Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: Zorlond
Title: Survival of the Excellent
Part: Chapter 06
Summary: A new planet, a new start...  and a species that seems to be
built for sex.
Keywords: HMF, HMg, Hg, nc, futa, futanari, oral, piv, inc, exhib, ped,
loli, lac, breast size, penis size, SciFi



   "Ian, take over here," Pat ordered him.  As he kneeled down behind
Karen's spasming body, Pat got up, rushing to Christine's side.  Placing
fingers gently against her daughter's neck, Pat felt for a pulse...  There.
And there.  Weak, but her heart still beat.  Placing ear near mouth, Pat
listened and felt for her breath.  And felt none.

   Moving quickly, Pat pulled Christine from her seat and lay her down as
well.  Pinching Christine's nose, Pat leaned over and firmly blew right
into her mouth.  Two slow breaths, then straightening up to watch
Christine's chest fall.  It rose slightly, then fell further.  Pat leaned
back down and breathed into Christine's mouth again, coming up and checking
for that pulse.  It was still there, and a little better now.  But
Christine still seemed unable to breathe.

   Pat looked up at Beth, still standing aside with the children.  "Get
them out of here.  Now." Her main concern was reducing the number of bodies
in the room, with a side of not having small kids watch someone die...  No,
Pat wasn't going to think that way.  They were going to live.  Both of
them.

   Beth simply nodded and quickly led Sandy and Mary outside, as Pat
continued to breathe for Christine.  Looking into Christine's eyes, Pat
couldn't make out any awareness.  No eye movement, no blinking.  It didn't
even look like her pupils were reacting.  Pat double-checked for a pulse at
Christine's wrist.  Still there, still thready.  It definitely wasn't an
echo of Pat's own heart, beating hard and fast from the stress of two
daughters in dire straits.

   "Is she o-URPH!" Ian jerked as Karen's flailing arm caught him right
across the mouth.  Shaking his head to clear it, Ian spat out a bit of
blood and asked again, "Is Christine okay?"

   Pat gave Christine another few breaths before answering.  "She's
paralyzed.  She can't breathe on her own, but her heart's still beating. 
As long as she keeps getting breath, she'll stay alive."

   Ian deflected Karen's arm as it swung his way again, letting it bounce
off his palm.  "And how long until she can breathe on her own?"

   Pat shook her head.  "We're completely in the dark, here." Another few
breaths.  "Could be minutes, could be days...  Could be permanent." Pat and
Ian shared a dark look, before both turned their attentions back to their
respective patients.

   Year 12, Month 2, Day 3

   Dawn broke.  Pat looked out the window, colors streaked across the sky
behind the scattered clouds.  Off in the distance, the trees danced in the
gentle breeze.  So peaceful.  And so uncaring.  Pat turned away to check on
Christine again.  Fingers to her neck for her pulse, then lightly on her
lips for her breath.

   "How is she?" The words were the first that had been said since last
night.  Pat looked over to Ian, who was vigilant next to Karen's form.

   "She's breathing on her own, now." Pat lifted an eyelid to check the
iris.  "Still paralyzed.  No pupil reaction yet." She closed Christine's
eyelid again to keep the eye moist.  "For all I know, she could be asleep
right now."

   Ian nodded.  "Karen's calmed down a lot.  Still twitching, but nothing
big for hours.  Still muttering gibberish."

   Pat sighed, sitting with her back to the wall.  "At least she stopped
shouting." She closed her eyes and ran a hand over her stomach, under her
shirt.  The corner of her mouth twitched.  "How are your needs?"

   "I'm not thinking about them." Pat opened her eyes again to look at Ian.
"Far as I'm concerned, my needs come a very distant third right now."

   Pat frowned.  "Even so, you should..."

   Ian glared at Pat.  "Should what?  Go jack off while my sister and
mother are ill?  Possibly even permanently invalid?  I don't care what my
cock wants right now.  I'm staying here." His declaration done, he turned
his eyes back to Karen, gently setting a hand against her cheek.  Pat
stared at him for a little while, before standing up and walking over to
him.  As she came close, Ian stood up, turning to look her in the eye,
staring her down.  "What?  You going to throw me out until I..?" That was
as far as he got before Pat jabbed two fingers into him, at a spot halfway
between belly button and dick.

