Patty stared at her Uncle Tom's growing hard-on and knew what she could do to make him happy. She unzipped his pants and gently released his cock ... running her hands over ,every-inch of his manhood ... squeezing the sensitive head ... teasing his balls with the tip of her fingernails ... feeling him pump his hips in rhythm to her strokes.
Whenever there were family reunions, this swinging family always made sure they were united-in every sexual position possible!
CHAPTER ONE
Tom Kellerman could believe neither his eyes nor his ears. He stood in the darkened living room staring bug-eyed and breathless at the scene that was taking place on his wife's big double bed. What he saw was a tall, dark haired, skinny, naked boy half standing, half lying between the widely splayed thighs of a slender, blonde, equally naked girl.
They were fucking.
They were fucking as though possessed by a thousand devils of lust. Fucking as though their very lives depended upon it.
Tom could tell the girl was blonde, because he could see her long, silky, tangled hair spread out on the pillow on either side of the boy's head, which was obscuring her face. He suspected that the girl was his teenage daughter, Catherine, Cathy, but he couldn't be sure-couldn't believe it.
The boy's hair was almost as long as the girl's, al most jet black, and as far as Tom was concerned, he had never seen the young man in his life.
Tom closed his eyes tightly, and shook his head as if to clear it. When he opened his eyes again the scene had not changed. The boy was standing on his toes, his narrow, muscular, hairy ass pointed at the wide open door. He was crouched at the knees, lying lightly braced on his elbows; driving, hammering, pounding an endlessly long, thick, ropey-veined cock into the pink, schlurpy wetness of the girl's tiny, stretched to bursting cunt. His heavy, ping-pong ball-sized nuts swung in their thick, wrinkled sack, bouncing off her wildly gyrating ass on every violently rhythmical instroke.
The stereo, sitting on a table in the far comer of the living room, was blasting. The song on the turntable was "What's Going On?" by Marvin Gaye, and it echoed perfectly Tom's shocked, confused, jumbled senses. His mind screamed silently along with Marvin Gaye, "What's going on? What's going on? What's going on?"
The girl's voice soared in a high, soprano wail above the ear-splitting volume of the stereo: "OOOOOHHH!-OOOOHHHH!-OOOOOHHH!F-F-FUCK MEEE, B-BIG BROTHERRRRR!D AR-DARLINNNGG-OOOOHHHH!-GREGGREG-GREG-GREG-OR-YYYYY! YOU FUCK S-SSS-SOOOO GOOOOD!-I'VE B-BEEN FFUCKED HUNDREDS of T-TIMES, BUT NEVNEVER L-LIKE THISSS! OOHHH! OOOHHHHH! K-KILL ME WITH YOUR BIG, SWEET COCK, GREG-OR-YYYYYYY! F-F-FUCK MEEE TOOOO DEATH!"
Tom's heart skipped several beats. Exploding beads of cold Sweat popped out on his forehead, and ran icily, itchily down his beet red face. The girl was indeed his teenage daughter, Cathy! The boy was Gregory, his son! Gregory, whom he hadn't seen since they had both left Caimbert, Illinois, over three years earlier. Gregory, who was supposed to be just passing through on his way to join the Peace Corps, and spend the" next three years in Africa. Gregory, whom he had traveled almost 3,000 miles, all the way from California to see just one more time!
Tom was sick with outrage, shock, disgust, and fascination. He was torn by so many different, confusing, conflicting emotions that he felt he was about to explode into a million pieces. He felt faint, he wanted to scream, he wanted to run to the stereo and throw it through the huge picture window, he wanted to dash into the bedroom, grab Greg by the scruff of the neck, and beat the boy to within an inch of his life.
He did none of these things. He stood rooted to the spot just inside the front door, still holding his suitcase in his hand, breathing as though he had run five miles, staring at the wildly fucking teenagers as though he were hypnotized.
For as far back as Tom could remember, he had been a hopeless, helpless voyeur. Nothing excited him more than to watch other people fuck. As a small child he had actually bored a tiny hole in his parents' bedroom wall in the rambling old house they had lived in, and watched them fuck almost nightly. Now, as an adult, he still couldn't pass a lighted window at night without peering closely to see if he might catch a glimpse of a woman disrobing, or a couple making love.
Never, never in all his life, though, had he ever witnessed a scene as electrifyingly exciting as the one that was now being played before his bulging eyes on the king-sized bed that he had shared for so many years with Linda, his ex-wife, Greg and Cathy's mother. It was a horizontal sexual ballet being danced to low-down, funky soul music. The sight was eeriely, starkly, mind-blowingly beautiful. Greg's enormous cock arrowed into his little sister's clinging, juicy cunt with a swiveling, jogging, erratic cadence that made the thick dagger of solid flesh appear to be doing figure 8's.
Cathy's long, slender legs were constantly moving, spread to the winds one moment, then clamped around her brother's back; hooked over his shoulders the next moment, then raised higher, wider, and farther back over her own head. Her arms circled his neck, his waist. Her fingers caressed his wide, muscular shoulders, slid up and down his sweat-glistening back, clawed convulsively into his asscheeks.
Tom had witnessed this scene more times than he could remember, and no matter how many times he was allowed to indulge this particular fancy, the prick-hardening excitement never diminished. He couldn't understand what there was about Greg and Cathy's fucking before his eyes that was so different, so much more exciting, almost causing him to shoot off in his pants. Then it came to him that before he had always seen adult men fucking adult women, and no matter how big the cocks were, the cunts were long, deep, and wide enough to accommodate them, and then some. Now, he half expected to hear Cathy scream in pain and terror as her tiny cunt split asunder under the merciless pounding of her brother's gigantic phallus.
But the only sounds she made were sounds of pure joy as the meat pole continued to dance in and out of her petite pussy. They fucked with an abandon, a wild, young joy that had always been lacking in scenes of this kind involving adults. They fucked like what they were doing was more fun than anything else in this world, and Tom knew that he couldn't stop staring if his very life depended upon his closing his eyes, and turning his head away.
Suddenly, as though on some prearranged signal, the love-locked, genital joined siblings reversed their positions as though they had rehearsed the move 1,000 times. Gregory simply stood up to his full 6' 2" height, lifting Cathy into the air with him, holding her firmly impaled on his upthrust cock, buried to the hairs in her clutching, sucking, immature female insides. Spinning on his heels, he fell flat on his back across the bed, with Cathy now on top of him, riding his cock like a jockey booting home a Kentucky Derby winner.
"What's Going On?!-What's Going On?!-What's Going On?!" The record ended and began again. As the needle arm swung back and down for an instant replay, Tom heard the squishy, smacking "ThloopFloop" of bone hard cock shooting into tight, juicy cunt, the wetly resounding "Splaat-Smack" of saucy, round ass slapping againt upbucking loins. Cathy was leaning forward, kissing her brother wetly, with tongue lashing, lip smacking enthusiasm. The kissing-fucking sounds, as much as the sight of that gigantic, slimy cock dancing in and out of such a miniscule, truly beautiful cunt caused Tom to groan aloud from the ache of the erection fairly bursting out of his pants, and the frustration of not knowing what to do.
Cathy was sitting up now, on her knees, head thrown back and swinging wildly from side to side. Her blonde hair was flying like a golden, gossamer net out from either side of her face, fully revealing her delicate, shell-like ears. Her arms were outstretched, fists convulsively clenching and unclenching, clawing the air as though she were fighting off two invisible assailants seeking to dislodge her from her precious, precarious seat of unbearable joy.
She clenched her fists in her hair as though trying to pull the long, golden mane out by the roots. She flung her head from side to side with such violence that Tom could clearly see her face from where he stood in the darkness behind her. Without registering the thought, Tom marveled at the beauty of his daughter, whom he remembered as a gangling, flatchested, awkward pre-adolescent. At twelve, when he had last seen her, she had only the promise of future beauty in her clear, blue eyes, her fragile, perfectly arched nose, and big white-toothed mouth. He knew that some day her shapeless, knobby knead, bean pole body would fill out, sprout fat, round titties on her bony chest, and that her skinny, little boy's butt would swell, expand, round out into soft, feminine, traffic stopping prominence.
The promise had been fulfilled-that some day was now. Cathy looked like an even more beautiful replica of her mother, Linda, whom Tom still considered to be the most beautiful woman in the world. Cathy's eyes were now bigger and bluer than her mother's, and fringed by long, upcurling lashes that appeared to be false, they were so thick and luxuriant. Her lips, once thin and laughing, were now full, voluptuous, and curled into a grimacing pout of shattering ecstasy.
Her breasts were larger than any young woman's had any need or right to be. They were full, out-jutting, tipped by coral, pencil eraser sized, pencil eraser hard nipples. The creamy melons were bouncing now-up and down-up and down-in perfect time with the desperate urgency of her up and down-up and down-wildly gyrating ass.
Her waist was so thin that Tom could easily span it with his two hands. Like her mother's, though, her ass was her best, most devastatingly sexy feature. It was a love song of voluptuousness, firmly soft, sloping, round bottomed, splaying, flaring wider as it smashed flat against her brother's hairy, contracting thighs.
Tom groaned again, this time louder, and reached down to grab his painfully throbbing, bone hard cock as Greg reached down behind Cathy with both hands, and spread those marvelous, ballooning, alabaster cheeks. It was as if he knew his father was standing there, and knew that he could give him no greater gift, please him no more in life than to perform this act for his benefit. Cathy's ass was so soft that Greg's fingers sank almost out of sight in the tender flesh. The crevice between the cheeks was normally deep, dark, pulling the luscious globes tightly together over the most intimate, the most secret part of her female being. But spread apart like this, her final secret was revealed to her father's hypnotized, lust-enflamed eyes.
Even stronger than his compulsive voyeurism was Tom's fetish, obsession, his on-going and never ending love affair with the female ass. He adored the female ass, worshipped it, found it the most fascinatingly, consistently perfect beauty of all of God's creations. The female asshole to him was a miraculous, magic treasure of wonder and desire. He found it infinitely more sexy, beautiful, worthy of kissing, tonguing, and fucking than any mere cunt that he had ever encountered.
The thing that had first attracted him to Linda when she was a high school cheerleader was not her astonishing facial beauty, which had all the other male students turning flips to date her, it was her ass, which Tom then (and still) thought was the answer to all of his most wildly erotic dreams. Then, when he had gotten her cherry, and she had allowed him to take her anal cherry, also, he knew then and there that he was hooked for life, that this woman-child was born to be his forever.
Now he stood licking his paper dry lips, trembling like a leaf, bent almost double from the pain in his crotch as he stared into Linda's daughter's asshole. It was more inviting, more completely irresistible than any such mini-orifice that he had ever gazed upon. Cathy's asshole was a deeper, darker brown than the surrounding, deep tan valley. It was perfectly round, with a slightly raised, puckered ring that would have fit perfectly around his little finger.
Her anal crevice was wet with sweat, making it appear darker than it actually was. Pulled apart now in a wide, flat plateau, the musky valley floor was revealed to be covered by a thin, silky layer of sweat-slick, blonde fuzz. Her anal opening, pulled apart to form a miniscule, smiling mouth, seemed to wink lewdly at him, seemed to dare him to go on staring into it without cumming in his pants.
Suddenly Greg slid one of his palms across the wiggly, jiggly mound of one of her buttocks, and buried his long, thick middle finger in the deceptively elastic sinkhole all the way past his second knuckle joint. His ring finger followed, and then his index finger. The three of them, bunched together like a corrugated dick, began plunging wetly, slickly into the tiny hole above the larger hole that was so sweetly, completely filled by the smooth, virile, column of his up-plunging, pistoning cock.
"OHHHHHHH-YESSSSSS, DARLING!" Cathy shrieked. "THERE, TOO! I WANT YOUR BIG, SWEET COCK THERE, TOO-UP MY ASSHOLE! I'VE BEEN PRACTICING-LETTING THE BOYS FUCK ME IN THE ASS-LEARNING TO RELAX COMPLETELY-JUST FOR YOU! AND I WANT IT-OHHH GOD, HOW I WANT IT!"
Cathy wasn't screaming nearly as loudly as Tom imagined she was. It was just that everything in this shocking, mind-jumbling situation was blown all out of proportion to reality. In spite of the intense, pounding volume of the stereo, Cathy could have been whispering, and he would have heard every word clearly, because all of his attention, all of his senses were di rected, completely concentrated on the lewdly beautiful, incestuous act that was being performed for him by his son and daughter.
"You're gonna get it! Goddamn, but you're gonna get it!" Greg husked loudly. "And if your asshole is half as good as your pussy, little sister, fuck the Peace Corps-fuck everything else-I'm not leaving here unless I take you with me!"
"Ohhhhh, yes, yes, yesss, darling, it's good-it's good, I know it's good! All the boys tell me that I've got the best cunt and asshole in all of Nantook County! They all swear that nobody fucks as good as I do-nobody-but nobody-can give head like I give head! You know how good that is-you know how I blew your mind deep throating your big cock-you said no other girl had ever been able to get it all the way into her throat like I did! And my asshole will be better, because I'm going to make it better for you. Before daddy gets here, I'm going to have you hooked-I'm going to make you stay!"
"Ohhh, shit! Dad! I forgot ail about him!" Greg shouted in alarm, but not stopping the incessant jogging of his hips up and down on the bed, not missing a stroke of his incredibly long cock's snaking its way in and out of his sister's steaming, streaming pussy. "What time is it? What time is his plane supposed to arrive?"
"Oh, don't worry about him, we've got lots of time-all the time in the world. It can't be later than 7:00-7:30, and his plane isn't due until 2:30 a.m."
Tom glanced down at the luminous hands of his wristwatch. It was 7:15.
"I'll fuck you until he gets here," Greg threatened. "I don't know how I'll ever be able to stop. Good god damn, sis, I've never seen anything like you-never had anything like you-Jeeezus-whip it on me, baby, whip that fabulous cunt of yours on your big brother! You're the greatest, goddamn, you're the absolute greatest!"
"NOT MEEEE, YOU ARE! OHHHHHH GODDAMN-SHIT-FUCK-FUCK-I-I'M CUMMMINNNNGGGG A-AGAINNNN!" Cathy wailed, this time just as loudly as Tom imagined that she was. "I-I-I-YnilEEE-CAN'T S-SSSTAND IT! OOOOHHHHH GOD, I'LLLL G-GO COM-COMPLETELY OUT OF M-MY MIIIND! SSSSTOP, DAR-DARLINNNG-PL-PLEEEEASE S-SSSTOP! TAKE IT OUT OF M-MY C-C-CUNT, AND SHSHOVE IT UP MY ASSHOLE-SHH-SHSHOVE IT IN HARD-HURT MEEE-OOOHHH GOD-JUST MAKE M-MEEEEE ST-STOP C-CUCUMMMMINNNNNNGGGGG!"
Tom did a frantic little in-place dance. Sweat was streaming down his face, and running into his shirt collar. He knew that there was no way under the sun for him to remain standing there and watch what Cathy was begging Greg to do to her without his doing something crazy. He was afraid that he would scream-that he would crash to the floor in a dead faint, snatch his cock out and jerk off, run into the bedroom, pull Greg bodily off of and out of Cathy's asshole, and replace his son's cock with his own. He knew he couldn't stand to watch it, he knew it.
But he was unable to move out of his tracks. He stood stock still, holding his breath, gripping the carrying strap of his suitcase until his knuckles ached. All of his senses were reeling as Cathy jerked her engulfing cunt up and off of Greg's still pounding cock, and scooted backward off the bed. As Greg's dong lost contact, and bobbled free into the air, twitching and jerking, slimy with her thick, syrupy juices, Tom gasped aloud at the size of the thing. He knew that it was huge, gigantic, enormous, just from what he could see of it going in and out of the recently vacated hole, but he was still in no way prepared for the full-sized view of it that he now had.
Since he himself had been a teenager, Tom had always been inordinately proud of his ten-inch thickheaded cock. Always having been tall, dark, and handsome, the girls had literally chased him down because of his striking good looks, only to be at first frightened, then completely hooked on his oversized, amazingly long lasting, hard driving tool. Until his own dick had grown longer and thicker, he thought that his father had the biggest cock in the world, and wondered how his mother could take the fat-headed, nine-inch tool with such joyfully shrieking pleasure in both asshole and cunt. Now, in comparison to the gigantic meat club hung between his son's legs, Tom felt that his source of manly pride was undersized and inadequate.
"Eleven-maybe even twelve inches!" Tom gasped aloud. "And I'll bet it's thicker soft than mine is hard. And my God, look at the head on that thing, it's as big as Cathy's fist!"
Cathy was now standing wide legged on the floor, bending at the waist over the bed, sucking and licking her brother's cock. Holding, stroking it in both tiny hands, she let the gathered saliva in her mouth run down between her fingers. Jerking her hands smoothly up and down, she juiced up the quivering pole from head to nut sack.
Tom had to close his eyes tightly for a moment. He couldn't stand the sight of Cathy's ass poked out and foreshortened before his glazed and painfully staring eyes. But when he reopened them, the scene had not changed. The sight caused his knees to grow weak, making him stumble back against the door and lean against it for support.
The way she was bending, her cunt hung open, oozing in full, obscenely naked view, punched straight out behind her like the cunt of a sleek mare. The thick, silken bush of her pubic hair ran down the insides of her slender, widely spaced thighs, framing the swollen, scarlet, slimy lips of her love grotto. The inner lips were also swollen, and almost purple in their blood-gorged, fat, and wrinkled fullness. They hung outside the pouting outer lips like thick, slightly wilting rose petals. Her love hole, also flaming pink, was open with silvery strings of female jism dribbling out of the constricting, convoluting, starfish-like entrance.
Satisfied that the meat pole that was about to enter her tight, impossibly small back hole was as slick and slimy as could be, she hopped back up on the bed and straddled Greg's long, hairy legs. Again his hands reached down behind her to spread her ass cheeks. Her hands appeared between her own spread thighs, and once more tenderly, lovingly grabbed his rampant cock, and squeezed it gently as she wriggled her ass into position over it. With a fear for her that bordered on terror, Tom noted that her fingertips and thumbs didn't even meet around the massive stalk.
"No way!" he said to himself. "There is no way under the sun that he can get that oversized baseball bat into her tiny asshole without crippling her for life!"
He was about to throw all caution to the wind and order Greg to stop, yell for Cathy to put an end to this insane act, when her musical voice caused him to wait-to back off and see what happened.
"Just take it easy until you get that brick bat of a cock head past my sphincter, darling," she instructed her brother as she guided the giant, mushroom-like head to her anal hole, relaxed, and pressed it in. "Once you get inside you'll see that I'm hot, juicy, and roomy as all hell inside my asshole, and you can fuck me as hard as you want to. You'll see that your baby sister can take all you can pound into her, and beg for more!"
Tom turned, wrenched the door open, closed it softly behind him, and stumbled blindly into the night.
CHAPTER TWO
Tom sat in the Flamingo Bar and Lounge with both hands wrapped around a tall glass of bourbon and water, still shaking from the experience of a few minutes earlier.
"Just calm down-relax-calm down and try to think clearly, rationally," he told himself.
He took a deep swig from his drink, shook his head, and counted slowly to ten with his eyes closed and his hands tightly gripping the glass.
"My wife, Linda, the only woman I have ever loved, and the only woman I will ever love, divorced me for an act of incest with my oldest daughter, Christina," he said softly, pedantically, to himself, as though he were patiently explaining the situation to a second party, "but it was an act of incest that never happened. The only catch is, if she hadn't divorced me, it would have happened, because that was the very next thing on my sexual agenda. I was going to fuck that indescribably lovely, unbelievably sexy little girl no matter what the consequences."
Tom snorted a derisive hoot of ironic laughter, and took another deep gulp from his drink.
"And that's the part of this crazy, unbelievable thing tonight that shook me up so, that I couldn't cope with," he went on talking to himself. "A normal, ordinary father would have beat his son nearly to death had he caught him doing to his sister what I caught him doing to Cathy. But goddammit, I'm not an ordinary, normal father. I raised my kids sexually free. Greg asked me himself, when he was just twelve years old, if it were alright for him to fuck his sisters.
"I told him that if they were both old enough to really know and appreciate what they were doing, if they knew and understood the implications and consequences of the act, if they were intelligent enough to know about contraception and exactly how society felt about such a thing-and most importantly-if they both wanted to-with each other-that there was nothing wrong with it-that the age-old incest taboo was so much outmoded bullshit."
Tom laughed derisively again as he thought back on all of his good intentions, all of his beautiful, fantastic, early life experiences that had all turned out so utterly disastrous. Tom let his mind drift further back, as far back as he could remember, and as far back as he could remember, there had never been a single period in his life that sex had not been the focal point of his very existence.
His parents, Fred and Marge Kellerman, had been two happy, loving, insatiable hedonists who gorged themselves on each other's bodies many times in any given day and night. First and foremost, they simply could not get enough of each other. Secondly, they were desperately trying for a baby sister for Tom, who had been born exactly six months after their hasty, but belated marriage.
Up until he was four or five years old, Fred and Marge seemed to think that Tom had no idea at all what they were doing, and would fuck and suck each other right in front of him as though he were not even in the room. By the time he had started in the first grade, and would come home in the afternoon and catch them fucking like a couple of horny teenagers on the living room couch, standing in the kitchen, or lying on their big double bed, they wouldn't stop, but they would tell him to leave the room until they were through. Tom would leave the room as ordered, but he would stand in the next room, peeking around the door out of big, curious brown eyes, completely fascinated by what his father was doing to his mother. He loved the sounds that they made, his mother's cooing, moaning, groaning, their lips smacking with wet, sloppy, sucking kisses. He never grew tired of watching his father's long, thick, stone-hard cock pounding in and out of his mother's hairy, pink, juice-squirting pussy hole.
They had lived in a big, old, two-story house on the outskirts of town that Fred had inherited from his grandmother. The walls were high and thin, with cracks in the plaster. His bedroom was downstairs right next to his parents', and nightly he would lie awake listening to the bedsprings groan and squeak, to his mother's deep, mellow voice crying in ecstasy, telling her husband-lover just how good it was, what she wanted him to do, and how she wanted him to do it....
("Oooohhhh-Ummmmnnng-Ahhhghhh-Ohhh, Fred-Ooooohhhh, Fred. My darling, dar-linnngsweet fucking, good dick darlinnnnggg-Oooohhh, it's soooo goooood-you fuck me so goooood, honeyyyy-Aaaahhhhhgghhh-Oooooohhh, Harder-har-der, babeeeee-fuck me just like th-that-Oooohhhh God-yes, yesss, YESSS-I-I'M C-CUMMMMING!")
And his father's dark, bass voice would accompany hers in a duet of ecstasy and lust....
(Goddamn-G-Godammmn, sugar, but your pussy gets hotter and tighter and-and-juicier-and and-ooohhh shit-bbetter-every goddamn time I s-stick my d-dick in it-Ooooh fuck, honey-baby, shit-shit-shake that big sweet ass of yours. WAAAHOOOOO! Sling it to me baby, whip that red-hot pussy on me! Give it to me-goddammit, don't hold back-Give it to me, goddammnit-give it all to meee!"
"Yes, darling, ooohhhh, yes, yes, yessss, it's yours-all yours! My pussy-my asshole-my mouth-get it honey, get it all-shoot that sweet dick to me-you can't hurt your pussy, babeee-I love it, love it, love it pounding up in my belly like this-shoot it to me-shoot it tooo meee! If you want some asshole, just tell me, and I'll roll over-if you want me to suck you off, don't ask, just shove it down my throat! Oooooohhh God-OOoohhh God, I'll never get enough of your big, sweet, killing dick never-NEVERRRRRRR!")
And Tom would lie listening, his ear pressed to the wall so he wouldn't miss a sound, and already at the ages of seven, eight, nine, he was jerking off as many as three times in a single night while listening to their obscenely violent love making. A long, thick crack in the plaster wall between the two bedrooms, running from floor to ceiling, was wide enough to let a sliver of light shine into his room from theirs. He had made the crack wider by driving a huge nail into it, jiggling it around, and pulling it back out.
Now, instead of his ear, it was his eye pressed to the wall, where he had a perfect view of the sights that went along with the sounds. Everything that a man could possibly do to a woman in bed, he saw his father do repeatedly to his mother. Everything under the sun that a woman can do to give a man sexual pleasure, he saw his mother do with, for, and to his father.
And Tom had developed a flaming, obsessive sexual crush on his mother that never diminished. His dark-eyed, black haired mother had been 5' 9", and weighed 145 pounds. Her tits were 38-D, her waist was 30 inches, and her lush, sensuous, forty-inch ass had been a thing of heavy, twin-globed beauty that drove her young son almost wild with incestuous lust. No matter how many times a day or night he jerked off, his fantasy partner was always his mother-sucking his cock-letting him lick and suck her pussy-letting him fuck her in her asshole, just like she did his father.
Marge's older sister, Helen, was married, and lived a couple of hundred miles away in Caimbert. Helen was just as pretty as Marge, and even bigger. She was 5' 11", weighed 160 pounds, and her measurements were an uncanny 40-33-44. Like her younger sister, Helen was absolutely sex crazy. Helen and her husband, Ted, would come to visit at least five or six times each year, and each time they would spend no less than a weekend. Their only child, Gail, was a pretty, freckle-faced, redheaded hoyden, two years older than Tom. Tom hated her guts, because she always had to sleep with him, and he couldn't watch his parents through his peephole with this tall skinny-assed, pushy girl in bed with him.
It had been Gail, though, who had shaken him awake one night when he was twelve and she was fourteen, and told him to listen. He had sat up in bed shocked and confused at the sounds he heard coming from his parents' bedroom, and it had taken him a moment to discover what was going on in there....
("Gawddam, Fred, looks like I married the wrong sister! This little woman of yours has got the hottest, tightest pussy I ever had my fuckin' joint hung up in! Gaaahhd-damn, Margey ease up, honey-shityou're gon'na make me blast my nuts too f-fuckin' fast!"
"Don't worry, ol'buddy, you didn't get shortchanged a goddamn bit! Jeeezus fuckin' Christ, but this woman of yours is some kinda' goddamn cocksucker-look, honey, look and learn something from your big sister--she's got the whole fucking thing down her throat-all fucking nine fucking inches! Holy fuck! Suck it, Helen, goddamn, suck that cock, baby!")
Tom had snatched the big nail out that he kept stuck in the wall to camouflage his peephole, and glued his eye to the opening. He held his breath in awe and fascination as he clearly saw his mother, father, Aunt Helen, and Uncle Ted, with switched partners, going at it hot and heavy in his parents' bed....
("Let me look I want to see it, too," Gail had hissed, pushing him away from the hole and, on her knees in his bed, had replaced his eye at the hole with her own.)
Tom had flopped over on his back in bed in anger and disgust. He wanted to watch some more. He wanted to jerk off. But he could do neither with this silly little bitch hogging the hole, and right there to witness him playing with himself like a baby....
("Play with me while I watch."
"Wh-what? Play? Play what?"
"Play with my pussy, stupid. I haven't got any panties on. Just reach up under my slip and play with it-stick your finger in it.")
Tom had eagerly complied. Hesitant and fearful at first, he had touched it, and hastily jerked his hand away in reaction to the wetness and heat of the young girl's steamy, pulsating loins. Then he had screwed up his courage and boldly stuck his finger in her tight little hole. He stroked it, fondled it, played with her clit, stuck two fingers in and finger fucked her rapidly....
("C-can I-uhhh-k-kiss it, G-Gail-p-please?"
"Christ, yes. That's what daddy and Uncle Fred are doing to mommy and Aunt Marge right now. Oooohhh God, yes yes-lick it, Tommyyyy, lick it-lick me all over down there-like my ass-my asshole-everything-I'll do you after, but lick me now-make me cum. You can even fuck me later, just don't cum in my pussy. Mommy said that if you wanted to do anything with me that I could let you, as long as you don't cum in my pussy and make me a baby.")
And Tom had sucked her cunt, tongued her asshole, licked her clit until she had cum again and again, and again. Then she had inexpertly sucked his cock until he shot a geysering load of thick, hot jism down her gullet. They had long since quit peeking at and listening, to their parents by the time she got his and he got her cherry.
By the end of the three days and two nights' visit, Tom' was an accomplished cocksman and cunt lapper. He had religiously kept count of the times that he had cum and made her cum in the almost non-stop marathon. She had squealed that she was cumming exactly sixteen times. He had cum in her mouth five times, cum in her asshole four times, and shot his load all over her stomach three times.
