Path: not-for-mail
From: Incestor <familyincestfamilyincest@yahoo.com>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.incest,alt.sex.incest,alt.sex.stories,alt.stories.incest
Subject: story: "Successful Encyclopedia Salesman"
Date: Mon, 20 Jun 2005 12:26:59 -0700
Organization: http://groups.google.com
Lines: 425
Message-ID: <1119295619.576478.182670@o13g2000cwo.googlegroups.com>
NNTP-Posting-Host: 194.158.202.162
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1"
X-Trace: posting.google.com 1119295625 22320 127.0.0.1 (20 Jun 2005 19:27:05 GMT)
X-Complaints-To: groups-abuse@google.com
NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 20 Jun 2005 19:27:05 +0000 (UTC)
User-Agent: G2/0.2
Complaints-To: groups-abuse@google.com
Injection-Info: o13g2000cwo.googlegroups.com; posting-host=194.158.202.162; posting-account=iMbkYAwAAABEzvBc57qWV1UoWr6vHxuA
===================
http://www.incesttabooo.com/family.html
Successful Encyclopedia Salesman
My sister and I are dressed in skirts and small, rather thin
sweaters,
with no bras or underwear, of course... Chris has just combed my hair,
and
I go down to open the door for our friends, but I'm wrong: it isn't
them.
It's a rather large man at the door.
"Good afternoon," the man says. "I am selling collections of
books,
bound in real leather, and I would like to suggest that you take a look
at
some of them."
"Thank you, but my parents are not here now, and personally, this
does
not interest me."
"I wouldn't disturb you long." (He takes a book bound in green
leather
from his black suitcase and holds it in his left hand.) "Look, this is
a
book on the first world war, very complete and very beautiful, a
wonderful
choice for any library."
"Yes, but... Really this doesn't interest me. You would be
wasting
your time."
"Hey guys, are you coming up?" my sister calls from the top of the
stairs.
"It's a man," I tell her.
With these words of my sister, the man raises his head, and I see
what
he sees: my sister, at the top of the stairs. From where we were, we
could
see perfectly, under her dress, the beginnings of the black hair of her
vagina.
"So really, um, none of this would interest you?" the man asks,
somewhat troubled, it seems to me.
"Why is he here?" my sister calls.
"He's selling books on the first world war."
"Oh, but I do not have only books on the war," he says.
"What else then?" my sister asks, arriving downstairs, now staring
at
the man.
"Well, actually, I have all sorts of books. If I may come in and
put
down my suitcase, I can show you all that I have."
"OK, show them to us," Chris said. "But I warn you: we don't have
any
money. It's just for curiosity."
"That doesn't make any difference," the man said. "You might buy
them
another time, or speak with your parents, who are not home now?"
"That's right. They're not home."
The man comes in, and we lead him to the living room. He puts his
suitcase on the table and takes out several books.
"See, this one has nothing to do with the war."
We come closer, on either side of him. He is really very big. At
least 6' 3", and over 200 pounds.
The title of his book is "The Brothers Karamazov." The binding
and
paper are really quite beautiful. My sister is delighted by the books
the
man takes from his suitcase. After the Dostoyevski, there are Victor
Hugo
and other classical novelists.
With each book, Chris says "Oh yes, they are beautiful. That is a
very
beautiful book. What others do you have?"
"That's all I have here," the man says.
"But no, there are still two books in the bottom of your
suitcase," my
sister says.
"Unfortunately, I would guess that you are less than 18 years old,
and
those books are forbidden to minors."
"Oh! Show them to us... Just a little glance. Don't you want to
see
them, Steph?"
"Yes, show them to us," I said.
"They are erotic Phoenician and Japanese etchings," the salesman
says.
"Rather 'crude,' you know..." Then he seems to decide, suddenly.
"Well,
after all, it's only natural."
"Exactly," Chris says.