   Ian grunted in pain, staggering back, bent over, hand coming up to
shield himself from Pat's assault.  She stood there as he gave ground,
catching his breath.  "It hurts, doesn't it?" she said.  "Me too." She
indicated the same spot on her own belly, where a skilled eye could tell
was just ever so slightly swollen outwards.  "We haven't had a solid cum
since yesterday.  We didn't even get a chance to fuck last night before
dinner."

   "I can...  go longer," Ian grunted, straightening up.  "I will." His
teeth ground against each other, brow furrowed with determination.

   Pat sighed, closing her eyes.  "You misunderstand.  I applaud your
dedication to the well-being of others, even to the point of ignoring your
own needs." She opened her eyes to look into his.  "But our bodies don't
care.  They make fresh cum constantly.  Cum that must be released.  If we
don't..." She set a hand on her belly.  "It's been only half a day, and it
already aches.  Stings, if we prod it.  The longer we go without, the worse
it will become.  We have a day, maybe a day and a half, before it becomes
too much.  Before our insides give way."

   "Then I wait."

   Pat frowned.  "And what about them?" She jabbed a finger at Christine
and Karen.  "Their bodies are the same as ours.  Here..." Pat knelt down
next to Karen's body.  Keeping a wary eye on her limbs, Pat gently touched
her lower belly.  After a few moments, she said, "Here.  Touch her here,
softly." Ian, his brow furrowed with concern, crouched to gently probe at
her belly.  "You feel that?" Pat asked him.  "That lump that seems to
resist your touch?  She needs release as well.  So will Christine."

   Ian just thought, his fingers still softly probing at the mass within
Karen.  "But...  They can't move."

   Pat shrugged.  "Their bodies don't care.  And they can't care for
themselves, right now."

   Ian thought of this for a while, before an ill look passed over his
face. "You don't mean..." Pat just nodded.  "...  This feels very wrong."

   "And I don't disagree.  But we must." Standing up once again, Pat walked
over to inspect Christine, verifying that she, too, was in need of release.
"The only alternative is hope they recover before nightfall.  We have no
way of knowing if they will.  And even if they do, the act of sex itself
will hurt, perhaps too much to complete.  Don't you understand?  They could
die while we wait for them to recover from what they ate.  From something
that we could easily cure."

   Silence hung in the air for a while, until Ian asked, "What if they
don't respond?  What if we can't make them cum?"

   "It's possible," Pat said.  "But we must try.  They need us to try."

   It was a long silence after that.  Slow minutes ticked by, as Ian just
looked at where Karen lay, her body jerking at random, nonsense sounds
slipping past her lips, eyes uncomprehending as they looked around
randomly. She was at her most non-sexual state, so vulnerable and helpless.
But Ian could feel the pressure within her, a pressure that was painfully
matched in his own body.  He knew that if Karen could feel, she would be in
pain as well, a deep throbbing ache that never relented.

   Eventually, Ian reached out to touch Karen's knees, slowly but firmly
spreading them apart.  Karen rolled onto her back as her legs were spread.
Ian lifted her skirt, setting it aside to bare her pussy.  Bracing her
still-twitching legs with his elbows, Ian got his hand in there to probe at
her insides.

   Hoping that Ian would have it in him to keep going, Pat turned her
attention to Christine, lifting her legs up towards her shoulders.

   At about noon, there was a knock at the door, before it opened to allow
Beth to enter.  "Hey," she said, in greeting.  "I brought lunch.  Wasn't
sure if you've eaten anything since...  well." Beth just came in, a couple
plates of food in her hands.  She set them down on the first flat surface
she came to, a dresser near the back wall.  Turning back to the center of
the room, she asked, "So, how are they doing?"

