Roberta Taylor
Nasty Sharon

CHAPTER ONE

Sharon sighed with pleasure, tingling sensations racing through her cunt, as her brother soaped her breasts.

She lay in a tub of warm water under a blanket of bubbles like whipped cream. Using washcloth and soap, Buddy had opened two holes in the white blanket, baring her rosy tits.

He slowly laved the floating sphere of her left breast. It kept bobbing away from his touch, but his caresses caused the nipple to harden.

Deep inside, Sharon felt a vaginal fluttering that made her want to arch her back and raise her seething split to his touch. But she restrained the urge.

Buddy whispered, "Sis, your boobs float."

She almost giggled. Was he just learning, at age eighteen, that tits floated? Well, he had only this week arrived home from military school, where the boys saw females only in girlie magazines. Still, at his age Sharon had known anatomy by sight, feel, taste, smell. Sharon was twenty now, and she viewed Buddy as a child, but an unusual child.

He knelt on the bathmat, leaning over her. He was baby-faced, with brush-cut blond hair. She wished his hair could grow out to yellow curls of hippie length. He would look adorable. But his summer vacation would be too short, and in the fall the military school would again shear his golden locks.

A hint of pale-colored hair on his chin served for beard. He looked so young that Sharon almost regretted having conned him into bathing her.

She was holding her hands out of the water. A strip bandage crossed each palm, supposedly hiding the bums from a hot kettle. A lie, but a white lie. He had to lose his cherry sometime.

Below the chin fuzz he seemed adult. His nude torso was husky, and the chopped-off jeans he wore as shorts contained a cock Sharon would not believe real if she had not yesterday seen him jerking off. She had watched him pull a prick worthy of a pony, a shiny pink curved rod that in her inflamed vision had seemed larger than her own forearm and fist.

He was fingering her nipples, bending them to test their resilience.

He choked, "Sis, they're really big! I've seen how they stick out in a bathing suit, but I never figured they were so long. Are other girls' knobs like this?"

"Buddy, haven't you ever seen a girl's breasts?"

"Well, sometimes a chick wearing a halter leans toward me and I catch a look. But usually they have little buds, or just pink puckered spots."

"Stroke them, Buddy."

His fingertips drew circles on the aureoles and Sharon squirmed. A ribbon of heat was writhing in her belly. She glanced over the rim of the tub at his crotch. The denim fabric was stretched by the force of his erection. His cock was a salami, an began that would make any woman drool at mouth and twat. Sharon got up to see it better. A lock of chestnut hair tumbled down over one eye, a dull color compared to the flames that now seethed within her.

She gasped, "Buddy, wash my legs now."

She toed up the slippery sides of the tub, sliding her heels out on opposite rims. Her long, tapered legs gleamed golden under the dripping suds. Her snatch surfaced.

Buddy stared at the pussy hair waving like seaweed in the suds and began scrubbing her left leg.

He whispered, "Sis, you sure have a pretty body."

"I'm gad you've noticed. I've been around a long time though. Why haven't you mentioned it before?"

"But you're my sister!"

"Half-sister, Buddy. It makes a difference. Besides, Father is away so much it's like we haven't got one. And your mother and I are not really friends."

Blushing deeply, he turned to scrubbing her calf and ankle. To tease him, Sharon arched her back, raising her twat out of the water. The wetted hair flattened and clung to the contours of her plump mound and split crotch.

Buddy paused in washing her leg. He stared at her soapy loins. She saw his Adam's apple bob. Sweat broke out on his upper lip.

She spread her legs wider, kneeing the sides of the tub, then braced her heels to lift her entire split out of the suds.

She asked huskily, "Don't you want to wash my pussy, Buddy?"

His face flamed. "Sis! You mean, wash your…"

"Cunt."

He gulped, but moved the washcloth from her calf up to her thigh. His head shook as he squished the cloth over her hairy pubic mound and then between her legs. The washcloth got lost. Sharon, impatient, helped him by reaching down and fingering her mound, drawing it back, opening the hairy lips of her twat. Buddy touched her gash. His finger moved as lightly as a goldfish gulping at the yawning split, roaming the folds of flesh, stroking the swollen clitoral bud, finally finding her hole.

Groaning with pleasure, Sharon looked over the rim of the tub at his pants. The big sausage stretching the leg shimmered in her vision.

She asked, "Don't your shorts bind you, Buddy? Doesn't it hurt to have your cock cramped up like that?"

He nodded vigorously.

"Let me unzip your pants, Buddy."

