Pike Newsome gently pressed my generously large tits together and sucked both excitedly puckered nipples into his mouth at once. That first instant was all it took to clue me that I was in for the greatest sensation I'd yet enjoyed. That first instant when Pike's lips and tongue made contact with those tingling tips of my tits convinced me his mouth owned a higher education than any I'd yet known.
That surprised me, because Pike seemed almost like a withdrawn type from all I'd seen or heard of him in the six weeks since he'd transferred into Beverly Hills High. During those first six weeks in our school, he'd had only two other dates before this first date with me. I can guarantee you that hadn't been for lack of available girls. And the two girls he'd dated had reported with unconcealed disappointment a total lack of any action more exciting than a minimum of polite necking.
Now as Pike's hot lips and burning tongue expertly caressed my happy boobs, I wondered if those two girls hadn't lied? Maybe they'd hoped to throw cold water on the excitement this good looking guy had kicked up among all the girls of our school?
But I didn't have time to speculate any more just then about whether they'd tried to give the rest of us a bum steer about Pike. Just then he slipped a finger into my drooling cunt. I'd been so surprised to find myself actually starting to make out with him the way I was that his caressing finger took me unawares. The first time I'd been finger fucked had been ages ago, during my first year in junior high school. A famous director's son, two years ahead of me in school, had initiated me into the delights of being fingered. So it was hardly a new experience to me. Yet I found the touch of Pike's finger in my feverish cunt triggering sensations that made the whole experience seem new.
I think a little groan came forcing its way up from somewhere deep inside me. My fingers were in Pike's hair and involuntarily I clenched down upon that hair and gave it a sharp little tug as that first mounting wave of sensation roared through me. My lips and teeth closed upon the rim of one of his ears; I gave him a love nip and moved my hips, thrusting my hungry cunt against his hand to encourage him, doing my damndest to tell him "Right on, Lover!" in body language.
Then his caressing finger, slippery and hot with the love honey of my cunt, was stroking my rigid clit. Suddenly that whole little shaft seemed to be blazing. No other boy ever had stirred up so much sensation within me so quickly. Guys who have big reputations around Hollywood as master cunt hounds had fucked me, but their whole cock buried to its roots inside me hadn't been able to give me the charge this Pike was treating me to using only his finger. Of course that mouth of his on my tits was giving that finger one hell of an assist. I found myself feeling very near to blasting off on a skyrocketing first orgasm, like some dumb little cherry just finding out how great sex can be. As one of the most popular girls in Beverly Hills High, I'd long considered myself a veteran of all the sex games people played for pleasure. But this wonderful Pike Newsome guy was wasting no time proving I still had things to learn.
I found part of myself acting like a spectator, looking on in complete amazement as that pounding surf of sensation within me kept growing wilder. Pike's educated tongue kept licking in and out, around and between my rigid nipples, so strained and taunt with excitement; and that burning finger of his kept teasing and caressing my fiery clitoris. I knew vaguely that I was making an almost constant, anguished cry of ecstasy; I didn't know how loud my noise was and didn't care.
That spectator part of me tried to make a note to ask Pike where the hell he'd gotten such an advanced sex education; where he'd learned to do the same things other guys all do to a girl-only Pike had learned to make them feel so much better it was almost like a whole new and completely different bag. I thought, in that detached part of me that still was able to think, at least a little, maybe I could make sort of a joke of it; could ask if advanced sex education was one of the courses his father taught at the local university? We'd found out that much about Pike, that his father was a new professor there. That had been one of the first things, besides Pike's exceptional good looks, that had made him seem somehow special. In Beverly Hills High we had lots of kids whose folks were in the movie or TV business and about as many others whose old man was a big lawyer or doctor of some kind and a few whose families had really big money and stirred their fingers in all kinds of business pies. But we didn't have too many whose family's claim to fame and some degree of fortune was founded solely upon their brains or education.
So Pike's father being a university professor had made him seem as special in a different way as his good looks had. Then our football season got started and we discovered that besides being uncommonly handsome, even for Hollywood and Beverly Hills, and the son of a distinguished professor, our new senior classman was a better quarterback than most college teams could boast.
Every girl in school, I'm almost certain, had her heart set on being the first to fuck our new school hero. But as I've told you, the first two who finally lured him into dating them had sadly confessed later to having struck out completely. That's why that detached part of me kept trying to convince itself I couldn't possibly be feeling everything I thought I was feeling; it had to be simply the most terrific wet dream I'd ever had.
But I didn't want to find out later it had just been a far out dream. I wanted everything I was feeling to be for real, wanted to either know for certain it was for real or shake myself out of it. I pulled one hand away from Pike's head, sent it exploring into his crotch. We both still had on all the clothes we'd started the evening with, but his pantsleg couldn't conceal the tautly swollen shaft of the rock-hard penis imprisoned by the fabric against one smoothly muscled thigh. That eager cock of Pike's was real! A dream, maybe, but a wide-awake dream, a reality instead of a mere fantasy such as triggers wet dreams.
Abruptly I straightened, pulling my nipples away from Pike's hungry mouth, letting my blouse fall back down over my sensation-swollen breasts. He glanced up at me in surprise, eyes questioning. I giggled, amused at his look, and asked, "Why not get some of this clothing out of our way. Lover?"
Pike straightened up, moving away a little toward the steering wheel side of the convertible's front seat as he glanced around at our parking place. Then rather uneasily he asked, "I'd hate to get surprised without my pants on if the police happened to drive by and throw a spotlight on us."
I laughed again and asked, "Did you ever have anything like that happen to you?"
He shook his head and admitted, "No, but it happened to a friend of mine when we were living in Cambridge. And I'd rather do without outside sex than risk that kind of thing. You've got to be able to feel absolutely secure, able to relax completely, able to put everything out of your mind except the intense pleasures you're giving your partner and the terrific sensations you're experiencing yourself, in order to enjoy really good sex. So in a situation like this, I usually avoid letting myself get involved beyond mere preliminaries with an outsider. But ever since I first laid eyes on you, watched the jiggle of those gorgeous boobs of yours as you walked, you've set off a special electricity or chemistry in me. I'm sorry I got carried away there."
"Don't be sorry about anything!" I protested. Pike had scooted over on the seat into position behind the steering wheel and hit the starter. I was suddenly feeling cheated and furious and on the verge of crying with disappointment, all at one time. Desperately I demanded, "What's all this talk about outsiders and doing without outside sex and all? Are you some kind of hillbilly, afraid of outsiders? Or maybe you maintain a personal harem like a sheik, so you can get by without what you call outside sex?"
Pike glanced at me with a wry grin as he put the car into gear and started to back out of our parking place. He murmured, "You're closer than you may think."
"What?" I demanded, about to bawl with frustration.
"I've got four older sisters and my mother to help keep happy," Pike said quietly with a shrug.
That shocked me so I forgot all about my frustration and disappointment and anger. I sat a moment, staring at him in amazement. Pike was busy for that moment, steering the car out of the secluded place where we'd parked and turning back into the winding course of Mulholland Drive. By the time he had accomplished that, I had my cool back. I murmured, "That sounds like a real cozy arrangement. What would it take to become a member of that select inner circle? Do you have to be born to it, or is it possible for an outsider to become an insider?"
Pike glanced at me, frowning, as he got the convertible headed along Mulholland. Then he said, "For gosh sakes, I was only kidding, you know."
At that instant I got one of those inner flashes of female intuition that mystify men so. I smiled at Pike as I leaned back against the seat, relaxing, shaking my head, telling him, "Oh, no, you were not kidding at all. You were just testing me to see how I'd react to such an idea, but almost before you had the words out you decided you were talking too much. That's when you decided to try kidding me... out of taking what you'd just said serious."
Pike glanced at me sharply, his mouth hanging open, then remembered he was driving and glanced abruptly back at the winding road. Suddenly a little chuckle came out of him as he shook his head, "You know something?... You're real spooky."
I suggested, "If lovers' lanes make you nervous, why don't we go rent a motel somewhere so we can have some peace and privacy while we talk this over? Didn't you have a feeling just a few minutes ago that things between us could get real interesting if we gave them half a chance?"
Pike glanced at me again, a little half-smile slightly twisting his lips as he admitted, "I had the same kind of feeling. But I've got a better idea than trying to check into any motel. Some suspicious old character might demand for me to produce proof that you actually are my wife."
"So what's your better idea?" I prompted.
"No one's at home at my house this evening."
"Groovy!" I exclaimed. "Right on, man! What've we been doing up here in the boondocks wasting valuable time?"
Pike laughed, sounding relieved and like he felt filled with delight, then exclaimed, "Maybe it was unhip of me, but this being our very first date I just didn't have the balls to come at you right off with, 'No one's home at my pad so why don't we make it over there and get cracking with a private little orgy?' I thought I'd better invest a little time getting acquainted and at the same time giving myself a chance to decide-" He broke off there, going abruptly silent. I almost died with sudden fear he might be changing his mind.
CHAPTER TWO
Desperate not to give Pike's mood a chance change, I prompted, "Give yourself a chance to decide what?"
"It's not important," he said, putting his right hand over on my bare left thigh, then quickly slipping it upward under the edge of my mini-mini to my pussy. He began stroking its hungry lips with two skillful fingers.
But I knew what he was up to. I didn't do a thing to stop him from what he was doing, but I did tell him, "Don't think you can distract me that way. Give yourself a chance to decide what?"
"How about if I promise to tell you after we spend some time at my place getting better acquainted?" he proposed. I warned, "Don't think I'll forget."
Pike laughed again and began thrusting in and out of my soaking pussy with his strong but gentle fingers. Right away it began feeling better to me than any other guy's whole penis had ever felt inside me. I let myself just melt back into the seat and gave myself over to the enjoyment of it. I waited impatiently every few minutes when he'd pull those delicious fingers out of me and quickly lick and suck my love juice off of them, smacking his lips each time as he did it.
When we got down off the mountain where the street wasn't so crooked and therefore didn't demand as strict attention to his one-handed driving as the canyon road had, Pike glanced at me suddenly, his eyes looking strangely bright, strangely hungry. I asked, "What's the matter, Sweetheart?"
Sounding rather breathless, Pike told me, "I can hardly wait, that's all, Sweetie!"
I giggled. "Wait?... Wait for what?"
"To eat that sweet cunt of yours, that's what," he said almost sharply. "God, but you taste sweet! As sweet as honey. I can't understand what kind of women some guys must get mixed up with, from the things they say when they're rapping about sex."
"Like what kind of things do they say?"
"That a woman's cunt smells like dead fish or something else unappetizing like that," Pike told me. "Guys that say things like that either don't know a damned thing, have never really ever had their hand close to a woman's pussy and are trying to cover up by telling tall tales about fictitious exploits... or else the only women they've known must have been real dogs and filthy besides. My mother and sisters don't taste as sweet as you, but none of them smell or taste even faintly like dead fish or anything else distasteful."
"Maybe we're all just exceptional?" I suggested in a teasing tone. I wanted to draw him out. I felt strangely fascinated by this thing he kept referring to in one way or another between him and his mother and sisters.
Pike shook his head. "I don't think so. There've been other times, now and then, since I was about fourteen, when I've made it with other girls outside my family. But not one of them had a disagreeable taste or smell. No, I think guys who talk like that either are totally ignorant and completely inexperienced and trying to cover up that fact... or they're advertising the fact they have damned poor judgment in their selection of women. One or the other."
"Maybe it's like bad breath or other kinds of body odor, something that varies from one person to the next," I suggested. "Something that varies as individual physical condition and health and personal cleanliness varies."
Pike was thoughtful for an instant, then nodded. "Could be. But I've got a hunch. If it's something like that, I'll bet a woman's mental attitude about sex would be more important in making such a difference than her individual physical health would. Maybe if she has the attitude that sex and everything related to sex is dirty... that attitude is reflected by her body producing a dirty smell in her sex organs."
"How about a man's attitude?" I countered. "Maybe if a man thinks sex is dirty, his attitude makes a woman's sexual parts smell dirty to him even when they don't actually have such an odor at all. Maybe the dirty smell is all in his nose, not in any woman's pussy."
Pike shrugged. "Who knows?... Could be." He glanced at me. "I'm just thankful neither of us have any such problem. Right?"
"Right!" I agreed emphatically. "The best things in life are sex... I mean, free... I mean free sex!"
Pike and I laughed together at my attempted pun. Then he braked suddenly and swung the car sharply off the street into a long, winding driveway leading back into a big old Beverly Hills estate. My father is a pretty successful stockbroker and most of our family friends would rate as rich in just about anyone's book, but none of them called a pad like this one we were approaching "home". I murmured admiringly, "There must be more bread than I realized in the university professor business." Pike shook his head. "Don't let the house and grounds fool you. Dad's salary from the university wouldn't much more than pay the taxes and the gardener and other hired help. He makes more off the books he's written. But his salary and book royalties together are only a drop in the bucket compared to the income he and mother get from stocks and other investments they inherited from their families." He glanced at me and grinned as he brought the car to a stop in a wide breezeway at one side of the big house while he added, "Being a member of the right family is very important, whether you're a university professor or... a Hollywood actor or lawyer or doctor or just an ordinary businessman or a politician." He chuckled, declaring, "Especially if you're a politician. I happen to know. Some of our relatives back East are politicians."
We hopped out of the car and Pike led the way inside through a side door that opened off the breezeway. Just inside the door he stopped, turned back and gathered me into his arms. As our lips met, his tongue came thrusting into my mouth to hungrily explore and caress. I forgot all about the beautiful house, more exciting things rushing in to fill my mind as our tongues caressed and I shoved my cunt against the taut hump Pike's imprisoned penis made in the front of his pants.
Then he tore his mouth away from mine abruptly and swept me off my feet, literally, lifting me in his arms. The feeling of the masculine strength of him, carrying me as effortlessly as if I was some nearly weightless bit of fluff, was somehow terrifically exciting. I hugged my face against his handsome neck and nibbled and kissed at his ear, so hot I felt I was about ready to break into open flame and burn up. Vaguely I was aware of the long stairway Pike hurried up with me. There was a wide upper hallway and a door which opened off of it. Then we were in a large, comfortable room. Pike's room, I somehow knew.
The next instant I was stretched out across a bed, my legs and feet hanging off the edge to the floor. Pike's hands gripped my ankles. My feet were lifted to the edge of the bed, my knees hinging as they were raised and spread. His head went in between my upraised knees and his feverish lips began kissing their way downward along my sensitive inner thigh. God, the tide of sensation that had started building and swelling within my quivering belly! I felt paralyzed.
But I forced my arms to move; grabbed for my skirt, lifted my hips off the bed briefly, and jerked the skirt up out of the way. Mini-mini though it was, there was too damned much of it to take any chances on getting into Pike's way. It was a favorite dress, but I'd have ripped it off rather than risk letting it in any way hinder the terrific things Pike was starting to do to me with those marvelous lips and tongue of his.
Then that beautiful mouth of his was on my feverish pussy! Dear God, what a tidal wave of sensation! I felt a yell tearing its way up out of me but all my ears heard of it seemed faint and far away. Maybe the hammering of blood pressure deafened me to everything else. All kinds of sound and sensation seemed to be roaring and swirling and thundering through me as that tongue of his licked in and out of my sizzling vagina and stroked back and forth along my clitoris by turns. At the same time his lips were sucking at those lower lips of mine, guzzling the love juices out of my pussy like a man suffering desert thirst swigging life-saving water out of a little spring. His eagerness for that flow of mine made the whole experience more erotic than any lovemaking I'd ever enjoyed before then. I'm sure I responded by pouring out more of that love honey than I'd ever produced at any one time before. But I couldn't give Pike more than he wanted; he kept lapping and sucking at me like a greedy bear at a honey tree.
Then Pike's cheek was pressing against my inner thigh, asking me to spread my legs wider. I opened them for him as wide as I could.
Suddenly that marvelous tongue of his was no longer caressing my clitoris or my vulva; I was startled to feel it abruptly thrust deep into the crack of my ass, then up across my anus. The touch of its moist hotness on that sensitive place drove an explosive, "Good Lord!" out of me. Involuntarily my buttock muscles clenched tightly, as if trying to shut that exploring tongue of his out of there.
Almost instantly I heard Pike asking, "Didn't that feel good?"
"Lord, yes!" I gasped. "But don't lick me there unless you really want to."
"No problem," Pike murmured with a quiet chuckle. "Just relax. I promise not to lick you any place I don't want to. So relax."
I forced the tense muscles of my buttocks to relax. The sudden touch of his probing tongue deep within them again almost set off another involuntary spasm in those muscles, but I let the surge of tension off in a yell that must have sounded like someone was killing me.
Half a dozen times Pike's delicious tongue was sent thrusting into the crack of my ass and brought licking up across my quivering anus and on to the lower edge of my drooling cunt. Half a dozen time:-, a strangled cry of painlike ecstasy tore its way out of me from somewhere deep down below my taut diaphragm.
Then the tip of Pike's nose was stroking my excitement-gorged clitoris while his lips and tongue sucked and licked at my juicy vulva. I felt on the verge of blacking out in the flood of sensation. As if from somewhere far away I heard a wavering cry of anguished pleasure; dimly I realized it must be coming out of me.
Just to make sure Pike wouldn't get the wrong idea and think I wasn't enjoying what he was doing, I struggled, feeling strangely weak, managing a slight wriggling motion of my hips as an invitation to him to go right on doing it some more. He didn't disappoint me.
As the tip of Pike's nose stroked my clitoris, the tip of his tongue was thrusting in and out of my cunt, giving me a multi-powered charge of combined clitoral and vaginal sensation. The intensity of it threatened to blast off the top of my head. I screamed, my fingers clutching at my hair. I seemed hardly able to breathe; the muscles of my diaphragm felt like they'd turned to stone. I was suffocating in sensation.
Then Pike's lips moved upward to close over my clitoris; his tongue began caressing it with loving strokes as his lips started sucking it. My senses reeled, almost overwhelmed with sensation. Involuntarily, without a conscious thought, I locked my legs around Pike's head, pinning that marvelous mouth of his against my burning cunt. It began shuddering convulsively with hard, fast pulsations that went pumping through every muscle of my belly and whole lower body as I blasted off on the most terrific orgasm I'd ever experienced. That distant yelling I'd been hearing raised higher, sounding wilder and more anguished. My whole body seemed to have ignited in a spontaneous combustion of unrestrained passion that roared through me like wildfire with each pulsation of my coming. I was a raging inferno of blazing sensation, yet miraculously I was not diminished or consumed.
I was far from inexperienced, sexually, before that first night with Pike Newsome, but I'd never realized just how great having my pussy licked could be until then. I have no idea how long I came, but it was better than a dozen ordinary orgasms rolled into one. When my pulsating muscles finally quieted, I felt as wrung out as a dish rag.
When the ringing of pounding blood pressure began to quiet in my ears, I heard Pike asking, "Enjoy that?"
"I'd have died if it'd been any better," I whispered weakly. "Where'd a guy no older than you ever learn to eat a pussy the way you do?"
He chuckled again, then told me, "I've had five good teachers... my mother and sisters. They've given me more practice than some guys must get in a whole lifetime."
I struggled and raised my head to stare at him, then asked, "You really mean you've eaten your own mother's cunt?"
Pike grinned. "Want to hear my whole story?" he teased.
CHAPTER THREE
In the Newsome household, sex has always been considered just as normal and natural as eating or drinking. My parents' friends were other university faculty members, with few exceptions, and almost all of them equally as liberal in their views about sexual matters.
Like many intellectuals, they were inclined to feel primitive customs are more normal and healthful than the customs developed in supposedly more advanced societies. For example, the practice common to many primitive tribes in many different places around the earth of quieting a baby boy's fretful crying by sucking on his little penis; any kid who keeps crying while receiving that kind of solid comfort has to really be sick and in need of the witch doctor!
Most people in American society would be horrified at the idea of using such a tactic to pacify a restless baby boy. But the same people don't give a second thought to popping the nipple of a bottle or a sucker into his mouth, appeasing his restlessness with food or sweets he really doesn't need. Then they wonder why everyone grows up with a tendency to become overweight.
But my parents, together with some of their university faculty friends, decided the primitives' technique of sucking a boy baby's penis was preferable to stuffing his little gut as a means of soothing him. So from my very earliest memory I was used to having my cock sucked. As I grew older, I remember fussing at times when I didn't actually feel that discontent, just so my mother or one of my older sisters would suck me to make me be quiet.
I'm not certain how many of the primitives use the same technique in caring for girl babies, not usually as pampered by primitives as male offspring, but my parents and their intellectual faculty friends disapproved of any show of partiality between boys and girls. So my sisters before me had known the pleasure of having their baby restlessness soothed by having their little cunts licked by father or mother.
As they got older, they learned to do it for each other when father or mother weren't readily available. As I've said, after I came along they graduated from cunt licking to cock sucking as part of helping baby-sit me.
In turn, before I was walking I'd learned to return the favor, on occasion, having started my education in the fine points of licking a cunt. But for years that reciprocal exchange of sexual favors was restricted, practiced among only my sisters and me, our parents excluded.
Of course they excluded us from areas of their sexual pleasures, too. Some kids grow up with memories of sneaking out of bed to spy on adult parties, watching their parents and their friends play parlor games or dance, the various men in the crowd perhaps sneaking a quick feel of someone else's wife on the sly now and then. My sisters and I grew up watching from seats on the upper steps of the darkened stairway while our parents and their sophisticated faculty friends entertained each other with bare assed sex orgies. We thought absolutely nothing of seeing our father mount the wife of one of the other professors and screw her until sparks were almost literally flying out of her ass and she was screaming and moaning like he was killing her but all the while begging him to fuck her harder and faster.
Nor did it seem startling to us to watch while some other professor fucked our mother. Watching one of the other men screw her was very little different than watching another, with one exception. That exception was the head of the English department, Dr. Lewis Taylor Johnson. He owned a cock that looked like it had been made for servicing mares and he was more vain about it than he was about his Ph.D. and D.Lit., if that's possible, obviously convinced his huge penis was God's gift to women. It was almost as big around as a coke bottle and at least fifteen inches long.
I was only a little kid, not six years old yet, when it became obvious to me that mother and all the other faculty wives attending the swap parties each were doing everything they could think of to avoid being paired with Doctor Stud, as they called him behind his back. I was also aware of how inordinately proud he was of that side of swinging beef, his pet name for his tremendous cock. I remember feeling amazed that any adult could be so stupid, so stone blind to the obvious efforts of all the women at those parties to avoid the ordeal of having to try to couple with him.
But for us kids it always provided a real show, a lot more interesting than watching one of the run-of- the-mill fucking sessions featuring any of the other professors. Mother or any of the other faculty wives could bury any other professor's cock to its roots in her belly within a split second and show no sign of strain or discomfort. In contrast, just getting the massive, swollen head of Dr. Johnson's monstrous penis out of sight inside her painfully stretched vagina required long minutes of the most intense straining and stretching and sweating and sometimes some crying. Then when the huge head of it had finally been forced inside and the great trunk of the massive shaft behind it began disappearing into a woman, I always sat up there on the stairs pop-eyed with amazement, regardless of how many times I watched it happen; it seemed absolutely impossible that any woman could provide room enough inside herself for that tremendous intruder without her lungs being crushed and her heart mashed and stopped. That they were able to live through it always gave me a new surprise.
Whenever mother was the unfortunate recipient of Professor Johnson's sexual servicing, she would hardly be able to get out of bed the next morning and unable to walk without discomfort for several days afterward. I used to feel so sorry for her. Perhaps a little guilty, too, about the strange, sadistic pleasure I'd experienced while watching the actual event the night before.
Come to think of it, my father seemed to look like he was feeling a bit shame-faced at such times too. I wonder if watching Johnson ream mother gave him a kind of sadistic pleasure which later created guilt feelings in him, too? Almost every time it happened mother would swear she was never again going to attend one of the parties. Father never gave her any argument. But she always seemed to have forgotten her vows by the time of the next party. So I guess she really had no one to blame but herself when she was the luckless one. Still I always felt deep sympathy for her at the times of her discomfort while she recovered from a session as Doc Stud's partner. I was about eight years old when I walked into her bathroom as she crawled out of a hot tub she'd been soaking in, trying to soothe the ache in her abused cunt. Her discomfort was so obvious that I impulsively suggested, "Let me kiss your hurt place, mommy. I'll kiss it good and make it all well, just like Dr. Johnson had never hurt you. Let me do that for you, mamma."
She just stared at me for an instant, looking even more startled than she was plain surprised. Then she dropped the big towel she'd just started drying herself with. She put her arms around me and hugged my face against her beautiful bare breasts. I remember noticing in surprise how the nipples suddenly began to pucker and grow hard and erect, something I'd never happened to see take place before.
"So you know about Dr. Johnson, do you, Darling?" she asked in a kind of breathless-sounding whisper.
I nodded, my cheek moving against her naked breast, and said, "But I'll kiss your hurt place and make it all well real soon. The girls say I make it feel real good when I kiss them there. I'll make it feel real good to you too, mommy."
She hugged my head against her breasts more tightly for a moment, then asked, "Would you really like to do that for mommy, Darling?"
I nodded, my cheek again brushing her breast, her now rigid nipple not an inch from my mouth. Suddenly I felt I'd enjoy sucking that pink beauty into my mouth. The next instant I'd done it, drawing a sharp gasp out of mother. Then her fingers fastened upon my hair; I thought at first she in- tended pulling my head away, but I kept sucking and tonguing that excited nipple like I was famished and drinking the water of life from it.
But instead of pulling me away from her tit, mother began groaning quietly, her fingers twining caressingly in my hair. Her breath sounded ragged as she again asked, "Are you sure you'd like to kiss mamma's hurt and make it all well?"
Without releasing her nipple from my greedy mouth, I rolled my eyes up to look at her as I nodded. She took one hand from my hair and put it to my cheek, stroking my cheek caressingly with her fingertips. In that same tight, breathless whisper she murmured, "God, how erotic your mouth feels... It must be a carryover from childhood conditioning to the old-fashioned superstitions and taboos, but I don't know when anything's seemed so exciting to me as just the thought of having my own son-" She broke off abruptly. I've wondered, since, if she might have been suddenly afraid she might lose her nerve if she heard herself say it right out loud. Abruptly she started from the bathroom into the bedroom. I trotted along beside her, still sucking and licking away at her tit like it was solid sugar and I'd never get another chance to taste it if I turned loose.
When mother reached the big king-sized bed, she sat down on the edge of it, leaned back, bracing herself with her hands upon the bed behind her, and spread her long, tapered legs apart, wide and invitingly. I let her nipple slip out of my mouth and began kissing my way downward toward mother's navel; I'd seen men at those swap parties perform cunnilingus about as expertly as that technique of oral sex can be performed.
For some reason it suddenly seemed very important to me to prove to mother that I could give her not mere comfort for her wounds but better tongue servicing than any adult of either sex ever had given her. Young as I was, something about the idea of proving I could give mother sexual service as good as any grown man's stirred a wild, feverish excitement within me.
Down in my pants' crotch my little prick was like a shaft of rock, harder than it ever had felt before. So hard, in fact, it ached a little. But I was aware of the ache of it in only a rather distant, detached way. My whole conscious attention was upon that lovely patch of curly pubic hair on mother's lower belly toward which my hungry lips and tongue were moving. I was trembling with the crackling electricity of my excitement and burning anticipation. Mother, mother, mother, sweet mother!!!
CHAPTER FOUR
As my kisses moved below mother's navel, on downward across her soft lower belly, her breath began running in and out of her in shallow, noisy gasps. She melted backward, her stiff arms slowly hinging and giving away. She lay flat upon her back across that side of the bed by the time my cheek brushed against her curly muff. I could feel the muscles under the skin of her lower belly as tautly rigid with mounting tension as if they were tied into knots. But her legs were hanging off the edge of the bed as limply as two strands of boiled spaghetti.
My oldest sister, Ina, was fourteen at the time and had been having orgasms for more than three years; she'd taught me the importance of not trying to rush a woman's growing passion. So instead of continuing the downward course of my kisses, as mother might have expected, I suddenly drew away. Her tightly closed eyes popped open with a look of wild alarm as a look of protest flashed through her features. "Aren't you going to kiss mamma's hurt, Darling?" she whined plaintively.
I nodded and gave her a reassuring smile as I stooped, caught one of her feet and lifted it to the edge of the mattress. I knelt then and began kissing her ankle, then moved upward along the calf to the back of her knee. As my tongue licked that sensitive place, I suddenly brought one hand to her crotch. I let the fingertips just lightly touch her steaming, hungry crack. I felt pleased by a sudden hunch that mother had already completely forgotten all about the recent abuse that sensitive area had not long before been hurting from.
