Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: High School Yearbook


Summary: Bryan, the yearbook -(TM)s editor, enjoys his senior year.   


Keywords:inc,fic,erotic,hot





   Bree's clit was throbbing.

   It was the same dream she'd had the night before, and the night before
that, but more graphic, more intense, more arousing.  The young man holding
her clitoris between his teeth sucked on it, drawing more and more blood
into her most sensitive place.  He dragged the flat of his warm thick
tongue over it, flicked it with the tip of that tongue like an unrelenting
Gatling gun.  His tongue kept shifting, trying something new, returning to
something wonderful, moving from spot-to-spot.  It knew what she needed.

   He touched his finger to her vagina, played with its swollen lips. 
Although he could have jammed his finger into her -- she'd never been so
wet -- he moved it inside incrementally, slowly, half a inch at a time,
caressing exploring the inner walls of her sex.  Pleasure pulsed through
her.

   When he found her g-spot he dragged the fingertip over it in a come
hither motion, massaged it, pampered it.  She gibbered her delight and her
g-spot -- it'd never been this big -- merged with her clitoris.  All the
time his tongue continued its assault on her clit, slapping and plundering
her sex.

   Her cunt was on fire.  She was going to come like she'd never come
before.

   And then she'd woken up.  It took a second -- she heard her husband's
snores -- to orient herself before she was ready to accept it wasn't real.
However, real or not, the hand she pressed to her wet sex confirmed the
dream's power.  She glanced at the clock beside her bed -- crap, it was
three in the morning.

   She looked at her husband, considered waking him up, but she recalled
the last time she'd done that.  Two weeks ago she'd used her mouth on him,
but the resulting erection lasted five thrusts (she knew, she counted)
before he came inside her, his dick far too sensitive to continue.  She'd
felt his shame, had felt it over the past months as his sex drive
deteriorated and he had ever more trouble achieving, then maintaining an
erection.  No, she'd not embarrass him tonight.

   She got out of bed, closed the bathroom door, turned on the shower,
climbed inside.  She imagined the young man's mouth, squeezed her breast,
twisted her nipple, worked her clit.  When it came the orgasm was hard and
strong and delicious and she swallowed her groans so as not to disturb her
husband.

   Feeling rejuvenated, electric and alive, she toweled herself off, took
extra care with her short fiery red hair and make-up, then, as she studied
her naked self in the mirror, her mind returned to the first difficult
months of her marriage.

   Bryan, her soon to be stepson, had not been happy when, after a six day
courtship, his father announced he was going to marry this total stranger.
Things got worse when Bryan met Andrea his future stepsister, the Belle of
the Ball, the girl who dated the quarterback but was too cool to be a
cheerleader, the girl who, when she deigned to notice her studious
stepbrother, treated him mixed contempt and disdain.  And while Bryan was
never overtly hostile to her or Andrea -- he was too smart to risk setting
off his volatile father -- he was aloof, refusing to fully participate in
his new family, holding himself as an outsider, an observer.

   Then, three months ago, she'd started having trouble falling and staying
asleep.  She mentioned it to the family over breakfast and a few days later
Bryan said he'd done some research and suggested a white-noise machine. 
She said no -- she didn't trust the kid -- but as the problem intensified
she revisited the idea, checked it out on the internet, decided it could do
no harm.  When the package arrived Bryan, the family geek, volunteered to
program and set it up for her.

   It worked.  She slept eight hours that night, every night since, felt
better, looked better -- her eyes and skin seemed to glow.  Brimming with
energy she got herself to the gym and lost ten pounds, regaining her
college 112 pounds spread over her slender 34-24-35 five foot seven inches
and "B" breasts.  Even better, it was the beginning of a new relationship
with her stepson.  Treating him like an adult, always taking the extra step
for him, making every effort to show him courtesy, kindness, and respect,
she came to appreciate his determination, sense of responsibility, wisdom,
air of intelligence and command.

   Bree's reverie was interrupted by the sound of her stepson coming down
the stairs.  The editor/manager of his high school yearbook, he'd been
getting to school early each morning to work with the yearbook's faculty
adviser.  But before he'd leave, knowing how Bree loved her coffee in the
morning, he'd set up the coffee maker for her.  Now, deciding to thank him,
she wrapped a towel around her naked body, turned off the light in the
bathroom, and slipped by Edward, her comatose husband.

   "Bryan, is that you."

   He came around the corner of the kitchen, saw her, said, "You're up
early."