From that weekend on, Tom started a campaign to fuck as many girls as he could entice to lie down and spread their thighs for him. Since none of the seventh grade girls in his class were appealing to him, he started dating high school girls. At twelve he was 5' 8", weighed 120 pounds, and had a seven-inch cock. With his curly, jet black hair and huge, dark brown eyes, he was almost too pretty to be a boy, and he had no trouble whatever convincing the freshman girls that he was fourteen years old, and crazy about them.
By the time he actually entered high school at the age of fourteen, he was not only fucking many of the junior and senior female students, but also some of the single as well as married teachers. Though he was a straight "A" student, star on the track team, and ace quarterback on the football team, his primary activity and greatest love was and remained sex, sex, and more sex.
When Tom was eighteen, during his senior year in high school, his father had been killed in an automobile accident, and within six months his mother had married a tall, handsome, extremely successful, but conservative, strait-laced banker. They had moved into the ex-bachelor's suburban mansion, and Tom's room was in a completely different wing of the house from his mother's and step-father's. Mostly out of jealousy that he was fucking Marge, but also because he was the complete opposite of his earthy, plain spoken, easy-going father, Tom couldn't stand Horace Skelton, his mother's new husband. Thus, at the end of the first semester, he had moved to Caimbert to finish high school, and live with his Aunt Helen and Uncle Ted.
Gail was now twenty, already married, and living in another city with her husband and two children. Helen, however, was as lovely and lusty as ever, and her big, fat, soft ass still made Tom's mouth water every time he looked at it. On his first night in their house, while Ted sat in the living room watching TV, Helen had come into his bedroom, stripped naked, and hopped under the covers with him, informing him that she would gladly take care of all of his sex needs until he found a girl of his own.
Since his room was directly off the living room, Tom knew that there was no way that Ted couldn't have known what his horny wife was up to. Still, he fucked and sucked the coltishly bucking, hysterically screaming woman until almost sunrise the next morning. If his wife's blatantly incestuous infidelity had any effect whatever on Ted, it was the effect of an aphrodisiac, because when Tom left for school at 7:30 in the morning, he plainly heard the bedsprings squeaking, and Helen squealing joyously as her husband pounded her pussy to a fare-thee-well.
Tom had been going to Central High for less than a week when he had seen Linda from the rear, she had seen him from the front, and for both of them it had been love at first sight. The beautiful, bubbly blonde sixteen-year-old was all that Tom had ever wanted in a woman. Though she stood only 5' 5", and weighed a mere 115 pounds, her measurements were 36-D-2236. She was Captain of the Pom-Pom girls, President of the Sophomore Class, and though she dated heavily, she was still a virgin when Tom took her out on their first date. When she got home early the next morning, she was no longer a virgin. On their second date Linda had had her very first cock-induced orgasm. That night was the first time that she had had her pussy sucked, which also gave her her first tongue-induced orgasm. Though she gagged, and almost choked in the attempt, she also managed on that night to suck Tom's cock to orgasm, and swallow every drop.
Linda's parents Were conventional, conservative, and overly protective. Thus, it was Helen who put her future niece-in-law on the Pill, and allowed the two horny youngsters to fuck and suck to their heart's delight in Tom's room without any fear of being disturbed. In spite of the fact that Tom was head over heels in love with Linda, the insatiable young stud simply could not be satisfied with one sex partner, even one as hot in the ass and constantly eager to fuck as Linda. By now his relationship with his uncle and aunt was such that he had free and unrestricted access to her sexy body any time he wanted it.
Though he would walk into the kitchen and catch her cooking a meal, and fuck her standing up from behind while she went about her business, or catch her in the bathtub and shove his cock down her throat while she bathed, these were not the best times he had with her. What he liked to do most of all was get both Ted and Helen hot and horny by making Linda scream bloody murder in his room, then when Linda was gone, and the two oldsters were in bed working up a head of steam, he would go in and join them. He would fuck Helen in the ass while her husband reamed her cunt; suck his own and his uncle's jism from her overflowing pussy, while Ted corn-holed her rolling, humping ass.
Linda was so crazy about Tom, so eager to please and hot to trot that she would do anything in bed that he suggested to her. Tom was by then such an expert at any and all forms of sex that anything he did to her, she loved more than she loved anything else in this world, with the exception of Tom himself.
When Linda finished high school, Tom was a college senior. They married on Linda's graduation day, and by the time Tom had graduated with honors, and spent five years teaching speech and communications at Central High, all three kids had been born. First Christina, then Gregory, then Catherine.
Tom had grown bored with teaching, and quit to open his own public relations firm. Within five years he had a staff of six, and a suite of offices. Within the next five years his staff had mushroomed to twenty-four, he owned an entire office building, and had clients from coast to coast. Tom was constantly pleased and surprised all over again by his uncanny ability to fuck practically every woman he crooked his finger at. Every single woman that he had ever hired, old, young, married and single-sooner or later he got around to sampling the goodies between her thighs.
Out of all of his sex partners, however, out of all the women whom he had ever known, including Marge and Helen, Linda was the horniest. She had an extensive set of vibrators and dildoes that she used at home during the day when he was at the office and the kids were in school. She admitted to masturbating as many as a half dozen times a day-every day-but simply had to have sex at least once nightly with her equally horny husband, and several times daily and nightly on weekends.
Still, when Tom had tried to persuade her to swing with him and their best friends, Carl and Sylvia Forester, Linda had hit the ceiling. She considered the Foresters and all swingers like them sick, sexually immature, and disgusting. Tom had long since been having sex alone with Sylvia, as well as in threesomes with Carl, and neither he nor the Foresters could understand why the beautiful, hot-assed nymphomaniac would not even consider joining the sextivities. Both Carl and Sylvia were bi-sexual, and both of them lusted after Linda with the same amount of unrequited passion. The first two fights of Tom and Linda's truly happy, loving, fantastically beautiful marriage had occurred around the same time. The first had been when Tom tried to persuade Linda to swing. Though he had put up every argument he could think of, Tom had lost that fight. The second one occurred when the kids got old enough to become curious about what "daddy was doing to mommy," and began asking some very sex-oriented questions. Tom had insisted that the kids be raised completely sexually free, with nothing hidden from them, and no question asked left unanswered, truthfully, frankly, and with no bullshit and hypocrisy. Tom had won that fight.
Their third and final fight was not really a fight, because Tom had refused to defend himself, and Linda had won by default. Linda had been out to her regular Friday night bridge game, which had broken up between 11:30 and 12:00 every Friday night for years. After the bridge games the "girls" had always gone to an all-night Italian restaurant for pizza. In the five years that she had belonged to the club, not one single Friday night had Linda come home before 1:00 a.m.
On that Friday night, just like every other Friday night, Greg had stayed over with one of his school chums, who took turns within their group staying all weekend with one or the other. Cathy was upstairs, deeply asleep in her room. Cathy went up to her room every week night at 8:30, and on Fridays and Saturdays, no later than 10:00. She would do her homework, watch TV, and fall into a deep sleep (usually with the TV set still on) from which she had to be roughly and repeatedly shaken awake the next morning in time for breakfast.
On this particular Friday night, however, Linda had come home at 11:45 instead of an hour or so later, at her usual time. She had come straight down to the family room, and caught Tom and Tina standing stark naked in the middle of the huge, basement room, arms locked around each other's necks, sharing a long, deep, tongue-probing kiss.
This was not at all strange or incriminating, since the Kellermans were a close, happy, loving family, and did a lot of hugging and kissing, both clothed and unclothed. But on this occasion Tina's long, dark hair was sweat-wet and clinging to her forehead and shoulders. Tom was also sweating and breathing hard, with a sweat-damp, cum-stained bath towel draped over his shoulder. The air in the closed room was saturated with the heavy smell of pure, pungent, funky, just finished sex.
Linda had screamed a lot, cried a lot, called a lot of names, made a lot of threats and accusations. She had challenged the two culprits to deny that they had been guilty of the most foul, obscene, sick, perverted, immoral, and degenerate crime known to man. Then she laid down her ultimatum.
Tom was to pack his bags immediately, and leave the house and the city forever. He was to leave his forwarding address with the law firm of Hennesy and Hennesy, and wait to hear the terms of the divorce, which he could be certain would include her getting the house, the car, custody of the children, and a whopping big alimony.
Tina was likewise to pack her bags, in preparation to being shipped out East to live with relatives. Under no circumstances was she to attempt to contact her father in any way, form, or fashion until she was eighteen and could do as she damned well pleased.
And that's the way it had ended. Shortly thereafter Tom had learned from Jason Hennesy that Greg had moved to Minnesota to live in a commune. After that he had heard from no other member of his family, until the letter arrived from Herbert Hennesy, Linda's lawyer, just a couple of days ago. The letter had informed him that if he wanted to see his son one more time before Greg left the States for the next several years he could see him between midnight on Friday, May 19, 1978, and noon on Saturday, May 20, 1978. It was essential, the message reminded him, that he arrange his arrival and departure to fit into this time schedule, or the consequences could be extremely costly and embarrassing.
"My plane was supposed to have arrived at 2:15 a.m.," Tom went on talking softly to himself, trying to get the entire crazy mess straight in his own mind, "but I took an earlier one instead. Hennesy said that Linda wouldn't be home, and goddamnit, I wanted to spend as much time with my kids as possible. My return plane was supposed to leave tomorrow morning at 11:45, but I hadn't planned to be on it. I was going to stick around and see Tina again, and to hell with the consequences.
"If I fucked up our lives with my freaky, sex-consumed lifestyle, then so be it. I'm making no goddamned apologies, because I haven't got shit to apologize for. I'm me, and I wouldn't change for anything in the world. That was the way I was raised, and I loved it, wouldn't have it any other way. I don't care how many other people think my sexual habits and feelings are wrong, immoral, sick. I simply cannot jump over my own shadow-I've got to be true to me. I've never seen two happier, more loving kids in my life than Greg and Cathy in Linda's bed tonight. If such joy, such pure, unabashed pleasure is wrong, then I'll be goddamned if I want to be right.
"Still, catching them like that further confuses, rather than helps to straighten out matters. I don't know where to begin-what to do. I'll be a son of a bitch-I'll just be a son of a bitch if I know what to do."
As if Tom's last statement had been heard in the large, busy nightclub, a deep, masculine voice boomed over the music of the band on the stand, "THOMAS EUGENE KELLERMAN! YOU SON OF A BITCH!"
CHAPTER THREE
Tom jumped as though he had been jabbed in the ass with a hat pin. Every head at the surrounding ten or twelve tables swung in the direction of his booth. Half rising, and turning to see who had addressed him with such inappropriate familiarity, Tom's eyes flew wide in happy surprise, and he yelled almost as loudly as his best friend had, "Carl Maurice Forester! You bastard! You sweet bastard! How the hell are you, fella?!" , The two friends pumped each other's outstretched hands, hugged each other, slapped each other on the back, danced about in glee.
"When the hell did you get in? Are you back to stay?" Carl asked.
"I just pulled in," Tom lied, "haven't even been home yet. I'll be leaving tomorrow-just dropped in to see Greg, who is also just passing through."
"The hell you preach!" Carl roared. "What the fuck do you mean just passing through-leaving tomorrow? Are you out of your mind? Hadn't you planned to come out to the house?"
"Well, uhh-s-sure, sure," Tom stammered, having decided before leaving California that he wouldn't see the Foresters. "I was at least going to call-first thing in the morning-for sure."
"You damned well bet you were coming out to see us!' Carl said, still talking so loudly that he was holding the undivided attention of all the people at the neighboring tables. "And not in the morning-tonight! If I go home and tell Syl that I saw you and didn't bring you home with me, even if I had to clobber you, hog tie you, and get you there on my shoulder, she'd kill me on the spot! Is Greg already here? We can call him later from our place, and he can come over, too."
"Uhhhh-n-no," Tom said, "Greg isn't here yet-he's uhhh-he's due in on a much later flight-sometime around midnight-that's why I didn't go straight home."
"Well, hell, that settles it. It's not even 8:00 yet. We can go to my place-have a few drinks-have a few laughs-just like old times. Syl will drop over dead when you walk in that door-come on, man, time's awasting!"
Tom had no choice in the matter, his 6', 200pound friend was already dragging him toward the door. Besides, he did want to see Sylvia, and the Forester's daughter, Patricia, too. The Foresters were more his kind of people than his own family, and though he had vowed not to see them on this trip, he was glad that he had run into Carl, and could hardly wait to grab his bag, pay for his drink, and follow his buddy out to the Forester Cadillac in the lounge parking lot.
"What the fuck happened to you and Linda?" Carl asked as soon as he was under the wheel, and pulling out into the early night traffic. "Man, Syl and I have been going cuckoo trying to figure this out. Linda dropped us like a ton of hot bricks-hung up on us-told us not to call her house anymore. We didn't know what the fuck we'd done, and we still don't. You said yourself-dozens of times-that Linda probably knew-couldn't very well help but know that you were fucking Syl. You said she just didn't want to admit it to herself, and as long as you didn't openly confess-kept it out of her sight-that it was no problem. That wasn't the reason for the divorce, was it, man? I learned from Herb Hennesy that she had divorced you, but that's all I could get out of the bastard-no details of any kind-what happened, buddy?"
"I'd rather not talk about it, Carl," Tom said, "not now, anyway-maybe later-give me a break, will you?"
"Okay, buddy, okay. Where are you located now? What are you doing?"
"California," Tom said. "L.A. I'm doing the same thing I was doing here. How's my girl Sylvia?"
"More lovely than ever, still as hot in the ass as a woman can get without having to wear asbestos drawers to keep from catching her dresses on fire. And her favorite sexual turn-on and topic of conversation is till your educated tongue, and that fantabulous, ungodly, insatiable weapon hanging between your legs. Remember our sandwich-our 'ham' sandwich-you in her asshole, me in her cunt? We've tried it dozens of times since you left, with dozens of different dudes, and it has never been anywhere near as good to her-to me-to us-as with you."
Tom's cock jumped once more achingly hard in his pants as he remembered the times with Carl and Sylvia. "Uhhh-how about Pat-is she home tonight?" Tom asked.
"No, Patty moved in with her boyfriend about a year ago, but she's still the same little girl you once knew-and loved-only now she's more so. That ass on her will knock your eyes out. After we have done a job on Syl, if you are still up to it, I'll call Pat over, and you two can renew old acquaintances any way you see fit."
Carl pulled the sleek Caddy into the garage of the Forester's huge, tri-level, suburban home, and killed the engine.
"Wait," he said to Tom, who was already reaching to open the door. "We've got to pull this off in a special way. We can't just walk in on her. I just hopped over to the Flamingo for cigarettes. Syl was down in the family room sipping a Martini and watching TV. All she's got on is a short, lacy, black pegnoir-nothing on under it. In fact, she had one leg thrown over the arm of the couch, doing herself a job with her vibrator while she watched the boob tube."
"You're the boss," Tom said, imagining the voluptuous, redheaded doll thrumming her fat, turgid clit. "How do you want to do it?"
"I'll go in like nothing has happened," Carl chortled. "You come in quietly behind me, but remain standing at the top of the family room stairs. I'll arrange my chair so that it's facing the stairs, and tell her to come over and give me a blow job. When she comes to me, I'll see to it that she remains standing, just bent at the waist over my cock. I'll do it by sticking my fingers up her ass. She loves for me to do that, and she knows I can't get my finger in with her on her knees, so she'll stay in that position. You strip while I'm down there getting her into position, and soon as you see that I've got her just right, you tiptoe down the stairs without making a sound, and drive your cock into her backthrusted cunt or asshole-take your choice. I'll grab her by the head, and hold her down on my cock, and we'll see if she recognizes your dick without even suspecting that you are anywhere around."
Tom laughed at the lusty, overblown imagination of his old fucking buddy, and followed him into the kitchen. He stopped at the top of the stairs, and listened to the conversation drifting up the stairwell as he swiftly, silently undressed.
"You get the cigarettes, darling?"
"Yeah, baby-sure. You want one?"
"Not really. I found a half pack in my purse after you left, and I just put one out."
"Is that crap on TV interesting?"
"Shit, no. I'm not even watching it, I'm just using it as a distraction to keep me from cumming too fast. Want to go to bed?"
"Not yet, I'm waiting for an important phone call, and if I get it, the party might be coming over."
"Ummmmmmmm? Business or pleasure?"
"Pleasure."
"Ummmmm? He or she-or both?"
"He."
"Do I know him?"
"You might-if not, you will-does it matter?"
"Has it ever? As long as he can raise a hard, or stick out his tongue and flutter it a bit, I'll take a chance on him."
"You horny bitch. Come over here and suck my cock while we wait."
"Well, I like your nerve, you lazy bastard-I'm comfortable. If I put my mind to it, I can cum real quick with my trusty vibe. You come over here and fuck me in my mouth while I do it, and the orgasm that I get will be twice as good."
"I asked first," Carl said, "and besides, I don't want to cum, and I don't want you to, either. I just want to pass the time away. If this deal goes through, I promise you that you'll throw all of your vibrators and dildoes in the garbage."
"Promises-promises," Sylvia jeered softly. All the same she shrugged out of her pegnoir, and dropped her vibrator on top of it. Standing up, she swayed languidly over to her seated husband, who had slipped out of his pants and shorts, and was now sitting stroking his long, upcurving, flange headed cock.
At the top of the stairs, Tom sighed wistfully in amazement at how sexy and beautiful Sylvia still was, in spite of her thirty-eight years. Her small, big-nippled breasts sagged no more than the average eighteen-year-old's. She had not even the hint of a belly to increase the tiny proportions of her twenty-four-inch waist. Though her buttocks were slender, they were beautifully full and rounded at the bottom, perfectly pear shaped, mouth wateringly delicious looking.
As she stood before her husband, and prepared to sink to her knees on the soft carpet before him, Carl reached out with both hands, caught her beneath ei ther ass cheek, and held her up on her feet. For the benefit of his bug-eyed friend at the top of the stairs, Carl pulled the cottony orbs widely apart, exposing her puckered, wrinkled, walnut brown asshole.
As Sylvia bent at the waist, grabbed the thick stalk of Carl's cock in her fist, and pushed the thick, purple head into her mouth, he shoved three bunched fingers into her cunt, and pulled them out dripping with her slimy juices. Holding her ass cheeks apart with the fingers of his other hand, he screwed the three slime-slick fingers as deeply .as he could push them into her clinging ass canal.
Both of them groaned aloud, he from the exquisitely pleasureful sensation of her hot, wet lips sucking his cock like a lollipop, and she from the intensely erotic feeling of his well-manicured fingers swiveling cock like in and out of her sensitive asshole.
A groan that neither of them heard escaped from Tom's throat. Now, stripped naked and gripping his aching cock tightly, he began trembling from head to foot from the pent-up lust that had been enflamed as he had watched Greg and Cathy, and then rekindled by his watching Carl and Sylvia.
Carl slipped his fingers out of Sylvia's poop chute, and indicated by pointing that this was the hole that Tom was to make use of. Peering up into the semidarkness of the stairwell, he watched Tom tiptoe hurriedly down. As soon as his friend was positioned behind the tall, slender, bent over sexpot, Carl spread her cheeks widely apart again, giving Tom a point blank, wide open target that he couldn't have missed had he tried.
"Suck it, baby-goddamn, suck my dick, you sweet, cocksucking whore. Don't stop-Ohhhh goddamn don't stop now!" Carl cried to keep Sylvia from raising her head to ask why he had stopped finger fucking her rectum.
When Carl had pointed to the hole that he wanted, it had been a totally unnecessary gesture. That was the hole that Tom had decided upon as soon as Carl had laid the outlandish plan out to him, and he had already slicked his entire cock up with a thick, slippery coating of saliva. Now he aimed the spit-slick pole at Sylvia's back-poked, wide-opened asshole, and slammed his hips forward with all of his lust-crazed strength. Though her asshole was pulled open by Carl's fingers splaying her balloony ass cheeks, the opening was still no larger than the tip of his little finger. The head and shaft of the cock that he arrowed into that tiny hole, however, were as large as California cucumbers, and had Sylvia not had Carl's cock buried in her mouth to her tonsils, she would have screamed at the top of her lungs.
As it was, all she could manage was loud, muffled, choking sounds that came out:
She had tried to spit Carl's cock out and jerk her head into the air as soon as the thing that felt like a velvet-covered cannon barrel had slammed its way into her guts. Carl had anticipated the move, however, and he had quickly twisted his fingers in her curly hair, and thrust his hips up as he pulled her head forcefully downward, embedding his throbbing cock even deeper in her throat.
Sylvia danced about from foot to foot, whipped her ass from side to side, jumped up and down in place, bucking like a bronco with a burr under its saddle in her wild, frantic efforts to dislodge this savage beast that had her nearly split asshole so solidly impaled on its impossibly long, thick horn.
She continued to squall: "OOOGGGGHHHLLLLLUUPPPHH! UUUNNNGGGHHHLLLUUURRRRP! EEEERRRUUMMMMPPPHULLLGGGGUULLUUUUPPPHHH!"
Tom felt sorry for her. He wanted to stop and rip Carl's gripping fingers from her hair, give her a chance to come up for air, and really get it on the way he knew she loved it, the way that all three of them loved it. But then he remembered that among many other freaky sexual quirks, Sylvia was a dyed-in-thewool masochist. Her most shattering, schreeching, clawing orgasms were triggered when she was being sexually brutalized. She had often taken his ten-inch cock, and Carl's nine and a half-inch cock in her mouth, cunt, or asshole simultaneously, and she always reminded them that the harder they pounded both their cocks in the single opening, the better she liked it.
She always loved having her clit sucked and licked, but when she was on the verge of cumming from being tongued there, the orgasm would not explode until her lover obeyed her screaming demands to "Bite it! Chew it! Harder! Harder! OHHHH GODChew it like you're chewing gum-Yesss Yesssthat's it-HARDER-HARDER-I-I-I'MMM C-CCUMMMMINNNNNNGGGGG!"
Remembering this, and more about Sylvia's love of sexual pain, Tom grabbed her by both thighs, and began pounding his cock into her asshole like a demented rabbit. At the same time, Carl had secured his fingers even more tightly in her hair, and was now bucking his hips all the way into the air from the bouncy chair cushion, and jerking her head viciously, repeatedly downward to smash her face into his uppistoning loins, drive his cock deeper and deeper into her congested throat.
Her choked, gargled cries became more desperately loud and intense. The sounds were eerie, spine chilling, and incredibly exciting.
Tom had long since-years and years ago-lost all desire for straight fucking. As a teenager he had deflowered so many frightened virgins, and fucked so many eager, willing, but square round-heeled peers, that he had begun running from them, rather than chasing them. He had been seduced, and allowed himself to be seduced by so many married and single young ladies, and so many more married and single older matrons, who were all dying to sample his cock, but otherwise, strait-laced and conventional, that merely fucking a woman on a one-to-one, cock-in-cunt basis had become an uninspiring, monumental bore to him. The older he got, the freakier sex had to be before it could really turn him on.
That was why he was so crazy about Linda. She would do anything that he demanded of her in bed, without hesitation, with the exception of sharing their sex with others. That was why he loved Carl and Sylvia almost as much as he loved Linda, because they were total freaks, and drew the line absolutely nowhere. That was why the scene between Greg and Cathy had shaken him up so-not because he was angry, not because of the incest-quite the contrary-it was the incest, the joyful nose-thumbing at this age-old taboo that was the best part of it. It was just the act of secretly watching his children, just as so many years earlier he had secretly watched his parents fucking, that had thrilled him more than anything else had touched his jaded senses for years and years.
Now he concentrated on tearing Sylvia a new asshole. Like the rest of her, her sphincter ring was thin. The muscle was soft and yielding. Once it was loose and relaxed, she could take his fist in there, not to mention his cock. Still it was almost unbearably hot inside. Still it sucked his cock into the roomy hole behind it like loving lips sucking a thumb.
They were all three sweating profusely now, and the pungent funky fuck smells that drenched the air in the room excited him almost as much as Sylvia's hysterical, unending sounds of, "UURRRRRGGGGGLLUUPPHHH! AAAHHRRRGUULUUUPP! EEEEKUUULLLLPHHGGGUUUGLUUMPHHHH!"
"OOOOHHHHH-SWEET HOLY FUCK!" Carl suddenly roared. "I-I'm C-CUMMINNG! SUCK IT, YOU SWEET, COCKSUCKING WHORE!DRINK IT ALLLLL DOWN!"
"M-MEEE T-TOOOO!" Tom bellowed. "OOOHHH, GAAAHD-DAMN, BUT TH-THISSS ONE IS C-C-COMINNG ALL THE WAY UP FR-FROM MY F-FUCKING T-TOOOOOOESSSS!"
Gushing tears were streaming down Sylvia's brightly flushed cheeks. Silvery strings of snot ran out of both her thin, flaring nostrils. She was shaking like a leaf from head to foot, trembling so hard that her body quaked as though she were undergoing a severe attack of epilepsy.
When Tom finally dragged his softening cock out of her red, swollen asshole, she fell heavily, weakly to her knees on the carpet.
She snuffled a couple of times like a small child just finishing crying. Lifting the back of one hand to her face, she wiped her nose, rubbed it on the carpet, then wiped her eyes. With the other hand she gently, lovingly, squeezed and caressed Carl's still not deflated cock. She licked it spotlessly clean, from top to bottom, then continued licking the head, spearing her tongue tip into the single slitted hole, fishing out the last tiny drop of his dearly beloved jism.
Grinning foolishly, looking from Tom's face back down to the top of her head, Carl seemed to be beside himself, wondering when she would acknowledge the presence of their long-lost friend. Tom smiled and winked at Carl, and put his finger to his lips to indicate that Carl was not to say anything-not rush her. This was exciting to him, too. The very unpredictability of this fascinating woman. Any other female so savagely, unsuspectingly fallen upon and ravished in the manner that Sylvia had just been would have taken this opportunity to get in some long overdue screaming and yelling. Even had the rape thrilled the victim, at the very least, she would have immediately sprang around the second she was able to, in order to see who had done the honors.
After Sylvia had taken her own sweet time and administered to Carl's cock, without first looking around to make sure she was not mistaken, she said huskily, "Thomas Kellerman, you sweet, fucking, beautiful bastard, when did you get back in town? I knew it was you just as soon as I got over the initial shock. Nobody in this world can make such beautiful music in an asshole as you can. Welcome home, lover."
CHAPTER FOUR
Sylvia rested on her hands and knees, sucking Tom's cock while Carl kneeled behind her, slowly, gently fucking her in the ass. The two men were talking over old times, bringing each other up to date on what had transpired in their respective lives over the past three years.
"But why-why-why so suddenly and mysteriously?" Carl asked in response to something Tom had said about his move to California.
"That's just the way it turned out," Tom h-edged.
"But nobody-man, I mean nobodeee-was ever as happily married, as perfectly matched as you and Linda. What was the problem, buddy? You know you can trust Syl and me to keep it right here between us-you know we have never had any secrets from each other, man. We love you-we love you both just as much as we love each other-just as much as we love ourselves. What happened, Tom?"
"We got a divorce," Tom said, "at least Linda did."
"I'll bet you Syl and I have sat up all fucking night for a month of Sundays going over and over the events leading up to your splitting. We reviewed every detail-tried to come up with some sign, some hint of a pending breakup, and we couldn't find a thing-nothing. The last time I saw you or talked to you was that Friday night when our girls got it into their heads to do the thing that you and I wanted them to do, anyway-give us some of that hot, tight, tender, teenaged pussy. And it was a gas, man, wasn't it? Your daughter thinking she was seducing me, my daughter thinking she was seducing you, and us having to play drunk and practically take over the act to help them get up enough nerve to pull it off."
"Yeah, that was some night, alright," Tom agreed.
"Saaaayyy," Carl said, "that wasn't what did it, was it? My God, I know that neither you nor Tina were stupid enough to tell Linda that Pat and I were there that night, and that you and I fucked each other's daughters!"
"No, Linda still doesn't even know that you two were there that night," Tom assured him, "but you came pretty close to hitting it. That night she came home early from her bridge club meeting for the first time-no more than five minutes after you and Pat had pulled out of the driveway, and...."
"Wait-wait," Carl interrupted excitedly. "Goddamn, man, don't tell me that you were stupid enough to let Linda catch you fucking Tina!"
Carl was so exasperated, so shocked by what he knew was the answer to the years long mystery that he jerked his cock out of his wife's asshole, and sprang to his feet. He stood wide legged, with both hands balled into fists at his hips. His lopsided cock was pointing up at Tom's strangely calm face like he was aiming a gun at his friend, but only threatening to shoot off his left ear. When Tom didn't answer immediately, Carl was sure that he was right.
