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This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached. The author may be contacted at 'MyStores at normdeploom dot com'

All the characters and events in this story are fictional; any resemblance to real people or events is entirely coincidental.

The Week That Changed My Life

Norm DePloom

Prologue-

This is the story of a young boy, his neighbor and his sister. The memories of that young boy's experiences live in me still, but I cannot tell this story from his perspective, I can only tell this story from the perspective of the man forty years his senior that I am today. The time of this story is 1962, the place is Southern California, the 'Greater Los Angeles Area', as it was known. For the sake of those involved I won't specify the location any more closely than that. This was a time before the Internet and the World Wide Web were even a computer geeks wet dream. No one had ever heard of a cell phone, or even a wireless phone. Computers were huge behemoths that messed up your water bill and insisted that you could not "fold, spindle or mutilate" any attempted communications with them. It was a time when most people still had only one television in their house, and it was usually black and white. UHF channels were the latest in TV technology and it took an engineering degree to keep an FM radio working properly. The only people I knew with cable TV in those days lived so far out in isolated communities that they had no other choice. These were people who pooled there resources and put an antenna up on the hill and ran twin lead cable to the houses below.

Who would ever imagine an irresistible beauty named Mable. Who would ever think that a woman named Mable would be anything other than a pudgy waitress who flirted with male patrons to get them to leave an extra nickel in the tip? Not that I was allowed to call her Mable. She always insisted that I address her as Mrs. Saunders, even when my young cock was pumping in and out of one of her orifices. More accurately, especially when I was pumping one of her holes with my twelve-year-old dick. In today's PC environment what we did would be called 'sexual child abuse' and Mable would be labeled a 'child molester', but it happened forty years ago. At the time I called it a 'fucking wet dream come true'. The passing years haven't changed my opinion. In today's world Mable would be hauled off to prison and I would have ended up seeing a therapist twice a week until they managed to convince me that I was a 'victim' and needed to 'recover'. Back then, if we'd been discovered, there would have been a bit of a scandal, Mr. and Mrs. Saunders would have had to move to a different neighborhood. Mr. Saunders might have divorced Mrs. Saunders. The cops, instead of calling me the 'victim', would probably have called me the 'lucky little bastard'. My parents would have been more upset than the rest of them, but that was there job. Being upset is what you sign on for when you procreate.

At the time I had no idea how old Mrs. Saunders was. Her youngest boy was in high school and participated in a lot of after school sports, well, so did his mother, just a different variety. She was a short, but extremely well proportioned woman, and I was a bit on the tall side for a twelve year old, almost as tall as Samantha, my sixteen year old sister, so there wasn't much difference in our heights. I remember the day they moved in next door to us, to quote an over-used cliché, like it was yesterday. Now if this was a movie we'd do a dissolve to a twelve-year-old version of me sitting on the front lawn watching the new neighbors carrying boxes out of a U-Haul trailer and into their house, with a zoom from his perspective to the new neighbor's wife, especially her breasts bouncing gently against the T-shirt that she had tied in a knot just below said breasts. What the movie could not relate would be the surge of adrenaline and lust that saturated the young boys body as he watched those magnificent mounds. As I remember it my little twelve-year-old cock stayed hard the whole day, twitching and threatening to stain my shorts with my first ejaculation every time she leaned over to check the contents of a packing box. I really did not care which direction she faced when she leaned over, either I got to see her breasts pushing against the front of her T-shirt, or her equally amazing butt straining the material of her shorts. If she happened to be facing away I also got the added thrill of seeing her panties outlined beneath the tightly stretched material of her shorts. I know that doesn't sound like much now, but to a twelve-year-old in 1962 it was a real thrill. After they moved in I spent as much time as I could watching our new neighbor, especially when Mrs. Saunders was in the backyard gardening. Our yards were separated by a redwood fence that must have been made of grade Z-minus lumber. The planks seemed to be more knothole than wood. They looked like they'd been cut from some mutant strain of redwood Swiss cheese.

My available time for spying on Mrs. Saunders as she crawled around on her hands and knees planting bulbs was cut drastically when school started and I had to begin attending my seventh grade classes. My days in class were spent day dreaming about Mrs. Saunders' butt and breasts and my non class time was spent hanging out in the backyard keeping watch on the neighbors yard, eager for any opportunity to gaze at her magnificent body. I probably could have upped my stock with the other boys (never overly high anyway) by inviting a few of them home to enjoy the view through the Swiss cheese fence, but I've never been very good about sharing my toys; besides I enjoyed the feeling that she was putting on a show just for me. Little did I know until later that my feeling was one hundred percent accurate. Mrs. Saunders later admitted that she had started showing off her body to me that very first day, just as soon as she noticed that I was watching her.

There was about an hour and a half between the time I got home and the time Mrs. Saunders' husband and son got home. As long as I was hanging out in the backyard and not running around getting into trouble, my mother was ecstatic. She stayed in the house and pretty much left me alone. Luckily most of the fence that separated our backyard from the Saunders backyard was not in the direct view of any of our windows, or the street. I was free to watch the object of my developing lust with my hand down the front of my shorts, secure in the knowledge that no one could see me. No one but Mrs. Saunders, of course, but up to that time I didn't think she was watching.

Monday-

I vividly remember the first time I ejaculated. I would come home every afternoon and head out into the backyard to 'play'. I'd quietly (I thought) position myself at the place along the fence that was the closest to where Mrs. Saunders was gardening, then slip my hand down the front of my pants and stroke my already hard cock while I watched her work in outfits that seemed to get skimpier every day. On this day she was wearing the sexiest, most revealing two-piece swim suite I'd ever seen. It was one of the new 'bikinis' that were all the rage with beach sluts, and women who wanted to seduce twelve-year-old boys. Every time she leaned over with her head in my direction I could almost, but not quite see her nipples and every time she bent over with her behind towards me I could just barely make out where her crotch skin began to darken. I was jerking so hard on my stiff little dick I'm surprised that I didn't rip it off. After torturing me for about twenty minutes with her gardening Mrs. Saunders moved over to her redwood chase lounge and, after stretching in a way that made me think that she must be part cat, reclined on the lounge. I quickly moved to my favorite 'lounge' knothole and continued to watch her. Mrs. Saunders had laid down half turned onto her left side, with her legs together and her knees bent. As I watched Mr. Saunders slowly lifted her right knee, spreading her legs until she was laying on her back with her thighs against the arm rests. As I stared and pulled harder than ever on my poor little hard cock, Mrs. Saunders reached down between her legs and, hooking her finger under the crotch, adjusted the swim suit bottoms for a more comfortable fit. In the process she, seemingly without realizing it, held the crotch of her suit to the side allowing me my first glimpse of a real, live, female pussy. My look only lasted for three or four seconds, but when she covered back up my hand was sticky with my first ejaculation, and I suddenly realized that I had moaned out loud. I quickly ducked down, then a few seconds later slowly raised my head to peak through the knothole again. She was still laying on the lounge, her legs still spread, a small half smile on her face and, as far as I could tell, not paying the least bit of attention to me. I breathed a sigh of relief and examined the sticky effluence coating my fingers and half soft cock. As soon as I looked through the knothole again she re-adjusted her bathing suit crotch giving me an even longer glimpse of her charms. Just as her husband's car pulled into the drive way, Mrs. Saunders stretched, re-adjusted her bathing suit crotch once again, this time actually holding the material aside with one finger while she casually rubbed another finger up and down her slit a couple of times, then got off the lounge and headed into the house. It was only when she was gone that I realized that she had been looking straight at the knothole I was peaking through during that entire last swim suit crotch adjustment. Even if nothing else had ever happened between Mrs. Saunders and I, that would have been enough to feed my masturbatory fantasies for years to come.

As soon as I realized that Mrs. Saunders had been looking at me during that last adjustment, I dashed around the house and went inside to my room. I spent the evening expecting a knock on the door and Mr. or Mrs. Saunders (or both) to report my perverted behavior to my parents. The fear of being reported to my parents did not stop me from masturbating to my second ejaculation that night as I laid in bed and thought about Mrs. Saunders' finger slowly running up and down the folds of her pussy.