The lips of. mother's feverish vulva were slippery with the juices of her mounting excitement; she gasped sharply as my fingertips lightly stroked back and forth along her sweet crack. Then her hips raised off the bed, trying to thrust her eager cunt harder against my caressing fingers.
But my older sisters had taught me well how to apply all the tricks we had all observed being applied by experts at the adult orgies we'd grown up spying on; instead of rubbing mother's cunt harder the way she was begging me to, I moved my caressing fingers clear away from it for the moment. I moved them to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. I began a series of lightly caressing strokes from the lower end of her cunt to that area of inner thigh near her knee which I then was licking and kissing. She moaned and reached a hand toward me, fingers spread and searching, wanting to find and grip my hair and draw my head back to her passion-filled belly. But I easily eluded her blindly seeking hand.
Half a dozen times, at least, I repeated that long, feathery-light stroke of my fingertips up over mother's sensitive inner thigh. Then I began kissing my way downward, my lips and tongue caressing the area my fingertips had just charged with super sensitivity.
As my mouth moved lower, ever lower, nearer and nearer to the very throne of mother's sexual sensitivities, a strangled gasp suddenly came from her, a ragged whisper, demanding, "Darling, what in God's name are you trying to do to mommy? You're going to drive me right out of my mind if you get poor mommy any hotter! Kiss mommy's hurt place before she goes crazy."
I raised my mouth from her inner thigh, so near by then to mother's curly muff that the tip of my nose brushed against it, and innocently asked, "Is it hurting worse than it was, mommy?"
She gasped, "Don't stop, Darling, don't stop! Just kiss it and make it well for mommy! Please kiss it and don't make mommy wait any longer! Kiss it, damn it, kiss it!" Her voice had raised to an agonized, pleading cry. A strange new feeling of power flashed through me and quieted somewhat the trembling excitement that had been shaking me.
I took my mouth back to the place on mother's inner thigh where I'd left off. From there I kept going. A moment later I sent my tongue tip flashing into the outer lips of mother's blazing cunt. Like a hummingbird sampling the nectar of a fragrant blossom, I licked lightly into the sweet wetness of her hotly flowing well of excitement. Both her hands grabbed for me that time, fingers desperate to find my hair, to clutch it and pin my mouth to her there.
But again I was too fast for mother. I was lifting her other foot to the edge of the bed as I began kissing and licking my way downward from that other knee, my head out of reach of her futilely searching fingers. A mewing moan of protest came from her taut lips.
As I began kissing my way leisurely back downward toward mother's sweet, luscious cunt again, her usually flat lower belly began to swell and protrude, as if pregnant with skyrocketing inner tension. She began a low, pleading moan: "Hurry, Darling, please hurry! Please hurry, hurry, hurry before poor mommy dies."
The instant her pleading words blurred into an unintelligible moan, I abruptly brought my tongue and lips sweeping downward to mother's anxiously waiting cunt. I sent my tongue driving abruptly through her love-honey coated outer lips. Sent it plunging right on through the hot, quivering inner lips, straight into the steaming tunnel of her vagina.
She gasped. Her back arched up off the bed. She was fighting involuntarily to jerk away from my sudden attack. My mouth had created a tidal wave of sensation too great for mother's reeling senses to endure.
But I was relentless. I kept my hungry lips and searching tongue at her, pressing them into her squirming cunt harder, more demandingly. A sharp cry of anguished ecstasy tore its way from her straining throat.
That was chopped off short as my mouth moved abruptly upward; my lips closed over mother's tautly erect clitoris. I began sucking and licking it gently, bringing a long, low, wavering groan out of her. But her back arched up off the bed again, shoving her flaming cunt against my mouth harder, reaching for the very crest of the maelstrom of passion now thundering through her.
But I released her clitoris from my caressing lips and raised my head. Mother's head came up off the bed, her face looking twisted, contorted with the inner flood of unspeakable sensation shaking her. Sounding enraged, she screamed at me, "Don't stop! You can't stop now! What're you trying to do to me?"
Her torrent of furious words broke off in a sharp, inward sucking of her breath as I shoved three of my fingers into the steaming, slippery tunnel of her vagina and brought the tips up inside her behind her clitoris. I started stroking it from inside there. An explosive gasp erupted from her.
I again covered the outside of her clitoris with my mouth, sucking it with my lips, licking it with my tongue while my fingers continued caressing it from the inner side. That brought another high, trembling scream of ecstasy out of mother. If I'd been as inexperienced as most eight-year-old boys, I'd have been positive poor mother was being killed. But I knew better. I felt like a rookie pitcher who's just pitched a no-hitter his first time out in a big league game.
Again mother's back arched off the bed, thrusting her fevered cunt harder against my sucking lips and fast-stroking tongue. Then I felt the muscles of mother's vagina around my caressing fingers begin to work convulsively. In fact, my lips and tongue could feel muscles around her clitoris throbbing too, gripped by the same long, hard pulsations. I was surprised to see the surface skin of mother's belly move too, reflecting the pulsations of all the muscles throughout that whole area. Even if Ina hadn't familiarized me long before with characteristics of the feminine orgasm, I think I would have known what was happening. And I felt as pleased and proud as if I'd just made the first trip to the moon and back, instead of having blasted her off into a sexual trip to outer space.
Finally mother's pulsations tapered off and her wild orgasm ended. But I kept on with the gently caressing strokes of my fingers inside her. My lips and tongue kept busy on the outside, too. Almost immediately mother was shaken by another tidal wave of pulsations roaring through her whole lower belly and her cunt.
When that second orgasm, apparently more intense even than mother's first, finally ended, I again kept right on with my caresses. Within seconds I triggered her off a third time which lasted even longer than the second.
I kept mother blasting off on orgasm after orgasm, each apparently more intense than the previous one, again and again and again. But finally she failed to respond any further to my continuing caresses; she lay limply unresponsive, as if too utterly exhausted to make the slightest sound or movement.
I straightened up, sitting back on my heels, still kneeling there where I had been beside the edge of the bed. I realized suddenly that the muscles of my neck were screaming with the ache of a cramp from the strained position my head had been in for so long. I began rotating my head upon my shoulders to stretch the knots out of my neck muscles.
While I was doing that, suddenly I heard mother murmuring, "What a sexual artist you are, my little darling. No grown man I've ever known can compare to you. You're a sexual genius. You must be a new incarnation of one of the world's greatest lovers. And to think you're mine!"
At the time mother couldn't have said anything that would have pleased me more. Her unqualified approval of my performance was obvious to me. What wasn't equally obvious to me, because of my tender years, was her feeling of female possessiveness. For several years I lived in a kind of sexual paradise. I grew into puberty and never once experienced the distasteful mess created by a wet dream which my school friends complained about often finding in their pajamas or on their sheets upon awakening after a night's sleep. From the time my body first began producing male juices, one or more members of my private harem of mother and sisters was always ready to welcome me into her mouth or belly to unload my hot charge whenever I had a fresh one ready. So sexual pressure just never had a chance to mount within me to the point of triggering the involuntary release of a wet dream. When other boys talked about the experience, it struck me as being a complete and total waste of good male sex juices that nature had intended they should put to far better use. I felt sorry for them; sorry they weren't lucky enough to have a family like mine in which a growing boy's sexual steam was given constant opportunity to find proper use.
That feeling of my family's superiority to the families of most of my school buddies lasted until I got into junior high school. Then I began hearing those buddies starting to tell stories about their first sexual exploits with girl friends. One day I realized I was the one who was missing out on something really big and important in a boy's life. Sure, I had my beautiful harem always at my beck and call, but other girls or women were still a total mystery to me. Thoughts of trying to seduce one of them filled me with a hopeless feeling of utter inexperience. I was terrified of blundering somehow and being rejected. Perhaps even laughed at.
CHAPTER FIVE
Good looking Pike Newsome paused, shaking his head. A thoughtful frown furrowed his brow as if he was caught up in the memory of what he'd been telling me. I took quick advantage of the interruption.
"Don't you have any sense of adventure?" I teased, wanting to get him distracted from the serious turn his story had taken. "Doesn't an element of mystery help to really turn you on?"
Pike's thoughtful frown changed into a wry grin. Again he shook his head, ruefully declaring, "Not half as much as the risk of getting laughed at turns me off."
"I promise not to laugh," I told him, "no matter what. I like you too much to ever laugh at you. So let's forget that, huh? Let's get out of all these clothes-" I had my blouse unbuttoned, letting my naked boobs thrust out free and unconcealed before me as I paused to slip it off my arms, then continued, "so we can really get acquainted."
Pike was still on his knees, sitting back with his rump on his heels, at the edge of the bed. His eyes had widened at the treat of the full, unrestricted view of my boobs. He murmured, "What a matched pair of beauties!"
He extended both hands, obviously wanting to cup my tits in them, wanting to caress their curving fullness. But I leaned back away from him, wagging a finger at him as I teased, "Naughty, naughty! Not 'til you get your clothes off."
Pike's look of awed admiration changed to a sly smile. He countered, "I'll let you take my clothes off if you'll let me hold your boobs while you undress me."
I patted the bed beside me. "Come on up."
Before the words were out, Pike was on the bed beside me, his hungry hands cupped around my full breasts caressingly. Lord, what hands he had! The local sports writers had been raving about how deft those hands were at handling a football, at passing to a moving target and hitting the target almost every time. But they knew from nothing about how deft those marvelous hands of Pike's really were. Just the touch of those great hands of his cupped around my naked boobs and my dead batteries were started on the fastest quick charge that ever recharged a battery anywhere. If the Olympics had such a competition, Pike would beyond doubt have been the gold medal winner.
His hands on my boobs sent such tingles through my whole body that my hands were shaking so I could hardly unbutton his shirt. Then as I pushed his open shirt back off his broad shoulders, trying to signal him to move those hands away from my boobs long enough to get his arms out of the shirtsleeves, Pike ducked his head suddenly and sucked one of my erect nipples into his wonderful mouth! I nearly peed a little right there on his bed!
But while he held my nipple with his lips, he removed his hand from that breast long enough to get it pulled out of the shirtsleeves. Then he switched his mouth's caresses to my other nipple. Again I almost piddled as fresh waves of tingles went flashing through me. My revived batteries were fast approaching a new full charge. Every nerve in me was growing taut with electrical excitement. How that guy could turn me on!
But there was something more important to me than just enjoying the groovy things he could do to me; I wanted to learn how to turn Pike on the same way he did me. My philosophy about sex has always been that any pleasure that isn't mutual is a phony fantasy indulged in by deluded, pitiful people. To really be good, sex has to have a strong foundation of mutuality. At least that's my conviction from all I've observed and experienced.
So instead of just melting back upon the bed, the way I felt like doing, I suddenly pushed him down on his back before he really knew what I was up to. Then I got my mouth busy on his chest and belly while my hands caressed his strong thighs and crotch, still tautly covered by his pants. When the tip of my exploring tongue touched Pike's belly button, he sucked his breath in sharply.
As my lips and tongue began working their way lower, a low moan of pleasure came from Pike and sent my excitement soaring higher. I began unfastening the fry of his pants, as if I might have it in my mind to give him a head job. It was obvious that didn't do a thing to cool Pike's excitement. While my mouth worked still lower on his hard belly, I used both hands to begin pulling his loosened pants and shorts downward.
As my lips reached the upper edge of his pubic hair, I gave a sudden tug that skinned the pants and shorts down off Pike's entire rump to his upper thighs. That released and revealed the most beautiful cock I'd ever seen on a guy. It was standing at rigid attention, the beautiful rose-blossom head of it thrust up against my cheek, almost stabbing me in the eye.
I paused, raising my head for a better view, and admired the maleness of that pleasure-giver of Pike's openly. I knew it would taste delicious in my mouth. I felt the saliva begin flowing in my eager mouth in anticipation. I was tempted.
But there'd be time for that later. Right now, I reminded myself, I'd be a lot smarter to stick to first things first. And right now the first thing needing doing was convincing Pike that my pussy was no greater mystery than the pussies he was accustomed to and comfortable in, which happened to belong to his own mother and sisters.
Before Pike realized what I was up to, I straddled him. It was one of those situations in which an experienced cunt has all kinds of advantages over an inexperienced one. The two most important advantages were the way my educated cunt could get itself so droolingly well-lubricated on short notice and the sense of experienced feeling in its lips as it reached for and, without a wasted movement, got a firm grip on an inexpert or bashful penis groping its way uncertainly toward a coupling.
So now my cunt found Pike's beautiful hardness and swallowed it up so smoothly and quickly that we were not only firmly but deeply coupled before he realized our sexual parts had even actually made initial contact. I contracted inner muscles that guys have told me give them a feeling like a hot, honey-coated little hand was clamping down gently around the head of their cock inside me. A noisy gasp came out of Pike.
"Did that hurt?" I asked, certain of his answer.
"Lord, no!" he responded, his words coming out in two explosive grunts. Then he added, "Just never felt anything quite like it. Surprised me."
"Really?" I giggled.
"Better believe it!" Pike exclaimed. "Mother nor any of my big sisters ever gave this kid that kind of a tingle. Don't anyone ever try to tell me different pussies aren't different."
I told him, "I don't think it's different pussies that're so different as much as it is the different gals who they belong to use them different." I gave him another tweak with those special inner muscles.
Another explosive gasp came out of Pike, then he exclaimed, "You'd better believe it!" He drew several ragged breaths, then declared, "If you're saying you think every other woman has the equipment it takes to do the same thing you just did to me, all I have to say is a lot of other women must be wasting their potential!"
"Maybe some of it depends on the inspiration a woman has," I murmured. "Maybe you've never inspired any other woman the way you inspire me. You give me a charge like I've never, ever had before!" Just for emphasis, I gave the head of his beautiful cock buried deep inside me another of those little grips that seemed to kick up so much sensation for him; that brought another grunting gasp out of him. I began rotating my hips, making my bottom undulate against him which caused his rigid penis to stir around deep inside my belly. Pike groaned again. Somehow that made me feel better than I remembered ever having felt before. "Feel good?" I asked. "Good isn't the name for it!" Pike exclaimed gustily. "Good Lord, you're fantastic! I'm already just about to come!"
"So relax and live a little," I encouraged. "I'm already one or maybe six or a dozen orgasms up on you," I reminded him, then flippantly added, "but who counts?"
I lifted my rear, drawing Pike's joy-stick slowly out of me through the rippling rings of muscles around my vaginal tube. But before the head of it quite escaped the grasp of those lower lips of mine, I reversed the direction of my movement. As Pike's cock slipped back into me, deeper and still deeper, I began making my belly grind like a belly-dancer does. A strained, trembling yell came out of Pike, sounding almost like what you'd expect if someone had touched him with a hot iron. His hands grabbed me by the cheeks of my ass, fingers kneading my flesh convulsively like he'd lost all conscious control over them.
Suddenly I let myself flatten against him. His swelling penis was driven back into me to its very hilt. I began milking at the burning head of it with those inner muscles. At the same time I wrapped my arms around Pike, then threw myself sideways, rolling us over, bringing him up on top of me.
Pike caught his weight upon his knees by pure instinct, I think, and gave me a mighty hump as if determined to get into me even deeper. I helped him every way I could, thrusting back at him so hard my back arched and my butt lifted off his bed, while keeping those inner belly muscles busy as before.
A wild, wavering yell began coming out of Pike almost continuously. He hammered that delicious cock of his into me, in and out, then in and out and in again, so fast and hard I distinctly felt his balls slapping my asshole. Our naked bellies were coming together with a sound almost exactly like that made by clapping your hands together. He was riding me wild and hard, as if his very life depended upon his succeeding in nailing my ass to that mattress permanently.
But I'm not easy to nail flat to a mattress. I kept taking everything he pushed at me and shoving back at him for more. It was a contest no woman who knows what she's doing can lose, a contest no man can win if his partner knows anything at all.
It was close, however. The recharge he'd given me with just his loving hands on my breasts before we coupled up suddenly was reinforced and multiplied. Pike's thrusting into me was making the lips of my vulva work up and down, back and forth, on the sensitive shaft of my clitoris. All I'd hoped for out of this first coupling with dreamboat Pike was to blast him off on a trip he'd long remember. But suddenly I felt a mushrooming surge of sexual tension about to trigger into orgasmic blastoff within my own belly.
Then the yell that had been coming out of Pike as he lunged over me, sledgehammering his beautiful spike into me, suddenly seemed to fade. At the same time I knew it was rising to a more frantic pitch, a desperate intensity. That same instant I abruptly felt his hammering penis explode into a pulsating geyser. Time after time it seemed to fill and bathe every part of my inner cavity with the thick, rich, steamy hotness of his love juices.
The delicious feel of his fiery, spurting honey covering my supersensitive inner surfaces tripped my trigger. I continued to fight and struggle against the power of his marvelous body, desperately trying to answer every thrust and beg for more. Still I almost completely lost all awareness of Pike and anything he was doing. My consciousness was nearly swept away by the raging flood of my own sensations. Orgasms were no new experience to me by any stretch of imagination, but that first simultaneous orgasm with Pike set a new all-time high in my experience up until then. Fantastic!
It's just impossible to describe an orgasm like that one. Words haven't been invented yet that begin to convey either the quality or the quantity of sensation. It seemed to go on and on and on and on, as if it would never end. I remember vaguely wondering if I'd gotten something started that could never stop until it had so completely drained me of all energy that I died. And the thought didn't frighten me in the least. I remember thinking, "Great God, if that's the way it's to be, what great good did I ever do to deserve it? What a groovy way to go!"
Then things began blacking out. I seem to remember feeling like I had a big, silly smile spread all over my face. The blackness I was sinking into seemed like a beautiful sea of concentrated bliss. I sank into it without a struggle.
CHAPTER SIX
Someone was shaking my shoulder gently but insistently. I heard Pike's amused voice quietly demanding, "Tish, baby... where'd you go?... Tish, Sweetie T.. come on back, wherever you are."
I managed to raise the heavy lid of one eye and found Pike stretched upon his bed beside me, his head propped up on one elbow as he looked down at me. From the expression on his face, the dreamy look in his eyes, he was obviously feeling no more pain than I was.
But I pretended to think otherwise. Putting on a sudden worried frown, I deliberately whined in the loudest whisper I could muster, "You mean you didn't come?"
Pike rolled his eyes upward, shaking his head slowly as he exclaimed, "You've got to be kidding!"
I couldn't repress a smile, it made me feel so good the way he said that. Then I asked, "Was it good?"
"Sensational!"
"Really?"
"If it'd been any better-" Pike broke off, searching for words. He shook his head again, then declared, "If it'd been any better, I don't think I could've stood it."
"Really?" I persisted, delighted with his response.
Pike nodded emphatically and exclaimed, "Phenomenal! Fantastic! Indescribable!"
A thought struck me. "As good as your mother or any of your sisters ever make it?"
Pike snorted, "Compared to you-" He broke off, shaking his head, then began again, "There's just no way any of them can be compared to you. I never would have believed there could be such a fantastic difference between what a guy gets out of sex with one woman and what he gets with another. Where have you been all my life? And don't make faces or say anything about that being corny. Hear? I mean it! When I think of all I've been missing out on-" I interrupted, lifting a hand to cover his lips as I told him, "Stop sounding like a square. The past is past and can't be changed, so why waste time thinking about it? Think of all the fun we'll have together from now on."
Pike's face lighted up with a big smile and he rolled his head and his eyes as if on the verge of going into a swoon, clowning it up. Then he whispered with pretended breathlessness, "I get all weak just thinking about that. My career as a high school athlete may go straight to hell, but I won't give a damn if it does. From tonight on, keeping you constantly satisfied is my most important ambition."
I teased, "Sometimes I take a lot of satisfying."
"I hope so," he teased right back.
"Think you're man enough?" I kept on.
Pike suddenly sobered, then declared seriously "I'm ready to leave my bare bones stacked in you lovely ass, if I'm not man enough."
"You mean you'd rather kill yourself trying in stead of accepting a little outside help, now an then, maybe?" I persisted.
"Outside help, hell!" Pike exclaimed. "You' my girl, from here on!"
Then he leaned down to me and kissed me, his tongue thrusting through my lips and into my mouth possessively. As the kiss continued, one of his hands cupped itself around one of my breasts, then the thumb and forefinger began rolling my nipple between them. I was amazed when that plus our caressing tongues was enough to bring to blazing life a new flame of growing desire, somewhere deep within my belly.
I reached one hand to Pike, found his limp penis, and began caressing it and his balls below it. But he broke the kiss before I'd more than just started that caress, to tell me ruefully, "That feels great; your hand is really something else. Greater than being in any other woman's cunt. But don't expect that soft little thing in your hand to do anything except stay a soft little thing for at least another half hour. It takes time to put lead back in that pencil after a workout like you gave it."
"And you just said what you did about not accepting a little outside help," I chided.
"And don't you forget it!" Pike exclaimed in mock seriousness. "That thing in your hand may be soft, but I've got a tongue that's always hard. If you're ready for another go-round-" I cut in on him, admitting, "I'm only teasing!"
"Well, just don't forget what I said," he warned with pretended grimness, "you're my girl from here on and I'm the guy who'll give you all you need of whatever you need, and no outside help wanted or accepted."
I gave him a mock military salute, declaring, "Gotcha!"
Pike laughed and leaned over me again, but this time to kiss me only briefly, his lips merely brushing mine lightly. As he raised his head away from mine again, I told him, "I'll bet even if my hand can't do it that I know a way to put a full charge of lead back into your pencil in a lot less time than you said. Want me to show you?"
"Maybe some other time," Pike told me. "Right now I just want to lay here and look at you... Why don't you get rid of that damned skirt so I can see all of you?"
"Look who's talking," I chided. "Why don't you get your shoes and socks off, at least? You're as bad as the stories I've heard around Hollywood about old Errol Flynn. And while you're about it, get your pants and shorts off, too, why don't you?"
Pike glanced down at himself, at his slacks and shorts still hobbling him at the knees, and laughed, then exclaimed, "Boy, I really do look like I was the old eager beaver, don't I?"
He sat up and began removing the rest of his clothing. I straightened up off the bed just enough and just long enough to enable me to pull my mini off over my head. Then I flopped back down upon the bed, head turned so I could stare at Pike's back, watching as he got his pants and shorts off. As I lay there like that I asked him, "You really do like making it with me better than with your mother or sisters?"
"No comparison, like I said," Pike declared flatly. Then he admitted, "When I didn't know any different, I thought they were great. But now-" He glanced around, giving me a searching look, then declared, "And maybe to someone else they really would be great. I really think what makes the big difference in how great it is between us is something... intangible. Maybe it's something electrical between us... Our magnetic field of mutual vibration, maybe... Or maybe something chemical. I don't know. But I just feel sure somehow, that the really big difference has no relationship to anything... physical... Know what I mean?"
I nodded.
Suddenly Pike frowned, then asked slowly, almost accusingly, "Was it ever as good for you with anyone else?"
I shook my head.
"You sure?" Pike insisted.
I nodded.
He stared at me as if feeling uncertain whether or not he could believe me. To distract him, I asked, "What was it like the first time you ever really... you know... got into your own mother?"
Pike turned himself to sit sideways on the edge of the bed, chuckling as he did, then glanced straight at me again as he suggested, "I guess that seems pretty far out to you, me having screwed my own mother?"
"Well," I admitted, "You're not quite the first guy I've ever fucked, but you definitely are the very first guy I've ever fucked who makes no secret of the fact that he's also fucked his own mother. Even more than that, from what you say it hasn't been a matter of having fucked her just one isolated time, or even just now and then on rare occasions. The way I've gotten the picture, you've been fucking your mother regularly for quite a few years, now."
Pike nodded. "That's right. I am a bonafide, dyed"-in-the-wool, certified mother-fucker. But you're the only person outside of my mother and sisters who knows it. Even my own father doesn't know how much help I've given him. I've made no secret of it to you, because you're so special. But I definitely do make a secret of the fact with everyone else. You're the only exception. And now that I've found out how indescribably great a simple screw can be with you, I seriously doubt if I'll ever touch poor old mother again. I'm gonna save all I've got to deposit in your luscious cunt."
"She may not like it if you cut her off like that," I told him. "You're liable to make her hate me. When she finds out about us, she may try to tear my hair out and scratch my eyes out too, if you've chopped her off that way. Have you thought about that?"
He shook his head, frowning thoughtfully, then murmured, "That wouldn't be good at all... And you might be right." Then he glanced at me, asking, "So what do I do?"
"Simple," I said with a casual shrug. "Be generous. Keep on giving your mom her treat, but maybe not quite so often. After all, she's been sharing you with four other women right along."
"But not four others like you," Pike pointed out emphatically.
"I won't be too demanding," I promised. "I'd rather have her like me than make her want to break us up. And if you cut her off completely, that's what'll happen. How long's it been since you first began giving her your treats?"
"Quite a while," Pike admitted. "Like I told you before, I was eight years old the first time I licked mother's cunt for her, wanting to make it well again after she'd had it stretched all to hell. Maybe even torn a little, the night before, at one of the faculty swap parties It'd been her turn' to service the horse-cock old Dr. Johnson was so proud of. Remember?"
"I remember," I nodded.
"Well, I did some growing during the next four or five years after that," Pike went on. "When I was about twelve, I began shooting a wad when mother or one of the girls sucked me off. It wasn't long after that before my oldest sister, Ina, got the bright idea of doing some experimenting."
"Experimenting? "
"Yeah," Pike nodded. "Like fitting my stiff cock into her pussy. Until then oral sex had kept all us kids happy, but Ina was sixteen by then, going on seventeen, and I guess her pussy'd been getting hungry for something that'd go into it deeper than a tongue can ever get."
"I'd think so," I nodded sympathetically. "I never could've waited that long, even if I'd been getting relief through oral sex."
Pike nodded, grinning as he said, "Oral sex can be great, but good screwing is one hell of a lot greater. Ina and I found that out the very first time. So right away the twins, Jill and Mia, insisted they be included in on our new sex game. They were fifteen, only thirteen months younger than Ina, and every bit as hot.
"But everything the older three did, BeBe had to do too, whether she really enjoyed it or not. She was only thirteen, then, just fourteen months older than I was. Didn't seem to have gotten up her sexual steam too much yet. But-just to keep from feeling left out of something the older girls were doing, BeBe insisted on having a turn at screwing me at least once a week... as if I needed any more screwing after banging each of the older three an average of about three times every week. That was some workout for a twelve-year-old boy to keep up as a regular habit. Sometimes it seemed like all I had time to do was eat and fuck and eat some more so I could fuck some more and maybe grow a little on the side.
"But the human body is a marvelous mechanism. If you keep making demands on it that seem to push it to the brink of exhaustion, instead of wearing out it steadily builds itself up. Before long it's carrying what once seemed like an impossible load as if it was the easiest thing in the world. So by the time I turned thirteen, I'd developed into quite a sexual athlete. Once I serviced all four sisters three times each within one period of only twelve hours.
"While I was giving Ina her third and final screw, the other three were supposed to be standing lookout for us. But I'd serviced each of them so well by then that they went to sleep, instead. So when Ina came back out of orbit after her last orgasm, about her nineteenth or twentieth for the day, she opened her eyes and guess what?... there stood Mom. I was still busy sucking away at Ina's tits; just because she'd been on a trip to outer space didn't mean she wouldn't fire up and blast off on another one right away if I hung in there and kept sucking. But she raised up suddenly, pulling her tits away from me. When I looked up to find out what was going on, I saw mom too, standing there beside the bed watching us. I glanced up at Ina, still astride me, my stiff young root still buried to its hilt in her cunt. I found her staring at mom like she'd frozen. Old Ina didn't know whether to shit or go blind.
"Well, mom was considerate enough to realize our uncertainty about her reaction and not keep us dangling; she just smiled like she'd walked in on the middle of a game of dominoes and asked, 'How long's this been going on? It looks like fun.' "I thought Ina was going to faint with relief.
She began babbling, talking so fast she ran all her words together into an unintelligible jumble. But mom stopped her, interrupting to ask, 'Does brother make it feel as good with his joy-stick, Ina, as he does with his sweet mouth?' "Ina gasped, 'Like out of sight, mom! No comparison! He's just fantastic!' "Mom arched an eyebrow and said, 'This sounds like something a conscientious mother really ought to look into.' "
CHAPTER SEVEN
I suppose if I'd been raised like the average guy, it might have given me some kind of block about fucking my own mother. But after all, I'd been licking mom's cunt, like I said earlier, ever since I was eight. Before that I'd been licking my four sisters' cunts ever since I could remember; doing the same for mom hadn't seemed like any particularly big deal to me. There just isn't that much difference between eating one pussy and eating another, except mom's had more hair around it than any of the girls' did.
