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 A Mother and Two Daughters : Lady Joyce Hamilton

   It was not till I saw her with her daughters in the supermarket that
Saturday morning that I thought of her sexually.  Till then she was just
the person who came in three mornings a week to clean the flat and do the
laundry, preferably when I was out: and I usually managed to arrange it so
I was out!  But her daughters (I assumed they were her children) were
really fantastic.  I was not usually into the very young in those days, but
these two would have tempted a saint.  She introduced them to me. 
Chantelle was a brunette with a Latin, sun-tanned complexion.  In her white
trainers and cotton socks, short grey, pleated skirt, and a white top tight
over her breasts she was an instant hard-on.  All long tanned legs,
slender, boyish-hips, tiny waist and pointy tits, and long, shining, black
hair to her shoulders.  Her sister, Ophelia, had her mother's blonde
colouring, and was if anything even sexier than her sister.  An inch or two
shorter and even more slender and perhaps a bit "boyish", but with a
peaches and cream complexion and shoulder length blonde hair.

   I wanted them!

   And it occurred to me the road to them was through the mother....

   A bit about myself.  That year I was newly separated from my first wife,
who had gone off with a lesbian professional tennis star to be her
'personal assistant'....well she always had given good head!  I had enough
of women for a bit, and was keeping myself to myself, finding sexual relief
with my dvd player, and just the occasional furtive gay episode in the
bushes at the park or in the "cottage" on the promenade.  I had not fucked
in six months, except for a brief bunk-up in the back of my RangeRover with
a transexual I picked up in a bar.  The visit to the clinic that followed
showed what I had caught was easily cured, thank goodness!

   So it was strange to be planning the seduction of my "cleaning lady".

   In the event Sally made it easy for me.  Monday morning I was still
home, and she commented that I seemed a better cook than most single men.
"You always seem to have proper meat, fish and vegetables in the fridge,
not pizzas,instant meals and that sort of rubbish."

   "I enjoy cooking, Sally.  And I am a good cook, though I say it myself.
Perhaps I should cook a dinner for you?"

   "I'd like that!"

   "How about saturday evening then?"

   And so it was arranged.

   A word about Sally.  If you think good-looking barmaid you have the type
fixed in your mind.  Mid-thirties, natural blonde, something 'hard' in the
face and especially the blue eyes.  Clearly she had been around a bit and
suffered a few knocks on the way, and somewhere she had managed two
beautiful daughters.  But she had a great figure: for work she favoured
very tight stone-washed jeans, and these showed off broad hips, a tight
rounded bum, flat belly and slender waist.  Her tits, usually under a tight
top would not have disgraced a fifties 'sweater-girl'.  She was a cheerful
girl and articulate.  All in all very bed-able, but not wed-able.

   "I'd like to dress up a bit if that's all right.  Don't get much chance
to nowadays."

   "Great.  I will too.  DJ and all."

   ............................................................

   It was a bit corny and over-the-top I guess, but I arranged things for
the traditional seduction scene.  Candle and red roses on the table set for
two: I have the dining alcove in the corner of the kitchen as I like to
entertain while I am actaully cooking!  But my kitchen is uncluttered,
spacious, and as well decorated as most dining rooms.  I had my usual
struggle with the black bow-tie (for years my wife had tied it for me, the
other thing she did well!).  I had even changed the bedsheets, crisp and
new.  I turned the central heating up a notch.
Seven o'clock came and precisely, on the dot, the doorbell rang, on time

as always with Sally.

   I took her coat and under the winter wear she was absolutely stunning: a
grey silk dress, flowing and loose, clung to her body leaving her legs bare
from mid- thigh down.  Her stockings (or tights?) shone glossy over
shapely, long legs and trim ankles in silver high-heeled shoes.  Her only
jewelry was a simple silver chain and cross, but she had been to the
hairdressers, and her hair was pulled up away from her shoulders in a
complicated but pretty style.

   "You look fantastic, Sally.  You said you liked to dress up, but you
look a million dollars."

   "Then we make a good couple, Max.  I love a man in a smart dinner
jacket."

   The meal went well, as I had kept it simple but with good ingredients.
Soup Bonne Femme to start with, because you never get that in restaurants
and it is almost a forgotten recipe outside France, venison steaks braised
in a green pepper sauce (a very decent bottle of claret), and finally the
piece de resistance, a souffle Grand Marnier.  I took this to the table
with a flourish and asked her to serve it before it sank and went sad,
while I opened the champagne.

   Conversation had been easy through the meal, but impersonal.  We
discovered we both had an interest in the cinema, and she was very well
informed and articulate.  She not only watched films, she thought about
them.  I was impressed: a pretty face and good figure is sexy in a woman,
but so is a good mind.  We stayed away from personal subjects, and the
question of our relationship with past partners and our intentions for
later in the evening, hovered in the background, unstated.

   But: she had come by car, her old Rover, and since she was drinking that
either meant a taxi or, perhaps, she had already decided to stay the
night....
As we ate the souffle, which was excellent though I say it myself, and
drank a couple of flutes of champagne, I approached the subject indirectly.

"Do you have to ring your daughters?"

   "No.  My friend Lucy is staying over with them tonight, and she's very
reliable.  No, no problems there."

   I collected the empty dishes and loaded them into the washer. 
Returning, I stood behind her chair, a hand on each lovely shoulder blade.
I leaned forward and kissed the back of her neck, where the finest of
blonde hairs made the lightest of fringes below the hairline proper.  I
could see a frisson pass through her body as my lips touched her.  She
turned her head to me inviting a kiss on the lips.  It was awkward leaning
over, but it was worth it when her tongue entered my mouth in a true
lover's kiss.  I had an arm round her to support myself, and my hand
inevitably found its way to her breast, decent under her silk dress, and I
could feel the lacy bra beneath, and, yes!  a nipple hardening as we
kissed.

   She spoke first.  "We're grown-ups, Max, and this has been a lovely
evening.  You're a great cook, and I think you might be a great lover
too..."

   "I can try, Sally..."

   "Let's go to your beautiful bedroom, then."

   ..................................................................

   The bedroom still showed the effects of my ex's taste, and was indeed
beautiful in a minimalist fashion.  The focus was the huge bed, a rather
risque modern picture of Mars and Venus (nudes), and the dressing table,
now emptied of all the lotions and perfumes that used to adorn it.

   Sally (still something of the house-maid there!) turned back the duvet
leaving the field of battle clear for us.  She was quicker undressing than
me, and under the dress and when she had removed her tights, her bra and
panties were tiny wisps of light blue lace and silk.  She looked fantastic
as she let down her hair to her shoulders and stood there, tanned skin and
blue silk, blue eyes.  She was about to undo her bra strap when I stopped
her.

   "Let me, Sally.  I love doing that." To be honest, I wanted to feel her
through those sexy little pretties before enjoying her naked....  I was
naked now, and my cock was standing as hard as it had in years, perhaps
ever.  I am lucky in my cock, which, even 'cut' as I am, is larger than
most men manage, both longer and broader.  Goes with my larger-than-most
physique I guess.  I'm also a real bear, hairy, even on my back and arse!

   "I had to wear tights as suspenders would have shown ugly through the
silk dress.  I know you all prefer stockings.  You men and lingerie!  I
sometimes think you are making love to the lingerie and not the woman!"

   "Hardly, when she is as lovely as you, Sally." Though there was some
truth in her comment I guess.

   We stood in front of the bed embracing, and I felt her hands combing
through the hair on my shoulders and kneading the muscles there.  I
unclasped her bra, an easy catch at the back.  My hands now on her bottom,
feeling it firm and rounded under those scanty little panties.  I slipped
my hand inside them covering her naked cheeks with my palms, and pushed
them down till they fell to her ankles.  She stepped out of them, and as we
kissed and fondled each other she raised her leg between mine till her
thigh touched my balls and cock.  I closed my thighs on it, gripping, and
realised she was rubbing her naked pussy against my thigh.  I reached down
and under her, and found her pussy wet....and hairless, shaven.  I felt
between the lips, my finger sliding in the juices of her arousal, found her
clit, and rubbed it as my tongue slipped into her mouth.

   "Now, Max."

   I looked down at her as she lay on the bed, legs wide open for me,
welcoming.  My eyes fixed on her shaven cunt, lips plumping and glistening
where I had caressed her a moment before, her clitoris peeping out pink
between the nearly-white lips.  And her tits standing even as she lay on
her bed, but most of all her clear blue eyes, glinting with excitement and
her smile.  She raised her arms, open too to welcome me, and I sank down
onto that pneumatic body.  I was worried a moment about my masculine weight
on her feminine frame, but need not have been concerned.

   "Now, Max.  Now!"

   Unlike any other woman I had bedded she did not want foreplay.  She
wanted to be fucked.  "Now!"

   My cock was like a steel rod, winged steel, and I felt her move between
us so it pressed fiercely against her crotch.  She moved again and I knew
it was now inside her cuntlips in the moistness I had fingered a minute or
two before, Another slight movement of her hips and my knob was in her,
warm, wet, gripped.  I pushed long and slow and my full length slipped up
her till our pubic bones rested together and we were as one.  Her legs
clasped round my waist and her arms round my back, mouth on mouth.  And we
fucked.

   I looked into her eyes, almost unreal in their glittering blueness, and
the smile on her face was that of La Gioconda in Leonardo's painting.  I
realised then the origin of that smile: the artist had fucked her, or
perhaps she had something in her cunt, some Asian love-balls perhaps,
imported to Italy along the long Silk Road.  I was fucking her hard now,
and she had closed her eyes, making those lovely grunting and panting
sounds I grew to know so well in her.  She was coming.  Her hands had been
combing through the hair on my arse and shoulders, and now I could feel her
nails tearing at me as she climaxed.  I came too, although I had not
intended to.

   As her orgasm died away I could feel her cunt twitching on my cock,
gripping and releasing it.  She opened her eyes and was about to say
something, but I closed her mouth with a kiss.  I felt her breast again,
and licked the firm roundness, sucked on the brown nipple.  I had never
known tits like these: what a figure she had!  Amazingly my cock was still
hard, and as I enjoyed her breasts I realised I wanted some more fucking.
And now!  I started again with long slow sweeps, deep into her.  I saw the
surprise in her eyes and then the pleasure as she again hugged me tight and
clasped her ankles together behind my back.  Her cunt was like a sackful of
ferrets now, gripping, squeezing, milking my cock as we fucked.  I had
never known a sensation like it, and she came again.  I fucked on and she
orgasmed again and again, the climaxes almost running together into one
sustained, draining episode of delight.

   At last she begged me to stop.  "Please, Max, no more.  Please, I
can't....." But she was coming yet again, and her protest dissipated into a
series of grunts and squeaks.  But my orgasm had been mounting, and at that
moment it released itself and I emptied my cum into her in a series of
spurts, the biggest and fiercest climax I had ever known (and still the
best ever!)

   We lay silent, both amazed and astounded, until finally I rolled off and
lay beside her.

   "Jesus!  Sally, I'm completely fucked!"

   "No, darling, I'm the one who has been fucked, completely, totally and
utterly.  I never met a man who could come and then go on again without
stopping."

   "I never could before, sweetie.  It was your breasts!  After we came I
looked at your figure, licked your tits, sucked the nipples, and then
wanted some more.  And I've read about women who are multi-orgasmic but
never believed they really existed: I thought they were the figment of male
pornographers' imaginations.  Now I know one does at least!"

   "That never happened to me before, lover.  It was fantastic."

   "God!  You're lovely.  I could eat you!"