She pinched the zipper tab and, with some difficulty, drew it halfway down. Drumhead-tight material stopped her. She yanked the waist snap and the shorts opened like a splitting melon. A blond ruff of pubic hair bushed out. She grasped the bent-down root of his cock, digging the whole prong out of the pants leg. Her breath wooshed out in surprise.

She hadn't realized how large it was – an oversized cucumber, the handle of a ball bat, a war club. The feel was like clutching an iron bar embedded in concrete – pink, taut and shiny. Swollen blue veins marked the sides of the up curving shank. But this magnificent stem was slender compared to the bulging pink knob. Would her hand cover it? Oh, the plush-soft surface! She finger nailed the split open and saw glistening flesh inside, like a tiny cunt. A drop of cream drooled out. She smeared it on the glans.

She gasped, "Buddy, it's a giant! It's the most beautiful tool I've ever seen!"

"Is it?" he asked weakly.

"Your balls, let me see your balls."

She turned to him, using both hands to tear down his pants. His testicles seemed to hang halfway to his knees, as big as peaches, in a pink scrotum. She squeezed the swollen nuts. Clinging to his stem with the other hand, she stared at the cockhead, spread out like a cobra's hood. She turned in the tub and bent to within inches of the glans.

"Buddy, I want to suck it!"

He protested, "Sis, it's not right! You're my sister!"

"Do you want me to?"

"It's not right."

"What's right is what feels good, Buddy. That's my philosophy." Elbows on the tub edge, she extended her tongue and licked the split in the end.

Buddy gave a moan that shook his body.

She tasted the white juice, then tongued around the flaring rim of the head. The flesh was so soft, yet the shank in her fist backed it with iron.

"Ahhh! Sis!" he cried.

Fisting it in both hands, she kissed the point, then forced her wet lips open on the curved shape. She licked the tip, fluttering her tongue, as she pushed onward, stretching her jaws to consume the giant knob. It was like trying to swallow an apple. From the plump tip it tapered out in all directions, except for the flatness of the glans underneath. She nibbled up those long slopes. Stretching her jaws once more, she pushed her teeth over the flare, shoving until her mouth was full, and then began a voluptuous sucking of the velvet-clad bone.

Buddy gasped, "Sis, what a blow job!"

She drew back, baring saliva-wetted pink cock, back to the head, then pushed forward, eating it in, seeing the thick trunk extended before her vision to its rooting in the huge, blond, pubic ruff.

It was a cock that would drive women ape-shit. They would pay for it, would ruin themselves for it.

Sharon was thinking of her female superiors at the Sunland Motel.

Indeed, she had a reason for seducing Buddy far beyond her own immediate pleasure. Yesterday when she saw him jerking off this massive tool, she had thought of her boss, Nancy Forbes.

Nancy would come from just looking at this cock.

If Sharon could control Buddy, his tool would serve as a lever to pry Nancy out of her cushy job as night manager of the motel. Sharon would take her place.

But what counted was now, gulping at this enormous organ, drawing back again, teeth at the rim, forcing it out with her tongue, yet clinging with loving lips to the velvety fat arrowhead, her mouth closing toward the tip until her lips formed a pecking little kiss sucking on the split.

Moaning with pleasure, she slid the saliva-wet prick along her cheek and pressed against it.

She whispered, "Buddy, have you ever fucked a girl?"

"No."

"You're going to now," she said.

Sharon stepped out of the tub into the towel Buddy held. He began drying her. She could no longer wait, but seized his cock and led him toward her bedroom.

There was no need for caution. They were alone in the house. Buddy's mother, Myra – Sharon's stepmother – managed a dress shop downtown. She was not due home for hours. As for their father, he was hundreds of miles away doing one of two things – either selling jewelry or fucking some chick.

Sharon thought she had inherited her horniness from her did man, along with her red hair and her long legs. She was as tall as Buddy.

In her room she threw herself down on the bed, spreading her legs wide.

Buddy was struggling out of his tight shorts. He said, "Sis, it don't seem right, you and me…"

"It'll feel right, Buddy." Looking down her body, she saw that her white breasts stuck up like a pair of melons, sloping only a bit to the sides, tipped by red cones that in her inflamed vision seemed to pulse like neon lights.

Buddy climbed on the bed, staring at her crotch.

Her twat hair was fairly dry now, an auburn bush filling the gap between her legs, the fringes curling in russet tangles against her golden thighs.

He choked, "You sure have a hairy snatch, Sis."

"Do you dig bushy twat hair?"

He nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat. Sharon slid her hand down her body and fingered her pussylips open.