It was the same way, after Ina broke me in to fucking; in very short order I'd gotten used to servicing her and the other girls a total of from ten to twenty times a week. Fucking seemed about as natural to me as eating pussy or an ice cream sundae or drinking a coke.
So when mom asked Ina if she didn't think she ought to give her a turn and started peeling out of her clothes, I really didn't think anything special about it. While mom was getting her clothes off, Ina stayed in the saddle and kept stroking my joystick in and out of her, keeping it hot and ready for mom.
When mom had herself peeled and naked, which didn't take her more than seconds, Ina rolled off and mom straddled me. Her eyes were kind of feverish bright. Her whole body seemed to be trembling. She seemed to be having trouble getting her breath. Her face was flushed like she'd been running hard or something like that.
Mom's knees had hardly hit the mattress on either side of me before she was reaching down between her legs with one hand to grab my stiff young cock. Her hand around it felt like it was burning with a fever. She let her hips settle, bringing her cunt down to meet my prong. She checked that downward movement as the head of my cock started into the lips of her drooling pussy. Her burning hand moved the head of my rod up and down through her steaming cunt, from top to bottom, back and forth.
Mom's eyes were closed, clenched shut tight by then. Her face was screwed up in a grimace, as if she was bracing herself against pain. A low, almost inaudible moan began coming from her lips. Then I heard her murmur, as if thinking out loud, "God, no wonder every mother has dreams of doing this! And I'm the one in a million who ever actually experiences her dream! I'm actually having my own dear son as my lover! What a fantastic floodtide of sensation!"
I asked, "What'd you say, mom?"
She gave a little start at sound of my voice, her eyes popped open, she looked down at me as if amazed to find me really there under her. "Nothing, Sweetie," she said suddenly. Then she added, "I'd just never realized what a real Sweetie you've grown into!"
She might have said more but her beautiful, big, full tits were hanging down right in my face, so just then I pressed them together with both hands and sucked her rigid nipples into my mouth. That brought a gasping groan out of her. And she didn't waste any more time waving the head of my cock back and forth through the outer lips of her joy-box; she shoved the head of it into the doorway to her temple of love, then dropped her whole ass on me, driving my shaft into her to its roots. Her muscles jerked tight around it, spasmlike. A high, wavering yell came out of her like she was in agony. Scared hell out of me for an instant; the girls all did some moaning when I was making it good for them, but none of them ever had yelped like mom just had.
But I got over my scare real quick; the way she began humping me made it obvious she was enjoying whatever pain she might be feeling. I went back to work on the knoblike hardness of her excited nipples. As if that had triggered it, another long, high, anguished yell came out of mom. I seemed to feel every muscle in her whole lower belly blast off into a frenzy of pulsations. My rocket was taking her up, up, and away on her first wild ride to the stars. That surprised me, not because I didn't expect it to happen but simply because I hadn't expected it to happen so soon. In the same brief length of time mom had been coupled up with me, any of my sisters would've just been starting to get warmed up good.
Of course since then I've gotten older, and, let's hope, a little wiser. I've come to understand that what really triggered mom off so fast was the terrific mental charge she'd gotten out of the idea of fucking her own son. It really must have been one whale of a charge. Her orgasms lasted longer than any two I'd ever known one of my sisters to have. More than that, she'd no more than come down from one than she was blasting off again on another. All the time she was yelling and riding me like she was determined to pound my ass straight through that mattress to the floor below. I just hung onto her big tits and kept sucking.
That went on and on and on for what seemed to me like at least an hour. Then just as suddenly as mom had blasted off she suddenly stopped, shuddered. A long, low moan came out of her. She collapsed on top of me like a deflated balloon. In the sudden silence, I seemed able to actually hear her heart thundering within her like a racing triphammer. I know I could feel it as she lay sprawled upon me, her breasts squeezed against my chest.
Then I heard Ina's frightened voice demanding, "What on earth have you done to poor momma?"
Mother's dead weight upon me began shifting, turning to one side slowly. Suddenly she rolled off, jerking my still-stiff joint abruptly out of the hot, juicy goodness of her now thoroughly relaxed cunt.
I found myself laying there staring up into the big-eyed, worried faces of all four of the girls. They straightened from their common effort to turning mother from her belly, on top of me, to her back upon the bed at my side. Suddenly I felt they were all four accusing me silently of something. For some strange reason I felt guilty as all hell, like maybe I'd killed mom, or something. Only instead of being caught red-handed, I'd been caught slippery-dicked.
Fortunately mom stirred just then and murmured, "Don't you dare blame Pikey for doing anything he shouldn't have, you girls. You hear me?"
My four sisters nodded in unison, looking mutely grateful for the demonstration that mother could still speak.
Instantly I propped myself up on one elbow so I could see mom's face. I couldn't remember ever having seen her look so totally relaxed, so completely out of reach of the feeling of any pain. Slowly her eyes moved in my direction and fixed upon me. Her face moved slowly until it had created a blissful smile upon her features. She murmured, "You are fantastic!... My very own fantastic lover boy."
Then her eyes moved downward from my face, covering my chest, then my belly. She had to twist her head a little, but finally she managed to bring my still rigid prong into her range of vision Instantly she frowned. Her eyes hurried back up to my face, the look in them very near hurt. Her tone was plaintive as she murmured, "You haven't ejaculated!... Didn't mommy make it feel good to you at all, Pikey?"
I lied, "I was practicing the Hindu technique of distraction, mother... maintaining a controlled level of sensation below the point of involuntary completion. I wanted to make certain you had an opportunity to experience complete satisfaction."
"As if you had a thing in the world to worry about, you silly boy," mother chided. Then she instantly contradicted herself by adding, "There's no possible way I could experience complete satisfaction until you've filled mommy's hungry tummy with your sweet come-juice. If you really want to make mommy happy-" She broke off because I'd already started climbing into position between her long, beautiful legs. There's a trite saying that, "A stiff cock has no conscience," and in my case, at least, an added phrase, "... and never needs a second invitation," would be equally apt. I rammed my root into mother's juicy pussy to the hilt.
That brought a little squeal of delight out of her, then she exclaimed, "That's my sweet boy! Make mommy happy!"
So I began trying to pin her ass to the mattress, hammering my nail into her exactly the way she'd gone after me just a little while before. And the harder and faster I pounded it into her, the more mother squealed and the more she came back to full life, Ducking and shoving right back at me, giving me the wildest ride I'd ever yet had. The way she was screwing me, she'd have made me come if I'd been dead. But I was a long, long way from being dead. My sisters had made it feel good, but the action mom was giving me made it feel fantastic.
I don't remember that any of my sisters had ever made me cut loose and yell in the middle of a screw, but mom had me yelling as I humped her while she pitched and rolled under me. When I wasn't yelling I guess I had my teeth gritted like I was in mortal agony; the muscles in my jaws ached for a day afterward. My whole body, inside and out, seemed to be tingling with sensation. It created a pressure that seemed to be straining every cell. Each cell seemed to be struggling to contain that pressure, but the way it kept swelling I knew without even thinking about it that was impossible. Yet I was powerless to stop struggling, to just accept it. That charge of sexual tension just kept billowing higher and higher, curling my toes, rolling my eyes back in their sockets.
If I'd known beyond all doubt that the approaching explosion would leave me splattered all over the ceiling, I would still have been powerless to stop. A totally involuntary drive had taken command of me. I was going to have that explosion, regardless of the consequences. Everything except that sea of sensation I was struggling in was fading away. My own voice even seemed distant and unreal when I yelled. Even more unreal was a voice that sounded faintly like mom's as it came from somewhere far, far away, faintly yelling, "Fuck mommy faster, fuck faster, fuck faster, sweet mommy's boy! You're gonna make me come again!"
Then something that felt kind of like a flash of fire went through that slippery, hot tube of mom's vagina. Maybe that was when she started coming again. Whatever, it triggered me. And talk about a blast-off!
I really wasn't too sure I wasn't about to die. It seemed like every cell in my body was going to be turned into molten liquid and be pumped out through the head of my cock into mom's belly until there wasn't anything left of me. Except maybe a few steaming drops that didn't manage to make it inside her cunt. I knew then what she'd meant when she'd said, "Fantastic!" But the idea of disappearing in a cloud of steam into mother's pussy didn't make me miss a stroke; I just kept on hammering it into her and yelling and coming and yelling some more and coming some more. Later I found out she was yelling and coming right with me; yelling just as loud and coming and still coming and coming some more just as long as I did.
Afterward, mom said she'd finally come to understand the tribal taboos all primitive people built up against incest. She figured their primary purpose was to keep parents from fucking their offspring to death, as well as giving those offspring a chance to find mates from other bloodlines to make their babies with.
Right there Tish Lees interrupted this story about the first time I'd banged my own mother. Accusingly, she pouted, "And you told me fucking me was so much greater than it'd ever been with your mother that you seriously doubted if you'd ever touch your poor old mom again."
"Scout's honor!" I assured her.
Only she wasn't assured until I proved I wasn't all talk by coupling up with her again. Once I got back into that great pussy of Tish's, we had a screwing marathon that made that first time I screwed mom look like amateurs' night.
When it finally was over, I felt as relaxed as if I didn't have a single bone left in my body. I think Tish was adrift on the same sea of bliss.
Without intending to, we both drifted off to sleep. Next thing I knew, I opened my eyes to find my father and mother standing beside my bed looking down at Tish and me. Dad looked pleased as punch and said, "Congratulations, Son! I heartily approve of your good taste in playmates."
But mother looked like she wanted to kill Tish. We got back into our clothes and I mumbled something about it being late and having to get Tish home. We got out of there.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Myra Newsome stood at her bedroom window watching the tail lights of Pike's car disappear as he drove down the winding driveway toward the street. Going to take that girl home they'd found him with. Only by monumental effort had she succeeded in maintaining the self-control that had been required to retain an outward appearance of cool aloofness. Now that the need for that tight control was gone, she suddenly found herself trembling. Furious!
Within Myra seethed a mounting anger shot thorough with aching disappointment. She felt betrayed. Sold out by the one mortal she cherished above all other mortals, her own precious son, her dear, dear Pikey.
Just the thought of that sight, Pikey and that girl cuddled in each other's arms there naked upon his bed, tore at her mother's heart like the blade of a dull knife. She somehow had just never expected that kind of thing might one night happen. Now she seethed in a blast-furnace of such jealousy as she'd never known before.
True, for a time after Rod first talked her into joining the faculty swap club, years before, there'd been occasions when she'd felt jealousy. Watching one's husband making it with some other woman, particularly when the other woman seemed better endowed in some departments and perhaps prettier, or even younger, wasn't easy to get so blase about.
But the jealousy she'd felt at those times compared to the raging within her right now about like the tiny flare of a single match in contrast to a wind-driven crown fire in a forest. How could Pikey have done a thing like this to her? Why had he done it? It wasn't like he'd been starved for sex, like the average boy his age.
Tears had welled up in her eyes after her feeling of need to maintain a front was gone. Now, the red glow of the tail lights having vanished into the night's blackness, those tears overflowed. As she stood there looking after the car, without realizing she had spoken aloud she declared, "It just had to be that girl's doings! Pikey just never-" Dr. Rod Newsome's voice interrupted, asking, "What's that, Myra?"
She glanced around, startled. She hadn't heard him come into the bedroom behind her. Then she glanced back out the window, trying to quickly wipe away all trace of her tears, determined not to let her husband know of her bitter hurt. In a tightly controlled voice she said, "I didn't hear you come in, Hon."
"Then who were you talking to?"
"Just thinking out loud."
Professor Newsome came up behind his wife and took her gently by the shoulders, bent and kissed her on the neck. Then he slipped his arms around her, cupped her ample breasts in his hands and drew her back against himself as he nuzzled her cheek. Not wanting him to guess her anguish, Myra pushed her rump back against him, the response he'd expect.
"That's my girl," Rod Newsome soothed.
"What's that mean?" Myra asked.
"It means, I'm glad and proud you're not going to be silly about this," he told her fondly, then nibbled lovingly at the top of one of her ears.
"Silly about what?" she demanded. "What on earth are you talking about?"
"Talking about the look on your face, like the world had suddenly come to an end, when we walked in and found that little naked bunny cuddled up asleep with Pike."
Thankful he wasn't able to look into her eyes, she strained to put a note of flippancy into her voice, declaring, "You must have been imagining things, sweetheart."
He gave her a little squeeze, telling her, "I don't think so." Then he admitted, "But I suppose it's possible. Maybe I've hoped you'd someday find out how I felt that time we walked in and found Ina fucking that foreign exchange student from Turkey."
Myra laughed abruptly and suddenly felt better. She rubbed her ass back and forth against Rod's front as she told him, "I'd forgotten all about that... but now that you remind me, I guess you were pretty shaken up about that."
"Not 'about that!'" he corrected. "About that creep's attitude. Ina hadn't realized he didn't have the same modern attitudes about sex that we've raised our kids to have. She was totally devastated for a few days, after that Turk started bragging around the campus that Dr. Newsome's daughter was his private whore. She'd actually fallen for the creep. That was her first really personal experience with the destructiveness of traditional sexual attitudes."
"As well as our first personal experience with the fact that such puritanical attitudes aren't the exclusive domain of Americans and Europeans and products of other predominantly Christian-Judaeo societies," Myra reminded.
Professor Newsome's cheek moved against hers as he nodded, holding her close as he murmured, "Right. Those attitudes don't actually grow out of any one system of religion, I know now. They grow out of man's primitive determination to own his woman... or his women. His historic determination to own his woman's womb like he owned his fields and to keep any other man's baby-seed from being planted in it. In the process, he couldn't be bothered about how he exploited the woman who really owned the womb he'd staked his claim on. Her feelings were unimportant. And men of all societies have demonstrated pretty much the same attitudes on that score. But we'd failed to warn Ina about that. The way that Turk sonofabitch hurt her, I could've killed him."
Now Myra nodded, observing, "Being broad-minded is a pretty big strain sometimes... almost like something unnatural."
"That's sure a fact," Newsome agreed. "I could've killed that damned Turk."
"You said that."
"Yeah."
"But now Ina's happily married and probably has completely forgotten about all that."
"You know better."
"What?"
"Don't you try to tell me any girl ever completely forgets the guy who gave her her first piece of ass."
"Exactly."
"Exactly what?"
"Ina has no such reason to remember that foreign exchange student."
"Oh?... You're positive about that?"
"Positive."
"Well... what had been going on before then that I didn't know about?"
"The children have all spied on our faculty swap club parties whenever we hosted them for years."
"The hell you say!"
"So it was perfectly natural when Ina began feeling strong sexual urges."
"What was perfectly natural?"
"For her to seduce Pikey."
"She started screwing her own brother?... Her baby brother?"
"Watch your broad-minded modern attitudes, Professor."
"You witch!" He hugged her tighter for an instant. Then a sudden thought struck him. "What about the other girls?"
"Could you expect them not to want to get in on the fun?"
"You mean that son of mine's been fucking all four of his sisters for the past several years?... How come I didn't hear anything about it until now?"
She moved her shoulders against him, shrugging. "It just didn't seem all that important."
"Until tonight."
"Not even tonight... Except I just can't understand, with all the opportunity for sexual expression Pikey's had for the past several years, why he felt a need for that... girl?"
Dr. Newsome chuckled quietly, reminding, "The human appetite for variety can't be satisfied by only whatever's available within the family, Hon.
You know that from personal experience. And I don't remember you making any big deal of it several years ago when Ina started shacking with Chuck Martin."
"But Chuck's a fellow educator. A brilliant one, at that. Not just someone Ina brought in off the street."
"Remember what you were just telling me," he chided. "Watch your broad-minded modern attitudes. That includes not being a snob, remember."
Ignoring him, she added, "Besides, he and Ina are married, now."
"Yeah, and wanting to become members of our faculty swap club," Newsome said in a voice suddenly gone flat. "Do you really think we'll ever manage to be that broad-minded?"
"What do you mean?" she asked in a tone of innocence.
"I mean... exactly how do you think you'd feel about knowing I was fucking one of our own daughters?... That's what I mean!"
"Why... I hadn't thought about it."
"I suppose you've been too busy drooling over the prospect of getting a chance to fuck Ina's handsome, brainy, young... especially handsome and young... Dr. Martin?"
She jabbed an elbow back into his ribs, chiding, "What a crude thing to say."
"Don't try giving me that!"
"So you were drooling over the prospect of Pike's marrying that girl some day, or someone like her, and you getting a chance to screw her, were you, you old stud horse?"
"It isn't Pike and his girl who've asked to become members of our swap club," he reminded. "And there's no reason to think they ever will. Let's just drop the subject and get to bed. I have an early class tomorrow."
"Then you won't mind if I... don't go to bed with you?... I want to stay up a little while."
Dr. Newsome's voice raised in an 'a cappella' imitation of a hillbilly singer wailing, "Keep a light in your window tonight, mother--" Myra Newsome cut him off sharply, snapping, "Screw you through the ears! It isn't funny!"
Now laughing, Newsome exclaimed, "No, it's more than just funny! It's hilarious!" He moved away from her, starting to get undressed as he spoke. She turned, glaring after him. She felt somewhat amazed herself at finding herself so filled with this strangely intense anger. She clenched her teeth to hold back the torrent of cutting words that angry part within her wanted to hurl at him. Instead she just stood listening, fuming in silence, as her chuckling husband added, "I sure never expected to see you come on with the possessive, jealous mother bit like this, Sweet. You'd better take yourself in hand; face up to the fact that Pike's a big boy, now. Nearly a man."
"If you only knew how much of a man," she seethed silently, "you might not be so damned smug and superior. You might understand why I can't bear to see him waste himself on some little high school-" The exactly appropriate descriptive eluded her. Thoroughly frustrated, she abruptly started to the hallway door. As she went, she said aloud, "I'll go down to the library. You'll never get to sleep if I stay here and keep you laughing."
CHAPTER NINE
While I paced the floor of our library, waiting for my dear son to get back from taking that girl home, I found my mind filled with angry thoughts. For some strange reason I found myself feeling more anger toward Rod than I did toward that girl.
I felt he'd let me down by failing to be his usual understanding self about my feelings. I deeply resented his unmistakable insinuation that I was simply indulging in anything as common and disgusting as "Momism" or "Smotherlove". Rod usually was so tenderly loving in his understanding of me that this complete lapse gave me the ugly feeling of having been betrayed.
Then I found myself thinking, "If he had to betray me, thank heaven he waited until now instead of selecting the time most men would have. His betrayal then would have destroyed me!"
That made me forget my angry feelings and led me back in memory to that other time I'd felt so vulnerable. Until I met Rod, I had never been able to acquire the comfortable feeling of belonging, you know, in the Radcliffe crowd.
Of course, I didn't. My father's retired now, but then he was still very active as a Baptist minister. A real sin-chaser. A genuine, dyed-in-the-wool hell's-fire-and-brimstone type who believed no compromise with sin, however slight, could be tolerated. The prophet Isaiah was his hero. He prided himself on having been given Isaiah's gift of being able "to get the fodder down where the jackasses can get at it!" When confronted by hypocrisy, he was ruthless and unrelenting. The average church deacon-to say nothing of ordinary church members-being what he is, our family did a lot of moving from one community to another while I was growing up. My father's exceptional eloquence was all that saved us from being relegated to tiny country congregations deep in the Southern or Western backwoods. His gift of oratory did save us from that.
But we never would have had the money my Radcliffe years required if father had failed to discover evangelism. He proved to be a natural for that calling. Church people seem to find a sadistic or masochistic delight in being subjected to a few weeks of father's kind of preaching; having to endure it as a steady diet was what they found unendurable.
Of course father had his head set on my being sent to what he called "a good bible college", but mother stood up to him on that issue. One of the few times I know of when she was so daring. Years of never having enough, as a local pastor's wife, followed by a few years of plenty beyond her fondest dreams as the wife of a successful traveling evangelist had set mother's head on giving me every opportunity possible to "marry up". That's what Radcliffe epitomized.
So, knowing what mother'd gone through to get me there, I simply grinned and bore it when I discovered what a fish out of water I was among the sophisticated Radcliffe types. They, in turn, tolerated me as a sure-fire source of amusement to them; in those days I shocked very easily. To some, in addition, I represented a sort of private-tutor-in-residence; the grades I made were no source of amusement to any of them. But consistently topping the honor roll never was enough to break down the wall between me and the rest of them and transform me from an "outsider" into one of those who belonged. It took the big senior Harvard man, Rod Newsome, to do that for me.
I didn't know him from Adam the day he appeared at the reserve desk over which I presided in our library. All I knew was that he was obviously from the neighboring campus. To me, that fact alone meant he had no business in our library.
"You have a spare copy of-" I cut him off right there with a withering, "I've heard a rumor Harvard has its own library!"
"For your information, 'Cliffie, Harvard is allowed-" he tried again.
Again I cut him short with, "Legality isn't the subject, Preppie!"
"What's the subject?" he demanded.
"Ethics, Preppie! Do you need the word defined?"
"Define it," he nodded.
"You Harvard guys must have four to five million books. We have a lousy few thousand. But you want one of ours." Maybe that was some of my father's intolerance of injustice coming through. Whatever, I'd hardly recommend it as a sure-fire way to bring one's self to the favorable attention of a big-man-about-the-campus. But in Rod's case, it seemed to fascinate him. He tried to make a date with me for that evening; I figured it was just a dirty bribe in his effort to get that book he wanted: I turned him down.
But Rod doesn't discourage easily. Fortunately he persisted. Fortunately for me, that is.
A whole new life began after Rod called for me the evening of our first date. Girls who hadn't had the time of day for me throughout the preceding three years suddenly became my bosom buddies. Rod not only came from one of the fabled "best families", but was an all-around athlete, a star performer at hockey, football, basketball, baseball, track, and rowing. As if that wasn't enough, he was top man of his class scholastically. I was the envy of our campus.
When I found out who he really was, I nearly fainted, but I was careful to do it in private. I was bright enough, however inexperienced, to realize that my apparent total indifference to his conquests must have been what charmed him. So I kept him at arm's length for three wonderful months, despite his best efforts to get through my guard. He finally began really sounding like he sincerely meant it when he told me how greatly he loved me.
Of course I wasn't long about beginning to make my plans for marrying him, once I felt confident I had him firmly hooked. And despite the advice of my new-found, oh-so-experienced, and blase friends, I firmly intended to walk to that wedding altar a virgin.
Yes, I felt supremely confident by then, completely in command. One of the best signs was the way Rod kept pestering me to let him set a date when he could take me to meet his parents. I was dying to meet them, of course, but I kept putting him off with flip remarks like, "Why take up their time before we even know whether or not we're serious about each other?" That brought a protest from Rod, without fail, that there were no doubts about that score on his part. Finally he even bought a huge but exquisitely beautiful diamond solitaire, offering it as a token of his sincerity together with a request that I meet his parents and allow him to announce our engagement to them at the same time.
I'd never done anything in my life harder for me than asking Rod just to keep that ring for awhile, or to exchange it for something less expensive. I explained coolly that he didn't have to try to bribe me into saying, "Yes"... that even if he didn't have a cent, was unable to buy any kind of ring at all, the girl who got him would be supremely lucky so long as she was the right girl for him. I told him I just wanted to try to make certain I was that right girl before I let either of us make any firm commitments. Rod wanted to know what it was going to take to convince me? I couldn't spell that out for him, but I did manage to hold firm in my refusal to accept that beautiful ring then and there.
In an effort to blunt the impact of my refusal a little, I accepted Rod's proposal that I drive his car up to Ithaca, New York, for him and sit in the Harvard rooting section during the big hockey game with Cornell. Then after the game we'd take Saturday and Sunday to work in some skiing on the drive back together.
So I got to see Rod lead his team to a resounding victory over Cornell, which cinched the Ivy League title for them. In addition, it climaxed an incredible string of hockey victories for Rod-personally, not just as team captain; since his first prep school hockey game, seven years earlier, Rod had never played a losing game of hockey during his entire scholastic career. This final victory over Cornell assured him of becoming a minor legend, if that hadn't already been assured.
The celebration after the game got rather wild. Rod insisted upon maintaining his training rules, refusing the champagne being pressed upon him from all sides. But he insisted that I drink the many toasts in his stead, even though he knew I had maintained my Baptist inexperience as a drinker almost unblemished to that point.
Once he finally persuaded me to try the champagne, however, it went down so easily and agreeably that I found my father's teaching about how such a pleasant drink could become a treacherous source of danger impossible to believe any longer. I soon was drinking it as unfearingly as I would cold water. I proved to have an exceptionally large natural capacity, for I still was experiencing no unusual feelings when other celebrators began passing out in increasing numbers.
In the wee hours of Saturday morning, when so few were still in shape to continue celebrating that our victory party had run out of steam, Rod and I bid the other survivors farewell and started for the resort where we were to ski later that day. That I remember with crystal clarity.
But the warmth of the car, or something, created a reaction which wiped my mind blank soon after that. When I regained consciousness, I was in a warm bed. It was so dark I was unable to identify my location, but that created no immediate concern.
Then I discovered I was completely naked; that did surprise me a little because I never in my life had slept without some kind of sleeping garment on. That prompted an effort to further investigate my immediate surroundings. I turned toward the center of the bed. My naked thigh abruptly encountered what felt alarmingly like another equally naked thigh, except that it seemed much larger and more muscular than mine. I bit back a yelp of alarm, whirled back toward the edge of the bed and groped frantically for a light. My hand found a lamp on a nightstand and turned it on.
I turned back and was amazed to find Rod looking up at me, a rather silly, big, sleepy-eyed smile on his face. He greeted me, "So you've finally come back to the land of the sober! Welcome back!"
"Just what's that supposed to mean?" I demanded.
"Merely that you've been dead to the world for at least eighteen hours," he told me. "I couldn't wake you up at the ski lodge when we got there Saturday morning, so-" I interrupted him with a startled cry of, "Saturday morning? What time is it now?" I'd moved over as far away from him as I could get without falling off the edge of the bed.
Rod said, "Probably Sunday morning by now."
"Where are we?"
"A motel on the outskirts of Pittsfield, Mass.," he told me. "I finally had to have some sleep."
"I suppose you couldn't have slept without stripping me naked, first?" I suggested icily.
That brought a rather boyish, sheepish expression to Rod's face. He looked away and seemed to grope for words. I said sharply, "I guess this pretty clearly settles my question about whether I'm the right girl for you or not" That brought his eyes back to me with a sudden look of eagerness. He said, "Good! We can spend Sunday with my folks."
CHAPTER TEN
For a moment I stared at Rod in pretended unbelief. Finally I said, "Do you think I could look your mother in the eye after... this? You'd never have done a thing like this to the girl you felt sure was Miss Right-for-you."
"That's the only reason I did do a thing like this," Rod protested. "I figured if I could get you pregnant, maybe then you'd stop stalling and marry me."
"That's a switch!" I snapped. "According to all the stories I've heard, after you get the girl pregnant, you're supposed to cut out, give her no chance to hook you into marriage."
As if he hadn't heard me, Rod added, "But I couldn't go through with it."
"With marrying me?"
"With raping you. That's what it would've been."
"You don't have to tell me!"
"Well, I couldn't do it, anyhow. I love you too much to do anything you wouldn't want me to." Rod told me with downcast eyes. Suddenly he looked to me like a little boy confessing his wrongdoing and very near tears of remorse about it. Suddenly my anger was all gone and in its place I seemed filled with an overwhelming urge to gather him into my arms and comfort him.
Quicker than it takes to tell about it, I moved across the space that had separated us to put my arms around him and kiss him. His arms wrapped around me, so strong and masculine and possessive. Suddenly my whole body seemed to be flaming with desire for union with his body. I found myself loving Rod as I never had loved him before because he'd waited, because now we were going to be able to share our very first coupling as a mutual experience of supreme bliss we both would always remember. A time of shared ecstasy we'd neither one ever forget. A time we both have always looked back on as our actual wedding and have always remembered with greater fondness than we do the public ceremony a few weeks later.
Perhaps it was that first night together in that Pittsfield motel that also imprinted both of us with a steadfast determination to always share all sexual experience. In the years that followed our marriage that night, there was never an exception.
