"Fuck me, fuck me!" she gasped, bucking harder and riding closer and closer still. The bed shook under her, and her breath was racked with sobbing moans of anticipation.
It was precisely at that moment that her head flopped to the right and, through eyes that swain and fuzzed out-of-focus, she became suddenly aware that her Uncle Steven was standing in the doorway of her bedroom, watching her frig the hell out of her dripping cunt.
CHAPTER THREE
"I knew you weren't permanent," Cathy said, running her fingers through Samantha Shepherd's hair. "To you, I was just a substitute for something or someone. I thought at first it was your husband, but I know now that I was wrong. And now he's come back into your life. Right?"
"It's so sick," Sammi whispered. "But it's been this way since we were babies. We were always closer than anyone else, and the whole sex thing seems so natural a development. Probably because we were twins, but maybe there's something more to it. Maybe Steven and I are really just one person who happened to be born as two, and we have to keep putting ourselves back together. Do you hate me?"
Cathy shook her head. "No, I don't hate you. Let me show you how much I don't hate you."
She bowed her head and kissed Sammi firmly, on the lips. Samantha's arm enfolded Cathy's neck, pulled her closer. Their tongues dribbled back and forth. Cathy's fingers reached down to undo the buttons of Samantha's blouse. Pulling it open, she placed her hands on the full round tits, covered only by a silk chemise. Her palms molded to the firm, but yielding flesh and felt the stiffness of her nipples popping up. Her salivary glands went into overtime. If it was her last suck on Samantha's tits, she was eager to have them in her mouth.
They had been lovers for almost a year, ever since Sammi had sold this bungalow to Cathy, through the Realty Company she worked for.