Tuesday-

The fear of being caught did not stop me from heading for the fence as soon as I got home from school the next afternoon. I knelt down and peaked through the knothole, but I couldn't see anyone. For the first time since school started the Saunders' back yard appeared to be empty. Shit, I thought, she did see me.

"I like it when you watch me." Mrs. Saunders' deep sexy voice seemed to be coming from right next to me. I started to dash off even before I realized what she had said.

"Don't run off." She continued. I looked back through the knothole and saw her just off to the side, next to the fence.

"I really do like it when you look at me." This time her voice, and the words she spoke seemed to reach right inside me and twist my guts into a knot of excitement.

"I'd like looking at you too." My hard cock twitched when I heard that.

"I've taken the nails of the bottom of these two boards," the sexiest voice in the world informed me, "I'm going to lay down on the lounge. If you come over I'll let you look at it as close as you want." Suddenly she was staring me in the eye through the knothole, "I'll even let you touch it." My cock spewed its third dose of cum into my shorts without me even laying a hand on it.

With that she stood up, turned and walked, with, is seemed to me, a little extra wiggle in her hips, to the lounge. As I watched through the fence Mrs. Saunders pulled her swim suit bottoms down her long legs then, kicking them aside, reclined on the lounge. She bent her knees and spread her legs until the souls of her feet were touching each other and her thighs were resting on the arms of the lounge. There in front of me was a naked pussy just waiting for me to come over and touch it. Mrs. Saunders leaned forward and, reaching behind her back, unhooked the top of her bathing suit then let it slide down her arms. She dropped it onto the patio, and the object of my obsessions leaned back on the recliner totally naked and waiting for me. I remember tripping and sprawling across the patio in my mad dash through the fence, but Mrs. Saunders being, in my opinion, a true lady refrained from laughing at my adolescent clumsiness. I got up and, more embarrassed by the fall than by the situation, walked the last few feet to the lounge without taking my eyes off Mrs. Saunders' hairy crotch.

"Sit facing me with one leg on each side of the lounge," she instructed, "closer." I scooted up until I was almost setting on her feet. She took my hands in hers and brought them to her hard-nippled naked breasts.

"I'd like you to suck on my nipples for me." She said it with just the trace of a pout that made me feel like I'd be doing her a big favor if I did. Since I've never been one to disappoint a woman, especially when she has a hot, wet, naked cunt waiting for me, I leaned forward and began to suck, experimentally, on her right nipple.

"Ooh, yes, that feels so good." With one hand she held my head to her breast while she slipped her other hand down inside my shorts. I was startled when her soft fingers first touched my hard little boy dick. If I hadn't cum in my pants just a few minutes earlier I would have dumped a load on her fingers as soon as they made contact with me. God what an electric thrill went through me, I had never imagined that someone else touching my cock could feel so much better than me touching it myself. I never wanted her to stop; I couldn't imagine that anything could possibly feel better. Little did I know that Mrs. Saunders would soon be showing me things that felt a million times better than her fingers.

"Suck on my other nipple," she suggested, urging my mouth over to her other breast. "My little man has started ejaculating already," she whispered in my ear as her fingers continued working expertly on my dick, "pretty soon my little man is going to be pumping his cum into my cunt." My cock twitched in her hand in response to her dirty talk. I whimpered like a deprived puppy, without taking my mouth from her nipple, when she pulled her hand from my shorts.

Placing a hand on each of my cheeks, Mrs. Saunders gently pried my lips from her breast then, tilting my face up, brought her lips to mine and pushed her tongue into my mouth. Thrill after thrill cursed through my body, she took my hand in hers and guided my fingers down to her warm, wet, mysterious pussy. My whole body jerked when my fingers first touched her hot flesh.

"I know this is what you boys like," she continued in her husky, sexy voice as she guided my fingers into her, "a nice wet cunt." My body jerked again when I heard her say cunt. Cunt was the dirtiest word I knew, even dirtier than fuck, and I had never dreamed that I would hear a girl saying it.

"Do you want me to teach you how to make every woman you ever fuck become your sex slave, willing to do everything you ask her to do, no matter how nasty?" I sat on the lounge my eyes glued to Mrs. Saunders' pussy, my fingers reveling in the feel of hot wet cunt, nodding my head at everything the woman said to me. I didn't really understand what she meant but if she had said 'do you want to cut off your dick and feed it to the cat?' I would have given her the same silly grin while I nodded my head up and down like one of those idiotic dogs in the back window of a car.

"The cunt is nice," Mrs. Saunders continued stating what was, for me, too obvious to need repeating, "but if you want to turn every woman you fuck into a mass of quivering jelly, willing to do anything your perverted little mind wants you have to learn about the clitoris." As she spoke Mrs. Saunders slowly pulled my finger from her wet hole and moved them up to the top of her slit. "You feel that? You feel that hard little knot of flesh?" I nodded my head indicating that I did, even though I wasn't really sure I knew what she was talking about. "That is the clitoris, if you learn to touch that in just the right way, every woman will be yours." Mrs. Saunders worked my fingers over her clitoris showing me how to touch a woman.

"You go ahead and explore," she said as she lifted her legs then spread them further apart so her knees were hanging over the arms of the lounge. I laid down on my stomach with my face only a few inches from Mrs. Saunders' pussy and, using both hands, began to thoroughly explore the warm, wet, mysterious folds of flesh that were normally hidden between her legs and beneath her clothes. I gently pulled her open, pushed fingers into her and, after definitely identifying it, pulled and pushed and prodded at her hard little clitoris. Mrs. Saunders kept up a steady stream of advice and comments, telling me what felt best to her and when I was being too rough. I inhaled, and became intoxicated by her odor. I have no idea how long she let me play with her body in this way, I continued until she helped me to set up on the lounge.

"You have to go back home now," I must have had a totally blank look on my face, "my husbands coming home," I heard a car door closing in the driveway around in front of the house.

"Come back over tomorrow," she said then, once again holding my face with her hands on my cheeks, gave me a quick but still deep kiss, "now get back through the fence." I scurried through the fence, then turned for one last look of Mrs. Saunders pulling her swimsuit bottom back up her legs. She blew me a quick kiss then headed into the house, fastening her swimsuit top as she walked. I heard my mother calling and went around to the other side of the house and in the door that led through the laundry room and into the kitchen. To top off a most wonderful afternoon, my mother was fixing spaghetti, my favorite food, for dinner. My mother asked me to set the table, and I almost dropped the plates when I realized that my mother had a cunt between her legs just like Mrs. Saunders. I had known this on a theoretical basis, but now I really knew it. I'd seen pictures of naked women in the men's magazines that one of my friends had stolen from his father, but to really see, touch and smell the real thing was entirely different. Now I knew what to imagine, and I discovered I could imagine any woman on that lounge with her legs hanging over the arms and her cunt waiting for my exploring fingers. I tried it using my older sister and discovered an extra thrill in imagining the forbidden. I tried imagining my mother on the lounge saying the same things to me that Mrs. Saunders had said and discovered the more forbidden an imagined thing was, the greater the thrill imagining it. I spent the rest of that evening, and most of the next day at school, thinking about Mrs. Saunders' whispered promise that I would be allowed to cum inside her magical mysterious pussy. I'm going to fuck Mrs. Saunders. Those words played over and over all day in my mind, driving out any other thoughts and keeping my cock hard.

Wednesday-

I rushed home and changed into my shorts and T-shirt, then got waylaid by my mother who had a couple of chores I had to do for her. So with visions of Mrs. Saunders' naked pussy and hard nipples dancing in my head, I collected all the trash from all the trash cans and brown paper bags that were being used in lieu of trashcans. After taking the collected trash to the trash can outside the back door, I had to take the larger can to the curb. This was job I usually enjoyed, keeping the can balanced on its bottom edge while I rolled it down the driveway. I always liked to see how far I could roll it without it straightening up, or tipping over completely leaving me with a large mess to clean up. That's what happened on that particular afternoon. About half way down the driveway I lost control of the trashcan and it fell on its side and rolled the rest of the way down to the street, spewing trash all over the place.

"Oh fuck!" I blurted out, then looked around to make sure my mom wasn't in hearing range.