After Ina was born, there were nights when I just couldn't get the child to stop fussing and go to sleep. We got the doctor out of his bed half a dozen nights to come see if he could find what was troubling her. He admitted later he came the first couple of times expecting to find nothing more startling than a case of colic, but each time he failed to find any evidence of even that common complaint. He finally told us Ina must just be a natural-born night owl and fussed because after she awakened at night she got bored with the lack of activity around her.
About that time Rod came home suggesting we try a remedy for infant restlessness used by primitive tribes in many far-scattered parts of the earth, according to what a young professor of anthropology had told him. It consisted of licking the baby's genitals. I was shocked spitless; even outraged, at first. I asked Rod if he'd like creating a nymphomaniac out of our defenseless little daughter?
But after Ina kept me up for several hours in the middle of the night, the next time, I was ready to let Rod experiment. I intended to have no part of it, however.
That's when Rod reminded me neither of us had had a sexual experience that went unshared with the other since that night in Pittsfield. So I stayed to just watch while Rod tried out the strange, heathen method of soothing a restless child.
But the transformation from fussing discontent to cooing delight Rod's caressing tongue worked within seconds on little Ina intrigued me; within moments I couldn't wait to get into the act. After that experience I found it much easier to question other points about the sexual code that had been brainwashed into me by my parents and society in general.
That's not to say I wasn't shocked again, however, a few years later when Rod first told me about the mate exchange parties other faculty members frequented. By then Rod had completed all his graduate work, been awarded higher degrees up to and including his Ph.D., and a place on the Harvard faculty. During that same period, I'd been awarded four more babies, including one set of twins; accomplishments I felt should have won me an advanced degree in motherhood. But Rod disagreed; he teased me that all I deserved was some kind of championship for sexual recklessness.
But my sexual recklessness, if that's what it had been, had been focused exclusively upon Rod and him alone. Of course the wild, breathless excitement which characterized our sex life together during the first year after it began that night in Pittsfield had long since mellowed into a kind of comfortable familiarity of constant companionship. I'd never wasted any time mourning the loss of that element of feverish excitement, which I never expected to experience again. Of the two, I preferred the dependability of comfortable familiarity. I accepted the premise that in this life you always have to sacrifice one thing in order to get another.
So I resisted desperately for awhile after Rod first suggested we might find it fun to investigate mate exchange with two other young faculty couples; I felt my cherished relationship of comfortable familiarity would be jeopardized and probably destroyed. When I finally yielded, it was not because Rod's arguments had persuaded me my fears were groundless; I felt heartsick with dread as we went to join those other couples the first time, but I loved Rod too much to deny him anything he seemed so eager to investigate.
Before that night was over, I was amazed to find all the wild, burning excitement that sex once had filled me with was back again, yet my relationship with Rod seemed even closer and more completely comfortable than it had ever been because we had shared our new adventure. It went against everything I'd been taught, but the argument of one's own personal experience, one's own feelings, is the most convincing of all. In the face of that, the old sexual taboos lost their grip on me. The sense of freedom was terrific, the feeling of there being no need for secrets between Rod and me, even about the most intimate things we experienced with others, was out of this world.
That's the way it was between us for years. As our kids grew older, Rod and I stopped licking their genitals as we'd done to soothe them when they were babies; we'd never either of us invited one of the children to reciprocate such favors, incidentally. But the children had evidently gotten fond of the experience because even after Rod and I no longer gave them such attention, they regularly did the favor for each other. Unlike other children, none of ours ever was reluctant about bathing because after a bath they regularly had a session of sex play.
Then one day our sweet little son came into my bathroom as I was crawling out of the tub. He knew I wasn't feeling quite up to par and gave me an innocent kiss of affection which he placed squarely upon one of my nipples. The effect that had on me was something weird, like a mind-blower. I wound up stretched across my bed with little Pikey giving me a tongue job that put into the amateur ranks the best performance any of the adults of either sex in our swap group had ever given me. The sensation my little son gave me that day was so great I really did almost blow my mind.
After one experience like that, there was no way I'd have considered stopping it; never doing it again seemed as far out of the question as never again taking another breath. But I wasn't able to bring myself to tell Rod about it. I felt unsure whether or not even he could manage to be quite broad-minded enough to approve my having such a relationship with our own son. Incest still had a forbidding sound in my ears; maybe that's what made that taste of it so intriguing.
I tried hard not to let my mother-son relationship with Pikey change in any other respect. That did require constant conscious effort; I steadfastly resisted an aching desire to put my hands on that boy and caress him whenever he was within reach. But I realized that if I indulged myself, other knowing adults would sooner or later be certain to notice and perhaps even to put two and two together. Also, I felt I had to hold my new feelings for Pikey in check, not let myself smother-love him, for his own sake. By comparison with him, however, my Ph.D. lovers at our faculty swap parties became almost too boring to endure. Any wild excitement any of them ever had been able to bring alive within me had long since become a thing of the past. Ordinary switching husbands with other faculty wives was like nothing as a source of sexual kicks, compared to incest. Sometimes I ached to share my secret with Rod, but I didn't dare.
Then just a few days after Pikey's thirteenth birthday, I walked in on him and Ina while he had Ina in the midst of what obviously was a fantastic orgasm. I stood there watching him fuck her. Suddenly I was burning up with an overwhelming desire to be in Ina's place. I forgot all about discretion.
Almost before Ina had time to come back to earth from her trip into space, I had stripped off my clothes and mounted Pikey in her place. Of all the sexual experiences I'd had before that, none had come even close to filling me with such a high-tension charge of excitement; I was trembling almost uncontrollably with it. At the same time I felt as if I was very near to burning up with anticipation. It was simply fantastic! Nothing, but nothing I'd ever previously experienced came even close to it.
I'd heard other women at our swap parties talk about having been screwed unconscious, but I'd never come anywhere close to having such an experience before that. Pikey made a believer out of me; he kept me in sexual orbit, one long, long orgasm following so closely after another they almost ran into just a single, continuous, unending orgasm. Before it was finally over I simply faded away into blissful unconsciousness, very nearly fucked to death.
When" I came back to consciousness, Ina and the other three girls were all gathered around the bed looking scared to death. I reassured them, then realized from the look of Pikey's rigid erection that despite the length of the wild trip he'd just given me, he still hadn't come. Somehow I felt the whole beautiful experience wouldn't be complete for me until I knew the delightful feeling of him pumping his hot young juices into my thirsty belly. When I insisted, he climbed back between my legs. The fucking I'd just had turned out to be only a prelude to the fucking Pikey gave me. If any man ever actually made sparks fly out of a woman's ass, he made them fly out of mine that time.
When I'd regained consciousness, I'd have sworn it would be an absolute impossibility for me to build enough sexual tension to explode into another orgasm for at least a week. All I hoped to do when Pikey started riding me was to make it feel so good to him that it would be impossible for him not to shoot his hot wad of luscious love juice all over my womb and other sensitive inner surfaces. But I was amazed, as he kept fucking me harder and faster, to feel a charge of revived sexual pressure building within me unlike any I'd ever experienced before.
Then I seemed to literally explode in the most fantastic orgasm yet. Within an instant of its beginning I was teetering again on the brink of blacking out, unable to endure the tidal wave of such intense sensation. But as I felt myself slipping, sinking into the blackness of that raging sea of sensation, I enjoyed the supreme sensation of feeling Pikey finally explode deep within me. No woman can imagine the ultimate delight sex is capable of bringing her until she's experienced the indescribable sensation that is hers when she first feels her own son flooding her sensitive inner surfaces with his hot love honey. The tag ends of consciousness slipped away, despite my desperate clutching at them; I wanted to prolong my enjoyment of that supreme sensation just as long as possible.
When I revived, the four girls were clustered around me, sitting on the edge of the bed. Ina greeted me with, "Didn't I tell you Pikey was the greatest, Mama?"
I looked at her and nodded weakly, then moved my eyes from her to each of the others. Belatedly I realized what I had done; the girls had watched my whole incestuous experience with Pikey, so it was no secret any longer.
Then I felt sudden reassurance, realizing from the looks on their faces that none of them felt that anything out of the ordinary had just happened. I realized with relief that the sexual relationship each of them had with their younger brother was so long established that they took my having the same kind of relationship with him as perfectly normal and natural. I only wished Rod had been conditioned to accept such enlightened views so easily.
That's when I began laying my plans to get him sexually involved with our daughters, so he'd have to accept my relationship with Pikey when he finally found out. It had to be done.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
We professionals in higher education have a tradition of taking pride in our leadership of general society in the acceptance of new ideas. We like to think of ourselves as pioneers on the intellectual frontiers. Hopefully we can even be rather swashbuckling, at times, as we dare to challenge traditional concepts and superstitions of the masses.
That was the adventuring spirit I felt when I first suggested to Myra, years ago, that we accept an invitation from a small group of younger, more daring faculty members to join them and their wives in exploring the forbidden fruits of mate exchange, known in plebeian street language by the rather profane term, wife swapping. That term in itself reflects the fundamental fallacy in the traditional concept of the husband-wife relationship. That concept views a wife as an item of her husband's personal property, subject like other personal property to being traded or swapped. Primitive people around the world have, since earliest recorded history, regarded adultery not as a spiritual sin but as a crime against the husband's property rights in his wife. Like any true intellectual, I encountered no problems with myself in renouncing such a basically immoral concept, thereby recognizing my wife's right to the same freedom of sexual expression I desired for myself.
In raising our children, too, we tried to instill in each of them the same feeling of sexual freedom we'd tried to claim for ourselves. The plebeian taboos were the only ideas regarded as taboo in our home. We tried to create a family atmosphere in which no member would ever feel any need to keep any thought or desire or action secret or hidden.
So when we happened upon our eldest daughter, Ina, the first time while she was in the midst of intercourse with a boyfriend, we took pains to act as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Certainly we never referred to the incident later as one of our having "caught" her, as I know most parents would.
Later when Ina came to us with Chuck Martin, an unusually bright graduate student, announcing their intention of setting up housekeeping, we were delighted with her good taste. Later, after Chuck earned his higher degrees and joined our faculty, when they decided to formalize their relationship by going through the public ceremony of marriage, we were even more delighted.
Then a few days later came the shocker for me; Chuck and Ina asked Myra and me to propose them for membership in our faculty mate exchange group, which would mean that sooner or later my own daughter and I would be paired. I guess the thing that really shook me was that when I pointed out that consequence of their membership in our group as an inevitable, Ina and Chuck both merely shrugged. But Myra's reaction, or to be more exact her total lack of reaction, was what really made me wonder about myself. About how far I'd fallen behind the vanguard in the army of the broad-minded? In the past. I had always been the one who took the lead in matters of accepting new ideas; my Myra has sometimes followed very reluctantly and only because she loved me.
For just an instant I saw, in my mind's eye, the sweet, inexperienced, trusting young girl I'd seduced in a Pittsfield, Mass., motel one wintry night which now seemed like something out of another lifetime. I knew beyond all doubt what her reaction to a prospect of incest, such as had just been proposed to us by our own daughter and her husband, would have been.
Then in another flash I saw Myra some years later in another scene, saw her unbelieving shock when I first proposed that she and I accept the invitation to explore the realities of mate exchange with fellow intellectuals. I could have easily anticipated the reaction of the woman she was then to this present proposal.
But it was obvious that Myra had traveled a long way in her adventures into the realms of broad-mindedness; perhaps even farther than I had. Just that idea alone shocked me. I simply couldn't believe it, yet she just sat there perfectly cool, smiling at me quietly as if confident I would respond acceptably for both of us.
I felt far from being that confident in myself, just then. For the first time during our marriage, I felt real need of some help from her in sorting out my thoughts about a new idea. But she just sat there as unruffled as if the kids had just proposed that we join them for a picnic or a weekend outing, waiting for me to take the lead for the two of us in responding. And I couldn't do it.
Finally I was forced to ask, "What do you think about this, Myra?"
And I'll be damned if she didn't come right back without an instant's hesitation, declaring, "Why I think our group's never had a nicer or more interesting young couple proposed for membership. What else could you possibly expect me to think?"
"Thanks, mom," Ina chuckled.
Chuck chimed in with, "You're the kind of mother-in-law most guys never heard of. You're one of the big reasons I realized I just had to marry this girl." He gave Ina a hug and the two of them and Myra laughed.
Then Myra was saying, "I have to be a little unusual as a mother-in-law in order to be worthy of such a terrific son-in-law."
The three of them laughed again. I broke in on that, exclaiming with mock disgust, "God, what a mutual admiration society this is turning into!... Sickening!"
Instantly Ina corrected with a teasing smile, "Incestuous is the word you're really hung up on, Daddy, darling. Are they really synonymous to you... sickening and incestuous?"
That forced the whole responsibility for making an issue of the matter squarely and wholly onto my shoulders. Rather angrily I turned on Myra, demanding, "Can you really be as totally indifferent as you appear to this question I've been forced to raise? Doesn't anything about such a situation strike you as possibly being even slightly indecent?"
"Indecent?" Myra asked in a tone of surprise, her brows raising. Then she added, "By traditional standards, of course it's indecent. Of course. But I seem to remember your telling me that to qualify as a true intellectual, one had to junk traditional standards. That true standards of decency or indecency in sexual matters should always be judged by whatever is the mutual desire of consenting adults."
She had me hoisted with my own petard.
"You do accept me as an adult, don't you, Daddy?" Ina demanded.
"But there's blood relationship involv--" Myra interrupted me, pointing out, "Which is immaterial in a situation where conception is impossible."
Rather lamely I questioned, "But is the pill that foolproof? Is conception really impossible?"
Rather flippantly, Myra came right back with, "If there's anyone going to worry about that, it seems to me it ought to be Chuck, not you. He's her husband."
"But I'm her father," I shot back rather testily. "Even if Chuck didn't give a damn, I still wouldn't want to subject Ina to the risk of having a child that might be mentally or physically handicapped because it was an inbred I'd fathered by her. One way one must prove one's adulthood when embracing the philosophy of 'consenting adults' is by being careful to always look beyond the present moment, always make certain there's no possible way a third party may ever become involved as a result of what they do, as a result of what they are consenting to."
"But who in this world measures their every act by that kind of standard?" Chuck protested. "That would take in far more than sex acts. That would take in drugs-."
"Exactly!" I cut in emphatically. "And to the extent that an individual fails to measure every contemplated act by such a standard, to that extent they demonstrate their lack of real adulthood, which actually is defined by attitudes, not by age. It's defined by one's degree of acceptance of responsibility; for others, not just for one's self. Particularly their responsibility to possible children in their future."
Ina spoke up quietly, telling me, "Chuck and I both believe that love is beautiful but overpopulation isn't. And the only way to solve the problem of overpopulation is for a lot of couples our age to make up their minds that they can enjoy a full life together without having children. So I'll have myself sterilized, if that'll put your mind at ease, Daddy?"
"Lord no!" I exclaimed. "You might change your minds about wanting children. Never do anything that is irreversible unless it's absolutely forced upon you. Otherwise it's exactly like committing suicide. Sterilization may be rated as involving just a little bit of suicide; only a little bit of your potential for living is involved. But that little bit is permanently destroyed, just as the entire potential is destroyed by total suicide. And one has no more to recommend it than the other, so far as I'm concerned."
Chuck spoke up, asking, "What about early abortion, if the pill should fail? Any objections to that?"
I glanced at Myra, but she just looked back at me with a pleasant expression of serenity which was no help at all in sorting out my thoughts about the questions that had been raised. Finally I shrugged, saying, "I guess not."
"Then it's settled?" Ina asked eagerly. "You and mom will sponsor us for membership?"
When I still hesitated, Chuck suggested, "Maybe you think this hangup about balling your own daughter might embarrass you in front of your friends?" I failed to catch his thought. "Embarrass me?"
Chuck nodded. "Like produce temporary impotency."
I chuckled for the first time since this whole question had been brought up. I told him, "That was the very least of my worries. That, in fact, would solve the problem I was really worried about."
"Why not do like the Navy does with a new ship?" Chuck proposed. "Try the whole relationship out on a sort of private shakedown cruise no one outside the family will know about?"
"That's the most sensible suggestion anyone's made recently," Myra declared instantly.
I stared at her in surprise. Finally I said, "You seem like a total stranger to me today, woman. You must be so filled with lust for Chuck's fresh, young body that you just aren't reacting to things like you usually would."
Myra chuckled, "Are you saying you think I've turned into a dirty, lecherous old lady? Shame on you! The fact is, I'm merely ready to do some of the pioneering you're so fond of talking about. Chuck and I will pioneer a whole new mother-in-law son-in-law relationship which may bring an end to conflict in another important area of human society."
Chuck called, "Hear, hear!" and the three of them laughed light-heartedly.
But Ina sobered abruptly, asking, "Surely it isn't just that you find me physically repulsive as a female, is it Daddy? If it's something like that, just tell us-"
"Of course I don't find you repulsive!" I cut in on her. "In fact, next to your mother, I think you're about the most attractive woman I've ever seen."
"Then why don't we do like Chuck suggested?" Ina proposed instantly. "You come on over to our apartment with me and Chuck'll stay here with mom, and... we'll all get busy with this research project."
"Second the motion!" Chuck and Myra said in unison.
CHAPTER TWELVE
They say a stiff cock has no conscience, but there also are times when the brainwashed mental reflexes that most of us mistake for our conscience make an erection a near impossibility. I'd never encountered such a situation until that first night I spent at Ina's apartment with her. Experiences like that make it obvious that despite the physical resemblances a man has to other animals, man is more than mere animal because no mere animal ever is bothered by such problems as I encountered. To a mere animal a female in heat is a female he is ready to service.
For years I'd labored under the delusion that I was one of the truly liberated intellectuals, completely freed of the traditional superstitions of society and religion. At our faculty mate exchange parties I'd become just as outstanding in my accomplishments as a sexual athlete as I'd once been in my performances on playing field or rink. I thought I'd succeeded completely in ridding myself self of all artificial inhibitions upon my sexual nature, had succeeded in recreating within me the simple, uncomplicated, purely animal sexual drive I believed Nature had intended me to have.
But my responses after the door of Ina's apartment closed behind us made it obvious I'd overestimated my state of development. The most obvious evidence of that fact was my nervous state; I was as ill-at-ease as a green country kid on his first date with a girl. My palms were clammy and I was sweating for no external reason, the air temperature in the apartment being a shade under sixty-eight degrees.
In startling contrast-startling to me, at least -Ina seemed perfectly cool and collected and obviously enjoying herself as she began making me comfortable. She sat me down in Chuck's easy chair and made me lean back and try to relax while she removed my shoes and tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of my shirt. Then she turned on some soft, soothing music and went to mix a drink for me.
I gulped that first drink like a New York junior advertising executive trying to unwind right after pitching for a big contract with an important new client. I know that such a thirst for booze is proof positive of the existence of a pronounced neurosis; so the perfect adjustment I thought I'd made in all areas of my makeup had been a vain delusion. Who's perfect? One thing that did strike me as encouraging-I definitely was learning new things about myself. For example, even a dedicated intellectual can kid himself. I even very slightly regretted my fury at William Buckley's contention that of mankind as a whole, intellectuals are most susceptible to the failing of kidding themselves. Now I had discovered that some degree of such susceptibility did exist within me.
Ina brought a refill almost immediately and I was able to resist the impulse to gulp it too. While I held myself down to frequent sips at it, she got a whole shaker full of refills mixed. She put the shaker within easy reach and suggested I help myself whenever I needed more; she was going to change into something more comfortable. I knew, of course, what that meant. I wondered where in hell that little girl of mine had learned to become such a seductress? But I had to forget that "little girl of mine" business! I gulped the rest of my second drink, then poured myself a brimming refill. I had to thin out those residual inhibitions until I was able to get completely past them and see only the lusciously beautiful and desirable young woman who was obviously wanting me to make love to her. When I was able to see her and her alone, then surely the male animal part of me would be able to begin responding the way it ought to.
Right then what I needed was more booze to do that thinning out job on those inhibitions. Good old booze! There are situations in which there simply is no satisfactory substitute. Women have known that for centuries. What did Lot's daughters do when they wanted the inhibited old fud to help them make babies, a woman's only hope of Social Security in those times? They got Lot loaded, that's what! And the multiplied descendants of the hearty bastards who resulted from those two nights of screwing those girls gave old Lot, today account for many thousands of the Arab bastards giving their Jewish cousins hell for trying to recover their Promised Land.
What a hell of a disquieting thought that was! I tried to jerk my mind away from it before it destroyed the good the booze had done for me. Bastards like those the world didn't need more of. I couldn't allow myself to think about it or even the booze would never be able to dissolve my hang-up.
I gulped down my third drink, poured another refill, then sat back in Chuck's easy chair and closed my eyes. I could feel the warm glow of the alcohol beginning to spread from my belly out through the rest of my body, releasing tension, quieting nervousness. The music seemed to be helping. The chair seemed to become a boat drifting lazily upon the quiet waters of a peaceful river of soothing sound. I almost forgot to keep sipping at my drink.
When my glass was finally empty again, I opened my eyes reluctantly, feeling thoroughly relaxed and at ease; I was surprised to find myself in almost total darkness. Just then from somewhere so near my left ear I could feel her soft breath upon it, I heard Ina whisper, "Before I fill your glass again, why don't we get you into something more comfortable too, Darling?"
The empty glass was taken from my hand. Fingers suddenly were unfastening my pants. Then the trousers were being tugged gently downward, being pulled off my hips and rear and on down off my legs.
The darkness was so complete that all I could see of her was an indistinct form when she was in motion. I could smell her perfume and hear the rustle of something flimsy she had on. In the back of my mind I still knew who she really was, but now it seemed somehow unreal and unimportant; or perhaps it was even becoming a source of heightened excitement, because I realized I was definitely beginning to feel excited. The whole scene had suddenly become as erotic as all hell!
She had a little trouble, in fact, getting my shorts down off my hips because my penis had raised up and snagged the material temporarily. But she got the shorts unsnagged and off.
Then she was down in front of me between my legs, obviously on her knees in front of the chair, her lips beginning to kiss their way upward from my left knee toward my upper thigh. An instant later she was licking and sucking gently at my balls, tying the muscles of my belly into knots. Then she was kissing and licking and sucking at the head of my cock, tying the knots in my belly into double knots. I heard someone groan, then realized the sound was tearing its way through my taut lips. That girl's feverish mouth was giving me almost more sensation than I could handle. I wondered where in hell she'd ever learned to perform fellatio like that?
I didn't waste time wondering about it long right then, however; I had to get all the mileage possible out of that hard, now that I finally had it. But I wasn't going to keep it long unless I got my tingling penis away from that delicious mouth.
I'd never done anything in my life that required more will power, but I forced myself up off that chair. I groped for her in the darkness, gripped her desperately when my hands found her shoulders, and forced her back away from my burning penis.
Breathlessly I said, "Let's stretch out on the rug together and try something that'll produce some mutual pleasure."
In the process, I managed to free myself of my shirt, although I did tear off a button or two in my haste. Then that luscious female body was stretched beside mine upon the floor, my arms around her pressing her close.
And she pressed back invitingly. She raised her upper leg, as we lay there front to front on our sides, and swung it across my upper hip so she could press her sweet pussy in closer. I seemed able to feel heat radiating from it against my eager penis. Then she was rubbing it against my penis; I could distinctly feel the feverish moistness of her outer lips and knew the heat I'd felt had been no figment of my imagination. My whole body was trembling with excitement and anticipation.
I felt the softness of a breast pressing against my cheek; a breast that felt as ripe and full and luscious as one of Myra's. I found it with my free hand and cupped it so my burning lips could find the nipple. It came into my mouth like a rigid little nut ripe with excitement. It tasted so exactly like one of Myra's it could have fooled me if I hadn't known there was no possible way it could have been one of Myra's. The thought flashed through right about then that Myra was probably too busy humping young son-in-law Chuck to have even one free nipple for me to suck on.
I was gratified to hear a mewing moan come out of the soft, sweet, young female body pressed against mine there in the total darkness as I began sucking and licking that nipple. Then she was moving and suddenly a hand closed around my achingly hard penis; she started rubbing it up and down through the slippery hotness of her sweet vulva! I gulped at her breast like I was going to swallow it whole! Talk about a flood of sensation! I wasn't even in her yet, but already I felt like I was very near to blowing my mind.
I turned loose of her breast for an instant to put both arms around her, then brought her up astride me as I rolled over flat on my back. Then I had both hands free, found both luscious breasts with them, pressed them together and sucked both hard nipples into my mouth together. That brought a long, trembling moan out of her.
Then she was guiding me into her tunnel of love, .into her magic hallway of delights, into her throne room of supreme pleasure. She bathed me with the perfumed fragrance of her slippery and honey-like love juices as I was welcomed into her. Talk about a bolt of electric excitement! It flashed through every atom of my being, supercharging every cell. Screwing the wives of my fellow professors had been like jacking off in the shower by comparison. I knew my mind couldn't possibly withstand this kind of voltage; it just had to blow.
Then it flashed through me that if my damned mind let me down like that, I'd miss out on everything else that might happen. I'd get cheated out of God only knew what supreme sensations! Robbed! Short-changed! My mind just couldn't trip-out on me right then. Without consciousness, there's no sensation, exactly like without ears to hear it there's no such thing as sound. It's a non-reality. And this charge of sensation was too damned terrific to allow to go to waste in the dead-end of nonreality.
I hung on desperately to the boundaries of my consciousness, determined to gorge myself on this feast of sensation, determined not to miss out on the tiniest morsel of it. Every time the head of my swollen penis stroked outward, then was driven back into the steaming, honeyed tunnel of her vaginal sheath, new star-clusters of sensation exploded.
I felt my big explosion nearing. I was trying to hold it off as long as possible, trying to stretch this summit experience to its farthest limit. It seemed impossible that I could possibly have another chance to enjoy being tossed and swirled through such a riptide of sensation. I wanted to ride it as far and as long as I could.
Then abruptly I heard a faint cry, seeming to come from somewhere far away, sounding as if someone was in agony. I realized it was Ina, crying in the ecstasy of intense orgasm; a feeling of supreme satisfaction flashed through me, further heightening my flood-tide of sensation as I realized I had managed to trigger her before she triggered me.
My instant of triumph was just that, a bare instant. Then I exploded as I couldn't remember having ever exploded before. The pumping of my throbbing ejaculation seemed so powerful it was threatening to suck every drop of fluid out of every cell of my body and leave me an empty shell. Talk about shooting stars and fiery comets and earthquakes! I seemed to be caught up in a whirlwind shot through with all three mind-bogglers.
It went on and on and on, as if I'd gotten something turned on that I'd never live long enough to turn off. Talk about a wild trip! Even while caught up in the midst of my own hurricane of sensation, I realized Ina was having orgasms like an exploding string of giant firecrackers going off one after the other without an instant's pause between. That gave me more satisfaction than my own storm of sensation. I might not manage to live through this, but she'd always remember me as a he-man.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Did you ever try to imagine what it would be like to fuck your own mother-in-law? I mean to fuck her for the pleasure you'd both get out of it, not to fuck her in a desire for her humiliation or revenge on her, or like that.
Of course if your mother-in-law looks and acts and sounds like the caricature of the typical mother-in-law we're all familiar with, I know the answer. Who'd want to dip even a borrowed wick into a pot of acid like that?
But this mother-in-law of mine, Myra Newsome, is about as far from the caricature as any woman could get. In fact, she was an important factor in many reasons for finally marrying her daughter Ina. I'd been living with Ina for three years, while I finished up my postgrad work, before we finally tied the knot legally; so I didn't have to marry her just to get her into bed with me. But there may have been a sneaking idea in the back of my mind that I'd boost my chances of one day getting Myra into bed with me if I made the relationship between Ina and me official. Besides, even today it's considered best for a college professor to be legally married to the woman he sleeps with the most.
Of course I won't pretend I don't think Ina's just about the greatest, too, because I do. I stayed with her for three years when there wasn't a legal thread tying me, didn't I? I stayed because I'd never met another girl I enjoyed being around more. As well as because I'd never been in the sack with another girl anywhere who could come even close to holding a candle to Ina. She'd had a postgraduate course in fucking and sucking that should have earned her a Ph.D., if her performance was a proper indicator.
The very first time I laid eyes on her mother, Myra, however, something about that old chick turned me on almost as much as Ina always had. She looked more like Ina's older sister, for one thing, than she did like her mother.
Myra had the same saucy swing to her ass as Ina did and a pair of legs that would match the very best you ever see on a Playboy centerfold. And talk about a pair of knockers! Ina was a long ways from being a slouch in the tit department; in fact, she had a pair of real beauties. But Myra's were just a little bigger. My tongue got hard every time I got another look at those boobs of hers. And in addition to her great body, she was a real fun person to be around.