   "In the morning, lover.  That will be nice, and I'll eat you too.  But
just now I'm exhausted and want to sleep." She reached over me and switched
off the light.  We slept, not exactly in each others' arms, but with arms
and hands on the others' body.

   .................................................................

   In the morning I woke first.  We had not used covers during the night as
the flat was very warm, and she looked a dream laying on her side fast
asleep and tranquil.  I could feel my cock getting interested again, but
needed a piss, and while I was there I washed my face and cock (remembering
the asides about 'eating' each other!) I quickly brewed some strong coffee.

   She had just awoken when I took the coffee in, and stretched her arms up
to kiss me, no sexy smile yet, but rather a cheeky, little girl grin. 
Happy!

   "I need the bathroom!"

   Eventually I heard the toilet flush and the running water.  Good!  She
looked so sexy crossing the room naked to the bed that I was instantly
rock-hard again.

   "Now that IS gallant!" She held my cock in her hand: I was too broad for
her to close her fist on it.

   I was about to see an aspect of Sally that I had not suspected as she
clambered over me, squatted over my head, and lowered her cunt onto my
face. I had a last glimpse of those plump, shaven lips, the little pearl of
a clit just peeping out from them, almost timid.  But there was nothing
timid about the way she now took her pleasure.  She raised herself an inch,
and I felt her fingers spread her outer cunt lips before she settled back
again, her wide-open cunt now ready to seek its satisfaction.  I lay
helpless as she raked her cunt up and down my face, not just using my
tongue to stimulate herself, but really raping my face, using my nose and
chin and forehead as well as my lips and pointed tongue to rub her clitoris
and inner lips.  I was bathed in her juices which flowed as her heat
increased.  The scent and taste of woman, overpowering, exciting, primitive
filled my nostrils and intoxicated me.  I could feel her hands on my body,
pulling at my nipples, pressing and pummeling my belly, sometimes less
painfully combing through my body hair, cupping my balls or grasping my
penis.  Her cunt was making slurping noises now as my own saliva as I tried
to get my tongue into her vagina with each sweep of her hips mixed with the
juices of her passion.  This was arrogant woman taking her pleasure from a
male slave, and found an echo in my deepest longings and fantasies.  I too
was in ecstasy, and could hear the oaths and endearments she was mouthing,
even through the warm blanket of female flesh over my ears as her thighs
gripped my head.  I had been laying with my hands by my side, as if
hypnotised, but now I awoke a bit and held her hips while she fucked me. 
She was going at it harder and faster now, and I was really bathed in
liquid: I knew she was close.  I reached up and found a breast.  This
tipped her over the edge and she was coming, fierce and insistant in her
movements.
And now she leaned forward, her cunt still firmly clamped over my mouth.
I felt her mouth warm and wet as she took my cock and let the full length
slide between her lips till her face touched my belly.  I heard myself
groan, but was still licking at her clit and the part of her open cunt my
tongue could reach.  I locked my arms over her back and held her, but not
so tightly to stop her bobbing up and down on my cock.  She was taking the
full length, raising herself till only the knob was in her mouth, and then
falling down again so the shaft rubbed against her lips and felt the
suction of her mouth.  I was in ecstasy, and my sexual tension increased as
she started to wank me in time with her sucking.  I felt her other hand
cradling and tickling my balls, as if feeling their weight.  She knew I was
close, and the tempo of jerking and sucking increased.  Her free hand left
my balls and a finger was tap-tapping on my arsehole.  That was too much: I
wanted not to come, to prolong this excruciating pleasure, but could not. I
exploded into her mouth what must have been a gusher of hot cum.  She

sucked and squeezed as if milking the last drops.  She swallowed.

   Later, laying propped against the pillows, sipping coffee and
langourously feeling each other, she my chest hair and nipple with her arm
around my neck, me her belly-button and, of course, one lovely breast.

   "There's just you and your two lovely daughters then?  No man in the
house?"

   "No.  Hector left me a couple of years ago."

   "Sex no good?" My theory was that most separations and divorces started
in the bed.

   "No.  Sex was good with him.  Kinky, but great really."

   "Kinky?"

   "Not very.  He liked to tie me up sometimes and whip me.  Playfully
mostly.  Used to like to fuck me in my bottom, the rogue." She laughed.

   "You didn't mind, then?"

   "I told you.  It was great.  Really got me going."

   "My ex, Fiona, liked a bit of that, too.  Only she liked to tie me up,
either on the bed or from that hook in the ceiling there." I pointed, "Over
there, in front of the dressing table mirror.  Sometimes she would fuck me
with a strap-on dildo." I laughed now, a bit embarrassed, a big, hulking
macho guy happy to be tied up and fucked in the arse.  "Sometimes, not
often, I got to tie her up."

   "And fuck her in the arse?"

   "When she was tied to the bed, yes.  I've still got the bondage gear in
a box in the storeroom by the garage.  Ropes, whips, handcuffs, all that
stuff."

   "And the strap-on?"

   "Mm."

   "We should try that next time..."

   "Next saturday, Then.  Kinky session?"

   "Sounds fun."

   I was stroking her breast, and the nipple was hard under my palm.  "I
can't understand why your guy left you.  You're fantastic."

   "Thank you kind sir.  He fell in love with a boy at the office, and set
up house with him in a flat in Streatham.  I still see him sometimes."

   "You weren't too upset and angry then."

   "I was angry all right, but it soon passed.  You can't do much about
love: it just strikes where it feels, and that's all there is to it.  And I
had Lucy.  Still have Lucy.  I'm bisexual, Max.  Does that shock you?"

   "Not a bit.  I'm bi myself and love a bit of cock."

   "Anyone special?"

   "Well, yes.  Peter.  But he's in America now, Los Angeles.  His company
promoted him and moved him there.  I still see him sometimes, as I can
write nearly anywhere, though I need to be in London to do the research
properly.  This is Peter."

   I took his photo from the bedside table drawer.  Normally it stands on
top, by the bed, but I put it away when I have another boy (or girl!) in my
bed.

   "He looks nice.  But not my type.  Not very macho.  Chinese?"

   The photo was taken on a beach in California the year before, and it
showed him slender and boyish in his tight blue trunks.  "Half Chinese, but
born here.  English dad and Hong Kong mother."

   "When did your woman leave you?  Wife?"

   "Yes.  Not long ago."

   " I could see there had been a woman about the place...  that dressing
table for example.  Was it because of Peter?"

   "No, she liked him and was not jealous of my boy-friends.  Found it
amusing, really.  It was a bit like your ex.  She fell in love with a girl,
and not just any girl.  Tina Kracylova."

   "What, the tennis girl?  I'm not surprised.  She's dead sexy that one."

   "And rich!"

   "You're hard agin, and I'm still randy.  This time I'll ride you.  Just
lay back and enjoy this, lover.....



  
...........................................................................
.............

   The bondage gear had needed dusting off and washing for the more
intimate stuff.  I left it in a heap on the bedroom chair.  I was in my
Dinner Jacket again, but had fitted a cock strap ready for later.

   She was punctual as ever, and under the heavy winter coat was wearing
what looked like a basque, black satin with blue trimmings, and nearly
see-thru black flowing and silky trousers.  Her stiletto heels were very
high and very sexy.

   "You look fantastic, Sally.  How did you drive in those heels?"

   "Changed them in the car, silly.  You look good.  Let's keep the meal
short, shall we."

   I had thought the same myself and the food was light and simple, with
only one bottle of champagne.  Through the meal the question hovered
between us, unanswered, but all the more exciting for that.  Who would be
dominant and who submissive this first bondage session?

   The meal was soon over and then to the bedroom!

   Sally's eyes lit up when she saw the array of bondage gear, and she
complimented my ex Fiona on her taste!  It was immediately obvious that our
first 'kinky' session was to feature me in the role of slave, and Sally as
Mistress.  No problem!  I was used to that!

   I had screwed the hook into its ceiling socket by the dressing table
during the afternoon when I was sorting out the whips, and she handcuffed
my hands together (American police handcuffs and real antiques!), before
hooking the short connecting chain over the hook so I was stretched between
ceiling and floor, just able to stand on tip-toes.  I was still dressed
head-to-toe on my dinner jacket etcetera.

   "I love a man in evening dress..." I watched as she undid the little bow
at the front of her silk trousers and let them fall to her ankles.  She
wore black, glossy fully-fashioned nylons, and the seams were immaculately
straight up the back of her shapely legs.  Her cunt was naked.  No panties
at all, and the black basque straps framed that pretty shaven mound and the
plump lips.  She knew I was looking at her, laughed and playfully gave me a
cut with the black leather riding-crop across my buttocks.  I was protected
still by the cloth of my trousers, but it hurt mone-the-less and I
flinched, with a little yelp, part of surprise, part of pain.  She was
fiddling with the waistband of my trousers, standing behind me and reaching
round.  I felt her rub her crotch against the side of my legs, and looking
in the mirror could see that juices from her cunt had stained my otherwise
perfect dj already.

   "Yes.  It's good to have a man dressed like this.  I've quite a fetish
for it.  Mmmm." She was facing me now, and kissed me brutally, bruising my
lips, as she again rubbed her naked cunt against me.  More damp smears on
my suit, which would need a dry-clean after this treatment.  She had undone
the cummerbund and the waist, and when she slid the zip down, my trousers
fell to my ankles.

   "I say!  Calvin Kleins!  And genuine too!" She laughed, and I felt the
whip again over my buttocks, the eight-thonged black leather cat o nine
tails this time, which had been Fiona's favourite.  I yelped again, but the
sting was partly softened by my underpants.  My underpants now joined my
trousers round my ankles.  Stretched as I was, the mess of clothes around
my feet made it a bit difficult to balance.  This was not helped when the
whip again lashed across my buttocks, protected now only by my shirt-tails.
I really screamed this time.

   "Can't have that!  Scare the neighbours if you go on like that!  This is
what we need.  It was the ball-gag.  I told her I was worried that gagged I
would not be able to tell her to stop, if she got carried away.  By the
look of her plump and juicy cunt lips she might well forget herself in her
state of arousal....

   "It looks as if you enjoy being hurt: I've always wanted to find a man
who gets harder the more you whip him, and it looks as if I'm finally
lucky." This as she prised open my jaw and gagged me, buckling the strap
firm behind my head.  This time when she struck me across my buttocks I
flinched and squirmed, but could manage only a gurgle in my throat. 
"That's better.  Now I wonder if..." Another vicious slash across my arse,
and then she was facing me again, kissing me hard as she raised one leg to
rub her pussy against my cock, which was now super-hard.  I felt her raise
herself an inch or two, and then she sank down on it, impaling herself. 
Her hands grasped my buttocks as she wriggled and squirmed.  "That's enough
for now.  And lets get these clothes off you."

   The pants were easy, and the socks and shoes, but of course my shirt
could not be removed handcuffed as I was.  I regretted leaving my
nail-scissors on the dressing table as she cut into the collar, and with a
strong pull ripped it in halves.That shirt cost me £30!  More rips and the
tatters of white cotton lay around my ankles.  I watched in the mirror as
she ran her hands over my body, gentle now for a few moments.  I could tell
it was the feel of my hair she liked.  Then her hand on my cock, the other
cupping my balls as if to feel their weight, She laughed, and picked up the
black leather cat o nine tails: this sounds a worse weapon than it really
is.  The leather thongs sting but do not cut the skin....  at least they
did not when Fiona whipped me with it.  With a straight arm in a great
swing, her tits moving, she lashed my buttocks again and again.  I could
see in the mirror them turning pink under the black hair, and flinched with
each stroke, but did not cry out.  The pain was less intense, less stinging
than the riding crop.  My cock twitched with each stroke and was getting
bigger and harder it seemed with each lash, standing so erect that it
nearly pressed against my belly.  Precum oozed, and was dripping down the
shaft, over my balls and onto the carpet.

