Daddy's hot twins

CHAPTER FOUR

A few months later their Uncle Don left. The girls were sad, even though it didn't end their explorations. They went right on conquering sexual worlds anyway. First there were a few boys at school, but for them, boys quickly became boring. The age, experience, and maturity of their uncle and his sex methods had spoiled them.

They shifted their attentions to more mature men. Then they included older women. By the time the girls were seventeen, there was nothing about the bedroom arts that the girls hadn't experienced and still they wanted more.

It was only natural that the girls' escapades would eventually reach their mother's ears. The rising rift between the twins and their mother grew wider and wider until none of them could stand it any longer. They truly began to hate each other.

The twins finally insisted, upon their graduation, that they be allowed to fend for themselves and live on their own. The mother agreed, but flatly told them that it would be without her money.

That was when the girls appealed to their Uncle Don. He had also grown to loathe his sanctimonious sister, so he readily agreed to help his two nieces. Don had several contacts in the publishing and fashion fields. It was easy for him to find highly paid modeling work for two such beauties as Candy and Cindy. With their beautiful bodies it was only natural that they would soon graduate to the far more lucrative field of nude modeling.

They were immediately successful. They weren't able to live as they had when they had the backing of their mother's huge fortune but they were at least able to live as they liked and fuck all they wanted to whenever they wanted.

Then, as if all the bitterness, the hate, and the sour bile in their mother's body and mind were more than the human body could stand, the mother went to her reward. And she did so still cursing her daughters and their evil ways.

Her will, the girls learned to their surprise, was merely an extension of her attitudes toward them. They were not to receive a penny of the old lady's money until they were nineteen years of age.

That was the first stipulation, and not too strange.

The second was different. If they weren't married, and pregnant, and settled down by that time, all the money was to go to charity.

Since the girls had been able to survive so far on their own, they paid little heed to the will. They both agreed that having such a great sum of money would be nice, but not nice enough to marry and give up their freedom for it.

It was two weeks to the day of their nineteenth birthday when their father made his phone call and summoned them, at his expense, to Europe.

It was all mysterious and all very exciting.

"I am Gorn Plato, your father's man."

Both girls had the same identical thought at exactly the same time: our father has a man… a valet? He must have hit it big after all.

"You are both very beautiful young ladies," Gorn Plato continued. "I will take your bags. The bar pulls out from the back seat. Please make yourself comfortable. The drive to the castle will take about four hours."

The girls exchanged fearful looks and slid into the well-appointed back seat of the huge Mercedes limousine.

The huge chauffeur, if that was indeed his job, put their bags in the boot and crossed around the car to the driver's side. His shoulders barely made their way through the door and his shaved head almost touched the roof of the car, as it slid smoothly and silently away from the curb.

The highway out of Zurich was wide for several miles and then narrowed as they climbed into the mountains.

The twins availed themselves of the bar and set back to survey some of the most beautiful scenery in the world. Green forest rose to lofty, snow-capped alps that soared far above.

They sipped their drinks and exchanged furtive glances. It had all happened so fast, within forty-eight hours of the phone call, that neither of them could be sure that it was happening at all.

After unceremoniously dressing the unsuspecting Les and kicking him out of the apartment, Cindy had built a drink for her sister, set her down, and related the gist of the phone call.

"It was weird," Cindy said. "I answered and this operator asks who I am. I tell her and then she says, 'One minute for overseas… Count Zachery.' I figured he's just another weirdo who saw some of our pictures and somehow got our number, ya know? I mean it's been so long that I didn't put the name together. Especially not when it was tied to the title, 'Count'."

"All right… all right," Candy said. "Skip the bullshit and get on with it. I'm dying of curiosity!"

"Okay," Cindy continued. "This dude comes on the horn and says, 'Cindy, this is your father,' I about shit and told him so. He laughed, then comes right back with a lot of little details about Mom, the schools we went to, the source of our money from the trust, everything. He even expressed condolences, a little tongue-in-cheek I think, about more and told me he knew all about the will."

"But how could he know all that?" Candy asked.

"He couldn't," Cindy replied, "unless he was who he says he was… or is. Then he says he wants us to visit him in Zacheist."

"Where's that?"

"In Switzerland."

"I can't go," Candy said.