I wasn't a bit surprised and certainly not shocked when Ina told me about her dad and mother swinging with other faculty members and their wives. That was only a few months after we'd started living together. I wanted to drop by to see her dad about something to do with an exam I was getting ready for at the time, wanted to just stop by unannounced. When she said we couldn't do it that particular evening, I insisted it had to be that evening. So she told me about the bunch of swinging professors there at the university and that her folks were hosting the party that night at their place, so non-members wouldn't exactly be welcome.
That may have been when I got the first glimmering of an idea how I was going to manage having the pleasure of sucking those tits of Myra's, in case all other approaches failed. Which they did. Myra was the best sport I'd ever known, no exceptions, and she never made a scene about a quick feel on the sly when Ina wasn't watching, but that's as far as I'd ever been able to get in three years of trying. She knew I wanted to fuck her the worst way, and she knew I knew she knew I wanted in the very worst way to fuck her, but in all that time she gave me absolutely no encouragement. That I'll have to admit. She showed no sign whatever of having any particular hunger for my fresh young body.
So I finished my graduate studies, was awarded my advanced degrees and snagged a professorship. The day I got my contract, Ina and I got the knot tied legally. And while we were on our honeymoon, which of course wasn't exactly the beginning of our sex life together, Ina like read my mind; she suggested that when we got back we go talk to her folks about sponsoring us for membership in the faculty swingers' club. Just to show my appreciation, I tried my damndest to screw her until she was ready to say "Uncle!", but that Ina just kept coming back for more. The way that girl could fuck! And I felt certain she'd inherited her talent from her mother.
So when Doc Newsome seemed to have some unexpected inhibitions about fucking his own daughter, I came up quick with the suggestion that the four of us give the incest scene a private tryout before they did anything about deciding whether or not to sponsor us for membership in their swingers' group. Ina picked it up. Myra thought it would be a great idea, too. That forced poor old Doc into kind of a corner. He had to go along or face the fact that the broad-mindedness he'd been so proud of so many years was just a fraud. No professional intellectual can endure that kind of a humiliation.
So Doc and Ina headed for our apartment and left me there at the house with Myra. I was drooling over the prospect of nearly three years of scheming now about to pay off. But I'd waited so long for this, that now that it was about to happen I was nearly as nervous as I'd been years before as a high school kid about to get my very first piece of tail. In surprising contrast, Myra acted just like always, as if nothing unusual was about to happen. She didn't even bother trying to dream up some excuse to send the younger girls and Pike to a movie or something else to get them out of the house. The kids were in the family room or in their own private rooms watching TV or studying or whatever, after we'd all had dinner together before Doc and Ina left.
Myra finished her after-dinner coffee, then came over where I was sitting trying to figure out just what the hell move I should make. As naturally as if it was something we'd done many times, she extended a hand for mine as she suggested, "Let's go up to my master bathroom and take a shower together. That's a nice clean way to start getting better acquainted, don't you think? And besides, taking a shower with a friend is the most enjoyable way I know of to conserve our vital water resources."
"Sort of patriotic, when you look at it that way?" I suggested, picking up her lighthearted air eagerly.
"What else?" she chuckled, and led me upstairs to her master bedroom.
She did lock the bedroom door. "Just to make sure we don't have an interested audience," she told me with a wink as she turned from the door. I like to fell over when she added, "The kids like to study different people's techniques, but having spectators at a big first experience like this would be a little too much."
I nodded dumbly and let her lead me on to the edge of the huge king-size bed. She sat me down there and began undressing me. No Nipponese geisha ever gave her master more dedicated service. When she had my shirt off, she was considerate enough to take a moment to remove her own blouse, thereby affording me a delicious view of those big, ripe boobs of hers. They jiggled and shook and strained against the restraint of a very brief bra most delightfully as she moved. The way they seemed to be constantly threatening to spill over and completely escape the confines of that skimpy bra had me holding my breath in anticipation. She went down on her knees before me to untie my shoes; I wasn't allowed to so much as step out of them unassisted; she gripped my ankle gently with one hand and removed the shoe with her other. All the while her efforts also were affording me a delectable aerial view of those lusciously full, moving breasts.
That view had triggered an increasingly taut swelling in the crotch of my pants as my cock came to attention and began trying to protrude through the material. I wondered if Mother New-some would feel I was reacting like an uncultured country rube? Would she be inclined to the view that such a feverishly ready total response ought not be manifested until after an artistic series of prolonged ministrations? If so, I had been betrayed by my over-anxious penis.
When my shoes and socks were off, Mother N. removed my trousers, paused a moment to fold them and lay them on the edge of the bed beside me. Then she slipped my shorts slowly downward, expertly untangling them when they hooked on my rigid prong; I almost came right there in her hand, the way she touched my eager tool was so erotic.
I haven't been interested in burlesque since; spend your money, if you like, for admission to a striptease show which features the artistically staged view of a woman removing her own clothing, but take my word for it you're getting gypped. Since that first night with Mother N. I'd far rather have a woman with skills like hers remove my clothes.
She drew my shorts on downward toward my knees while my feverishly excited cock stood at rigid attention trying to look her squarely in the eye. She smiled quietly, puckered her ripe, moist lips, seemed about to kiss it. But instead she touched it again with the fingertips of one hand, lightly stroking it from tip to root as she murmured, "How very manly and handsome we are!"
I don't know to this day what it is about her hands; I very nearly passed out. The trite stories about mothers-in-law would all soon be forgotten if there were many of them like Myra.
I flopped back upon the bed on my back, at the same time elevating my rear to thrust my tingling cock into her hand harder. But it was gone suddenly. While I was pulling myself back together, she skinned out of the rest of her clothes. I opened my eyes and glanced up when I heard her say, "Come on, Darling." There she was standing over me at the side of the bed as naked as a Venus, her hand out-reached to me invitingly.
She led me to the big shower-stall. While she got the water temp adjusted to her satisfaction, I stood behind her with my arms around her, one of those luscious big boobs cupped in each hand with my stiff cock pressed into the crack of her sweet ass like a hot dog nestled between the two halves of a bun.
When the water was flowing right, she turned the shower-head suddenly, spraying me. Then she turned to me and began soaping me from head to foot. Actually, though, my feet weren't where she finished up lathering me. Where she finished up was gently stroking my rigid penis, covering it with a lather of sensation as well as a lather of soap. The sensation had me breathless, having to struggle to keep enough oxygen flowing into my lungs to sustain life. If jacking off with one's own hand could even come close to producing the quality or quantity of sensation that Mother N.'s hand was creating for me, there would be no need for birth control pills. I've been a fairly active cocksman since a Senior girl got my cherry the second week after I started my first year of high school, so I've been in more than just a few pussies in my time. But very few of those pussies had enough education to give me anything that even approached the quantity or quality of sensation my sweet mother-in-law's lathered hand gave me there during our first shower together. Just that quick she had me nearly blowing my mind.
But as I teetered on the verge of triggering what promised to be the most glorious, most sensational blast-off in my entire career of phallic rocketry, she abruptly stopped. She switched her hand back to that damned shower-head, twisting it to hit me with a drenching spray again. That sent the outer lather of soap suds slithering downward off my body and into the drain to disappear forever. It slightly cooled the invisible, inner lather of excitement she had brought foaming up almost to the bursting point in what writers once would have called "my rubicund engine" which translates into modern language to mean my tingling cock; but thank Aphrodite, that lather did not disappear.
My attention was briefly distracted from it, however, when Myra turned off the water and pounced on me with a woolly bath towel. By the time she pushed me out of the bathroom, propelling me back toward that huge bed, she had the skin of my entire body glowing.
Then I was stretched upon my back upon the bed again, eyes closed, feeling pleasantly drowsy, while Mother N. finished drying my lower legs and feet to her satisfaction. She took me completely off guard, therefore, when her hot, moist lips suddenly closed over the head of my cock. I let go with a long, quavering, "Ah-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!!!" and bowed up into an arch supported by my heels on the floor and my neck and head on the bed. I froze there. She had gone to work on the head of my penis like it was a knob of sweet candy.
Talk about floods of sensation! What she'd given me with her hand was nothing by comparison. That hot tongue of hers was licking at the sensitive under-side of my cock with rapid-fire strokes while her sweet lips were sucking. Within seconds I felt the onset of the most massive, most awesome, most tremendous ejaculation of my whole life.
Then the momentous moment was upon me. I was tossed about wildly upon a raging sea of ecstasy. I was faintly aware of and surprised by the intense force of the geysering blast of sperm I was shooting into Mother N.'s hungry mouth and throat. It wouldn't have surprised me if its force had blasted a hole through the back of her head; it felt that powerful. But through the thundering waves of sensation battering my senses came the realization that her greedy mouth was still nursing at my pumping cock just as demandingly as ever; obviously she had not been damaged but was thriving. So I dismissed all thought of anyone else or anything except making the very most of this wild, wild trip I was on.
When it finally was all over, when Myra had finally sucked me completely dry, I felt that my bones had all been turned to jelly. I refused to give in to the feeling, however; what the hell, we had a whole night still before us. I still hadn't gotten into Mother N.'s luscious pussy. As great as her mouth had been, I knew that pussy of hers had to be out of this world. I had to get my starch back! But I still doubt if I'd ever have made it... if sweet mother hadn't given me a new surprise.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
As she waited for her beloved son to return from taking that girl home, Myra Newsome found fleeting memories of the first night she'd spent with her son-in-law flashing through her mind. She'd told him, before they both drifted off to sleep awhile before dawn, that his performance rated right up there at the top, according to her score card.
But her biggest source of personal satisfaction had been a personal secret: now she no longer felt any need to keep her intimacies with Pikey a secret from his father, because Rod had been receiving his baptism into incest from Ina. Now her sexual pleasures with Pikey would no longer have to be restricted to only certain times to avoid Rod's detection. Half the time while she was in son-in-law Chuck's arms and his rigid penis was thrusting furiously into her gluttonous pussy, she was multiplying her sensations by imagining he was Pikey. She had been so filled with anticipation of the sexual trips she'd be able to make openly from that night on with Pikey that every sensation seemed to be intensified.
But tonight, before her exciting fantasy had been given an opportunity to become reality, they'd returned home from a concert at the Hollywood Bowl to find that girl in Pikey's room in bed with him. Fresh fury threatened to break through Myra's taut control each time she thought of it. And she seemed unable, as she waited, pacing the library floor, to think of anything else. So she began encouraging and trying to prolong her memories of the activity two nights before with Chuck. It was the only way she could find escape from the burning jealousy and bitter disappointment her cherished son had given her.
But she found herself unable to remember the things she'd done with her son-in-law without also remembering the thrills she'd anticipated having in the arms of her son; it was a vicious circle, now that that blonde intruder had been admitted to her private paradise. She wanted to cry, but wouldn't allow herself to give in to it.
She abruptly stopped her pacing, listening, straining her ears, hoping to catch the distant sound of an approaching car. But there was nothing. Only silence. A whole world filled with night-time silence outside; a whole big houseful of silence within. She suddenly felt so alone, so isolated. Where could Pikey be? Why was he taking so long?
Then low sound of movement, just a whisper, startled her. She whirled, wide-eyed. Her husband stood in the library doorway. She greeted him with an instant cry of, "Where could he be? Do you suppose that girl did something that caused him to have an accident? Should we call the police?"
"What are you in such a stew about?" Dr. Newsome asked quietly.
Sounding almost furious with him, she cried, "He-could be lying hurt in a street somewhere!... or at the bottom of a canyon! Or-"
"Or he could be enjoying a fifth or sixth helping of that girl's sweet ass," Pike's father broke in, overriding her cry of anguish. "Get hold of yourself, Myra. I've always thought you were too intelligent to come down with an acute case of Momism."
"It isn't simpleminded Momism, damn you, Rod Newsome!" she snapped, lusting to hit him a hard one with something.
"Have it your own way, Darling, but whatever it is you sure need something soothing for your nerves," he chuckled quietly. "Come on up to bed with me and I'll give you the best cure for all ills."
"I don't want you giving me the cure for all ills tonight," she cried, her hands clenched before her in shaking fists.
"What?" her husband said sharply, surprised at her rejection of an invitation to a roll together in the sack.
"I wanted Pikey to give it to me tonight!" she wailed, obviously very near to being in tears.
Her husband stared at her a moment, now really surprised. Finally he asked in a rising voice, "Pike?"
"Yes, Pikey!" his wife lashed at him defensively. "You enjoyed a whole night with Ina just two nights ago. Remember?"
"But Pike's not married yet," Dr. Newsome protested.
"Pike's not married yet!" she mimicked him sarcastically, then demanded, "What the hell difference does that make? If you can spend a whole night screwing our oldest daughter, what's so different about me enjoying myself a little with our son? I can't see that whether or not he's married yet really has any bearing on the situation. You've always been a great one for saying, 'What's sauce for the gander, is sauce for his goose.' Or have you suddenly changed your mind about that?"
Rod Newsome stood staring at his distraught wife for a moment, more than a little amazed at her unusual behavior. Finally he shrugged, shaking his head. "No, I haven't changed my mind. I just supposed-"
"Well don't suppose any more!" she interrupted him sharply. "I'm human too, you know."
"It's not as if you'd missed out on spending that same night with our son-in-law," Newsome reminded her defensively. "I haven't tried to impose restrictions on you while indulging-"
"That's exactly what you're doing!" she interrupted sharply, accusingly.
"But, how do you fig-"
"A son-in-law, that's all Chuck is!" she snapped. "No more of a blood relative than any other professor in our group. And don't you dare try telling me that you found screwing Ina no different than it would've been screwing just any other young faculty wife who happens to join our group!"
Dr. Newsome chuckled abruptly, nodding as he exclaimed, "All right, Sweet, all right! You've made your point."
Still chuckling, he turned to go back upstairs, adding as he went, "But don't expect me to hold that boy down for you. You'll have to seduce him or rape him or whatever you can manage, strictly all on your own. And my guess is, tonight'll be a damned poor time to try it. After he gets back from taking that cute blonde home, his own mother may not look all that interesting."
"Is that what you think?" Myra yelled after him, her vanity sharply stung. "That just shows how little you really know about what goes on around here!"
She stood waiting for that to bring him back, asking exactly what she'd meant by that last remark. But she was disappointed; the faint sound of his footsteps on the staircase drew away without pause, then faded into the silence which again filled the big house.
* * *
Two hours later, during that darkest hour before the dawn, young Pike got back home. Before he got the motor of his car killed and the wheels completely stopped, his mother was at his elbow beside the car, crying, "Are you all right, Precious? I've been half out of my mind with worry!"
Instead of feeling she was treating him like an infant and reacting in fury, as many fellows his age would have done in such a situation, Pike was wise enough to realize what was really bothering her. Chuckling, he told her, "Come wiz me to zee casbah, my cheri. I 'ave save for you somezing to make you forget all zee worries. Come!" He stepped out of the car, took his mother's hand, led her back inside. Like a giddy, near-mindless girl she tripped along ecstatically beside him, her rending anxiety of the hours just past completely forgotten as he led her straight upstairs to his bedroom.
He kissed the back of her neck and nibbled at her ears while he undressed her. The complete transformation in her continued; grew even more pronounced, in fact. The mature, sophisticated, widely experienced woman had vanished under the magic spell of her son's touch and in her place had appeared a callow girl whose passions had escaped her control entirely and were running wild.
Pike was wise enough to the ways of woman to recognize the signs and therefore wasted no time on preliminary teasing. The instant her naked back touched the bed, Pike was between her legs, threading his ready needle into her slippery "eye". As he shoved his cock into his mother's steaming pussy to the hilt, it seemed to smash a shrill, anguished cry out of the depths of her trembling belly, straight up through her and out her tautly twisted upper mouth. Her hands caught at Pike's broad-shouldered back, the nails digging in to leave vivid scratches as she screamed again, struggling to pull him into herself deeper.
But pulling at Pike's back and shoulders failed to accomplish that; she grabbed at his narrow rump. She left another full set of scratch marks beginning on each side at the crack of his ass and extending unbroken to the sides of both thighs. As she scratched him, her scream raised higher, more taut with more anguish, as she succeeded in forcing his probing root even deeper than he'd driven it. It was only Pike's third thrust, but a woman's sexual reactions are far more psychological than physical; she had been building sexual tension to a feverish pitch during all her pacing hours before this actual coupling with him. She was ready and about to fire.
But Pike again recognized the signs. Before she quite managed to trigger off her first wildly soaring orgasm, he suddenly jerked his probing penis out of her ravenous cunt. Her tightly clenched eyes popped open, full of incredulous protest at this interruption. She found Pike sitting back easily upon his heels, watching her.
Myra's clutching fingers reached for him, but he was beyond her reach. "What are you trying to do to mamma, baby?" she wailed breathlessly, her hands gesturing him back to her frantically. "Come on back into mamma before she dies, baby!
Please make it good for mamma, sweet baby boy, baby! Please, please, please!"
"Listen to me!" Pike told her sharply.
She stared up at him, frozen for an instant with surprise at the tone of his voice. This was no child speaking to his mother; this was a man giving orders to his woman. Her mouth opened to respond, but she couldn't find her voice.
Pike knew he had her attention, however. He told her, "We've got to have an understanding."
"An understanding, Sweetheart?" she quavered in the voice of an unsure little girl. "What about?"
"About Tish Lees."
"That girl?"
"Not that girl," he corrected sternly, "MY GIRL!... Understand?... My girl."
"Sweetheart, you don't need-" she began to protest with a rush of words. But he cut her short.
"I don't need you trying to tell me what or who I don't need!" he told her flatly. "If you don't stop it, I'll never touch you again. Understand?... Never!"
"Sweetheart, you can't mean-" she began again.
Again he cut her short, warning, "You'd better listen! Hear me?... You'd better believe I mean it! I'll never touch you!... Never!... Unless you change your whole attitude. And I don't mean just pretend. I mean change it!"
"My attitude?" she was quavering again.
"Your whole damned attitude about Tish," he nodded.
"How?" she asked, sounding bewildered.
"Just relax and accept her," Pike said, his tone starting to moderate. "I've fucked my four sisters for years, while I was taking care of you too; you've known about that all along, but you never got uptight about it."
"But that's been different, Sweetheart," she protested softly.
"How?" he challenged.
"Well... that's all been in the family. All four of them are your own sisters. An outsider isn't the same thing at all."
"Then you'd better decide I've got a new sister named Tish," Pike warned. "You call Tish an outsider just one more time and you'll be the outsider in my life. You either accept Tish as one of the family, now... or you just forget about me as a playmate in any more of your sex games. Because that's how it is. Got the picture? Of course, if I'm not worth putting yourself out that much for, forget it. But forget about you and me playing any more-"
"No, no, no!" she began a wailing protest. "I'll do anything you say, Pikey, but-"
"And knock off that 'Pikey' and 'Precious' garbage from here on, too!" he interrupted sharply. "Anyone little enough and sweet enough to be called Pikey or Precious can't be old enough, big enough, or man enough to fuck even a little girl and do her any good, much less a grown woman. So knock that off too, or you'll get no more service from me than you'd expect from a five or six-year-old."
"Whatever you say, Sweetheart," Myra murmured tensely. "Whatever you say! Just don't torture me this way any longer? Finish me up, please, Sweetheart?"
"You promise to be friendly to Tish, welcome her like one of the family, make her feel really at home whenever I bring her around here?" Pike persisted.
"I promise, Sweetheart, I promise!" Myra gasped. "Just you start acting like my friend again, huh? Put your wand back deep Inside me and make the magic start happening again before I die from need of you. Please, Sweetheart, please?"
"You'll be nice to Tish; always make her feel welcome around here, stop acting jealous?" Pike insisted.
"I'll be her best friend, if you say so," his mother vowed. "Only please remember I need you sometimes too."
Pike chuckled, declaring, "There's plenty of me to go around. You won't be slighted, little mother."
Suiting action to his words, he leaned forward over her again. Eagerly her arms went around his neck and her hips came up off the bed, thrusting her hungry vulva upward to meet him and grope impatiently for his penis.
But Pike drove her back down flat upon the bed, his full weight coming down against her momentarily as his arms went around her. Hugging her to himself, he turned both of them upon the bed, bringing her up astride of him. His mother quickly raised herself over him on hands and knees. She murmured, "You sweet boy," thanking him for the gift of the freedom of choice that position gives a woman; a freedom which for a great majority of women brings a psychological boost that heightens her capacity to experience a greater intensity of sensation than she can ever know with a man above her, thus enabling her to build to a more excruciatingly intense orgasm, and to do it far more frequently. In turn, that greater response from the female gives a healthy male ego a far bigger kick than can possibly result from lording it over her, from acting like a male brute exercising domination over her. Of all species, only the human male has that choice of yielding the dominant position to his female partner. If she isn't seriously sick, she always thanks him, not with words, perhaps, but always in much more important body language.
Myra moved her shoulders slowly, causing her beautiful breasts to sway back and forth over Pike's face, The pertly excited nipples brushed his lips temptingly, suggestively. He caught those full, ripe breasts in both hands, pressed them together, and sucked both eager nipples into his mouth as if they were two delicious cherries. He began licking between and around them as he sucked them, nursing at them as if he was famished. That brought a gasping moan of pleasure from his mother.
She shifted her weight to one hand. Her freed hand reached downward between their bellies and gripped Pike's cock caressingly. Then his mother fingered and petted her way on southward until she reached the most distant roots of his scrotum, filling that tautly full sack of flesh and the balls within it with delicious sensations. Trying to return the favor, Pike lapped and sucked at her rigid nipples even more ravenously.
She had every cell in his scrotum and balls tingling with indescribable sensation before she moved her electrifying hand back northward to again lovingly grip his penis. She began stroking the head of it up and down through the feverish moistness of her vulva's drooling outer lips.
Soon Pike could feel the accumulated abundance of hot, slippery juices gathered by the head of his penis on those frequent journeys back and forth through the outer lips of his mother's luscious cunt. Her juices were oozing downward over his entire shaft, covering it with a sensitizing coating.
Then Myra switched to a series of short, light, caressing strokes back and forth along the shaft of her tingling little clitoris with the head of Pike's penis. Almost instantly her breath began coming and going in sharp gasps, little explosions of sound like those produced by heavy exertion. The gasps became short, grunting groans, sounds of excruciating pain... or pleasure." She was deliberately subjecting herself to erotic torture, delaying the coupling her whole being was now screaming for.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Dawn came and grew into the brightness of full daylight before Myra Newsome finally collapsed upon young Pike. With determined craftiness, Pike had employed every trick and technique of control he had ever heard of in an effort to keep a stiff cock in his mother until he had wrung every drop of sexual desire out of her.
Without the assistance of some nupercaine ointment to desensitize the head of his penis, it had been a rough assignment. That educated pussy of Myra's seemed capable of exciting a thunderous ejaculation out of the penis on a stone statue. Several times the ejaculation Pike was faking had very narrowly missed becoming the real thing. The boost in the excitement of his mother's response whenever she thought Pike was coming was erotic as hell, multiplying his problem of control.
But she finally had hit that orgasm that had wrung the last tingle of sexual sensation out of her. Now she lay sprawled upon Pike in utter exhaustion, whimpering little moans still coming from her as she lapsed into exhausted sleep.
Suddenly Pike heard a teasing-voice giggle, "What on earth have you done to poor mamma again, Pikey?"
It was Mia standing there beside his bed, watching him with a bright, cunning smile. Pike looked up at his sister with a frown, demanding, "What'n hell are you doing here?"
She made a little gesture toward the windows as she exclaimed, "It's morning. I woke up feeling sexy. So I slipped in here, hoping maybe my sweet little brother would help me out?"
She reached to help as Pike turned under his mother's dead weight. As Myra's unconscious form was turned upon one side, then flopped back-upon-mattress, his stiff cock came sliding smoothly out of her as she fell away from him. Mia's eyes widened, then brightened with anticipation at sight of that hardness.
But Pike shook his head, murmuring, "I don't know, Sis. I've had a rough night. If there's one thing I could do without right now, it's another hungry pussy wanting me to fill it with hard meat."
"Just let me use the hard meat you've got all ready there, Honey," Mia whispered pleadingly as she climbed onto the bed. "A quickie is all I'll ask for, if you're tired."
When Pike didn't protest, she instantly straddled him. Almost more quickly than it takes to tell about it, she eased downward with her hips; her pussy found her brother's hardness with no need of help from a guiding hand. She came down on him with a quick, sure thrust. Pike's loving shaft was driven deep into the feverish mystery of his sister's vaginal sheath. A low gasp of pleasure came from Mia. "Lordy, but you feel delicious to a girl, you big-little brother, you!" she exclaimed. "I haven't found a single guy at school yet who knows enough about sex to make it feel as good as you always make it."
She pulled away an inch, then thrust at him hard again, pressing her smooth, flat belly tightly against Pike's. Her delight with the completeness of their coupling was obvious.
Pike tensed the muscles of his lower belly; the head of his penis gave a jump deep within her. A moaning gasp of pleased surprise came from his sister. She pressed her firm, proud young breasts downward to his mouth, wanting them kissed through the transparent thinness of her flimsy, pink mini-gown.
But Pike shook his head, declaring, "Get your damned clothes off if you want any more from me than you're getting right now. I refuse to do any thing else for a woman who wants to make love with her clothes on."
Mia sat back, straightening herself above him, his stiff cock still sunk to its roots inside her belly. She quickly raised her arms, pulling the transparent nightie up over her head. Her movements gave both of them delicious twinges of sensation. She rotated her bottom against him to heighten their mutual pleasure as she pulled the nightie free and tossed it aside.
Then she leaned forward over him again, bringing her luscious young tits to her brother's mouth. Pike caught them in his hands and was about to gobble the pink nipples when a masculine voice demanded, "Well, what kind of morning calisthenics are you practicing here, kids?"
Mia glanced around toward the hall door in surprise. Still pressing her tits together between his hands, Pike craned his neck, raising his head off the pillow to peer around Mia's arm toward the voice. They found their father standing naked in the doorway looking in.
Dr. Newsome was considerate enough not to keep them in suspense about his reaction to the scene he found before him there; he smiled and nodded approvingly. "Looks like a mighty good exercise for anyone to tone themselves up with before starting a new day," he declared. "But I woke up and found myself without my usual partner this morning."
"Come on and join us, why don't you, Daddy?" Mia instantly invited.
Dr. Newsome walked on into the room and stopped by the side of the bed. He looked down at his unconscious wife with an expression of incredulous curiosity, murmuring, "I've never in all the years seen her like that before. You must be a very exceptional man, Son. She looks like you've almost put her fire out completely."
"That's nothing unusual for Pikey," Mia exclaimed.
"What?" her father asked in surprise.
"That's right!" his daughter declared brightly. "Why the very first time he fucked mamma, he kept her rocketing away on one orgasm right after another until she passed out from exhaustion, just like she has this time."
"Then this wasn't the very first time?"
"Lord no, Daddy! Pikey's been servicing mamma right along with all the rest of us girls ever since he was thirteen," Mia explained matter-of-factly. She gave Pike a hump with a sudden movement of her hips, making his hardness move abruptly deep within her, giving both of them a twinge of sensation. Then she added, "Of course Ina got Pikey started screwing when he was twelve and we other three caught her and made her share him with us to keep us from tattling. We were afraid you might not be quite broad-minded enough to approve."
"And when your mother got into the act with the rest of you wantons, she had the same opinion about the limitations on my broad-mindedness, did she?" the professor asked knowingly.
Mia shrugged. "All I know is, mom's hardly been able to wait to get you into bed with Ina so you couldn't object when you found out about her and Pikey."
"I'll be damned!" Professor Newsome exclaimed.
"She's often said she hated having to keep a single thing secret from you," Mia added. "She really digs you, considering how many years you two've been married. I don't think I could be happy having to live with any one man that long, myself. It's really pretty amazing, the way you two groove after so long together." As she finished, she took her father completely by surprise, leaning suddenly to plant a wet, warm kiss right on the head of his slowly erecting penis. It brought explosive gasp hissing out of him.
"Like that?" Mia asked.
"You sexy little vixen!" her father exclaimed in a breathless whisper.
"Hey, I've got a great idea!" Mia exclaimed, if struck by a sudden inspiration. "Would you like to help Pikey do something I'd really super enjoy?"
By then Professor Newsome's cock was at rigid attention, ready, willing, and just waiting. He nodded, "You name it, Sweetie. If I've got the equipment it takes, I'll do it for you."