   Her cunt, too, was looking more swollen, lips parted slightly and
gleaming, her clitoris peeking out between them,

   She paused, and rubbed her cunt with the black leather handle, parting
the lips and letting it stimulate the full length.  Then she squatted just
slightly, bending at the knees, and the whole of the handle disppeared into
her cunt.  I could see the pleasure on her face.  It obviously gave her
ideas, for again she pressed her body to mine, her tits hard against my
chest and her lips bruising me with the passion of her kiss.  I felt her
leg raise, and then saw in the mirror her cunt pressed against my cock. 
She bent the shaft and rubbed it in her slit: then the warmth of her cunt
around it.  She could not move much in this position, but I could feel her
cunt contracting and relaxing, gripping my cock and releasing it as if
milking the cum from it.  My hands hurt and arms ached with the weight of
her body added to mine, but the pleasure was intense.

   But short-lived!

   She hauled herself off me, and was unhooking my cuffs from the ceiling,
still leaving my hands handcuffed together.  She pushed me and I fell on
the bed.  I expected her to fasten me face down: Fiona always had, to whip
me and enjoy my arse.  But Sally wanted me on my back, cock in the air and
available.  Fiona had chosen the bed, an iron one with plenty of options
for bondage.  My hands were fastened to the bedhead, and my feet tied with
rope round each ankle, splayed wide open, to each corner of the foot of the
bed.  She squatted over my face, giving me a lovely view of her excited and
plumped cunt as she lowered herself onto my face, pulling her cuntlips
apart at the last moment.  Now she raped my face, raking her cunt up and
down it, using my forehead and chin as well as my nose and lips to
stimulate her clit and cunt-lips.  I stuck my tongue out stiff to try to
penetrate her cunt each time it passed over it.  I was bathed in her
juices, and I heard rather than felt her first orgasm.

   She was immediately ready for me (you have to envy the girls this!), and
in seconds was squatted over my cock and lowering herself onto it.

   "Don't you dare come!  If you come I'll leave you like this all night!"

   It was difficult not to, though, as she bounced up and down on me, and I
could watch her slender, athletic body, and those lovely firm tits, and
above all feel the heat and energy in her cunt as she took her pleasure. 
She was close to coming again when she took one of my nipples in each hand
and twisted it viciously.  I screamed: she came.

   She disappeared into the kitchen-diner and came back with a bottle and
two glasses in her hand.  Her legs in high heels and fully-fashioned
stockings were stunning, and my cock twitched at the sight.  (No I had not
come just now: nearly, but managed to hold it off!)

   She poured herself a glass of bubbly and drank about half of it.  The
rest she leaned over and tipped onto my cock.  Jesus!  It was cold.  I
yelled.  She laughed, and her mouth was on it supping champagne, precum,
and the juices of her own orgasm.  Again I had difficulty not coming, but
managed to keep it in while she sucked and licked.  It was easier when she
turned her attention to my balls, nibbling and pulling at the skin with her
teeth.

   Fiona had bought the strap-on dildo on the internet, and it had been her
idea not mine.  At first I had not liked it much, but later I grew to love
it.  (And it was her education of my arse that made my gay encounters so
much more rewarding, but that's another story).  So I was quite excited to
see Sally fasten the black straps round her thighs, and the broader, red
one across her hips.  The cock-shaped dildo was black, and stood bigger
than most men ever achieve.

   "I've been looking forward to this!" Standing by the bed she thrust her
hips forward in imitation of the masculine fucking movement.  It was
exciting and at the same time alarming to me.  Fiona always started slowly
and gently, building up to the full-speed, full-power fucking as my
arsehole became used to it each time.  I doubted Sally would be as kind,
and could not say anything gagged as I was.  She thrust her hips forward
again and I could see she was excited: the base of the dildo was actually
between her swollen cunt-lips, and must have been resting snugly over her
clit.  She laughed, and started to untie my ankles.  I thought she would
turn me over, to fuck my arse from behind, but her intention was soon shown
to be different.  First one leg then the other was bent back and tied to
the bedhead, wide-spread.  My anus must have been open and naked to her.  I
prayed quietly she would use the baby oil I had left on the bedside table,
half expecting to be using it myself on her arse.

   Thank goodness!  She knelt in front of me and dropped a little stream of
oil onto my anus, and I felt it drip down the crease.  No hands, she let
the dildo rest on my anus and pushed.  There was resistance as I flinched,
but the pressure increased and I felt the knob of the rubber cock
penetrate, to be followed by the slow, gasping sliding of the whole shaft
into me until her pubic mound rested on me.  And she fucked!

   I watched her belly and those lovely tits inches from my face as I
accepted her prick deep in me, and she titillated her clit with the end of
it pressing on her.  Amazingly she was going to orgasm....Fiona had found
it exciting, but never came with this act.  I was close to coming too, but
without hands on my cock never came just from being fucked in the arse.  So
I was in no danger of being left tied up all night as she had threatened.

   She had come, but it was not over yet.

   She quickly untied my ankles, and unclipped the handcuffs from the iron
bedhead.

   "Over!"

   I rolled over on my belly, and my hands were fastened again beyond my
head as I knelt.  She took me in the more traditional mode, from behind as
I knelt.  My arsehole was open and welcoming now, and the feeling of
penetration was a true delight, as was the pummelling of my prostate while
she fucked me as hard as she could.  She started to slap my arse, one slap
with each thrust, and one word with each slap. 
'I've---waited---years---for---this---a
male---slave---bound---gagged----and ready---to be---fucked.' I was so
excited that I had nearly given up all hope of controlling myself short of
orgasm, but I felt her hands now on my head, unbuckling my gag.  I breathed
easier and my jaw was grateful for the release.  But still she fucked me
with long, deep thrusts of that wickedly shaped dildo.  I was lost in a
mixture of pain and pleasure, my cock straining and rubbing at the pillow
under my belly.  She leaned right over me, and fucked me harder, faster: I
could feel her tits hard against my back, and my orgasm was building
somewhere between my arse and my balls.  Then her lips kissing, almost
sucking on my neck, and I was coming.  I yelled my ecstasy, and came into
the pillow, the biggest, longest, almost painfully complete orgasm ever.

   Her thrusts became gentler, and died away.

   .....................................................................

   Sex was becoming so good with Sally that I had almost forgotten my main
purpose in fucking her was to get access to her daughters, forbidden fruit,
but oh-so-tasty!  In the event it was Sally herself who showed me the way
to them, the elder of them at any rate.

   Wednesday morning she came round as usual to do the cleaning and laundry
and I could see she was upset.  I almost wished I had kept out of her way,
as I usually did, as the last thing I wanted was involvement in any
troubles she might have.  Sex, yes: strings, no!  But finally I was glad I
had.

   'Lucy has given me an aweful shock!'

   '????'

   'Didn't even have the courage to tell me to my face.  Just a two-line
email.'

   '????'

   'Gone off to Florida with a diving instructor.  Girl, of course.'

   'Oh, Sally, I am sorry for you.  Are you terribly upset?' In fact, I
couldn't have given a toss really, but there are conventions after all!

   'Not for myself.  I've got plenty enough lovin now.' She kissed me
lightly on the forehead.  'No it's Chantelle.  They must have been having
an affaire secretly.  Anyway, poor Chantelle is completely devastated. 
Moping around and utterly miserable.  First love is so difficult.'

   'I thought she had a boy-friend.  Gareth or something?  Won't he get her
over it.'

   'I'm afraid he's a real wimp: no sex there, and I suspect he's actually
gay.  Slender and willowy, long hair, artistic-poetic type.  All talk and
no trousers!'

   'Sound more like my type, sweetheart!'

   'You're incorrigible Max.  But you're right, he's no good for her.'

   'Sounds as if what she needs is a real man...'

   'Like you, Max.  Someone to show her how good it really can be. 
Mmmmmm.' Another peck, on my lips this time.

   'Well, I'm willing enough if that's what you want, sweetheart.  We could
show her how good proper, thorough sex can be....'

   ............................................................

   And so the next Saturday night I was the guest at her flat instead of
vice versa.

   Sally and Chantelle had matching dresses, Sally's in gold for her
ash-blonde hair, and Chantelle's in silver for her Latina brunette
colouring.  Both dresses were of some sort of silk fabric that clung to
their bodies, accentuating the shape of breasts and bottom, and at
mid-thigh length hiding little of shapely legs, bare and tanned for the
girl, and in her usual black stockings for the mother.  They were
wet-dreams of provocative sex.  My cock started to stiffen in anticipation
of extreme (and hopefully illegal!) pleasures.

   Poor little Ophelia was second-best to say the least in a really
'little-girl' pink party dress.  She looked her eleven or so years, but
there was, for me at least, something sexy about the girl nonetheless.

   The dinner was good, but my guess is mostly instant meals from an
up-market grocer somewhere.  The wine flowed.  We had a bottle of bubbly,
then two bottles of red, and finally a bottle of white vin liquoreux. 
Ophelia was strictly rationed by her mother, and I drank very little (I
wanted to be on form sexually!  And I had slipped a viagra early in the
meal.) So Sally and her daughter drank a lot and were fairly drunk by the
end of the last bottle, when Sally took out a spliff and passed it round.
The cannabis added to the jolity, and I said I was feeling hot, stripping
off my shirt.  I am very proud of my muscular physique and hairy body, and
I could see it had impressed young Chantelle, which was the intention.

   Sally put some music on, and I kicked my shoes off and asked Chantelle
to dance.  Sally and Ophelia cleared the table and disappeared into the
kitchen.

   Chantelle danced well, lithe and light on her feet, her silver dress
showing off her body to good effect.  She soon kicked her shoes off too,
when the music became a slow blues.  Just right!  We stood there in each
other's arms, swaying to the music, pressed together.  I remember having
one hand cupped over her bottom, feeling it move under the slippery satin
of her dress, and could feel too the tight little thong.  My other hand was
round her naked shoulder, holding her against me so I could feel her
breasts on my naked chest.  She was shamelessly rubbing her body against my
belly and cock as we danced, and I could feel one hand testing the strength
of my shoulder and back muscles while the other combed through the matted
chest hair.  She raised her leg and pressed it upwards into my crotch: I
captured it between my thighs and squeezed it there while we kissed.

   I was whispering silly endearments in her ear, and she flattered me with
praise for my physique.  I found the catch of her dress under my fingers,
and I managed to undo it.  The zip ran down her back, opening of its own
accord, and the slippery fabric fell in a waterfall to a pool of silver
around her ankles.  Not at all perturbed, she just stepped out of it, and
we swayed together again, but her naked except for that tight little white
thong, cupping her cunt and dividing the cheeks of her buttocks.  I felt
her fingers at the waistband of my trousers, and then the zip, and my own
pants fell to the floor.  I was naked beneath them.

   Still no sign of her sister and mother.  I lifted the girl in my arms,
and my lips on hers to stifle any protests (there were none!) I carried her
to the main bedroom, her mother's.

   She lay on the double bed, naked except for that tantalising thong.  I
could feel her eyes, focussing despite the cannabis that I could see
softening her expression, focussing on my cock that waved arrogant above
her as I looked down.  she was everything you could want in a girl, a real
angel.  Her dark hair shone, and her skin was tanned a mediterranean brown,
even her tits.  And these were going one day to be as lovely as her
mother's, already round, full and upright despite laying on her back.  The
little brown nipples looked sharp enough to poke a man's eyes out!  I
reached for her panties, and she raised her flat belly for me to draw them
down her thighs, and off over her ankles.  Her little honey-pot was firmly
closed, lips tight shut.  They were hairless, at least seen from three feet
away, but she had a pretty little triangle of fine black hair over her
mound of Venus.  She smiled at me, a partly-drunk, partly-pot, wholly sexy
smile.