"Not unless you hurry up and get that mess cleaned up." I almost jumped out of my skin when I heard Mrs. Saunders deep sexy voice. When I looked up she was standing at the gate leading into her back yard. The corner of their garage blocked her from being seen from the street. She lifted the knotted T-shirt off her breasts then cupped them with her hands and played with her nipples while I stood watching. "Hurry up," she said, dropping her shirt back into place, "I'm waiting for you." Mrs. Saunders blew me a kiss then disappeared into her back yard closing the gate behind her. I felt like a hardon with a body attached to it as I quickly picked up the trash and stuffed it back into the can.

The gate that led into our backyard was on the opposite side of the house from the section of fence that separated our backyard from the Saunders' backyard. That, and the fact that the outside wall of our house that faced their back yard did not have windows, made the area private enough for me to spy on our neighbor without getting caught, except by her, of course. After picking up the trash I went through our gate instead of through the house hoping to avoid my mother and any more tasks she might have for me to perform. It never occurred to me that I could have gone into the Saunders' backyard through their gate. My ploy failed, mom happened to be looking out the patio door when I walked by.

"I need you to go to the store for me," she said as she slid the door open. I almost said 'oh fuck' as I came to a screeching halt in my mad dash across the backyard, but I caught myself just in time.

"OK mom, I'll go to the store." I said instead, speaking a bit louder than normal hoping Mrs. Saunders would hear, and understand that I wasn't avoiding her on purpose. Normally I would have been more than happy to get away from the house and go to the store, but that was before I'd developed other, more compelling, after school interests. I went into the house through the patio door and back out the front with a list of items to buy, a ten-dollar bill and an admonition to return with all the change.

"Hurry back," Mrs. Saunders said as she teased me with another brief glimpse of her tits, "I'll be waiting." Then she blew me another kiss and disappeared into her backyard again. I ran all the way to the store and gathered up the items I needed to purchase then stood impatiently in line waiting for my turn to give money to the clerk. While I waited I resumed an activity that had kept me occupied most of the day. I was developing the habit of picturing every female I saw laying naked on Mrs. Saunders' lounge with her legs spread wide and her hands holding her breasts up for me to suck. Even now, forty years later, every woman I see is subject to my imaginary voyeurism. Not even Mrs. Phillips, the cranky old lady who taught geography that year, was spared from spending time in the lounge chair of my mind. Besides, the geography I was learning from Mrs. Saunders was much more interesting than the geography I was learning from Mrs. Phillips. While I waited impatiently, the clerk, the woman ahead of me in line and the woman who walked by with a half-full grocery cart all logged varying amounts of time in my imaginary lounge. Finally it was my turn to pay for my purchase then I ran back home as fast as I could carrying a half full grocery bag. I put the bag of groceries on the counter in the kitchen, dropped the change on the tile counter beside the sack then, pausing only long enough to shout to mom that I was going out back, dashed out the patio door and around to the side of the house. I paused at the fence to peak through a knothole and make sure Mrs. Saunders was alone.

"Come on," she called softly with a touch of irritation in her voice, "you've already wasted most of the afternoon." I pushed my way through the fence and approached the lounge where Mrs. Saunders was waiting for me, already naked except for a big floppy hat. As soon as I arrived beside the lounge I started to reach for her naked cunt only to have my hand slapped away.

"It's considered good manners," she said as she reached up and, placing her hand on the back of my neck, pulled my face toward hers, "to kiss a girl before you start feeling up her cunt." Our lips met and she pushed her tongue into my mouth. I sucked on her tongue, then when she started to break off the kiss I pushed our lips back together and stuck my tongue into her mouth.

"Very good," she said when we pulled our faces back from each other, "if you don't kiss a girl before you start playing with her tits or pussy you might make her feel like a whore, and most women don't like feeling like a whore. Especially when they are acting like one." She finished as she took my wrist and moved my hand to her waiting cunt. I wasn't really sure what a whore was, I just new it was one of the 'bad' words. I knelt beside the lounge and pushed three fingers into Mrs. Saunders as she laid back on the lounge and slowly moved her hips, fucking her cunt on my fingers.

"Right there," she told me adjusting where my thumb was gently pushing, "just hold your hand there and let me make myself cum." I did as she asked, holding my hand motionless while Mrs. Saunders worked her hips in figure eights pushing her clitoris against my thumb more and more firmly until she closed her legs, capturing my hand between them.

"My little man makes me so fucking horny," she said as she grabbed my head and explored my mouth with her tongue while she jerked her cunt repeatedly against my hand.

"That was so nice," she said as she released my head and relaxed her thighs. She lay sprawled naked on the lounge while her breathing returned to normal.

"Set on the lounge," Mrs. Saunders instructed, seeming to be in a hurry. I sat on the lounge as she slipped off the bed and got on her knees. She pulled down my shorts and pushed me back until I was lying down then took my hard cock in her hot wet mouth. I propped myself up on my elbows so I could watch her mouth moving up and down my hard shaft. I couldn't believe what was happening to me, I remember thinking that I had pee coming out of there not too long before, and now Mrs. Saunders was slurping on it like it was her favorite lollipop. It was another unbelievable experience of sensory overload. The feel of her hot mouth on my cock, the site of her full lips sliding wetly up and down my shaft and the 'yummy' sounds she made while she was doing it had me shooting inside her face in a very short time.

"Go on," she said helping me to pull up my shorts just as we heard the door close on her husband's car in the driveway. I dove through the fence, then crouched down and watched as she quickly slipped her shorts and knotted T-shirt back on then, after blowing me another kiss, walked calmly into the house to welcome her husband home with a kiss from the mouth that had just sucked on my dick. As I watched Mrs. Saunders put her arms around her husbands neck and, while he pushed his hands inside her shorts and massaged her ass, she kissed him and rubbed herself against his body. When she stopped kissing him she slipped her right hand down to his crotch. Her body was in the way, but I could tell she was rubbing his cock through his pants. He laughed and nodded his head then they turned and, still holding on to her husband's arm with her right hand, Mrs. Saunders turned and smiled at me then casually blew me another kiss as they left the room together. I turned and sat on the ground with my back against the fence and thought about what Mrs. Saunders had done with her mouth, and what she and her husband were probably doing in their bedroom while I sat in the dirt. Then I had an idea that was so daring and so scary that I trembled with excitement. I turned around and looked through the knothole to make sure that they hadn't snuck into their back yard while I was't watching, then I slipped through the fence and began to work my way around the house to where I was sure their bedroom window would be. The adrenaline rush I was feeling felt very sexual to me, my cock was already rock hard again.

I found the window, a high narrow one that normally I'd never be able to look into accept Mrs. Saunders had placed a sturdy gardening bench right underneath it. I felt a wave of disappointment when I saw that the blinds were down, and had been closed, but decided to climb up on the bench anyway just to make sure. I found a two-inch gap between the bottom of the blinds and the bottom of the window and carefully peaked through it. I had hit the jackpot. The headboard of their bed was up against the wall just below the window, Mr. Saunders was already naked and lying on the bed I could only see from the middle of his chest down so there was no chance of him seeing me. Mrs. Saunders, also already naked (I was beginning to get the idea she spent a lot of time in that condition) was working his half hard cock with her hand and mouth. As soon as she got it hard enough Mrs. Saunders straddled her husband's prone body and holding his cock with one hand looked directly at me and smiled as she lowered her cunt onto his hard dick. As soon as she was nestled down on top of him with his cock buried completely in her cunt Mrs. Saunders cupped both her breasts and held them up towards me with a slight pout on her face, like she wanted me to suck them while she fucked her husband.

Always good for a surprise and a thrill, Mrs. Saunders then lifted each breast and sucked on her own nipples while she rode up and down on her husbands dick. My hand was down inside my shorts, working my dick in time with Mrs. Saunders up and down movements. While I watched, Mrs. Saunders arched her back and, placing her hands on the bed beside her feet for support, fucked up and down giving me a much better view of Mr. Saunders' hard dick, glistening with his wife's cunt lubricant, sliding in and out of her. Just when I was about to cum again I heard my mother calling from our patio door. I blew a quick kiss to Mrs. Saunders then, jumping down from the bench, dashed across their backyard then through the fence into ours. I heard Mrs. Saunders' son coming into their backyard through the gate just as I disappeared around the corner of our house. Another rush of adrenalin surged through me when I realized how close I came to being caught watching them fuck.