"You've got exactly the equipment it takes, I'll do it for you."
"You've got exactly the equipment it takes, Daddy," his daughter exclaimed with an excited laugh, then leaned suddenly to him again. This time she surprised him with more than a wet kiss. The knob-like head of her father's swollen penis slipped through her moist, full lips and disappeared with a couple of inches or more of the rigid shaft behind it into Mia's hot mouth. Professor Newsome's knees hinged a little, letting him sink an inch or so toward the floor as his head rolled back on his shoulders and a long, anguished sounding, "Ah-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!!!" came out of him.
Then his daughter began licking up and down the whole length of his cock like it was a delicious big peppermint stick. She interrupted that at intervals to give the big knob another quick suck. Within moments she had the entire length of her father's stiff cock dripping with a generous coating of her saliva.
She raised her head from doing that, looking up at him suddenly with an impish expression to declare, "You're all lubricated up good and ready to give me the business, now. Will you really do it?"
"Do what?" her father asked, his breath coming raggedly.
"Shove that up my asshole while Pikey stays under me in my cunt?" she asked, sounding breathlessly excited.
Her father stared at her in amazement, then protested, "That would be intensely painful to you, Darling. Where did you ever get such a ridiculous idea? Some men think they like fucking a woman that way, but I've never heard of a woman who could honestly say she enjoyed it."
"Then meet your first woman who honestly enjoys being fucked in the asshole, Daddy, dear," Mia responded instantly. "Two guys had me that way at a beach bash I went to a year ago and I've been wild about it ever since. For me there's no other way that feels quite as funky as having two hard cocks in me down there, both giving me plenty of action at the same time. Come on, now, and try it, before all those slobbers I put on you dry up."
"You're sure?" her father asked incredulously.
"I'm positive," she assured him. "Come on, quick!' He climbed across his soundly sleeping wife legs to get into position on the bed behind Mia She let her belly sink downward against Pike's to open her buttocks more widely. Her father brought the head of his rigid penis forward until it lightly touched the puckered brown button of her anus. There he hesitated, asking, "You'll tell me the instant anything starts hurting you, Sweetie?"
Mia wiggled her rump invitingly as she promised, "I'll tell you if anything starts hurting. Just hurry, while there's still plenty of my slobbers to make you good and slippery, if you want to be sure not to hurt me."
"I never did this to any woman in my life before," Professor Newsome murmured wonderingly. "I always thought the kind of men who did were self-indulgent, inconsiderate beasts. And now here I am with my own-"
"Talk about it later, Daddy!" Mia interrupted impatiently. "Come on and get it in me!"
He pressed forward.
"Grab me by the hips," Mia coached, "and pull me on like a nice, tight glove, or you'll push me into the headboard and drag Pike's cock loose from my cunt. Grab me, now!"
He grabbed her by the hips. He pulled back on her hips as his own hips pressed forward. He was amazed to see that puckered brown button of her anus begin to open before the swollen head of his demanding penis. Then that fiery knob suddenly disappeared, swallowed up. He was inside her!
Suddenly the muscular ring of her rectal sphincter, tautly stretched around that sensitive head of his penis, began rhythmically contracting again. He groaned, sensation flooding through him.
Mia chuckled, wiggled her ass and leaned back against her father's rigid cock, an unmistakable invitation to him if not a demand that he drive it into her more deeply. The sensation she was giving Dr. Newsome had him captivated, helpless now not to go ahead with what he'd started. He advanced in little steps upon his knees, pressing closer and still closer, driving his shaft into her daughter's asshole deeper and still deeper.
Then he was in her to the very roots of his cock, his pubic hair flattened against the smooth roundness of her buttocks. Suddenly he felt something deep within her begin stroking back and forth against the underside of his buried penis, kicking up a wild sensation like he'd never experienced before. Mia had started moving slowly up and down over Pike. Her father suddenly realized that what he felt was his son's rigid cock in his sister's vagina as her movement caused it to stroke back and forth against the thin wall of tissue which separated her vagina from her bowel. The heads of their two cocks were almost rubbing together deep within her! Just the idea of it seemed to do something that loosed a suddenly mounting storm of sensation.
Rod Newsome began thrusting in and out of his daughter's rectum while she made short thrusts up and down over her brother. Now that both stiff cocks were in motion within her, Mia was beginning to moan and gasp and utter squealing little noises of ecstatic pleasure.
Abruptly she began thrusting faster and harder against Pike's hard penis, her voice rising into a quavering scream. The next instant Professor New- some felt the beginning pulsations of what seemed like every muscle throughout the girl's entire lower body. Those rectal muscles gripping his hardness began milking at his penis, giving his already fantastic storm of sensation another skyrocketing boost.
That triggered him! He clutched at his daughter's hips until his nails made livid marks in her soft skin, his head rolled back on his shoulders, eyes clenched shut, lips pulled tautly back from his teeth in a snarling grimace. A strangled yell tore its way from his constricted throat. His whole body seemed almost to be twisted and torn by the massive surges of sensation roaring through it, curling his toes, rolling his eyes back in their sockets.
When his storm of passion had passed, he was left feeling almost too weak to hold himself upright. His already softening penis came sliding out of Mia's ass as he slumped back upon his heels behind her. But she was still yelling and gasping and moaning by turns as she continued to hump Pike frantically. Either her orgasm was stretching out surprisingly long or she had blasted off on a new one already. Pike was hanging onto her luscious tits with both hands, gobbling away at them like a starving man.
Then a hand closed upon Professor Newsome's elbow; he glanced around, startled. He found Mia's twin, Jill, and his youngest daughter, BeBe, both standing there at the foot of Pike's bed, watching. It was Jill's hand on his elbow. When she saw she had his attention, she protested, "It's not fair, Daddy, Mia monopolizing both you and brother. You've got to come give BeBe and me a good-morning treat,, or we're going to know you don't love us."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A good shower with his two daughters helped restore a lot of Professor Newsome's verve. More stimulating than the water was the feel of their lathered hands as they took turns caressing his balls and sudsing away every bit of the shit from Mia's asshole which had been smeared on his penis. The messiness of anal fucking had equalled all he'd ever imagined it might; that aspect of such a coupling still didn't appeal to him. As the other two girls washed his limp dick he found himself wondering what in hell ever had possessed him to make him do such a thing? And particularly to one of his own daughters! He still found it impossible to believe that kind of coupling actually could have felt good to Mia. He felt almost embarrassed that the other two girls had watched him doing such a thing to their sister.
But neither of them seemed to be wasting any time thinking about it. They were busy trying to tease his wilted penis back to proud erection. For a time, however, their best efforts seemed as futile as trying to resurrect the dead.
The giggling sisters led their father out of the shower, at length, and toweled him dry, raising a rosy glow throughout the skin over his entire body. As they finished, Jill asked, "Have you ever participated in a menage a trois, Daddy?"
Wryly he countered with, "You're asking that, after what you just saw me doing to Mia?"
"Hey, that's right, that was a two-man-one-woman menage, wasn't it?" Jill exclaimed laughingly. "But what I had in mind was a two-woman-one-man menage. Were you ever in one of those?"
Her father nodded, smiling slightly. "A few times at various parties thrown by our faculty swingers, I've been the lucky guy in that kind of menage."
"Great!" Jill exclaimed. "You're already experienced, then, at the game BeBe and I want you to play with us."
"How do you happen to both be familiar with it?" her father asked.
"Don't be naive, Dad," Jill chided gently. "All four of us used to take turns pairing off to have Pikey take us on two at a time." Rod Newsome shook his head. "I don't know how that boy's managed to make the showing he has as an all-around athlete, the way you five women seem to've been trying to keep him drained."
"We've helped Pikey, not weakened him," BeBe spoke up. "We've helped him get regular exercise, reduce nervous tension, and develop marvelous control."
"Come on," Jill urged, dropping her towel and grabbing her father's hand as she headed into her bedroom. BeBe hurried along with them at his other side.
As he reached the edge of the bed, the girls grabbed their father's shoulders, turned him, and toppled him backward upon the mattress. Then they jumped up on the bed on either side of him, laughing and bright-eyed with anticipation.
Newsome glanced downward at his crotch. He discovered his cock was still just as shriveled and limp as it had been when they stepped out of the shower. Ruefully he glanced from side to side at his expectant daughters. "Sweethearts," he began apologetically, "we may have to postpone this until later in the day. I do have a lecture to deliver-"
"Stop trying to tease us, Daddy!" Jill interrupted, sharply. "It's two hours before you have to be at the university. And neither of us have an early class today. We have lots of time."
"Don't you want to make love to Jill and me?" BeBe chimed in accusingly.
"I'd love nothing better than making love to you two," her father protested, then ruefully pointed to his limp penis as he added, "but His Majesty hasn't seemed to get my message."
"All His Majesty needs is a fast-charge for his batteries!" Jill exclaimed. "I'll fix that!"
"Great!" her father said heartily. "I can't wait!"
"BeBe, you stretch out," Jill directed, taking charge. "Daddy, you get over her like His Majesty was hard and you were getting ready to send him exploring BeBe's magic cave. You might help things along by nibbling on her tits while you're waiting. I want you in sort of a knee-chest position."
As BeBe and her father were arranging themselves in the positions Jill had specified, he asked, "And exactly what are you going to be doing while I'm nibbling BeBe's nipples, Jill baby?"
"I'm going to be kissing you," Jill chuckled as her father got into position over her younger sister, his rump thrust high into the air above his head and shoulders.
"Kissing me?" he echoed in surprise. Then a startled yelp came out of him; Jill's tongue had been thrust into the crack of his elevated ass suddenly. She licked wetly from the roots of his scrotum upward across his sensitive asshole.
At the end of that first moist swipe, she briefly raised her face from his rump to exclaim, "Right, Daddy! Kissing your ass! That'll put the lead Hack in your pencil but fast!"
Then she returned to kissing and licking, back and forth from scrotum to anus, then back again Almost immediately she had Newsome moaning and groaning as if she were hurting him.
Within moments he began short humping movements at BeBe's waiting pussy below him. Then she began helping matters along; one of her hands, closed around her father's steadily swelling cock and dipped the head of it into the moistly hot embrace of her slippery young cunt. She stroked the steadily enlarging head of it back and forth in that sweet nest a few times, until it was thoroughly coated with her slippery juices. Then she began stroking the head of it back and forth along the shaft of her own excited clitoris.
A moment later, the transformation from wilted limpness to rigid hardness was complete; she switched the head of it from caressing her clitoris to the entrance of her tunnel of ecstatic mysteries, her honey-coated vagina. The hesitancy he'd felt about thrusting into his eldest daughter only a few nights before had entirely vanished; a sudden forward shove sent his hungry shaft into his youngest daughter in a headlong plunge that stopped only when his belly slammed tightly up against BeBe's.
She grabbed his head with both hands, her fingers working in his hair, as she exclaimed, "You're great, Daddy! You really feel groovy!"
The slippery hotness of the grip with which her vaginal sheath surrounded his hard penis kicked up a billowing cloud of sensation that enveloped his entire body. His blood pressure rocketed, dimming all sound other than the hammering of his own heartbeat in his ears.
But Jill's insistent voice broke through, protesting, "Not so fast, there! Not so fast! First treat's mine!"
Dr. Newsome's eyes popped open in surprise. He glanced around toward the demanding voice. Jill was standing beside the bed, now, bending over him and BeBe. Her usually smiling face was so serious it looked strained. She was doing a kind of dance from one foot to the other, very much like a small child trying desperately to control a terrific urge to urinate. She was obviously so hot she was about ready to climb the wall.
"Sorry, Sweetheart," her father murmured, "we didn't mean to leave you out."
He quickly turned, taking BeBe with him, bringing her up astride of him as he rolled over on his back. As they settled into that new position, BeBe looked at her older sister, demanding, "What's all this about first treat's yours? You know the rules!"
"All right, all right!" Jill responded sharply as she climbed on the bed and quickly positioned herself astride their father too, putting his head between her knees.
An instant before she got her impatient pussy shoved against his mouth, he quickly asked, "What's this about rules? What rules?"
That's all he had a chance to say; Jill covered his mouth with her hot cunt. But she did take time to tell him, "Our menage rules, Daddy. Every time one of us is about to come, we try to hold it off a little longer by breaking contact long enough to switch places. The longer you can hold off your first orgasm, the more of a mind blower it is when it finally happens. And the one who can hold it off the longest, wins. Except that most times it's more like a tie, because something about one of us starting to blast off seems to shoot the other one a special charge of added excitement that triggers her too. It's really far out! So please start eating me, sweet Daddy! Eat me!"
Her rush of words ended in a high yell of ecstasy as her father's tongue thrust deep into her lower mouth, delivering a genuine French kiss. Jill grabbed him by the hair, pulling his face up harder against her tingling vulva. While his tongue licked in and out of her, he moved his head slightly, stroking her rigid clitoris with the tip of his nose. Another high, quavering yell came out of Jill, then she was gasping, "We've got to switch, BeBe! We've got to switch!"
Dr. Newsome lay there in the center of Jill's bed feeling a certain amazement at the practiced speed and precision with which the sisters changed places. One instant his hard penis was buried to its roots in BeBe's sweet nest, his tongue in Jill's burning cunt and his nose in her bush, but an instant later Jill was starting his penis into the slippery cunt his tongue had just been licking and his nose was being buried in BeBe's curly bush. In all his years of faculty swingers' parties, nothing quite like this had ever before happened to him. As BeBe's cunt covered his mouth, she leaned down to whisper urgently, "Tease my titties with your fingers, Daddy, while you're eating me. Please? I'll reach behind me and pass the good deed on back to Jill."
Dr. Newsome raised both hands, found one of his youngest daughter's firm, proud breasts with each of them, and began teasing the pert, pink nipples while he delivered a deep, searching kiss as far inside the lips of her hungry lower mouth as his tongue could reach. A moan of delight came from BeBe and she ground her greedy cunt against her father's mouth harder.
Behind her, BeBe's hands were busily teasing Jill's nipples while Jill rode their father furiously, making his swollen penis stroke almost frantically in and out of her. Her head was tipped back, her eyes closed. An almost continuous, sobbing cry was coming from her tensely twisted mouth.
Professor Newsome switched his tongue from BeBe's vaginal throat, licking upward through her sweet labia to her rigid little clitoris. As the tip of his tongue touched it, BeBe screamed. Her hands came flying forward from her older sister's nipples to her "father's head, clutching at his hair.
But after one strong pull, grinding his whole face deeper into her ravenous pussy, she remembered where her hands were supposed to be. She sent them back to teasing Jill's tits again.
Both sisters were now uttering almost continuous cries and moans and groans, each one's excitement seeming to make the other's skyrocket. Jill was riding their father's cock almost frantically. She abruptly interrupted her ecstatic crying and moaning, but without missing a stroke, yelling, "If you want to switch again before blast-off, we'd better switch!"
"I'm in heaven right here; to hell with any more switching!" BeBe gasped raggedly.
Suddenly Jill's hands clutched her younger sister's hips as she leaned forward and began covering BeBe's back and sides and neck with a frenzy of kisses and tiny love-nips. But that didn't slow her frenzied thrusting. She was hammering her father's cock in and out of her cunt so hard and fast that her young belly was making a slapping sound against his like that made by two applauding hands.
Meanwhile, their father closed his lips around BeBe's saucy little clitoris. He began sucking it gently while stroking it caressingly with the tip of his tongue. That raised a trembling, anguished scream from somewhere deep inside his daughter. She leaned down to press her nipples harder against his caressing fingers as she thrust her cunt against his mouth more demandingly.
Then an agonized screech came out of Jill as her entire body began to pulsate with orgasm. In almost the same split-second, BeBe again grabbed their father by the hair and pulled his face against her cunt as if trying to smother him; she too began screaming ecstatically as the thundering pulsations of orgasm shook her.
Her father held his breath and went right on tonguing her harder than ever, hoping he could hold out. The tactic worked; suddenly her fingers loosened their grip on his hair and jerked away, her hands flying up to clutch at her own hair like she suddenly feared the explosions of sensation within her might blast off the top of her head. He pulled his face away from her feverish pussy just enough to grab a breath of fresher air for his tortured lungs.
But it was an almost totally involuntary action done without conscious thought because the good professor's conscious attention actually was not upon his desperate need for breath. His whole consciousness was caught up in a towering wave of burning excitement that was roaring through him. This experience of having triggered these two daughters off into almost simultaneous orgasm magnified his own personal flood of sensation in an incredible way. Experienced cocksman that he was, he determined to try to control it, to stretch it out, and with it his enjoyment of it, just as long as possible. That problem, of controlling such riptides of sensation was the critical matter of supreme importance on which his whole attention was fixed. He was determined to make it last as long and be as good for both girls as his son Pike ever had.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Pike Newsome had the strongest, most capable hands I'd ever seen, and certainly the grooviest hands I'd ever known anything about when they were on my body. His strong right hand had been rifling bull's-eye passes to receivers since the first game of our football season. The coach and every other player on our team gave Pike a clear title to acclaim as our most valuable player. Who had ever heard of Beverly Hills High having a State Championship Football Team? Who had ever heard of Beverly Hills High having even an L. A. City Championship Football Team before Pike transferred into our school?
The more famous Pike's feats on the football field had made him, the more widely known and envied I'd become as his steady girlfriend. Because regardless of how they'd tried, not a single other girl had been able to lure Pike into having a date with her since that night he took me out on our first date and we wound up rucked out on the bed in his room. After his parents caught us asleep together there, both of us stark naked, I thought, from the way his mother acted, that I'd be lucky if he ever spoke to me again.
But Pike gave me the most pleasant surprise possible; the next day at school, he acted like he couldn't stand having me out of his sight. That night we were out together again; that night his parents and three younger sisters all were home, but that didn't stop Pike. He introduced me to Mia and Jill and BeBe and we talked about favorite recordings and musical groups and stuff like that for awhile. Then Pike excused us and led me by the hand upstairs to his room. As we started up, his mother called from the library, "Have a good time, kids."
It was wild! Something obviously had changed her attitude completely since she'd walked in and found me in bed with Pike the night before. So I soon seemed to be spending more of my evening time at their house than I did at home. It was like I'd become habit-forming to Pike, like he'd developed a dependency. Nothing could have pleased me more, of course. I became his steady, not just after every football game but almost every night of every week.
Now the State Championship game had just been played and the championship won for our school by Pike's passing and his strategy as our team captain. So, naturally, I was feeling even more delirious with joy than the happiest of all our other girls. I couldn't remember having ever been so happy. Pike was the undisputed king of our campus and I was his unrivaled queen. The envy in the eyes of other women when they look at you and your man always makes him just that much more exciting.
We both accepted Pike's obligation to make an appearance at the dance after the big game, but we slipped away as soon as we could. We were on our way to his car in the parking lot when he laid that talented right hand of his on my ass possessively. He hugged me hard against his side as he said, "The real celebration party's going to be thrown at my house tomorrow night. How about you going as my date?"
Teasingly I asked, "Would you let me think about it?"
"What's to think about, you broad?" he came back at me, pretending to be mad. "You like every kind of plain and fancy screwing, don't you?"
"You know I do, with you," I admitted frankly. "But what's that got to do with-"
"That's the kind of party it's going to be," he interrupted me. "Just a small, informal, family screw-together."
"Family screw-together?" I echoed in amazement. "You've got to be putting me on!"
He gave my ass an affectionate squeeze, chuckling, "I can hardly wait, from one time to the next!"
I teased, "Are you telling me I've been so unavailable you've been forced to dream up a story as wild as that?"
"As wild as what?" he asked innocently.
"As wild as what you just said about having a family screw-in tomorrow night," I shot straight back at him.
"Whole truth," he insisted. He raised a hand, palm out, adding, "Scout's honor."
We reached his car and he played the gentleman, opening the door for me. As I seated myself and Pike closed my door, I asked, "But why?"
Pike came around and got in on the driver's side. "It's a good omen," he said and hit the starter.
As we drove out of the school parking lot, I asked, "A good omen of what?"
"That mom and the girls have accepted you," he said quietly.
I asked, "What about your dad?"
Pike glanced at me with a mischievous grin. "Dad's drooling at the prospect of a chance to get better acquainted with you. A lot better acquainted."
That idea startled me. I hadn't thought about that possibility. "You mean he expects to fuck me?"
"You'd just better believe it," Pike told me. "And before it's over my brother-in-law'll probably take his turn having a roll with you in the grass."
"Would you be watching?"
Pike shrugged. "It's possible, but not probable. Mother and the girls won't be just sitting around twiddling their thumbs, you know."
"Wouldn't it bother you to see someone else screwing me?"
"Would it bother you to see me screwing someone else?" he instantly countered.
I nodded. "It might... Especially if it was your mother."
Pike said soberly, "That's a hangup you'll have to get over, if there's going to be any future for our relationship. The sooner you get it faced up to and put behind you, the better."
"It's not as if I'd never attended a group sex bash," I said quickly. "It's just that I've never felt about anyone else like I've started feeling about you. And on top of that, I've never attended an orgy that involved a mixed group."
"What the hell do you mean, a mixed group?"
"Teenagers and adults," I told him. "What else?"
Pike chuckled, shrugging as he said wryly, "Well, a lesbian orgy wouldn't involve a mixed group. How could I know what you meant without asking?"
"So I told you," I said, perhaps a bit sharply. "Do you really think I might have ever been mixed up with a bunch of lesbians?"
Pike shrugged again, declaring, "You seem to enjoy sex well enough to be a switch hitter."
"Well, for your information, I'm not!" I snapped.
"My mother and sisters all are," he said matter-of-factly. And that startled me. "So if you're prejudiced-"
"I didn't mean anything like that!" I interrupted quickly. Then another startling thought hit me. I asked, "What about you and your father and brother-in-law?"
"What about us?"
"Are you what you call switch hitters?"
Pike laughed, then exclaimed, "Hey, that's wild! I never even thought about it going that way, too. Switch hitting, I mean. A male switch hitter would suck cocks as well as eat pussy and fuck, wouldn't he?"
I nodded, "That would seem to be a logical assumption, if a female switch hitter eats other women's pussy as well as fucking members of the male sex and sucking their cocks."
Pike glanced at me, murmuring, "I guess there are still sexual experiences I haven't had. I've been so busy keeping five women satisfied, with Dad throwing in only a little help with mother until just very recently, that I'd never realized there were sexual frontiers I still hadn't explored."
"I'd just as soon you didn't," I told him, then found myself wondering why I'd said it almost before the words were out. Rather lamely I added, "I've never had a bit of interest, personally, in even horsing around with any lesbian type teasing. But I have seen other girls do it while they were steamed up at an orgy."
"Some of the faculty wives always do it at the swinging parties my folks have been in on for years," Pike said, "but come to think of it, I've never seen any of the men switch hitting. Maybe they're not as broad-minded as they all make out." He chuckled, as if that thought amused him.
I said, "Maybe it's just that the effects of homosexuality seem somehow more devastating upon a man."
"You sound prejudiced," Pike teased.
"Maybe I am," I admitted.
"Then I'll promise not to shock you by sucking any cocks if you'll be my date at our first family orgy tomorrow night," Pike proposed laughingly.
AS WE DROVE UP to the big, secluded New-some house the following evening, Pike nodded toward two vehicles parked there ahead of us. "The Corvette's Chuck and Ina's. The dune-buggy must belong to the beach-bum Mia's stuck on. When mother suggested I include you, Mia insisted she be allowed to include that creep."
"Now who's sounding prejudiced?" I teased.
"He's the son-of-a-bitch who's taught Mia to think she actually enjoys having her asshole reamed," Pike declared as he parked. He glanced at me and obviously caught my startled look, causing him to add, "That's right! She actually thinks she likes being fucked in the rectum. Lately she's always trying to get Dad or me to bang her that way. Or what she likes better yet is a menage with one stiff cock in her cunt and the second one in her asshole. I've told her to go to hell when she's wanted me in her ass."
"You are prejudiced!" I exclaimed quickly, trying to hide my own startled reaction, as he opened my car door.
"You bet!" Pike nodded. "I'd suck a clean cock on a dare or something like that if I felt enough was at stake; it can't be all that much different from eating a pussy, and I've been eating pussy almost ever since I can remember. But fuck a shitty asshole? That's where I draw the line. I've got too much respect for my own cock to stick him into anything like that where he'll come out smeared up with shit. If that's being prejudiced, then I'm prejudiced and proud of it!"
I laughed. Here he was, taking me to the kind of a bash this was going to be, but there were still some things against which he drew the line. That struck me as being really funny. But when Pike wanted to know what was so damned amusing, I passed it off and managed to get his attention distracted to something else. The fact was, I liked him better for having discovered he did still have some prejudices. I felt more confident he wouldn't allow anyone to attempt forcing something on me I just didn't go for. It had dawned upon me that a total lack of prejudice might in certain circumstances be just as bad or worse than too much prejudice.
We found everyone else gathered in the secluded big backyard behind the house, around the olympic-sized pool. Pike introduced me to Dr. Charles Martin, his brother-in-law, a tall, good-looking guy in his late twenties; and to his oldest sister, Ina. The only other one I didn't know was a huge, hairy-chested, blackly bearded, long-haired guy who looked like he could be a professional football lineman or a wrestler. Pike was going to ignore the fellow, but Mia quickly spiked that, calling, "Tish and Pike, this is my friend Frank Kennedy."
"No relation to the Massachusetts Kennedys back where you people hail from," the bearded young giant put in quickly in a rich bass voice that broke off in a nervous chuckle.
"Happy to meet you," I called. "Me too," Pike said rather grudgingly, then quickly glanced around at the others to demand, "What the hell kind of tea party is this? Anyone who wants to waste time sitting around making small talk can retire to the library. I'm going skinny dipping!" And he was pulling his clothes off.
Instantly all the sisters were shrieking and jerking halters and shorts off. It appeared to be a race they'd all taken part in many times. Then, hair flying, breasts swinging, they sprinted for running dives into the pool. All four hit the water ahead of Pike. Of course none of them had been wearing as many clothes as he had. Yet despite his handicap, before the first of them surfaced, Pike had dived in too and was under the surface.
"Come on, the rest of you!" Mrs. Newsome yelled at me and Frank Kennedy and Dr. Martin as she pulled her shorts down off her hips. Pike's father had been wearing only swimming trunks; he was out of them and diving into the water. An instant later his wife made a smooth dive and disappeared under the water right behind him.
Then young Dr. Martin had himself peeled to the buff too and went diving in after the others. That left Frank Kennedy and me. All he had on was an open shirt and a pair of swim trunks, so it wasn't the amount of clothing that handicapped him; it seemed to be surprise. Maybe Mia hadn't prepared him for what to expect like Pike had prepared me.
Of course I'd still been taken by surprise. But I was out of everything but my panties when those in the pool began jeering at the two of us still out of the water. Then all the women scrambled out and grabbed Frank and started pulling his clothes off while they dragged him toward the water.
They were all having a ball. I got so absorbed in watching the fun that I slowed down, not dreaming that someone might get similar ideas about dunking me. I had only one foot out of my panties when Pike's father hauled himself out of the water nearby. As he scrambled to his feet, suddenly I realized he was coming after me.
I shrieked and kicked my panties off my other foot straight at him. I couldn't have made a better shot if I'd practiced it every day; the panties hit him across the eyes and clung there to his wet skin like a blindfold as he lunged for me with arms widespread.
During the instant before he swiped that accidental blinder aside, I ducked around behind him, between him and the pool.
He stopped short, glancing from side to side in amazement, when he got his eyes cleared and discovered I'd disappeared. In the pool behind, Pike and Dr. Martin raised a jeering laugh that brought Dr. Newsome wheeling around.
At sight of me there behind him, he whooped, then lunged forward to grab me. Laughing, filled with a sudden heady feeling of strange, wild excitement, I retreated quickly before him to the very edge of the pool, then ducked out to one side at the last instant. He tried to check his lunge, tried to change direction to follow me.
But while he was off-balanced, I reversed my field, rushed back in, hands outstretched before me, and sent him flying out over the water in an outlandish sprawl. Pike and Dr. Martin whooped and clapped, applauding the way I'd turned the tables. Dr. Newsome hit the water, sending up a tremendous splash.
Across the pool, the girls even paused in their giggling, screeching struggle to drag the now naked Frank Kennedy into the pool, distracted by the action I'd given Dr. Newsome. They joined Pike and Dr. Martin in raising howls of laughter. A gut-splitting kind of laughter in which there were overtones of approval or perhaps even of admiration.