   'Kiss me again, Uncle Max.  Give me a hug.'

   I did kiss her, but not on her lips!  I lay between her legs and kissed
those little-girl cunt-lips, slipping my tongue between them and tasting
her inside them.  She squirmed and gave a little squeak as I opened the
lips with both hands and pressed my mouth to the scarlet flesh within.  Her
clit was small but as I sucked and nibbled I could feel it harden and taste
the juices as she became properly aroused.  She held my head in her hands,
and was raising and lowering her hips, rubbing her open cunt against my
lips and nose.  The inside of her thighs was so silky smooth against my
cheek that I wanted to kiss her there too.  But she protested and hauled my
head back to her cunt, pulling at my hair.  I was enjoying her body,
stroking her flat belly, and reaching up to handle her breasts, learning
the contours of a teenage beauty.  She was moving faster under me now, and
I could sense she was getting close to orgasm: she would, after all, be no
stranger to being sucked off, having been the lover of an adult lesbian for
the past few weeks.  My plan was to let her get very close to orgasm, and
then when the squeaks became louder and closer together.....

   The shock for her must have been terrible!  I suddenly stopped sucking,
moved quickly to lay fully on top of her, placed my knob in her crack and
with a push was in her.  The whole process must have taken a second at
most. In that instant she went from virgin close to coming, to woman with a
big, fat cock in her and pushing further and further up her.  She
half-screamed with the intake of breath, and then there was a deep
'Aaaaah!' as my cock penetrated fully, and my weight was on her pubic
mound.

   I paused a short moment, savouring the fact of this conquest!

   Then, 'All right, sweetie?'

   'Oh yes!  oh yes.  You're so big, you really fill and stretch me.  Be
gentle Max.  But it feels nice.'

   I withdrew as far as the knob and pushed again.  She was tight, and the
walls of her vagina felt muscular as they gripped me.  I wondered how long
I would be able to hold my orgasm back: I wanted her to cum and cum again
this first time, to show her how good sex with a real male could be.  I
withdrew again and moved up on her body an inch or two.  Now when I pushed
in my cock raked its full length along her clitoris and I was rewarded by
her intake of breath and a long 'Ooooh!' I felt her hips moving under me
and we were fucking properly, adjusting to each other's rhythm.  Of course
I had cheated, bringing her to the very edge of orgasm before sliding my
cock into her welcoming cunt, but I had been right.  I just knew this was
going to be a big and powerful come for her.  I felt her finger nails
raking painfully down my back and her teeth biting into my neck and
redoubled my pace and ferocity.  Her cunt gripped, released, gripped
released, and I knew she was coming.  Faster and faster I shagged her, and
finally, as I felt her first orgasm passing, slowed down to long, slow
sweeps, deep and filling.

   I had not come, and for the moment the crisis had passed for me, and I
could fuck confident that I would hold out.  I wanted this to be a night
for her to remember, to fix her psyche as wholly bisexual and not solely
lesbian.  So I fucked on, and within minutes she was responding agin,
winding her legs round my waist and locking her ankles around my back.  We
were kissing now, passionate and bruising kisses, and I could feel her
hands kneading my shoulder and back muscles.  I was seeking out her tits,
crushed between us.  I felt her orgasm rising again, and like the first
time speeded up to echo it.  Again she clawed my back and this time she
grunted and panted her passion, no endearments here but just elemental
animal noises as she gripped my cock with her strong vagina and came again.
I did not slow down but fucked on at the same furious pace and could feel
her orgasm pass but another beginning to mount.

   I was suddenly aware of other hands on my body, stroking my arse, below
where Chantelle had captured it with her thighs.  It was Sally, laying
beside me me now, her gold silk dress pulled up to her waist, rubbing her
clit with one hand and groping me with the other.  She laughed, and sat up
to pull the dress up and over her head.  Beneath me, her daughter was
coming yet again.  I could see her eyes open now but rolling
uncontrollably, a grimace almost of pain on her pretty face.  And I fucked
on.

   'Do her from behind, Max.  Give it to her from behind.'

   There were protests as I pulled my cock out from her, but she knew what
I wanted immediately and was kneeling on the bed, wiggling her arse like
any other animal on heat.  I pressed against her thighs and slid into her
open and willing cunt with one easy push.  Sally had managed to get her
head underneath the girl and was playing with her daughter's clit, and even
managing to get a tongue onto it, though with some difficulty.  I fucked
that sweet teenage bottom with great vigour, and could not resist slapping
the firm, rounded flesh with open palms in time with my thrusts.  With
fingers and a tongue on her clit she was going to come again, and I could
feel, and now hear the orgasm mounting as she moaned, grunted and squeaked
in her ecstasy.  The moment she was coming I felt Sally pulling at my
scrotum and squeezing my balls almost painfully.  That was too much and I
could not stop myself: I came into her virgin cunt a great, balls-draining
come, crashing my thighs into her bottom.

   I was still hard, and moving gently in her as I felt her cunt slacken
again.

   'Oh!  Please, Uncle Max.  No more!  Please.  I can't take any more.'

   I laughed.  'But I can, Chantelle.' And fucked on, gently.  I felt
beneath her as she knelt and had a hand on each firm breast.  Lovely!

   'Give her a rest Max.  Fuck me, darling!'

   I was suddenly aware of little Ophelia sitting in the lloyd-loom chair
in the corner, her hand up and under her pink party-dress, and obviously
playing with her clit, out of sight under the frills.  But Sally was laying
naked, legs open, waiting.  I pulled out of her daughter, who collapsed
onto her belly, and I immediately penetrated her mother, still wet and
gleaming as my cock was from her daughter's cunt.  And we fucked, a long
and satisfying fuck for both of us as I had come once, and though the
viagra had kept me hard, the come had slowed me down.  She came twice
before I loosed another load into her.

   And still Ophelia masturbated away in the corner!

   That night they left the double bed for me and Chantelle, and we both
slept uninterrupted all night.  I was woken by ophelia with tea for her
sister and coffee for me.  After the necessary piss-call for me and then
Chantelle, we sat and sipped our drinks while Ophelia sat on the bed as
well, her pink silk nightie riding up her legs, but not far enough to show
me her cunt.

   She watched as I fucked her sister again....two orgasms for her, one for
me, and one for Ophelia, masturbating, and giving me fleeting glimpses of
white thighs and a hairless mound and cunt-lips.

   'Can you fuck me now, Uncle Max?  '

   'I'd like to Ophelia.  You are very pretty and sexy.  But your mother
says you are too young.'

   'Oh, please!'

   'You'll have to persuade your mother.'

   'It's not fair!' The constant cry of teens.  'It's just not fair!'

   .................................................................

   For several weeks it was very satisfactory for me.  Sally and her
daughter were both available, Chantelle via her mouth and her cunt and her
mother in all three routes.  My one regret was that mother and daughter
never had sex together.  I knew they had both had lesbian relationships,
not together, but both of them with the same woman, so both knew and
presumably liked those acts of sex.  How amusing it would have been to have
watched the two flip-flopping together, or better still sucking each other
off?  But after that first frenetic time, when Sally had I think sucked at
her daughter's cunt, or at least kissed itwhile I was fucking, they
scarcely so much as touched each other when the three of us were abed.  I
was tempted to take Chantelle's hand and place it on her mother's breast,
or take Sally's hand and press it to her daughter's hairless cunt.  But I
was unwilling to risk what I had so far gained, and was finally content to
let nature take its course.  Then one Saturday it was all change for us,
and some further education of the girls!

   It was still cold enough out for them to need long, heavy coats, and
they brought the icy cold in with them as I opened the front door.  The
temperature soon rose, however, as they gave me their coats to hang up. 
Sally was naked beneath hers, except for a tight leather basque, black with
scarlet trim, black seamed stockings and black patent leather high heels.
Her daughter took off her coat to reveal only a black satin bra, and black
panties which would have been open-crotch were it not for a lacy bow at the
front.  They were the sort with bows at the side too, handy I thought!  She
had black hold-up stockings and the same fetish heels as her mother.

   Poor Ophelia still had her little-girl pink party frock!

   I just had to comment.  'Kinky today then?'

   Sally answered.  'We thought it would be good to show Chantelle some of
the other games people play!' Lovely Sally had not even thought to wear
panties, and I could tell she was already excited by the plumpness of her
cuntlips.

   'I'd better join you then.' And I was stripping off then and there in
the hallway of the apartment.

   We went straight through to my bedroom: plenty of time to eat later. 
The girls led the way, and Sally held my arm a moment to whisper in my ear,
'You'd better have Ophelia tonight, darling.  She's been on and on about it
not being fair left out and it's gettin to be a bore.  She's yours if you
like.'

   'I like...'

   There was a chair in the corner for Ophelia, as usual, and Chantelle
helped me lay out the bondage gear.

   'Did you know your mother was into this stuff, Chantelle?'

   'Oh yes, Uncle Max.  No secrets in our house.  she said you liked being
tied up too.'

   'Trust a woman to spill the beans.  Anyway, we're going to tie her up
first.  Hold her arms together for me while I lock these hancuffs.  And now
we hook them over that hook in the ceiling.  There!'

   She already looked good her breasts pulled upwards as she was stretched
there, so that nipples peeped from the cup of the basque.

   'Now that bar, fastened to each ankle, that's right, above the high
heels.' As Chantelle hunkered to fasten the black leather straps her
panties stretched tight over the prettiest little arse.  I squatted beside
her and felt the shiny nylon and the firm flesh beneath, she turned her
head, and smiled the cheekiest little-girl grin before returning to the
fiddly task.

   The stretcher bar opened Sally's legs wide and made her doubly
vulnerable, naked cunt now un-guarded.  I could feel my cock harden, and
could see Chantelle looking up at her mother's cunt, groomed and
sophisticated like everything about her.  I wondered how many cunts the
girl had seen, and how many cocks, because, as I ran my hand up Sally's
stockinged leg I could see her daughter eyeing my cock, remembering I hoped
the fucking of the week before.

   'You should feel this, Chantelle.  She's got great legs...'

   'The girl ran her hand lightly up, but only as far as the thigh.  Still,
that was a start.'

   'Now we must gag her.  Don't want to worry the neighbours!'

   I use a red rubber ball-gag, with black leather straps that I always
fasten under the girl's hair, especially if it is shoulder-length like this
one.

   'There!  Now she's ready.' I picked up my short horse-whip and gave her
a sharp cut across her buttocks.  She flinched delightfully.  Another
one....

   'She loves this, Chantelle.  You have a go.'

   Somewhat hesitantly the girl picked up the black six-thonged leather
"cat" and swished it through the air trying it out.

   'On her bottom.  That's where she likes it.  Really gets her going.'

   I watched while the girl gave her mother a hearty swish across the
buttocks.  She must have liked that because she repeated the stroke, and
then three more in quick succession.  I suppose most teenage girls would
like to have their parent, male or female, in this position to take out on
them all the petty disputes and quarrels that fill family life when there
are teenagers!  Anyway, I could see a damp patch forming,darker than the
rest of the nylon, between the girl's legs: she was finding it exciting to
dominate this lovely blonde.  And her mother, too, was aroused: I could see
her cunt lips plumped up before, but opening a bit now and her clit just
peeping out, glistening with her excitement.

   In her chair in the corner, Ophelia was gripping the arms of it and
watching closely.  She licked her lips and I realised she had been at her
mother's or her sister's lipstick making her lips look full and very
desirable in that peaches and cream complexion.  I made myself wait just a
few minutes longer!