"Why?"

"I'm afraid of heights," she giggled.

The following morning a messenger delivered two Swiss-Air tickets and two trunks of clothes, their exact size, to the apartment. After looking at the expensive labels on the clothes and realizing that the tickets were for real, the girls decided not to fight it; father or no, whoever he was he wasn't cheap.

Since Candy and Cindy had been modeling, several well-heeled gentlemen had seen fit to entertain them in exotic places. The girls, always game for a good time, had rarely declined the offers. And never had they been disappointed in the good times, the sex, or the places they had visited.

But never had the offer been extended so strongly, strangely and accompanied by thousands of dollars in wardrobe.

That same evening they boarded the plane with some nervousness but a great deal of curiosity.

And now they were in the back seat of a very expensive auto, in a foreign country, studying the back of their father's servant's bull neck.

"Did you ever see anybody so big?" Candy whispered.

"I wonder if he's that big all over," Cindy replied, and giggled.

"Ouch," Candy said.

"How many people live in Zacheist?" Cindy asked, leaning forward toward Gorn Plato.

"About six hundred people are dependent upon your father for their welfare," he replied.

"I don't understand," Candy said.

"We, in Zacheist, have not progressed at all beyond feudal times. The lord of the castle in Zacheist is still lord of the land and its people. The people depend upon the land. The land must have a ruler."

"But that's not what I asked," Cindy said, becoming somewhat angered by his abrupt manner and his enigmatic answer.

"Your father will explain," he replied, and before either of the girls could ask any more questions, the glass dividing driver from passengers rose into place, neatly separating the car into two sealed compartments.

"Cindy," Candy asked, "are you scared?"

"A little… but, what the hell, we wanted kicks and adventure."

Candy nodded in agreement but poured herself another stiff drink for fortification.

Both girls had been lulled to sleep by the drink and the gently rocking motion of the big car. They awoke when Gorn Plato's huge, ham-like hand jostled both their shoulders.

Both girls groggily looked around outside the car, rubbing the sleep from their eyes.

"We are in Aflando, a small village at the foot of the mountain," Gorn said. "There is a bad storm between here and Zacheist. We will have to stay at this inn for the night."

Sleepily, the girls were led to their respective rooms by a fat little hausfrau who spoke very broken English.

"But can't we share the same room?" Candy asked, her earlier fear urging her to be close to her sister.

"I'm afraid the rooms are too small," Gorn said, depositing her luggage, and retaining Cindy's. "Follow me," he told Cindy and walked out of the room and down the hall.

Cindy looked at her sister, shrugged and went out the door.

Candy undressed and soaked for over an hour in the old-fashioned tub. Still dripping, she wrapped a towel around herself and re-entered the bedroom.

"What the…?"

Gorn Plato was standing by the bed. He had discarded his coat and his arms were like two rippling steel posts in the short-sleeved white shirt he wore.

"Would you like a massage after your bath?" he asked.

"A… massage… you… mean from you?" Candy asked.

"It is customary."

I'm in Europe, Candy said to herself. I've got to remember I'm in Europe now, things are different over here. When in, do as!

"I… ah… I guess it's all right," she stammered.

Gorn motioned toward the bed. "I think you'll find it very relaxing," he said, a slight smile, the first Candy had seen from him, trailing around the corners of his mouth.

Candy moved to the bed and managed to slide in on her tummy, keeping her vital, frontal parts covered from his eyes. She lay with her arms folded beneath her head.

Then she realized that it made little difference. The giant unceremoniously lifted the towel from her buttocks and she could feel the cool breath of the room and his hot eyes on her gleaming spheres of white flesh.

Be cool, she told herself, be cool.

But she couldn't help squeezing her thighs slightly tighter together and hiding the dark thatch of pubic hair they shielded.

She nearly jumped off the bed when warm oil was poured over her back, across her asscheeks, and down onto the soft skin of her inner thighs. "Jesus… what's that?"

"Oil," he said, his deep baritone voice seeming like a bellow in the quiet room. "Oil from the earth for the skin and for the passion. Just relax, Miss, you'll soon be feeling all the tension in your body drift away."

And he was right; the tension in her body did seem to just float away as his expert hands started at her shoulder on one side, worked all the way down to her toes, and then back up the other side.

