"My own brother trying to put the make on me. Boy, he must really be getting horny." But then she turned and caught her reflection in the mirror behind the bottles. Her light complexion was flushed from the excitement, her nostrils flared. Her black hair fell sexily over her shoulders and a smoldering, female aroma seemed to surround her. Her painted nails ticked on the glass she held. "Poor Howell. I guess I do look pretty inviting. Even to my own brother."

That night she lay in her bed, unable to relax completely. She'd even sneaked the bottle upstairs with her to get a little help. She'd been feeling very confused about some things. Very confused. Like the shivery feeling she still got just thinking about her brother's cock touching her bottom like that. She knew it was perverse to dwell on such things but she couldn't help but try and imagine what it looked like back there as it pressed into the white meat of her right buttock.

"Damn," Abby swore, sitting up in bed to reach the scotch from the table. She poured some over her melting ice cube and swished it around in the glass. She could see by the moonlight that flooded across her rug. She had her balcony doors open and a light breeze stirred the curtains. She sat with her knees pulled up and sipped the scotch. Between her thighs, her pussy seemed to glow like a fire banked for the night. Every movement, however slight, set off new embers that sent tingles up and down her skin.

"Oh hell, I've already fingerfucked once tonight and it didn't seem to do any good." She sipped more scotch and tried to think of something like sailboats or cooking. Her cunt seeped sex juice onto the back of her filmy gown. Maybe she could find something to stick up her. Maybe that would ease the tension. Something shaped like Perry's cock. No, she didn't even want to think of that dumb, dull Perry anymore. And yet that was the only cock she could picture. Besides her brother's thick penis. She'd seen that once when he'd been drunk and skinned his shorts at the pool.