   Chantelle squatted beside me on the floor, both of us now hugging and
kissing Sally's legs.

   'Her poor bottom!  Look it's gone all pink!'

   'Don't worry about that, Chantelle sweetie: she loves it.  and look what
it's done to her cunt lips, being beaten a bit.  Oh yes, she really loves
it!  Look, I'll kiss it better.'

   The girl was giggling as I licked and kissed her mother's naked arse, so
smooth, white and round.

   'You too, sweetie.'

   'Oh, I couldn't!"

   'If you can beat her bottom, you can certainly caress it!'

   I think the reluctance was really for the form of it, and not genuine,
because the girl was already fondling, stroking and caressing, and I'm sure
her fingers were sliding into the arse-crack as well, finding the arousal
there, between.

   'She likes to be tied to the bed for sex, now she's nicely warmed up.'

   We unhooked her handcuffs and I carried her to the bed, securing her
hands again to the iron bed-head.  Chantelle removed the spreader bar, and
I had her fix one ankle strap to the very centre of the foot of the bed,
while the other one was strapped to the brass bed-knob.  This left her cunt
nice and open for us.

   'And once she has been whipped, she wants to be sucked.  Lay here with
me, Chantelle.'

   I lay over Sally's outstretched leg with Chantelle beside me, me
fondling her mother's breast, peeping out from the cup of her basque,
Chantelle stroking my cock, gently as if it were some prized antique. 
Sally wriggled her hips, though that was difficult constrained as she was.

   'She wants it, wriggling!' I leaned over and licked the length of her
half-open cunt: I slid my tongue between the outer lips, so plump, and
found the juices within.  I licked up and down, sometimes nibbling her clit
with guarded teeth, sometimes working round it in a figure of eight with my
tongue, always working her towards orgasm but stopping just short of it: I
knew that the longer the build up to the first orgasm the larger it will
be, and the easier the repeats!

   'Is that how you do it with Lucy, Chantelle?'

   She hesitated, presumably out of loyalty to her former lover, but then
told me none-the-less.  'Sort of, but she liked my thumb in her at the same
time, and my little finger in her arse.'

   'Show me, Chantelle....'

   'Oh, I couldn't.  Not my Mum....'

   'She wants it, and you'll never see a sexier girl tied to a bed for
you.' I took her hand and placed it on her mother's open cunt.  She did not
remove it!  'Show me, Chantelle.'

   The girl started tentatively, slowly, but was soon licking furiously,
her thumb in the woman's cunt and her little finger inserted in her anus.
Sally wriggled sexily, her hips moving and making the two invading digits
rub and titillate.  She had already been on the edge, and her body heaved
as she came: I imagined the breaking of the incest taboo had been exciting
for her as it had been for me: and, I realised, for her daughters!  Ophelia
in the corner was looking wide-eyed, but her skirt was up round her waist,
her hand down the waistband of her little-girl pink knickers, and she was
rubbing away at her clit.  My cock was twitching and dripping precum, and
it was little Ophelia who was causing most of my excitement!  But Chantelle
was in her element.  Obviously experienced in lesbian love, she had eased
off from the furious activity of a moment or two before, and was licking
gently and slowly at her mother's cunt now, building her again.  I caressed
two breasts, one of mother on her back, one of daughter laying beside me.

   'Chantelle.  Shall I finger her cunt and arse while you suck her?  And
one breast each?'

   'I'm sure she'd like that!'

   We brought her off again, her daughter mouthing her clit, her lover
masturbating cunt and arse, while each breast was fondled and nipples
tweaked.  I knew she would have screamed with pleasure were it not for the
ball-gag.

   'I want to tie you up too, Chantelle...'

   'I hoped you would....'

   I had planned it out before.  I tied her beside her mother, one leg
stretched high to the other bed-knob, and the other straight on the bed,
tied to her mother's leg at the ankle.  They were like a big "W".  I gagged
the girl too, and left them to join Ophelia in the corner.

   'Kiss me, little Ophelia.'

   It was uncomfortable crouching over her in the chair and I lifted her to
her feet: now we could kiss properly, me naked and she in her pink silk
little-girl party frock.  There was nothing little girl about that first
kiss, though, passionate, tongues touching and penetrating, my arms around
her neck, leaning downwards to match her height, she with her arms around
my back, hands fondling my arse provocatively.  I kissed her neck and found
the catch at the top of her dress, undid it, and slid the zip down.  The
frock fell away from her shoulders and her flesh felt warm as I stroked it.
We stood apart for a moment and the dress slipped down to form a pool of
pink silk at her feet.  She was naked now except for those full, tight pink
satin knickers and her pink trainers.  We kissed again and she was rubbing
her body against mine, and especially against my cock.  Her bottom was warm
and felt firm under the satin beneath my hands.

   I sat her in her chair again and knelt to take off her trainers.  I ran
my hands up her slender legs, still sun-tanned from summer but now a golden
rather than deep tan.  Her skin was silky and smooth, and a texture that
most women lose as they pass adolescence, and only teenage boys and girls
seem to have.  I licked the inside of her thigh and she opened her legs
slightly in reaction.  Up now to nuzzle the crotch of her panties, feeling
it damp there, whether from her masturbation watching my fun and games with
her mother and sister, or whether from our embrace I did not know.  Either
way that moistness promised an exciting hour!

   'Are you going to take my panties down, Uncle Max?'

   'Some things are worth waiting for, Ophelia...'

   Her tits were still little-girl bumps, just starting to develop and as
yet nothing more than puppy fat, but crowned with the prettiest little
rose-pink nipples.  I kissed one, and as I licked it could feel it stiffen
under my lips.

   'Oooh!  That's lovely, Uncle Max.'

   Her other nipple was already erect when I took it between my lips and
gently nibbled it.  When I was a boy myself I never had a girl this
young....  though I had plenty of other boys...  and it was a new
experience to kiss and fondle these immature breasts.  It was obvious that
they were sensitive though.

   'That makes my bubbies tingle, and right down to my clitty too.  It's
lovely.' She was squirming beneath me with pleasure and caressing my
shoulder-muscles.  I was reminded of her clitty, and knelt again away from
her.  There was now a damp patch in her crotch, where the satin was darker.
I held the waistband of her knickers in two hands and slowly pulled them
down, over a white, smooth, very slightly rounded belly, down over her
hairless mound, and then down her legs, pulling them over her tiny feet, to
join the dress on the carpet.  Her cunt lips were pink and tightly shut,
virginal was the word that occurred to me.  They were not yet as plump as a
woman's would be when excited, but were so very pretty, I thought.  I
leaned and kissed her mound, and she raised her hips, inviting me to lick
her cunt-lips.

   I rearranged her.  One long, slender leg was draped over the arm of the
chair, and the other stretched out straight: now her cunt, legs apart, was
very slightly opened.  She giggled, and her blue eyes were shing with
excitement and happiness.  'I've wanted this so much, Uncle Max.'

   'What, Ophelia?'

   'Why, for you to kiss me there, silly.'

   My open mouth covered her whole cunt easily and although I was used to
Sally's shaven lips these were so smooth and silky.  I slipped my tongue
between them and found out her clit, already erect and ready for me.  She
gave a little squeak of pleasure as I pressed it with the tip of my tongue
and I felt her hands holding my head in place.  I held her hips to steady
myself and started to lick up and down, making sure my tongue penetrated
her virgin cunt every pass.  Like her mother and sister, her juices really
flowed as she became excited, and her hips started to move up and down
under me.  Now my whole face, nose, mouth and chin was rubbing into her
crack as she heaved and wriggled under me.  I felt her fingers tearing at
my hair, pulling and pushing at my head to make me lick faster and harder.
Then she was coming and the girls on the bed would have heard her litle
panting fgrunts and squeals and known that I had enjoyed her at last.

   'Please stop Uncle Max....It's gone all sensitive.  That was lovely.  I
knew it must be good watching you with mother and Chanta, but I had no idea
how good.'

   We cuddled up together, squashed into the chair.  I was playing with her
little tits as we kissed, and my cock was oozing pre-cum.  She held it
lightly in her hand.

   'I want to suck you now, Uncle...'

   It was not the most skilled head I had ever been given but you would not
expect that from a twelve-year-old mouthing her first cock, and she was
devastatingly sexy kneeling in front of me as I sat in the armchair, her
blonde hair flowing over my thighsand looking up at me.  I held her head
between my palms feeling how fine and shiny her hair was and thought how
much I had missed by not petting with young girls when I was a boy myself.
Yes, I had plenty of other boys in those days, but how good it would be to
be able to look back in ones memory and recall hairless, plump cunts and
little-girl breasts.  Ophelia was making up for all those missed
opportunities.

   'Am I doing it right, Uncle Max?'

   'That's lovely, darling.  The most sensitive bit is just below the knob,
at the front.  Yes, just there.' She was licking me with her tongue as
about half my shaft slipped in and out of her mouth.  I reached and felt
the back of her neck, and the smooth, silky skin of her shoulders, golden
tanned.  She cradled my balls in her tiny hand, and this was so
stimulating, physically and also psychologically, that I felt my orgasm
building up.  It would not be long now!  When she reached under me to
finger my arse, as she must have seen her sister and mother do so many
times, this was too much and I came, holding her head so she would be
forced to swallow it all.  She did, and without gagging!

   She must have learned too that I am sensitive after coming and her mouth
was still on my cock for a few moments.

   'Chantelle and mother must be terribly bored...'

   'They like being tied up.  they'll be OK.  But do you think we should
cheer them up a bit?'

   'Oh yes, Uncle Max.  I know what they like...'

   I had my hand round Ophelia's waist and she was leaning against me as we
stood over the bed.

   'They'd like to be sucked, I'm sure, Uncle.'

   'Which one do you want, Ophelia.  I'll have the other.'

   'You have Chantelle, Uncle.'

   I went round the bed, and caressed the girl's belly and mound, still in
her panties.  Her bra unclasped at the front, and I undid it so it fell
apart and I could fondle her breasts, still pert and upright despite laying
on her back.  The nipples hardened under my fingers and I rolled them
between thumb and forefinger.  The crotch of her panties was damp.  and
sliding my finger inside I found her cunt was lovely and juicy.  The bows
at the side of her panties were easy, just a pull on the loose ribbon each
side and they were of, laying on the bed under her.  She lay naked, and
open for me.

   Chantelle had always been a lovely piece to suck and I placed my mouth
over her cunt with my usual enthusiasm.  but it was difficult to
concentrate on her while beside me the lovely Ophelia was sucking her
mother off.  This the girl did with all the energy of youth, and it occured
to me that this, her mother's, was very probably the first cunt she had
sucked.  She had not been allowed to join in before, and I believed she had
never been enjoyed by the lesbian Lucy.  She had seen the girls at it often
enough though: laying on top of Sally in the classic position she was
tearing at the open cunt with her lips, tongue and both hands, so
vigorously that the bed was rattling.  I stopped my more sedate sucking to
watch her slender body wriggling and writhing on top of the more pneumatic
breasts and belly, rubbing her cunt against tanned flesh.  Sally's head was
rolling from side to side and I could see the lust in her eyes....good
thing she was gagged, I thought, as she was obviously coming.

   'Mine came.  Did yours?'

   'No.  I was watching you.  It was great.'

   'I'll soon make her come!'

