My Friends the Allens -- Pat Considers by Mark Aster = = = Note: this story contains graphic accounts of sexual relations between consenting adults. If you are a minor, a U.S. Senator, or anyone else whose brain implodes when exposed to such things, stop reading now, and go take a cold shower. = = = The guests, including Tina and Owen and their kids, are gone, and I've been helping Pat and Julie clean up the suite. Finally all the dishes are disposed of, the furniture straightened, broken Power Ranger dolls tossed into the "belongs to other people" box in the kitchen. It's amazing how much of a mess two kids can make. Pat sits down on the couch across from me. She smiles, and her eyes are startling and soft. Their usual fires are banked, their usual challenge muted. She looks younger, more vulnerable. I've been privileged to see her like this a few times, and it does something to my heart. In a way she looks more like Julie, her younger sister. But in a way she looks even more like Pat. "So," she says, "do you think it'd be fun to have a baby?" Eventually, I pick myself up off the floor. "Patricia," I say, "in my frequent prayers of thanks for having been born male, one of the major elements is gratitude that I will never experience pregnancy or labor. So, I would say, no, it would NOT be fun to have a baby." Geez! She grins at me. I admire her face, her hair, her body. She is wearing worn jeans, a "Devour Authority" t-shirt, and a denim overshirt. She smells wonderful. "Silly! Do you think it'd be fun if I had a baby?" Think of something to say. Think of something to say! I can't think of anything to say. "Uhh... You mean like Valerie?" Valerie, a.k.a. the Hellion, is the six-year-old daughter of a childhood friend of Pat's. She has been known to make the most eager of future fathers seriously consider the priesthood. "Yeah, like Valerie," says Pat, ignoring my point, "she's a sweetheart." I go back to sitting in anguished silence. "You're cute when you're nervous!" she declares, and holds out her hands. "Come over here," she says in her best fake Gypsy accent, "vee make ze Beast with Two Backs, and zhou relax, eh?" I'm easy. I let her seduce me. We cuddle and neck on the couch. Her lips are full and sweet, and her hands gentle. We slip each other's clothes off, and press our bodies together. I take her heavy breasts in my hands and kiss them, moving my tongue across her stiffening nipples. Julie passes through on her way up the stairs, and makes some friendly obscene remark. I kiss the bare skin at Pat's waist, making love to the pink dent from her panty waistband with my tongue. She spreads her thighs, and her pussy opens to me. I spread her lips with my fingers and run my tongue over her slit. She purrs and fluffs my hair. Then I am up over her, and her hands are on my body, urging me down onto her. I stroke her breasts and kiss her, and rub my swollen cock up and down her slit, moistening us with her juices. She guides me to her opening with one hand. "Um," I say, struck by a sudden thought, "you're not fertile or anything, are you?" She laughs and thrusts with her hips, engulfing me. "If I get my contras reversed, you'll AHHHH you'll be the first to know." I slide into her, out of her, I kiss her mouth as I swell and harden inside her. Her hands play over my back, tightening as she gasps, loosening and caressing as she moans. "If I do -- OH god -- if I do someday -- AHHHhhh -- want a baby, would you -- OH you OH -- like to be the father?" I stop, my cock sliding to a halt deep inside her, my lips by her ear. I kiss her earlobe. This is not a situation that I'm used to thinking in. Do I want to father her children? Hell, this is PAT! "Do you need an answer right now, ma'am?" I whisper back. She laughs, and softly we begin to move again. I raise myself up, sliding my shaft firmly up and down her clit. Her lips open. I kiss her mouth as I feel her beginning to come. "AhhhhHH!" she moans, "Ahhhh it's good, uuuuhhhhNNN!" She rocks her hips and strokes herself up and down under me. I let myself go, fucking her urgently and deeply, about to come myself. "Ahhh, AHHH, I LOVE you!" And we come together there on the white couch, hotly and noisily, our bodies sweaty and naked. We collapse together in a heap. We kiss lightly, mouths closed, lip to lip. A whisper. "I love you, too." Later. Julie is in the bedroom, in a thin purple camisole, brushing out her hair in front of the mirror. I walk up behind her and put my hands on her shoulders. "Little Sister," I say to her. She picks up one of my hands and lightly kisses the fingers. "Why do I like it so much when you call me that?" she asks, looking up at me. I sit down in the other chair, next to her. "You know Pat is talking about having a baby?" I ask. She looks at me and smiles, her face happy but a little frightened, like a girl the day of her first date. "Yeah," she says, and comes and sits in my lap, straddling me, her small breasts poking softly at me under the silk. "I think it's neat. And you know she's thinking of YOU for father." She taps my chest with one forefinger; her other hand strokes my side idly, erotically. "Do you know WHEN she's planning the happy event?" I ask lightly, or hopefully lightly, moving my palm up her stomach and under her right breast, gently outlining the small covered nipple. "Oh, probably not right away," she answers, "We Allens always plan in advance." She leans forward and kisses my neck, her tongue playing deliciously over my skin. I sigh and settle back in the chair. "Would I marry her?" The thought makes my throat tight. Julie's lips on my skin are soft and eager, electrifying. "That'd be optional, I think. Of course," and she raises her head from my neck to look me straight in the eyes, "you would hang around to help bring up the kid in any case. Or we'd have to hunt you down and kill you." She kisses my mouth lightly, and begins unbuttoning my shirt. I put one thumb on each of her nipples through the camisole, and