The man gives one book to Chris and the other to me. I get the
Japanese etchings. I learn a lot in the first pages. One etching on
each
page (this was a rather large format book), and each represents one or
several men with one or several women, doing everything that can be
done. I
glance at Chris's book. It's the same sort of thing.
"Well, you see," says the man, "these are not for you. I will put
them
away."
"No, no," says my sister. "Let me see all of them..."
"These interest you?" says the man.
"Heh, heh. Not bad," we say, almost at the same time.
"Well, then. Look at them. But hurry up, just the same."
We are leaning forward, standing up, to the right and left of the
man,
our elbows on the table, looking at the books. This begins to affect
me,
somehow...
Then he puts his hands on our buttocks, on top of our skirts...
I look at Chris. She says nothing. Neither do I.
The man caresses our buttocks over our skirts. He gently massages
each
part of our round behinds with his large hands. This is rather nice.
My
sister and I, showing no emotion, continue to turn the pages of the
books.
The man is getting excited, I'm sure. He puts his hands very
gently
under our skirts. He already knows that my sister has no underwear,
but he
must be happily surprised that I wear none either. Now he rubs the
skin of
our buttocks, and soon, one of his fingers touches and caresses our
anuses
(well, that's what he does to me, but I think he does exactly the same
with
my sister, with his other hand.) This becomes nicer and nicer. We do
not
raise our eyes, and we say nothing. Neither does the man.
His finger becomes more and more insistant in trying to enter my
anus.
Then his fingers slip lower, between our thighs, toward our vaginas,
and he
withdraws his fingers, very wet. This time he will bury his finger in
my
anus with no problem...
It must be his middle finger, because it seems rather long to me.
He
burys this finger as far as possible and starts to move it inside.
This
affects me marvelously... Sometimes Chris does this to me, but her
fingers
are smaller, and the effect is smaller.
The man is always moving his finger, and even bending it closed,
sometimes, inside of me. I'm having a hard time not saying anything,
but I
can't help pushing my buttocks backwards and sort of rotating my
behind. I
become aware that my sister is doing the same thing. There is no
longer any
question of turning the pages of our books. Our arms are on the table,
with
our heads down between our arms. Each of the man's hands are doing
marvelous work.
Chris and I have the same idea at the same time: we move our arms
on
the man's side, leaving our heads on our other arms, to the man's fly,
which
is standing up, rather straight.
Chris and I - our fingers sort of argued over this pleasure - are
undoing the buttons of his fly, and I am the first to touch his penis.
I
take it out of his pants. I am very excited. The finger in my anus
is
leading me to an orgasm, and I have never come this way, and I am
holding a
penis in my hand, which I look at, turning my head: it is a beautiful
thing,
rather long, standing out clearly, and I start to caress it, gently. I
discover how nice it is to stroke a man this way. His penis is very
warm
and satiny in my hand; his skin is like fine velvet, and the motion of
my
hand to and fro is intoxicating to me; and then, this finger in my
anus...
Chris is not inactive: she takes out his testicles and holds them
delicately in her hand; sometimes her hand joins mine, and we caress
the man
together, who says nothing. I find this silence extraordinary. It is
the
silence of the deaf, full of so many things, so many thoughts, so much
concentration on one end: climax.
The man is going to make me come, and I am shaking now. Chris is
going
to come too. This is a revelation for us. Oh how wonderful. As I am
coming, I caress the man very, very quickly, instinctively, but he does
not
want to climax now, because he says the first word in ten minutes.
"Gently."
Chris and I slow the rhythm of our caresses.
The man takes his fingers out of us and moves between us. We take
our
hands away from his penis. He sort of moves us a bit closer to each
other
and says "Stay in this position. Don't move at all. Stay close to
each
other."
We put our arms back on the table, with our heads on our arms
again,
and our buttocks protruding well behind. I don't know what the man is
going
to do, but I feel ready for anything. Having come so recently only
makes me
more excited. My sister, is in the same state, I'm sure.
