Carole Wilson

Two sisters

CHAPTER ONE

Sybil slapped four slices of bacon into the electric frying pan. She could hear her husband Sid in the bathroom and knew that when he came out, he'd be ill-tempered because the alarm clock hadn't gone off this morning and he feared being late on this, his first morning tutoring the wealthy Dunlap sisters. If she had her way she'd be lolling in bed right now, instead of staring at raw meat and slimy eggs, but she'd made a vow long ago that she'd never force her husband into making his own breakfast – the way her mother had forced her to as a child. Not that he gives a damn, she muttered, stepping back to escape a sizzling spit of bacon grease.

"For Chrissakes, isn't breakfast ready yet?" Sid poked his head in the kitchen door, his fingers working at the buttons of his short-sleeved blue shirt. His eyes were still puffy with sleep.

Sid sat down at the table, throwing the morning paper to the floor and sliced a wedge of butter to scrape over the toast that Sybil had dumped over his shoulder and onto his plate. The irritating noise was torture to her as she was already beginning a sinus headache from the heavy Los Angeles summer time smog inversion that had settled over the valley, and it was all she could do to keep from screaming at him. Wordlessly, she served him breakfast and sat down opposite him with a cup of black coffee. Sybil never ate breakfast; maybe because she'd cooked so many over the seven years of marriage.

"You wouldn't have to rush if you had the girls come over here, you know," Sybil put in, knowing her suggestion would be met with a barrage of negatives. Still, she persisted. "Certainly if the Dunlaps have that much money they could afford to send their kids over in a cab…"

Sid tacitly cursed her with one of his "don't tell me how to run my business" looks and chomped on the crunchy toast, then dabbed the crust in the yellow pool of egg yolk and raised it to his mouth. A tiny speck of yellow egg dribbled from his black mustache, and Sybil had to look the other way to keep from gagging.

He does that just to bug me, she thought, distracting herself by thumbing through the society section of the paper. The sinus headache put her in a rotten disposition, and when she felt rotten she spoke her mind. "Really, Sid, I don't understand why you made such a big deal of converting my sewing room into a classroom for you if you never use it…"

"Knock it off!" Sid grunted, wiping his mouth clean with a paper napkin. Sybil knew it was useless to push the point; you couldn't push Sid into anything. But it was time she started asking questions, she decided.

When Sid had come home from the interview with the Dunlaps yesterday he had, in answer to her questioning, admitted to being successful in being hired, but that's where the conversation stopped.

Then, too, she'd noticed how strange he was acting when he came home last night from his interview. He had a funny look in his eye, and she couldn't help but notice that there was an obvious bulge in his trousers. The way he kept staring at her, too as if he was debating or mulling something over in his mind and was trying to find the answer in her eyes. It made her uneasy… she'd been afraid that he'd try and make her do disgusting things that night in bed. But he had just rolled over on top of her, without so much as an "I love you…" and roughly spread her legs apart. As usual after seven years of marriage, she tried to be responsive and to show some sigh of arousal, but his coarse jabbing with his thick, hardened penis only disgusted her. She'd just lain there with her eyes closed, as he thrust into her, and she breathed a sigh of relief when, with a few heaving grunts, he emptied his semen into her. She could hardly wait for him to roll off her again, before she dashed into the bathroom to wash away the outward signs of their "lovemaking".

Sid broke into her painfully lingering thoughts with a curt good-bye and it was with a feeling of relief that she heard the door slam behind him.

***

Automatically, she began to clear away the breakfast dishes. A dull plodding resentment governed her actions. Used and humiliated… that's how she felt… a piece of property to be used and abused at Sid's whim. Being a good wife had always been her goal, and she kept the house immaculately clean and cooked good meals, and she knew that for her thirty-two years she had a good figure. She squeezed a sticky pool of dish detergent into the dishpan and began to tidy up the other rooms. But she felt no joy in her work, no reward… not even relief. This big beautiful house seemed like such a waste of space. And Sid was the one who'd insisted on having a study where he could tutor children in the summer inter-session to make few extra dollars to augment the meager salary he earned at the "Free School" where he taught pre-teens everything from gymnastics to French. And Sid was so ungrateful for her support and backing!