   "Yeah, woke up about forty-five minutes ago, couldn't get back to sleep.
I want to thank you for making coffee.  That's very sweet."

   "You're welcome.  Should I take a look at the white-noise machine, see
if it needs adjustment."

   Pinning the towel to her chest -- it had started to slip -- she
approached him, said, "I'd appreciate that," kissed his cheek, wished him a
good day, and then did something she'd never done before, kept her eyes on
his butt as he headed for the garage.  She knew she shouldn't.  He was her
stepson, he wasn't her type, too skinny, too nerdy, but still, it was a
nice ass.

   * * * * *

   Bianca Richards heard the clop-clop of her blue 2 ½ pumps echo down the
empty school hallway.  She wished they were the 4 ½ inch spiked heels her
lover preferred, wished her pantyhose had the seam running down the back
her lover adored, but he was right.  At school one erred on the side of the
appropriate.

   There was no false modesty to her: she checked herself in her office
mirror, liked what she saw.  Of Middle Eastern descent, her look was
exotic: triangular face with a strong chin, full lips, dark smoldering
eyes, thick wavy raven hair.  And although she'd worked her body to curvy
perfection, 110 toned pounds on a five feet six inch 25-32-35 figure and
"C" breasts, wearing glasses, a white blouse, blue jacket, and calf length
blue skirt, no one could accuse her of flaunting it.  Of course, if they
knew about the stockings, garters and straps, lacy bra and lack of panties
she wore underneath things might be different.  But, only he knew.

   Deciding to emphasize her full lips she reached into her purse, choosing
a red lip stick too dark for this early hour.  But he'd like it and it
would be gone before the rest of the student body arrived.

   As she put the lipstick back in her purse she heard his footsteps in the
hall.  If the school board knew she'd provided him a key to the school,
there'd be hell to pay.  Then again, if the school board knew he had a key
to her car and home, that she was fucking him, that her husband happily
acquiesced to it all, there'd be hell to pay.  What was one additional
indiscretion?

   She glanced in the mirror one last time.  She'd never looked better. 
Part of it, she knew, was presentation.  While she had always been careful
about her appearance, over the last few months she'd become fanatical, and
at the moment, make-up flawless, hair worn up, long nails painted a deep
red, she could have been taken for a model.  She'd also never worked harder
at the gym, her skin and eyes, bright and alive, were healthier than ever,
and she thought about sex all the time, of her lover, the way he fucked
her, taking her to places she'd only dreamed of.

   She'd never been so alive.

   She slipped her leather belt off, draped it over the back of her chair,
neatly folded and lay her skirt atop it, then saying, "Good morning
darling," turned to the door, greeting her lover in stockings, garter, and
heels.

   He stopped.  She loved the way he looked at her; the ways his eyes
possessed her.

   Slipping the glasses from her face, she nibbled on the end of a stem and
said, "You like?"

   "I do."

   Placing her glasses on her desk, she strode across the room, steps slow,
rotating her body for him, and said, "I know we have a lot to do for the
yearbook, but I'm thinking we still have time for a quickie."

   He smiled, placed a finger under her chin, moved her face to his, and
his strong masterful tongue entered her mouth.  She reached down, covered
his penis with her hand, and with practiced skill undid the buttons on his
jeans, slipped two fingers inside, ran their manicured surface on his
erection.

   When the kiss ended dropping to her knees she said, "I take it that's a
yes.  Y'know, you're not wearing any underwear."

   "No, but neither are you.  I guess great minds..."

   "...think alike."

   Bryan yanked his belt free and Bianca pulled his pants over his hips,
smiled up at him, said, "God you're big," held his dick flat to his belly,
licked up its underside, did so again, sucked one testicle, then the other,
into her mouth, thoroughly bathing each with tongue and spit.

   Letting the testicle escape his mouth with an audible pop she tilted him
forward, flicked her tongue across his pisshole several times, stretched
her jaw, moved him just inside her mouth, licked along the underside of his
cock then clamped her lips on him just beyond the crown.  Swinging her
tongue around the cockhead, she moved forward, taking half of him in her
mouth, moved back, repeated, pushing forward a little farther each time
until his pubic hair tickled her nose.  His dick embedded in her face, she
placed his hand on the back of her head and coddled his hot heavy balls. 
He was ready; they were pulsating.  And her?  She was always ready.