"Oh my God-ohhh my God, why didn't we think of that, honey?" he said to Sylvia. "We sure as hell thought of everything else. Jeezus-fucking-Keeryst, Tom-how could you do a thing like that to Linda? You knew how square she was in certain respects, and you know goddamned well that that was one of them. Oh fuck, this is like learning that your best friend has been arrested for molesting kindergarten kids-all you can think is, how could he have been so goddamned stupid?"
Sylvia pulled her mouth reluctantly away from Tom's cock, and sat back on her heels, looking up into Tom's face with an imploring, say-it-isn't-so sadness in her huge, gray-green eyes.
"You're jumping to conclusions, Carl," Tom finally said quite calmly. "You're jumping to conclusions just like Linda did, and your doing it is no more fair, no less damaging and destructive than her doing it."
"What the fuck do you mean, jumping to conclusions?" Carl argued hotly. "It's as plain as the nose on your face, man. You said we hadn't been gone five minutes. Remember when Pat and I were getting dressed to get out of there-remember you said that Linda wouldn't be home for another hour at the very least-maybe an hour and a half-you said we had plenty more time. Tina was sitting on your lap, and you two were hugging, kissing-she was stroking your cock-you had a couple of fingers up her cunt almost to your shoulder. It's not a very big fucking jump to the conclusion of what Linda caught you two doing when she walked in there five minutes later."
"She caught us standing in the middle of the family room, hugging and kissing," Tom said. "Astute, you are-a private detective, you ain't, ol' buddy. We were about to go our separate ways to separate bathrooms to take showers, get freshened up. I like hugging and kissing my daughters, and they both happen to dig hugging and kissing me. Linda has seen me hugging and kissing both Tina and Cathy hundreds and hundreds of times-tongue action and all. Our whole family walks around naked about as often as we walk around clothed. Consequently, Linda has seen me kissing both Cathy and Tina stark naked just about as often as she has caught us in the act with our clothes on. Your witness, counselor."
"B-but then-wh-what-I-I mean I d-don't understand," Carl stammered.
"Well, I'll make it a little more clear," Tom said. "The family room smelled like a Tiajuana whorehouse on payday night for the Marines. The bath towel that you had used to wipe the sweat from your and Pat's bodies and the jism from your cock and her cunt was draped over my shoulder. My cock was still oozing from the last nut I'd gotten with Pat. Tina's cunt was red, swollen, and your cum was running out of it, down the insides of her thighs. Now...."
"Oh God-OOHH GOD!" Carl cried in interruption, slapping his forehead with an open palm. "Linda only thought that you two had been fucking! But why didn't you set her straight? Wouldn't she even listen-give you a chance to explain what really happened?"
"Ohhh, she gave me a chance to explain, alright," Tom said, "in fact she repeatedly demanded an explanation-over and over and over again."
"Well? Didn't you?"
"Didn't I what-explain to her that: no, I didn't fuck our teenage daughter,. Christina. Our family friend, Carl Forester, fucked Tina on one couch, while all I did was fuck and suck his teenage daughter Patricia on the other couch? That's exactly what happened. Is that what you would have explained to her?"
"Not to Linda," Carl admitted, shaking his head in helplessness, "to Sylvia-yes, and she would have dug it-but not to Linda-oh God, no, never. Oh shit, man, I-I-shit, I feel so goddamned low, so fucking guilty-ashamed. It wasn't your fault-it was my fault-Pat's fault, much more than yours and Tina's. We were the intruders-we were the aggressors. And we fucked up your life, man. We broke up one of the most beautiful marriages in all of creation."
"Don't blame yourself, Carl, and especially not Pat," Tom said. "It was nobody's fault. It was just one of those things that could very easily-and did-happen because of the very nature of our lifestyles, which required that all parties concerned be in complete compliance, and unfortunately, Linda was never in complete compliance.
"You knew that Tina had a crush on you since pre-adolescence, because I told you that myself. I knew that Pat had the hots for me long before she was old enough for me to even consider fucking, because she told me often enough herself. We both agreed that it was alright to fuck each other's daughters, so long as the girls wanted it, were already old enough and already having sex, and knew what they were getting into from every angle and aspect of the situation. Isn't that what we agreed on?"
"Y-yeah," Carl said sheepishly, actually blushing, "but-but I-I guess I cheated a little bit, buddy."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah-you see, I put Pat up to that whole scene that night. Man, I wanted Tina so bad that I just couldn't wait for her to get up enough nerve to approach me. Something else that I never mentioned to you, only because I knew Linda's attitudes, and I felt that if it ever got to her, that she would stop speaking to me and Syl completely, and keep you away from us, too-uuhhh-we got Pat's cherry on her fifteenth birthday."
"We?"
"Yeah-me and Syl. Pat had been saying since she was a little tyke that when she was ready to lose her cherry, that she wanted to lose it to either me or you, Tom, and I was all for it, either way it went. It just so happens that on her birthday she came in and got in bed with me and Syl, and announced that she was ready. I fucked her, and Syl introduced her to the joys of pussy eating. She turned Tina on to Lezzy love, and had Tina ready to come to me to be deflowered also-as they say in romantic novels.
"I just couldn't do that to you, ace. I wanted you in on the action. So what I did was to give Pat the idea to seduce you, and told her to swing Tina around to seducing me at the same time, and that's how that Friday night party got planned."
Tom sat silently for a moment, staring at the floor, recreating in his mind in flashback the events of that Friday night something over three years ago....
("Daddy."
"Yes, Tina?"
"You didn't plan to go anywhere tonight, did you?"
"No, why?"
"Can you help me with a school project that I've got to do?"
"Sure-be glad to. What sort of project?"
"It's for our Psych class-Group Dynamics. We're going to be doing role playing Monday-the generation gap. Some of the kids will take the roles of parents, and the others will take the roles of the offspring, and we're going to let it all hang out-really get stuff off our chests."
"Interesting-and you want to do a warm up with me, hunh-sort of get the feel of it?"
"Well, not just with you. Pat is in the same class, and she and Uncle Carl are coming over to do it with us."
"Well-uhhhh-shouldn't you and I get dressed before they get here?"
"Of course not, we've all seen each other naked. Uncle Carl has seen me when I spend the night at Pat's, and the same goes for Pat when she sleeps over here. This thing is supposed to be completely open and honest-no props like clothing to hide behind."
"Ummmmmm-might turn out to be interesting.")
And later when the four of them were naked, with Tom and Carl sitting on one of the couches, and Tina and Pat standing before them....
("Remember now, you two, the roles are reversed and switched. Daddy, you are Pat, and Pat is your father-she is Carl. Carl is me, and I am you. I'll begin with you, Uncle Carl. Remember now, you're me-my daughter-and you're to answer my questions, or ask me questions as though you actually were my teenaged daughter, and I were your father-ready?"
"Shoot."
"It's your sex life that I'm interested in, Tina-are you still a virgin?"
"Yes, daddy, but only technically."
"What do you mean, only technically."
"Well, I've had all sorts of things up my cunt-my fingers, hairbrush handles, bananas, vibrators, Pat's tongue-everything but an actual male cock."
"Pat's tongue?"
"Sure-we lick each other's cunts all the time. What did you think we do when we sleep together, play jacks and cut out paper dollies?"
"Harummph-uhhh-and Pat-is she still technically a virgin?"
"No, she's fucking, but don't ask me who, because I won't tell. I will tell you, though, she sure as hell wants to fuck you."
"Harummph-haruumph-uhhhh-what gives you that idea?"
"That's all we talk about when we're masturbating and frigging each other, you and Uncle Tom. I want to fuck Uncle Tom. I think he's groovy.")
And the questioning had gone on and on, getting closer and closer to what the girls were leading up to. It had taken Tom awhile to get the drift of things. Then when he finally saw what was up, he was surprised at how much faster Carl had caught on, and the smooth, calculated way he was answering questions in order to keep things moving in the right direction. But then he remembered all the times that he and Carl had discussed fucking each other's daughters, and knew that Carl was just trying to fulfill that wishful dream, not second guess the girls.
When it came Pat's time to question him, he was more than ready for her. Even if she eased up, changed the subject to more discreet and safe ground, he was going to get it back in the groove, make her come back to the subject that all four of them now were at least emotionally into, and if things worked out as hoped, they all would be physically into it before the night was ended....
("Patricia, I was talking to your Uncle Tom, and he tells me that when you and Christina spend the night together, you do more than-uhhh-shall we say-play jacks and cut out paper dollies. Is this true?"
"Oh yes, daddy, it's true-I won't lie to you. We lie in bed together and get so horny talking about you and Uncle Tom that we can't help but start finger fucking each other, sucking each other's titties, licking each other's cunts."
"What do you two say about us that could make you that horny?"
"Ohhh, she talks about you fucking her, and I talk about Uncle Tom fucking me-we both want it so bad, we can hardly stand it."
"Just suppose Uncle Carl actually asked you to give him some pussy, would you actually do it?"
"Has a cat got an ass? Do bears shit in the woods? Is the Pope Catholic? I would fuck him so fast, he wouldn't know what hit him. You and mommy and Uncle Tom are swingers-you fuck and suck complete strangers, and all the time you two dudes have got some of the hottest, tightest, horniest pussy in the world right under your noses-talk about stupid. All you guys have to do is ask, and it's all yours.")
The girls had gradually lost their nerve, and began asking questions just for the sake of keeping the game going, and relieving them of having to put up or shut up. Carl and Tom both had been drinking steadily since the game started, but neither of them were really feeling the effects of the alcohol. However, when Tom saw that the girls were not about to stop playing, and really get down to business, he began to play sloppy drunk, and Carl picked up the cue, and played along with him....
("Ohhhhh, Tina, I'm soooo drunk. We shouldn't have gotten into daddy's whiskey. When I get drunk I get soooo horny I can hardly stand it. If daddy walked in that door now, I swear I would rape him."
"You'd have to beat me to him, and fight me off. I'm drunker than you are, and it has the same effect on me. My pussy starts twitching and burning and flowing when I get drunk like this. Daddy and Uncle Carl are out together, I hope they both come back together, then we wouldn't have to fight-I'd grab one, and you could grab the other."
"Oh-Oh, here they come now-shhhhhhh-I just heard them come in the front door. Hurry, let's hide behind the couch, and when they get down here, we'll jump out and make them fuck the shit out of us.")
They had both leaped behind the couch, grinned, winked, and shook hands in triumph. After a moment they sprang up out of hiding, and began chasing the nervous, giggling girls round and round the room. They didn't really try to catch them, and the girls tried even less hard to get away.
The next thing Tom knew, Carl's 200-pound frame was completely obscuring Tina's little 9 8-pound 5' 2" body on one of the couches. All he could see of her was her smooth, curvy legs, up in the air, clamped tightly against Carl's sides, and her tiny hands gripping his shoulders. The bottoms of her ass cheeks were also visible, and just above her little rosebud of an asshole, Carl's long, thick, left-leaning cock was driving slowly, steadily, relentlessly into her pink, juicy, teeny-weeny cunt.
Tom had hardly noticed that Pat was now on her knees before him, industriously sucking his cock, as he stared wide-eyed and breathless at his giant of a friend fucking his fairy-like little daughter. The scene was grotesque, freakier than anything he had ever seen in his life. The only comparison that he could conjure up was that of a big St. Bernard fucking a little toy poodle. The fact that it was his own daughter, whom he loved more than life itself, was precisely the element that made the situation all the more fascinating. They were kissing with wet, sloppy smacks, between which Tina had moaned, groaned and chanted happily....
("OOOOOOHHHHH-OOOOOHHHHH-UUUUMMMMMMMM-Ohhhh God, Unc-Uncle CCarl-I-I-love your big cock in m-m-meeee. Oh God-OOOOHHHH GOD! I kn-knew it was g-going to be g-g-good-b-bu-but n-not this-this-thisssss gooood. OOOOOHHHH-OOOHHHHHHHH-shit, shit-fuck-fuck-fuck me, Uncle Carl-I love it-love it-LOOOOVEIIIIIIIT!")
Gradually, however, it was what was happening to him that made Tom forget what was happening to Tina. Little Pat was sucking his cock like a champ. No artful, twisty-licky tongue work, no flicking, fluttering tricks, just fabulous, fantastic sucking with a wildly fervent, youthful enthusiasm that caused Tom to fear that she would completely devour his cock. The insides of the girl's jaws were as hot as a furnace. Her mouth was filled with saliva that seemed to be on the verge of boiling. Her lips were soft, wet, rubbery-gripping his cock like a fist, like a slickly oiled vise. Her reddish-blonde pony tail flew as she hammered her head up and down-up and down-on the stalk of delight that she was so joyously sucking.
Like his own daughter, like both their mothers, Pat was extraordinarily pretty. Tall, slender, with a thin, classically beautiful face. Small, out-jutting tits, slim, flaring, round-bottomed ass over endlessly long, slender legs, which accounted for most of her height that was already 5' 9".
Tom had lifted her bodily from the floor, and placed her on the couch on her hands and knees, with her ass hiked in the air before his face. He had dived face first between those luscious, round, baby fat cheeks, which she had instinctively reached back with both hands and spread wide apart for him. The heady, intoxicating smell of her down there drove Tom almost out of his mind. Active, earthy, unconventional teenagers don't make a habit of bathing once-sometimes twice-a day, like their more uptight, conservative, guilt-ridden and brainwashed elders. And Pat had most certainly not bathed in the past twenty-four hours. Her sweaty-funky cunt and asshole contained all the strongest, most lust-enflaming female odors ever assembled in one hairy, female, genital valley. The smell was a pure aphrodisiac, an unadulterated narcotic. Too young and fresh and innocent to be classified a stink, just a pungent, natural, musky perfume, for a tiny bottle of which a true eroticist would have gladly paid thousands of dollars.
Tom had crammed his nose into the crack of her ass, scrubbing it up and down, sniffing and snorting, snuffing up lungs full of the heavenly musk. Then his nose was replaced by his tongue, as he licked her from the base of her spine all the way up to her pubic hair. He smeared his whole face in her crystal clear, honey sweet cunt juice-sucked her oozing, slickly muscled, tongue pinching cunt hole almost wrong side out-licked, sucked, gently nibbled her tiny, swollen clit until her yelps and shrieks drowned out the sounds that were issuing from his daughter's throat on the other couch.
He remembered remembering how young the girls had made him feel that night. Both girls had been still immature, still growing and filling out, still in the process of becoming women. The make-believe game they had played, their frightened withdrawal from following through, the nervous, giggly chase about the room, were all signs of their basic, childish innocence.
And even though Tom wasn't sure, but suspected that she had been fucked before, she had begun trembling in fear as he mounted her. Her already tight little pussy had grown even tighter in fright-induced contraction at the touch of the head, of the biggest cock she had ever seen. And he had had to gently, patiently force his way into the oiled velvet depths of her deep, narrow, little girl's vaginal passage. Her big green eyes had grown bigger and brighter. Her mouth had sprung open and frozen in a startled "O" of wonder at having the giant phallus buried in her clinching love hole all the way to the hairs.
Then suddenly, with the unpredictable exuberance of youth, she had relaxed completely, thrown her long, slender thighs up, open, and down over his shoulders, and with a shriek of pure delight, she had fucked him into a state of shivering, shaking paralysis....
"The only thing that would have happened had I told Linda the truth," Tom unnecessarily explained to his friends, as he returned to the reality of the moment, "is that she would have hated you as much as she now hates me, Carl. She wouldn't have said, 'Oh, now I understand, it was all Carl's fault, I forgive you and Tina, darling, and I apologize for jumping to hasty conclusions.' Sheee-it. She would have made it her business to have gotten us both thrown under the jail for contributing to the sexual delinquency of our minor daughters, and publicly divorced me, anyway. Not only that, but she would have hated all three of you for the rest of her life."
"All I can say is I'm sorry, man-sorry as all shit-can you ever forgive me?"
"Well, that isn't all I can say," Sylvia cried. "I say that this is a shitty, unfair, completely ridiculous situation that should have never come about in the first place, and one that we're going to straighten out this very weekend."
"But how? How?" Carl asked. "You know yourself that Linda won't even speak to us. She has disappeared for the weekend, Tom says, and refuses to see him or Tina, and dares them to try to see each other."
"What did we tell Tom when he asked us how Linda and Cathy were-how they had been doing?"
"We told him the truth-that Linda won't talk to us, and that she has forbidden Cathy to see or talk to us-that we haven't seen either of them for years."
"Yes, that's the truth-as far as it goes. Now tell Tom what we know about Linda and Cathy, even though we haven't seen either of them."
"I'm sorry, buddy," Carl said to Tom, "but I guess we lied to you-or at least didn't tell the whole truth-to save your feelings. But now that we know what a lousy deal you got, I'm going to tell you what's really happening. Your sweet, prudish, holier-than-thou ex-wife, Linda has become a lush and a whore. She spends most of her nights getting smashed in bars, and picking up strange men-singly, in groups, black, white, and all shades in between. No charge-just for kicks. She thinks she is keeping it cool by doing the bars on the other side of town, but everybody in this city knows her by name, reputation, and sexual talents."
"Oh my God," Tom moaned.
"That's not the worst part," Carl went on sadly. "I'm sorry, man, and I hate to tell you this, but I think you should know. If nothing else, you can at least take Cathy away from here with you when you leave again. Everything that Linda is in the bars and motels at night, Cathy is-in spades-in the backseats of cars and at home both day and night. They call her the Queen Bee, and her standing group of teenaged lovers her Drones, and the boys are standing in line to become a Drone."
"Oh my God," Tom groaned again, "what can I do?"
"The first thing I'm going to do is call Pat and get her over here," Sylvia said, rising and heading for the phone. "She helped fuck up this situation and now, by God, she is going to help us un-fuck it up."
CHAPTER FIVE
The exceedingly tall, impossibly beautiful woman that ran down the stairs into the Forester family room had to be Pat, there was no doubt about that.
"Here's Pat, now," Sylvia had said, when she heard the front door slam.
"Uncle Tom-Uncle Tom!" a feminine voice had cried out of sight up in the living room. "Mom! Dad! Where are you all?!"
"Down here!" Tom had called back. "In the family room!" And he had stood up and stepped toward the foot of the stairs to greet her.
Still, when she leaped into his arms from the third step, bent her head down to kiss him, then stepped back to get a good look at his face, Tom stared at her as though he had never seen her before in his life. The change in her was phenomenal.
At 5' 11", she was one inch taller than Tom, and the three-inch platform sandals that she wore pushed her height way past 6'. Her tits were small, but conical, high standing, with long, hard, blunt-tipped nipples that pushed straight out against the thin material of the white tee shirt that she wore. Her waist couldn't have been more than eighteen inches around. The tight, cunt-etching, hip-hugger jeans that she had on hung low and flared out over a wide, sloping ass that was so perfectly, seductively symmetrical that it didn't look real. It looked like a work of art that had been carved by a master sculptor.
Since she had been beautiful even at fifteen, it wasn't the change in her face that had astonished Tom so. It was still Pat's face, alright, only now she was more beautiful than he remembered. Her face was the face of a younger, fresher Grace Kelly, a beauty that was almost queenly. Her waist-length curtain of silky hair was darker than Tom remembered it, a burnished copper that must have been blinding in the sunlight.
Tom stood with a blank, foolish grin frozen on his face, as Pat greeted, hugged, and kissed her parents just as though she hadn't seen them for as many years as she hadn't seen Tom.
When she finally got back to Tom, her questions were the same as her parents' had been: "What happened? Why did you drop out of our lives so suddenly? What brings you back here now? Are you home to stay?" Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
Without being asked to, and with absolutely no sign of embarrassment or hesitancy, Pat swiftly disrobed as she talked to Tom. Everybody else was naked, and she seemed to feel out of place fully clothed.
Tom had been so sickened, so disgusted by what he had heard about Linda and Cathy that when Sylvia had called Pat, fucking the girl was the farthest thing from his mind. Bringing the sordid mess of that fateful night out into the open had caused him to have serious second thoughts about his lifestyle, made him wonder if the conventional and strait-laced people of the world were not right after all. But the sight of Pat's naked beauty caused his cock to spring to rigid, throbbing attention, and his newly found moral resolve to melt like so much snow in the summer sun.
"That fuck was the best fuck of my life, before or after," Pat reminisced with a wistful smile on her face as she lay down beside Tom on the long, low, wide couch. "Stan, my lover, the guy I'm living with now, has a cock that is just as big as yours, and he knows how to use it. He makes me cum like a string of Chinese firecrackers. We fuck as often as mom and dad used to fuck-day and night-every day and night. But it has never been as good with Stan as it was that night with you, Uncle Tommy. Do you know what you've got to do now?"
"What?" Tom croaked huskily.
"You've got to either confirm my belief that you are the world's best cocksman, or completely dispel my childhood dream-fantasy-memory, so I can relax and enjoy other cocks without comparing them with the memory of yours, and finding them consistently wanting."
With such an ego-inflating challenge to spur him on, there was no doubt in Tom's mind but that he would perform with this ungodly lovely creature like he had never performed in his life. To add fuel to the fire, Carl had sat down on the opposite couch next to Sylvia to watch. Tom performed best with an audience, and this particular audience gave the scene that piquant air of freakiness that to him was completely irresistible.
He had already twisted his body to face Pat, and dropped his head between her raised and spread thighs. He was staring hungrily at her beautiful, longlipped, deeply gashed cunt. The knobby-headed nubbin of her long, sheathed clit sat fat and sassy above the thick, protruding, chewed-looking, purplish-pink inner lips. When he had fucked her before, her coppery, curly cunt hair had been long, but sparse. Now it was a veritable jungle of musky, spun silk, running down the insides of her thighs, and up the deep, sweaty crack of her ass. He had never forgotten the heady young smell of her genital area that night. It was one of his fondest, most excitingly pleasant memories. Now, as his nostrils flared, and his mouth watered with the explosion of incredibly funky perfume that hit his senses like a closed fist, he realized that her immature, just blossoming, female odor had been only a preview to this main attraction, an appetizer to this glorious feast of olfactory delight.
"Ohhh shit, I'm sorry, Tommy," Pat said, actually pushing his head away, and trying to sit up. "I should have known that you would want to suck my pussy, but when mom said that you were here, I simply tore out of there without bathing. I took a shower this morning, but I've played tennis, gone horseback riding, and fucked twice today. In fact, Stan and I had just finished fucking when the phone rang, and when he came in me, I simply wiped my cunt with a tissue. The goo must be still pouring out down there. Let me up, and I'll clean up for you right quick."
"If you put a drop of water on your ass, I'll break your goddamn neck," Tom growled, pushing her hands away, forcing her back down on her back, and burying his face in her cunt valley.
Her pussy was just as hot as he remembered it. Even before he moved his mouth down from her clit, he felt the heat escaping from the banked furnace of her fuck hole like dry desert wind on his face. The load of jism that Stan had pumped deeply into her dank, dark maw of womanhood was still piping hot, and as sweet and sour as an exotic Chinese meat sauce. Tom sucked as though he were sucking the pulp through a hole in the peel of a fat Florida orange. He licked her up and down-up and down. He lifted and spread her ass, and bathed the hot, dark, steamy valley with his whole tongue. He licked the thick anal hair wet, slick and flat against the fleshy valley floor. He licked her asshole as clean as though his saliva were soap, and his busy tongue a washcloth.
He speared his tongue so deeply into her tiny, suctioning rear entrance that it ached at the roots. Moving back up front, he concentrated on tongue lashing her clit. Now he would no longer be distracted by the smell that he had licked almost completely away, leaving only the hint of odors trapped in her pubic hair to remind him that it was indeed a cunt he was sucking, and not a delicious tropical fruit.
"Ummmmmmmm-ummmm-oooooohhhhhhh-aaaaaahhhhh-oohhh-ooo-so goood-yes-ahhhhh-ummmmmm-goood-gooooood," Pat began moaning in a low key, bumping and grinding her loins up at his mouth as Tom caught her clit between lip-cushioned teeth, and began fluttering his tongue over the sensitive, mini-dickhead.
Lick it, Tom dar-linnnggg-jjust like that-ohhhhh-like that-like that-N-no harder-no-no f-faster-don't m-make me c-cum too fast-le m-meeee enjoy it!"
Tom heard, but paid no heed to the ecstatic girl's frantically whispered pleading. Though pleasing his partner was part and parcel of every sex act he indulged in, he was convinced that sucking pussy was much more pleasureful to him-the sucker, than to any woman-the suckee. The fact that they had orgasm after screaming orgasm was just a lucky happenstance, that wasn't his primary purpose. His purpose was to lick until his tongue went numb, suck until his jaws ached, and he simply didn't know how to "take it easy."
Now, he was moving into high gear-sucking the thick, wrinkled, chewed bubble gum looking inner lips, slipping his tongue into her cunt hole to ladle out the flowing juices-clamping his open mouth there to suck out what was left-but always returning to the clit-eating it, beating it, doing tricks with his flying, flashing tongue that were designed to heighten his pleasure, but never failed to drive his women out of their minds.
"EEEEEEEEEKKK!-OOOOWWWWWWW-YYYIIIIIIEEEEEEEKKK!-OOOOHHHH GOD!OOOOOOHHHHHH MYYYYY GOD! I'M CUMMING!-OOOOHHHH, I'M C-CUMMING, I'M CUMMMINNNG! I-I-YIII-YIIIEEE CAN'T S-SSSSTAND IT! SSSSSTOP-OHHHH, PLEEEEEEEZE-SSSSSTOP, TOMMMMMYYYYYYYI'LL GO C-CR-CRA AAA AZZZZZ Y YY YYY! OOOOHHHHHH GOD-HELP MEEEEE! H-H-HELL LLLP MEEEE, D-DADDYYYYY-MAKE HIM SSSSTOP, BEORE I DIEEEEEEEE!"
And suddenly Tom stopped what he was doing and leaped to his knees. Unceremoniously grabbing her thighs, he jerked them high and wide over his shoulders, and while she was still screaming, writhing, and bucking in the throes of her violent, endless orgasm, he slammed his cock into her spasming cunt with all his might.
This was a trick that he had learned as a teenager, a trick that had given him the reputation of a master cocksman, and one that he had improved upon over the years, though he only used it on special occasions. The tactic was all the more his private innovation, because he had hit upon it quite by accident, and he still couldn't explain exactly why it was so unfailingly effective.
At the age of fifteen, he was dating Jeanne Winslow, a seventeen-year-old sex-pot two classes ahead of him in high school. At this time he had still had a hopeless, flaming sexual crush on his own mother, and though Jeanne was the prettiest girl in the whole school, and all the boys were drooling after her, it wasn't Jeanne who kept Tom hanging around her house at every opportunity. It was Dorothy Winslow, Jeanne's forty-year-old big-titted, brewery horse assed mother who drove young Tom up the walls. Mrs. Winslow was a friendly, pretty, socially active matron, married to the President of the First National Bank.
One Saturday afternoon when Tom had had a swimming date with Jeanne, he arrived almost an hour early just for the purpose of oogling Dorothy's big, sweet ass under the mini-dresses' and hot pants that she wore around the house. Jeanne was on an errand, and had told her mother that if Tom arrived early, she was to entertain him until she got back.
Dorothy was wearing a loose mini-dress with nothing on under it, as Tom discovered as soon as she sat down opposite him with her fat thighs spread widely apart. The story she had given Tom was, she didn't want Jeanne having sex at her age (though Jeanne had told Tom on their very first date that she was on the Pill, with her mother's approval). But she understood a young, healthy boy's needs, and if he just had to have it, she would be happy to....
Without even waiting for her to finish her blatant proposition, Tom was up out of his chair, and down on his knees before the couch on which Dorothy sat, with his entire face buried in her powdered and perfumed cunt.
She had cum again and again with loud, piercing shrieks, and much beating of Tom on the top of his head to dislodge him from his long dreamed of prize. They heard Jeanne pull into the driveway, and Dorothy had cried, "Oh God-stop-quick-here's Jeanne-oh God-oh God-I'm still cumming-I-I can't s-s-stop!"
Tom had been on the verge of cumming himself just from sucking Dorothy's pussy, and he wasn't about to be denied the thrill of driving his bone-hard cock into the lusty matron's cunt merely because her daughter happened to pull into the driveway.
Jumping to his feet, he had snatched his cock out of his fly, flipped Dorothy's fat, creamy thighs over his shoulders, and plunged his cock into her streaming cunt with all of his lust-crazed, young strength.
The only reason Jeanne hadn't heard her mother's ear-splitting scream was because she had her car radio turned up as loud as it would go, listening to a popular rock and roll recording. The only reason she didn't stroll into the house and catch them in the act was because she had sat listening to the next record, and the next, and the next, for the remaining fifteen minutes that the program was on the air.
Dorothy had persuaded Tom to quit his job as bag boy in the local super market, and paid him $50 a week just to tend to her lawn, wash her windows, and most of all, give her bigger and better orgasms. Tom had happily held the job until he moved away to live with his aunt in Caimbert almost three years later.