Then Pike's father surfaced. He heard the laughter. Almost instantly he sent a spray of water flying from the surface of the pool before him, propelled my way by a hard thrust of his open palm. Then he was on his way to the edge of the pool, coming after me.
I stooped and threw water in his face as he approached. He ignored it and kept coming. I yelped and sprinted away along the edge of the pool. I heard a swoosh of water as he came out of the pool behind me. Then I heard the slap of his wet feet on the decking as he sprinted after me.
The others began yelling, most of them rooting for me like spectators at a horse race. I managed to stay ahead of him for one whole lap around that big pool. But despite my big head start, he almost had me caught by then.
Rather than let him have an easy victory, I used my momentum to send myself into a long, reaching dive far out over the water. I went in very near the middle. I was stroking and kicking for all I was worth as I went under.
I surfaced to find the air still filled with the gleeful, rooting yells of encouragement from all the others. Just ahead was the other side of the pool. The girls had forgotten about Frank and were lined up there, leaning out, hands out-reached, to help me.
Suddenly I felt fingers start to close upon one ankle behind me. Then the girls had hold of my wrists and brought me flying up out of the water and away from those clutching fingers of my pursuer.
As I went sprinting away to the accompaniment of their shrieking laughter, I got a glimpse of Dr. Newsome's head as he broke water at .the edge of the pool behind me. I was beginning to feel winded from the chase, but he came lunging up out of the water with as much power as he'd started with. The girls helped me again by shoving him back into the water. He took two of them with him.
I tried to take advantage of my respite, sprinting away from the pool, across the broad patio to hide in the bushes that bordered the lawn beyond the pool area. Behind me there was a tumult of yelling laughter. I thought I was going to make it. I reached the sheltering bushes. I ducked through them and out of sight from the pool.
Just then a strong hand closed upon my shoulder. I was suddenly being swept off my feet, lifted high. I turned in the air. It felt the way something looks when you see it in slow motion. I found myself gazing up into Dr. Newsome's merry eyes. I remember thinking how much his eyes looked like Pike's, just then.
I yelled right in his laughing face, "Your son is terrible! Letting you do what you're planning to do to me, and he acts like he could care less! Doesn't lift a finger!"
Dr. Newsome like froze, stopping dead still, holding my wet, nude body there in his arms before him. He stared down at me, his eyes now searching and serious. Finally he said in a low voice, "You're beautiful enough to turn a man's head, my dear, but nothing will happen to you here that you don't wholeheartedly consent to. And we won't quibble about the technicalities of implied consent, won't remind you that no one forced you to discard your clothing and join our fun and games in the nude. If you've changed your mind, that's your privilege. I won't pretend I won't be deeply disappointed. But I'll still congratulate you for having enough courage not to allow yourself to be used. Because anyone who participates in something they don't wholeheartedly consent to is allowing themselves to be used, and that's degrading to human dignity."
He put me down, then said, "I apologize if I came on stronger than you were expecting."
He'd been so considerate, so thoroughly understanding, such a complete gentleman, considering the circumstances, that I felt like a perfect fool. Actually I'd meant to just be putting him on a little. But he'd taken me so seriously I couldn't admit that to him or I'd leave him looking like a fool.
Instead I said, "It's obvious to me why Pike is so sweet and considerate, always such a perfect gentleman in the way he treats a girl. He's just like his father."
"Thank you," Dr. Newsome said with a little bow.
"But I. still can't quite understand how Pike can seem to be so completely lacking in something as characteristic of all humankind as jealousy," I went on. "I thought he'd started liking me a whole lot."
"I can assure you, he has, my dear," Dr. New-some chuckled quietly, smiling again. "We all have. Otherwise you would never have been invited here this evening. Didn't Pike tell you? This is the very first family party of this kind we've ever had. By inviting you, we've in effect said we consider you a new member of our family."
"But there're some things a person won't share, even with other members of their own family," I protested.
"Not in our family," Dr. Newsome said. Then he chuckled again, adding, "At least not now. That's why we wanted you in on this very first family orgy."
"Why?" I asked, frankly puzzled.
"So Pike's mother could prove she'd finally been able to turn loose of him and share him without jealousy. You see, jealousy is a facet of possessiveness. And what is possessiveness? The feeling that you must own or possess something or someone exclusively or you can't be happy. Right?"
"I guess so."
"But none of us, no one, has a right to own another human being. Beyond that, it's an impossibility anyhow. The human spirit can't be owned by any outsider, by any second party. Each of us own our own I-ness, exclusively. Each of us has the right to share that personal I-ness, that unique individuality of ours, with many others. We must share it with many others... not restrict our sharing to but a single other person... if we are to experience anything near our full potential in this life. Do you follow me?"
"I think so," I nodded.
"Good. What is the most complete way, the most intimate way, any one of us can share our deepest I-ness with another human being?"
I took a wild guess, the first thought that popped into my head. "Sex?"
"Right!" Dr. Newsome exclaimed; I had a feeling he had to repress an urge to pat me on the head and tell me to go to the head of the class. "And isn't it interesting, and significant, that every human being who honestly faces themself has to admit they have an inborn yearning or craving for a variety of sexual experience with a variety of sexual partners? Exactly like they have an inborn craving for a variety of foods, for a variety of drinks, for a variety of experiences in all areas of life and activity. And of all those yearnings for variety, the only one humans systematically and almost universally suppress, is... sex. Right?"
I nodded and chuckled. He glanced at me sharply, eyes questioning. "I'm sorry," I told him. "It's just that you have it all laid out so intellectual and scholarly; but most of us modern kids don't need it justified that way. To us it seems like doing what comes naturally, so we do it without messing around with a lot of philosophizing."
He smiled wryly, then reminded me, "Yet you were the one who set me off with your complaint about Pike's apparent lack of jealousy."
I suddenly realized he had me there. I looked at the ground, embarrassed.
He chuckled and his hand closed around one of mine as he suggested, "Let's go back and join the others now."
I gave him a smile of thanks for his understanding.
Dr. Newsome said, "You know what all the others are going to think we've been up to, don't you?"
I laughed, "Whatever they think is their problem."
"Right!" he exclaimed approvingly. "And you know something else?"
"What?"
"I'm reasonably certain we've gotten better acquainted by having this little visit than we ever could have if we'd been doing what they'll think we've been doing. Body language has its importance, but good verbal communication is absolutely essential to really intimate understanding between two mortals. Too many of your generation seem never to have learned that. I'm glad you're different."
"You sure you don't want to take care of what you had on your mind when you chased me out here," I asked, pulling back against his arm, "before we go back?"
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
As Dr. Newsome and I returned to the pool area, I suddenly realized it had started growing dark while we had been out there beyond the bushes away from the others. I heard strange, erotic music resembling the accompaniment to a primitive ceremonial dance. The thickening gloom hid the whereabouts of the others from me at first. All I could see was a circle of brilliant light which had been focused upon a table which had been there on the patio near the pool side.
Then out of the surrounding shadows into that brilliance Mrs. Newsome dashed suddenly. One bounding leap took her from the patio level to the top of the bench at one side of the table, another took her to the top of the springy rubber raft which I saw had been placed atop the table. She paused there an instant, posing like a ballet dancer. For an older woman, she did have a lovely body. The flawless tan that covered her entire body gave her skin a gleaming, coppery glow under the spotlight.
Then she crumpled dramatically upon the improvised mattress and stretched herself upon it. as if offering herself on an altar to some pagan god.
That seemed to be the god's cue; he came bounding from the surrounding gloom in the lithely beautiful body of Pike. He too struck a pose momentarily, standing over the prostrated feminine form stretched at his feet. He broke it to catch what looked like a gallon can that came sailing out of the shadows like a football. At my elbow I suddenly heard Dr. Newsome whisper, "This is an idea Myra and I got during a party like this at the home of one of my colleagues. Dr. Thornton, a few weeks ago. I guess Myra's been dying to try it."
Pike made some passes over the large container, as if it was some kind of ritual vessel as he turned slowly from side to side, displaying it to the other unseen spectators I knew must be watching. Then I heard them begin a low chant as their hands were clapped in unison.
Pike raised the container high, then slowly tipped it. Suddenly a stream of thick, syrup-like liquid poured from it, falling upon the supine nude at his feet. We were near enough by then for me to see her excitedly puckered left nipple covered by the thick, brownish syrup, as well as the areola from which it rose.
We stopped where we were then, approaching no closer. Dr. Newsome joined the chant and clapping, the tempo of which was growing slight! faster, slightly more excited. So I joined in too, imitating the wordless chanting sound he began making.
In the spotlight, Pike moved the thin stream of falling syrup across his mother's chest to her right breast, anointing her rigid right nipple like he had the left. Then he moved the falling stream back to the valley between her breasts and started a zigzagging track downward to her navel. We were standing close enough now so that I was able to see the label on the big can Pike held; it was Hershey's chocolate syrup.
He circled her navel with the brown stream, then filled it. The chanting and clapping again increased slightly in tempo. I don't know whether it was just my imagination or not, but I seemed to feel an increasing intensity of electric-like anticipation.
From the pool under which our hostess's navel had disappeared, the winding brown track moved downward. It crossed the golden-brown lower belly. It came to the black forest of her pubic curls.
At first it sank into that curly muff and disappeared as if swallowed up. For the first time since she had stretched herself there upon the improvised altar, Mrs. Newsome moved; she spread her legs apart slowly. When her movement finally stopped, both feet were hanging off the edges of the table; the lips of her vulva were open, dividing that pubic forest, awaiting the anointing of that syrupy downpour.
Her mound of Venus was drenched by the falling torrent. A flood rolled down its southern slope toward that secluded cove below. Her little "man-in-a-boat" was swamped, bringing a low moan from her, the oozing caress of the syrup obviously stimulating heightened sensation in her clitoris. She began a sensuous thrusting with her hips.
Once more the beat of the chant and clapping quickened. It seemed fantastic how this impromptu, improvised ritual was building such a breathless atmosphere of anticipation. A strangely wild excitement was burning in my blood. I found myself experiencing in my feverish cunt the same flood of sensations I knew the sacrificial figure on that table must be feeling. What a trip!
Suddenly Dr. Newsome was behind me, his rigid cock pressed into the crack of my ass as his hands gripped my upper thighs, pulling our bodies closely together. His long fingers reached down into my crotch on both sides of my burning pussy. Then one of them began exploring my crack, stroking back and forth through my slippery cunt a few times, then lightly caressing my fiery clitoris. I pushed back against him and ground my ass against the delicious hardness of that penis of his.
Up on the improvised altar in the spotlight, Pike had now drenched his offering's open pussy with the anointing chocolate syrup. He moved the falling stream from there to create a downward trail along one inner thigh, then the other, to the knees. When that was finished. Pike abruptly gave the can a toss; someone in the shadows beyond must have caught it because no sound of its clattering impact upon the patio surface arose to mar the spell of the chanting.
In the spotlight, Pike suddenly descended from the altar and circled it once while the tempo of the chant and clapping became even more feverishly excited. Then he turned again to the chocolate covered sacrifice, moved close and bowed his handsome head over the left knee. His caressing lips touched her inner thigh just above that knee. The chant and clapping abruptly stopped. Through the following silence came the magnified sound of a passionate gasp from Pike's mother.
As he kissed his way upward, licking her cop perish skin clean of chocolate as he went, she began moaning and her hips started writhing in a rotating, circular movement. As his kissing lips and licking tongue neared her gooey, chocolate-covered cunt, her moaning became louder, even more exciting to listen to. She was thrusting harder, trying desperately to bring her cunt to that caressing mouth.
But he drew away instead. A low cry of despairing protest came from her as he moved around to the other side of the altar. There he began kissing and licking his way upward again along her right inner thigh. Her moans of excitement resumed, as did the writhing rotation of her hips.
I ground my ass again against the delightful hardness of Dr. Newsome's cock as it nestled in the valley between my buttocks. One of his long fingers suddenly dipped deep into my drooling pussy, bringing a little moan of my own out of me.
Then Pike had licked and kissed his way back almost within reach of his mother's pleading pussy which she was again thrusting toward him frantically. But again he refused her, suddenly moving upward to her chocolate covered right nipple. As his lips closed upon it, her hands clutched at his hair and she groaned. It drew out into an almost continuous moan as he licked and sucked the nipple and the breast from which it sprang entirely clean of chocolate syrup.
With her fingers still writhing in his hair, Pike quickly circled the head of the altar to reach the other chocolate-coated titty. He added something as he began sucking and licking the chocolate from it; he put his right hand over to her other breast and began gently pulling and squeezing the nipple with his strong fingers. Her hips began rotating faster and thrusting more passionately. Her continuous moaning grew louder.
Dr. Newsome had two long fingers in my steaming pussy now and each time they stroked in and out of me, his thumb stroked my burning clitoris. I pushed my ass back against him harder with another grinding movement. I was beginning to feel so hot I didn't know how much longer I could stand it. I'd seen sex shows at the orgies we high school kids in the Beverly Hills-Hollywood area frequently throw whenever the parents of one of the kids goes out of town making a safe house available. But something about this show was steaming me as I'd never been steamed before; maybe it was because somewhere in the back of my mind I was always aware that this was a mother and her own gorgeous teenage son we were watching. I don't know, but regardless, it was the bitchenest sex show I'd ever watched.
Then the second nipple and breast had lost their chocolate covering; caressing fingers replaced his mouth. His lips and tongue began licking and kissing along the zig-zag trail toward her navel.
I reached back with one hand, found Dr. Newsome's balls and began fingering them caressingly. He humped against me approvingly and his fingers began fucking my fiery cunt a little faster. Pike reached the pool of chocolate filling the basin formed by his mother's navel; he sucked at it, making a slurping sound like that made sometimes by a penis as it is drawn from the slippery glove of a tight cunt. His mother gasped as if he'd just shoved his luscious, big, stiff dick to its hilt in her. I ground my ass against Dr. Newsome's big hard again. His lips were at my ear, his breath feeling feverishly hot against my cheek.
Now Pike was licking his way across the golden plain of his mother's tanned lower belly. I felt my own belly muscles gathering into knots exactly as if that sensational tongue of Pike's was on my belly and heading for my cunt. The orgies I'd participated in with other school kids never had been in the same galaxy with this one for excitement. I felt so filled with anticipation and sexual pressures there was no room for breath.
Then I was holding my breath; Pike had suddenly moved around between his mother's widespread legs. He began hungrily licking the last of the chocolate syrup from her inner thighs up where they merged into one just below her pussy. She started to close her legs, obviously hoping to get a grip on his head and hold him there.
But again Pike was moving, darting away before her closing thighs could catch him. He bounded back up atop the improvised altar to land with knees astraddle his mother's head. He bent forward above her, bringing his mouth back to the two valleys that separated her upper thighs from the curly forest that hid her pussy, now that her legs were again partly closed. But the instant his lips touched her down there, her legs spread open wide again and her eyes popped open too.
Then she seemed to forget what his mouth was doing to her passionately writhing lower body; instead she stared adoringly at Pike's rigid penis and balls, hanging right above her face. One of her hands came up, closed caressingly upon her son's cock, then fondly stroked the balls below it.
Now Pike finally brought his mouth to the pussy-pie he'd been saving for dessert. His tongue licked into that chocolate-coated honey-box. A strangled scream came from his mother. Then she suddenly stuffed Pike's stiff cock into her mouth, as if to stifle her cry. It may have been my imagination, but I thought I heard a muffled groan come from Pike. I couldn't swear to it; after all, his face was buried between his mother's legs, her legs now locked together around his head, as he lapped ravenously at her chocolate-coated cunt, eating her pussy like he'd been starving. She suddenly broke the lock her legs had around his head, her heels hitting the rubber mattress, frantic to get purchase. Then her hips began bucking furiously, driving her burning cunt against Pike's ravenous mouth with desperate thrusts. Despite Pike's big lollypop cock in her mouth, his mother began uttering moans and groans almost continuously as she sucked that cock of his greedily.
The wild excitement created in me by just watching Pike and his mother combined with the fantastically good sensations his father's fingers were creating as he finger-fucked me had me teetering on the brink of orgasm. Just in the nick of time to stall it off a little longer, to distract me enough momentarily to allow my passion to cool slightly, Pike jerked his cock from his mother's moaning mouth. As he did, his head came up from between her legs.
In a flash, Pike was on his knees between his mother's legs. He draped her legs over his shoulders. He gripped her hips and lifted her lower body in his hands. He shoved his proud cock into her feverish, hungry cunt, driving it into her to the roots.
Pike's mother screamed, a strangled sound in which anguish and pure ecstasy were mingled. He began hammering his big nail into her quivering belly, hammering it home again and again and again. A continuous cry of excruciating ecstasy raised from her lips, though they were twisted in a grimace as if she was enduring sheer anguish.
Her scream went higher abruptly as she went blasting off into soaring orgasm. Wild! I had a cargo of excruciatingly good sexual pressure built high within me and about ready to set off earthquakes and moon rockets, and that scream from Pike's mother almost triggered it. But the longer you hold off that final explosion, experience had taught me, the more mind-blowing it is when you're finally unable to control it any longer. I wasn't quite ready to let it rip.
I twisted myself abruptly and jerked away from Dr. Newsome's caressing hands. He yelled something at me in surprise but I didn't wait around to listen. It felt so bitching groovy, keeping my sexual steam pressure teetering right there just a gasp short of blast-off. But I had to do something quick to cool it just a little or it was going to be too damned late. I sprinted for the pool. A long, flying dive sent me knifing cleanly into the water. The heated water felt cold as it closed around me, my sensation-charged body was so hot from the supersonic vibes of sexual excitement filling me. As I went gliding toward the bottom, I had a strong hunch that Dr. Newsome was not far behind me.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I broke surface, gasping for breath, and saw the far edge of the pool almost within reach ahead. I raised an arm for a stroke that might have taken me there. Before I could complete it, however, arms suddenly wrapped around my legs below the surface. What really stopped me, though, almost paralyzing me, was the mouth that at the same instant was pressed against my tingling pussy to send a hot tongue licking deep into my quivering cunt.
It was a mind-blower! The state I was in, that particular tongue in my cunt probably would have triggered me even in the most ordinary surroundings. But there in that pool with Pike's father licking his tongue into my cunt the way he was down there under the water, I went off like something that would make a Polaris missile look like a firecracker.
I have no memory of it, but I guess I did manage to grab the edge of the pool because when I finally did splash down again I found myself clinging there. I have no memory of anything else, either, but I guess I locked my legs around Dr. Newsome's head like I never intended to let him get his face out of my pussy again. I still had him pinned there with his mouth plastered against my cunt when I began thinking again; he had just about quit struggling, I just about had him completely drowned.
When I realized what I'd done, I think I'd have fainted if I hadn't suddenly been so scared. I screamed, "Help! For Godsake, help, somebody! Dr. Newsome's drowning! Please help!" I don't know how many good screws or cock suckings or pussy eatings that shout turned into disaster. At the time, I didn't even think about that. I wouldn't have given a damn if I had; I'd still have screamed. Regardless of how good an interrupted lay may be, there'll always be another one just as good possible, and possibly one even better. But there are no second chances, much less twentieth or two hundredth ones, when it's a flickering spark of life that's at stake. And by the time we got Dr. Newsome out of that swimming pool, a flickering spark was the very most he had Pike went to work getting the water out of his dad. Then Frank Kennedy and Dr. Martin began mouth-to-mouth work, fighting to get the breath of life back into him in place of the water. Pike's dad was so long responding to their efforts that I began feeling a cold fear that he was gone. But the fire finally flared up within him again suddenly. He spent a few minutes coughing up some of the water Pike hadn't dared take time to get out. Within a few minutes after that Dr. New-some seemed to have made a complete recovery. To prove it, more than likely, he grabbed his cock in one hand, a cock miraculously hard again, and waved it as he yelled, "We've got unfinished business, Tish, baby! Come here and let's get something straight between us!"
To say I was amazed is putting it mildly. I frankly couldn't believe my ears. So I was a little slow responding. No, what I really was would much more accurately be described as way, way too slow. Because before I even got started, Pike's sister BeBe had rushed to her father, bowled him over flat on his back and straddled him as she yelled. "You and me're going to get something straight between us, Daddy! This is my turn, and to hell with any unfinished business with anyone else! It can wait! Understand?"
By then she had one hand down between their bellies, gripping her father's cock to steady her aim; she thrust downward with her hips and drove his shaft into her cunt so deep their bellies slapped together before he had a chance to utter a single word of protest. If there ever was any inclination in him to protest, he obviously forgot it once BeBe's pussy got its grip on his root.
BeBe mussed his hair lovingly with the hand that an instant before had been aiming his cock. Then she swung her shoulders, making her tits brush back and forth across her father's lips invitingly. He caught them in his hands and sucked her pink nipples into his mouth together. She began a slow but steady series of retreats and thrusts with her firm hips, riding her father gently.
BeBe's head went down over his to nibble one of his ears affectionately for a moment. Then she began riding him harder, the tempo of her thrusts becoming faster as her thrusts became harder. Obviously a growing tide of sensation was beginning to swell within her. Little cries and moans started coming out of her. Finally she was laboring over her father frantically, her breath coming in strangled gasps, every muscle in her pretty face now drawn and twisted with tension. She began hammering their bellies together again and again and again in an increasing frenzy. Then a high, long, wavering scream came out of BeBe. I knew she was coming.
And suddenly I realized I was again not far away from being hot enough, excited enough, to explode in orgasm. It had been erotic as all hell, watching her screw her own father so freely, so totally unaware of anyone who might be watching, as if screwing her own father was the most natural and the most delightful experience in the world. I found myself wondering what it might be like to screw my own father? Somehow just the thought of such an adventure struck me as wildly exciting. Because even if he was my own father, I'd always felt more than a little gratified and proud about what a handsome and thoroughly attractive man my father was. If I'd even touched myself just then as an electrifying fantasy of me screwing my father like I'd just seen BeBe screw hers flashed across my mind's eye... I'd have come.
Afterward, I couldn't forget it. The idea tantalized me.
CHAPTER TWENTY
I was Pike's date at a Newsome family orgy just about every two weeks for several months after that first one. The following orgies, fortunately, were unmarred by anything like Dr. Newsome's near-drowning between my locked legs to make them especially memorable. Something I won't forget did happen during the second one, come to think of it.
That was when Frank Kennedy got around to me. It was amazing, considering how massive the rest of his body was, how small his penis was. He told me that as a high school kid he'd realized that because of his lack of size in the cock department, if he tried screwing a girl in the regular way just like any other guy would, he'd come off seeming like nothing at all to her.
So he began selling girls on the idea that he had the perfect equipment for introducing them to the terrific but unfamiliar new sensations of being fucked in the asshole. He claimed he'd never yet known a girl who'd been daring enough to try it once who didn't wind up becoming an addict.
But I told him I knew Pike didn't go for the idea of asshole fucking at all, so even if the idea fascinated me, which it didn't, I wouldn't risk turning Pike off by trying it where there was any chance of him finding out. Big-hearted, little-dicked Frank offered to meet me elsewhere secretly.
When I vetoed that proposal, he offered to arm me with a secret weapon, according to him, which I could use to change Pike's mind on the subject of anal intercourse and of anal areas as a source of groovy and different sensations. Frank claimed that if when a woman was sucking her favorite man's cock, she would slip a well-lubricated finger into his asshole and finger-fuck it while she sucked, she could make any mortal man alive her slave for life.
It sounded just wild enough to possibly work, but I wasn't about to do any such experimenting on Pike. But just so I wouldn't appear prudish, as well as to keep Frank from feeling rejected because I wouldn't let him fuck me in the asshole, I offered to try the finger technique out on him.
Well, what happened then wasn't quite as memorable as Dr. Newsome's near-drowning, of course, but the way I turned Frank Kennedy on was something extraordinary, even at an orgy. I can very truthfully say that I've never, before or since, seen a man more nearly go completely ape while getting off his nuts than Frank did. You think you've heard women do some screaming during orgasm, you should have heard him the way he screamed with his little penis in my mouth and my finger up his asshole as far as it could go!
What surprised me just as much was how perfectly clean my finger came out of his asshole. Of course, later I learned that Frank enjoyed getting his wad off that way so much that he carried an enema syringe with him constantly, like some women carry a douche-bag. Just before any prospective sexual action, Frank habitually gave his lower bowel such a thorough flushing out that a finger came out of it as clean as a whistle, as the cliche goes, and smelling of only the lilac water he always used for his final rinse.
But what other man is going to ever show a girl that kind of consideration in return for getting his asshole reamed by her finger? Damned few, unless I'm badly mistaken So I've never carried my experimentation with the technique any farther. I'm still inclined to think that just happened to be Frank Kennedy's personal thing for special sexual kicks.
The thing that kept bugging me as probably being my personal thing for special sexual kicks was the tantalizing fantasy about seducing my father. The more times I saw one of Pike's sisters balling their father and always acting like she was near blowing her minds from some kind of special goodness that particular coupling alone seemed to give her, the more obsessed I became with the desire to try it too. It finally got so I didn't seem to ever spend much time thinking about anything else. Even when I did, that tantalizing fantasy was never more than the flick of an eyelid away. "Sweet Daddy, how I want your strong, hard body!" got to be sort of a by-word with me, a refrain that played through my mind a hundred times for every time I spoke it aloud to myself. "Sweet Daddy, how I do want your strong, hard cock!" The lure of that forbidden fruit became a fever in me. It finally got so that my cunt was in a continual state of slippery excitement, hungry with anticipation of the fantastic feel of Daddy's hardness being thrust into it.
Months had passed, but I was still Pike's one and only, outside his family. But Pike never dreamed how I was cheating on him; it got so I hardly ever was aware of Pike fucking me as Pike. Instead, every time Pike was in me, I fantasized Pike into becoming my Daddy. And the orgasms that gave me were really something else. Pike got real proud of himself, about the way he turned me on, about me frequently firing off on a dozen orgasms one right after another without any fresh buildup needed between. He'd have been completely crushed if he'd ever even suspected the truth of the matter. So I went to special pains to make certain he never would suspect; just in case I slipped up and called him "Sweet Daddy!" sometime while I was out of my mind on a trip, I began calling Pike, "My sweet daddy," as my special pet name for him. Pike seemed to really dig it. Which was fortunate. It sure relieved me of a lot of tension when I was screwing him, eliminating my previous worry about a possible slip.
Spring vacation finally came. Our last spring vacation from high school. Graduation was within sight at last, only a matter of a few more weeks away.
But I'd been looking forward more to spring vacation than I was to graduation, even. Because ever since Christmas my mother had been making plans to fly to Chicago for a week during spring vacation to visit her mother-my grandmother. Why she felt her presence was needed less while I wasn't in school during spring vacation than it was when I was attending classes, I don't understand to this day. I really didn't care. I was just thankful for the opportunity she was going to give me to be alone in the house with Daddy for seven whole nights.
Of course I didn't know what in hell I was going to do in order to take advantage of the opportunity. I died a thousand deaths visualizing what might happen when I tried to make myself available to Daddy to take mother's place in his bed during her absence.
But regardless of the risks, real or only imaginary, I had to make my try. Long before mother's plane grew small and disappeared into the eastern sky on its way to Chicago, I'd been running a constant fever for days that only the sweet love juice geysering out of my Daddy's hard cock in the depths of my cunt could quench. I simply had to have him.
So the very first evening after mother's departure, after he'd gotten her call from grandma's house in Chicago putting his mind at ease about her safe arrival there, I began encouraging him to drink more than mother ever allowed him to, encouraging him to really relax and enjoy himself while he had the chance. He seemed to sort of like the idea of kicking over the traces, as he called it, an expression I suspect has rural origins but which is Greek to me. Whatever its special significance, Daddy obviously liked the idea of doing it. I wondered how he'd feel about it if he even had an inkling of just how far over he might wind up kicking the traces? I found out.
Without needing too much encouragement from me, sweet Daddy got stinko in very short order that very first evening. He usually has a good disposition, is always inclined to be more optimistic than otherwise, but he got even more light-hearted and happy the drunker he got. I got him upstairs to the master suite just before he passed out.
It was special fun undressing Daddy. I'd seen him in mini shorts and in wet swim trunks, but I couldn't remember ever having seen him completely naked. Especially I couldn't remember ever having seen his naked penis.
I discovered that Daddy had a real beauty. Pike's was about the nicest cock I'd ever seen, but Daddy's was even nicer. Somehow I felt glad about finding that was the case. It seemed to somehow confirm my expectations that however great sex had ever been with Pike or any other male, it would prove to have a special greatness with sweet Daddy.