   She let him slip from her mouth, stood, pulled the pins from her hair,
and shaking her head, straightening her long black tresses, leaned over her
desk and looking at him over her shoulder said, "Bryan, you know how I love
your dick.  Fuck me, fuck your horny teacher."

   Inserting a finger in her, confirming she was wet and ready, Bryan took
hold of her hips and drove himself into her in a single solid thrust. 
Ninnying her delight with a high lascivious squeal, her body rocked forward
and clasping the sides of her desk Bianca and pushed back, meeting his next
thrust.  They fucked, bodies slamming into each other with loud slaps. 
Bianca wondered why couldn't her husband fuck her like this, why wasn't his
cock perfect like Bryan's, but she knew the answer.  Her husband was sweet,
but you can't expect one man to be everything.

   Her mind turned inward, focusing on the cock plunging into her, filling
her, stretching the walls of her cunt.  His massive balls swung back and
forth, slapping her clit at the end of each thrust.  She reached between
her legs, trapped her clitoris against her body with the pad of a perfectly
manicured finger, rubbed it back and forth.

   She came, came again, then a third time, each reverberating through her
like the crack of a bull whip, but she knew another lurked deep inside,
waiting for him to, needing him to....

   As if reading her mind he grunted, tightened his grip on her hips,
fingers digging into her flesh, and drove into her, rocking her onto her
tip toes.  His dick quivered and spasmed, and he was coming, spewing his
thick essence into her.  As he did she came, her body shuddering like a tin
roof in the face of a hurricane's winds, until half-conscious she slumped
forward.  His cock slid out of her, juice and cum dribbled from her cunt
onto the desk's polished surface.

   Breathing heavily, mind scrambled, eyes closed, she lay there wallowing
in her satiated body, every muscle perfectly at rest.  Only he could make
her feel this way.

   A few minutes later her eyes drifted open.  Her lover was sitting in her
office chair, his massive dick dangling between his legs.  She smiled,
pushed the hair from her face, said, "You're a fricking god," and stood. 
Bryan did the same and they moved into each other's arms, kissed.  She
loved the feel of his body on hers, the way her breasts flattened on his
chest, and nestling her head on his shoulder she said, "I guess it's time
to get to work.  I'll meet you in the yearbook office."

   He said, "I'll see you there my darling," kissed her, left.  Closing the
office door -- because school policy prohibited closed door meetings
between faculty and students she'd left it open -- she wiped herself clean,
fixed her hair and make-up, put her skirt back on, dabbed a little perfume
behind her ears, and went to join her lover in the yearbook office where,
sitting at adjoining desks, they got to work.  As they did Bianca detected
the lingering smell of their lovemaking on her body and wondered, on most
days, on some barely detectable level, did she smell of him?  Perhaps that
was why she was subject to more covetous looks from her students and fellow
faculty members than ever.

   * * * * *

   As her stepson headed for school Bree poured herself a cup of coffee,
returned to her bedroom, slipped by her still sleeping husband.  She didn't
need to be in court that day, didn't need to overtly trade on her good
looks, and so selected a mid-calf green dress, attractive and comfortable.
Bree, finishing dressing just about the time Bryan arrived at school,
kissed her husband on the side of the head, whispered, "Time to get up
dear," and turned off the white noise machine.  The voices hidden in that
noise, the voices that sang to her and her husband's subconscious minds
night after night, ceased their song.

   * * * * *

   In the kitchen Bree poured herself a second cup of coffee, heard her
husband get in the shower, started responding to e-mails, and as Bryan was
poised to drive his cock into his voluptuous teacher from behind heard her
daughter come down the stairs.

   "Hey Mom."

   Bree turned to the staircase.  Her daughter's face, bags under blood
shot eyes, told her everything she needed to know.

   "Bad night's sleep again?"

   "Yeah, got coffee?  Black."

   "Black?  It must have been bad."

   Andrea said, "If this goes on much longer I'll need sleeping pills."

   Thinking of her own battle with sleeplessness, a sleeplessness that
defeated every sleeping pill prescribed by her doctor, that defied
everything until the white-nose machine, Bree said, "Have you considered
the white box, it worked wonders for me."

   They'd been through this.  When Andrea first complained about
sleeplessness Bryan had suggested it, but Andrea dismissed him with her
usual contempt.  Unfazed, Bryan had responded with a nonchalant, "If you
change your mind let me know." He never brought it up again, but Bree had
as Andrea's problem worsened.