   "Urk...  Better...  I think...  ah!" Ian grunted.  He was kneeling
between Karen's legs, his face scrunched up in pain.  His cock was halfway
into Karen's pussy, both cock and pussy visibly throbbing as mixed cum
leaked out of her pussy around his arm-thick cock.  Right up against his
back, Pat pressed her tits against him, hard nipples tickling his shoulder
blades as she licked openly at his neck and jawline, a hand down on his
cock and actively stroking the exposed half.  Her hips also pressed against
his, her cock flaccid and uninvolved, pushing his cock in and out of Karen.
Ian's face was tightened in pain as his orgasm continued.

   "They are doing a bit better," Pat told Beth, not slowing her efforts
with Ian.  "Although your brother needed some help of his own.  I hope this
will convince you not to go this long without release again," she told Ian
right into his ear, not slowing her hips or hand.  She knew that his pain
came from within, as glandular valves, already aching from struggling
against too much pressure, turned into white-hot needles as they struggled
to open, fluids cutting like razors at the valve as they passed at high
speed.  Preferable to rupture and internal bleeding, but still...

   Beth, taking full note of the pain her brother felt, but trusting Pat to
know what she was doing, just nodded, going over to Christine to check on
her.  Her breathing seemed steady, and Beth could tell her needs had
already been dealt with.  "Alright.  I'll keep taking care of the kids. 
Unless one of you would like to take a break?"

   "Maybe in a bit," Pat told her.

   Year 12, Month 2, Day 4

   Pat sat on the log bench outside, casually watching the afternoon.  The
breeze felt nice.  She could smell a bit of mung on that breeze.  At that
moment, she didn't really mind that it smelled like a couple of them had
just farted her way.  She almost didn't register when Ian sat down next to
her.

   They sat in silence for a while, until he finally spoke.  "How do you do
it?" When she looked at him, face still blank, he continued, "Have sex,
with both of them..." He let the words trail off.

   Pat thought about it for a while before answering.  When she did, her
voice sounded different to Ian's ears.  More distant.  "I do because they
need me to.  When you're as old as I am, you learn that in situations like
this, you're giving them comfort.  You're easing one source of pain and
keeping it from getting any worse.  If they could, they would ask you to do
it.  And they would be glad when you did.  Didn't you feel better after
finally releasing after so many hours of nothing?" Ian thought about that,
then slowly nodded.  "They would feel better, too."

   They sat there, staring at the trees in the distance, until Ian
volunteered.  "I'm not sure I can do this again.  Without your help, I
mean. I just...  I just can't get it up like you can, for them."

   Pat nodded, remembering how Ian had needed her aid to even get started,
then more to stay up long enough for release.  "Not everyone can.  I
understand.  I can handle both of them, if you prefer..."

   "No, I want to help.  Just...  help me get started." Ian said.  He
paused, then added, "Though I dearly hope we'll never need to do this
again.

   Pat sighed, "Given enough time, we always..."

   "Pat!  Ian!" The door to the house slammed open as Beth half-stepped
out. "She's waking up!" Pat's words, unfinished, were trampled as they
rushed into the house.  Beth, leading the way, hurried to where Karen lay.

   Pat could see Karen's eyes.  Her pupils were normal and focusing on
faces as they hurried up.  She opened her mouth, mouthing a word, trying to
get breath behind it.  "Wa...w..." She cleared her throat before trying
again.  "Water..."

   Ian immediately rushed to fulfill her request, grabbing wooden cup to
fill from a pitcher kept nearby.  As he did, Pat told her, "Glad you're
back with us, Karen." Pat helped Karen sit up as Ian brought the cup of
water to her lips, slow sips of precious liquid flowing down her throat. 
When she'd had her fill, they eased her back down.

   "How long was I cloud?" Karen's face twitched, looking angry at her own
misbehaving mouth for a moment.  "...out?"

   "Almost two days," Ian gently told her.  "And sounds like that fruit
hasn't quite let go of you yet." He leaned over to carefully hug his
sister. "I am so, so sorry...  I gave you the fruit, I shouldn't have..."

