"Incest teenagers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brown Frank)

CHAPTER TWO

Pancakes and pork sausages. Yuk! Willy Manners peered up at his mother and father across the breakfast table. They were safely tucked away behind their morning newspapers. Clouds of blue cigarette smoke indicated that they were heavily engrossed in the latest news gossip. Maybe if he was real quiet he could slip out the back door, dump his breakfast over the fence – the neighbor's dog loved pancakes and pork sausages – and slip back inside without either of his parents detecting the criminal act. He jammed his middle finger down the center of the stack of browned pancakes and he pumped it in and out a few times. Fuck breakfast, he thought.

"William," Mrs. Manners said from behind her newspaper, "I don't hear any chewing going on over there. Get busy and eat your breakfast. You'll be late for school."

"Yes, ma'am," Wily said. He slipped his middle finger out of the pancakes and flipped it at his mother, then popped a pork sausage into his mouth and chomped on it in imitation of the swallowing the sausage.

"That's better," his mother said.

"Yes, ma'am," Willy repeated, and this time he stuck out his tongue at her. Chewed-up bits of pork lay along his tongue like curls of tobacco on cigarette paper.

Well, that blew the breakfast-over-the-fence plan. Now he'd just have to swallow down the grease and paste and sugar. He picked up another brown sausage and studied it. It looked like a miniature prick, he thought. He was just about to pop the sausage into his mouth when he had a brilliant idea. Giving the raised newspapers before him a devilish grin, he plunged the prick-shaped sausage into the pancakes, right down the hole he'd made with his finger. There it was now, perched shamelessly on the breakfast table – a prick fucking a cunt!

Quickly he shoved four more sausages into the stack of pancakes. Man, he thought, look at those cocks go at that cunt. He doused the pricks and cunt with a cupful of Mrs. Butterworth's syrup. Now he had pussy juice bubbling out around the cocks. This was getting exciting. His prick, which had been standing straight up in the air ever since he'd crawled out of bed, now seemed to grow another inch. It poked out the waistband of his jockey briefs and throbbed against his flat belly. The hot purple head glowed above his navel.

"William," his father said, "I thought your mother told you to eat."

Willy almost hit the ceiling at the sound of his father's voice. "Just dribbling a little syrup on the pancakes, Dad."

Luckily his parents were such hounds for the latest town gossip that they rarely looked over the tops of their papers to check on him. In a way, breakfast was exciting. Willy got a thrill out of pulling off devilish actions like this in front of his parents. Christ, what would his father have thought had he looked over the top of his paper now? It was there plain as day – five horny cocks fucking a juicy cunt right there on his breakfast plate. And there he himself sat dressed in nothing but his undershorts, his prick standing halfway up his belly. He yanked a sausage out of the pancakes and sucked it into his mouth, again chomping on it loudly.

He could hear his parents taking blissful drags on their cancer sticks as they sighed with contentment. All was well with the world. A whole horde of new scandals had overtaken the news, and their angelic pubescent son was respectfully swallowing down his breakfast. As long as he kept chomping, he'd be safe.

He slipped off his undershorts. The kitchen air nibbled his nuts. His dick quivered. Man, this was too much! An orgy was going on on his breakfast plate, he didn't have any clothes on, and his parents were sitting right across the table. He popped another sausage into his mouth.

"Great breakfast, Mom," Willy said.

Mrs. Manners giggled. "Why, thank you, William."

There, that would take care of her. She'd forget about him now.

Willy wolfed down his fourth sausage. Dripping with pussy juice, it was pretty tasty. He hated breakfast, hated pancakes, hated sausages, but he loved sex and cunts and pricks, so he often changed breakfast into an orgy, enabling himself to get through it without too much nausea. However, what he was doing this morning was brand new. He'd never before tried jacking off at the breakfast table.

Two sausages remained in the stack of pancakes – two pricks. One prick was his own, and the other belonged to Ben Konig, his best buddy. The sausages were the same size, so Willy had to pretend that one was bigger than the other one. In real life, Ben's cock was a monster. Willy had seen a lot of cocks, but never one as big as Ben's. Shit, the six-foot-three, 210-pound captain of the high school football team didn't even have a cock as big as Ben's. Willy wished his own cock was as big as Ben's. Man, he'd just walk down the street then, wave his cock in the air, and all the chicks would come running. It was true that they didn't come running to Ben like that, but that was because Ben was so fucking shy, and – hard to believe – embarrassed by the size of his dick.

Man, Willy thought, if I was Ben, I'd do nothing but shove my pecker in and out of girls' pussies. And the one I'd fuck the most would be Janet's. Oh, Christ!

Willy beat his pecker hard now. Every time he thought of Janet Konig, Ben's older sister, he almost shot his jizz on the spot. Janet was the sexiest girl he'd ever seen in his life. In fact, she was probably the sexiest girl any guy in town had ever seen. She was a nymphomaniac – at least according to all the guys in school. She was supposed to have fucked at least three hundred of the three-hundred-fifty guys in the high school, including her three older brothers – Mike, Tim, and Brian. Some guys claimed she fucked her own dad, but Willy didn't believe that, because these same guys claimed she fucked the principal, and Willy couldn't believe that had happened – because the principal was his own father!