   I made way and Ophelia lay on top of her sister.  I saw thumb and finger
penetrate cunt and arse as I had just been instructed, and then Chantelle's
tanned thighs were bathed in fine blonde hair as her sister went down on
her.  I decided to play with Sally's bum a bit, and undid the ropes on her
legs, turned her over (her wrists were fastened so she could be turned
without releasing them), slipped a pillow under her belly to raise her
arse, retied one leg to the edge of the bed and the other to the centre. 
The pinkness in her flesh from the earlier beating had subsided, and I
stroked the smooth roundness while I watched her daughters play.  Chantelle
was coming, Ophelia as good as her word.

   'Uncle Max...'

   'Yes, Ophelia.'

   'I want to whip them, teach them a lesson for making me wait all these
weeks.'

   'Of course you do, my sweetie.  And you will.  Let's tie Chantelle like
I have her mother.'

   The two naked women lay side by side, arses slightly raised by the
pillows under them, shaven cunts just visible from behind like those
old-fashioned purses people once used.

   I stood one side of the bed, Ophelia the other.  She had chosen the
black leather whip with five leather thongs.  I knew it made a fine
swishing noise without inflicting too much damage on tender flesh; in fact
I had used it on Sally's tits and she had whipped my cock with it.  A good
job she had not chosen one of the other whips because she went at it with
her full strength, taking out on her mother and sister their selfishness in
not allowing her to have sex when they were gorging themselves on my cock
and body and she was forced to watch.  The lash rose and fell, mostly on
her mother's plump buttocks but sometimes she would reach over and for a
volley of slashes at her sister's bottom.  She was so sexy, her slender
body tensing with the strenuous exertion, her little-girl tits stretching
as she raised the whip.  I could see the nipples becoming erect and puffy
as teenage girls do when excited, and her cunt-lips too were openeing just
slightly.  Like her mother, the daughter found whipping a turn-on.

   I went round the bed and stood behind her, close enough for my hard cock
to touch her back.  She giggled and leaned back into me.

   'I knew it would be good.  they have deserved this.'

   The whip swished through the air again and the blow landed across
Chantelle's arse.  I reached round, one hand holding her little breast and
tweaking an erect nipple, the other round her cunt.  I could feel the
juices flowing as I slipped a finger between her hairless lips.

   'Fuck me now, Uncle.  Please.  I want it so much.'

   I judged she was ready, and had her lay across her mother's bottom,
using it as a pillow to raise her hips for me.  She lay there, legs apart,
blue eyes glittering and a smile on her face.

   'Now, Uncle.'

   I lay between her legs, my knob in her crack, and felt her thighs close
on my body, her legs locked behind my back as she must have seen her mother
do to me so often.  I felt between us, grasped my cock and wiped it the
length of her crack, then back to the cunt again, and with a gentle push I
was in her.  She was tight, but there was no pain and we were fucking
immediately.  At first she lay still as I ploughed her and I could see her
eyes were tight closed.  I hoped I was not hurting her: she was sure to be
small up there at "eleven but I'm nearly twelve".  I was reassured as
gradually I felt movement under me, and then her hips were rising to meet
my down-thrusts.  I took my weight on just one elbow and used my free hand
to twirl a puffy little nipple between thumb and forefinger, and now our
bodies were crashing together.  I felt her lips and then her teeth under my
shoulder, and her nails clawing into her back and knew she was coming. 
After the crescendo of her orgasm I slowed down: it had been all I could do
to stop myself from coming as her cunt tightened on my cock, in its
passion.

   All that masturbation, watching the adults having sex, must have
conditioned that first proper-sex orgasm, I guess.

   Her eyes were shining as she looked at me, adoringly I thought.  Very
flattering and very satisfactory.

   I pulled out because I wanted to turn her over and have her from behind.

   'Oh no....'

   She thought I was stopping!  No way!

   Her hips were slender as a boy's, but no boy would have had that lovely
rounded arse, hard still, small still, but already feminine.  I stroked it
and parted the cheeks.  She had a pretty little pink arsehole, and I was
tempted for a moment, but realised this was not the moment to bugger her. I
promised myself that treat when she had got more used to complete sex.  The
pink lips were slightly swollen, and gleamed where they were open from our
fucking.  I placed my knob, and was in her.  The squeal was of sheer
delight as we started to fuck again.  It did not take long, and this time
it was her sister's bottom that got bitten as she came, and I came too,
glad of the sudden release.

   ....................................................

   And so it went on for several delightful weeks.  The girls sucked and
dildoed each other, I had three lovelies to suck and fuck, and sometimes we
played bondage games, myself the "victim" once or twice.  Heaven!

   But then one evening, over dinner and before our usual session, 'I've
had an email from Lucy...'

   'Everything OK I hope between her and her diving girl.  Not broken up or
anything?'

   Sally seemed a bit hesitant, not like her at all.  'No.  Quite the
opposite.  They're going to the States to get married.  Apparently lesbians
can marry some places.  Anyway, they want me to go to California with them
for the marriage, and stay for their honeymoon....'

   'Threesome honeymoon...should be fun.'

   'Foursome.  They want Chantelle to come as well.'

   'Ophelia?'

   'It's not fair...'

   I had not heard that from the little blonde girl for several weeks, but
it answered my question.  Ophelia was not invited.  I assume Lucy had told
her new bride (groom?) how good Sally and her daughter were in the sack,
but not Ophelia.

   I put my arm round the girl's shoulder and whispered in her ear, 'I'll
have you all to myself for weeks, you little angel.  We'll have a great
time without them.'

   That cheered her up.  A lot!

   ...............................................................

   We had dropped Sally and Chantelle off at Gatwick Airport mid-afternoon,
and as soon as we got back to my place it was to bed for some more private
than usual fucking.  They were going to be away for five weeks, the first
of which ophelia would have to go to school, but the last four during the
summer school holidays.

   The edge taken of my lust for her by the first session in bed, we were
sitting in front of my lap-top, Ophelia sitting in my lap wearing just her
cotton school knickers so she did not drip cum everywhere, as she said with
a giggle.

   'I know you want some sexy clothes, like Chantelle, let's have a hunt
round the net.'

   The first we found sounded encouraging, at least because it was being
attacked by prudes: Parents have slammed Kylie Minogue for encouraging
eight-year-olds to buy from her "sexy, lacy, racy" lingerie range.  A
raunchy advertisement for the adult lingerie is featured on the website for
the Love Kylie Princess clothing line, for eight to 16-year-olds.

   We checked it out, Ophelia squirming in my lap as she clicked the
keyboard.  It was, however disappointing: the lingerie may have been adult,
but it was not very sexy, we both agreed.  However there were sites with
links and gradually we had a list of suppliers of kinky clothes for very
young girls.  None were in the UK I noticed!

   It's amazing what you can find on the net now: we chose two of several
we had found specialising in supplying sexy lingerie and outer clothes to
pre-pubescent and barely-pubescent girls.  Apparently there are fashion
shows for these prime jail-bait, mostly in Texas!  Ophelia got quite
excited as we chose and ordered several sets of lingerie, some nighties,
and some very provocative dresses.  Her shoes came from a conventional
internet shoe-shop, but were certainly sexy.  She said there was no need to
get make-up as she would borrow some her mother kept in my bedroom.  'We've
got the same colouring....' I paid a premium for swift delivery.

   Ophelia went off to school every morning, and hurried back in the
afternoon for her first sex of the day.  A meal.  More sex.  some internet
surfing or television.  A shower and then bed for more sex.  The routine
was established, and demanding for me: in fact without viagra I doubt if I
could have stayed the pace despite the added inducement of a pretty little
underage blonde with an ever-growing sexual appetite!

   I kept the new clothes back until everything had been delivered, and the
shoes were the last, the day school ended.  So Saturday morning, the first
of the holidays, we had fun unwrapping the parcels in bed, and then
impromptu fashion parade of some of them.

   I would have thought nothing could be quite as sexy as a simple, naked
girl: but Ophelia soon changed my mind.  She disappeared for about half an
hour, and then I saw the bedroom door open very slightly.  I switched off
the tv.

   'Close your eyes till I tell you...'

   I did as requested.

   'You can look now....'

   A vision of sexuality, a wet dream at eleven on a Saturday morning, a
little angel dressed for heavy sex!  She had selected a skimpy lingerie set
in black satin, tight little trainer bra, flimsy suspender belt, and a
black thong with a nearly transparent panel at the front.  Her stockings
were glossy, black and seamed (I knew they must be Gio because I had
insisted on nothing else) and she had chosen the high heeled gold shoes. 
Over-all was a see-thru black, thigh-length nightie that hid nothing, but
enhanced everything!  The make-up was not great, but I loved the tarty red
lipstick....  I had an instant hard-on.

   'Come here.' I was aware that my voice was an octave lower than usual.

   She laughed.  'You be patient, Uncle Max.  Here's something Chantelle
never did for you.' So even now, after a week of dedicated love-making, it
still rankled that her sister had been having sex with me for ages while
her little sister was forced to watch, and play with her own pussy!

   she put a dvd on, and swiched on the tv.  It was Kylie Minogue, a young
Kylie, and Ophelia knew she compared well with that tiny beauty.  She
danced to the music track for me, imitating Kylie on the film clip, but
with more overtly sexual gestures, touching her pussy, thighs, bottom, and
nascent breasts, I could see her nipples erect and puffy under the tight
satin, and could well imagine the tight nylon thong becoming damp as she
worked herself, and me, up into real heat.  She swayed in a bump and grind
routine, hips jutting forward, arse jutting back, feeling at her tits,
blonde hair flowing over her shoulders.  God!  She was hot!

   'Come here!  '

   She swiched the dvd off and slowly came to the bed where I was propped
up.  As she sat on the bed I grabbed her, glossy nylon sliding under my
palms as I pulled her to me to kiss her.  Her hand went immediately to my
cock: she loved precum, on her fingers or in her mouth.  I had got so used
to the feel of naked flesh against me as we had slept in each other's arms
all week, that it seemed strange to feel her stockinged legs gripping mine
between them, and the nylon of her nightie against my chest.  But stranger
still were the words she whispered into my ear, licking inside it with the
tip of her tongue.
'You never fucked me in the arse, Uncle Max, but you often bugger

Chantelle or mother.'

   'I was frightened of hurting you,my little angel, you're so young and
small.'

   'I'm nearly twelve, and anyway I've had my first period so I'm grown-up
really.' I had not known that.  'And what will we do when I have another
one.  You'll want my bottom then.'

   'Or your mouth, sweetie.'

   'Oh!  I know you.  you'll want to stick it in my bottom.' She giggled
sexily.  'Or at least I hope so.  Anyway, I've been practising with
Chantelle's dildo, and I know it'll be ok.  I know.  Please, Uncle.'

   It was, of course, more fear of damage needing medical treatment and all
the dangerous explanations, rather than fear of hurting her.  But if she
had been "practising", and since she was pleading for it, well, I'm only
human.  I kissed her and felt for her breast, up and under the nightie, and
through the tight satin bra.

   'Ok.  If you're sure....'

   'Like this is best...' she broke away from me and was kneeling, head in
pillow and arse in the air.  'My panties are open crotch.....'

   I knelt behind her and lifted the hem of her nightie, pulling it forward
over her shoulders and head until it covered her lovely blonde hair, still
shining dully through the near-transparent black nylon.  I had covered her
hair but bared her pretty back: I looked down on her so flawless and pure,
with the anomalous black strap of her bra across her back, another line of
black satin for her suspender belt under the thin black thong which itself
divided the roundness of her buttocks, and the black lines of the suspender
straps to the gloss and smoothness of her stockings.  A drop of my precum
fell onto the satin of her thong.  I parted the cheeks of her buttocks, and
sure enough the panties were indeed open crotch.  I had not noticed we had
ordered open-crotch panties, but I'm certain Ophelia was well aware, and
guessed she had been planning back then a week before seducing her wicked
uncle into some anal games!  I pulled the flimsy nylon apart, and there was
her pretty little arsehole.  I knelt to pay homage to it with my lips.