Now, some twenty-five years after that stroke of accidental genius with Dorothy, Tom noted happily that the technique was still working as well as it ever had. Pat's wall-shaking scream was music to his ears. She flipped and flopped and fought his nerve-destroying cock like a big-mouthed bass fighting a fisherman's well-anchored hook.
"OOOOHHHHH!-EEEEEEEKKKKKK-OOOHHH-OOOOHHHH-J-JJEEEEEZUS-JJJEEEE ZZZZUSSSS-EIIinHEEEEEEEKKKK! I C-CAN'T SSSSTAND IT, I T-TELL YOUUUUUUU! OOOOHHHH GOD-MOMMYYYY-D-DADDD YYYY-H-HELLLP-M-M-MAKE H-HIM SSSSSSTOP! HELLLLLP MEEEEEEEEYOWWWWWW!"
But Tom was firmly in the saddle, and he fully intended to ride this frantic young filly to a standstill. Her twisting and bucking only succeeded in jamming his cock deeper into her panic-tightened, orgasm-spasming fuck hole. Tom stroked masterfully, steadily, deeply-hitting her womb on every lunge-knocking another cum bomb loose and into violent explosion on every pounding dick head-womb contact-piling orgasm on top of orgasm, until there was no separation between them, just one long drawn-out unbroken string of unbearable ecstasy.
Both Carl and Sylvia leapt up from their couch, and dashed over to Tom and Patricia. Tom thought that they were answering Pat's hysterical screams for help. He expected Sylvia to begin beating him about the head and shoulders, Carl to hurl him bodily from the depths of his daughter's tormented, violated love chalice. Instead, he almost screamed himself as he felt the split slick dagger of Sylvia's tongue arrow unerringly into his asshole. He gasped when he saw Carl grab not him, but Pat by the hair, twist her contorted face into position, and slam his thick cock viciously into her gullet, cutting her off in mid-scream.
Sylvia's hot, wet, busy tongue licking the crack of his ass-spearing in and out of his asshole-curling around his swinging balls-almost drove him bananas. He was amazed at her ability to move her face, her mouth, her tongue in time with the rhythm of his dancing hammering ass, but never for a moment were her lips and tongue not licking, sucking, thrilling him to his toes.
Pat's pussy was tighter, hotter, jucier, better than he remembered it. In spite of her earlier, anguished screams, and her trying vainly to scoot out from under him, never once had she ceased whipping that frothy, sucking, vise-like fuck hole on him. Now that her father's cock had choked off her screams, the sounds that she was making were similar to the sounds that Sylvia had made earlier, when he and Carl were working her over. Pat's sounds, though, were obviously noises of pure pleasure.
Tom stared down at the wet, spittle-oozing, coral pink lips strained tightly around the cock that shot mercilessly, savagely, smoothly in and out of her receptive, sucking mouth. Suddenly the question that had bothered him a few minutes earlier was answered. His way of life was the only way of life for him. It was pleasure filled, and as far as he was concerned, as right as rain. Fuck the conventional, brainwashed cretins who considered his way of life sick, perverted, illegal, and immoral. He was the happiest creature alive. He was actually living out his most wildly erotic fantasies, a thrill that few men ever experienced in their lifetimes of frustration, guilt, and shame.
So what if things had gone wrong-fallen apart that night three years ago. Up until that night he had had over fifteen years of a nearly perfect marriage, and his sex with Carl and Sylvia had only served to make it even more so. Other marriages, marriages between strictly conventional, monogomous couples, often ended in divorce long before fifteen years, so why should he continue to punish himself with the thought that it was his sexual lifestyle that was the only reason his marriage had broken up.
When he had met Carl, almost twenty years earlier, when they both were beginning teachers at Central High, they had become friends immediately when they discovered how much alike they were in their sexual desires and inclinations. Like him, Carl was a complete and happy voyeur, and like him, Carl loved nothing more than watching people whom he loved dearly and intimately fucking and being fucked. After school on the very first day that they met, Tom had gone home with Carl and fucked Sylvia for hours and hours, while Carl watched, joined in, and stopped to watch some more.
Most of their colleagues, both male and female, had been married, and most of them had been miserable. Separation and divorce were common occurrences and sneaking around behind their mates' backs to get some satisfying sex was a way of life. Now that the flame had been rekindled-now that the fabulous, fucking, uninhibited friendship had been revived, Tom was bound and determined to take up where he left off three years ago-with or without Linda.
Greg and Cathy had been fucking too happily, too lovingly, too enthusiastically for him to imagine that theirs was merely a one-time, chance encounter that neither of them would want to repeat. His love for Tina and her love for him had been too deep, too genuine, and too frankly, mutually sexual for her to have lost all desire for him. He was going to get his kids back, even if he further alienated his ex-wife in the process. He was going to fuck Cathy as well as Tina, and he knew that he wouldn't have too much trouble convincing Greg to join in on the family fun.
Now, however, he felt an orgasm rising and tingling in his balls, and he cut off all other thoughts and concentrated on making this a good one.
CHAPTER SIX
Pat was as shocked and surprised as her parents had been when she heard the real reason for the divorce. Like her father, she had blamed herself for the break-up, and begged Tom to forgive her.
"There is nothing to forgive-it wasn't your fault," Tom insisted. "According to the rules of our society, what we did that night was wrong, and had to be punished-so I was punished-no big deal, that's the chance I took."
"Bullshit!" Pat snorted. "Fuck the rules of this hypocritical, sick society. Our society is always raving and wringing its hands over the so-called break-up of the American family, and crying that love among family members is the only answer. Yet, of all the kids I went to school with, outside of Tina and Greg, I didn't know a single one-not one, single, solitary one who honestly loved his or her parents, and vice-versa. Some of them gave lip service to loving their parents, but most of them flat out said that they couldn't stand their parents, and none of them could wait to get the hell grown and away from their parents as fast and as far away as possible.
"Some of my girlfriends were beat damn near to death by their fathers for fucking, and they were the very ones who were fucking like crazy, and catching VD and getting knocked up by the dozens. Mom and Dad loved me, and I loved them. Mom and Dad loved every possible aspect of sex, and both of them were honest, truthful, loving enough to show me, explain to me, teach me all the incredible beauty of sex, and to want me to love it as much as they did. I don't know if they told you or not, but they both got my cherry when I turned fifteen and that night was the most heavenly night of my life. I've never loved them more,, and I know they have never loved me more than that night.
"Now just suppose-just suppose-that for some strange reason the local preacher or some cop had stumbled into that bedroom while Daddy was gently, lovingly, thrillingly fucking me in the ass, and I was going crazy with joy as I licked Mommy's cunt. Can you imagine what would have happened?"
"Of course," Tom snorted. "Carl and Sylvia would have been thrown in prison, and you would have been stuck in some juvenile home for wayward girls."
"Now can you-by the wildest stretch of your imagination-conceive of me sitting in that theoretical juvenile home telling myself such unadulterated shit as, 'I did wrong, and I'm being punished'? Shit, shit, and more shit! We didn't do a goddamned thing wrong that night, nor did you and Tina do anything wrong on that Friday night. Even if you had been fucking, it wouldn't have been wrong. I love Aunt Linda-always will-but if anybody was wrong that night, it was she, not us. My apology was not because I felt that I had done something wrong, but because I played a part in the break-up, no matter whose fault it was. Not only did I help break up the marriage of two people that I love with all my heart, but I lost my very best friend. I haven't seen or heard from Tina since that night, and I still miss her terribly."
"Tina will be here tomorrow," Tom said, "shortly after noon."
"She will?" Pat shrieked happily. "Wonderful! Fabulous! I can't wait to see her! And you-will you be staying now? Are you and Aunt Linda going to get back together?"
"That's why I called you over here," Sylvia interrupted before Tom could answer. "Since you admit yourself that you shoulder at least part of the blame for their break-up, we thought you ought to be here to try and help them back together."
"Sure, I'll do anything I can-anything in the world," Pat said without hesitation. "What are we going to do?"
"That's the problem," Carl said. "We really don't know where to start. It would be no problem at all to find Linda-just cruise the sleaziest bars, where the horniest males hang out, and there she'll be. But she doesn't want to see either Tom or Tina. That's why her orders were that Tom come tonight and leave in the morning, and Tina come tomorrow afternoon and leave tomorrow night, if they both wanted to see Greg once more before he left for Africa."
"What? Left for Africa? Is Greg here now?" Pat asked excitedly.
"No," Carl said, glancing at his watch, "it's just 11:15, and his plane isn't due in until-what time did you say, Tom?"
"I said sometime around midnight, but I lied," Tom replied. "I just pulled that answer out of the air. It was my own flight that was supposed to come in so much later, but I took an earlier flight than scheduled so I could spend more time with my kids. Greg got in-shit, I don't know-late this afternoon, or early this evening."
"What?" Carl asked with raised eyebrows. "What do you mean, he is here already-has been since before I ran into you tonight? What the fuck were you doing sitting drinking in the Flamingo if you wanted to see him?"
"I had already seen him, but he hadn't seen me," Tom said. "I was in the Flamingo, because I didn't want to disturb them."
"Disturb them? Disturb who? Come on, man, talk sense. I don't understand a fucking thing you're trying to say."
"I've still got my house keys," Tom began, "and, like I said, I got here on a much earlier flight than was planned. My plane landed at 6:00 p.m. I took a cab home from the airport, and let myself in the front door. The only light in the house was in the master bedroom. The bedroom door was wide open, the stereo was blasting, and Greg and Cathy were lying across Linda's bed, fucking their goddamned brains out.
"What was I supposed to do, give them both a sound thrashing, and tell them not to let me catch them fucking each other again? Was I supposed to tap Greg on the shoulder, and ask, 'May I cut in?' Was I supposed to call to them, 'Hey, kiddies, Daddy's home from California-come out and talk to me when you're finished fucking?' Hell, I was a screaming bundle of mixed emotions. I didn't know whether to shit or go blind. So I just got the fuck out of there, and ended up in the Flamingo."
"Well, I'll be a son of a bitch," Carl said. "I'll just be a son of a bitch. So what are you going to do now?"
"Well, my plane is supposed to be here at 2:30 a.m. They know this, so when I get there on schedule in a cab, they'll be freshly bathed, fully clothed, and sitting in the living room waiting for my arrival. I'll walk in like I don't know from nothing, and we will talk over old times and future plans like nothing out of the ordinary had happened."
"Yeah-yeah, I guess that's about all you can do," Carl agreed.
"No, it isn't," Pat said. "This is priceless-classic-just what the doctor ordered."
"What do you mean, dear?" Sylvia asked.
"Look, we're out to get that family back together again, aren't we?"
"Sure-but...?"
"But, nothing. We want it all right down front, and out in the open. No more sneaking, sliding, and hypocrisy. We know that our way is the best way-the happiest way-the only way-for us, and we want the Kellermans to come back into our lives without any bullshit-right?"
"Right-right."
"Okay, so this is a perfect start. Greg and Cathy are already fucking each other, and apparently loving it. So we take it from there. Instead of closing our eyes and pretending it never happened, let's get them over here, and let's all orgy our asses off with them to celebrate their new-found togetherness."
"But weren't you listening, honey?" Carl asked. "They are at home waiting for their father's arrival."
"So what? Haven't you old folks got any imagination left? Have you forgotten how to fabricate little white lies to get things going the way you want them? Daddy, get on the phone right quick, and call over there. Tell Greg that Tom called you from California, and told you that he was taking an earlier flight so he could spend a few hours with you and Mommy before going home to see Greg and Cathy. What happened was, you old folks celebrated your reunion a little too hard, and wet, and now Tom is here passed out from all the booze. Tell him that you want to see him and Cathy, anyway, so they are to scoot over here, say 'hello,' at least, and haul their drunk-assed old man home."
The plan was laughingly approved, and immediately put into action. Fifteen minutes later the front door chimes rang, and Pat went upstairs to usher Greg and Cathy down into the family room.
The Foresters were all now more or less dressed. Pat had gone to the closet in her old room, hauled out a too short, too tight mini that she had worn years ago, and wiggled her way into it. Carl had on a maroon silk dressing gown, belted at the waist, and Sylvia was once more nearly naked in the filmy, see-through pegnoir that she had shrugged out of earlier, when Carl had brought Tom to the house.
For the first few minutes the reunited friends kissed and hugged, and made the typical reunion small talk. The main topic of conversation soon became how the kids had grown, how beautiful and sexy Cathy had become, and how Greg had changed so much that he was completely unrecognizable.
"It's not just the beard and mustache, or your height that makes the difference," Carl said, shaking his head and staring at the handsome young man, "though that in itself is enough to have let you walk past me on the sidewalk without my being able to recognize you. It's more-more. Are you sure this is really your brother, Cathy?"
"Oh yes," Cathy grinned. "That's my big brother, alright. It's his nose that's throwing you-it even threw me. It's crooked-it's been broken."
"Ohhhh, yesss," Carl said, laughing, "I knew it was something-that classic Kellerman nose has been smashed. What happened to it, son?"
"Got thrown from a horse, and landed on it," Greg said; "nothing as glamorous and macho as a car wreck or a fist fight."
It was Cathy who finally asked, "Where's Daddy?"
"Upstairs in the master bedroom, passed out cold," Sylvia said, "or at least he was the last time we looked. Why don't you run up and see if he is coming around, while I get reacquainted with this gorgeous brother of yours. It's not just his nose that's throwing me, it's everything about him. I'm gonna see if I can get him to throw me just a little bit harder, then do something groovy about it once he gets me down."
"I'll go up with you, Cathy," Pat offered. "I've got to pee."
Arm in arm with Pat, Cathy ran up the stairs, and around the hall to the master bedroom. She pushed the cracked open door inward, and gasped in shock at her father lying on his back in bed, stark naked, snoring loudly, with the gigantic flag pole of his cock standing straight up in the air. Patricia giggled.
"My God," Cathy whispered in awe, "I've seen lots of cocks in my life, but never one as big as Daddy's. My God, it's as big as that porno, star's-uhhh-what's his name-uhhhh-John Holmes."
"It is gorgeous, isn't it?" Pat leaned down to whisper in the young girl's ear. "And believe me, it feels about 100 times better than it looks."
"Have you fucked him?" Cathy asked breathlessly.
"God, yes. Why do you think he took that early flight? Certainly not just to see Daddy. He fucked the piss out of me and Mommy both from the time he got here, until he passed out, just before we called you two."
"But where was Uncle Carl?" Cathy asked, still whispering as though she were afraid of awakening her father. "Didn't he-uhhh-mind?"
"Mind? Shit, he was fucking us just as hard as Uncle Tommy. Mommy and I don't play favorites."
"Wait-wait-do you mean that your Daddy actually fucks you-right in front of your motherand-and-it's alright?"
"Of course. We've been doing it together for years-every since I was fifteen."
"My God, I really envy you," Cathy whispered. "I've been head over heels in love with both Daddy and Greg all of my life. If I could, I would hate Mommy for divorcing Daddy-but I can't-I'm just not the hating kind. But if he'll take me, I'm going back to California with him, and somehow-somewhere along the way, I'm going to get the message across to him that my pussy is his for the taking. Oh God, I'd gladly die tomorrow, if I could just gorge myself on Daddy's lovely cock tonight."
"How about Greg?"
"What about him?"
"I mean-uhhh-would you fuck him?"
"I'll tell you a secret if you promise not to tell." Cathy giggled.
"Cross my heart," Pat said solemnly.
"Greg and I have been fucking all night-fucking and sucking every since he got home at about 5:30."
"No kidding?"
"No kidding. I was still sucking his cock when Uncle Carl called a few minutes ago. I lied when I said I'd never seen a cock as big as Daddy's. Greg's is longer-thicker. I measured it, it's eleven inches long, and seven inches around-bigger around then my wrist."
The girls were now talking in normal, conversational tones, seemingly having forgotten the pretending-to-be-passed-out Tom.
"My God, girl, and do you mean you can take all of that?"
"Shit yes," Cathy said proudly. "I can even deep throat it, and take it in my asshole just as easily as in my cunt."
"Was tonight your first time doing it with him?" Pat asked.
"Yes, but it wouldn't have been if Mommy hadn't divorced Daddy. We were all extremely close and loving, especially us kids and Daddy. But Greg and I were the closest of all, because we were the youngest. He used to sneak up to my room almost every night, and we'd do everything that we were big enough to do. We'd masturbate each other, and in front of each other. He'd' lick my little hairless pussy, and I'd suck as much of his dick into my mouth as I could handle. He tried to get it in me, but it just wouldn't work in either hole. My cherry was too thick, and I didn't know how to relax my asshole. But I was going to give it to him-everything-and I promised him that I would, just as soon as we both got the hang of it. But Mommy knocked the bottom out of our world by divorcing Daddy, and Greg moved to Minnesota before we got around to really getting it on."
"Well, did you save your cherry for him like you promised?"
"No, and I blame Mommy for that, too."
"What do you mean-how was she to blame?"
"Her hypocrisy-her lying-her whole sick scene."
"What was the deal?"
"After Greg left, I tried to get closer to her, because she was all that I had left. But she became more and more bitchy, bossy, and mean to me. She treated me like I was the one who broke up the family-not her. She forbade me to date, swore that she'd put me in a home if she found out that I was fucking-made me be home and in bed by 9:00 every night-including weekends. I really didn't mind that, because after Greg, I couldn't stand those creepy little jerks at school."
"But after awhile I discovered that as soon as I went to bed, she left the house, and didn't get back until the wee hours of the morning-usully falling down drunk, with her clothing and hair a total mess. What would you have thought in such a situation?"
"That she was out drinking and fucking."
"Give the lady a big ceegar. That's exactly what she was doing. I hired a private detective to check her out for five nights, Monday to Friday, at a cost of $100 per night plus expenses. The whole deal cost $750, and it was worth it, especially since it was Mommy's money that I used to pay the dude. She's hitting Daddy for an outlandish alimony-$1,000 a month, and she keeps fifty and hundred dollar bills stuffed in drawers, under her mattress-all over the place, so I just got the loot out of her stash, and she never missed it.
"Anyway the detective came up with documented evidence that knocked me for a loop. Monday night she went to a motel with three young black dudes. They went in at 12:45 a.m., and came out at 4:57 a.m. Tuesday night she took on two bartenders and the manager of a bar after closing time in the manager's office. Wednesday it was just two guys in the backseat of a car out at Lookout Point. Thursday hardly counts, because she really didn't know what she was doing. Some dudes either put a knockout drop in her drink, or simply kept feeding her drinks until she passed out, then they took her out in the parking lot of the bar, dumped her in the backseat of a car, and had themselves a free for all. They went back in and got their friends, and before morning, fifteen guys had fucked her. Friday she just went out and had a couple of drinks, and didn't get fucked at all."
"So that's when you started fucking?"
"Not really-not immediately, anyway. But I did start dating heavily, I tried beer, pot, booze, the whole bit, and couldn't stand any of it, so I dropped the scene right quick. I did a lot of heavy petting and prick teasing, and I had all kinds of guys after me-_ especially older boys-but nothing was really happening. Believe it or not, I was fifteen before I got a real live cock in my cunt."
"Do tell."
"Because of my heavy dating and partying, usually with several guys, they started calling me the Queen Bee around school, and my dudes the Drones. And naturally everybody thought I was fucking them all. Word got back to Mom, and she hit the ceiling. She called me every filthy name she could think of, even slapped me, and I said fuck it, I've got the name, I may as well get the game, and I went hog-wild. I fucked my Drones day and night, and any number could play."
"You really had a ball, hunh?"
"Not really-the first really enjoyable fuck of my life was tonight with Greg. I fucked those other guys because they wanted to fuck me-because I wanted to get back at Mom. Ohhh, their cocks felt good in my mouth, cunt, and asshole-but-but I was into it for all the wrong reasons, I guess. I very rarely had an orgasm, and when I did, I had to work so hard for it, that it just never was really satisfying-know what I mean?"
"I think so."
"I need love, Pat. Pm crazy about cock-can't get enough-but if there is no love involved, fucking and sucking finally becomes what the blue noses and religious nuts call it-dirty, degrading. And it's too good-too beautiful--too wonderful to allow it to sink into that category."
"Girl, you're a philosopher, and I dig your philosophy."
"Are you guys gonna help us? You, Uncle Carl and Aunt Syl? Please, Pat, please help us get back together again like it used to be-like it is with you three now."
"Of course we're going to help you," Pat said. "That's exactly why you are here now. That's why I came up here with you, instead of letting you come up by yourself. I wanted to give Mom a chance to get to work on Greg, and unless I miss my guess, she and Greg are getting it on right now like a honeymoon couple, and in some form or fashion, Daddy is egging them on."
"Did we-uhhh-come up here to-uhhh-try to do something with Daddy?"
"Oh, we've got all sorts of options and possibilities." Pat grinned, reaching down to grab the hem of her too tight dress, and worry it up and off her body. "Why don't you get out of those clothes while we explore them."
"Oh goody, goody," Cathy burbled childishly, unzipping her mini-skirt, and stepping out of it, ripping her blouse up over her head and tossing it aside. "You can do me, I can do you-or we both can do each other-or we both can do daddy-or...."
"You're getting the idea." Pat laughed, crawling into bed on her knees, and flopping over on her back beside Tom. "You ever make it with a chick before?"
"Not yet," Cathy said, "but I want to. I'm going to with you tonight-but-but-Daddy's cock is still hard," she sighed, fairly leaping into the big water bed straddling her father's thighs, and grabbing his cock to guide it into her yearning young cunt, "and I've got to have it in my pussy first. I've waited so long-soooooo looooonnnnnng!"
CHAPTER SEVEN
"What the hell are Cathy and Pat doing up there?" Greg asked, craning his neck to try to peer up the stairs. "They've been up there thirty minutes already."
"One of two things," Sylvia said with a laugh, "either that insatiably horny daughter of ours is sucking little Cathy's cunt wrong side out, or they are both reversing the traditional roles, and gang-banging your father."
"You g-got-ta be k-kidding," Greg said, actually blushing.
"No, I'm not kidding," Sylvia said, "but forget them. Whatever they're doing, I don't hear either one of them calling down here for help. Go on, you were telling us about the sexual arrangements in that commune you were in. Don't change the subject when it just starts getting good."
"It was actually a bad scene," Greg said. "This buddy of mine came back from up there telling me what a fantastic life they led. Back to nature, everybody sharing everything, no jealousy, no possessiveness, no ownership, everybody fucking everybody and digging it. He wasn't actually lying-in fact, that's just the way it was. The only problem was, all the participants were lonely, mixed-up, love hungry kids who simply could not fill each other's most pressing need, which was pure and simply-love.
"I am really, truly a loving person. I can love several people deeply and sincerely and equally. For instance, I love you and Carl as much as I love Mom and Dad. I love Pat as much as I love Tina and Cathy, and I've got lots more left over for anyone else who touches my life as closely and intimately as you have. The thing that fucked up the scene at the commune, though, was the fact that those kids could handle the fucking, but they couldn't handle the love. They confused the two.
"There were usually about five girls and seven or eight guys living on the farm in this big two-story house that we had. We worked hard during the day, but we fucked like crazy during the night. Since I love to fuck I guess more than anybody in the world, I'd sometimes fuck all five girls between dusk and dawn. And I didn't just like fucking them, I really cared about them. The upshot of the deal was, the girls hung on me to the exclusion of the other guys. They'd actually have fist fights over who would get in my bed first at night. They wouldn't let another boy touch them, until they saw that I had chosen another partner, and it created bad vibes all over the place. So I finally said to hell with it, and decided to take off for Africa."
"Is that Africa thing definite-settled-you mean, you're really going?" Carl asked.
"Only if I can't get my family back together," Greg said. "That was my real reason for coming back. You see, Carl, all that I am, all that I will ever be, I have Mom and Dad to thank for it. I love myself, I'm happy with myself, and the more I see of people who were raised in more conventional families, the more convinced I am that what our family had going was more than worth saving. I still don't know what caused the divorce, but I intend to find out. I don't even know exactly where Tina is, but if she comes home to see me, I'll never lose contact with her again. I'm going to really give it that old college try. If it doesn't work, I'm joining the Peace Corps."
Sylvia got up from where she had been sitting on the arm of Carl's chair, and walked over to kiss Greg soundly on the mouth, catching his tongue as he returned the kiss, and sucking it gently.
"You're not joining anybody's fucking Peace Corps," she said when the kiss was broken, "that is, unless you consider a piece of my ass, Pat's ass, Cathy's ass, Tina's ass-and hopefully, even Linda's ass-your own private piece corps."
"I'm not as square as you might think, Syl," Greg said. "I'm quite aware that your cunt is mine for the taking, and I'm pleased and flattered as all shit, and I fully intend to take advantage of the offer. But-but-goddamnit, I'm so fucked up with all this mystery, indecision-this--this whole .problem of my family situation that even though I've got a hard-on right now, and could fuck until this time tomorrow-I'm just not into it."
"Get out of those pants," Sylvia said, "and let's see if we can get you into it."
"Wait, Aunt Syl," Greg protested, "don't pressure me. Just give me a minute to explain where I'm coming from. When I got home tonight I fucked Cathy, and it was the absolute best fuck of my life-bar none. Everything about it was perfect. We both had been waiting for it for years, and it brought us right back to where we were three years ago, only now we could really do something about it, and we did-oh God, did we ever.
"I keep remembering how Pat and Tina used to let me watch them masturbate, and suck each other's cunts. It was the biggest turn-on of my young life. But to them I was just a kid, and they said I'd have to grow up before they'd let me fuck them, that they wanted Dad and Uncle Carl to fuck them first. And to me that was beautiful, natural, and fantastic. Now, if it were Pat and Tina trying to get me in the sack, they wouldn't even have to try-we'd be fucking right now like there were no tomorrow.
"But do you see what I'm trying to say? That would be a continuation of our old lives-a taking up where we left off like with me and Cat. Fucking you now would be more a diversion-a-a-distraction. Enjoyable-yes, but getting me no closer to what I came home for. Put me in a situation that leads to getting us back together again-I mean all of us-both families-and you'll damned well see more action than even you can handle."
"Well, that's a condition that we shouldn't have too much trouble satisfying," Sylvia said, grabbing Greg by the hand and pulling him to his feet. "You want some togetherness-togetherness is exactly what you're going to get."
"Wh-Where are we going?" Greg asked.
"Upstairs to join Tom and the girls," Sylvia answered. "I'm sure that by now that father of yours has come around and has one or both of them already badly in need of some help-some rest-a new and different cock to bring them down out of the clouds."
The Forester master bedroom was a huge, carpeted, semi-circular affair dominated by a round, super king sized, custom made water bed in the center. To get to the room the trio had to climb the family room stairs, move through the twenty-eight-foot long, semi-circular living room, and around the curve of the hall to the door.
As they got to the center of the living room, Greg stopped in his tracks, his eyes and mouth wide open in alarm at the sound of Cathy's high pitched, girlish screaming.
Greg only paused for a few seconds; then taking off like a hundred-yard dash sprinter, he passed both Carl and Sylvia in his frantic rush to get into the bedroom. The door was standing wide open, and Greg stumbled in and skidded to a stop on the deep-piled, snow white, wall-to-wall carpeting. His cock had sprung to renewed, more vigorous, and painful erection in the confines of his tight slacks the moment he had heard Cathy's ecstatic screams. Now it threatened to burst out of his fly, and his eyes bugged almost out of his head at the sight of what was happening on the giant water bed.
Tom was lying on his back in the middle of the bed. Cathy sat-kneeled-leaned-lay on top of him, her thighs straddled his. Her beautiful, golden tan ass was swiveling, spinning, twisting, and bucking up and down, in vicious, blurry circles. Tom's ass was rising and falling in rhythm with her ass, and the rolling, roiling floodtide that slushed in the thick rubber, satin sheet covered mattress. Every time Cathy lifted her ass, Tom's monstrous, slimy cock slurped out to the thick rim under the head. Every time her ass swooped, curled, crashed downward, the giant column of flesh disappeared completely into the very depths of the frantically fucking girl's popping, squirting cunt. Her ass cheeks flattened against his thighs with a wet "splaat" that was as loud as a rifle shot, and since she was caught in the maelstrom of a wracking, churning orgasm, her movements were so rapid that the sound of flesh smacking flesh was like thunderous applause.
Her screams were a babbling cacophony of senseless hysteria. As the orgasm died down, so did her shrieks, and so did her stormy, erratic movements. She was still cooing, crooning, moaning. Her ass was still whirling and dancing. Her pussy was still sputtering and popping around the pile-driving phallus that her father urgently, desperately hammered up into her womb. Greg stared just as his father had stood and stared a few hours earlier. Trying to rip off his clothing and look at the action at the same time, Greg almost fell flat on his face as he danced about on one foot, trying to dislodge his shoe.