I had table setting duty again, but I didn't mind. I had to count this as a pretty good day in spite of my having spilled trash all over the drive way and not getting over to Mrs. Saunders in time to get my first ever fuck. I did experience my first blowjob, and I got to watch people fucking, besides we were having left over spaghetti; which I considered to be even better than fresh spaghetti. This was back in the days before anyone had even thought of microwave ovens so my mom would put the noodles, the sauce, and a can of corn into her big pot. Then she would warm it over low heat on the stove. She had to stir it constantly to keep it from sticking to the bottom of the pot and burning. In my family left over spaghetti with corn and navy beans with hammocks were considered gourmet meals.

While I set plates and silverware around the table I kept looking over at my older sister, Samantha, she would have been sixteen at that time. She was sitting on the couch in the family room with her feet tucked under her butt, doing homework. As I set the table I started to imagine her naked bouncing up and down on some guy's dick while I watched. Then I started working on coming up with a scheme that would allow me to see her naked, either when she was changing her clothes in her room, or when she was taking a bath. My first thought was to drill a hole through the wall that separated her bedroom from mine, but I rapidly abandoned that idea since any hole big enough for me to see through would be seen by her, and while I desperately wished for a two way mirror, I had no idea where one would get such a thing nor how I could get her to hang it on the wall in the right spot. Actually I'd seen my sister naked several times during my life, when we were younger, I just hadn't seen her since she'd started growing hair around her cunt. As soon as the table was set I locked myself in the bathroom and jerked off thinking about Mrs. Saunders fucking her husband, and about Samantha fucking somebody while I watched. By the time I got back to the kitchen mom was dishing up the spaghetti. I ate two helpings, getting blowjobs and watching people fuck really gives me an apatite. After dinner I jerked off again in the bathroom while Samantha did the dishes, then again while I took my bath, and finally one more time before I went to sleep.

Thursday-

The next day was mom's regular get together with some of her lady friends at the church so I rushed home sure that nothing was going to stop me from fucking Mrs. Saunders' hot wet cunt. When I got to the fence I found a piece of paper folded and stuck in the crack between the boards. I unfolded the paper, my excitement already dashed before I even read it.

Stud

I've had to leave the house to take care of some things. I hope to get back in time for some of our 'play'. If not there's always tomorrow.

Luv

Your Cock Lovin Lil Pussy

I almost cried when I read the note. I re-folded the paper and put it in my pocket. I pushed the boards aside and went over into their backyard anyway planning on doing a little exploring. As I approached the lounge I noticed another white piece of paper. On it was written 'For You - Until Later' I turned it over and almost came in my pants. It was a Polaroid close up of Mrs. Saunders pussy, all wet and open with her pubic hair all matted down; it looked like it had just been fucked. Looking at the picture I pulled my shorts down and pumped my hard cock until I squirted my cum on Mrs. Saunders' lounge.

Pulling my shorts up I went back through the fence and took the note and the picture into my bedroom. Before putting them in my secret hiding place I laid down on my bed and studied the picture of Mrs. Saunders' pussy while I slowly stroked myself to another, almost dry, orgasm. Not having a cunt handy to play with I checked the refrigerator for notes from mom. There I found a list of jobs she expected Samantha and me to do and the information that the spaghetti left over from last night's spaghetti leftovers had been fashioned into a casserole with directions for Samantha to heat it in the oven when it was time for dinner. I had forgotten that mom was meeting dad after her church meeting and they were going to eat out just the two of them then go to another meeting they both had to attend.

"It's not fucking fair," I said out loud.

"You got that right," Samantha said right behind me, causing me to jump and drop the note, "but you better not let them hear you talk like that." I got my work done quickly since I was hoping that Mrs. Saunders would get back at least soon enough for a quick look and touch, if not for sucking or fucking.

"I'm going out back." I announced as I walked toward the patio door.

"What are you doing all afternoon over there in the side yard where nobody can see you?" Samantha asked bringing me to a quick stop.

"Nothing." I told her, the same answer I would have given to mom or dad if they had asked.

"I bet your spying on our neighbor." I stopped and looked back over my shoulder. I denied it, but I was afraid she knew me too well and probably didn't believe me. "Does Mrs. Saunders know she's living next door to a Peeping Tom?" Samantha asked with a smirk on her face that made me wonder if she'd seen something. I hurried around to the side of the house and was disappointed not to find Mrs. Saunders waiting for me on the lounge. I sat down on the ground and leaned against the fence. While I waited I pictured Samantha bouncing up and down on a guy and that got me hard again.

"I'm sorry stud," I was pulled out of my daydream by Mrs. Saunders deep sexy voice, a voice that seemed to grab me by the crotch every time I heard it. I was through the fence like a shot. Mrs. Saunders was dressed much more conservatively than I'd ever seen before. She gave me a warm hug and we probed each other's mouths with our tongues, then she sat on the ground and pulled my shorts down to my ankles.

"Did you get my gift?" She asked as she stroked my hard cock with her soft warm hand.

"Yes," I replied with a big grin on my face.

"What did you do?" She asked as she slipped me into her mouth. I put my hands on the back of her head and started pumping in and out of her mouth like I was fucking a cunt.

"I jerked off," I told her as I pumped, "and came on your lounge."

"Mmmmm," she moaned as she grabbed my ass with both hands and encouraged me to pump even harder in and out of her wet mouth. I held myself completely inside her face with double handfuls of her hair while my cock twitched and pumped a few drops of cum onto her tongue.

"I love having my mouth fucked," Mrs. Saunders told me as she pulled my shorts back up. She gave me a kiss with the same mouth that I'd just fucked, "bye hun," she said, then pushed me back through the fence as the sound of her husband's car door closing came over the gate. When I got to the patio door Samantha was just opening it to call me for dinner. She seemed a little flushed, almost like she'd been exercising. We at the spaghetti casserole standing opposite each other at the bar that separated the kitchen from the family room. We both ate directly from the casserole pan so we wouldn't have to wash any dishes. I stared at my sister while we ate. Damn, I thought, I don't remember her ever wearing a T-shirt without a bra under it. Her tits looked hot with the cotton material of the T-shirt hanging over them. Samantha sighed, and in the process pushed her braless boobs up against the shirt.

"Well," she asked between bites, "did you get to see anything?" I could feel my face turning red.

"No." I concentrated on the spaghetti casserole, not wanting to look at her. Samantha and I had always been close, we'd always understood that we were a team; that it was us against the parents. We never ratted each other out; we had always been tied together by bounds of misbehavior. Samantha let the subject drop. We finished eating and put the casserole pan and the forks to soak in the sink then I went to take a bath while Samantha did some more homework. I jerked off in the tub, thinking about how sexy Samantha's tits looked in that T-shirt she was wearing. Jacking off in the tub, or shower, was quickly becoming a habit that would stay with me my whole life. After my bath I put on the T-shirt and pair of shorts that I would be wearing to bed and went back out into the family room to watch television until my bedtime. On nights when the parents were out I was officially supposed to go to bed at my usual time while Samantha was allowed to stay up till the parents got home. The way it really worked was I'd get up and dash into my bedroom as soon as the car pull into the driveway and would be in bed pretending to be asleep by the time they came in the front door.

When I walked into the family room I noticed that Samantha had changed into the baby doll pajamas that she wore to bed, but instead of wearing her robe over them, like she would have if mom and dad had been home, the robe was laying on the couch beside her. My cock got hard again as soon as I saw my older sister in what was, for a teen-age girl, a very sexy pair of pajamas. I could just make out her nipples through the top. She was setting with one leg folded under her in such a way that I could almost, but not quit see up the leg of the short bottoms. I think she saw the tent in the front of my shorts before I managed to sit down. I saw her smile as she pretended to read her history book. I couldn't believe my sister was teasing me like this. While pretending to watch the TV, I moved around in the chair trying to find a position that would allow me to see further up the leg of her short baby doll pajama bottoms without being too obvious.

"Is there something your trying to look at?" Samantha asked closing her book.

"I'm not interested in anything you've got." I answered then concentrated on the TV Show.

"You'd rather look at the old hag next door." Samantha challenged, unable to completely hide the hurt feelings. I wanted to defend Mrs. Saunders, but couldn't without tacitly admitting that I at least wanted to look at her.

