Matt Daniels
Honeymoon Orgy
Chapter 1
The sun was a shimmering ball midway in the western sky. It was getting near lunch time and Jonelle Davis felt hungry, yet another gnawing was stronger. She was wet in the crotch of her panties!
The warmth felt good to her on this stretch of lonely beach. Jo sighed and began to unbutton her shirt. She dropped her shirt to the sand and slipped out of her jeans. She hesitated a moment before taking off her panties. They were the only undergarments she fooled with. Her tits were firm, and she really didn't need a bra.
Jo raised her hands, felt her breasts, rubbing until her nipples were warm and stood up against her palms. She was pleased she had such nice breasts; men seemed to go apeshit over girls with big boobs, and she sure wanted a man!
Her thumbs hooked into the waistband of her panties. She looked around. Prying eyes couldn't disturb her here. From the causeway and road, her haven was almost invisible. She could see down, but the rocks and brush prevented anyone from seeing up. And unless she ran into a voyeuristic seagull, she could be assured of privacy. Smiling, Jo took off her panties, laid them with the rest of her clothes, and stretched out on her blanket in the sun.
She liked being naked, especially in the summertime, under a hot sun. She could smell the ocean. Its salty tang reminded her of her own sweet twat; a man with his face buried in there. Jo groaned aloud. She was trying her goddamnedest not to think about men.
She cupped her breasts, squeezed. The firm tits, capped in tiny brown nipples that were always erect, felt good to her. She knew it was wrong to feel this way, but what the hell. Could she help it? Could the sky help being blue?
Jo began to writhe on the blanket. Her body flamed with lust, the sudden hot passion of her starved libido, and every time she brought her thighs together a pulsating heat shivered inside her pussy. She bit her lower lip, moaned, then sent one hand ranging downward, fingers extended like scouts riding point for the wagon train, ready to mull through the floss of her dark pubic hair and toy with the sweet juicy slice lurking under the tangle of curls.
It was her slice. She could play with it whenever she wanted. And her fingers. The only ones, it appeared, she could trust. Why was her life such a pit, anyway? She knew women who seemed to adapt to anything, any situation, but here she was, staying with her brother and his wife, and she couldn't cope with it. Every time she was in the house at night and heard the sounds of her brother fucking his wife, she wanted to burst in on them and join in… her own brother. She even wanted to take on her sister-in-law, too.
Ahhhhhhh!!!!!
She wanted to scream it aloud, but the surroundings were so placid and quiet, the sea lapping in upon the shore, the soft flutter of gulls overhead, that she didn't dare shout her joy for fear of disturbing the natural harmonies. But she was screaming inside herself, screaming madly, passionately, in shrill excited tones. Her entire body shivered with that mental scream and she could feel marrow melting in her bones.