But the tension became something else – passion.

His kneading hands seemed to know just where to gently touch her body to start the flow of juices in her pussy. Almost against her will she felt her legs starting to spread.

His hands kept up their deft work on her back and then down to her thighs. She jumped again when his hand found the inside of her fleshy thighs dangerously close to her pubic hair. The tips of his fingers also seemed to flick toward her asshole as he worked up and over the mounds of her jiggling asscheeks.

She knew her body was twitching and she knew that he knew it, even though his face remained an immobile mask.

"Turn over, please," he said, very calmly.

By that time she had no objections. She would probably have done anything he wanted her to do. His hands knew exactly how to turn a woman on and they had done their job well on Candy.

She flipped over and felt her fleshy asscheeks go flop on the mattress. Her breasts were pointing directly at his face but his control was amazing. It was as if he didn't even see them. Looking down, between her jiggling, pink-tipped globes, she could see her pubic mound, already glistening with the juices from her pussy.

His hands moved across her shoulders and down into her armpits. Again it was one of Candy's more sensitive areas and her legs responded by moving apart.

God, she thought, her eyes closed, if he touches my tits, I'll explode.

Then he was leaning over her, his hands on her stomach. Candy didn't realize any significance in the move until she felt his rock-hard cock press against the top of her head.

I am affecting him, she thought. For a moment she thought it might not be possible to arouse him. It was as if he were some sort of eunuch out of the Arabian nights. But now, with his rigid tool standing straight up in the tight pants, she knew she had gotten to him. She hoped he would get to her.

"Are you relaxing?" he said.

"Here and there," Candy replied.

Then he was at her side. The swell of his cock, through the material of his pants, was pressed against the back of her hand. She squirmed a little as his hands worked along her belly just above the thumping triangle of her seeping cunt.

She tried to keep thoughts of lust out of her mind. After all, she reasoned, this man was her father's servant – if the man she and her sister were to meet the next day was indeed her father.

The fingers roamed softly and smoothly over her rippling, now lightly undulating hips, making them bounce from the sensation of his hot, roaming hands.

His cock, against the back of her hand, was throbbing a little more now and straightening out. He looked down at her, watching her eyes to see if there was any reaction.

Candy couldn't hide it. There was a lot of reaction.

Suddenly, without warning, he slid his hot, burning, oily hand up between her legs until his probing fingers found the pulpy, sweet lips of her pussy. Then he shoved two of his thick, hard fingers up between the lips of her cunt.

Candy's legs flew clear apart and she hunched her cunt up over the fingers. She moaned out the bliss of her feelings and he pressed harder with his digits into her cuntal flesh.

"Oh shit… oh, oh, oh," Candy groaned as his fingers found their mark.

She could take the teasing no longer. She tore and ripped at his fly until she had it open. She plunged her hand inside his pants. He wore no underwear. She found his cock at once and brought it out into the open.

"Oh my God," she cried. "It is as big as you are. Beautiful."

He said nothing but added a third finger to the two already in her pussy and then started finger-fucking her even harder.

His big cock was pulsing and jumping in her hands. She took his jerking male meat between both her hands and slowly slid the sensitive foreskin back and forth over the bulbous head with awe.

With his free hand he continued to rub the soothing oil into her hot, passion-ridden body, helping it become even more so with every touch.

Candy's entire body was now tingling and shaking with desire for what she held in her hands.

She looked up at him with pleasure and satisfaction on her face and took a firmer hold on his huge, rock-hard tool. She teased and tickled the hot, rubbery head and watched as a droplet of white cum oozed from the tip.

He thrust his hand further up into her cunt and moved his fingers around and around the inner walls of her hole.

She moaned loudly and her whole body shook and jerked as she felt the pleasure of his hand sliding back and forth in her hole and against her hardened clit.

She bent her head slowly around and almost without knowing it took his jerking cock into her moist mouth and started sucking the head of it.

The rich, masculine odor that rose from his prick and the balls between her fingers filled her nostrils and excited her whole body. She trembled and shook a bit from the ecstasy and excitement she felt as her head spun slightly around from the smell of his hot, moving body.

Her loving, moist lips slid further down onto his cock an inch at a time as the bittersweet taste of his masculine cum filled her mouth just as the odor had already filled her nostrils.