"She's not an old hag." I shot back.

"How would you know," Samantha asked, being as snotty as she knew how to be, "you've never really seen anything, you just peek through the fence and pretend."

"I have too," I answered, a lifetime of sharing secrets with my sister was a habit hard to break, "I've seen everything."

"Yea, right," Samantha scoffed, "she's going to show a kid like you 'every thing'." I walked out of the room, making no attempt to hide my hard cock holding the front of my shorts out. I returned a moment later and handed Samantha the Polaroid of Mrs. Saunders cunt. I had expected her to make some noise indicating disgust then drop the picture on the floor. Instead Samantha studied the picture with considerable interest.

"How do I know that's really her?" She challenged.

"Where else would I get a picture like that?"

"From one of your nasty little friends at school, the same place you get the pictures from those magazines." Samantha seemed to be almost on the verge of tears. She was saying that she didn't believe me, but I could tell she new it was the truth. It was beyond my comprehension, but Samantha seemed to be jealous. So rarely do I get one up on my older sister that I couldn't resist rubbing it in.

"Not only has she let me see it," I bragged, "she's let me touch it. She lets me touch her cunt." Samantha acted like she'd been slapped in the face when I said cunt.

"That's not a nice word." She said, almost in a whisper.

"That's what She calls it." I informed my sister. "I've touched her cunt," I continued my bragging streak, "she's sucked my dick, I've even watched through the window while she fucked her husband." I was worked up by this time, I stood right in front of my sister and pulled my shorts down revealing my hard cock. "You want to suck it too?" I realized that I might have gone a little too far with that last move, but Samantha, while she did not suck it she did reach out and touch my dick while she gave it a good looking over. While standing in the family room with my shorts down around my knees and my hard cock being handled and examined by my sister, I realized that, in spite of being four years older than I was, Samantha was probably just as hungry for first hand knowledge of the opposite sex as I was. While she held my dick in her hand I grasped the bottom of her baby doll top and started to lift it. Samantha started to stop me, then thought better of it and released my cock so she could raise her arms allowing me to remove the top and look at her firm young sixteen-year-old breasts.

"Are mine as nice as hers?" Samantha asked as she pushed her chest out proudly. I was awestruck. I had never thought of my sister as being the owner of such a magnificent pair of tits. They weren't as big as Mrs. Saunders, but they were firm and had large nipples surrounded by brown areolas that were rapidly crinkling under my gaze.

"Yours," I said with a voice that sounded funny to me, as I reached out and touched her left nipple with my right index finger and felt the change as it hardened, "are much nicer." Samantha smiled shyly and blushed with proud embarrassment, but made no attempt to move away from my touch, or to cover her breasts. I took her hands and pulled Samantha to her feet.

"I want to see you." I said, Samantha looked confused for a second then blushed. "I want to see how your cunt compares to the one in the picture." Samantha shook her head, but made no move to stop me when I tucked my fingers under her waistband and began to pull them off her hips. Stepping back I watched as her baby doll bottoms slipped lower and revealed the top of her pubic hair. Samantha hid her face with her hands, but her nipples were harder than ever. I continued to pull her pants down her firm muscular thighs then let them fall to the floor. I pulled my shirt off, then pulled my shorts down the rest of the way and stepped out of them.

There we were, boy and girl, brother and sister standing facing each other, naked. The adrenalin rush was even greater than what I felt with Mrs. Saunders. I put my hands on her sides, then ran them up to her breasts, Samantha's beautiful, firm breasts with those magnificent nipples and areoles. Her skin was so warm and smooth, my hard cock throbbed with excitement when I touched her. I moved my hands back down to her waist and pushed her back toward the couch.

"I want to really see you," I said as she sat on the couch. Again she covered her face and blushed, but she made no effort to stop me, nor did she offer any resistance when I lifted her knees and spread her legs. I got down on my knees and with a hand on the inside of each of her thighs leaned close to her crotch. I looked at her cunt, I smelled her cunt, I fingered her cunt and clitoris the way Mrs. Saunders had taught me to. Then I leaned further forward, I figured if Mrs. Saunders could do it to me I could do it to Samantha. I stuck out my tongue and touched her fresh young virgin pussy. It seemed like the taste of her crawled up the sides of my tongue, mixed with the smell of her being inhaled through my nose and permeated my system. It was the sweetest, most delicate flavor I've ever experienced. It saturated my body and enslaved me.

"No." Samantha said, when my mouth first touched her between her legs. She put her hands on my head and tried to push me away. I persisted and her pushing slowly changed to griping my head and holding me locked to her while she moved her pussy up and down my face.

"Mmmm, oh god that feels good," I think she repeated that about a thousand times while I licked her cunt and clitoris. Her whole body tensed then she relaxed completely. Let my head rest on her thigh, where I could continue to memorize her pussy's look, feel, smell and taste. I have lately come to the conclusion that most of the last forty years has been devoted to an obsessive quest to find a pussy as nice as Samantha's. I got to my feet and stood, once again feeling like a hard on with a body attached to it, facing my sister with my cock sticking out begging for attention. She took me in her warm hand and slowly stroked my hard dick.

"Mrs. Saunders sucked on this?" She asked. I nodded my head yes. I think she was spurred on by a sense of competition with Mrs. Saunders. She leaned forward and took my hard cock in her warm mouth. Since I'd been jerking off several times a day for the last couple of days I managed, in spite of the sexual thrill of watching my sister suck on my cock, hold off for a couple of minutes before depositing a couple of drops on her tongue. Samantha sat back, working her tongue in her mouth the way people do when they've tasted something and are trying to decide whether they likely it or not.

"It's not too bad," she finally announced, "but I thought there would be more of it."

"Well I just jacked off in the bath." I informed her, defending my ejaculat production.

"Ewww, and I have to use the same tub?" Samantha said, expressing a disgust that I could not understand.

"You just had it in your mouth," I reminded her, "and swallowed it."

"Don't remind me," Samantha answered with a grin that let me know she was kidding, "it's really not that bad." Samantha finished with an expression that communicated her lack of commitment to her stated position on the taste of my cum. It's a testimony to how close Samantha and I were that, after we gave each other orgasms through oral sex, we sat side by side on the couch and watched television naked, already comfortable with each others nudity.

We put our night close back on as time approached for mom and dad to arrive back home. I moved back to the chair and Samantha, setting with one foot under her and her legs slightly spread to accommodate that position, would pull the crotch of her baby dolls to the side every time she noticed me looking at her. We'd both giggle every time she flashed me. We saw the lights on the window curtains that warned us mom and dad were pulling into the driveway about half an hour later than usual. I headed for my bedroom while Samantha stood up and pulled on her robe. Mom did not approve of her setting around the family room with nothing but her baby dolls on. I'm sure she would have had a heart attack if she'd ever caught Samantha and I naked, playing with each other's bodies.

I climbed under the covers and started to fain sleep when I realized I'd left the Polaroid of Mrs. Saunders' well-fucked pussy laying on the coffee table. I could already hear mom and dad talking to Samantha, so I couldn't go back to retrieve the picture. I waited, fearing I'd hear a scream followed by demands to know where the 'filth' came from. A few minutes later Samantha came into my room. She pulled the picture from the pocket of her robe, which was untied and hanging open.

"Here," she whispered, leaning over my bed, "you forgot this." Without taking the picture from her, I put my hands on her cheeks and brought our mouths together. Samantha started to pull back when I pushed my tongue between her lips, then relaxed and kissed me back. Our tongues danced around each other for a few seconds before she pulled away.

"I've got to go," she whispered, then gave me another quick kiss, "I don't want to be caught in here French kissing my little brother, they might think I'm some kind of pervert."

"Thank you." I said, with complete sincerity as I took the picture from her hand. I waited for a few minutes after Samantha left my room before I quietly got out of bed and put the picture back in my secret hiding place. It wasn't until I was back in bed, and almost asleep, that I realized my secret hiding place wasn't all that 'secret' if Samantha knew about my girlie pictures. That's OK, I thought as I drifted off, I know where she keeps her diary.