   And my tongue, especially.  She wriggled her arse as I penetrated her
with the pointed tip of my tongue: we had played this game before, and she
loved it, as we all do, of course, but never as a prelude to buggering as
the main event, so I knew I would have to prepare her very carefully.  But
I enjoyed rimming her little-girl, hairless bottom as much as she enjoyed
receiving it, and especially with my face between nylon-clad thighs.  I
found I was running my hands over the soft naked flesh at the
stocking-tops, and sometimes sliding a hand actually inside her stockings.
She was cooing with delight.

   I always keep a bottle of baby oil by the bed, and Ophelia must have
seen me use it often enough to know what would come next as I reached for
it.  In fact when buggering her mother I always just shoved my cock up her,
but with Chantelle I prepared the route with my fingers, as I did with her
sister now.  The oil spilled down her arse-crack, some of it damping the
edges of her split-crotch panties: she would have to wash them now, but
they were probably fairly damp at the front in any case.  Two fingers into
her, up to the first knuckle, and a sharp intake of breath from her, but no
squeal or protest, so I started to stretch and rub her anus.  No need to
search for the wholly-masculine g-spot: her pleasure, if any, would be
simply psychological and not physical as a male would experience, and
indeed as I had known myself since I was not much older than her.  I kissed
her back and stroked her with my free hand as I prepared her anus for my
cock, adding some more slippery oil from time to time.

   'I think I'm ready now, Uncle Max.'

   She was getting bored, kneeling there!  Time to have her, then!

   As I knelt a drop of precum dripped from my knob exactly onto her pretty
rose.  I placed my knob gently against it and gripped her hips, one hand
covering each back suspender strap.  'That feels nice,' she said.  Yes,
indeed!  Just as everyone likes a tongue in their arse, so even virgins
enjoy the light pressure of a knob there, promising to penetrate, but not
yet inside.  We would see what she made of the moment of insertion......  I
pressed hard and felt her flinch beneath my palms as my knob slipped in,
opening her anal muscles and sliding in the baby oil.  She did not scream
or protest as I had feared, but I knew she was biting the pillow (just as I
had all those years ago when Mr Cohen first buggered me, a boy not much
older than this little angel).  I could feel her anus contract and grip my
cock almost painfully tight, about half-way up as I was not yet fully
inserted.  I stayed still a moment or two, caressing her bottom and back,
and whispering soft love-words.  The spasm passed and I slid the rest of my
length up her.  another spasm, not quite as severe, and as she relaxed
again I started to move slowly and gently in and out.

   I was not consciously making this pleasure last, and knew the
combination of a virgin arse-hole, and those sexy panties and bra, blonde
hair and flawless, slender back meant that I would not be long coming, but
to begin with I was working slowly and deliberately.  Then, after a bit, I
was aware she had reached beneath herslf and was pulling and rubbing her
clit with her right hand.  She was beginning to enjoy this: now it was my
duty as the first-seducer, to hold out so that I could come just as she was
bringing herself off.  She started to make the little panting squeaks I had
come to know so well: she was approaching her climax.  I speeded up and
heard her intake of breath, but busy fingers were flying faster and fasted
up and down her crack, and my thighs were crashing into her bottom now.  I
smacked the satin-clad buttocks in time with my fucking and could feel, as
well as hear her coming.  Thank God!  Now I could come, and I crowned her
argasm with my own spurts of hot cum deep inside her.

   Her bottom expelled me after a few moments and we lay side-by side,
cuddling.

   'All right?'

   'Yes.  It hurt a bit at first, but then it was ok.  Not as nice as being
fucked in the pussy, but you can have me there if you want.  Birthdays,
bank-holidays...' she giggled her cheeky little-girl laugh...  'and
whenever Chelsea win!  I know you like it.'

   'My little angel....'

   ........................................................................

   After breakfast we went for a stroll along the promenade and up the
pier. Lots of eyes turned to look at her, innocent and so sexy at the same
time.  She really was a vision, a skimpy cotton top tight over half-formed
breasts, nipples punctuating the pink message on the t-shirt "I'm twelve".
Her belly button was naked, and she wore a pleated tartan mini-skirt that
scarcely covered her bottom: I knew her white satin panties were very
naughty with the message embrodered in red across her pubic mound, "kiss
me" and a red arrow pointing down towards her clit.  Her midriff was still
less tanned than her arms and we would have to be careful she did not burn
in the early summer sun, but her long slender legs were tanned, and sexy in
those white ankle socks and pink trainers.  She kept tossing her blonde
hair, and her eyes were shining with the triumph of having at last become
properly grown-up, fucked in the arse.  I could see the men, especially
those of my age and older, drooling over her, and envying me her company,
hand in hand.  Several looked out of the corner of their eyes, not to alert
the frumpy wives they were with: one or two paid her the compliment of
stopping, turning, and watching her pert little bum.

   Half way up the pier.  'Oh look.  There's Gareth, Chantelle's sort-of
boyfriend.'

   I understood that "sort-of".  Chantelle used to laugh at his timidity:
he had felt her tits and her thighs, but had never even put his hand on her
cunt, let alone fucked her.  Not like her other "friend", Uncle Max.  Yet
he was a good-looking boy, though something of the feminine about his dark,
latin looks, sultry with full, sensual lips, long eye-lashes, and wavy,
very dark hair.  He was sitting on the pier railing (despite the frequent
notices instructing not to!), dressed in those horrible knee-length baggy
khaki shorts teens affect, and an orange shirt with the number nine across
it.  I recognised it as an American football shirt, though there was
nothing less like an athlete than this boy.  He was lanky and slender, legs
fine and long and his tanned arms not muscular at all.  He looked as if he
spent most of his life lazing about in the sun: I thought he was sexy, my
sort of boy.  That surprised me, as normally I thought myself as a guy who
when he wanted some cock looked for the strong, masculine type.  And here I
was, cock twitching for a teenage boy.  Must be all the little-girl sex I
had been having!

   Chantelle had told me he was "only fourteen".

   Ophelia pulled me over to him and introduced us.  'This is my Uncle Max.
I'm staying with him while Mother and Chantelle are on holiday.' There were
explanations about the trip to the States, and chat about the crowded
beach. He seemed a pleasant lad, with a strong London accent, a boy of the
people!  Then I caught Ophelia's eye.  She had noticed my hard-on and knew
what it meant.  'Uncle Max is going to buy some cakes from Panelli's and
we're going back to have tea at his flat.  It would be nice if you could
come with us, Gareth, and have some tea.' She winked at me, the side of her
face he could not see.  I caught her eye and winked back, showing her the
blue diamond-shape pill I held between thumb and forefinger before
swallowing it.  I intended this to be a long and heavy session!

   We moved a table and three chairs out onto my balcony, where we have a
great view of the promenade and beach.  I had bought a great pile of cream
cakes, and there was coca cola and apple juice.  The two children were
wolfing the cakes down, three to my one I shoUld think, and after her
buggering that morning Ophelia was in a cheeky mood, and showing off in
front of Gareth.

   'Look at that girl over there.  Beside the ice-cream kiosk.  She's got
the sort of tits you guys enjoy.' And, indeed, the girl was pretty in her
skimpy bikini bottoms, laying on her back topless, with breasts firm and
upright soaking up the sun.

   'You too, Ophelia,' I said.  'You're quite an expert on girls' tits...'

   'Too right, Uncle Max.  I like tits!  Anyway, if she can sunbathe
topless down there, I can up here.' The tight white top pulled over her
head, and then the velcro fastening on her mini-skirt ripped apart, and she
was in her naughty, shiny knickers.  I could see the shock in Gareth's
eyes, mouth open and astonished.  His eyes were fixed on her little-girl
tits, and I'm sure he had read the invitation printed on her panties.

   'And if Ophelia can, then I can too.' I stood up and undid my belt,
letting my shorts fall to the floor.  I threw my t-shirt down on top of
them and sat down again naked.  'That's better.' I had a half-hard cock,
partly because of Ophelia, and partly because of Gareth.

   Ophelia got up and stood behind Gareth's chair, leaned over him, and
slipped a hand down the wide neck of his shirt.  'Come on, Gareth.  You
too.' My cock stiffened more, and that probably removed his embarassment as
he was stiff too, tenting those dreadful shorts.  I was right.  He really
was sexy, tall, lanky, slender and very boyish.  Tanned with a pretty white
triangle where his speedos had protected him, and the loveliest little
fringe of fine black hair at the base of his belly.  He was cut, about five
inches, a slender shaft but quite a big knob.  Nearly hairless balls. 
Erect, and his cock looked firm and springy, as I like them.  My cock was
now completely hard.

   Ophelia deliberately smeared some cream from a bun on her nipples, first
one and then the other.  'There you are, boys, one each for you.'

   I needed no further encouragement and my mouth was over her breast
immediately, feeling the hard little nut of her nipple between my lips. 
Gareth hesitated, but then he too was sucking and kissing.  I felt her hand
on my cock, and saw she was grasping his.

   'We can't fuck out here, though that would be exciting wouldn't it? 
Let's go inside, Uncle Max.' She led us, a cock in each hand towards my
bedroom.

   It may just be personal vanity, but I had an impression that Gareth was
looking at my complete nakedness at least as much as Ophelia's partial. 
And as for me, I was certainly interested in this pretty, rather effeminate
lad, though as males reading this will be only too aware, we men lust above
all else for new flesh, especially if young, beautiful and forbidden.

   However, I could see the boy's eyes focus on her plump, hairless cunt as
she pulled those knickers down, with their inviting message.

   She pushed him onto the bed, letting go of my prick and leaving me
standing there to watch her crouch over him, hold his nice little cock
upright, and was about to sink herself down on it, when I stopped her.  I
keep some condoms in the bedside table for when I have picked up a stranger
and this seemed a good time to use one, but for a different reason!

   'Don't want any little Gareths or Ophelias!' I enjoyed rolling the latex
down his springy shaft and the squirting a few drops of lube and spreading
it with my hand, masturbating him gently.  'There!  Off you go, Ophelia!'

   He seemed to be shell-shocked: one minute a timid virgin, the next his
cock first handled by a randy male and then completely buried in a pussy.
As my little girl fucked him I sat on the bed beside them and caressed his
legs, tanned and very slender for a boy.  I promised myself I would have
his arse before the afternoon was done.  He was holding her hips now, and
moving up and down slightly, matching her rhythm: I moved up the bed to
play with his nipples, to stroke his hairless chest.  I caught his eye as I
did so, and it was shining with pleasure and excitement.  I lay crouched
beside them and joined my lips to his.  I could feel his surprise for a
moment, but then his mouth was open and my tongue inside it.  Ophelia
ruffled my hair, as she so liked to do.  As we kissed her tempo increased,
and I realised the boy would come soon.  I reached down and tweaked his
nipple, and he was coming, moans and panting muffled by my mouth on his.  I
don't think Ophelia came: probably it was too quick and he was too small.

   Ophelia lifted herself off, and wiped her cunt on her panties (not a
gesture I like in a girl!).  I held his cock, half-hard now, and slid the
condom off.  There was not much cum in it, as you would expect from a
fourteen-year-old, easily hard, but not much cum!.  I lay beside him and
took his knob in my mouth: for a second or two it tasted of the condom's
lubricant, but that passed, and I felt it getting hard again in my mouth as
I swallowed the shaft.  He was past any surprise at what was happening, and
I felt his legs open slightly as I sucked, allowing me to cradle his
near-hairless balls in one hand.