A high, shelved, semi-circular, black, leather covered headboard circled the head of the bed. The shelves were loaded with a wide array of pornographic paraphernalia and swinger's party equipment. There were stacks of hard core picture magazines, a loaded Polaroid Instamatic camera, a 16 mm sound projector that showed life-sized porno movies in living color and stereophonic sound on a large screen on the opposite wall. There was also a combination radio-8 track tape-stereo record player, and a miniature bar, complete with ice cube maker. A collection of vibrators and dildoes of every imaginable size, shape, and utility rounded out the party accessories.
Patricia hung on to the top of the headboard, with her forehead resting on the top shelf. She was sitting-squatting-kneeling over Tom's face, with her wide open genital area squashed over his greedily lapping and sucking mouth. Her ass, like Cathy's, was moving in an indistinct blur of up and down, round and round eliptic circles. She was no more having her cunt and asshole licked ad sucked than she was fucking herself on Tom's nose, tongue, and chin. Had her ass not been constantly "moving up and down, round and round, from side to side, she would have certainly smothered Tom to death.
Though she was not screaming as loudly as Cathy had been, she was still making enough noise to be heard loudly and clearly over the other sounds in the room.
"My clit-goddamn it-my clit-s-suck it-s-suck, it! You can't make me c-cum with your t-t-tongue uuuup-m-my assssssshole-goddamn it-oooohhh, shit-shit-I want t-to c-cum, goddamn it, Tommmmyyyy-my clit, you s-s-son of a bitch-s-sssssuck my clit-y-essss-that's it-that's it-ohhh, yes-yes-yess!"
Greg finally succeeded in getting his clothers off, and with a roar of lust, leaped into the middle of the fracas. He landed near the head of the bed, crashing into Pat, and wrestling her down from the headboard. Somehow he manged to pull her head into position for him to shove his cock down her throat without dislodging her from her precarious, nearly homicidal seat on his father's face.
He was resting on one knee, hanging on to one of the headboard shelves, and Pat wrapped both arms around his waist and jerked his cock deeper into her mouth. She was now lying on her side, with Tom's head caught in the scissors of her thighs. Now that she could no longer move her loins as freely as she had before, Tom sucked and tongued her clit with a vengeance. The orgasm that she had been begging for-and gotten-she got again and again. She would have screamed in testimony to the repeated explosions, but she found herself choking on the biggest cock that she had ever had in her mouth. Just as Linda, Tina, and Cathy had prided themselves on being able to deep throat any cock that they were able to take in their cunts, both Sylvia and Pat proudly proclaimed that they could do the same. But this one would take a little getting used to. Taking a deep breath, opening her throat, and pulling his hips sharply back in to her face, she groaned in triumph as the big head squeezed smoothly into her gullet.
Carl slipped hastily out of his dressing gown, and with his hard, throbbing cock swinging out in front of him like a lop-sided flag pole, he hopped up on the bed behind the almost hysterical Cathy. He was so big and strong in comparison to her tiny, sweat-soaked body, he had no trouble at all grabbing her by the ass with both huge hands on the upstroke, and stopping all of her wildly furious movement. As though he had all the time in the world, he held her still with one hand, while he used the other to lubricate his cock with thick globules of spit. When his fleshy joint was as slick as a greased pole and dripping slime, he bridged Cathy's ass cheeks widely apart with the thumb and forefingers of his left hand, while he guided the head of his crooked, quivering cock to her flaming red, still fuck swollen anal rosebud.
Cathy screamed as the thick head forced its way past the tender, reflexively contracting sphincter. Carl groaned and clenched his teeth in pleasure-pain from the heat and tightness of her anal insides. He drove his cock in deeper-deeper-all the way in to his hairs. Her anal channel was searingly hot, as tight as two sizes too small rubber gloves, as slick as oiled velvet. Releasing her from the grip of his hand, but leaving his cock embedded to the limit in her butt hole, Carl leaned over her, savoring the sensation of her inner musculature writhing and roiling around his cock. He could plainly feel the solid bar of Tom's instrument of pleasure lying snugly against his in the neighboring hole, separated only by a thin membrane that was hardly thicker than the rubber of a condom.
Cathy yelled again. This time just as loudly, but with a happy, lilting intonation that let one and all know that this was a cry of pure joy. She relaxed her sore, tired ass muscles, and began to move-slowly at first-with and against two of the most manly, marvelous cocks that she could ever have hoped for. As her movements speeded up, first Tom, then Carl, caught her rhythm, and began to work with her-one sliding in, while the other slid out. Tom slammed his cock in to her womb on every down-in stroke, and Carl smashed his meat club into her intestines on every up-out stroke.
Sylvia looked the scene over calmly, coolly, smiling her pleasure. Things were working out even better than planned or expected. Almost half the battle was won. Tom, Greg, and Cathy were together again, doing the thing that all three of them loved most, with the people that all three of them loved most. There would be no going back for them, that was certain. The night was still young, they still had time to make whatever plans were necessary to finish the job, get Tina and Linda back into the fold.
She almost laughed out loud as she listened to Cathy's wildly shouted, but not at all exaggerated declarations of love and happiness. Had she not herself so often lain between Carl and Tom in just such a human sandwich, she would have sworn that the young girl had flipped her lid, gone completely out of her mind. But she knew how good it was, and she knew that every word that Cathy was screaming was nothing but the unvarnished truth.
Glancing down at Greg, she almost laughed again. He had his eyes clamped tightly shut, both fists clenched and in the air, and his mouth hanging open. Pat was doing a job on his cock that had him all but paralyzed with pleasure.
"The poor thing," Sylvia mused to herself as she crawled into bed, "I'd better give him something to hold onto."
And she neatly arranged her steamy, bubbling, overflowing cunt over his open mouth.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The members of the two families sat around the family room of the Forester home drained, sated, completely satisfied after a two-hour, non-stop orgy. They had all switched partners several times, ending in every possible combination of partners and positions. They had all cum until they could cum no more. Now, sitting and talking and laughing quietly, intimately, they all still seemed to be caught up in an air, an atmosphere of love and sexuality that would not allow them to stop hugging, fondling, stroking, and kissing.
Cathy sat on her father's lap, her head lying on his chest, her hand gripping and squeezing his cock, her thighs open as his gentle fingers played absently with her cunt. Sylvia knelt on the floor at Greg's feet, raking her long fingernails lightly up and down his thighs as she sucked and licked his cock. Pat sat on Carl's lap doing the same thing with his cock that Cathy was doing with Tom's, while he, likewise, fondly fingered her well-fucked cunt.
Greg and Cathy were the stars of the evening. Greg, because of his ungodly, outsized, indefatiguable cock, and Cathy, because of her youthful, untiring, unquenchable hunger for cock, cock, and more cock, her ability to eat pussy for the very first time, and do a job that compared favorably with old pros like Tom and Sylvia.
"I still haven't got enough," Cathy was saying. "My asshole and cunt are both almost swollen closed, and they're both as sore as all get out, but I swear if one of you beautiful studs wanted another go-round, I'd take you on and on and on."
"We'll have time for that," Carl said. "Something tells me that this is just the beginning of a brand new thing for all of us. It's been a beautiful scene, perhaps a bit over done, because we were all so damned hungry for each other. But if I have anything to do with it, we are going to settle down into some two family loving that is going to sustain us all for a lifetime."
"Yeah, we have at least gotten off to one hell of a beautiful start," Tom agreed. "I was really worried for awhile. When I walked in at home and caught you two fucking, it almost drove me crazy. I just knew my whole trip was fucked up and...."
"Walked in at home and caught us fucking?!" Both Cathy and Greg shouted in interruption at the same time.
"Sure." Tom grinned. 'I've still got my house key, and I came home on an early flight to surprise you kids, but the surprise was on me. I stood there staring at you two and listening to that same goddamned record blasting over and over again until I thought I'd go out of my mind."
"What's Going On!" Greg and Cathy shouted simultaneously again, cracking up with laughter.
"That's the one," Tom said. "I'll never forget it as long as I live-nor the sight of you two fucking like you'd been practicing for twenty years-God, but you two were beautiful together."
"Why didn't you join us?" Greg asked. "I wouldn't have minded. Remember, it was you who told me when I was a kid that it was alright for me to fuck my sisters if we were old enough to know what we were doing-mature enough to dig it."
"And I would have been the happiest little cunt in the world," Cathy chimed in. "I have wanted both of your cocks since the first time I saw them. This has been the most fantastic night of my life. You aren't going to leave again, are you, Daddy? And you, Greg, please don't join the Peace Corps-please stay with us."
"No, I don't plan to leave you again, baby," Tom said, "not like the last time, anyway, not without a trace of my wherebouts, not without a definite plan for maintaining constant contact. But-but, unless I can talk some sense into Linda's head-get her to see what a mistake the divorce was-get her to come back to me-to us-I can't stay here-I just couldn't."
"That about sums it up for me, too," Greg said, "and believe me, it's not just the fucking. I mean I'm not saying that unless Mom and Tina are here for me to fuck anytime I want them, I'm splitting this scene. It's the loving that I miss and want and need. Pussy, I had all I wanted, day and night, all day and all night, every day and every night for the past eighteen months. They were pretty girls, young girls, with individual and unique talents. But their love was jealous, possessive, and completely neurotic.
"Before tonight I hadn't fucked a single female member of my family, but I sure as hell had loved them all. Now that I've fucked Cathy, I don't love her one iota more than I ever did. She is just more dear and precious to me now, because she has made me the gift of her body. If I can just talk to Mom-she is the key to this whole thing-get her to see what she has done to us-convince her to forgive Dad for whatever it was he is supposed to have done-then I'm back to stay."
"My sentiments exactly," Tom cut back in. "My main purpose in being here is to try to win Linda back. I don't care what she has become-that isn't what's bothering me. My point is, I couldn't live in this town knowing that she is fucking everything in pants, with the exception of me-I just couldn't take it. I don't care how many other men she fucks-she knows that. I'd gladly stand in line-go out at night and bring them to her by the truckload-just as long as I knew that she would be there waiting for me after they get through with her."
"What the hell are you talking about, Dad? You know Mom wouldn't fuck any other man in this world but you," Greg cried.
"Oh Greg, I didn't tell you about her in my letters, because I knew how much you loved her, and I didn't want to hurt you," Cathy said. "You see, Daddy, I found out from Greg's friends where he was, got myself a post office box, and we've been writing to each other all along-that's how I kept him horny for me all this time. But, Greg, darling, I'm sorry-it wasn't like I said it was at all. Mommy wasn't just sitting around the house being mean and bitchy, moping over Daddy. Mommy has become the biggest whore in town."
"What!? I don't believe it!"
"Believe it, baby," Cathy said. "She's also practically an alcoholic. We don't have to go into any of the juicy and sordid details now, but as soon as we get back home I'll show you the report that a private detective gave me, complete with photographs of Mom in action-names of bars, motels, and some of the dudes she took on just during that one week that he was checking her out for me."
"My God-my God," Greg moaned. "But-but, Cat, baby, why would you have her watched by a private eye in the first place? After all the stuff that you told me you were doing in your letters-my goodness...."
"What I've been doing came after I found out about Mom, Greg. I wouldn't have screwed anybody else, I swear it-I would have saved my cherry for you, just as I've been promising since I knew I had one. But I started fucking just to get back at Mommy for being so hypocritical. She dared me to date, treated me like I was a nine-year-old cretin-wouldn't let me mention Daddy's name around the house-after what he did-whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. But when I found out that she was a complete drunk, and fucking like crazy-usually several men nightly-I just couldn't take it any more. And it wasn't just Mom; at that point in my life, at least, it seemed to me that every so-called adult in this town was a sneaky, lying hypocrite. Even Uncle Carl got on my shit list."
"I did?" Carl asked, surprised.
"Yes, you did. I asked you first-almost begged you to fuck me, and you got on a sanctimonious high horse-gave me a lecture, instead."
"Oh my God, I'd completely forgotten that." Carl laughed. "That was when you just started getting the Queen Bee reputation-when everybody was accusing you of fucking the whole basketball team. Honey, you walked into my office and asked me point blank to fuck you. Shit, you weren't but thirteen or fourteen years old, and I wouldn't have touched you at that age, no matter what the other circumstances. On top of that, Linda had forbidden Syl and me to ever speak to any of her kids again. So I just told you what I thought about the rumors that were going around about you-that fucking was alright, hut it shouldn't get you into trouble."
"I was fourteen already," Cathy said for the record, "but the thing that bugged me was all my male teachers were trying to fuck me-keeping me after class on some trumped up excuse, and telling me that if I gave them some pussy or some head that I wouldn't have to study for any of their classes, they'd give me 'A's.' Coach Hicky suspended a couple of his best players, because he heard they were fucking me. Then when he called me into his office to discuss the matter, he told me that the only way those guys would get back on the team would be for me to give him some pussy. I told him to kiss my ass.
"I really dug my Drones-they were all crazy about me-they all wanted to fuck me-so I said, what the hell, and that became a part of our activities. At first it was fun-this brand new thrill of getting my cunt sucked, feeling cock after cock pounding in and out of my cunt, and shooting it full of their hot, jetting cum. I loved taking them in my asshole, giving them blow jobs. But then it just became a routine bore. I fucked them because they wanted to fuck-sucked their cocks, because they wanted me to do it. And I missed my family more and more and more. So where do we go from here? I want the family back together for some good, loving fucking, but just like you, Greggy, most importantly, I want us back together for some good, fucking love, and I just don't think Mom is going to make it with us. She never was really as hot to trot as the rest of us-never was as free and casual about it as you were, Dad. What was her problem?"
"It was just the way she was raised," Tom defended Linda. "Actually she was the horniest one in the whole family, but she simply couldn't get rid of her hang-ups, all the rules and regulations that her folks and society place on sex. Me, I was raised without any rules and restrictions whatever, and that's one thing that I demanded in raising you kids-complete sexual freedom. It really bothered her to have you kids walk in and catch us fucking, and she always wanted to lock the door to the bedroom before we got down to any serious action. But I put my foot down, refused to start any locked door policy."
"God, and were we kids glad that you did," Greg said. "Watching you two fuck was about the greatest form of entertainment that we had going for us. I guess that's why we never got hung up on movies and TV like the other kids. We'd just sit around waiting for you to haul Mom into the bedroom, and we'd gather at the door to watch. Once you started really shooting cock to the old girl, she went completely deaf, dumb, and blind, anyway, and sometimes we'd all be leaning over the foot of the bed just a few inches away from the center of the action, and she wouldn't even know we were in the room."
"I did," Tom chuckled. "I pretended not to ever notice, but I'd actually hold back-wait until I heard you ease the door open behind me, and sneak into the room, before I'd try my damndest to drive her ass through the mattress. Like you, the biggest thrill of my early childhood was watching my parents fuck through a hole in the wall that I made just for that purpose. So I really put on a show for you kids-glad you liked it. Remember how I'd usually have her on her hands and knees, with her head down in the pillow? Well, that was to make extra sure that she didn't know she had an audience."
"Yeah," Cathy put in, "and the way you'd always practically stand up in bed with your legs straddling her entire ass, so-there was no doubt as to which hole your cock was in. That turned us all on the most, because her asshole was so tiny, and your cock was so big, and we simply couldn't believe you could fuck her so hard there, and she enjoyed it so much. I guess that's why I love it in the ass so much now, because Mommy let us know in no uncertain terms how good your cock felt in her asshole. I couldn't wait to get my ass reamed."
"Me, too," Greg agreed, "and Tina, too. I tried like a son of a bitch to get my cock in both Cathy and Tina's asshole after each session of watching you and Mom, but neither one of them could relax enough for me to get anymore than the head in, and I'd usually end up cumming all over their ass cheeks. I'll bet I jerked off no less than a half dozen times every single day of my life, from the time I was about eight or nine, until I began fucking once or twice a day at the age of fourteen," Greg said, "and every single time while I hammered my cock sore I imagined that I was fucking Mom in the asshole-nowhere else, just in the asshole."
"Like father-like son," Tom chuckled. "I went through the exact same phase in exactly that way. And I want your dream to come true, son," he added seriously. "I want you to get that incredible joint of yours in Linda's asshole just one time, and maybe you'll see why I'm so hung-up on that woman-so hopelessly in love with her-not just because her asshole is the ultimate fuck hole in all of creation, but because she made it that way-trained it that way, just to please me-give me pleasure. She loved me, I know that-she loved me just as much as I loved her, and if I don't get her back, I don't know what I'm going to do-I just don't know."
"Well, I know what I'm going to do," Greg said. "First I'm going to wait for Tina to get here, and see if any of her attitudes have changed. If she is the same old Tina that I remember and love, that's just one more step in the right direction, and I know she'll be the same, she's too much like you, Dad-too sex oriented-too love oriented-too independent and horny to fall victim to any of the traditional bullshit. You'll be there, of course, as will Cathy, and we'll welcome her home with some good loving fucking, and-as Cat puts it-some good fucking loving, that will hook her solidly again. Then all four of us will wait Linda out, and present a united front against any opposition she might put up."
"I guess that's about the ticket," Tom conceded. "This would actually be fun if so goddamned much wasn't hanging in the balance. Normally, just getting back together again with Carl, Syl, and Pat would have been ball enough to justify the trip from California, ten times over. Just watching you and Cathy fuck, Greg, not to mention getting the chance to join you, was something that I would have made a trip all the way around the world for, and no matter what it cost, I would have considered it the best deal I ever made. Still, right now I'm so balled up inside-so-so-fucking uptight about how this thing is going to turn out with Linda that this whole, beautiful scene is suffering from it."
"I feel like I'm intruding where I have no business," Carl said, "but goddamnit, I love you people as much as you love each other. And though Syl, Pat, and I are not members of your family, we feel like we are-we couldn't love you any more if we were...."
"We are family," Sylvia interrupted. "Tom and Linda are godfather and godmother to Pat, we are godfather and godmother to all three of their kids. Until Tom left here I was fucking him just as often and just as lovingly as I was fucking you. Since I've known him, there has never been any difference in my feelings for him and my feelings for you. The same goes for the kids-I love them just as much as I love Pat, and I know Pat feels the same way."
"Of course I do," Pat said, "but what were you going to say, Daddy?"
"I say I don't think we should wait for Linda to come home Sunday. She'll probably come home with the guilties-disgusted with and ashamed of herself, and you will all play hell trying to talk sense to her.
.She'll probably be on the defensive-already having decided what action she is going to take if she comes home and finds Tom and or Tina still there. Now, you people can vote me down if you choose, but I say go out and get her tonight, Greg. Catch her making her . rounds-drunk as usual-and fuck all the resistance out of her. The way you've changed, there is no way under the sun for her to recognize you-especially in the condition she is likely to be in, and by the time she sobers up, it'll be too late."
"Good idea," Greg agreed, "except for about three or more things. First, I wouldn't have any idea where to even begin looking for her. Secondly, it's 12:45 a.m., and if she hasn't scored by now, she isn't the beautiful sex-bomb that I remember. Finally, even if I found her, and even if some other dude hasn't already latched on to her, she'd take one look at all this hair in my face-mustache, sideburns, and beard-and spit in my face. Linda hates hippy types with a passion, and that means any dude with a single hair on his face, with the possible exception of his eyebrows."
"Wrong on all three counts," Carl said. "This is Friday night, amateur strip night at the Pink Pussy, a strip joint down on the strip-you know that section of town on the lower northeast side, where all the porno houses, dirty book stores, and street walkers are to be found. From what I've heard from reliable sources, Linda has won that amateur strip contest so many times that she could turn pro. The contest begins at 1:00 a.m., the last show before they close at 2:00. So that's where you begin and end looking for her.
"I'm sure she's had a hundred chances to make a pick-up already, but she won't make her final selection before the show is over. I hear she really steams up the joint-does something new and different every time. So she knows that she'll have lots of stone hard cocks to choose from after she's done her number. As for the foliage on your face-no sweat there either. Linda stopped being choosy about two years ago. As long as you are young, look halfway clean and decent, and appeal to her as a stud who can really give her a good fuck, she wouldn't give a shit if you were as hairy as King Kong, and twice as big. You've got it made. If she catches a glimpse of you in the audience, she just might call you up to fuck her on the stage."
"Call me a cab," Greg said happily, leaping up and hustling into his clothing. "I should be able to get there in time to catch the whole show. I don't know how this thing is going to work out, but I think you've got the right idea, Uncle Carl. If it doesn't work, I want to thank you in advance for trying, anyway. Sayyy, somebody call that cab for me-time's awasting-I'm about ready."
"Cab my ass," Carl said, picking up his car keys from the end table and tossing them to Greg, "chauffeur the old lady in style-take my Caddy. Linda couldn't possibly recognize it as mine, because I bought it straight out of the showroom window just three days ago."
CHAPTER NINE
Greg parked the sleek, still new-smelling, snow white Eldorado across from the Pink Pussy, and strolled across the street toward the neon-lighted club with a huge, pink sign out front in the shape of a pink pussy cat. He was dressed in tight, navy blue, bell bottomed slacks, a thin white, turtle necked sweater, and a powder blue sport coat. A huge, golden medallion with twin fish embossed in the metal to indicate his astrological sign, Pisces, hung from a heavy gold chain around his neck. As an added measure of disguise, he was sporting a pair of Air Corps type dark shades.
Whores standing in the doorways in that area of the strip took one look at the fabulous automobile and the tall, dark, and handsome dude who stepped out of it, and made their ways hurriedly to intercept him before he could reach the entrance of the club.
"Hey sweet daddy," a tall, high-breasted, chocolate brown doll, dressed in a micro-skirt that revealed the crotch of her white bikini panties, crooned as she met him in the middle of the street, "looking for a good time? Anything you want-head, pussy, asshole-you name it, and you got it, baby-for your pretty ass, just $20."
"Not this morning, doll," Greg replied with a bright, flashing smile, "maybe some other time."
Two other whores propositioned Greg before he made it to the door, and one of them called him a "faggot motherfucker," when he refused to go home with both of them for $50.
He showed his ID to the beefy doorman-bouncer to prove that he was eighteen or above, paid the $5 cover charge, and squeezed through the standing room only crowd. He ended up as close as he could get to the stage, where a short, fat, clown of an MC was announcing the amateur strip contest.
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen," the MC spoke into the mike, "the event that you have all been waiting for all night is about to come off on our stage, and when this event comes off up there, I'll bet dollars to used rubbers that half of you horny dudes will cum off in your pants down there, because we are about to see pussy-pussy-and more pussy!
"As is per usual, in order to get you the greatest number of gashes to gaze upon, all the ladies who sign up for the contest are given a card allowing them and their date to drink anything they want until show time, absolutely free. The cheap son of a bitch who signed up his eighty-year-old grandmother, just so he could scarf up some free drinks, has already had his ass thrown out in the street, so don't worry-the pussy you're gonna be eyeballing is all young-hot-and juuuuiicyyy!
"Remember, only your applause will be the final judge of which of these ladies is to receive the first prize of one hundred green back dollars, and a magnum of fine, imported champagne-imported just this morning from Peoria, Illinois. And all your ladies should know by now that you gotta do more than just show us your cunts in order to win-you gotta put on a show that'll make us bust the zippers on our pants!
"We've got five entries tonight," the MC ended his spiel, reading from a list in his hand, "and the first one to show us that thing that she feeds her husband on is Mizz Vicki Fontaine! Get your hands out of your pockets, fellas, and give Mizz Vicki a big round of applause-you can finish jerking off while she does her number!"
Vicki Fontaine was a tall, faded blonde with mammoth tits, but a rather shapeless, flat ass. She was dressed in a tight, red, mini-dress, and black, high heeled pumps. The tightness of the dress accentuated the fact that she had a thick waist and a slightly bulging belly. As she had run up on the stage out of the audience, the band had struck up a popular disco number.
Vicki began to wiggle and prance about the stage completely out of sync with the music. Greg lost interest immediately, and pushing the dark glasses down lower on his nose, turned his back to the stage to search the audience for Linda. The joint was jam packed, and Greg was surprised to discover that there were just about as many women present as men. Even though his eyes were now accustomed to the semidarkness, the place was simply too crowded for him to pick his mother out of the mob-even if she happened to indeed be present.
A burst of applause caused him to turn back to the stage to see Vicki standing wide legged, rolling her belly, with the top of her dress off her shoulders, and hanging down to her waist. She was hefting a pair of snow white, big nippled tits, larger than any Greg had ever seen, in both hands. She shook them at the audience, then lifted them, one at a time, to suck her own nipples.
Greg turned his eyes from the stage, and continued his search for his mother. He didn't look back and up again until the next burst of applause, this time louder. Now, Vicki was stripped down to her high heeled shoes, standing with her back to the audience, holding a pair of red silk panties, twisted into a rope in both hands, sawing them back and forth between the long, loose, blubbery lips of her slimy, clean shaven cunt. Still bending over, waving her ass from side to side, she took one stiffened finger and slowly stuffed the panties up into her soppy hole until they disappeared completely from view. The audience cheered.
Vicki pranced across the stage with the panties still buried out of sight in her cunt, stopped in mid-stage, facing the audience, and squatted as though she were about to take a piss. Sticking two fingers up inside her cunt, she made a face, pretending that she couldn't find what she was looking for, eliciting another burst of laughter and applause from the audience. Slowly she pulled the soaking wet underwear out of hiding, swung them around her head, and tossed them down into the crowd. The audience roared its approval.
The next two girls were younger, prettier, and had much better bodies than Vicki, but neither of them got the response from the audience that Vicki had.
The first one had merely danced, stripped, and briefly, but deeply, finger fucked herself, before sticking the finger that she had had in her cunt into her mouth.
The next one drew a good deal of laughter, stamping, and whistling from the crowd when she squatted over the table right under the edge of the stage, and rubbed her cunt over the bald head of a little, fat man sitting at the table with-Greg assumed-his wife. The spectators, including the lady sitting with him, went wild when the cherubic old man half stood up, grabbed the girl by both thighs, and greedily lapped her pussy, until she sprang up and away, and ended her number.
Stacey St. John, the next to last contestant, caused Greg to forget his further search, and devote full attention to the stage. Stacey was tall, statuesque, gorgeous, and appeared to be no more than nineteen or twenty years old. She had waist length, flaming red hair, a decadent, doll like, voluptuous mouthed face, and a figure that caused Greg's eyes to pop. She was wearing a form fitting, backless, green, ankle length evening gown with a slit up one side all the way to her waist. Even without the slit, revealing creamy, smooth, naked flesh, it was obvious that she wasn't wearing a stitch under the sleek, body hugging garment.
She danced like a pro-sensuous-queenly-getting almost as much applause from her grace and erotic beauty as the others had gotten from their very best shots. By the time she had her dress off her shoulders, and had slithered out of it like a snake out of its skin, Greg had his first erection since the contest had started.
Stacey was so sexy that men and women alike ooohed and aahhhed and applauded every time she made a new and erotic move-and every move she made was new-every move was sizzlingly erotic. Her long, slender, scarlet nailed fingers were ten lusty cocks that made love to her mouth, her breasts, her cunt and ass in fondling, stroking dips, glides, and dives that had the entire audience panting in desire.
Stacey brought the house down with her final, sexy gimmick. The mike that the MC had used was of the knob headed, slender, cylindrical variety that could be detached from its stand, and carried about the huge stage, or even down into the audience, since the cord was several yards long. After making copulating movements with the stand, as though she were making violent love to an impossibly skinny lover, Stacey snatched the mike from the stand, and held it in one hand, while she "jerked it off" with the other. Then fluttering her long, pink tongue round and round the "head" of the slender, silver cock, she stuck the thing into her obscenely sexy mouth and began making exaggerated sucking and licking motions.
Giving out with a laughing yelp of abandon, she swung her long arm out, up, and down between her widespread thighs, and stabbed herself smoothly in the cunt with the shiny metal phallus. For the final few bars of the torridly sexy song to which she had danced, she frantically fucked herself, then pulled the mike slowly out of her dripping pussy, and replaced it on its stand to a storm of wall-shaking applause.
"Shit, Mom is already thirty-seven years old," Greg said to himself, thinking of the impossibility of her competing with the sexy young thing who had just left the stage. "No-no-she's already thirty-eight-Aries-she turned thirty-eight last month-April 13.
Oh God-even sober and in her right mind there is no way-no way for her to compete with that fabulous fox. And if she is anything like Carl thinks she'll be, she'll be a mess. Oh God-oh God-I know I won't be able to stand here and watch her degrade herself-make an obscene spectacle of herself on that stage-don't let her get up there-please-please-I'd-I'd do somthing foolish."