He said, "Gee, Sis, your gash is so long and slick-looking, all pink…"

He moved into the fork of her thighs. Sharon's hand formed a cup, waiting for his cockhead. It nudged her palm. She turned it downward. She swabbed the velvet head on her clit. Fire shot through her belly. Groaning, she slid the huge arrowhead down her split to her hole.

"Buddy, shove in!" she choked.

He gave her a despairing look, knowing he shouldn't do this.

But a primitive male urge made his hips jerk. His cockhead jabbed into the wet portals of her hole.

She cried out in pain. It felt like a plush-padded fist rammed into her cunt.

Buddy's hands clamped on her shoulders, holding her down as he wedged the knob into her.

"Buddy, it's too big!"

She felt full, her belly stretched to bursting by the immense prick. Yet between her red pussy bush and his blond ruff she could see most of the long, curved cockstem still outside her. His hips jerked as the stem shortened. Sharon seized her knees and drew them back to straighten her twat.

"Slowly!" she cried.

He eased in. At last their crotch hair merged. The enormous prong was inside her.

She reached out to the sides of the mattress and hooked her fingers into the edges. She clung to reality in this fashion. Her cunt was filled from crotch to navel by throbbing hot iron. She could not take it. She squirmed, feeling their organs shift, the walls of her cunt stretching. She had always been a tight fit, but very juicy. Harve, at the motel, called her an easy, slippery fuck. But this enormous, meaty rod made her feel like a virgin just broken into.

Ruddy groaned, "It's so hot, Sis! Your cunt is just steamy!"

Fortunately he lingered, unmoving, savoring the squishy depths of her hot belly. This gave her time to adjust. When he at last jogged through a few short jerks, she was more relaxed and the feel of being burst open was replaced by a hot swarming of juices, then an excited inner pulsing on the moving meat.

She whispered, "Fuck me very slowly, in and out. Okay?"

She watched the dripping length slide out of her cunthair, a long curve, all outside now except the head. It returned, wedging smoothly in, driving to the depths of her belly.

As it struck bottom, Sharon's snatch grabbed the thick meat. He backed out again. Her cunt sucked loudly at the departing prick.

She was panting. Her chest heaved, tits rocking on their now uncertain foundation. Flames rolled from her belly to her eyes, and her face burned with the flush of orgasm. It spread down her throat to her tits, pinking them.

She moaned, "Buddy, I'm coming already."

"Sis, my nuts feel heavy, like a pair of baseballs. Can I shoot off?"

"Yes! Oh, yes! Fuck me, Buddy!"

"Can I fuck hard?"

"Yes! Fuck me as hard as you want!" She dug her heels into his spine and arched up to meet each thrust. Her cunt now rolled on his prick, sucking at it, clamping tight when he departed. He had stretched her, and she was joyously taking all he could deliver, each squishy slide in, each butting in the area of her navel. She heard the juicy swat of their groins, and now the slap of his scrotum into the spread of her wet ass, the slap driving a current of ecstasy up her ass. She was coming all over, like a volcano slowly spewing endless gobs of white heat that swirled to her fingertips, to her stiffened, spreading toes.

She clawed down his back to where her legs were crossed, stretched beyond digging her fingers into the hard orbs of his buttocks. She tugged him in closer, yes, deeper, getting more and more of the plunging cock. In that ecstatic moment, his prick was everything she had ever, dreamed of. It was like her fantasy of being laid by the big boss, the owner of the million-dollar Sunland Motel, Bud Connoly. It was busting Nancy Forbes out of her job as night manager, then moving into her place at two-hundred-plus per week. It was walking boldly into the Beachwear Boutique at the motel and buying that horribly expensive blue sunsuit, that tit-lifting, ass-hugging little silk-and-nylon delight. Above all, this was as good as owning that white convertible at Harris Motors, a little bomb you entered like toeing into a shoe.

Buddy croaked, "Sis, I'm coming! Coming!"

Her ass thrashed, rotating her cunt on his horse-sized cock. She became a fiery pinwheel spinning on that oiled axis. She grunted through belly surges of white heat, pulling pink taffy inside her until it stretched apart.

She felt a power she had never known. Nothing could stop her now. She was churning her cunt on the most brutal prick in Sunland. After this, everything would be easy – seducing Bud Connoly, getting Nancy's job, then the little white convertible.

Buddy's cock stiffened as he began the long run. He howled, surprised by the explosion of cream splashing out of his organ into the suction of his sister's boiling cunt. It squirted into her. It struck like hail, like molten lead. Sharon arched up and remained quivering against him, her cunt drinking the spew of his prick.

When he at last moaned and fell on her, Sharon was far out of this world, a pool of melted jelly dreaming of his next erection.