She couldn't help feeling that most of the fault of the trouble in their marriage lay on Sid's head. She had taxed her patience, skimping here and there on the household budget, remaking last year's fashions into this year's mania, taking in alteration and sewing jobs to bring in a few extra dollars. Nothing helped! Sid just didn't appreciate her efforts at conservation.

Her headache still throbbed above her eyes, so the housewife decided to treat herself to a long, hot bath and ease some of the tension in her taut, stressed body.

As the bath was filling to the brim, Sybil slipped off her breakfast robe and nightdress and scrutinized herself in the full-length mirror. On the whole, she was pleased with what she saw. Her tummy was a trifle rounded, but knew that it was not unattractive. "Titianesque…" as Sid called it. Apart from that small imperfection, she still had the figure she had that day, over eight years ago, when she'd met Sid at college and he had stared so rudely at her. Goodness! She was young then… so much had happened in those fifteen years. And not all for the best, either! she sighed, stepping into the tub.

She lay back, covering her shoulders with the calming hot water. The ends of her Raphealite strawberry-blonde curls floated for a moment and then sank into the water to straighten into slender strands of silk. A sigh of contentment broke from her chest as the warmth seeped into her pores, internally massaging her aching muscles and tight, tension-taut neck muscles.

As she lay there soaking, she reminisced on those lost fifteen years, remembering how at seventeen she'd been cheerful, vivacious, full of hope, self-promises… a far cry from the lonely, depressed person she was now. What had gone wrong? Again she asked herself the question that tormented her daily. Had she make a mistake in marrying Sid?

She knew the difference in their attitude and life style was overwhelming and now they didn't even have the same interests. Sybil, raised in a wealthy family in Memphis, Tennessee… daughter of a debutante and banker, had been blessed with everything a young girl could want: money, clothes, parties, her own car… Like the Dunlap girls, mused Sybil raising a steaming wash cloth to dab at her cheeks.

And Sid… idealistic Aquarian that he was, with no desire for material wealth sometimes even eliminating comfort. Education, learning… that's all he cared about. Oh, sometimes they went to movies together, but most nights he read and she watched television.

Tears blinded her eyes as she thought of the endless litany of unfulfilled nights… their frustrating sexual encounters… they were almost strangers to each other. In fact, she'd witnessed him with some of his students, and he showed more appreciation for their curiosities then he did for her cooking… more concern over their emotional whims than he showed over his wife's feminine needs.

Was it her fault, as Sid so darkly intimated? She knew that coming from a conventional, wealthy family she was a little inhibited. Strange that the very quality her mother had labeled "sophistication" should bring a barrage of expletives from her husband! "Up tight, bitch!" he'd called her one night when she couldn't do that disgusting thing in bed with him. But if Sid was so patient with the students, couldn't he try and help his wife, be patient with her and carry her out of the repression of a religion dominated way of life? But no…

Sid was too selfish, too caught up in his teaching and studies to take time and find out what his wife needed. Tears flowed down her face and all the misery of her unhappy existence unflowed from its pentup hiding place.

A memory came flickering back… a thought she tried to banish forever from her mind. An image of herself in Sid's apartment, under the surging poundings of her boy friend's penis! Wildly shaking her head, she tried to blot out the memory of her own premarital surrender, but her lewd words, screamed at the height of depraved passion, seemed to echo throughout the room.

"Fuck me… fuck me harder…"

She clasped her hands over her ears to shut out the lascivious memory. Where had she learned those words? She never used them, before that time or since, and felt a pang of distaste whenever she heard her husband use them.

Sanity returned to her troubled mind, and she lay back again, the tears drying on her cheeks. She felt cold and began to scoop up the soap bubbles. Idly, she smoothed them over her breasts, delighting in the way the frothy lather coated her creamy orbs. As she covered them with bubbles, she noticed how the nipples, a deep blush pink, stretched and awoke and the crinkled brown skin around them began to contract and squirm. She continued to massage them, enjoying the relaxing sensation, until the reddening buds jutted out boldly from the soap-covered mounds. A shiver raced through her and she sank further back in the suds. She began to soap herself, lifting one graceful leg and then the other, lathering it right up to her thigh. A tingle erupted deep in the pit of her stomach as her hand grazed the wet clinging curls of her pink triangle. She rested her palm momentarily on the glistening mound and a forbidden tingle shot through her. She felt her nipples stiffen again and involuntarily, her hand flew up the hungry orbs. The tingle in her stomach had grown to a jabbing fire and horror crept over her as she realized she was becoming sexually aroused.