The man puts our skirts up on our backs and discovers two
magnificent
pairs of buttocks.
"Spread your legs apart a little bit," he says.
We do this.
"Push your behinds back a little bit. There. Like that. Yes."
His hands caress our derrieres: that is sweet, that is nice. Oh
yes.
And then he puts his finger in my anus again. Which is fine,
really
fine. I never would have guessed. Chris shouts a small "Ouch!"
"Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you.
I turn my head a little bit, and I became aware that it isn't a
finger
that the man is bringing back to my sister's anus, but his penis. He
is
going very gently, wetting his penis with lots of saliva. Chris says
nothing more. I stop looking, and at a certain moment, the man says
"Voila. I am completely inside you."
I look at Chris's face. She does not seem to be in any pain. In
fact,
she looks transported, and a phrase comes to mind, "in the ass!" Chris
is
taking a man in the ass. We had spoken sometimes about this and we
wondered
what it would be like. Well. Now Chris knows. But how about me? I
hope
he does the same with me. I would like to say "Will you do this with
me,
too?"
Chris's body moves against mine: the man moves inside her. He
does not
forget me: his finger moves wonderfully in my behind.
"Oh, little sister. This is wonderful," Chris says suddenly.
"Yes.
Go ahead . Keep going. I'm going to come faster than I ever have. Go
ahead. Don't be afraid. It doesn't hurt."
"Do you like it this way?" asks the man, whose voice had changed,
I
noticed.
"Oh! Yes, yes."
"You two sleep together, eh? Two very sexy young women. And what
do
you say to a man, eh? Is it nice to have a man this way?"
The words the man uses are exciting me. And I see Chris more and
more
"detached."
"Ooh! Yes. Go ahead! I'm coming! Yes, yes, yes, wow! Oh, your
cock
in my ass! Oh! I'm exploding. Go, go... quickly, quickly,
quickly...
Aaaah..."
Chris comes as I've seldom seen her come: her nails scratch the
table,
she moves like a madwoman and finally crushes herself on the edge of
the
table, breathless, exhausted and satisfied. And I still have the
man's
finger in my anus. I turn around. I hope he hasn't come. I don't
believe
so: he takes his penis out of Chris, and it is still straight and long.
"And now it's your turn, cherie. And you, turn around the way you
were. After this, I'll be able to put two fingers in this little hole
of
your behind."
Chris obeys. And I see the man's index and middle fingers go into
Chris's behind without difficulty. She has a little smile of
satisfaction.
She looks like she really enjoys this. The man withdraws his fingers.
"You will see that you will love this as much as your sister,
cherie."
I hide my head again in my arms, and this time I know it's Chris
who is
watching. The man wets his fingers in my vagina and moistens my anus
well.
Soon I feel his penis beginning to push and rub a passage into me. The
pushing intensifies, and I feel his penis sliding within me. I feel
the
entry, fraction by fraction, in every fiber of my body. I had a little
pain
at the beginning, but now I no longer feel any pain, just an infinite
gentleness invading my entrails.
He enters me more and more, and the more this happens, the more I
feel
a certain sweetness and fire at the same time. So that's how it is.
How
marvelous. I would like to feel this way always. Suddenly I seem to
understand gay men. If this is what they feel, they are right.
The man's belly is plastered against my buttocks now, and I know
that
all of his sex is inside me. I feel fine, deliciously fine. I know
also
that he must be expertly caressing Chris's behind with his two fingers,
and
I'm sure that she feels fine, too.
"Because you waited, I will give you something more than your
sister."
The man's free hand passes in front of me, and voila, he starts to
caress my clitoris.
"I want to make you come twice, cherie. Once caressing you,
without
moving within you, but deeply buried in your lovely behind, as I am
now, and
a second time as it should be done, that is to say, moving within you,
as I
did with your sister. Meanwhile your sister, whose derriere was so
welcoming, can caress herself while I have my fingers inside her."