The MC was cracking the audience up by sniffing and licking the mike that had just come out of Stacey's red-thatched pussy. Greg closed his eyes and held his breath as the MC announced, "We're running late, ladies and gentlemen, so let's hurry things along by giving out with a big round of applause to welcome our final contestant-Mizzzzz Sheila Storm!"
"Oh fuck," Greg snorted in disgust, already spinning on his heels, and elbowing his way through the crowd toward the door. "Sheila Storm. I was a goddamned fool to come here looking for Mom in the first place-this is crazy-the whole fucking idea-Mom would never do a thing like this-never-Carl has just heard a bunch of speculations and rumors that he was stupid enough to believe."
The applause died down, and the band broke into a jazzed up, off-beat version of "The Girl from Ipanima," with accent on bongos and bass guitar. Because he happened to especially like that particular song, Greg glanced back over his shoulder, expecting to see the girl described in the words of the song-tall-tan-young-lovely.
The girl was neither tall nor tan, and since she had her back to the audience, doing fantastic things with an ass that caused Greg to stop dead in his tracks, and turn around to face the stage, he couldn't tell if she were young or lovely. In comparison to Stacey St. John, at least, she was short, no more than 5'6". Her shoulder length hair was a golden blonde, thick and vibrant, swinging and shimmering in time with her sexy movements. Her skin was a pale white. She was wearing a black, sleeveless, tightly clinging mini-dress that ended scant inches below the cheeks of the most perfectly beautiful ass that Greg could remember ever having seen in his life.
She kicked off her sandals, dropping her height another inch and one half. Doing completely unbelievable things with her ass that had the audience already cheering, she held both arms straight out to the sides, revealing that between two fingers of her right hand she was holding a long, slender, ebony cigarette holder. There was a freshly lit, super king sized cigarette in the thin, delicate mouthpiece, and she flicked the ashes disdainfully on the stage before returning the holder to her mouth.
Exciting, enflaming the audience with the movements of her ass, which she caused to shiver, shake, move in concentric circles and figure 8's, and bobble and dance up and down-one cheek at the time. She remained with her back turned, dropped the thin dress straps from her shoulders, and slithered out of the garment. Greg didn't want her to turn around. Nothing that she had up front could possibly begin to compare with her mind-blowing ass.
Turn around she did, however, and her tits were as voluptuously overblown and sexy as her ass. Her measurements of 38-24-38 matched Stacey St. John's inch for inch, the only difference being Stacey's were spread over at least six more inches of heigth. Where Stacey had looked like a $500 per trick call-girl, Shiela looked like a high school cheerleader. Her pertnosed, brilliant-eyed, lush-mouthed beauty was childish, innocent, incredibly sexy.
Greg snatched his shades all the way from his face, and gasped aloud. Sheila Storm was his mother-Linda Kellerman! He hurried back down toward the stage, bumping into chairs, tables, and bodies as he kept his eyes glued straight ahead, staring bug eyed-hypnotized-at the woman whom he had always considered to be the most beautiful woman in the world.
Now Linda was standing flat on one foot while she lifted the other straight out to the side, then up-up-slowly, sensuously-until her toes were pointing straight up at the overhead lights. She held that pose for a moment, giving the audience a direct, unobstructed shot in between the perfectly formed lips of her ultra-perfect cunt. One hand was up at her ankle, holding the raised leg in place. The other was spreading her cunt lips, thrumming her clit, and doing things to her love hole that drove the audience into a stamping, whistling frenzy.
Swinging the leg gracefully back down, as soon as her foot touched the floor she went into a tit swinging, belly rolling backbend, with her thighs spread widely apart. Her movements were now being made in halftime to the music, yet perfectly synchronized with it in hypnotic slow motion. She bent backwards until her head rested on the floor, and the audience had an even more clear view of her cunt lying nakedly, starkly open at the apex of her wide open, quivering thighs. Using only her uncanny muscle control, she caused her cunt to open and close, her long, meaty clit to bobble up and down.
Lifting a hand from the floor, and swinging it gracefully over her tits, and down out of sight to her mouth, she raised it back into view, holding the cigarette holder between her fingers. The cigarette was now about half smoked. Flicking the ashes away, she swung the hand further down, and inserted the ebony mouthpiece of the holder into her cunt. She then dropped her hand back to the floor near her head, and the crowd roared its amazement as the smoldering end of the cigarette glowed brightly-dimmed-and glowed again, obviously as a result of her "smoking" it with her cunt.
Linda pulled the holder out of her cunt, but remained in her bridged, cunt flashing position, perfectly still, until the applause, shouting, and whistling died down. Greg thought that she had gotten herself into a position that she found she couldn't get out of, and the others in the audience, too, thought that she was having problems, since the music had stopped. However, Linda changed the puzzlement into a standing, stamping, whistling, cheering ovation, by blowing three perfect smoke rings from the rounded mouth of her cunt before springing gracefully to her feet.
Part of the crowd was already leaving as all five contestants were called back up to the stage. Linda had wiggled back into her dress and was standing at the end of the short line, smiling and waiting confidently for the MC to hold his hand over her head while the audience left no question whatever in anybody's mind who the winner had been.
As Linda accepted her $100 and her bottle of champagne, Greg was hopping about in front of the stage, smiling and waving at her, trying to get her attention. He wondered how he was going to get a chance to talk to her, since the joint was closed, and he couldn't even offer to buy her a drink. On top of that, there were at least two dozen other men milling about, obviously waiting for the same thing that he was.
The other four women left the stage with their respective dates and mates, and Linda disappeared behind stage. Waitresses were walking around among the remaining crowd, reminding people that the club was closed, no more drinks could be sold, and everybody would have to leave. Busboys were cleaning tables, stacking chairs on top of them, and the joint was swiftly emptying.
After she had been gone backstage for almost ten minutes, it suddenly dawned on Greg that there had to be an employees' exit-a back way out-and that Linda had most certainly made use of it. Wheeling, he dashed around the edge of the stage, down a dimly lighted hall leading to the toilets and fire exit and skidded to a stop before a door marked "Private Office," where he heard the loudly arguing voices of a woman and man.
"I'm not fucking tonight, Herby! Goddamnit, can't you understand English? I am not fucking anybody-period! Now, let me out of here, I'm going home-alone!"
"The hell you preach!" the voice that Greg recognized as that of the MC's yelled back at his mother. "Bitch, your name is mud around this goddamned joint-you're giving the Pink Pussy a bad name the way you drop your drawers and spread your thighs for anything in pants! The whores on this street are ready to lynch your ass for giving away so much for free, what they're bustin' their asses to sell! Now, goddam nit, I'm giving you a chance to earn another quick hundred bucks for yourself, as well as a hundred for me for doing what you do every other goddamn night for free, for Christ fuckin' sake! And you're gonna tell me that you ain't fuckin'?
"Are you outta your cocksucking mind, bitch, This is an important dude-one of the top city commissioners. He can do this place some real big favors, or he can get us closed down tight as a drum-depending on you-and if you think I'm gonna let you fuck up the sweet deal I got here, you got another fuckin' think coming!"
"I told you that my family will be here the first thing in the morning!" Linda cried. "My ex-husband-my kids-I haven't seen them in years-I've got to get home and get myself together! I can't let them see me like this-drunk-burnt out-nerves shattered-I'm about to go insane! Tell the bastard, some other time-any other time-but not tonight, Herby-not this morning!"
"Talk your ass off!" Herby snarled. "The dude has already given me two hundred green back dollars-one hundred for me, and another hundred for you, if you act right-and I ain't about to give this bread back to him, and you ain't about to get out of this office until he's laid your ass on that couch right there, and got his rocks off! He'll be back just as soon as the joint is cleared out up front, so get down off your fuckin' high horse and cool your heels 'til he gets here, 'cause, believe me, sweetie, you ain't got no choice in the matter!"
Greg rapped sharply at the door.
"See? Here he is now," Greg heard Herby chortle. "This won't take long. He's so hot from watching your fine ass perform that he'll probably bust his nuts before he gets his cock out of his pants."
Herby swung the door inward, with a broad grin on his face. The grin froze as he stared dumbfounded up into Greg's angry countenance. The grin remained frozen as Greg swung a looping upper-cut from the hip, catching the fat, little clown on the point of the chin, and knocking him all the way back across his desk, where he crashed out cold into the back wall.
CHAPTER TEN
"I saw you down front," Linda said to Greg, curled on the deep red, crushed velvet upholstery of the front seat of the Caddy, her head resting on his shoulder, her hand stroking his cock through his slacks. "My act was just for you. You turned me on the moment I saw you standing there staring up at me. Thanks-thanks for saving me from those creeps. Anything else I can do to really show my appreciation needs but to be suggested, and I promise you it will be done."
"I thought you told Herby that you weren't fucking tonight-this morning. You said your-uhhh-family was coming."
"I lied," Linda said. "I was just trying to get the hell out of there. I was hoping that you would still be waiting-I wanted to be with you."
"I'm flattered," Greg said, "and I almost missed you. That was my first time in that place, and I didn't know where you disappeared to. I was looking for you when...."
"Ohhh-you've never been in the Pussy? You must not be from around here."
"Uhhhh-no-not really-I'm-uhhh-new in town-uhhh-staying with some friends while I get my shit together-decide what I'm going to do."
"With this lovely car, you must be doing alright, whatever you do-which is?"
"Between jobs-but I can find things to do in my line here just as good as anywhere else."
"Hope you decide to stay. I think I'd like to see more of you."
"And I know I'd like to see more of you. Whether I stay here or leave depends upon whether or not you'll be available to me on a fairly regular basis."
"Then that's settled. You're not going anywhere, young man."
"Where are we going now?" Greg asked. "When you got in the car, you said drive-straight ahead-stay on that street. Well, that street has run out-we're out on the highway-where are we going?"
"Out to the lake, just two or three miles ahead. There's a place there called Lookout Point. I want to sit there with you and watch the sun come up over the lake. What's your name?"
"Uhhh-call me-uhhh-baby, honey, Daddy-anything sweet and loving." Greg said, caught off guard by the unexpected question. "But my name is Kevin."
"Kevin-that's a nice name, but I know I'll be calling you the others-the sweet and loving ones. You remind me so terribly much of someone I used to-and still-love very, very dearly."
"I'm already jealous-who?"
"Just a boy-a boy named Gregory. How old are you?"
"How old do I look?"
"I don't know," Linda said, raising her face to peer up at him. "With all that foliage on your face, you could be eighteen or twenty-eight."
"Twenty-six," Greg said.
"You don't look that old-even with the beard. You're beautiful, though."
"And you say I look like this-uhhh-this Gregory? Did he wear a beard?"
Linda giggled. "No, silly, he was just a boy-a boy of fifteen when I saw him last. And I didn't say you look like him, I said you remind me of him-your cool, sweet, gentle, and loving air-that's the way Greg was. Turn left on the blacktop ahead, then follow the signs to Lookout Point. Now it's your turn-how old do I look?"
"About my age-late twenties," Greg said, not really lying, because had he not known Linda, he would never have guessed her age to be more than twenty-eight-maybe even as young as twenty-four. "Ummmmmm-twenty-seven?"
"Close enough," Linda said with a merry laugh, "though I feel much younger than that driving out to Lookout Point with you. I feel like a fifteen-year-old on her first really hot date."
"What's the difference in a really hot date, and just a hot date?" Greg asked.
"Just a hot date is where you do everything but-as they say-go all the way," Linda said. "A really hot date is when the girl just knows in her bones that this is it-tonight I'm going to get f-u-c-k-e-d."
"Is that where you lost your cherry-Lookout Point? And is that how old you were-fifteen?" Greg
"Yes, to both questions," Linda answered. "On my very first date with this dude-just like with you. Park over there under those trees. That's exactly where it happened-under that big oak."
Even before Greg had pulled up under the indicated tree, and killed the engine, Linda was unzipping his pants and reaching in to haul out his half-hard cock.
"Ohhh my God-my God," she breathed huskily, "it's just like I knew it would be-long, thick-gorgeous-absolutely beautiful. I've never seen such a perfectly lovely cock in my life. Wait-wait-adjust your seat to give me more head room-let it back as far as it will go, and just relax. I don't care how many times you've had your cock sucked-I don't care how good the best of your girls were-young man, you are just about to receive the blow-job of your life."
Linda had already begun to kiss, lick, and suck around the bulbous head of Greg's cock before he had gotten the seats in the most comfortable position for both of them, and had worried his slacks and shorts down completely out of the way. Greg tried to click his mind off-forget what Linda was doing to him, and calmly assess his position at the moment. "Well, I've got her this far," his thoughts began, "all I've got to do now is-ummmmmmmm-ohhhhhhh-shit-shit-SHIT! WOWWWWW! Goddamn, woman-easy-EEEASYYYYY!"
His cock head was down inside her gullet. Her soft, hot lips were nibbling in his pubic hairs. Not content to merely deep throat his cock to prove that she could do it, and let it go at that, she went on to do tricks with the muscles of her pharynx. She made them ripple and roil-expand and contract. As she released the sensitive member, let it begin to slide up and out, she titillated it with her tonsils, worked it over with her bellowing jaws. She fluted and convoluted her tongue under, over, and around it. Her mouth was filled with hot, bubbly saliva, which she sloshed and churned around the head and stalk of the live thing in her miraculous mouth.
She used her hot, soft, tender hands to smoothly, expertly jerk him off as she sucked, and this action alone was enough to cause a lesser man than Greg to blast his nuts. She let her even, white teeth scrape ever so slightly, nip ever so lightly-not hurting, merely stimulating-exciting.
He tried to think of something else-anything else-to keep from cumming too fast, from ending this indescribable thrill-waking up from this dream that he had dreamed awake and asleep for as long as he could remember.
"This is Linda," he whispered to himself through clenched teeth, "my own sweet, sexy, beautiful loving mother-who gave me life-changed my diapers-wiped my nose-spanked my little butt-and drove me crazy with desire for her body. And she's kissing-licking-sucking my cock-oooohhh GodooooohhhGod-what a super cocksucker she is-the best--the absolute best in all of creation."
He stared down at the top of her bobbing head in wonder, awe, amazement. The sounds that she made-sloppy, schlurrpy, moaning, groaning, gulping-proved beyond the shadow of a doubt that she was doing what she enjoyed doing most, and improving on what she did best.
Greg almost laughed aloud at the very ludicrousness of the situation. This was the realization of a lifetime dream-yes. The final living out of an impossible fantasy-yes. But it was more-much more. It was the culmination of a night filled with miracles-of surprise piled on pleasant surprise-of shock-of wonder-a night of psychadelic, kalaidascopic happenings that he still hadn't had time to absorb, and straighten out in his mind.
He had known that he was going to fuck Cathy, because that was practically all she had talked about in her long, juicy, sexy letters to him. She had met him at the airport, and he had been practically knocked off his feet by her sizzling, sexy, grown-up beauty. She had been locked in the time machine of his mind as the flat chested, boyish assed, knobby knead, little sister, whom he had loved, teased, practiced on before he left home. Her hairless, fat lipped, little valentine-shaped cunt had been his textbook, his model and design for all the future cunts that he knew he would enjoy all the more in all kinds of action, because he had had hers to study, fondle, finger, and kiss.
As she had rushed into his arms out of the crowd, though, he realized with joy and amazement that she had broken out of the prison of his mind, and grown into the culmination of all that is beautiful, feminine, and sexy. Her breasts, straining, bouncing, thrusting against the thin tee shirt that she wore, were the breasts of a woman-defiant, naked, grape-like nipples that screamed, "Suck me-suck me-suck me!" Her cunt, starkly, exaggeratedly etched by the skin tight, cut-off jeans that she wore, was the cunt of a full grown, full blown woman. And it screamed even louder than her nipples, "Fuck me-fuck me-fuck me!"
"It's 5:15," she had whispered excitedly between kisses in the cab on the ride home from the airport. "Mommy's already split, and won't be back until Sunday night or Monday morning. Daddy won't be home until about three in the morning. The whole house is ours for hours and hours and hours. Let's don't waste time talking-you can tell us what you've been doing, and what your plans are when Daddy gets home-let's just fuck and suck until he gets here."
And they had-even though they didn't know it at the time. They had made it no farther than the inside of the front door. He dropped his bags, wrestled her to the carpet, and after only snatching her cut-offs down her legs, and releasing his aching erection from his fly, he had blasted his pent up, impatient load into her womb after only five minutes of frantic fucking.
They had finished undressing, and she had sucked him to a second climax on the living room rug. They had 69'd for the next half hour, with her cumming a half dozen times in rapid succession, and his holding back, saving up for the long, lusty, no holes barred fuck that Tom had inadvertently witnessed.
"Then to run into Dad like that," Greg continued his silent musing, still recapturing in his mind the chain of events leading up to this fabulous moment. "God, I'm glad he walked in on us-that he is still the uninhibited, total freak that I remembered. And to get it on with the Foresters was more frosting on an unbelievably delicious, multi-layerd cake. Then when Dad and I did that job on Cathy together-me in her asshole, Dad in her cunt-then us switching holes, and that incredible little sex bomb digging it all the way-fucking us both to a stale mate.
"Now, all I've got to do is swing Mom back into the family circle. I've got her now right where I want her. There can be no going back for her, but I've still got to work it exactly right-don't rush it-get her hooked-find out where she's coming from as far as the rest of the family is concerned. Oh God, don't let me fuck up this chance-let me do it just right."
Greg let his mind drift back to his cock, and what Linda was doing to it. She was not merely sucking, she was devouring it. It was good-fantastic-just as she predicted, the best blow job of his life-but he couldn't cum. Depending up on his mood, desire for the girl, and how long it had been since he had had an orgasm, Greg could fuck from five to fifteen minutes before blasting his nuts for the first time. The second time usually took from one half hour to an hour of steady, unbroken pounding. The third time rarely ever happened in the space of a single night. Though his cock remained as hard as ivory, and his bottomless energy never flagged or diminished, unless the circumstances were extraordinary, that third orgasm never occurred.
Last night, however, had been filled with extraordinary circumstances, and he had cum not three but five times. Now he felt good, exhilaratingly stimulated and excited, completely confident that he could fuck for the rest of the day, but since that first surprising shock of finding his cock embedded to the hilt in his mother's throat, cumming had not entered his mind.
"You sure know how to deflate a girl's ego, don't you?" Linda asked, planting one more smacking, wet kiss on the head of Greg's cock, and lifting her face to stare up at him out of bright blue eyes. "What do you mean?"
"Don't want to brag," Linda said, "but I know I'm the best cocksucker in the world. Did you know that Linda Lovelace had to be hypnotized, and taught how to deep throat a cock? I'm self-taught-it came naturally, and I was doing it long before that movie came out. I can make the average man cum in from three to five minutes without half trying, yet I've pulled every trick out of my bag on your cock for the last fifteen minutes, and you sit there as calmly as though nothing at all were happening."
"It isn't your fault, baby, I swear you're absolutely right-nobody-but nobody-can beat you sucking cock. But-but-I don't know-it's-it's just that this is all too much for me, I guess. You're the woman I've been dreaming of-searching for all of my life, and I guess it's just that I can't believe that this is really happening. I keep expecting to wake up with my shorts full of cum from this wet dream. I'm sitting here trying to figure you out. Who are you? What are you? Why aren't you married, with the typical two or three kids, living in the typical, tri-level, suburban dream house, with the typical handsome, debonaire, wealthy husband?"
"I've been that whole route," Linda said, "exactly as you described it-the kids, the house, the husband-but that part of my life is over and done with, and there's no going back for me. I don't like talking about that part of my life, though, so please don't ask me any more quesions-not yet, anyway. Who am I? I'm Sheila Storm, amateur strip tease queen. What am I? I guess I'm just what Herby said I was-didn't you hear him? I'm a whore who is too stupid to sell it-I give it away.
"You see, Kevin, my husband, Tom, got my cherry when I was just fifteen years old, and as long as we were together I never fucked anybody but him. We've been divorced for a little more than three years now, and in that time, I've been catching up on all I've missed."
"Having fun?"
"Sometimes. Sometimes it's great-fantastic. Sometimes it's just the opposite-lousy-degrading-humiliating-sick. I cry myself to sleep more often than not, and I'm tired of crying, Kevin. I want a man to love-to give all of this bottomless, endless supply of love. Please say you'll be that man. Lift me over into the backseat, just like Tommy did so many years ago, right on this spot, and fuck me, Kevin. Fuck me like you really love me-really want me. I want so terribly to be yours, and yours alone. Please, please make me yours.", Greg wanted to talk this thing out. He wanted to tell her how much the "yours, and yours alone" jazz turned him off. He wanted to tell her who he really was, and about the family's getting back together again, and try to persuade her to come home with him now and help them keep this newly found ball rolling. But as she talked, she had continued to fondle and stroke his cock, reminding him that he still hadn't done the thing that he had always wanted to do more than anything else in life.
Without a further word, he twisted in his seat, lifted her, and deposited her in the backseat. As she hastily slipped out of her dress and shoes in back, he struggled out of his clothing up front. In a moment, stark naked, he swung his long legs over the seat and tumbled lightly to his knees on the floor in back.
Linda received him with open arms. She lay flat on the soft seat, with one leg up over the backrest. Her cunt was open and moist and waiting. She actually quaked and. trembled in a wild, eager anticipation bordering on fear. She felt like a virgin-an impatient, lust filled, cock hungry virgin. She was amazed at the similarity between this scene and the one that took place on this very spot over twenty years earlier, in the back seat of Tom's 1952 Ford. Everything was the same-their stormy, tongue dueling, wet, sloppy kisses-his hands fondling, probing, caressing all over her naked body-her breasts, her belly, her thighs, her cunt.
Then Greg did something that caused her to gasp aloud, and give out with a little cry of shocked disbelief. This was too much-too much like what had happened back so many years ago. Greg had been sucking her nipples, causing them to tinge, burn, and grow as hard as little dicks. Two of his fingers were buried to the last knuckle in her lust-tightened cunt. She had been waiting for him to twist up from his kneeling position on the floor, roll between her thighs, and replace his fingers with his achingly longed for cock.
Greg had, instead, scooped her up from the seat in his strong arms, and dropped her over the backrest of the front seat with her head resting on the front cushion, while her feet still remained planted on the back cushion. She hadn't known why Tom had made this strange, rejecting move that night back in 1955, and she had been puzzled, frightened, alarmed. She thought that she didn't smell right, or that he had changed his mind, because her pussy didn't feel right to his finger. She had been about to break into tears of frustration when she shrieked out loud to feel his lips, his tongue down there-back there-on-of all places-her ass! How could he! How could anybody actually kiss anybody there!
But kiss her there he did. He had licked her from stem to stern, from asshole to clit. His tongue had been like a hot, wet, live thing-scampering, wiggling-from hole to hole-going in and out-from one to the other-and she had screamed like an idiot. Nothing in all of her fifteen years had ever felt so good to her, but she was much too shocked by the act to relax and enjoy it.
Such was not the case with Greg. She knew exactly what he had in mind, and she spread her ass cheeks farther apart by swinging her feet up from the seat, and bracing them in the left and right windows. She had almost died of embarrassment and shame when she had heard Tom sniffing and snuffing her down there. She knew she had to stink. She always sweated between her thighs and ass cheeks. When she got excited, her pussy always overflowed, and she knew how it smelled-not unpleasant to her-but it must stink to him. She had thought, "Oh God, why is he doing this to me? Why is he making me feel so ashamed-so humiliated?"
Now she gloried in the sniffing, snuffing, snorting noises that Greg made as he buried his bearded face between her spread cheeks, lifted her, and snuffed even louder at her cunt. She knew exactly how she smelled-especially to a sex loving man-she smelled good down there. The odor of the scented douche that she had taken yesterday afternoon, and the body powder that she had sprinkled into her bushy cunt hair had long since been replaced by her own, natural, female odors-sweat, cunt juice, and other aromatic secretions that had always driven Tom completely out of his mind with lust.
As Greg began to tongue her bottom, she rolled and ground it back into his face. She knew already, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that she had found a magnificent lover, not just a fucker. She had found a connoisseur of cunnilingus, not just a cunt lapper. And she was determined to show him that they were made for each other, to make it so good to him that he would never leave her-never want another woman besides her.
After that first shame filled, shock ridden time back in 1955, she had taken to Tom's eating her out like a duck takes to water. She loved it almost as much as she loved his big, hard cock pounding inside her cunt. After the divorce, she had had her cunt and asshole sucked, licked, and tongue fucked by literally hundreds of men, but few of them could make her cum that way. None of them-not a single one-had been anywhere near as good as Tom. They had only made her miss him more-want him more.
Greg changed all that. She grudgingly conceded to herself that it was probably her overblown imagination, but she was still no less certain that Greg's tongue was better, several degrees hotter, many inches longer, and infinitely more active and busy than even Tom's had ever been. Not only that, but he ate her with a tender, loving passion that had been missing from her sex life for years and years. Even Tom's love making was becoming more and more routine and mechanical before the split-no new surprises-none of the raging fire and flashing lightning of their earlier years together.
Greg's beard added a new, tickly-sexy dimension to what he was doing to her. He ate her hungrily, greedily, voraciously-as though he had been starving for her asshole and genitals for years and years, and was now trying to gorge himself in one feast. In the position he held her, nothing was denied him. He had unobstructed access to every inch of her burning flesh from asshole to navel. When he finally settled in on her sensation-bursting clit, she screamed in the shock of a spontaneous orgasm that started even before his flashing, lashing tongue had begun twirling over her clit at top speed.
And she had began to talk to him-to moan and groan and cry out-to swear and curse and scream loving endearments-egging them both on-driving them both to even more impossible heights of ecstasy.
"Aaaaahhhhghhh-Ooooohhhh-Ummmmnnnyes-yes-Oooohhh yesss, darling-yes, yes-ohhh shit-goddamn-ummmmmm-you do it sooo goood-goddamn-goddamn-I-I'm going t-to c-cum again already-Ohhh-YES-YES YESSSS!-Oooohhh-Ummmmm wh-what are-you-doing t-tooo-meeeee? Oh God-Oooohhh God-shit, babyI've n-nevver h-had my cunt licked soo good before-Uuummm-Ohhh-OOOHHH-N-no-no-th-this is im-im-impossible-but-but I think-I'm going toohhh YES-YES-YESSSSS-OOOOHHHH-PLPLEE-EASE-EASE U-U-UP, HONEY-YOU don't HAVE TO S-STOP-BUT IF I-OOOHHH GODDAMN-SHIT-FUCK-STOP-STOP-I CAN'T TAKE ANYMORE-IT'LL DIIIEEEEEE!" Unable to dislodge his destructive, mind blowing mouth by twisting, bucking, flipping, and flopping on the edge of the seat, Linda reached out and grabbed the steering wheel with both hands. Using the wheel as an anchor, she jerked her thighs out of his strong, clutching hands, snatched her snatch out of his mouth, and managed to pull herself down from her dangerous perch into the front seat.
"I'm-I'm s-sorry, dar-darling," she panted in a small voice after a moment, "b-but you were too much for me. Maybe I'll get used to you-I know I will-but you'll have to give me time. I'm yours-you know that-if you want me, I'm yours anyway, anytime, on your conditions. But let me come back down to earth now-don't touch me just yet-I'll start cumming again if you just lay a finger on me.
"Talk to me for a few minutes-tell me something about yourself-your family. What are your parents like? Do you have brothers and sisters?"
"My parents are beautiful people," Greg began, not really sure what he was going to say, hoping he could fabricate a believable story as he went along. "You remind me of my mother, which was why I was so determined to walk out of that place with you. I'm crazy about Mom-I've wanted to fuck her all my life."
"Your own mother? You've got to be kidding."
"Why? Why have I got to be kidding?"
"Well-uhhh-my goodness-that's-uhhh-incest. Besides, as handsome, virile, and expert at love making as you are, why would you want to? You must have to fight the horny little girls off."
"Incest is just a word," Greg said, "like 'sodomy,' 'cunnilingus,' 'fellatio,' and all the other so-called crimes against nature. Just about every normal, healthy male ever born-some time in his young life wants to fuck his mother-for me it merely extended into my adult life, because my Mom is so fantastically beautiful and sexy. Very few boys ever get the chance, of course, and those few who do, I'm in no position to say whether the results are delightful or disastrous, but for a boy to want to fuck his mother is one of the most natural parts of growing up that I can think of.
"Sure, I have to fight the horny little girls off-horny little girls who wouldn't recognize a good fuck if one crawled up their assholes-horny little dumb-bunnies who close their eyes, grit their teeth, and hope they don't get pregnant every time you stick a cock in them. Are you going to tell me that you are so blind to your sex and beauty that you would be afraid to compete with any inexperienced, immature teenager, no matter how attractive she might be?"