Willy glanced up at the newspaper behind which his father sat. Is it true, Dad? He wanted to ask. Is it true you fucked Janet? Naw, it couldn't be. He didn't think his balding, forty-five-year-old father could even get a hard-on anymore, let alone have the guts to stick it between the legs of a flaming nymphomaniac. Christ, if his father ever got his cock into Janet, his father would probably have a heart attack. Nymphos fucked so wildly that they nearly killed guys, nearly vacuumed the balls right up through guys' pricks – at least that's what he'd heard. He wished he could find out some of this stuff for sure, first-hand. But what was a teenaged shrimp supposed to do? He was so skinny that girls made fun of him. And even though his dick measured a respectable seven inches, and he could shoot his jizz five feet when he was really horny – which was most of the time – he still hadn't ever gotten his pecker into a pussy.

Willy stuffed the two remaining sausages into his mouth and started in on the dripping pancakes, clumsily forking in the food with his left hand, since his right hand was busy sliding the silky dick skin up and down his throbbing cockshaft. He never could beat-off left-handed. Cum bubbled from his gaping piss slit and rolled down over his knuckles. He chomped loudly at his food, pretending he was eating pussy now, and trying simultaneously to drown out the sound of his heavy breathing.

"That's what we like to hear, son – a guy enjoying his breakfast. Puts hair on your chest. Isn't that right, mother?"

"Absolutely," Mrs. Manners said. "And girls just love hair on a guy's chest. My! Listen to that hungry son of mine eat."

Willy got half to his feet, his dick above the edge of the table now, his hand pumping furiously. He was tempted to explode right against the twin newspapers, to blow the news out of his parents' hands with the force of his spurting cum alone, to fire his jism straight into their horrified faces, to say, look, you old fans, your guy has more balls than you think. Instead, he shot off against his plate, nearly blowing the pancake cunt off the table. He clenched his teeth and wrapped his toes around the metal legs of his chair, trying desperately to stifle his peed to squeal out his pleasure. As he spurted, he shook all over.

His cock felt so good he could hardly believe it. His orgasms were always that way – intense. Sometimes he thought he was going to faint from the pleasure, like right now. Christ, hold on, just a few more spurts, he thought.

He watched the milky liquid spurt from the piss slit of his bucking dick and drench the pancake cunt. It looked like sugar icing on a cake. It kept cumming, spurting out until there was as much cum on his plate as Mrs. Butterworth's golden syrup. Finally, his dick stopped spurting. Thank God!

He milked the last gobs from his pisshole and sank back into his chair. What in the hell had he done? Christ, he must have been nuts! What if his parents had put down their papers? When he was horny he just seemed to lose his head.

Willy slipped his underwear back on. Now what? Here he sat with three remaining pancakes swimming in cooling cum. Yuk!

"Good morning everybody!" Willy's sister said, skipping into the kitchen already dressed for school.

Down went the two newspapers.

"Good morning lazybones," Mr. Manners said.

"Well, it's about time you showed your face in here, Cheryl," Mrs. Manners said. "Another two seconds and I'd have been upstairs with a switch."

"Sure you would, Mom," Cheryl said throwing her arms around both her parents' shoulders as she stood between and behind them. Then she kissed each of them on the cheek.

Mrs. Manners beamed, and Mr. Manners flushed.

"Kisses will get you nowhere, young lady," Mrs. Manners said. "Sit down and eat your breakfast. You'll be late for school."

Cheryl seated herself next to Willy. "Morning brother."

"Up yours," Willy said.

"William!" Mr. and Mrs. Manners shouted simultaneously, then looked at each other in amazement.

"He talks like that all the time when you two aren't around," Cheryl said. "Worse, even." She smirked at Willy.

"William, I'm surprised at you," Mr. Manners said.

"Sorry, Dad. Can I get ready for school now? Ben will be waiting for me."

"No, William, you may not dress for school now – not until you've apologized to your sister and finished your breakfast."

"I apologize," he said, glaring at Cheryl.

"I accept," Cheryl said condescendingly. Then she eyed his plate of pancakes, syrup, and cum. "My, William, you really love syrup. What are you eating this morning – pancake soup?"

Willy wanted to slug her. It was as if she knew what he'd just done and she was trying to expose him. That was Cheryl's way, though, always picking on him.

All eyes were on his plate now. The cum had melted down and mixed with the syrup for the most part, but Willy could still make out enough jizz to convict him. What was worse, he could smell it. The whole kitchen smelled like cum. In a moment his three prosecutors would be sniffing the air like bloodhounds. What's that peculiar odor? They'd be asking. Then all eyes would fall on him, and they'd know.

"William," Mrs. Manners, said, "whatever possessed you to use all that syrup?" She clucked her tongue and shook her head. "Next time we have pancakes I shall dole out the syrup, young man. And, as for today, you shall eat every drop of what you've so wastefully dumped on your plate. Now eat."

Willy ate, first the pancakes, then the puddle of syrup and cum. The syrup was so sweet that he couldn't taste the cum, but just knowing it was in there made his stomach woozy. When he finished, he looked at Cheryl. She smirked at him as if she knew he'd just been forced to devour his own cum.