press gently. Her skin is warm and enticing. She slips my shirt back over my shoulders, and licks my nipples. Her hands stroke my chest and stomach. She slides her fingers down, rubbing just under the edge of my pants, and then sliding down outside to press my swelling cock. The camisole has ridden up her hips, and her pussy, moist and tender, peeks out from under it. I put my hands behind her and rub her ass. "If I give Pat a child, do I still get to boff her little sister?" I ask, as she undoes my pants and frees my cock. "Oh, yes," she breathes, "oh definitely yes!" She kneels between my knees and opens her soft mouth. Her tongue touches me, tickles the head of my cock, as her soft hands stroke me to an aching erection. A hot tear leaks from my penis, and she licks it off. Humming to herself, she parts her lips and takes me inside her, her lips tightening and loosening around me as she sucks. I caress her shoulders and gasp. Julie's head moves insistently over my lap; the fingers of one hand are around the base of the shaft, squeezing gently. Every squeeze sends hot spikes of pleasure through me. Her other hand soothes and teases my balls. I throw my head back and groan, my eyes closed. I am incredibly hard and throbbing; it can't last long. "I -- I'm going to come." "Yep," says Julie, raising her mouth from me and pumping with her warm hand, "that's the idea." She giggles softly and takes me in her mouth again, her lips sliding over every aching ridge and vein. Her tongue slides ardently over the thin skin below the head, and I come explosively in her mouth, clutching at her soft shoulders and groaning. She pulls me out at the last minute, and the last stream of cum wets her cheek and the side of her nose. She kisses my limp penis, and sits on my knee. "See?" she says, wiping a bit of my semen from her cheek and holding up her finger, "Millions and millions of potential little babies. Think about it." And looking me in the eyes she wipes her finger across her lips, my cum shining on her hot pink mouth. So I think about it. For the next few days, I think about it a lot. I watch Pat, I listen to her voice, I admire her curves. I talk to the girls, I call Aunt Kate in Massachusetts. I even talk to Jake about it. He just laughs. "I dunno! You ready to be assimilated into the Allen Group Mind, man?" I dunno. The girls make it clear that whatever I decide won't change some of the important details of our relationship. "The Secret Masters bred monogamy out of our gene-line sometime back in the early 1800's," says Julie. So can I take the idea of Pat having other men after having a child with me? I think so; the idea of Pat fucking other men appeals to me, as usual. Maybe the Secret Masters got to my ancestors also. Then I think of Pat having a CHILD by another man, and something ancient and dangerous stirs inside me. Interesting. Am I ready for a kid in my life? Is anyone ever ready for that kind of change? Probably not. But I probably never WILL be ready, and it'd be a shame not to continue the old gene-line. Sometimes you just have to decide, knowing that you don't have enough data, and that you'll never know for sure if you were right. I go to the hotel early one morning, and let myself into the Allens' suite. Julie is reading in the livingroom; seeing the determination in my eyes, she resists the temptation to seduce me. "Her Majesty is still in bed," she says, nodding towards the bedroom. I chew lightly on my lower lip, take off my clothes, and softly open the door. As I walk into the warm room, my cock slowly rises before me like a flagpole. Pat is awake; she sits up naked in the bed as I come in. "Pat, if and when you decide you want a child, if you're still interested in my being the father, I would be happy and honored to impregnate you, and help you and your crazy relatives bring up the result." I open my eyes. Pat is smiling at me, a huge childish smile, and her eyes are bright. She pats the bed, and I sit down beside her. She puts her arms around me, and she whispers in my ear. "That's probably the sweetest and sexiest thing anyone's ever said to me." Her body is solid and warm. We lie under the covers together and neck. Our mouths linger on each other, our tongues dance. She runs her fingers through my hair. "So," I ask, as she kisses my neck and my ears, "when is the Big Step?" She purrs. "Oh, sometime in the next two or three years; I'll let you know." My heart does things in my chest; it must show on my face. She draws slightly away from me and looks me in the eyes. My heart settles down. "Are you relieved or disappointed?" she asks softly. "Yep, absolutely," I reply. I take her head in both hands and kiss her deeply on the mouth, sliding my tongue between her lips, and roll over toward her, one leg between her thighs, my cock leaving a trail of tears on her skin. She moans and scratches my back with her fingernails. Am I glad she doesn't want a baby this week? Am I sorry? I tell my mind to shut up, and go back to making love. We wrestle amorously, skin to skin, laughing and panting. She pins me, rolling over onto me, her big firm breasts hanging by my face. I kiss them and nibble her nipples as she spreads her thighs over my cock and wriggles her hips. I kiss her mouth and stroke her magnificent ass. There's something different about fucking a woman that you know you may someday make a baby with. Her body is amazingly real, terribly concrete. Every molecule of her warm gasping body seems connected so intensely to the world. As your fingers sink into the flesh at her hips, it's like holding the universe, fucking some vast primal force. Her face as she comes is so beautiful it tears at your heart. My own orgasm, thrusting and shooting my semen into Pat's womb, screaming with delight and helplessness, is incredible. Her body swallows me up entirely as I come, and shout, and cry. I'm looking forward to the real thing... My Friends the Allens -- Pat Considers by Mark Aster The End