   "You didn't know...  Tee fall didn't know." Karen let the slip go, as
Beth and Pat joined in the hug, all in a warm, close pile of relief.  To be
interrupted as Karen saw the other still form across the way.  "Christine?"

   As the group hug released, Ian told her, "She...  She stopped moving. 
Paralyzed.  She's been out as long as you have."

   "She's still breathing on her own, though," Pat said, going over to
check on her.  "I have hope she'll recover, as you have, Karen."

   "I..." Karen paused, clearing her throat again.  "I..."

   "Shh," Ian told her, quickly refilling the cup with more water.  "Here,
drink.  Get your strength back.  We can wait for Christine together, now."

   Silently, Pat figured Ian would find it much easier to help Karen now.

   Year 16, Month 22, day 27

   Pat walked slowly between neat rows of very leafy cheese fruit bushes,
almost chest high.  The edges of the leaves were turning yellow, a warning
sign of the approaching winter.  Today would be the last good day to
harvest this year.  Pat tugged her munghair jacket a little closer to ward
off the wind, the material creaking slightly against the swell of her
massive breasts.  Soon enough they'll have to break out the winter wear,
long fur cloaks and heavy shoes.  Pat raised her head and looked around the
field, trying to locate her quarry.  A slight sound turned her head, and
she continued down her row, eventually pushing across the rows to approach
the sound.  And there she found the one she was looking for.

   Ian was bent completely over, holding himself up on hands with his legs
almost completely straight.  Under him, on elbows and knees, was a young
redheaded excel girl, nearly four and a half in age.  Both moaned loudly as
Ian rammed his hips into hers, cock and pussy making loud wet squelches,
both clearly already in a midst of a massive orgasm.

   Ian looked up as Pat pushed through the bushes in front of him, smiling
at her, not even slowing his thrusts.  "Hey, Pat"

   The girl under Ian turned her head, sinking to press her cheek into the
dirt under her.  "Hi Gramma Pat!" she offered, eye twitching as her
greeting devolved into a lustful moan.  "Oh fuck me harder, daddy..."
Behind the fucking pair, Pat could see another girl sitting not far away,
shirt open wide to expose her breasts, already huge for her mere four and a
half years, carefully cradling a swaddled baby to a broad nipple to feed.
Next to her another baby was laid down, a trace of white on it's lips
speaking of a meal already consumed.  The young mother's face and hair was
an exact copy of the girl now getting hammered by Ian.  Twins, born of
Karen, and both already mothers.

   "Heya," Pat told them, crouching down before neatly setting her knees on
the ground.  "I was told you wanted to see me?"

   Ian nodded, straightening up and setting his own knees down, still
fucking away.  Squirts of cum occasionally splattered his stomach as he set
his hands on the girl's slim hips to steady the screwing.  Pat could hear
the wet splattering of overflowing spunk on the farmed ground.  "Yeah, I
wanted to talk with you about something," he said.  "About our plans for
the future." As he spoke, the little girl, getting back up on her hands,
reached out for Pat's skirt and casually tossed it aside, revealing Pat's
veined cock.  Licking her lips like she had just been shown a feast, the
girl started to stroke and lick and Pat's cock, which grew hard under her
efforts.

   "You have something in mind, I take it?" Pat asked, shifting her legs
apart a little to allow the girl more room.

   Ian nodded.  "Our tools are what I'm concerned about." He reached under
a nearby bush and lifted up a crude sickle.  It was merely a rock that had
been crudely broken to an edge and firmly tied to the end of a stick. 
"Seeing one of these, and setting it down next to one of your knives, it's
hard not to see the enormous differences.  It's not that I'm complaining,
these tools do work.  But the knives work...  almost indescribably better."