Chris doesn't know what to say this time, and I see her arm
slipping
between her thighs.
"Do you like my cock in your ass?"
"Yes..." I said. "Oh, yes."
The man crushes up still more strongly against me. I have my
belly
against the edge of the table. His hand starts to caress me then,
while he
is literally planted inside me like a stake. Oh, how well he caresses
me.
This man is marvelous. His fingers go from the inside of my vagina to
my
clitoris, which he squeezes, sometimes, very lightly between two
fingers (my
clitoris is rather large), and caresses like a man's penis. With this
marvelous rubbing, I leave the earth again.
"Good?" Chris asks.
"Oh, yes!"
The man's fingers move faster and faster as he explores my vagina
and
rubs my clitoris very very quickly. When he senses that I'm about to
come,
he caresses only my clitoris, with his middle finger, and seems to
withdraw
from me a little, pushing his abdomen less against my buttocks, and at
the
exact moment when I come, he buries his penis in me again, with a
terrible
thrust of his pelvis, deeper than he had been before now, and a
veritable
tornado shakes my body.
"Catch your breath, little one. Now you are going to see what it
is
really like to have me inside you! But before that, I'd like to know
if
your sister just came."
"Not yet," Chris said.
"Well. Let's turn our attention to her for a moment, then."
And all the while staying inside me, he replaces Chris's hand
between
her thighs with the hand he caressed me with, while moving her sort of
diagonally against me. He still has two of his fingers in my sister's
anus,
and he begins to caress her in front, as he did with me, all the while
moving his fingers in her anus. My sister throws her head back. The
man is
making her come by rubbing her clitoris in a very jerky way, very fast.
"Oooohh..."
"Delicious, no?" the mans says to my sister.
Chris comes, in a long and intense climax that leaves her body
sort of
jerking, well after the man moves her back to the first position,
perhaps
because he seems to be keeping his fingers in her behind.
"Now it's your turn," he says to me.
I was waiting with impatience. While he was caressing my sister,
I was
feeling his penis swell up inside of me, and I was moving a little bit
for
the pleasure of feeling it move.
His free hand squeezes my body and he starts to move inside of me,
at
first slowly. Each time his sex almost leaves me, but then he puts it
back
in slowly, all the way to the end. With each movement, a marvelous
warmth
that I have never known before, grows in my body. I burn with an
intense
pleasure, now beginning inside me. Ah, this man with his penis in me.
Very
nice. He comes back in. He leaves. He comes back in. He leaves. He
goes
faster now, and his arm squeezes me more strongly to crush my body
against
him. I am on fire. My climax is coming from very far away, and I feel
it
coming gently, sweetly, growing, becoming measureless. The man now
moves at
a crazy speed within me. My orgasm arrives. Oh! It is There. I am
going
to scream... He goes so quickly inside me - in my ass. I am going to
scream. I scream. I bite my arm. I want to move my buttocks wildly,
but
his arm prevents that, and I scream louder still when he gives me two
last
enormous thrusts and I feel his penis piercing right through me, and I
feel
his marvelous orgasm, along with mine.
He stays there a few moments, without moving. I feel his rapid
breathing against my neck, and finally, he withdraws gently. I no
longer
have the strength to say a word, and I am going to silently fall into
an
armchair, my body still moving with little spasms after the climax.
Chris
does the same in another chair. What an experience. It's not
possible.
It's not imaginable.
When I look at the man again, he is buttoning his fly.
"So. That was good?"
Smiles from both of us.
Now the man seems a little more distant. Formal, as he had been
when
he arrived. He looks a little bit ugly to me. We don't know what to
say.
And he does the most intelligent thing that he can: he puts away his
books
in his suitcase and heads for the door. But before leaving, he says:
"If your parents want some books..."
Then he leaves.
HUGE INCEST STORIES COLLECTION >
http://www.incesttabooo.com/family.html