But, almost of its own volition, her hand dropped lower and began to search gently in the swelling folds of her pulsating vagina. Her ringer brushed against the tiny erogenous knob of her clitoris and she gasped at the electrical shock of the unexpected contact. A twinge of guilt prodded at her conscience… memories of the childhood warning instilled in her that to touch oneself there was evil, dirty… but the incredible hunger, borne of years of frustration would brook no sidestepping, and she began to trace the hot, throbbing lips of her vagina, swollen to fleshiness, with her ringers. Her fingertips glided over the slippery flesh of her inner folds, and slid toward the clasping, viscous opening. Her breathing was ragged and a series of sensual visions tumbled about in her head and she felt swept along in the increasing erotic frenzy that she was conjuring up in her mind. She raised up her knees to afford her probing fingers greater access to her burning vagina and she began to thrust her finger into the moistness of her vaginal orifice. Her loins were hot, and her head was spinning with the strength of her overwhelming need. With a savage mewl, she sunk her finger into the inflamed opening. The warm fleshy walls closed in ravenously over her finger and a gnawing hunger told her that one finger wasn't enough.

Desperate now, she plunged two more of her fingers into the hot, moist opening and began to frantically swirl them around in her cavernous depths. Her other hand began to knead at her breasts and her nails dug deeply into the doughy fleshiness, trying to rout out the overwhelming fire that was raging in them. She was moaning incessantly now and her hips were jerking and twisting in time to the incessant probing of her fingers. The lewd rhythm of her undulance gained momentum until her whole lust-crazed body was thrashing wildly in the water, whipping up a new froth of bubbles and lashing the water out over the sides of the tub. The back of her head was totally submerged, and only her face was above water. Her hips rose up in paroxysm after paroxysm of delight and every muscle in her body was tensed, waiting for the final release.

Then Sybil's lithe, young body was convulsed with a gigantic spasm which seized her trembling loins and held them teetering dangerously over the edge before sending her shattering into the water, her luscious hips, flailing spasmodically like a fish on a hook as wave after wave of hot, screaming tremors raced throughout her entire body, crashing against the deep secret inner walls of her womb like the Pacific surf. For interminable seconds she was unable to breathe and her heart seemed to stop in the wake of her shattering climax, until finally she sank back, exhausted and satiated.

When the momentary pleasure of orgasm had passed, a feeling of mortification engulfed her. Fresh tears streamed down her face and rising up from the tub, now a thing of horror to her, her legs, weak from the daring surge of her passion, gave way and she collapsed on the carpeted bathroom floor, her body racked with guilty heartfelt sobs.

Then a sixth sense edged its way in as she lay face down on the blue fuzzy bath mat. Something was terrible wrong, and intuitively she knew it had something to do with Sid.

CHAPTER TWO

Sid's digital wristwatch flashed 9:04 when he pulled up outside the Dunlaps' sprawling Beverly Hills mansion, replete with a kidney-shaped swimming pool, tennis courts shaded with palm trees, and a guest house.

Today he would meet the girls, his two new students to whom he would teach French for two months before they left for Paris where they were enrolled in a private school for girls.

Unexpectedly, the door opened.

"Hi there!"

Sid Carter whirled around at the sound of the throaty voice, and gasped as she saw the beautiful girl standing not more than a foot from his startled face. At first glance, she appeared to be about fourteen, but as his eyes traced over the molded firmness of her breasts, pushing against the soft blue silk of her French blouse, Sid judged that she had to be closer to sixteen. Her long blue-black hair swept around her golden-tanned face splattered with a tease of freckles across her high cheek bones, one hip stuck out coltishly. She wore tight shorts, which revealed the enticing line of her upper thigh.

"Hello," he gulped, unable to take his eyes off her slim hips and perfectly shaped thighs.

"You must be Sid, our tutor?" she said rhetorically, extending her hand with cosmopolitan grace. "I'm June."

Sid clasped her well manicured hand in his, and was amazed at the coolness. It felt like she was wearing kid gloves, it was so soft.