Friday-

The introduction of sex play into our relationship increased 'the us vs. them' feeling we had already developed. The next morning, when Samantha and I passed each other when I was on my way into the bathroom and she was on her way back to her bedroom, Samantha cupped my crotch and whispered, "Good morning stud" then gave me a quick kiss. I went into the bathroom, pulled my cock out while she could see it, then closed the door and took a piss. I felt pretty good that morning, I hadn't even fucked anybody yet and I had two females calling me 'stud'. With the door closed and locked I brushed my teeth, then sat on the toilet and jerked off with my pants down around my ankles.

When I got home after school mom was laying down in her and dad's bedroom with the curtains drawn and the lights off. I brought her some water then closed the door on my way out, promising not to make any noise. I was torn about what I should do next. I had great expectations that Mrs. Saunders was waiting for me on her lounge and that I'd get to actually fuck for the first time, but Samantha wouldn't be home for another half hour and I desperately wanted to see what she might have written in her diary about our little excursion into forbidden sexuality the night before. Curiosity got the best of me and I decided to take a few minutes to read the diary. All I found in Samantha's hiding place was a note.

Snoopy,

I moved it.

Your Loving Sister

I hadn't read her diary in several weeks so I had no idea how long the note had been waiting for me. I carefully put it back just the way I found it and headed for the bathroom to jerk off before I went to what I hoped was my appointment with destiny.

I stepped out the patio door and started walking around the house. What, I thought slowing my steps down almost to a crawl, if I can't do it right. I hadn't even fucked any one yet and already I had performance anxiety. I didn't realize until years later that it was my total lack of experience that Mrs. Saunders found so attractive. Teaching a young virgin how to fuck is what turned her on. I peaked through the fence and there she was, on the lounge, reading a book. I was a bit confused and concerned, she was wearing more clothing than I'd ever seen her in, other than the previous day when she'd obviously been somewhere away from home. She was wearing a button up blouse and appeared to have on a bra. She was wearing pedal pushers that hugged her legs all the way down to here ankles. I hesitatingly pushed my way through the fence and stood looking at her. Mrs. Saunders put her book down then held out her arms in welcome. Walking over to her, my cock already hard in anticipation, I leaned over and kissed her while she held me in her arms.

"Sit," she said, patting a place on the lounge as she moved over to make room for me after we stopped kissing. "I'm home alone with no where to go and nothing to do, so if you don't have any chores we can do anything you want." She paused and smiled at me. "Before we do anything though you have to tell me what you want to do." I was suddenly struck with a bad case of shyness, I just couldn't bring myself to say the words. "Come on," Mrs. Saunders encouraged me, "you know the word, I know you do, I heard you say it yesterday."

"I want to fuck you." I finally managed to say.

"That's what I wanted to hear," Mrs. Saunders said taking my hands in hers, "but you need to know that fucking is not something you do to a woman, it is something that you and a woman do together." She searched my face, "do you understand?"

"I think so." I told her, even though it wasn't until several years later that I truly understood the difference she was trying to teach me.

"Good," she smiled, then stood up, "I want you to undress me." Whenever I'd imagined this over the last few days I'd always pictured her already naked on the lounge with me climbing on top of her and sticking it in.

"Unbutton my blouse," Mrs. Saunders instructed. The blouse seemed to have about a million little tiny buttons down the front, and it seemed to take forever for me to get to the last one.

"Fold it and put it on the table," she continued her instructions as I pulled the blouse off her shoulders and down her arms. I was often drafted by my mom to help fold clothes after they had been brought in from the clothesline so I did a competent job on Mrs. Saunders blouse, especially considering that my hard cock was aching to be relieved.

"The pants zip in the back," Mrs. Saunders informed me when I was done with the blouse. I walked around behind her and unzipped the zipper, then unhooked the metal hook that held the waistband closed. Moving back around to the front, I worked her pedal pushers down off her hips, then down her thighs. I got down on my knees and pulled the legs off each of her feet as she held onto the top of my head for balance and lifted her feet one at time. My face was looking directly at her white-cotton-panty covered crotch and I was fascinated by the way her pubic hair was flattened against the material. I stood up and folded the pants then put them with the blouse. I turned back around and looked at Mrs. Saunders, she was wearing a plane white bra and panties. For some reason, that I could not understand at that time, seeing her in her bra and panties, even though they covered more of her than did the bikini she had been wearing the day she flashed me, excited me much more than the bikini had.

"Come here," Mrs. Saunders said after letting me admire her underwear for a few seconds, "I want you to go around behind me and look at the hooks holding the back of the bra together." I walked around her and examined the hooks. "Now, come back around to my front." I did as she instructed. "Now, I want you reach around and undo my bra while you kiss me." I must admit to grinning when I heard this. I knew I was going to surprise and please Mrs. Saunders. I had, a couple of years before, using my mom's and sister's bras, developed the skill and technique to unhook even four hook bras almost instantly with one hand. I had done this not as an aid to undressing girls, but as a means on irritating my sister. On many occasions, and always in public places, such as just as we were walking into church, I would do no more that seemingly pat her on the back and her bra would be unhooked. Since she and I had an unbreakable 'don't rat out your sibling' rule she thought up several mean things to do to me in retaliation. Pushing my tongue deeply into Mrs. Saunders' mouth, I reached around with my right hand and unhooked her bra, then slipped my left hand under the loosened cup and began to gently pinch her nipple.

"Mmmm," was all she said at first since I refused to stop kissing her, "how did you do that?" She asked as she stepped back leaving her bra in my hands, after we stopped kissing.

"I learned to do that so I could irritate my sister," I admitted.

"That was slick," she said with obvious admiration, "I've never had a man, no matter how experienced, take off my bra so neatly and easily." I smiled and blushed from the praise. My embarrassment from her praise didn't stop me from cupping both of her breasts with my hands and start sucking on one of her nipples.

"Oh, yes, that feels good," Mrs. Saunders encouraged me, petting my hair and caressing my back and ass, "but don't forget you still have to take my panties off me." I continued sucking on her nipples for just a little while longer then got down on my knees and started working her white panties off her hips. When I had them down far enough for her matted pubic hair to show above them I used both hands to comb her kinky hair and gently pulled tufts of it to un-matt it. Mrs. Saunders put her hands on my shoulders and watched with a smile, but no comments as I played with her hair. Once I was satisfied with the state of Mrs. Saunders' pubic hair I pulled her panties the rest of the way down her legs. She stepped out of her panties and I took a closer look at them. The crotch was wet, I put them to my nose and inhaled deeply. I loved the smell of both Mrs. Saunders and Samantha.

"My cunt got so wet thinking about us fucking," Mrs. Saunders explained as I examined the crotch. She spread her legs in a manner that even I, still a virgin, easily recognized as an invitation. I slipped my hand between her thighs and pushed my fingers into her wet, open pussy.

"You've learned to do that so well." Mrs. Saunders complimented me on my cunt fingering. She reached down and pulled me to my feet. "Let's take your clothes off," she said as she pulled my T-Shirt over my head. She folded my shirt and put it on the table with her blouse and pants then got down on her knees and pulled my shorts down my legs. After I stepped out of my shorts she tossed them onto the table l then cupped my cock and balls with her hand. I could feel myself throbbing against her palm, but I wasn't anywhere near cuming yet.

"Let's set on the lounge." Mrs. Saunders said as she released my genitals and moved over to recline on the lounge the same way she had the previous time, with her legs spread and her knees hooked over the arm rests. I straddled the lounge and sat close, my hard cock just an inch or two from her open, wet cunt.

"Now," Mrs. Saunders said as she leaned forward and gently touched my chest, "I want you to remember this the rest of your life." She had become very serious.

"Yes Mrs. Saunders." I answered giving her all of my attention.

"You know how I sucked on your cock the last couple of days?"

"Yes." I answered with what must have been a big silly grin.

"I want you to use your mouth and tongue on my cunt before you fuck me." I nodded my head and started to move my butt back toward the end of the lounge so I could lean forward and tongue her pussy for her. "Women will appreciate you a lot more," she continued as I used my fingers to gently pull her open so I could run my tongue up and down her juicy insides, "if you give them a couple of orgasms this way before you fuck them." I ran my tongue up and down the wet folds of Mrs. Saunders' cunt then, replacing my tongue with a couple of fingers, I concentrated on flicking the tip of my tongue up and down over her clitoris while I fucked my fingers in and out of her wet pussy. Mrs. Saunders used both her hands to hold my face in her crotch until she'd cum several times then she started pulling me up towards her head.

