Mary begs. On a 7-9, she wants to see you eat Taylor.

Your eyes drift over to Mary Forbes' fridge. Stuck up in magnetic frames are pictures of her girls -- in high school graduation cap and gown, and later in college sweatshirts. There's also one of the "Love Is" cartoons by Kim. In it, the artist's signature naked, freckled kewpie-doll girl is striding toward the viewer with her eyes closed, listening to a telephone, captioned "Love is... ...having his voice in your ear."

Mary squeezes Taylor's hand. "Hon," she says. "I guess we should move things along."

Taylor laughs. "Guess so," your sister replies.

"Where do you want me?" you ask.

Mary looks up at you, a little bashful. "Well, Tom, I've never had an audience before. Well, almost never." Mary looks at Taylor, then back to you. "I have a sewing chair in the bedroom, let's put you there." Mary smiles. "Can I see one thing first?"

Taylor's been talking up your cock, you're sure. You feel a rush of warmth and your trousers tighten in front.

Mary continues. "Taylor told me you two had gotten together."

You look at Taylor. Taylor looks at you. You both nod at her.

Mary tells you, "Tom, I want to see you get her started."

Taylor's eyes narrow with a knowing look. This must be the special favor Taylor was hinting at. She shrugs and laughs. "Hey, I'm game. Tom?"

You smile. "Is that what you meant by pie, Mary?" You look at Taylor. "Tay, you really wanna?"

"Yeah," your sister says. She grins and nods. "Yeah."

"Lead on," you say.

Mary leads you to the master bedroom. The double-wide mobile home has enough room for a bathroom, three bedrooms, a kitchen and a front room, but little else. The bed is turned down, with fresh sheets. Above the headboard is an embroidered blessing saying This is my command: Love one another. -- John 15:17, and a framed piece of calligraphy saying A perfect marriage is just two imperfect people who refuse to give up on each other.

Somehow it's different looking at Taylor in front of Mary. You smile at each other, a little hesitant. Then Taylor's pretty face, beautiful curves and open arms do their work. You sweep her into a hug and kiss her -- kissing your sister, ha! -- tasting the cinnamon from the Atomic Truckstop's apple pie. She kisses back harder.

You hear Mary catch her breath, watching the two of you together. "Ohhh," she sighs.

Taylor kicks off her shoes, zips herself out of her uniform skirt, and starts working on her blouse. You slide off her panties and are welcomed by the warmth of her belly, bush, and cunt. Taylor seems worked up at the prospect of showing off for Mary before Mary shows off for you. By the time she tugs off her bra, you see her nipples are pink and swollen.

"Oh, Tom, now!" she says, and falls back onto the bed.

You've still got your pants on, so you start where you are, diving between Taylor's legs to taste her salty sweetness. The first taste has a little tang of pee that disappears with your second lick. And then it's salt and slipperiness and musky sweetness.

"Oh Tom, oh Tom," Taylor says. "Oh yes."

You hear the slither of fabric as Mary takes off her church dress.

"Oh Tom, take it off now," Taylor says.

You slide off the bed and stand up, fumbling with your belt. Finally you get your pants open and stick your thumbs inside your underwear, yanking it all down at once. Your cock springs up, long, hard, and ready.

"Oh my God," Mary says. "Tom."

"Didn't I tell you, didn't I tell you?" Taylor says.

Before you know it, a naked Mary Forbes is on her knees, her wet, open lips seeking the head of your cock, her heavy breasts swinging freely under the little 'v' of her collarbone.