"Won't you come in?"

He timidly followed June inside, feeling awkward and out of place as he stepped into the magnificent hallway of the sumptuously furnished house. June led him into the study, a room whose walls were lined with bookshelves, all filled in hard cover elegance. In the comer a globe sat in its walnut frame adjacent to the mahogany desk behind which a black leather chair sat emptily swiveled to one side. One whole wall was devoted to a geological map of Europe, and next to it, a window overlooked the swimming pool not more than a jump away. He gazed with interest at the map, then his eyes drifted to the collection of atlases on the bottom shelf near the desk. He was rather surprised at the wealth of knowledge and experience collected in that one room, so unlike the rest of the modern house… and so unlike garish Beverly Hills.

Instinctively, Sid felt that his tutoring job would change the direction of his career. Sure, teaching at the "Free School" had its rewards, meager as they were, and helping a ghetto child learn a new concept was exciting, but damn it! It was time he started getting some decent tutoring jobs… working for people with money, people who had contacts. He wouldn't mind having a classroom filled with Junes!

As he was waiting, musing over the map, his finger tracing imaginary trips he knew he'd never take, could never afford to take, June came back into the room.

"My sister's upstairs getting dressed. She's a late sleeper," June giggled, her hazel eyes twinkling as her wide smile showed off a row of pearl-white teeth and deep dimples crinkling her cheeks. She walked around the room, eyeing her tutor who stood stoically erect, his brief case under one arm while he stared, a bit absentmindedly and engrossed, in the map.

"Have you traveled much?" she queried, a maturity to her voice putting Sid on edge. Turning, he watched her stroll over to the window and open it, the material of her brief shorts slipping into the crevice of her rounded bottom as she bent over. Sid felt a rush of pleasure sweeping through him, his cock leaped in awareness and he could feel it growing along his leg. He felt an almost uncontrollable urge to reach out and knead the enticing cheeks of her buttocks in his hands but just then, she turned around. He was aware of June talking to him, though the words were meaningless, and he dumbly nodded his head, his eyes reluctantly leaving the tight moons of her creamy flesh.

"You like books, don't you?" she asked, knowing what the answer would be. Sid nodded. "Have a look at these…" She pointed to a special glass covered case where a startling number of leather-bound books with ribbon markers, all obviously expensive and rate collector's items, stared back at him. "These are Daddy's pride… all first editions… some of them are signed." June knelt down and opened the case. Sid remained standing and sucked his breath as the girl leaned forward to point out the titles. He could see directly down the top of her blouse, to where the butter-colored tops of her young breasts pushed up out of her lacy pink bra. He could almost feel their tender softness and the warmth of the secret valley cutting between them. His prick awakened again, this time more insistently and he felt sure that at any minute, she would look up and see the tell-tale bulge. Kneeling down put an extra strain on the already tight shorts and Sid could just barely see the outline of the fleshy folds of her pussy. A tiny wisp of black pubic hair curled around the tight leg band of her shorts and Sid's eyes were riveted on the escaping fleece. His eyes burned in his head and he could not release his gaze from between her thighs, as if in hope that his staring would strip away her protective clothing.

His own groin was maddeningly alive with sensation, and he began to feel the perspiration breaking out on his face. The muscles of his thighs felt like cruelly stretched rubber bands and his stomach was a churning knot of tension. His discomfort must have been mirrored in his face for June looked up at him and said solicitously, "Are you all right, Sid?"

Her bright green eyes flicked over his trembling form, and rested briefly and a trifle daringly on the tremendous bulge of his cock, before returning to his face.

"It's just… too much coffee, I guess…" he stuttered, feeling as inept as a schoolboy. "When do I meet your sister?" Sid tactfully changed the subject.

"Oh, May…? She's not feeling very well today. I'll go up and check on her… sorry to leave you alone down here again." Coltishly, she raced out of the study, and Sid could hear a muffled clump, clump as the lithe sixteen year old ran up the carpeted steps. In what seemed like seconds, June was down in the study, apologizing for her sister's absence.

"I'm sorry, but May isn't feeling too well…" June wrinkled up her nose and cupping her hand to her mouth, whispered throatily: "Just between you and me, I think she's hungover from last night…"

"Oh…?" Sid's eyebrows raised. "How old is May?"