   Pat sighed, setting a hand down on the top of the girl's head, her other
hand on her cock.  The girl, eager for what was coming, braced herself on
both hands, mouth smiling wide open and tongue lolling out past her chin.
Pat set her cockhead onto that tongue and used it to slowly slide into the
girl's mouth, cheeks bulging with the girth, and down into her stretching
throat.  A good third of her cock slid it's way down that tight, wet hole.
Pat started fucking her granddaughter's throat as Ian continued to pour his
cum into the girl's sopping wet pussy.  The girl's tits, hanging so low and
heavy with sheer size and mother's milk, dragged their nipples across the
ground as she was sent back and forth on the two cocks.  Pat raised a hand
to undo her jacket and get to squeezing at her bared tits, trying to catch
up with the pair.  "That may be," Pat said casually, "But the obvious
answer would be to seek out metals to refine and shape."

   "Surely there are such metals around?" Ian asked her.

   Pat shrugged, her tongue licking at her lips briefly.  As she fucked the
girl's throat, big dollops of drool leaked out her tight mouth to drip onto
the ground below.  "Probably somewhere, yes.  This brings up two relevant
questions.  What kind of metal, and how far away is it?" Pat pushed a
little deeper, eliciting another pleased moan from the girl's throat. 
"Given our situation, we might not be able to make even one tool.  It may
be too far away, or be a type of metal requiring the total effort of
hundreds, if not thousands, of people."

   Ian took those words into thought, his cock continuing to throb it's
load.  "Well, do you agree it's important to consider?"

   Pat nodded.  "We'll have to go that way eventually," she told him.  Her
mind wandered back to the last time she'd inspected her old knives.  Even
carefully cared for as they were, with ever passing season they resembled
knives less and less, and more like saws.  Near-daily use and wear would
eventually turn them into useless shards of alien steel.  "I'll think it
over.  But it certainly won't happen soon.  This will be a big undertaking,
and we can't support one right now.  Winter's coming, after all."

   Ian sighed as his orgasm faded away, pulling his cock free of the girl,
having to take half a step back before the crown of his cock passed her
nether lips, resulting in a substantial squirt of mixed cum from her pussy.
"Yeah, I figured this would be next summer at the earliest.  Still wanted
to get the idea in your head." Turning his focus to the little girl now
slowly dragging her lips across Pat's cock to free her throat, he said,
"Now how about we get back to work harvesting, hmm?"

   The just-thoroughly fucked redhead patted a tummy puffed out a little
bit with a fresh load of hot sperm, smiling as she answered, "Okay, daddy."
She kissed him quickly on the cheek before tying her shirt back up to get
back to work.

   "But what about me, daddy?" asked the girl's identical twin, just
setting down the baby she'd been breast feeding.

   Pat interrupted, waving to Ian, "Go get to work.  I haven't cum yet, and
you've got most of a field to gather.  I can take care of her."

   Ian considered this, then looked to his horny little girl.  "Okay if
Grandma Pat fucks you instead, sweetie?" The girl pretended to consider it,
then happily agreed.  With that covered, Ian and one twin returned to work,
as Pat got the other twin on hands and knees, she silently marveled at how
big the girl's tits had gotten, very visible on both sides of her ribcage
from behind.  Pat thought about just how big the girl's tits would get by
the time she grew to adulthood and smiled, even as her own big tits settled
on the girl's back beneath her.  Then Pat got her ass up in the air,
drool-soaked cock splitting the girl's pussy wide open, as the two little
babies watched their mother and great grandmother breeding hard, fast, and
loud right in front of them.

   After Pat had finished flooding her granddaughter's belly with sticky
seed, she headed on back to the little village that had grown around the
edge of the river.  The first house she came to was relatively new, and
fairly small, where Sandy lived with her young son.  And from the sounds
coming from the nearest window, they were eager to add more to their
family. Directly across the river from that was the foundation of a house
under construction.  Letting the foundation cure over the winter would
insure it's maximum hardness, as well as prove it's strength before more
time was spent on it.  It was due to be a home for Beth and Mary to share
with their children, Beth's newborn son and Mary's two daughters.