"Touche." Linda laughed. "But you still can't fuck your own mother-but then, you're a man, and I don't know a man who wouldn't fuck anything with a hole in it. But what makes you think that your mother Would even consider letting you fuck her?"
"My Mom loves me, and my Mom loves to fuck," Greg countered, as though that settled the matter. "And not only do I want to, I am going to fuck her if it is the last thing I ever do. Are you going to try to tell me that the thought of fucking your son has never even fleetingly crossed your mind?"
"Well, in the first place, I didn't even say that I had a son," Linda h-edged, "but as a matter-of-fact, I do-the boy that I said you reminded me of-Gregory-well, Gregory is my son. He's just a teenager, and he was just a child when I saw him last. But yes-I'll be perfectly honest with you-I have often wondered how it would be to fuck Greg. I have often wondered what would have happened had we stayed together. I most certainly would not have become the whore that I became, and I just as certainly wouldn't have loved to fuck and be fucked-sucked and be sucked-one bit less than I do now.
"It never entered my mind, though, that Gregory might want to fuck me. But if what you say is true, and most boys really do want to fuck their moms, and if Greg had stayed with me, and if he wanted to, and if that is what it would have taken to keep him with me-yes, there is no doubt in my mind-yes, I would have fucked him."
"I'll tell you what," Greg said with a laugh, rising to lean over and lift her back into the back seat with him, "I'll pretend that you're my Mom, and you pretend that I'm your son, and let's see what develops."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Both Cathy and Tom rushed to the front door to let Tina in, and Cathy beat Tom by a few steps. Jerking the door open, she flung herself into her sister's arms and danced her into the living room, leaving her overnight bag where it had fallen, just inside the front door. Tom got into the act by wrapping his arms around both girls at the same time, and kissing Tina when he could catch her lips. He finally managed to get his body between Cathy's and Tina's, and hold the older girl off at arm's length and stare at her in admiration and awe at the way she had grown even more beautiful and sexy in the intervening three years.
Her hair was dark-almost black-like his, but at 5'4", she was shorter than either her mother or younger sister. Her eyes were enormous, and blue like her mother's, only darker and more smolderingly sexy. She had Linda's classic, delicate nose, and her heavy, pouting, made for cocksucking lips. Her hair was thick, shiny, vibrant. It hung straight down her back to fan out over an ass that was so big, heavy, and softly voluptuous that it seemed out of place on a girl so tiny. Her tits were huge, voluminous, with nipples the size of ripe, red cherries, standing straight out against the thin material of the off-the-shoulder, peasant blouse that she wore. She had a softly firm, deeply naveled belly that sloped seductively, nakedly from under the frilly-shorty blouse before disappearing into the waist band of her hip-hugging, bell bottomed slacks. The pants rode so low over her wide, fleshy hips that shiny black tendrils of her pubic hair peeked over the top, and grew in thin, smoky wisps into the tear drop shaped indentation of her navel. The stretch pants cupped and split her thick lipped cunt like an over ripe peach, pulling it up, out, and open in an eye catching, dick hardening prominence that was more lewdly sexy than had she been stark naked.
"My God, girl-my God-my God," was all that Tom could manage.
"Ooohhh Daddy-Daddy-Daddy," Tina chanted, leaning against his restraining hands, trying to push her way back into his arms. "I've missed you so terribly, terribly much. I've tried to reach you-to contact you-to find out where you were so I could come back to you. I'm so glad to see you-so glad."
"Me, too, Tina, baby," Tom breathed huskily. "I wouldn't have missed this for the world-that's why I stayed-I had to see you-I couldn't leave without seeing you again."
"Where's Mom? Where's Greg? Didn't he make it?" Tina asked.
"Your mother doesn't want to see either of us," Tom said. "She didn't leave word where she would be while we were here, and I didn't try to find out."
"Ohh God, Daddy-what did we do? I'm so sorry-I fucked up, didn't I? It was all my fault-I put you in such a hopeless, helpless, unfair position. What can I do-please tell me what I can do to make it up to you?"
"It wasn't your fault, darling," Tom said, pulling her back into his arms so he wouldn't have to see the tears that were welling in her now smoky-purplisb eyes that had darkened to match her mood of sadness. "It was nobody's and it was everybody's fault-as much mine as yours-as much Carl's and Pat's as either of ours. We all wanted to do what we did that night, and goddamnit, what we did was not wrong-even if we had been doing what Linda thought we were doing-accused us of doing-it wouldn't have been wrong-there was too much love involved for it to have been wrong."
"Ohhh Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, hold me-just hold me tight, don't pull away. I'm glad-proud that I can still give you a hard on-I love feeling it against my belly, and I know that I'm going to love feeling it up inside my belly even more before this day is gone. But there's no hurry, because I'm not going to let you get away from me again-ever. So let's talk first-I want to hear what's been going on with you and Cathy-and I want to see Greg-you didn't answer me-where is he-didn't he make it?"
"He made it," Cathy cut in. "He's over at the Foresters. Want me to call and tell them that you're here?"
"Ummmmm-over at the Foresters, hunh?" Tina said with a teasing smile and raised eyebrows. "Is Junior taking over where you left off, daddykins?"
"Kinda looks that way, doesn't it?" Tom grinned. "But don't worry, he knows that you're supposed to be here-heyyy-you're hours early-you weren't supposed to arrive until this afternoon."
"I know, but I wanted to catch you before you got away. Something told me that you would wait, but I just couldn't take the chance-I got the earliest flight coming this way."
"Well, let's don't stand around like we were saying goodbye instead of hello," Tom said. "Sit down-we've got so much to talk about-who starts?"
"You start, Tina," Cathy said, flopping down on the carpet in front of Tina and Tom, who sat beside each other on the couch. "You look so good-so pretty-so sexy-have you been fucking a lot?" .
Tina actually blushed before answering with a laugh, "My goodness, but haven't we grown up into a shocking set of questions-and with your father sitting right here listening-shame on you. But for your information, yes, little sister, I've been fucking like that well, known mink that promiscuous girls are supposed to fuck like. You've always known everything, Daddy-how did that particular comparison get started? Do minks really fuck so much? I thought it was rabbits."
"Minks, too." Tom laughed. "And it's not so much how often they fuck as the fact that once they get started it turns into a non-stop marathon, sometimes lasting as long as eight hours without pause."
"That's my animal, then, and that's me-like a mink." Tina laughed. "I finished that crumby secretarial school that I was attending out East by the time that I would have normally finished high school. I was heavy into the gay scene while going to school, getting it on with the director, one of my instructors, various and sundry students, and especially my roommate. I ate more pussy, and got my cunt royally eaten more times in any given week than the average woman-married or single-gets that sort of action in any given month. Remind me to teach you a few groovy techniques later, little sis."
"Ohh, I will-I will," Cathy enthused. "Go on-tell us more."
"I got a job immediately as a sort of Jill-of-all-trades-girl friday, at Taro House Publications, a brand new publishing firm just getting started by two brothers-twins-Gary and Terry Stevens. They had just finished college, Gary with a major in business management, and Terry with a major in journalism. I started out doing everything-typing, filing, telephone answering, editing, lay-outs, even keeping the offices clean.
"They were into the occult, science fiction, and soft core porn. At the end of my first interview, I kneeled on the floor behind his desk and gave Gary a blow job. No special reason-not as a bribe to get the job-but just because he was so goddamned handsome and appealing to me. Besides that, he had a hard on from looking up my mini while he talked to me-I don't even own a pair of panties, let alone wear any-and I guess most of all, I just wanted to. Terry came in while I was still sucking Gary's cock, and without so much as a by-your-leave, he lifted me into position for some tongue action, and gave me an asshole rimming and cunt lapping that had me almost biting his brother's dick off.
"And that was the beginning of a fantastically beautiful relationship. They couldn't pay me in cash, so they gave me my salary in shares of stock in the company. To cover my living expenses, I cruised the ultra-expensive clubs and bars, and got myself picked up by ultra-rich dudes with unlimited expense accounts. In no time at all I was earning from $500 to $1,000 per week doing the thing that I do best, and love doing most. Not only did I end up carrying Taro House financially until the business got on its feet, but I also ended up owning 51% of the stock, making me boss of the whole shooting match, and I wasn't but eighteen years old.
"Gary, Terry, and I did a whole hell of a lot of fucking, but we also busted our asses working. I'd go in at 8:30 in the morning, and fuck them both just to relax them-get the pressure off their balls, and free their minds. Sometime later in the day I'd take a fuck-suck break with one or both of them, and if I worked late with one or both, we'd always end the night in a double or threesome on the front office couch.
"Otherwise, we were on the telephones, typewriters, the drawing boards or in the composing rooms nonstop. I got the idea to do a weekly, tongue-in-cheek newsletter, called 'After Ours in The Office.' It dealt with office type sex, and told executives where to find the best, cleanest, most talented call girls, gave secretaries hints about getting their bosses in the sack, gave tips on how to spice up office parties and turn them into sure-fire orgies-etcetera, etcetera.
"Our first run of the newsletter was 5,000 copies, and it was an instant success. After only six months we had 25,000 subscribers, and twice as many news stand sales, and both were rising steadily-Cathy, what on earth are you doing?"
"Don't stop talking," Cathy said, having walked on her knees closer to the couch, and reached out to unzip Tina's pants on the side. "I just want to get you comfortable. Your pants are so tight they're making my pussy sweat-I know what they are doing to you."
"Anyway," Tina went on, lifting her hips so Cathy could peel the skin-tight pants down from her smooth, fat ass, "After Ours made Taro House. Even if we lose money on our other books and magazines-which we won't, since they are all more than holding their own-we'll clear a cool quarter of a million dollars this year from After Ours alone.
"We're ready to spread our wings and fly now," Tina went on, staring fondly down at Cathy who was gazing as though hypnotized into her older sister's impossibly hairy, wide open, juicy cunt. "We're about ready to move to New York City, Los Angeles, or somewhere here in the Midwest-maybe Chicago. I told my guys to hold up on any decisions until I had made this trip home, and gotten a chance to talk to you. What with you being in public relations, Daddy, I thought maybe we could hook something up that would do us both some good. And we are always looking for beautiful, sexy, teenaged models, Cat-think you could handle it?"
"In the nude?" Cathy squealed.
"Yes, in the nude-snowing lots of asshole and wide open cunt. We do a couple of such magazines, and we've done so many series of my hairy ass that our customers are beginning to write us threatening letters about it. They'll flip over your pretty little ass, though. And not only will you be getting all the very best cock and head that you can handle, the pay is super."
"Count me in," Cathy said happily. "I'm ready anytime."
"I can dig it." Tom grinned. "Here, if I can work . things out with Linda-in LA, if I can't. How's the pussy situation in your firm? Except for Jill, my private secretary, all the pussy I've been getting lately, I've had to beat the bushes for, and I've just been too goddamned spoiled all my life to have to start going out looking for pussy at this late date."
"The pussy situation-as you call it, you dirty, old lecher-couldn't be better." Tina grinned. "There's me, of course, and you know that my cunt has always belonged to you, in spite of the fact that you still haven't gotten around to doing anything about it. I'm not fucking anybody on a regular basis, except Gary and Terry. I'm head over ass in love with both of those beautiful studs, and both of them are crazy about me. Since I can't marry both of them, we've decided to just live together as a threesome, and believe me, it's a lifetime arrangement. However, since there are no two men in the world who can keep me sexually satisfied-nor three-nor four-nor five," Tina added, laughing, "I've got enough head, cunt, and asshole to keep your nutsack drained forever, old man."
"Promises-promises." Tom laughed. "Is that all Taro House has to offer-my own daughter's tired, worn out, over-fucked cunt?"
"Not by a damn sight." Tina laughed, playfully punching her father on the shoulder with her fist. "Not counting Gary, Terry, and me, we've got a staff of sixteen hand-picked, custom tailored, expertly programmed fucking machines-nine males and six females. They are our photographers, writers, advertising people, artists, editors, secretaries, and so on. Mona, our executive secretary, can type 90 words a minute while leaning over a desk, with a ten-inch cock pounding in her asshole or cunt, and never make a single mistake. Beginning to get the picture?"
"My God," Tom husked.
"There are absolutely no restrictions on fucking and sucking around the office," Tina went on. "Everybody knows his or her job, and they all do their jobs with pedantic, professional enthusiasm. Still, they fuck and suck before assignments, after assignments, between assignments, even while doing assignments-any time they please, except instead of assignments. Any time of the day you are likely to find somebody-or bodies-getting it on. Even the cleaning woman gets into the act."
"Go on, don't stop talking," Cathy said, leaning forward and pushing Tina's smooth, heavy thighs wider apart with trembling hands. "I'm not very good at this. Last night with Pat and Aunt Syl was my first time ever. But I've got to suck your pussy, Tina-I've got to-you've got me so hot I can't stand it."
"Be my guest," Tina chuckled, scooting her ass all the way off the couch to give Cathy better access. Then lifting both feet from the floor, and resting them lightly on her sister's shoulders, she ended with her knees doubled back to her own breasts, and all of her naked bottom open to Cathy's mouth.
"Good God Gertie, what a gash," Cathy giggled before gluing her open mouth to her sister's cunt hole, and beginning to lustily suck out the accumulated sirupy, crystal clear juices.
Sitting with his arm draped casually over Tina's shoulder, Tom had a perfect view of Cathy's tongue and mouth work on, around, and in Tina's genital swamp. With his free hand, he unbuckled his belt, then unzipped his fly to give his rock-hard cock breathing room. Sticking his fingers inside the slitted fly of his boxer shorts, he worried and wrestled the giant phallus free.
"My God, Daddy," Tina gasped, glancing down as he began to gently stroke his joint, "that damned thing looks like it has grown a foot since I saw it last, and I always did think it was the biggest, most beautiful dick in the world. Here-move your hand-let me do that for you."
Tom obediently moved his left hand away from his cock, and slipped his right hand down inside the bodice of Tina's blouse. He whistled softly at the size and hardness of her nipples, the heavy, firm resilience of her breasts.
"UUUUTJmmmmmm-oooooohhhhhhh," Tina moaned, throwing her head back, "you're a natural born cunt lapper, li'l sis-uuuummmm-you do it good aaahhhhh-real good-ahhhh yes-yessskeep doing it just like that-ummmm-slow and easy-don't try to make me cum yet-just lick it-lick it-your tongue is heavenly."
Then, rolling her big, blue eyes up toward Tom's face, she asked, "What are you thinking, Daddy? I mean we're your daughters-and-and your baby girl-C-Cathy is sucking-oohhh-su-sucking the shit out of my cu-cunt-while-while I jerk you off-what are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking that I'm the luckiest sonofabitch in the whole wide world," Tom said truthfully, and with out hesitation. "I'll bet there is not one father in one million with daughters as beautiful and sexy as mine who wouldn't give practically all that he owns to fuck just one of them. I'm thinking how terribly glad I am that I raised you kids sexually free-encouraged you to have and enjoy sex as early and as often as you chose.
"Remember when you were just a tiny thing, and you asked me what it was I was doing to Mommy when I stuck my big thing in her, and why she moaned and screamed so loud? Remember I told you that we were making love, and she was moaning and screaming because it was so good to her she couldn't keep quiet?"
"Yes-y-yesss-and I told you that when I got big enough, I wanted you to make love with me-to stick your big thing in my little pussy."
"And I told you that by the time you were old enough, you would have so many boys your age fucking you, that you wouldn't want to do it with your old Dad anymore."
"And-and I t-told you that I'd always want to fuck you-that I would always love you-even if I got married, I would still love and want to fuck you."
"Oooohhh-shit-shit, Cathy, g-girl-shit," Tina interrupted her conversation with her father to groan. "Goddamn-shit-lick it, g-girl, lick it-lick that clit-stay on it-stay on it-you're a-about t-toooo m-make meee c-c-cummmmmmmm--yes-yesohhh YESSSSS-rMMMM C-CUMMMMING!"
Tom cut off Tina's orgasmic scream by twisting to kiss her. As he thrilled to the feel of her tongue in his mouth, and the heat and sweetness of her crystaline saliva, he dropped his eyes to Cathy's long, pink tongue, still fluttering like a butterfly's wings over Tina's turgid, swollen clit.
"Fuck me now, Daddy," Tina panted, pulling her mouth away from his, and reaching down with both hands to rip his pants and shorts down his legs. "I see there is nothing I can teach little Cat about eating pussy. Maybe I can show her how to make the most of a big, hard cock pounding in her cunt."
In a moment both of them were naked, and Tina's curvy legs were spread to the winds as Tom lay jammed between them, deeply, powerfully stroking his meat pole into the hottest, tightest, juiciest cunt that he had experienced since Cathy's, whose in turn, had been the hottest, tightest, and best since the teenaged days of Linda.
Cathy was beside herself-nearly exploding with pent up, flaming, youthful lust. She danced about, also stark naked, staring at Tom's cock dancing in and out-in and out-pounding, hammering into the tight, slick cunt that she had just finished licking to orgasm. In the next moment she would move up to stare wide eyed at the expression of unbearable ecstasy on Tina's beautiful, lust-contorted face. For moments she would stand back, listening to Tina's moaning, groaning, urging, and endearments, frantically masturbating her clit with one hand, while she jogged three stiffened fingers in and out of her overflowing cunt with the other. Unable to stand still, Cathy ran back to the foot of the couch to again witness the unbelievable sight of all that thick, ropey meat sliding so easily, effortlessly into that tiny pink hole. Leaning over the arm of the couch, she lifted and fondled her father's heavy, swinging balls. She stuck her tongue out, and licked them, then sucked them into her mouth, one at the time.
Pushing her face farther down, she licked Tina's up-bucking ass, licked her cunt as it strained around the pile-driving cock. Letting her tongue glide back upward, she licked Tom's ass-up and down the crack of his ass, but could not get her tongue into his asshole, because he was bucking too hard, and clenching and contracting his ass muscles on every down-in stroke.
Hopping off the couch and running back up front, she kneeled on the floor and pulled Tina's face to the side and down to kiss her hungrily. She was still not satisfied-still not getting enough. Standing up, she turned her back to the couch and swung her leg over Tina's face, which was still hanging off the couch cushion. She straddled her sister's head, and gave out with a strangled shriek of pleasure as the practiced, expert lesbian began tonguing her bursting clit.
Tom lowered his head, and worried his face between Cathy's bucking, bouncing, wildly gyrating ass cheeks. Clamping his mouth to her bottom, he rode out the storm, slowing her movements down by the sheer strength of his neck muscles, and began licking her asshole with the same pleasure-giving expertise that Tina was using to set fire to her pussy.
Tom's head was spinning and his heart was singing with the thrill, the wonder of what was happening to him. These were not just two women-two of the most incredibly beautiful and sexy teenagers he had ever encountered-these were his daughters-he had spewed them out of his nutsack-raised them in laughter, love, and desire-and now they were his-his in a way that he had always wanted, but never dared hope they would be.
"I love Linda," he said to himself. "I love that woman with all my heart, and I would do anything under the sun to win her back. But my girls have given me a second chance to an almost perfect life, and if Greg isn't successful in getting her back to us, I've got a notion that getting her out of my system ain't gonna be no real big deal."
CHAPTER TWELVE
"Wh-what hap-happened?" Linda asked, blinking her eyes open, and staring up into Greg's face as though she didn't recognize him. "Who-who are you? Where am I? What-what's going on?"
"You fainted," Greg said, "dead away-you've been out for about five minutes."
Linda continued to stare up into his face, blinking foolishly. "Ooooh, I remember," she said, "you're Kevin-oh God, I'm so embarrassed. You were making me cum too hard and fast-I couldn't stand it-I told you I couldn't stand it-why wouldn't you stop?"
"It was your own fault," Greg said, smiling pleasantly down at her. "When you told me that you could cum just as hard and fast from being fucked in the ass as you could from being cunt fucked, I couldn't believe it. Then when you started cumming-started screaming and yelling louder than when I was cunt fucking you-I didn't believe you-I thought you were putting on an act."
"You don't believe anything I say, do you?" Linda asked, returning his smile. "When I told you that I could smoke a cigarette-blow smoke rings-out of my asshole, just like I did on stage out of my cunt, you didn't believe that either. I had to smoke three whole cigarettes-almost set my ass on fire before I could convince you. Your cock is still up my ass-didn't you stop while I was out? What if I had had heart failure-what if I had been dead?"
"Your breathing was regular, your heartbeat was normal," Greg replied, beginning to move again, pushing his bone hard cock slowly deeper into the clinging, frightfully hot and tight musculature of her miraculous asshole. "You're a phenomenon-do you know that? I saw it-I'm feeling it-but I still don't believe it-how do you do it? I don't think I could have stopped even if you had been dead-it's too goddamned good-how do you do it?"
"Practice, natural talents, too, but mostly practice." Linda grinned, causing his mouth to fly open and his eyes to bulge as she squeezed her anal canal muscles tight, stopping the withdrawal of his cock dead-holding it in such a vise-like grip that he couldn't continue the movement. "I can do lots of things with my body that nobody can believe," she went on, relaxing her ass muscles and allowing him to go on slowly, gently cornholing her. "Like, for instance?"
"Like, for instance, I can suck my own cunt. I've always been extremely limber, and I took up tumbling before I started grammar school. I guess I learned the joys of masturbation around the age of eight, and I discovered that my tongue felt better down there than my finger, and I've been eating my own pussy ever since."
"That I've got to see," Greg said, "but not right now-go on-tell me more."
"I guess it was my husband who really turned me into a walking, talking fucking machine," Linda said. "I loved Tom more than anything in this world and he was-in his own words-a natural born, dyed-in-the-wool, happy, happy freak. That is, he only really got turned on from kinky, perverted sex-r-the so-called unnatural acts. But Tom always said, and I've always agreed with him, that the only unnatural sex act is one that can't be performed. Anyway, I lived to please Tom, and I loved to please Tom. Anything he asked me to do with, to, or for him sexually-no matter how kinky-I made damned sure I did it better than any other female in this world could possibly do it. Since he loved my asshole better than any of my other orifices, I concentrated on giving him all he wanted, and making it so good for him that he would never want anybody else's but mine.
"I practiced constantly with my fingers, wieners, vibrators, dildoes. I learned to crush grapes, break eggs, do that cigarette trick with my asshole."
"My God," Greg muttered, "incredible-unbelievable."
"A few years back, a couple of stag movies and a few porno magazines came out featuring homosexual males doing a new thing that they called fist fucking. In these things one guy would ram his whole fist up his lover's asshole, and keep shoving until his forearm went in almost up to the elbow. Now Tom is anything but gay, but those movies really turned him on. He simply could not believe that anybody could take a man's fist and forearm in his asshole without being crippled for life. He said it was trick photography-not only would a man's fist not go in a human asshole-but even if one were forced in, that hole would never return to its natural size-would never close again."
"I'm inclined to agree with Tom," Greg said. "Now don't you try to tell me...."
"I got the KY jelly, smeared up his hand and arm, and told him to see for himself." Linda laughed.
"And he did?"
"He did. No sweat. On the very first try-all the way to his elbow. He was like a small boy with a brand new toy-kept it in there for almost half an hour-he'd pull it out to his wrist, and shove it back in to his elbow-pull it all the way out, and shoot it all the way back in. When he had played to his heart's content, he took a quick shower, and hurried back to bed, hot to fuck. Of course he was sure that my asshole was out of commission, so I had to grab his dick and stick it in myself.
"He almost shat when he discovered that my ass muscles were still so tight that I could stop his cock in mid-stroke." Linda laughed, doing the same to Greg, and relaxing to let him continue.
"Woman-woman-what are you trying to do to me?" Greg moaned. "I love you-love you-love you-I'm crazy about you-what will I have to do to keep you forever?"
"I love you, too, Kevin," Linda said, working with him now, swiveling her ass snakishly up to meet his pile driving thrusts, "and I want you, too, forever and ever-but-but-I'm sorry, darling-it just won't work."
"Won't work? What the hell are you talking about-won't work? We were made for each other-why won't it work?"
"In the first place, I lied to you. I'm not nearly thirty, I'm nearly forty-much closer to forty than thirty. Our difference in ages wouldn't make me an difference, but I also happen to live with my sixteen-year-old daughter, and what I am to the men in the bars in the area, she is to the teenagers-their personal, private, no-charge whore. Cathy looks like I did when I was her age, only she is much prettier and sexier than I was-and I'm just not prepared-not strong enough-to lose my man to one of my daughters again."
"To one of your daughters-again? What do you mean?" Greg asked.
"That's why I divorced my husband," Linda enlightened him. "I caught him fucking our oldest daughter, Christina. Tina was also just sixteen then. I was crushed-finished. I had tried too hard to please Tom in every possible way-especially when it came to sex. Then to lose him to my own-his own-teenaged daughter was just more than I could stand. And it wasn't the incest so much as the insult-the insult to my womanhood and sexuality-to my love and devotion.
"When Tom used to call himself-us-freaks, I thought it was cute-sexy. But his fucking Tina, who was normal in every way, made me really feel like a freak--a freak in the strictest, most conservative sense of the word. I felt like nothing-like dirt-like pure shit. Do you see what I'm trying to say, darling? Can you understand my position? And you needn't say that you wouldn't fuck Cathy, because I know as sure as I know anything that you wouldn't have to-Cathy would fuck you. I know she would, and I also know that no normal man in the world would even try to resist her."
"I have already fucked her," Greg said firmly.
"What? Who? Cathy-my Cathy? When? Where? How? Are--are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. Your real name is Linda, isn't it-Linda Kellerman?"
"Wh-why-uhhh-yes."
"I fucked her yesterday," Greg said. "I didn't know it then, but as soon as you described her, I knew that you were describing the girl that I picked up yesterday afternoon, and took to a motel-Cathy Kellerman. Her pussy was good-she gives good head-her. asshole was good-but that's all, just good. And it's all good-even when it's bad, it's good. Neither Cathy nor any other female-teenaged or any age-can even hold a candle to you, Linda.
"Cathy is a sad, hurt, confused little girl, trying to get back at her mother-trying to make up for her loneliness and lack of genuine love by fucking her brains out. I felt more pity for her than desire. I would have spent the night with her just to keep her company-try to comfort her-to give her the feeling that somebody really cared. But she wouldn't stay. She told me that her brother was coming home, and she wanted to see him-in fact she said she planned to fuck him."
"Oh my God-oh my God," Linda moaned, tears welling in her eyes. "I love her, Kevin-I love all my kids, but they hate my guts for divorcing their father.
I sent Tina away, because I couldn't stand looking at her anymore after what she had done to me-but I still love her. Greg left on his own accord-dropped out of school, and just took off. Cathy has shown in every possible way that she hates me, too, that she can hardly wait until she is old enough to leave me-just like Gregory did."
"That's not what she told me yesterday," Greg said. "She said she loves you with all her heart, but you won't even let her get close to you-won't talk to her-won't listen to her. You say that you love your family, and want them back together, but from all I can gather, you are the one who drove them away, and you are the one who is keeping them away.
"That's not true-that's not true," Linda protested.
"The hell it isn't. I still don't understand the schedule that Cathy tried to explain to me that you had worked out. The way I got it, her father was supposed to have come home late last night to see Greg, but was supposed to leave early this morning, so he couldn't see Tina. Then Tina was to leave tonight so you wouldn't have to see her, and you were going to see Greg briefly tomorrow before he leaves for somewhere overseas-what kind of shit is that, Linda?"
"I had no choice-I-I couldn't do it any other way."
"Bullshit. Do you know something, Linda? You were right-it wouldn't work with us, but not for the insane, irrational reasons that you gave. It wouldn't work with us, because you are a self-centered, selfish, greedy, cold-hearted bitch who feels that everything has to go your way, or no way. You don't give a fuck how many hearts you break-lives you ruin-just be cause your fucking pride-your goddamned vanity was bruised."
"Please-please-please," Linda moaned, tears streaming down her face. "I know I fucked up-I know it-I know it-and I've regretted it every minute of my life since it happened. But it's done-it's done-and there is no undoing it."
Greg felt immeasurably sorry for his sobbing mother. He wanted to end the charade and tell her who he was-take her home and try to work things out. But something held him back. Even though they had not been actively fucking for several minutes, his cock was still embedded in her asshole, and it gave him a perverse, exciting sense of power to have his mother lying naked under him in the back seat of a car, his dick buried in her asshole, while she cried like a baby.
"If Cathy has anything to do with, it will be undone," Greg said. "She swore to me that she was going to get her family back together with or without you included."
"But how can she? Greg is leaving the country. Tom has his business-and I'm sure-his new love life out on the West Coast. Tina might not even show up."
