried cum stains on her cheeks. Peter noted in passing that all the Brady men seem to carry substantial sexual equipment. However, he was more interested in his sister's body.
Cindy, physically, was the girl in the middle; shorter than Marcia, taller than Jan. Although flattened against her chest, her tits were perfectly round, larger than Marcia's, but smaller than Jan's. She and Jan shared one trait: large areolas and extended nipples. He wondered if Marcia followed suit. His eye was drawn to the vee at the base of her stomach. One leg was cocked to the side, giving him an excellent view of her cunt-mound. Leaning over the couch he gently brushed the hair surrounding her pussy. It was thick, like Jan's, but finer, less coarse. Lightly, he fingered an individual strand causing Cindy moved ever so slightly in her sleep.
Peter licked his lips. Cindy's lush, young body was turning him on. Heat was flowing to his cock, making it push hard against the rear of the couch. Wondering how close he could get to it without waking her up, he shed his pants and went behind the couch, his erection standing stiff and proud. Cindy's foot was cocked inward blocking his way.
Cautiously, He moved it aside clearing the way. Now Cindy's young pussy stared back at him, the lips slightly ajar, a tinge of pink, succulent meat clearly visible. He blew softly into the tangle of pubic hair. She stirred and her legs opened wider. Her thighs were firm and tan, a bikini line very evident. The tip of his tongue explored the leading edge of her hairy defense. It tasted tangy. Her cunt scent was now strong in his nostrils. He let his tongue snake through the hairy labyrinth, finding its own path.
Gently, ever so gently; careful that his face didn't touch her open thighs, he probed her thick cuntal lips. He was surprised when he saw them open of their own volition, her hooded clitoris winking seductively at him. His control was at the ragged edge. He wanted to ram his tongue into this juicy cunt, suck on that pleasure button, and feel her hot cum juices splash his face.
"Oh, Peter," Cindy moaned quietly, "You really know how to wake a girl up."
His head shot up at the sound of her voice. Her eyes were slitted; her smile, seductive and knowing. "Eat me, big brother!" she ordered, "Suck my pussy and make me cum. I want you, Pete! I really want you!"
With a strangled groan he pushed her legs apart and stabbed her cunt with his hard tongue, sinking deep into the hot pussy channel. She bit one hand to hold back a sudden moan, the other hand jammed his face into her squisky, hot box. Peter's hands reached for her full tits. He raised his eyes and saw the tip of her tongue flicking wetly over Bobby's circumcised cockhead; her lips pursed to suck his shaft into her waiting mouth. Suddenly he wanted to see her do it!
"Go for it!" he said, "Suck his cock! Let me see you take it all the way down your throat." he choked, not recognizing his own voice. Slowly, his brother's cock disappeared into Cindy's willing mouth.
"Hey, man, stick your finger up her ass," a now wide awake Bobby Brady said, "She loves it, and she'll cum like a race horse."
With a smile in her eyes, Cindy raised her legs, giving Peter easy access to her pink shitter. He slid his index finger in and out of her butterslick cunt, lubricating it, then slowly slid it past the tight ring of her oval asshole. The muscles contracted, then relaxed, and his finger slid in the rest of the way with ease; into the depths of her bowel.
Her climax was shattering!
***
Marcia watched as Jan, standing naked in front of the mirror, ran a comb through her long blonde hair. "Aren't you going to put something on?" she asked.
"What do I have to hide? You should take off that silly robe and face the world a-la-natural!" Marcia hesitated, then looked at Greg for an answer.
"Don't ask me," he said, "I'm prejudiced; naked women always look better than naked men."
"Is that why you're wearing shorts?"
"Like I said . . ."
"Yeah, I heard. Oh, hell, why not? I want to see the look on Peter's face anyway." Marcia said. Jan laughed and replied, "Is that really the part you want to see?" They all laughed, and left the bedroom surprising comfortable in their new relationship, and eager to expand it.
They heard the others before they saw them. Cindy's voice was loud, almost shrill, but there were no words, only noises. Hurrying into the living room, the reason for their sister's squealing became obvious. She was on her hands and knees and Peter was slowly, relentlessly, stuffing his heavy dick up her asshole! Her face was contorted and flushed with excitement, and her mouth was full of Bobby's, prick! Lustfully engrossed they were unaware of the others.
Marcia and Jan stopped so short that Greg ran into them. Gasping, their eyes opened wide in wonder. And all three felt the heat return to their loins.
"Oh, my God," Marcia said in a strangled voice, "he's fucking her in the ass!" As Greg's arms encircled her, his dick rubbed against her ass-cheeks, and a vicarious thrill run up her spine.