"Fuck me," she begged, "fuck me good." In spite of all the promises and delays I couldn't believe it was really happening, my hard twelve-year-old cock was about to fuck Mrs. Saunders' grown up woman's cunt. I was overcome by the feel of her hot wet pussy as it enveloped my dick, and came almost immediately. I was determined to not have my first ever fuck end that fast so I kept pumping my cock in and out of her. That day, with my very first fuck, I learned that I did not loose my erection after an orgasm if I kept on fucking. From then on, at least into my early forties, I always came at least twice, and often three times every time I fucked.

I kept pumping and, while I knew my cock wasn't as big as her husbands, it took me a long time to cum a second time and, as stimulated as she was before I started, Mrs. Saunders continued to orgasm over and over until I was done. After my second orgasm (the third for the afternoon counting the one in the bathroom) Mrs. Saunders turned on her side so we could both lay on the lounge, our naked bodies touching, as we caressed each other and told each other repeatedly how great it was.

"Wow," Mrs. Saunders said, "I never expected that. You are a very talented young man." I continued to gently finger her wet open pussy; an activity that periodically sent little shivers through Mrs. Saunders body.

"I know that most people would say that what we are doing is wrong." I said softly.

"That's why you can never tell anybody."

"Yes, I know." This was one of the differences between Mrs. Saunders and Samantha. Samantha would have known immediately from the way I said it that I'd already told some one.

"Is there something wrong if I have these thoughts about my sister?" Mrs. Saunders looked at me, and hugged me while she answered.

"Samantha is a hot young woman, I think there'd be something wrong with you if you didn't think about fucking her." Although most people might point out that a women, who was the mother of an almost grown son, who would seduce a twelve year old boy, was not the person to ask what was normal; I felt a great wave of relief.

"Have you two done anything?"

"No." My hesitation was so brief I don't think that she noticed.

"Well, I shouldn't have asked." Mrs. Saunders got up from the lounge, dislodging two of my fingers from her cunt, and started getting dressed.

"If you and Samantha do anything," Mrs. Saunders paused and looked at me before she started buttoning her blouse while she spoke, "don't tell me. Whatever a man and a woman do in private should never be shared with anyone else, not without the woman's permission. You better get dressed now, it's getting late." I got up and picked up the pair of Mrs. Saunders' panties that were lying on the patio.

"Can I keep them?" I asked as I brought them to my nose and inhaled her smell.

"Yes," Mrs. Saunders replied after a moment's hesitation, "God, you make me want to fuck you all over again when you do that. Know get dressed." I pulled on my shorts then folded her panties and stuffed them into my pocket. It made me a little sad to see Mrs. Saunders body being covered up by clothes.

"We're going to a football game this evening," Mrs. Saunders told me as she smoothed and straightened her clothing, "and tomorrow Mr. Saunders and I are going out of town for the week end," she paused and gave me an apologetic look, "but I promise you I'll be on this lounge Monday afternoon with a wet cunt that'll be eager to be fucked by you again." Mrs. Saunders took me in her arms and we kissed, our tongues exploring each other's mouths, until she released me and sent me back through the fence so she could meet her husband who had just arrived home from work.

I walked back to the patio door feeling like quit the studly young man. As soon as I got inside the house Samantha signaled me to be quite, then informed me in whispers that; mom still wasn't feeling well; dad was working some overtime and wouldn't be home until late; and that she had ordered a pizza for us to share. Samantha looked at me with a funny look on her face while she talked.

"What is it?" I asked. Samantha signaled for me to follow her and led me through the kitchen to the laundry room, about as far as you can get from mom and dad's bedroom without leaving the house.

"Tell me about it." Samantha asked as she hopped up and sat on the washer. I could feel myself blushing and new it was useless to claim that nothing happened. I jumped up and sat beside her on the washer. I could feel the heat from her body.

"It sure looked like you were having fun." Samantha looked at me with a wicked grin. I grinned back, and my over-worked cock got hard as I thought about Samantha watching Mrs. Saunders and me fucking on the lounge in her back yard.

"I saw you lick her," Samantha asked a little too nonchalantly, "like you did me, is that where you learned how?"

"No," I put my left arm around my sister's waist as we set on the washer and talked, "when I did it to you, it was my first time." Samantha smiled, then blushed and looked away.

"Whose," Samantha hesitated and stared down at the floor as her face turned a brighter red, "who do you like the best?"

"You," I said, putting my right hand on her thigh right below her shorts, "your cunt tastes much better than hers" Samantha jumped and blushed an even deeper shade of red when I used the word 'cunt', but I could tell she was getting turned on by my choice of words. I slid my hand up further until my fingertips just brushed my sister's wet pussy lips.

"We can't really do anything," Samantha observed as her body relaxed into me and her legs slowly spread allowing me greater access to her cunt. Our mouths came together and, this time, Samantha was the more aggressive, pushing her tongue between my lips as my fingers pushed deeper into her pussy. After exploring Samantha's mouth with my tongue and her cunt with my fingers for several minutes I was overcome with young lust and, slipping down from the washer and with her full cooperation, pulled her shorts down her legs and let them fall onto the service porch floor. Samantha scooted forward on the washer then leaned back against the washing machine control panel and, lifting her legs, held them with her hands under her knees, spreading them wide to welcome my lips and tongue to her teenage pussy. I concentrated on her hard little clitoris with my flicking tongue and pushed two fingers into her tight cunt. We knew nothing about g spots back then, but the angle must have been just right because Samantha began, almost immediately, humping herself against my face and fingers. She started moaning a little too loud so I reached up with my other hand and covered her mouth that seemed to turn her on even more. When Samantha came she drenched my mouth and chin with a warm liquid. At first I thought she had totally lost control and was peeing on me, which, in a way was a turn on of sorts. It didn't taste or smell like pee though. It would be a number of years before I ran into this phenomenon again.

After her orgasm subsided Samantha slid down from the washer and, placing both of her hands on the back of my head, kissed me thoroughly then preceded to lick her own juices off my lips and chin. She seemed to be obsessed with the idea of tasting herself on my face. The doorbell rang just as, I'm sure, Samantha was about to get on her knees and return my kindness. I dashed to the front door, stopping only long enough to grab the money from the kitchen counter to pay for the pizza. I wanted to get there before the delivery person rang the bell again and disturbed mom. While I was taking care of the pizza, Samantha was putting her shorts back on and met me in the living room. We turned on the TV, snuggled up on the couch, then Samantha gave me an affectionate kiss on the forehead before we dove into the food.

"Do you ever," I started asking, talking around a bite of pizza and trying to figure out how to word my question, "ever play with yourself?" From the way Samantha blushed I knew immediately that she did, and she knew that I knew so there was no reason to try to hide it. After we had polished off most of the pizza I moved to the chair that dad usually sat in. This put me in a position where I'd be hidden from the hallway if mom should happen to get out of bed, but where Samantha could see me. I pulled my shorts down and began to stroke my still hard cock. She never took her eyes of my slowly moving hand. Leaning closer as my leg muscles began to flex rhythmically, Samantha oohed softly when the milky white viscous fluid erupted from the end of my dick.

"What do you think about when you do that?" Samantha asked.

"You, mostly." I answered honestly. We both blushed. "Your turn," I said pulling my shorts back up and moving to the couch, "I want to watch you do it." Samantha blushed and shook her head, but fair is fair and she moved over to the chair a few minutes later. I watched with just as rapt attention as she had when I was jerking off. I watched as Samantha used her flat hand to rub little circles over and around her clitoris, paying very little attention to her pussy. She 'nnnhnned' softly several times while her leg muscles clenched and relaxed then it looked like her entire body was going into a spasm just before she relaxed entirely and let her head slump to the side. While she sat with her legs stretched out in front of the chair her hand continued to make very soft, gentle circles on her crotch.

"What do you think about?" I asked. I watched as Samantha removed her hand from her crotch and pulled up her shorts while her face turned bright red once again. I waited, knowing that eventually she would tell me.