So I began caressing Daddy's limp penis. First I just stroked it lightly with my fingers. But that didn't seem to create any response.
So I began fondling his balls while I kissed and sucked his cock, nursing at it gently, licking the sensitive underside and all around the head of it with my tongue, It responded a little bit to that, but still didn't show nearly enough interest in coming to attention to do my hungry pussy any good.
I remember saying that after the one experiment with Frank Kennedy, I'd never done anything further about making an investigation of his claims about the magic that's possible from sticking a finger up a man's asshole while sucking his cock, Now I'll have to admit there was one other time when I tried it. You've no doubt guessed when it was.
Yes. I was ready to try anything to get Daddy's cock hard enough to get into my drooling pussy, even the prospect of getting my finger smeared with his shit didn't cool me; I just put a box of Kleenex within easy reach.
I coated a finger with some vaginal jelly I found in mother's drawer, then coated the outer surfaces of Daddy's asshole with more of the same, That made everything nice and slippery. I was able to ease my finger into Daddy with no trouble all.
The rest was simple. As I started thrusting in and out of Daddy's rectum with my slippery finger, I went back to licking and sucking at his partly erect penis. Almost immediately he began moaning and mumbling in his drunken sleep, obviously feeling much more sensation than he had felt from just having his cock sucked.
Within not much more than a minute I'd produced proof positive of the heightened sensations the technique was giving Daddy; he had a beautiful big hard on. Just the sight of it made my cunt burn and quiver.
But before I could get Daddy's beautifully hard cock in me, I had to get him further back on the bed. He'd passed out with his back and shoulders on the bed and his rump and legs hanging off the edge. In that position it was just about impossible for me to mount him.
So I started trying to drag him across the bed further. Then I had an inspiration; instead of fucking him there on his own bed, my role as the aggressor would be less obvious if he awakened to find himself with me in my bed. So instead of dragging him further onto his bed, I dragged him off the bed onto a blanket I spread on the floor. Then I struggled and strained and worked until I got Daddy dragged into my room on the blanket.
While I was struggling to get him up off the floor onto my bed, I got the scare of my life; he seemed suddenly to be waking up! He straightened, bringing himself up off the floor, as he mumbled something. I was ready to die right then and there. I thought he'd really awakened, had guessed what I'd been up to, and was going to walk right out of there.
Instead, an instant after he got his feet under him, Daddy began weaving unsteadily before he even took a step. I gave him a little push; he flopped over backward sprawling across my bed on his back.
I felt like yelling in triumph. Just a little lifting and only a bit of pulling and hauling was necessary to get him into a normal position upon my bed. Surprisingly enough, even after all of that, Daddy's beautiful penis was still hard, exactly as if he was aware, even if Daddy wasn't, of the treat I intended to help him enjoy. I kissed his sensitive tip, then lightly stroked his whole length a couple of times with my fingers, just to confirm the fact that he was as hard as he looked.
Then I got astraddle Daddy, at long last about to enjoy the treat I'd been dreaming about day and night for months. My only regret was that Daddy couldn't be fully conscious this first time so he could suck my tits and give me the multiplied sensation that created. But I was too eager for this experience to demand perfect circumstances.
I guided Daddy's hard cock into my feverish cunt and sat down hard upon it with no preliminaries, His penis actually wasn't exceptionally thick or long. At least it hadn't looked to be or felt unusually massive in my mouth. But as it went driving up into me, I got the wildest sensation like it was going to split me wide open, like if I didn't back off the head of it was going to be driven right through the top of my skull. Talk about a sensation! The really wild thing is how indescribably good it felt.
Just that one hard thrust of my Daddy's beautiful cock into me and I went blasting off on the test orgasmic trip I'd ever taken. Everything except the wild ocean of sensation I was swimming in faded and became unreal, nonexistent. Faintly I felt myself bobbing up and down, driving Daddy's joystick in and out of me. Distantly I heard someone yelling, then realized it was me. It seemed to sound like I was being killed, but I didn't worry about that; I knew if I was dying I was dying happy.
"But for someone who was supposedly dying, I was strangely active. I kept right on bouncing up and down steadily on Daddy's hard cock, making it plunge back and forth through my tingling vaginal sheath, like a yo-yo rising and falling upon its string. I no more than came down from one orgasm than I blasted off even harder on another, each trip seeming to take me farther and farther out into space. It was something like a surrealistic dream must be: weird, wild, terrific, and apparently endless.
Then I got the biggest thrill yet. Suddenly I seemed to feel Daddy's hard cock swelling even more deep within me. He too was responding. He was building a head of sexual steam. He was going to come!
Nothing else I'd ever experienced quite equaled it. Not even the whirlwinds of sensation I was feeling the night I locked my legs around Dr. Newsome's head and almost drowned him. I thought I was going to pass out, but I hung on the tag-ends of my consciousness desperately, determined to enjoy this experience to the fullest.
Then Daddy's cock exploded, beginning to geyser his love juices, spraying their molten hotness all over my sensitive inner surfaces. I'd never felt such a typhoon of sensation as that sent roaring through me by the feeling of Daddy coming there deep within me. It seemed to go on and on and on. I had one orgasm on top of another, my orgasms seeming to have orgasms. In all my experience, there never had been anything that came even close to this. I'd wondered why all of Pike's sisters seemed to enjoy fucking their father so much whenever they could grab a chance at the various family orgies I'd attended; now I knew. The forbidden fruit gave those who dared taste it a unique and matchless sweetness.
I finally collapsed upon Daddy in exhaustion. My last conscious thought was that I could not remain where I was astride Daddy. All my bones seemed to have turned into jelly, but I forced my limp body to move and to turn Daddy with me. We came to rest on our sides, still facing each other; in fact if the information my satiated cunt was sending up could be believed, despite his explosive ejaculation, Daddy's penis was still as rigid as ever and we were still firmly coupled. I drifted off smiling, sinking happily into the oblivion of deep sleep.
I was awakened by Daddy yelling right in my ear, "Great God, what have I done?"
Before my eyes popped open, my cunt was awake. Within its grip, I was amazed to find, still remained the firm hardness of Daddy's unbowed penis. I felt him start trying to move himself away from me, but before he managed to withdraw that sweet rod of his from my honey pot, I clamped down upon it with the muscles of my vaginal sheath. The slipperiness sexual excitement usually created upon my inner surfaces was greatly diminished; I was able to hold him fast.
I very nearly didn't have the heart to hold him prisoner within me when Daddy sobbed, "We're locked together! I played the drunken beast; forced my lustful way into my own sweet daughter's innocent, tender body, and now it's locked upon me. I'll have to call a doctor. There's no way to hide my disgrace."
He was so corny I'd have laughed if I hadn't felt so sorry for him. I opened my eyes, smiled at him and said, "Don't worry, sweet Daddy. I won't tell anybody. It'll be just our secret, yours and mine."
"You poor, innocent, trusting baby," Daddy said. "You don't seem to even realize what I've done to you!"
"Of course I do, Daddy, honey," I told him. "You've put your wonderful magic wand into me and transformed me into a full-grown woman, like mother. Ill always be forever grateful to you for being so especially good to me."
"Good to you?" he echoed wonderingly.
"I should say so," I exclaimed. "You made it feel so very good while your wand was transforming me into a real woman. I'd like nothing in the world as much as if you'd make it good for me again that way."
"You don't seem to realize, darling, you're so sweet and tiny, I'm stuck inside you," Daddy told me. "I've got to call a doctor to get us apart."
"Why not see if we can't do something ourselves, first?" I suggested. "You can always call the doctor if we fail."
"I have heard of things like this happening," Daddy said, "but I haven't the foggiest idea what to do except to call a doctor."
"Try sucking and nibbling my titties a little," I suggested. "Girls at school say that makes them get slippery inside with love juices. That ought to help, hadn't it?"
"It couldn't hurt anything," Daddy admitted rather grudgingly.
"Why not roll over on your back with me on top of you where you can get at my titties the easiest?" I suggested.
So Daddy turned us back to the position we'd been in when I rode him until I passed out from exhaustion. I pressed my tits down against his mouth; when his sweet lips closed upon my nipples I almost came again right then and there.
I began humping up and down against Daddy, but I kept that death-grip I had on his hard penis with my inner muscles until I felt certain it had started feeling terrific enough to him so he'd surely not want to stop. When I finally released my grip on him and let his sweet penis begin making long strokes in and out of me, Daddy was panting and gasping so much he didn't seem to notice the change.
We spent the whole morning fucking and Daddy came half a dozen times before his penis finally lost its charge of excitement and at long last wilted. But by then I felt confident he'd accepted the new situation and was going to be happy to make the most of it.
When his cock finally sagged, however, his spirits started sagging too not long after. He began talking again about how guilty he felt. Nothing I could think of to say was enough to convince him he hadn't wronged me in some terrible way. I realized I had a big problem and needed help.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Dr. Newsome himself opened the door when Daddy rang the bell for us. He had insisted I persuade Daddy to come when I phoned and told him what had happened and that Daddy was talking about suicide being perhaps the only answer to all the guilt he felt.
Dr. Newsome led us into the library. I was surprised to find BeBe waiting there; I'd expected that perhaps Pike would join us. But within moments I began to realize that Pike's presence would have been only a handicap to the tactics Professor Newsome had decided on for this teaching session.
After BeBe had been introduced to Daddy, we all sat down on sofas arranged on either side of a big coffee table before the fireplace. I sat beside Daddy and BeBe sat beside her father.
Dr. Newsome started with, "You may wonder, Mr. Lees, why I've asked my daughter to join us. You may feel her presence will only make it more difficult for you to talk about the situation that's so deeply troubling you."
"Yes, I do, " Daddy admitted. "Then I'll have to ask you just to trust my judgment that BeBe's presence here will be a great help to you, not a hindrance," Dr. Newsome told Daddy.
"In the first place, let's remember that what you talk about is really of very little importance. What you feel is the important thing. And BeBe will be vitally important in helping you change some of the things you're feeling. That's what you really would like to do, isn't it?" Daddy nodded slowly. "I guess so."
"Do you feel your daughter, Tish, is more physically attractive than my daughter, BeBe?" Dr. Newsome asked, surprising Daddy.
Daddy gave him a startled look, then looked at BeBe and blinked his eyes as if only then seeing her for the first time. His eyes took in the proudly jutting lines of BeBe's generously large breasts which were even larger than mine if there was any difference in our sizes. Then Daddy's eyes slipped down to the very attractive exposure of bare leg extending invitingly from under BeBe's stylish mini-skirt.
Almost guiltily Daddy glanced back up to meet Dr. Newsome's eyes. He shook his head, murmuring, "I'd say your daughter and my Tish are about equally attractive."
"Thank you," BeBe said before her father could pond. "You're very sweet to say that because my brother thinks Tish is far more attractive than I am. But I appreciate your saying it even more because you're an especially attractive man, yourself. So your opinion really means something to me."
I could see Daddy straighten, visibly. The tension in the lines of his face and in his eyes eased some. He even gave BeBe a faint smile. He liked what she had said. But he said, "You might not think so highly of my opinion if you know more about me... things I've done." The tension began coming back and he started to slowly sag again.
Dr. Newsome suggested, "Why don't you trade places with Tish, BeBe, and go sit by Mr. Lees. Perhaps he'll be able to believe you really are closer to him in spirit if you're first closer in the flesh."
So BeBe and I changed places and I sat down close to Dr. Newsome while BeBe seated herself beside Daddy. I could see him having to struggle to keep his eyes from lowering to study the pleasing view offered by her long, shapely legs.
"You feel BeBe is an attractive female, did you say?" Dr. Newsome asked.
Daddy nodded. "Exceptionally attractive."
"Does feeling that way about BeBe make you fell guilty?"
Daddy shook his head, then murmured, "I guess I'd be dead and ready to be buried if I didn't feel her attractiveness."
BeBe suddenly put a hand on one of Daddy's, lifted it and brought it to her naked thigh. She started rubbing it caressingly up and down the inside of her lovely leg. For an instant Daddy's eyes looked startled, then fearful as he shot a glance at Dr. Newsome to see if he was aware of what apparent liberties he was taking with Dr. Newsome's daughter.
But Dr. Newsome very unmistakably did see, yet he was nodding and smiling approvingly. He said, "She feels very good to a man's hand, doesn't she?"
"Yes," Daddy mumbled, looking down at the floor, "she sure does."
"Does doing that make you feel guilty?" Dr. Newsome asked. Before Daddy could respond, he went on, "It shouldn't, you know. She invited you to do it. Right? And it's just as obvious that she's enjoying the touch of your hand as much or more than you're enjoying touching her leg. Right? Because she feels you're an attractive man. She likes you. She likes being touched by you because you're so masculine. And you like touching her... you like to caress her... because she's so feminine... Don't you?"
Daddy nodded. His eyes came up to meet Dr. Newsome's again. "I like it... Very much," he admitted.
"You'd have to be sick if you didn't, wouldn't you? You're a healthy man, full of the juice of life, and it's natural and normal and right for you to feel excited by an attractive female. It's natural and normal and healthy and right. As long as she's enjoying whatever you do with her, it's right. There's no sane or logical reason to feel guilty about it then. Right?"
Slowly Daddy nodded, then admitted, "That seems... right."
"BeBe, is there anything else you'd like to have Mr. Lees do?" Dr. Newsome asked.
"Yes," BeBe murmured, rolling her big eyes at Daddy. "I'd like for him to let me call him what his friends call him."
Hurriedly, a little awkwardly, Daddy said, "David!" Then he added with a nervous smile, "Dave is even better."
"You have great hands, Dave," BeBe told Daddy in a sexy whisper. "The feel of your hands on my body is very pleasant, very exciting. I'd really enjoy having your hands caress more of me. Is there any more of me you'd enjoy caressing, Dave?"
Like something drawn by a magnet, Daddy's eyes went to the cleavage of BeBe's full breasts, revealed by her low-cut sweater. I'd been around the Newsome household enough to know that Mrs. Newsome and the girls never wore bras. I knew Daddy saw the little thumb-like protrusion made by BeBe's excited nipple trying to press through the sweater material. He licked his lips nervously, if not a bit hungrily. He nodded and cleared his throat. Finally he managed one word: "Yes!"
Suddenly BeBe raised Daddy's hand from her naked thigh, brought it up under her sweater to one of her naked breasts there. Daddy's eyes widened and he swallowed hard. BeBe murmured, "Oh, your hand feels so good to me. Do I feel good to you?"
Daddy nodded mutely. But his body was making responses that were more emphatic; the material at the crotch of his trousers was stretched taut with the lump created by his hardened penis within them. Suddenly BeBe left his hand cupped around her breast to take care of itself. Both her hands were suddenly busy deftly unzipping Daddy's pants fly and unfastening his waistband. Then like a jack-in-the-box, Daddy's rigid penis sprang into full view out of his shorts. He stared down at it as if more amazed than anyone at the sight.
But BeBe's hand closed around it and gently began stroking up and down the hard shaft. She murmured, "Does that feel as good to you as your hand on my breast feels to me?"
Daddy just sat there bug-eyed.
Dr. Newsome said, "All my daughters have been taught that sex is just as natural for a human being as breathing. And just as necessary as eating good food or drinking pure water. She believes that if you enjoy whatever you're doing with her and she's enjoying it too, that it's no one else's business because it concerns only the two of you. Does that sound right to you?"
Just then BeBe bent her head and kissed the head of Daddy's rigid cock wetly. He gasped, then moaned as the head of his cock disappeared between BeBe's sexy, moist lips and she began sucking and licking at it hungrily. His moans were the only kind of answer Daddy had to Dr. Newsome's last question.
When she'd sucked Daddy's cock for a minute, BeBe suddenly raised her head from it and quickly straddled Daddy's lap as he sat there on the sofa. Her mini hiked up behind as she did it, revealing that she was completely bare-assed under it without a single sign of having had on panties. Expertly, before Daddy really realized what she was up to, BeBe sat down upon his rigid cock, sinking it upward into her hungry cunt. As he went into her hot lusciousness, Daddy's mouth dropped open, releasing another long, gasping moan.
Then BeBe raised her arms, skinning her sweater off over her head, leaving herself naked to the waist, her lovely tits jutting out eagerly toward Daddy's mouth. She murmured, "Suck them for me, like a dear, Sweetie. Your mouth will feel so delicious to them. You'd like making it feel delicious to me, wouldn't you, Davey?"
Almost like a sleepwalker, Daddy's hands came up, pressed BeBe's breasts together and brought them to his lips. He licked his lips once, then sucked her taut nipples into his mouth together. He began sucking at them greedily as BeBe started slowly raising and lowering herself on the stiff shaft Daddy had planted in her belly. Suddenly I felt Dr. Newsome's hand on my inner thigh. That broke the spell the sight of Daddy fucking BeBe right there in the Newsome library in front of me had cast over me. I glanced at him in surprise.
"Time for our part of this therapy," Dr. New-some said. "Why don't we get rid of all our clothing before we start? That'll make things much more simple later."
I didn't know what on earth he meant, but followed his example when he began quickly removing his clothing. Moments later we were both naked when he went to the other sofa and sat down as near as possible to Daddy and BeBe without getting in the way of their action as they fucked there. Then he gestured for me to join him. When I did, he indicated for me to straddle him just as BeBe had straddled Daddy. An instant later his big, luscious, hard cock was buried to its roots in my steaming cunt. I began bouncing up and down upon it eagerly as he started sucking my burning tits.
But after a moment he took his mouth away from my tits, then one hand, too. He reached over and gripped Daddy's arm with his hand and shook it. Daddy's head jerked around, a startled look in his eyes. But it was nothing compared to how startled he looked when he saw me and Dr. Newsome there beside him naked as natives and coupled up exactly like he and BeBe were.
"Does your daughter look to you like she's enjoying what she's doing with me?" Dr. Newsome asked.
Daddy nodded slowly, still wide-eyed. He looked a little bewildered, like he couldn't really believe this was actually happening, but feeling powerless to do anything about it if it really was.
"Are you enjoying what you've been doing to my daughter?" Dr. Newsome asked. Again Daddy nodded.
"I sure have been enjoying what you've been doing to me, you big, strong, sweet he-man you!" BeBe bubbled, then planted a wet kiss on Daddy's lips, then thrust her hot tongue through his lips and deep into his mouth. He stiffened slightly, as if about to protest, his eyes again wide and staring in amazement. BeBe began bouncing up and down again on that stiff cock of Daddy's buried in her feverish cunt; all the resistance or protest that had reared up in him momentarily vanished as if evaporated by the heat of his sexual sensation.
"Do you know that if we just keep on doing what, we have been doing, both of us and both of these girls are going to come?" Dr. Newsome asked.
Daddy nodded, his mouth still locked with BeBe's.
"The way BeBe is obviously enjoying her coupling with you, would you feel guilty if you made her come?"
Daddy shook his head without hesitation.
"Would you feel guilty if you came inside BeBe while she's coming?"
Daddy hesitated just an instant, then shook his head again.
"Do you think I should feel guilty if I give Tish the great pleasure of coming, and if I come inside of her while she comes?" Dr. Newsome persisted.
BeBe suddenly broke the French kiss with Daddy, leaning back away from him, watching him expectantly. When he realized his mouth was free, Daddy said slowly, "I guess I'd have no right to expect that kind of feeling from you. Tish obviously is enjoying what she's doing with you as much or maybe more than you are. She doesn't act like it's hurting her, sure. Just like BeBe seems to be thoroughly enjoying what I've been doing with her."
"Good!" Dr. Newsome exclaimed approvingly. "Now we're getting somewhere. "You feel Tish is enjoying herself. You feel BeBe is enjoying herself. You feel neither girl is being hurt. You feel if the girls both are enjoying what they're doing and you and I both are enjoying what we're doing with them, it must be right and good. And if it's right and good, it would be stupid and superstitious to let your head override your feelings and tell you it is a bad thing you're doing and something you should feel guilty about. Your feelings know more about what's really right and what's really wrong than your head ever does. Isn't that a fact, if you just think about it?"
Daddy frowned a moment, obviously trying to think about that. Finally he nodded slowly, admitting, "It seems like that's right. I know a lot of things in our heads are phony superstitions, phony social conditioning. Usually our deep down feelings about any given thing-" He broke off. Dr. Newsome quickly said, "All right, then. Start trusting your feelings. You feel if BeBe enjoys coming with you and Tish enjoys coming with me, it's been a good experience for both girls and for both of us. Right?"
BeBe gave Daddy a little thrust and shook her tits back and forth a couple of times before his face. He licked his lips, his eyes fascinated for a moment by her luscious nipples. Finally he remembered the question Dr. Newsome had just asked. Quickly Daddy nodded and said breathlessly, "Good for all of us, I guess. A human being needs sex, just like they need good food and pure water, to stay healthy."
"Exactly!" Dr. Newsome exclaimed approvingly. "Now, if you feel it's a good thing, for everyone when you and BeBe come together and Tish and I come together, do you feel there would be any real difference if all of us did the very same thing, only it was Tish and you who come together and BeBe and me? We're paired differently, but exactly the same thing happens to all of us. If it's good for all of us when we're paired off one way, isn't it just as good for all of us when we're paired off the other way?"
Daddy looked miserable suddenly. He stared at Dr. Newsome a moment, then shook his head, admitting bleakly, "I just don't know. I've always been taught-" Dr. Newsome cut in sharply, "I don't give a damn what you've been taught! We're talking about how you feel! Do you feel there actually would be any difference? The same identical thing happens to all four people. The very same identical thing. So if you feel it's good and right when they're paired off one way, don't you feel it has to be just as good and just as right when they're paired off the other way? Forget all the shit you've been taught! Tell me honestly what your feelings tell you?"
Daddy was thoughtful for a moment. Finally he said, "I can't really feel there can actually be a bit of difference. If it's good and right for the girls one time, it ought to be just as good and right for them when exactly the same thing happens when they're paired off the other way."
"Let's test the theory," Dr. Newsome proposed. "Let's change partners and see if pairing off that way feels different in any way. See if it doesn't feel as good and right, somehow?"
Daddy's mouth dropped open, his eyes widened again. He just sat without moving a muscle while BeBe and I quickly changed places. I was trembling with supercharged excitement as I straddled Daddy's lap and sat down on his rigid penis, driving it up into my eager cunt in one long stroke that brought a little gasp out of Daddy and filled me with a tingling warning that just a few more strokes would have me teetering on the edge of orgasm. From the look on Daddy's face, I knew he was feeling just about as close as I was.
When you're that close to coming, it fills your whole body with a delicious kind of excitement that's better than any other sensation I've ever known. I risked bouncing up and down on Daddy's hard penis a couple of times more, then paused.
Dr. Newsome asked, "What do you say? Does being in Tish feel any less good than it felt being in BeBe?"
Daddy shook his head and murmured breathlessly, "Better, if anything."
"Do you honestly feel like there's anything less right about it feeling good with Tish than there was about it feeling good with BeBe?"
When Daddy didn't answer instantly, Dr. New-some persisted, "If you felt it must be good for Tish when I was making it good for her, how can the same thing be bad for her when it's you instead of me making it feel enjoyable for her? A hard penis is a hard penis and a woman's vagina doesn't give a damn what male body that penis is attached to if she's enjoying the feelings created by the penis. So as long as she's enjoying the penis, isn't it really stupid and superstitious to set up artificial requirements? If a woman receives pleasure from a certain penis that penis is feeling good to her and that penis is being good for her. So who that penis belongs to is unimportant. If she likes and enjoys the penis, the man it belongs to has to be someone she likes and enjoys too. Isn't that all that really matters if you listen to your deep feelings, not to your superficial superstitions?"
Still Daddy didn't have an instant answer.
Dr. Newsome said, "All right. Let's change partners again."
So BeBe and I again lifted our cunts away from one stiff cock and an instant later fitted it back snugly around another. As I settled back into place astraddle Dr. Newsome's lap, his hands came up and caught my breasts, pressing them together so he could get both nipples into his mouth at once. He began nursing at me steadily, licking his hot tongue around them and between them as he sucked.
I began pounding up and down, driving that delicious rod of his back and forth through my tingling vaginal sheath. It would have been more electrically exciting, I knew, if instead it had been Daddy's sweet cock stroking back and forth deep within me. But the mounting waves of sensation Dr. Newsome's strong cock was building steadily within me were terrific.
Suddenly he sucked a little harder on my nipples and pulled away, stretching them for a tingling instant. The added sensation sent me over the brink into wildly pulsating orgasm. I plunged up and down frantically, yelling as the involuntary spasms shook me.
As my orgasm began tapering off, I became aware of someone else yelling beside me. I glanced that way and saw BeBe riding Daddy hard as she yelled in the throes of orgasm. And Daddy's face was contorted as he too was struggling in the grip of a powerful ejaculation.
When all four of us had weathered the delightful storm, Dr. Newsome suggested BeBe and I demonstrate our skill at putting lead back into an empty pencil. I got the feeling that Daddy was amazed at the good results we two girls got with our mouths as we traded back and forth from one reviving penis to the other.
When both were fully recharged with excitement again, BeBe and I again made them disappear. But only for five or six strokes at the most, then we would switch again. There was a strange added excitement in switching from one penis to another, back and forth, again and again. But that time when all of us finally did trigger off into orgasm, Daddy's sweet cock was shoved to its very roots in my cunt and his explosion bathed the tingling inner surfaces of my pulsating belly with his lovely come juices.
When it finally ended, Daddy and I were both drenched with sweat from our prolonged exertion together. He sank back against the back of the sofa, panting. I stayed where I was, reluctant to have it end, waiting until Daddy's hardness wilted and slipped free of the embrace of my loving cunt.
Suddenly he stirred and said, "But Tish's mother will never accept this. I'll never in this world be able to make her understand, regardless of how right it really may be. She just wouldn't listen."
"Don't try to tell her," Dr. Newsome said quietly. "Often someone else can inspire a wife to open her mind as well as her body to him more easily than her husband can."
"What do you mean?" Daddy asked quickly.
"I mean, bring her up here for an intimate little get-acquainted evening or two or three, however long it takes me to seduce her and then reconstruct her thinking for you, pal." Dr. Newsome chuckled. "Dig?"
Daddy straightened with surprise, then demanded. "But what'll your wife-' "My wife may teach you a delightful new trick or two in the time it takes me to make a convert to our modern sex philosophy out of your wife," Dr. Newsome interrupted. "Just hang loose, my friend. Trust me to do everything that's necessary for your wife while you enjoy mine, and meantime, take the pleasures life offers you and don't worry."
* * *
That night I awakened with my cunt burning for the soothing feeling of a sweet, hard cock filling it. I was sleeping naked, like Pike's sisters told me they always slept, so there were no hampering clothes to bother getting rid of. I rolled out of bed and started tripping eagerly toward Daddy's bedroom. The thought went through me of how great it was to be free to go to him in the middle of the night or any other time I needed to and no other suitable partner was available to service my needs. It seemed so completely natural and right.
Daddy was sprawled upon the big king-sized bed. Still clinging to the familiar feeling of sleeping in pajamas. But he appeared to have been sleeping fitfully.
Carefully I loosened his pajama bottoms and eased them down. Cautiously I kissed and licked and gently sucked until his penis had raised up, proudly ready. Then I mounted him and drove that delicious hardness deep into my hungry cunt before he realized what had happened.
Daddy's eyes popped open and filled with a wild look of desperation when he saw me up there over him, beginning to ride him hard as I brushed my swinging tits back and forth across his mouth. He squawked, "Your mother'll catch us, Sweetheart! We can't keep on doing this! She's liable to walk in any minute and catch-"
"You've been having bad dreams, Sweetie," I interrupted. "We'll have three more nights before mom leaves grandma's. Now be a good lover man and start sucking my tits and stop-"
"But your mother'll never in a million years change enough to accept this kind of thing!" Daddy interrupted me shrilly. "We've got to stop it while we still can!... If we still can! If-Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!" he broke off in a long moan as I kept hammering his hard cock in and out of my feverish pussy and he began responding in spite of all his resolutions and good intentions.
"Stop worrying and suck my tits, Daddy!... Please?" I panted. "Leave mom to Dr. Newsome. He'll educate her. Trust him to open Mom up. He'll know exactly how to do it. He's one of our finest, most respected and successful professionals in higher education. He knows what he's doing all the time, Daddy. So just trust him to take care of mom and stop worrying so you can take care of me. Huh? Just stop worrying about anything but sucking my tits! Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-huh-uh-uh-uh! Sweet Daddy! Harder, deeper, faster! Oh, Daddy!! Daddy!!! Daddy!!! Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!!!"