"Three years younger than me. Well, almost. She'll be thirteen on May first, but everybody thinks she's my twin because we look so much alike. Some people go crazy trying to tell us apart. But look…" June stretched out one golden leg and with her hand squeezed the flesh to show off a rosy red mark. "See that? That's my birthmark." She giggled coquettishly.

That tempting, teasing curl of black pubic hair curled out again from the tight band of her shorts and Sid stared dry-mouthed at the birthmark, a red splotch that formed a perfect rose petal on her inner thigh. Far from being a blemish, it resembled a rose-petal tattoo.

"I'm really sorry you drove all the way over here for nothing," the teenager apologized with a tilt of her head. "But if you'd like, you could stay and have lunch with me and I'll show you about the grounds…"

Sid's eyes raked over the succulent teenage flesh for a final appraisal, then nodded his head in acquiescence. "That sounds lovely."

Gleefully, June bounced off down the hallway leaving Sid to make his own entertainment in the thought-provoking surroundings of the study. He settled down on the leather chair, hoping to silence his palpitating heart, and gather his thoughts together.

Guilt… guilt was creeping in like an indestructible army of red ants, and his nimble mind quickly combated that invasion by a slanderous appraisal of his wife's pruddishness. He knew he was hopelessly attracted to this young rich girl of sixteen.

His mind snapped back to his wife. "Frigid!" he thought, thinking of the contrast of his wife's apparent sensuality and the actual Victorianness of her nature. Image after image of her timid responses flicked through his brain, each session of lovemaking terminating in a cold, unfilled letdown for him.

Still, he had to admit he was still in love with his wife. He was still attracted to her creamy, ivory-like proportions, her Raphealite hair and her Titian physical maturity. She only had to look at him in a certain way from those shadowy green eyes and he was ready to make love to her on the spot. All the humiliation of his attempts to experiment with her would be forgotten if she would just loosen-up and make love to him completely. That had happened once, and that coincidentally, was the night he became engaged to her. But it hadn't happened since, and their love-making seemed to cool to one degree above freezing.

When reality came back to him, he was surprised to see June standing before him, a silver tray in her hands with an assortment of dainty, crustless sandwiches, and crab salads.

"Lottie – she's our housekeeper – had this ready for lunch. I hope you find it satisfying."

***

They were sipping their tea when Lottie, a middle-aged black woman collected the empty silver tray and disappeared through the heavy oak doors, winking to her teenage employer before closing the doors solidly behind her.

Nonchalantly, June sipped her tea, carefully observing her tutor, her eyes strangely narrowed to smoky slits. A sliver of afternoon sunlight shimmered through the window striking her blue-black hair at an oblique angle, the blue highlights of her hair disappearing into colorless streaks. In that sunlight bath she looked ethereally tempting, almost menacing.

Sid wondered just what was expected of him and he felt nervous, sitting so close to this strangely mature girl. Her heady perfume wafted over to him across the slender expanse of the leather sofa… an erotic scent that bespoke of worldly experience and sophistication. He couldn't keep his eyes off her legs where the shorts revealed all but the vee of her thighs. The superb line of her long legs tapered to a womanly expanse of thigh and the whole sweep from hip to ankle was exquisitely beautiful.

"I want to kiss you!"

Sid's mouth dropped open and remained there a second before he had the presence of mind to close it. He looked at June's face, but her expression was inscrutable, as if not a word had been said. For a moment, he thought he had imagined it, or perhaps he was still lost in the daydream of Sybil on that one occasion when she'd been open to his advances.

"Do you want to kiss me?"

Again he looked at the young girl's face and this time there was no doubt as to the origin of the statement. Her lips were slightly parted and glistened moistly. Her hand toyed gracefully with the curve of her well-rounded hip.