   Pat walked past Karen's house, where she lived with Ian, her twin
daughters, the twins' new daughters, and, until their house was finished,
Beth and Mary with their kids.  It was a bit crowded in there, by all
accounts, a mild surprise that Karen's twins had managed to get pregnant in
the middle of all that.  But such was life for an excel.  And, at last, Pat
reached her own house, where she still lived with Christine and their
little daughters, one from each.  Up on the ridge line, towering over the
houses below, stood the two-story storage silo, a set of switchback stairs
leading up to it.  On the very top of it's roof sat a small lookout post,
granting an unrivaled view of the area below the river falls.

   It was a small village, to be sure.  But it was cozy, and home to
seventeen.  No doubt home to even more, given time.  The cheese fruit farm
had already proven it's value on that score.  Pat let out a content sigh as
she entered her home, declaring "Hey, I'm back."

   Christine looked up from her seat at the main table, smiling.  "Welcome
back." Their daughters sat with her, working on their studies.  A
trigonometry test, from the glance Pat gave the sheets of threadleaf before
them, as they carefully dabbed their styli into a shared inkwell and slowly
scratched out their answers.  Staying quiet to allow them to concentrate,
Pat went over to the small desk she had set in the corner next to the
fireplace, sitting with a sigh to work on her own sheets of threadleaf.

   Going over a short stack of them, Pat looked over the current accounting
of the contents of the storehouse, scribbling a quick reminder to take a
new count in a couple days in the margin.  Another couple sheets had the
proposed fishing shack to be built down at the lake, an attempt to make
fishing for muckfish a practical option instead of a rare treat.  There
were the plans for Beth's new house, which she quickly shuffled down to the
bottom as currently unimportant.  And it looked like a new report on
Sandy's attempt at stoneworking had been delivered, with the opener that
she would need a lot more hands for any practical amounts of worked stone
to be produced and delivered anywhere.

   Pat sighed.  Pulling out a fresh sheet, she opened her own inkwell and
started carefully writing out Ian's concerns about metalwork.  She added
some notes on relevant geology, focusing on metals she knew.  Copper would
be the easiest to smith, requiring little to no refinement, but also very
hard to dig up in quantity.  Iron would be potentially plentiful, but in
forms that would require extensive refining.  Silver could sort of function
for tools, but hardly ideal.  It all really depended on what could be
found. Assuming it was even in a form Pat could recognize.

   With little more that she could add without evidence, Pat moved on to
another sheet.  Glancing over her shoulder towards the main table, she
started drawing up a proposal for a centralized school system.  People were
doing their best with teaching the new children at their homes, but Pat
knew that consistency would quickly become highly important.  They would
need a place to gather, study materials, syllabi, and people to be
dedicated teachers.  Eventually they'd even need multiple years of students
for a more gradated education.

   The stylus scritched along as Pat bent over her work.  She only stopped
when she became aware of a presence standing nearby.  Standing just to the
side was Christine, wide wooden platter in hand with a cup and pitcher on
it.  "Hey, Pat.  I just thought you'd like some water," she said, smiling
gently.

   Pat sat back slowly, only just now noticing that it was late in the day
and she'd been working for hours.  Flexing her shoulders to work the kinks
out, she grunted.  "Thanks, yeah.  What time is it, anyways?"

   "A little after sundown," Christine told her.  She set down the platter
on a small table near the fireplace, taking the cup into her hand. 
"Sometimes I wonder if you'd remember to eat, sleep, or fuck if I didn't
remind..."

   There was a loud wooden clatter, as the cup hit the floor and skittered
across it.  Christine stopped talking, nibbling at her lip.  Looking down
at the wooden cup on the floor, slightly rocking back and forth, Christine
seemed to stare at it for a moment, before slowly bending down and firmly
placing her hand on it, palm-first, before curling her fingers around the
rounded shape.  She lifted it, straightening up as she said, "I'm sorry,
let me get a fresh one..."

   "It's okay," Pat told her.  "That one will do."

   Christine seemed a little torn for a moment, before deciding to take Pat
at her word.  She carefully set the cup back down on the platter before
taking hold of the full pitcher, at first placing one hand on it's handle,
and then, after a moment of thought, using both hands to lift it. 
Christine carefully poured the water into the cup, going slowly to not tip
it over.  Setting the pitcher back down, Christine picked up the full cup
in both hands to pass it over to Pat.