Gorn Plato bucked his huge cock to her, and shoved it further into her anxiously waiting, mouth.

"Do you want relief?" he said.

She took her mouth from his cock and looked up at him in awe and wonder. Jesus, she thought, what is he, a robot? "If relief means do I want this," she said squeezing the wrist-thick staff of his prick, "then you're damn right I want it."

He pulled her over to him and then he leaned half way down to her.

First he started kissing and teasing her lips, then he became wilder and wilder until he had his fingers on the smooth, firm nipples of her tits. She squirmed and grunted under his touch.

The more he played with her tits, the harder she squeezed the hard, thick tool that jumped and pulsed in her hand.

Then, without warning, he was on top of her and she was bucking and thrashing wildly beneath him.

"You are a beautiful woman," he said, tenderly, "and very hot-blooded."

She looked up at his almost ugly face and his shaved head and suddenly realized how sexually attractive he was. "Fuck me," she said. "Hurry, put that big joystick of yours in my cunthole and fuck me!"

Deftly his hands worked until his pants were down around his knees. Then she felt his prick between her thighs. The huge head was bouncing from leg to leg, moving steadily upward to her seething, cock-hungry pussy.

"I want it," Candy groaned. "Oh shit, how I want it."

And her next thought was, Can I take it?

She soon found out that his fingers and the massage had done the job of preparing her only too well. She was more than ready to accept the full brunt of his enormous cock in her lust-swollen cunt hole.

Gore Plato pumped his body up and down on top of her, wildly dry-fucking her.

Finally he raised his cock a little higher than before. As he shoved his muscular thighs down to meet hers on the next plunge, his big, throbbing cock thrust itself into the hot, steaming lips of her waiting pussy.

"Yes… oh shit," she cried.

He pounded wildly and furiously into her hot, bucking cunt. Her panting and moaning became louder and louder as the pressure of his thrusts increased and became more rapid.

He was moaning and panting too, a little lower and softer than Candy, but just as passionately. The steady pounding of their flesh as their two hot bodies slid back and forth against each other filled the bedroom with the sounds of sex.

The pounding of their pent-up desires was pressing forcefully on their bodies and minds. Candy could hear the ringing of a mighty cascade of bells somewhere deep inside her as he thrust and pounded his huge hard cock again and again, deeper and deeper into the hot twitching folds of her juicing cunt.

His deep, growling sighs and loud passionate moans were the only things she could hear. They mixed with her own excited grunts and whines of pleasure and passion.

Suddenly they both began to shake violently.

"I'm there," Candy cried. "I'm going to come… oh shit, how I'm going to come!"

Their bodies broke out in a cold, clinging sweat as the hot, exciting sound of flesh pounded against flesh.

Candy bucked her hips frantically now and thrust her head back onto the bed as far as she could shove it to give her more leverage to thrust up her cunt to meet the charge of his cock.

The passionate and frenzied pair lunged their bodies against each other again and again, wildly, lustfully, with all the force and thrust they could find.

With the greatest of all thrusts of his cock and the forceful return of her quivering cunt, the two of them came at the absolute same time.

He slipped from the bed. Candy, dreamily, through half-closed eyes, watched as he gathered his clothing back in shape and started for the door.

"Gorn?" Candy said, her throat clogged with left-over lust.

"Yes, Miss?" he said, from the door.

"I'll bet my sister, Cindy, would love a massage, and probably relief, too!"

"Yes, Miss."

Cindy was groggy with the steam from the enclosed bath. She barely managed to make it back to her bed before sleep overcame her.

She must have dozed off and then slowly came back to reality. The next thing she knew, smooth fingers worked at rubbing warm oil all over her body.

It felt wonderful, and it felt exciting.

But it was probably the old hausfrau, Cindy thought, part of the inn's service to their wealthier guests.

But the hands were tickling the crease of her ass and the lips of her pussy.

Strange, she thought, but it did feel good, so good.

And then the hands turned her over and dangling just above her face was the biggest, hardest cock she had ever seen in her life. And beyond the bobbing, dripping head of the cock was the almost smiling face of the giant, Gorn Plato.

"Your sister," he said, "thought you might like relief."