"I imagine that I'm laying in bed," Samantha began in a voice so soft I had to move closer to hear her words, "almost asleep, when a man suddenly jumps on the bed and starts ripping my pajamas off. I try to fight him off, but he's just two strong for me, after he pulls the tops of my pajamas off he holds me down and plays with my breasts. I try to push him off but he's too strong for me." I wish my cock were as resilient today as it was forty years ago; I was getting hard again, and started rubbing my crotch while I listed to Samantha's fantasy. Samantha's hands had begun to massage her breasts while she talked. "He pulls my pajama bottoms off, then forces my legs apart. He touches me with his hands and forces his fingers inside me before he finally, ah…"

"Say the words." I softly ordered my older sister. She looked at me and blushed some more. "I bet you can't say it." I challenged her.

"Then he fucks me." Samantha finished defiantly.

"What does he fuck?" I asked.

"He fucks my cunt." In spite of her red face, redder than I'd ever seen her blush before, and the tremor in her voice, I would have sworn Samantha almost came just from saying "He fucks my cunt." The almost overpowering urge to grab my older sister and fuck her on the living room floor was short circuited by the lights on the window, which announced the arrival of dad, home from work. Samantha dashed into her bedroom to get her robe, while I straightened my shorts and did my best to hide my hard cock. Samantha was back in the living room and setting beside me on the couch by the time dad, carrying his briefcase and a couple of loose file folders, came in through the front door.

"Hi dad," we chimed in unison as he closed the door.

"How's your mom?"

"She's asleep." Samantha answered.

"Good, that's the only thing that helps her when she gets those headaches." Dad dropped the briefcase and file folders on the coffee table then disappeared towards his and mom's bedroom. Coming back a few minutes later and, picking up the pizza box, sat in his chair and ate ravenously while Samantha and I pretended to be engrossed in the TV. I'm sure that Samantha was as acutely aware of my body next to hers as I was of her body next to mine. When the time came, we each kissed dad good night then headed for our rooms stopping in the hallway where we were hidden from view to kiss and fondle each other for a couple of minutes before we headed to our separate beds. I jerked off thinking about a man raping Samantha, half the time I imagined that I was watching somebody rape her and half the time I imagined that I was the one raping her; I'm sure she did the same.

Saturday-

The next morning Samantha and I got up before mom and dad, like we did every Saturday. We got dressed then fixed ourselves some rice for breakfast (as far as I'm concerned the perfect breakfast still consists of one bowl of cooked rice with butter, sugar and cinnamon, followed by a second bowl of rice with milk, sugar and cinnamon), and we watched the Saturday morning cartoons while we ate. Neither of us mentioned the events of the last two days until I reached into my pocket and discovered Mrs. Saunders underwear.

"What are those?" Samantha asked as I sniffed the crotch of the panties. It was obvious that my sister had abandoned her voyeurism before I had claimed my trophy.

"Mrs. Saunders' panties." I informed her taking another sniff. I had hoped for some gagging sounds or at least a disgusted 'ewwwww' from my older sister; instead she reached over and took the panties from my hand and delicately sniffed them herself then handed them back to me without comment. I heard mom and dad coming into the room and stuffed them back into my pocket. Mom and dad, as was their custom, left around 10:00 am for a round of golf with their best buddy couple followed by lunch and cocktails at the country club. Samantha and I knew we had about four hours to do as we pleased.

"I've got an idea," I announced after enough time had passed to insure that mom and dad would not, having forgotten some important item, make a sudden reappearance.

"What?" Samantha asked with her usual mix of curiosity and suspicion.

"Oh, just a little game we might play?"

"WHAT?" Samantha shouted.

"Why don't you go back to your room," I suggested leaning closer and whispering even though we were the only ones in the house, "put your pajamas back on and lay down in your bed and pretend to be asleep."

"Why?" Samantha's curiosity was beginning to show.

"I'll sneak in," I continued feeling adrenaline surge through my body just from the thought of what I was suggesting, "and pretend to force you." I left unstated what exactly I was going to pretend to force her to do, but we both knew what I meant. Samantha sat silently considering my proposal for several minutes before she spoke.

"OK." Was all she said before she stood up and headed back towards her bedroom. "Wait about five minutes," she instructed just before she turned down the hallway, "then come in." I waited, cock hard and my body saturated with lust and adrenaline, for the seemingly eternal five minutes to pass. I stood up and took my clothes off before leaving the living room since I did not want to be hampered with taking them off when I was trying to take Samantha's off. I opened the door and, after slipping quietly into her darkened room, closed it behind me. Samantha was lying on her bed doing a credible job of appearing to be asleep.

"What's going on? Who are you?" Samantha said, 'coming awake' as soon as I climbed on the bed, and the fight was on. I really hadn't expected her to fight as hard as she did, she probably could have fought me off if she had wanted to. She fought just hard enough to loose while she made me work for my victory. She seemed to instinctively know that the harder she fought, the more realistic she made it, the greater the thrill would be for both of us. At just the right moment she moved in just the right way to allow me to pull her baby doll pajama top off baring her breasts for my attentions. I held both of Samantha's hands over her head, holding one of her wrists with each of my hands while I straddled her stomach and sucked hungrily on her nipples. It was hard to tell if her moans were of pleasure or of mock fear. She bucked up against me as I tongued the entire surface of each of her breasts, my hard cock rubbed against the hot, sweaty, naked skin of her stomach. Sucking her left nipple firmly into my mouth I slipped off her body and, holding both her wrists above her head with my left hand used my write hand to work her baby doll pajama bottoms off her hips and down her legs. Her 'fighting' now consisted almost entirely of moves calculated to get her bottoms off as quickly as possible. Once Samantha was completely naked I pushed her legs apart and positioned myself on my hands and knees between her thighs. I still held her wrists over her head with my hands and supported my weight with my elbows.

My face was only a couple of inches from hers as I lowered my body onto Samantha. My hard cock found the hot wet opening of Samantha's cunt and slipped into her with ease. My sister and I stared into each other eyes as my cock penetrated her pussy for the first time. Once I was completely inside her Samantha wrapped her legs around my waist and held me tightly. I lowered my mouth to hers and we kissed. As soon as our lips touched I felt like a jolt of electrical current ran from my mouth down my body to my cock, it felt like it ran from Samantha's pussy to her mouth then back to me. We plunged our tongues into each other's mouths and ground our crotches together, moving almost as one person. I could feel every spasm of her cunt muscles and I'm sure she could feel every twitch of my hard cock. I have no memory of how long we laid on her bed, joined and moving slowly against each other. I know that I came, then came again, and that Samantha came three times before we separated and laid side by side, our sweaty bodies touching at almost every point, while we visually and tactilely explored and memorized each other. Although neither one of us had the words to express it, we both knew that we'd never find another person who would excite us like we did each other.

Epilogue-

Needless to say we have reenacted that little rape scene hundreds of times over the years. Mrs. Saunders turned out to be a bit more astute than I had given her credit for. The next Monday afternoon she made me bring Samantha over. She lectured us about birth control, about not getting caught, and more than anything else on not letting society make us feel guilty for the natural, innocent love and lust we had for each other. The next day she made arrangements for Samantha to get birth control pills.

I still remember a day several weeks later when Samantha and I had both gone through the fence to visit with the scantily clad Mrs. Saunders. Mrs. Saunders could tell that Samantha had something on her mind so, after a quick blow job, they sent me back home with instructions not to try to spy on them through the fence. Almost an hour later Samantha got home looking and acting much more relaxed. The next time mom and dad were out of the house she gave me a special thank you for letting her talk to Mrs. Saunders alone. I wasn't left in the dark though; I had long since found Samantha's new hiding place and was once again regularly reading her diary. Turns out she had a crush on one of the teachers at school, a young, first year female teacher. Mrs. Saunders had assured her that it was perfectly normal to have a crush on another girl at that stage of her life, and if she continued to have crushes on other girls that would be ok too.

We are both forty years older now. Samantha has been living with the same partner for close to twenty years, she's a very nice woman who gets along well with me and has no problem with Samantha and my close relationship. I do not know if she has any idea how close our relationship really is, that's between her and Samantha. Samantha assures me that I'm the only man she's ever loved, emotionally or physically. I've recently realized that I've been on a forty-year search for a pussy as perfect as Samantha's. I know it's a futile endeavor, but the hunt can be exciting.