Before he could speak, he felt her warm hand on his arm, and the teenage girl pulled him gently over to her. His first impulse was to draw back, but her hand was still clasped possessively on his arm and her face lay invitingly close to his. There seemed to be a magnet drawing his bead down to her's and a shot of exquisite pleasure darted through him as his lips touched hers. Her firm, yet plaint flesh seemed to burn into his and he felt he could go on kissing her like this indefinitely. His tongue slipped out and pressing against the unresisting barricade of her teeth, gained entrance to her soft, sensuous mouth. Her tongue rose expertly to meet his and performed a sort of lewd ecstatic dance, teasing and touching his own eager organ. He dabbed at her throat, feeling the ridged roof of her mouth, the sharp indentations of her teeth, and pushed at the back of her throat. Still she sought to swallow more and more of the feverishly drubbing tongue. Sid felt the buttons of his shirt being opened and then a cool hand was resting on his chest, playing with the dark curly hair. Shivers coursed up and down his back and he almost leapt up off the sofa in a convulsing reaction to the electrifying shock of her touch. Her tongue withdrew from his sucking mouth and tailed a path of burning fire along his face. Slowly she inched closer to him and Sid could feel her large, firm breasts pressing hotly against his arm. His prick was palpitating wildly in his pants and his balls began to ache from the pressure of his churning sperm.

Suddenly, her hand reached out and she touched the throbbing bulge. That's when he balked. "June… don't you think this is a little… ah… improper…?" Without hearing her answer, his blood-swollen prick leapt to even more agonizing life, burning like a firebrand against his leg. Her hand never stopped gently massaging his tormented penis while her darting tongue snaked wetly down, over his throat and among the crisp hairs on his chest.

As if with a will of his own, Sid's hand reached up and found her soft, pulsing breasts. "Are you sure?"

"Urn… hum…" Obviously, June had no doubts.

With that reassurance, he worked at the buttons of her pink silk blouse which fell willingly from her tanned shoulders, revealing her pink bra which gleamed against the golden glow of her skin. Her heaving breasts swelled up provocatively from the lacy cups, and Sid felt the moistness of his semen as it seeped impatiently from his engorged penis, egged on by her relentless ministrations. Boldly, he unclasped her bra and drew in his breath at the tempting sight of her firm young breasts, sweeping upward to her nipples, jutting out from the pinkish aureoles.

His fingers reached out and began to tweak the already rigid buds, rolling them between his fingers, gently pulling on the tender tips, eliciting gasps of pleasure from June's throat. As he felt the turgid nipples responding to his urging and with his cock jerking almost out of control, the full impact of what he was doing struck Sid with the force of a sledgehammer. He was going to cheat on his wife… he was going to fuck this teenage nymph!

Guilt rose speedily through him as he remembered all the fantasies he'd had… how he dreamt about fucking some other woman, taking a mistress, but he knew they were just dreams. No harm in dreams.

But the teasing stroking that this gorgeous half-naked teenager was giving his bursting cock drove all such thoughts from his head. Now he had to have this child-woman… there was no turning back! He closed his mouth once more over the delicious firmness of her breasts and he realized that she was quivering beneath him and that her breathing was heavier.

Then his fingers started on her shorts, easing them down over her hips, his eyes straining for a glimpse of her pubic mound between her legs. She raised herself up from the sofa, helping to free herself from the restraining garment and his eyes fell on her tiny bikini panties where he could see the black curls of her palpitating pussy mound twisting out from under the legbands.

As she lay there on the crinkling leather sofa, her butter color skin shimmering in the sunlight, Sid cast a surreptitious glance around him. There was not another human being in sight and the doors were solidly locked. Good…

June lay stretched out invitingly beneath him, her eyes half-closed, the sun peeking through the window casting strange patterns on her body, dancing through the window. He reached out and tenderly began to draw her flimsy panty's down over her satiny hips, gasping when the full vee of her silken black pubic hair came into view, and he began to imagine the moist entrance of her vaginal opening gleaming through the dark curls waiting for his touch. He ran his hands through along the inside of her fleshy thighs, his fingertips feeling the faint film of moisture which coated her slender limbs. He could feel the inner muscles of her thigh flex against the manly touch and he could sense the shivers of pleasure which raced up and down the full length of her unbelievably exciting body. Her tongue flicked out to moisten her parched lips and her breath was a shallow rattle in her throat. His middle finger moved up the silky flesh until he could feel the crinkly pubic hair brushing against the back of his hand. He could see the pink flanges of her softly pulsing vagina contracting and a few droplets of her lubricating juices wet his hand as he grazed it. Softly, June began to moan… low sighs of passion which made Sid realize that she was more than ready for lovemaking.