   Ophelia was hugging him and whispering in his ear: his hands were on her
body, not mine.  Her voice was low, but I could hear what they were saying
as I played with his cock.

   'Is that good, having your cock sucked my sweet Gareth?'

   'Mmmmm.'

   'He likes to suck a pretty boy's cock.  Does he suck well?'

   'Mmmmm.'

   I got my face down lower so I could nuzzle his balls with my nose, using
a hand to keep his cock interested, as it were.  I licked at his scrotum,
and took one of the balls into my mouth.

   'And that, having your cock stroked, and your balls licked?'

   His lips were glued to her breast now so there was no reply.

   I bent one leg upwards, holding the firm, warm flesh in one hand and
exposing his anus.  It was hairless of course, nut-brown and prettily
puckered.  I licked it, kissed it, and slid my pointed tongue into him.  I
heard the groan of pleasure, and pushed further in, moving my tongue around
the rim of his anus.

   'I'll bet you like that, Gareth.  He loves rimming a hairless arsehole
and often does mine, but really he's getting you ready to fuck you there.
Do you want that?'

   'It would hurt...' He had not said either "yes" or "no" I noted!

   'It's OK.  He buggered me this morning before we went out.' The
whispering stopped as he digested this statement, and I returned to
cock-sucking.  I expect he was thinking about having my cock up his bottom,
of giving himself to me, and finding the idea exciting, because there is no
doubt his little shaft was even harder, springier, more erect as I bobbed
up and down on it, and his hips were rising and falling in rhythm with me.
I could see him kissing my girl, hands on her tits and belly.  Then he was
coming, just a little spurt of cum, but very pleasant for me, my first
little-boy cum since I was a teen myself!

   ''You'd better suck him off quick, before he decides to fuck you in the
arse!' Her whisper was urgent, and he was laying over me in no time, mouth
on my knob.  I lay propped against the cushions while he sucked and rubbed
at my cock.  As the pleasure increased, so I shut my eyes and relied on my
hands to keep me in touch with him, ruffling his hair and stroking his neck
and shoulders, so smooth and warm.

   At some time Ophelia must have slipped away.  I did not see her go I was
so far gone myself in the pleasure of being sucked by a virgin mouth, and
when I did notice assumed she had gone to the bathroom.

   'Am I doing it right....Uncle Max?'

   'You certainly are.  Don't stop, and be ready for a lot of cum very
soon.' It was getting more and more difficult to control myself, and I
could feel my orgasm rising.  Just at that moment the little angel took my
balls in his hand and squeezed them gently, his other hand rubbing the root
of my cock, and his mouth bobbing up and down frenetically.  It was too
much!  I came.  I heard him gag on the first spurt, but then he was sucking
and swallowing like an old stager.  I opened my eyes, and saw Ophelia was
back, and that she had in fact slipped out to put on some of her new
lingerie, specifically a black satin basque and black silky stockings.  No
panties!

   My cock had become momentarily sensitive and I pulled away from him, at
the same time telling him what a great little cock-sucker he was, and how
you would think he had been doing it all his life he was so good at it.

   Ophelia clambered over me, and lay between us, hugging the boy again and
kissing his neck and ears, Her bum looked as appetising as ever, framed by
black suspender straps, and firm, round, jutting.

   'Hey!  You're hard again, Gareth!  Sucking cock must agree with you.'

   'You look great, Ophelia, dressed like that.  Soooo sexY!'

   'You like sexy lingerie do you, little Gareth?  Bet you'd like to try
the panties on?  Don't deny it!  You'd love to feel the satin on these
little balls, wouldn't you.'

   Reply there was none, which if you think about it was as good as saying
yes!  Anyway, Ophelia climbed over him and went to where she had put an
Asda plastic bag by the door.  She returned and tipped the contents over
his naked body...  lingerie and shoes!

   'I'd love to see you in these, and I'm sure Uncle Max would.'

   'You bet I would!  Put them on Gareth, stockings and suspenders first.'

   He knew what he was doing, fastening the suspender belt at the front and
then pulling it round so the catch was properly at the back.  He knew how
to put stockings on too, putting his hand and arm down inside each before
easing the stocking over his foot.

   'Hey!  You've done that before.' Ophelia had noticed at the same time as
I had.

   I swear he blushed.  'My sister's....'

   'Here let me.' Ophelia pulled him off the bed and as they stood beside
me fastened the rear suspender clips for him.  'Now these' And he stepped
into the matching black french knickers.  'These are all Chantelle's.  I
bet you never thought you would get into them.  I looked at your shoes and
these will fit you.' I recognised them as the silver high heeled slippers I
had bought Ophelia on the net, and they did wonders for his legs.  I
realised his legs, in their tan stockings and high heels, were really
feminine, no longer boyish, and twice as desirable.

   'Don't lick your lips for a minute.  This is long-lasting and kissable.'
She painted his lips and giggled when as an afterthought she decided to
paint his nipples with the dark-red gloss.  'You're like me, you don't need
make-up with your smooth complexion.  But a dab or two of powder....  Now,
go and look at yourself in the mirror.'

   Ophelia joined me back on the bed and we watched the boy walk round the
room, unsteady on his heels at first, but quickly getting used to them.  He
posed in front of the mirror, looking at his bum over his shoulder, running
his hands over his thighs and bottom.  I could see his lip-sticked nipples
hard, and his cock was making a tent in his satin knickers.  With a black
wig he would have been just perfect, but in fact his wavy dark hair could
well have been a feminine coiffure.  He certainly had my cock standing
again, though that was partly Ophelia gently stroking it.

   'Come here!'

   'He wants you again, Gareth.  I'll call you Gwen now.  He wants you
again, Gwen, in your sexy lingerie.'

   The boy seemed much more confident and assured as Gwen than he had as
Gareth, and even flirted, holding my cock and commenting that I was hard
again.  I kissed those full lips, now feminised and dark red.  Ophelia was
stroking his bottom.  'Lovely!  Lovely silky bottom!'

   'I always knew you had a lesbian side, Ophelia.'

   'You never knew Lucy, did you, Uncle Max.  She was lovely!  But I wasn't
allowed to touch.'

   'Not fair', you used to say.

   'Too right!  You going to fuck Gwen, Uncle?'

   'I'd certainly like too.'

   'Look at this.  Lovely.' She pulled the waistband of his panties down to
make his buttocks naked.  'Tempting?  You want Uncle Max to fuck you,
Gareth, I mean Gwen?'

   'Be gentle.  I'm a bit afraid.'

   Ophelia was already spreading baby oil in his crack, pulling the
knickers right down to his ankles.

   'He can be gentle if he wants too, but I bet you'll be begging him to do
it harder, faster, before you're very much older.  I know!'

   Of course Ophelia did not really know the half of it.  She had seen me
bugger her mother and sister, and felt the cock in the arsehole herself, of
course, but had never seen a male receiving it, getting the prostate
massaged, coming with the pleasure.  Perhaps she would now.  I hoped so,
but I would soon find out!  His buttocks gleamed with the oil, and as she
pulled them apart for me, I could see the arsehole glistening too.  Ophelia
lay her head on the pillow beside him and kissed him, holding his head.

   Any scream of pain there might have been was effectively muffled by my
little girl's kiss, which is why she had fastened her lips to his, I guess.
He was tight and his anus contacted on my cock as soon as my knob was in
him.  I waited a second or two and took advantage of the equally
involuntary relaxation of his anal muscle to win a few more inches until my
cock was fully inserted and my thighs resting on that smooth, hard little
bottom.  Now he was able to break away from Ophelia's embrace and the
protests started.

   Ophelia got up and put some loud music on the player, drowning out most
of his shouting while I ploughed on, a lovely, tight fuck.  The yells
gradually became hopeless sobs, head buried in the pillow, and in any case
I had decided to take no notice.  He had fucked my little girl, and now he
was going to pay for it with his own delightful body.

   Ophelia sat on the bed beside us watching, and obviously finding the
show exciting as she was happily masturbating, two handed, one with fingers
up her cunt, the other rubbing and pulling at her clit.

   The sobs stopped, and became little squeals: I had woken up his "g-spot"
as I had hoped.  I reached under him and found his cock hard again, so I
felt free to fuck harder and faster, in the increasing urgency of my lust.
I let go his cock, and instead held onto his balls, using them to control
his moements under me, as a horse-rider uses the reins.  As I did so I felt
his hand beside mine, rubbing at his cock while I fucked him.

   This was better.  Ideal, in fact, but I wanted to see his face, and to
see his cock as he came, because I was sure now that he would.  I pulled
out and quickly flipped him over onto his back, ignoring his protests at
the loss of my cock.  I bent his legs up over his head, and easily now
inserted my cock again.  He had his eyes open and they were gleaming, but
he shut them as I pushed my cock home, and re-started our rhythm.  His
little hand flew up and down the shaft of his cock between us.  I supported
myself on one elbow and reached for his nipple, twisting it hard as I felt
my cum rising inside my balls, arse and finally cock.  He came, a thin jet
of cum over his belly and chest, and then I came too, a real big orgasm,
emptying myself into him, and feeling my cock suddenly looser with the
added lubrication.  I collapsed on top of him and kissed him, feeling his
arse milking the last drops of cum from me.

   ..........................................................

   When we had cleaned up, we went out into the sun on the balcony again,
me naked, and the two children in their luxurious lingerie.  I had been
amused to see the boy dab his face with the powder puff, and re-outline his
lipstick, really entering into the feminine role, truly "Gwen".

   With the bottles of cold soft drinks and some cakes, I had brought some
more essential supplies, laying openly on the table in front of us and an
invitation to further frolics: a few condoms and the baby oil!

   I can't tell you how contented and pleased with the world I felt,
basking naked in the afternoon sun, with two pretty children for company, a
girl who despite her tender years was something of a nympho, happy to
accept my cock in mouth, pussy or arse-hole, and a pretty boy who seemed to
have found a lease of life dressed in his sexy girlie-clothes.  They
chatted happily about music, films, clothes, make-up, as young girls will,
while I smoked a cigar as a special treat and looked at their pretty faces
and bodies.

   Ophelia got up, stretched, turned her back to us and leaned on the
balcony rail.  Anyone looking upwards would have had a view of a lovely
little naked cunt, the mound and lips hairless, framed by the straps of her
suspenders.  Gareth and I had the even more delightful view of a rounded
naked bottom, legs slightly apart, her cunt crease glistening still from
the earlier oil and cum.  It had its effect on both of us: I felt my cock
stiffen (ah...viagra) and I saw Gareth's cock standing, making a tent again
in his silk french knickers.  He stood up, and stood behind the girl.

   'Hey!  Don't forget a condom!' That was me being careful!

   'Not where I'm going to fuck her.  It's my turn now for some arse.' He
reached for the baby oil and I watched as he dropped his panties to his
ankles, stepped out of them, and oiled his cock, shining in the sunlight.
She wriggled her bottom, invitingly, and after a couple of attempts he was
in her.  I watched his arse close and open, close and open as he fucked
her. The two of them were looking down on the crowded promenade: no-one
looked upwards, I guess.

   'Why not?' I thought.  And I greased my cock again as well.  This time
it was easier to penetrate, and there was less drama.  I think it hurt a
little still, as I felt him flinch as my flared knob passed thge portals,
but then we were fucking in time with each other, him sandwiched between
Uncle Max and little Ophelia.

   Below there was brass band music, and along the promenade came the
Salvation Army Band.  We fucked to the beating of the Bass Drum, and I
blessed these disciples of the religion of love, as I came in a tight
little bottom-hole.  Ain't life grand?

  
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