"That's the chance she's willing to take," Greg said. "At least she's trying-hoping. She knows Greg is coming, and she knows her father is coming, and she is going to work something out with those two, at. least. In spite of her youth, immaturity, and confusion, Cathy has it much more together than you have, Linda. She said that she is going to fuck Greg and Tom just to show them how much she loves them-wants to be with them. She said that she knew she couldn't compete with you-that she didn't want to compete with you for their love, or even their cocks. In fact she said that she knew that once Tom got back to your ball of fire ass that he wouldn't even want to look at her that way. But that's just the way she wanted it-she wants you and Tom back together again.
"She knows that Greg will have outside girls-that one day he will even marry and have a family of his own-but that's fine with her, too. All she wants now is the family back together-she wants the love and joy that was lost returned to her life-her family's life. Is that so goddamned hard for you to understand and cope with?"
"Ohh Kevin-Kevin-please don't make me cry anymore," Linda sobbed. "I-I j-just don't know wh-what t-to do-pl-please t-tell me what to do."
"Go back to your family," Greg said. "Go home now and help Cathy patch up the fucking mess that you have made of all of your lives."
"B-but what about-m-me and you?" Linda asked, bringing her tears under control.
"What about us?"
"I mean-will we see each other again?"
"As often as you like," Greg said, "but I kinda got the feeling that ol' Tom is going to be so busy playing catch-up, that he'll keep you fucking day and night for the next several years, so I'm not raising my hopes as to how often I'll be getting between your thighs."
"Oh, there will always be plenty left over for you, baby," Linda giggled. "Not only that, but one of the very few things that I have denied Tom in my whole life with him was the thrill of watching me fuck another man-I'll grant him that wish now-anytime he wants it. I want you around the house, anyway," Linda went on excitedly, seemingly already convinced that the family was indeed going to get back together. "You and Greg will hit it off famously, I just know he will love you, as will both of my daughters. Tina should be just about right for you, and since you've already fucked Cat, you know how you stand there."
"But Tom's wanting to watch you fuck another man doesn't necessarily mean that he wants me to make myself too visible, too often around the place."
"Ohhh, you just don't know that husband of mine," Linda said. "I told you he is a freak. He used to tell me how he would like to have fucking going on around him all the time-even if he were not fucking himself. He said he would like to come home from the office evenings and find the girls in the living room fucking their dates, Greg in the family room fucking the piss out of some girl, and me in the bedroom taking on two or three men at once. He said that one of his greatest wishes is to see me just once in my life get fucked until I say I can't take anymore. If you really put your mind to it, you can grant him that wish, too."
"Tell you what," Greg cried happily, once more beginning to pound his cock savagely in and out of his mother's asshole, "let me get just one more nut, then I'm going to drive you home and see what I can do to help make all of our wishes come true."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Tom, Tina, Cathy, and the Foresters sat around the Kellerman living room laughingly discussing the plans for moving Taro House Publications to Caimbert, where they would merge with Tom's public relations firm. They had already decided to rent space in Tom's old office building until they could build a new office building of their own. Tina had already called Gary and Terry to let them know of the decision, and her two lovers had told her that they would be on the next flight out.
"I teach math, I've got a masters degree in economics, and it's obvious that I know how to invest and handle money. My home, car, and bank account attest to that fact. My stock market earnings are many times higher than my salary, so we needn't haggle over that point," Carl said to the group. "I eat pussy like a champ, and I'd rather fuck than eat. Can't you people find an opening for me? Pun intended."
"Of course, old buddy," Tom said. "I'll take you on as my bookkeeper, even if Taro House doesn't need any worn-out, Old, lecherous has beens. But I'll only take you on as a sort of package deal-Syl will have to come aboard as my private secretary."
"But I can't type a lick," Sylvia laughingly protested.
"How did you say your secretary-uhh-Mona types, Tina?"
"Quite often leaning over a desk with a dick in her cunt or up her ass," Tina replied.
"Can you lean, Syl?" Tom asked, straight faced.
"Oh shit, yes. I can lean, squat, bend, kneel, and lie with the best of them," Syl bragged, "especially with a cock-or two-or three in me somewhere."
"Then you're hired," Tom said. "I'll type my own fucking letters."
"How about me?" Pat asked. "I haven't got any special talents, except in the sex department. But I'd be willing to work in personnel, testing aplicants on their sucking and fucking abilities. I'd even do a job training program for you. Anybody wanting to become a full-time employee would have to learn to fuck and be fucked, suck and be sucked-suitable to the standards of the corporation."
"You're hired," Tina laughingly but seriously replied. "That's the sort of thing that I have been doing on an unofficial basis, but now that we're expanding, we'll take you on in that capacity full time."
"What about Mom?" Cathy asked. "You all seem to have forgotten her very existence. She can still fuck up the whole ballgame, you know. Especially where I'm concerned. I'm still a minor, and I'm still in her custody, and she can forbid me to model for you and make it stick."
"Well, we are still depending on Greg to have fucked some sense into her head by now," Tom said, sobered by the mention of Linda's name, and the reminder that she was still a factor very much to be dealt with. "He hasn't come back yet, and that's a good sign. If he hasn't fucked her, or if he found her, and things didn't work according to plan, he would have checked back in long before now. If he has indeed fucked her, she won't let him get away too soon. As cock hungry as she is, he might have to fuck her for the rest of the day."
"The fact that she is not back bothers rather than reassures me," Carl said. "I'm scared shitless that he fucked her, she was crazy about it, got a flaming crush on him, and he slipped up and told her who he really is. That being the case, he may have driven her farther away than ever. She was already so full of guilt, shame, and self-disgust that the shock of realizing that she had fucked her son-and loved it-could very easily push her all the way overboard ... "
"Yeah-yeah," Tom conceded, "that is a possibility that I've tried to ignore, but couldn't help thinking about. She has a tendency to snap back into her old prudish, conventional frame of mind at the most unsuspecting and what amounts to fatal times. That night that she caught Tina and me together and sank my ship is a perfect example."
"What do you mean, Daddy?" Tina asked.
"Do you remember what happened that night just before she went to the bridge club?" Tom asked.
"Of course, how could I forget it? I've gone over every separate event of that day a thousand times in my mind since it happened. Just before she leftwhile she was in the bedroom getting dressed-you went in there and fucked the holy shit out of her. I got so hot listening to her moans, groans, and screams that I sat there on that couch and finger fucked myself to two smashing orgasms. If Pat and I hadn't had that thing planned with you and Uncle Carl, I swear I would have made you fuck me-even if I had had to rape you-just as soon as she walked out that front door."
"While I was fucking her," Tom reminisced, "I kept telling her to hold it down-that you were right out there in the living room, and could hear everything. She said she didn't care-that she wanted the world to know how good my cock felt in her asshole. She said that since Tina was more than likely already fucking, that she would know exactly what she was going through.
"I wanted to fuck you, Tina, and I had planned to, but I just didn't know how to swing it-I didn't know how she'd take it. No, that's a He-I did know how she'd take it if she found out about it-she would have flipped her wig, and that was the only reason I hadn't already made a stab at your sweet little ass. I knew that as hot and horny as you and I both were, that we would have been fucking at every opportunity, and there was no way that we could have kept it away from Linda for any length of time.
"Anyway, just for the hell of it, I started kidding her about the possibility. I said, 'Well, you'd better drain my nutsack dry, because that daughter of yours is looking sexier to me every day. If you don't make me cum real good, I just might let her take over where you leave off."
She said, "If I leave any cum in your nutsack, honey, she's welcome to it. I'm glad that she and all the other little foxes are there to build up your appetite, because the greatest thrill of my life is to keep you so well fed-so gorged on head, cunt, and asshole, that those little appetizers become my single greatest ally. That's why it doesn't bother me to see her and Cathy walk around naked in front of you anymore-sitting on your lap-hugging and kissing you-I love for them to get you hot-keep you hot for me."
"I even brought Greg into the conversation," Tom went on, "trying to get her really into the idea of sex with the kids. The way she came through, I thought she was ready to draw straws to see which one of us would tackle one of the kids first. I said, "Tina certainly isn't fucking as much as Greg is, but do you know what I caught him doing the other day? I caught him sniffing a pair of your panties while he peeked through your cracked bedroom door watching you use your vibrator, while he jerked off as though that were his only sexual outlet."
"She just giggled, and said, 'I wish I had known he was out there, I might have invited him in. That boy's cock is already almost as big as yours-absolutely gorgeous. He makes me hot, too-but for you. I'm glad that you convinced me to raise the kids like we did-sexually free. They are living, breathing aphrodisiacs for both of us. And I might make the same threat to you that you made to me-fuck me good, old man-make me cum like a waterfall, or I just might kick you out of bed, and replace you with that beautiful, big-cocked son of yours."
"And that's the way it went," Tom concluded, shaking his head. "Can you imagine a conversation like that at 8:00, and a reaction like hers at 11:30? And that's not all. I was so fired up from that conversation that I got a boner on that wouldn't go down. I knew that I was going to be alone with Tina for hours, and I knew that she was hot enough to fuck a stray dog. When she walked, fully dressed, out of that bedroom, heading for her bridge party, I walked out with her, buck assed naked, with my cock hard enough to crack walnuts with. Tina was still sitting on the couch, still flushed and sweating and blushing. Just the smell in the room let us know that she had been finger fucking herself while listening to us. Tell them what her parting words were, Tina."
"'Honey, I wish I had time to deflate that hard on, but I've got to run,' " Tina said. "Then she said to me, 'Tina, don't let your daddy leave here tonight in that condition-keep him here until I get back, even if you have to hogtie him."
"And like Daddy, I was sure that she didn't care if I fucked him." Tina went on, "and I said, 'Don't worry, Mommy, I want let him get away-we've got to keep that gorgeous thing of ours in the family.' All she did was laugh, kiss us both goodbye, and leave just like she did every other Friday night.
"Remember now, I'm sitting there naked, too, and like Daddy said, it was overly obvious what I had just finished doing. Mommy pretended not to notice, but Daddy made no bones about staring bug-eyed right into my red, swollen, oozing cunt. That already frightening cock of his seemed to expand another two inches in all directions. Again I was sorry that Pat and I had chosen that particular night to seduce our fathers, and if I hadn't been so greedy I would have called you, Pat, and postponed the deal until the following Friday night."
"If you hadn't been so greedy? What do you mean?" Pat asked.
"Yes, just plain greedy. If I had postponed our deal, all I would have had that night would have been Daddy. As it was, I planned to suck your pussy, let you suck mine, and hopefully fuck both Daddy and Uncle Carl. And even if I didn't make it with Daddy that night, I knew that once he saw me in action, I had him right where I wanted him, and would be fucking him on a fairly regular basis anyway, so how could I lose?"
"The best laid plans-etcetera, etcetera," Pat said, "so it looks like we're right back where we started. Aunt Linda holds the key. I've got to get back to my man. I haven't seen him since last night, and he'll be sending a search party out for me. Anybody want a quickie before I take all this good stuff away?"
"I've got too much other stuff on my mind," Tom said. "Speaking of your dude-will we get to meet him? What's he like?"
"He's fantabulous," Pat said. "His name is Stanley Nikolai Vinovitch, and I call him the mad Russian. He's tall, handsome, big cock, and all of that shit, and has a brain that you wouldn't believe. He's twenty-two, and finishing up his dissertation for his Ph.D. in psychology-abnormal psychology. He's doing it on patterns of incest in an isolated village in the Ukraine, which is where he was born, and his family has lived for several generations. These people still live in nomadic family clans, and until the revolution, they had to marry within the family. To keep the family growing and expanding, older sons had the privilege of helping the father keep mom knocked up nine months out of every year, and of course, younger sisters were fair game for all male members of the clan."
"Wow," Tom said, "I've got to meet him-that kind of shit intrigues the hell out of me. Have you met him, Carl-Syl?"
"Of course we have," Syl said. "He's a horse cocked, long winded, non-stop fucker, and until he started on his dissertation, he kept me walking bowlegged. He's in isolation now, finishing that thing, and I can hardly wait-if you're around, you'll meet him."
"As I remember, Pat asked a very pertinent question that I think deserves an answer," Cathy said. "Yes, Pat, I want a quickie before you take that good stuff away. Shall we disappear up to my room and leave these old folks to their own devices."
"I've got some things to do at home," Carl said, "and I'm going to have to split soon. So why don't I run up with you two and get a few quick licks myself."
"Well, guess I might as well join the party," Sylvia said, getting up and following the others toward the stairs. "Looks like there isn't going to be any sort of action down here for awhile."
"Looks like we've been abandoned, Daddy," Tina said as the small group disappeared up the stairs. "Any suggestions as to how we might pass the time until something breaks-one way or the other."
"Let's just relax-talk-baby," Tom said. "For once in my life, I couldn't raise a hard-on for love nor money. I'm too uptight-too on edge. We are so goddamned close to another dream situation-so very close to a new and even more beautiful start-and it all hangs by the thread of Linda's actions and decisions. I don't know what I'll do if she doesn't come through."
"You really love her, don't you, Daddy?"
"Yes, oh God, yes-more than life itself."
"I guess you know that if you hadn't brought us up like you did that we'd all be together now-that night never would have happened-are you sorry? If you had it all to do over, would you raise us more conventionally next time around?"
"No-no-no!" Tom declared emphatically. "I am not sorry-hell no, I wouldn't raise you any differently if I could start all over again. It was too good-too much fun-a perfect, endless joy watching you kids grow up in love and freedom. You're happy-remember earlier today, before the Foresters got here, you told me that you were the happiest person on earth-that if your life were any more perfect you couldn't stand it. If you had been raised differently-if we had stayed together-this new life-new love that you've found would have been denied you."
"I just can't help but feel guilty-I keep getting the feeling that I've gotten my new lease on life at your expense," Tina said.
"Throw it out of your mind," Tom replied. "Just don't stop being happy. Don't stop loving, baby. When are Gary and Terry supposed to get here?"
"No telling. I called them at about 8:00 this morning, and they said they were leaving for the airport right then, and would be here on the next thing flying this way."
"OOOOOOHHHMHH-S-SSSUCK IT, AUNT SS-SSSSYL-VIII-AAAAA! SUCK MY PUSSSYYYY EAT MY CLIT!" Cathy's high-pitched girlish squeal came down the stairwell, interrupting the conversation. "OOOOOHHHHH GOD-IT'S SSSOOO GOOD-HAR-DER, P-PAT-SH-SHOVE THAT DILDO HARDER UP MY ASSHOLE-OHHHHOOHHH-OOOHHHH Y-YES-JUST LIKE THAT-AAHHGGH-I-I-IMMMM C-CUMMMMMINNNNG!"
"That, too, Daddy?" Tina asked, tossing her head in the direction from which Cathy's screams were coming. "Is that the way you wanted it?"
"Exactly-precisely," Tom replied. "That's the only kind of screaming I ever want to hear in my house-that's pure music to my ears-better that-far better that kind of screaming than screams of frustration, hate, hostility. And when Linda comes back-and I just feel it in my bones-she's coming back-she's got to come back-those kinds of screams will be shaking the walls and rattling the chandeliers day and night around here."
The front door chimes rang musically before Tina could reply. Tina now had on a simple, sleeveless mini-dress that ended scant inches below the succulent melons of her ass cheeks. Tom was dressed in tee shirt and slacks. They looked at each other-both speculating who it could be.
"Door's open!" Tom called. "Come in!"
The big, oak door swung inward, and two tall, handsome young men stepped hesitantly into the living room.
"Garrrryyyyy-Terrrryyyyyyyy-darlinnnngggggs!" Tina shrieked happily, springing up from the couch to fly across the room and leap into the arms of the one who reached her first. The other one simply wrapped his arms around both of them, and Tina's head moved like a metronome, as she swung it back and forth, kissing them both hungrily, wetly, her pink tongue disappearing alternately into each of their mouths. Each of the young men had one hand down behind Tina, up under her dress, exposing and squeezing one of her ass cheeks.
Finally Tina moved her mouth from theirs, and turned them both facing Tom, with an arm around each of their waists. She nodded her head from left to right, and said, "Daddy, these are my babies-Gary-and Terry. Darlings, this is Tom, my Daddy, the man I've told you so much about. And everything I told you was true, so you need not stand on formalities or inhibitions. Anything that you see that you want-just grab it, and enjoy."
"Hi, fellas, welcome aboard." Tom grinned, amazed at the similarity between the two. Tina had said that they were not identical twins, but he found them to be about as identical as two separate people can be. They both appeared to be exactly 6' tall, and weigh in the low 170's. They both wore their long blond hair in pony tails, both sported long mustaches and short cropped, curly beards, and they both had fine noses, and big, almost effeminate blue eyes. Dropping his eyes to their crotches, he noticed that both brothers had hard-ons, angled down the right leg of their tight, beige slacks. Both cocks stood out in a thick, bulging ridge with thick, fist like heads, and both ended abruptly about nine inches down their thighs.
"Hello, Tom," Gary said.
"Hi'ya, Tom," Terry echoed.
"How do you tell them apart, Tina?" Tom wanted to know.
"They aren't apart," Tina replied. "We aren't apart-we're one-it really doesn't make any difference who is who and which is which. But Gary prefers pussy, and Terry is an asshole man," she added with a grin. "That's one of my private ways of telling them apart."
"Well, don't just stand there," Tom said, trying to put the two obviously embarrassed young brothers at ease. "Sit down-sit down-can I fix you a drink or anything."
"Well, we-uhhh-sort of had-uhh-something else in mind," one of the twins said, giving Tina's ass an extra squeeze.
"Darlings, I told you that you don't have to be embarrassed or inhibited around Daddy," Tina laughed. "The precious dears want to fuck me, Daddy. They haven't had any since this time yesterday, and I know their nuts are aching."
Then to the twins she said, lifting her dress up around her waist, "It will have to be a quickie, babies, like back at the office some mornings, when we've got a busy day ahead of us, and things are already buzzing. Just drop your pants, and get your nuts off right quick. We are in the middle of a rather ticklish situation here, which I'll explain to you just as soon as you relieve the pressure in your balls"
Both Gary and Terry had their pants and shorts down around their ankles, and their big, thick cocks in their fists, even before Tina was finished talking. Turning to face Gary, Tina reached up, looped both arms around his neck, and sprang into the air. She landed with her thighs straddling his narrow waist, and his cock head angled up at the entrance of her already open, wet and twitching cunt.
Tina "uuummmmmed" it into her steamy vulva, sinking slowly down on it, and only paused in her downward plunge when the thick head was pressed firmly against her womb. There was a breathless stillness in the room while Terry bent slightly at his knees behind her, spit-slicked his cock, and shoved it up into the very depths of her down-pointing asshole with one smoothly powerful upward hunch of his thin, muscular ass.
"My God-my God," Tom muttered in awestruck amazement as the standing trio began to fuck like Siamese triplets, joined at their genitals. The brothers were not so much fucking as being fucked. It was Tina who set the rapid fire pace and the steam drill tempo, as her ass fairly flew in a creamy, flashing blur-up and down-in and out-round and round and round. They moved with her, but they had no choice in the matter, they could only hold on tightly, and hammer their cocks straight up and in-straight down and out. Had they tried to match the wild, erratic gyrations of her ass, their cocks would have snapped like dry twigs.
"Fuck me, babies-fuck me, darlings," Tina urged them on. "Oohhhh, how I've missed your lovely cocks-yess-yesss-ohhh fuck me-harder-yes-oh God-ohhh God. You know how I love it-you know how your baby, your whore, your love slave loves for her big dicked, good loving babies to fuck her-yes-yes-like that-like that-dislocate my wombbust my gut-UUUUMMMM-OHHHHOOOHHH-NOW, BABIES-NOW, DARLINNNGS-CUMMM WITH MEEEE-NOOOWWWW!"
"OOOOHHHHHH, GODDAMN!" Gary roared.
"SHIT-SHIT-SHEE-IT! HERE IT COMMMESSSS!" Terry echoed.
From the moment Tina had leaped on the two hard, driving cocks, until both dicks slid slick, slimy, and-swiftly softening out of her asshole and cunt, no more than five minutes had transpired. But to Tom's amazed eyes and hyper-activated senses, it had gone on and on and on. He sighed wistfully, disappointedly as Tina dropped to the floor, and wiggled her ass like a wet poodle, causing her dress to slip back down into place, and her two lovers stepped back to pull up, rezip, and rebutton their pants.
"Where are you going, baby?" Tom asked as Tina started to leave the room.
"To get a bath towel and mop up," Tina replied. "My babies cum a gallon apiece when they don't get their reservoirs emptied two or three times a day, and I'm flooding out of both holes."
Tom said nothing, but he unconsciously licked his lips, and stared at his daughter with such hungry longing in his eyes that she stopped in her tracks, laughing, and walked back to where he was sitting on the couch.
"On second thought," she giggled, flipping her dress back up to her waist, turning her back to her father, and bending low with her thighs widespread, "why should I do all the work around here? Use your handkerchief, your shirt tail-or whatever, and ungoo me, daddykins."
With a muffled groan of lust, Tom grabbed Tina by both ass cheeks and spread the soft, yielding globes wider apart. Thick, silvery globules of cum were oozing from the still fuck-widened opening, as well as down the insides of her thighs from her dribbling cunt hole. Tom attached his mouth like a leech to the back hole, and sucked until it yielded up no more of the thick, tangy slime. He licked greedily up and down the crack of her ass-up and down the insides of her thighs. Slipping from the couch, and dropping to his. knees under her, he lifted his face and licked her cunt; opened his mouth under the spitting hole, and suctioned the last drop of fresh, hot jism into his gulping gullet.
Tina had just straightened and rearranged her clothing and Tom had sank back on the couch with a blissful smile on his face when Cathy rushed down the stairs.
"It's a good thing you people are decent," she cried. "We just saw Mommy and Greg pull up into the driveway from my bedroom window. You got any last minute instructions, Daddy?"
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
"Hello, Tom," Linda said with no apparent surprise in her voice as she let herself in the front door, closed it, and leaned against it.
"Hello, Linda," Tom said, his voice trembling. "My God-I'd forgotten-no-no-I hadn't forgotten how beautiful you are-it's just that you're even more beautiful than I remembered."
"Thanks," Linda said, staring across the room at her ex-husband sitting on the couch. "You look good, too-any changes are for the better. I really didn't expect to find you still here. Where is everybody?"
"Everybody, who?"
"The kids-Cathy, Gregory, Tina?"
"Are you asking me? I should be asking you. The last time I saw them, you had them all."
"Do you mean nobody's here but you? Nobody came?"
"Everybody came," Tom desperately wanted to say, "again and again and again," but he settled for, "What you see is what you get." '
"I fucked up-I really fucked up-didn't I, Tom?"
Tom said nothing.
"If I get on my knees-if I get on my knees and beg you-will you take me back?"
"I never got rid of you," Tom said. "I love you, darling," Linda said. "I love you, too, Linda."
"Then-then-is there a chance that we can try again?"
"What about the kids?"
"What about them? They're grown-even Cathy-Cathy is much more grown up than you'd ever believe. She turned out just like you wanted her to. She's got her own life, and apparently it's what she prefers since she isn't even here to see her brother. As for Greg and Tina...." Linda let the sentence trail off unfinished.
"And yon don't care what happens to them?"
"Yes, I care-of course I care. But I care about me-I care about you, and I want us to get back together, then let the kids decide for themselves what they want to do. I'll go along with anything they want, as long as I've got you."
"You've got me-you know that-you've never really lost me."
"I'm glad-so glad. You haven't changed, have you? Please say you haven't changed."
"I haven't changed," Tom said, "whatever that's supposed to mean."
"I mean-you're still a freak-aren't you?"
"Most definitely."
"Good. And do you still want me to swing with you?"
"Most definitely."
"Good. And do you still want to watch me get the shit fucked out of me by some horse-cocked, longwinded stud?"
"Most definitely."
"Good. I'm so glad. I've got one for me-for us."
"Anybody I know?"
"Of course not. He's a young man that I met just last night-early this morning. And I love him-I love him almost as much as I love you. His name is Kevin, and he reminds me so much of Greg it's frightening-not his looks, necessarily-just his manner-everything about him. Can I keep him?"
"We'll see."
"I'll make a deal with you. If I can keep him, you can fuck Cathy."
"What makes you think I want to fuck Cathy?" Tom asked, his voice trembling again.
"Wait until you see her, and you won't have to ask that question. Any man who looks at Cathy and doesn't want to fuck her, doesn't want to fuck-period. Besides, you fucked Tina when she was Cathy's age, and Cathy's got it all over Tina in the sex department."
"You got it all wrong that night, Linda. I had never touched Tina sexually. Carl Forester had just left a few minutes earlier, and it was Carl who fucked her, not me. Of course I'm not completely innocent-I had just fucked Pat, so I guess it's six of one and half dozen of the other."
"No, it isn't. Why didn't you tell me that? I begged you for an explanation. All I wanted was a lie, an excuse, anything to save my own face-play mad for awhile, and forgive you-but you gave me no choice, you acted as guilty as sin-as if you had no defenses. So you didn't fuck her-okay, you can fuck her, too. You get Cathy and Tina-I get Kevin."
"Wait-wait." Tom laughed. "What is this? What makes you think you can bargain the girls off like-like used furniture? What makes you think they'll go along with your deal?"
"They're your daughters, Tom, that's how I know. Just like I'm your wife. I'm what you have made of me, and they are the same. And I know they love you the same way I love you-I'm a woman with a hot cunt-I know."
"What about Greg?"
"What about him?"
"What if he shows up, after all?"
"Great. Then we'll be even-you'll have Tina and Cathy, and I'll have Greg and Kevin."
"But-but-suppose Greg and Kevin get hooked on Tina and Cathy-and vice versa?"
"So what? We've still got each other. Besides, Kevin fucked Cathy yesterday, but that didn't keep him from fucking me again and again and again. Are you trying to worm out of this? I thought you were the freak in the family."
"Ohh, I am-I am. And I'm truly flabbergasted that you are beginning to see things my way. Where is this dude, Kevin, now?"
"Out in the car waiting for me to come out and tell him that everything is alright-that our family is back together again. He said he would have no part of the deal unless we got back together again. Can I go out and tell him that everything is settled? Can the two of us put on a show for you, then you join in for some three way action?"
"Sure-sure," Tom agreed. "Uhhh-but I'd better take a quick shower first, though. You go out and get him, and you two go on and get started in your bedroom, and I'll join you in a few minutes."
As soon as Linda had stepped out the front door, Tom dashed up the stairs to Linda's room. Jerking the door open he stopped in the doorway and tried to figure out who was doing what and to whom in the tangled heap of panting, sweating, writhing bodies on Cathy's big double bed.
As nearly as he could tell, Gary-or maybe it was Terry-was fucking Cathy. He looked closer and saw that Cathy was taking the massive, pile driving cock in her asshole, and decided that it was Terry doing the fucking. Terry was fucking Cathy, Cathy was sucking Tina's cunt, Carl was fucking Tina in the ass, and Gary was fucking Sylvia in the ass-so it might just as easily have been Gary fucking Cat, and Terry fucking Syl. Tom quit trying to figure it out.
"Hey!-hey!-hey, everybody!" he called out, smacking the closest asses to him to get their attention, and already getting out of his own clothing. "Break it up-break it up-we're all going downstairs to join Greg and Linda in the master bedroom!"
As the group disentangled arms, legs, mouths, and genitals, Tom informed them in rapid, jumbled, confused and happy sentences that everything had worked out even better than expected.
"She's in!" he cried. "Linda is in with us all the way!-she still loves me, wants me back-isn't it wonderful-she's-she's more beautiful and sexy-and oh God-I'm so fucking happy, I could shit. She's back-she loves me, and everything we've got planned-everything I've been trying to get her to do for over twenty damned years has fallen into place-she's ready-hot to trot-Kev-uhh-I mean Gregory got her-he fucked her back to sanity. She wants it all-the works-the whole fucking works-and she loves me-she loves me-she's taking me back!"
"Well, what are we waiting for?" Sylvia asked. "I've been dying to get my tongue in that lovely cunt since the first day I met her. Let's go get her!"
"No-no-wait-wait," Tom said, blocking the doorway, "she still doesn't even know that you people are here. Let's wait until they get started fucking before we walk in on them."
In the ensuing silence, Linda's wailing voice rose up the stairwell loud and clear, "OOOOHHHHH! FUCK MEEE, DARLINNNNNGG! FUCK MEEE, FUCKMEEE-FUCK THE SHIT OUT OF MMMMMEEEEEEE!"
"They've gotten started," Tom said with a happy laugh as he headed for the stairs. "Let's go!"