   Pat smiled gently at her, nodding.  "Thanks." She took a sip of the cool
water as Christine smiled in return.

   "You should eat something, too," Christine said.  Turning to the
fireplace, she carefully reached inside to the baking shelves, where Pat
realized a small portion of food had been set to cook.  She'd been so
caught up in her work she hadn't even noticed Christine preparing a meal
for her.  As she reached for it, however, it slipped from her fingers,
landing back down on the shelf.  Christine tried to take hold of it again,
but it simply broke in half before slipping from her fingers again.  She
tried once more before softly asking, "Could you just help me with this..?"

   Pat was on her feet, as if a coiled spring had just been released. 
"Certainly," she said, setting her cup down and stepping quickly to stand
alongside Christine.  "If you could get the plate?" Pat asked.  When
Christine did so, holding the wooden plate steady in both hands Pat reached
in with both of her hands to grab the hot food and quickly transfer it to
the plate.  Glancing behind her, Christine adjusted her hold on the plate
to set it on top of one forearm, before quickly reaching for a wooden fork.
Her first attempt missed, fingers clutching emptily at the table's surface,
and Pat surreptitiously added one of her own hands to steady the plate as
Christine grabbed at the fork again, this time getting it and adding it to
the plate.  The assembly complete, Christine offered the food to Pat, who
took it with a smile.  "Thanks," she said.

   Christine nodded, and as Pat sat at her desk again to eat, she asked,
"You'll be coming to bed soon, right?"

   Pat looked over her work across the desk.  "Um, sure.  Give me a few
minutes to eat and get a few more thoughts down, okay?"

   Christine took that answer and nodded.  Seeming to think for a moment as
Pat ate, Christine casually reached up and undid the ties holding her shirt
closed.  Letting her shirt slowly fall open, first revealing curved
cleavage before sliding past her wide nipples, revealing the large spheres
of each breast, one at a time.  Slipping her shirt past her shoulders,
Christine let it catch briefly at the elbows, before softly falling to the
floor.

   Taking a slow step, Christine started walking towards the bedchamber,
hands at her waist to free the belt of her skirt, showing off her profile
of her stomach, flat and pristine even after four children, it's slight
tracing of underlying muscles seeming to ask to be stretched outwards
again. Her belt came loose, and she let it slip a little, catching on the
upper curve of her ass, making a jerky and slow trip down her cheeks as
they flexed with her measured steps.

   The skirt fell from her ass cheeks, jerking to a stop at about the
knees, as Christine raised a leg to step over the lowered skirt, the toned
muscles of her leg flexing in sequence as they did.  Her foot came down,
and she let the skirt slip from her fingers.  It hung off her foot as she
raised it to be tossed aside.  Now reaching the door to the bedchamber,
Christine turned to look back at Pat, smiling as she opened the door. 
"I'll be waiting," she said, before stepping nakedly through and closing
the door behind her.  Through the crack in the door, Pat could see the bed,
looking much more warm and cozy with the promise of Christine being there
as well, next to the two sound-asleep forms of their daughters.

   Pat broke out of the staring daze Christine had cast upon her.  Quickly
cramming everything on her plate into her mouth, tasting almost none of it,
she finished eating.  Grabbing her stylus, she wrote down one more sentence
of thought in a barely-legible scrawl before setting her work aside and
heading to the bedchamber as well.  She'd have to be gentle with Christine,
or they'd end up too noisy and wake the girls.  They'd want to join in, of
course, and who knows when they'd actually get any sleep?

   On second thought, let 'em wake up.

   *****

   This is a work of fiction, if that wasn't clear enough.  Nothing I write
about has ever or will ever occour in reality.  Any resemblence characters
may have to real people is entirely coincidental and unintentional.  And I
can not and will not condone real sexual activity involving minors.

   I do however, condone positive feedback, and encourage it.  :)

   If you feel like sending me some feedback, you can reach me at zorlond
AT yahoo DOT com.