   Andrea, her voice lacking the conviction it'd shown up to this time,
said, "I don't know Mom, I'd hate to let King Nerd think I need him for
something, but yeah, I need something.  Much more of this and I'll have
competition for best looking girl in school."

   Bree, her tone sharp, said, "Andrea don't talk about your brother like
that, he is sweet and smart and always willing to help.  You should try to
be nice to him."

   A bit annoyed -- until recently her mother had invariably taken her side
when she criticized her stepbrother -- Andrea swallowed her, "Whatever,"
and said, "Yes Mama."

   * * * * *

   Hearing the hallways start to fill with students Bianca marked the
progress of her work, closed her computer, and turned to Bryan.  "We got a
lot accomplished today."

   "Yes we did.  Same time tomorrow?"

   "I'll be here.  How about tonight, my place?"

   He opened his phone, checked his schedule, frowned.  "Chess Club meeting
after school, calculus test tomorrow, it will have to be a quickie around
8:00."

   "Perfect, I'll let my husband know you're coming over.  I'll be waiting
upstairs.  There's some new lingerie I'm dying to model for you."

   As Bryan said, "I'm looking forward to itl," his phone pinged.  He
glanced down and Bianca, seeing the concentration on his face, said, "What
is it my darling?"

   "It's from my stepmom.  It seems my wicked stepsister finally decided a
white-noise machine may help her sleep.  She wants me to order one."

   Recalling how she'd seen Andrea disrespect her stepbrother around
school, how she'd heard her belittle him behind his back, Bianca said, "Are
you sure your stepsister deserves your help?"

   "Maybe not, but one should err on the side of kindness.  How is your
white-noise machine working?"

   Smiling, "Wonderfully.  My husband and I have never slept better."

   * * * * *

   The family ensconced before the television downstairs, Bryan carefully
measured his stepsister's bedroom.  It had been his once, but when Bree and
Andrea moved in he'd been kicked out, his father siding with Bree when she
said her daughter needed the room's oversized closet for her clothes. 
Finishing the measurements he turned to his stepsister's expensive sound
system, deleting the program which, for the past month, emitted a low
rumble several times each night which, although indecipherable to the human
ear, woke his stepsister up.  He then tied the white noise-machine into the
sound system, knowing the latter's superior sonic properties would
intensify the machine's efficacy.

   Buried in the white noise were layer after layer of intricate interwoven
voices.  It had taken Bryan months to create.  Sampled from the greatest
choral music ever recorded, modeled on the music of Johann Sebastian Bach,
the voices sang in endlessly evolving juxtaposition: sang in monophony,
sang in heterophony, sang in polyphony, sang in harmony, sang in
counterpoint and rounder, sang in intersecting tempos, in different
temporal modes, in fugues and variations.  The effect was relaxing,
seductive, hypnotic, and overwhelming.

   The voices were not dictators.  They did not command or instruct. 
Instead the voices sang of a night of deep uninterrupted sleep and the
result: renewed vigor and energy.
For women the voices sang of an ever flourishing sex drive, one that was

intensifying, becoming more daring, more inclusive.

   For men, sadly, the voices sang of an aging sex drive, inadequate for
the beautiful women in their lives.

   The voices praised Bryan, his wisdom, intelligence, judgment.  The
voices sang of his attractiveness, his desirability, his quiet strength,
his magnetism.  The voices sang of his skill as a lover, of the inadequacy
of any other man.

   The voices sang of a wonderful world, a world without restrictions,
where one's libido reigned free.

   As they had with Bree and her husband, as they had with Bianca and hers,
these voices poured their song into Andrea's mind each night.

   That first night, for the first time in weeks, Andrea slept well.

   * * * * *

   For Bree the dreams sharpened.  And while she still couldn't see her
lover's face, she knew who it was.  Bryan was doing those wonderful things
to her.  At first when she woke up she refused to masturbate.  She knew it
was only a dream, knew no harm could come from it, but still Bryan, no
matter how wonderful and attractive, was her stepson.

   But it was hard, for the burn between her legs burned all day long and
then one morning she didn't want to resist anymore and brought herself off
in the shower.  It was wonderful.

   And that night, for the first time she saw the face of the lover in her
dream.  It was Bryan.

   The songs were patient.  At first it wasn't that Andrea was nice to her
stepbrother, it was more that she wasn't mean.  Bryan noticed; no one else
did.  But as the weeks went by Andrea became more pleasant, attentive,
considerate, positive.  And then one day she said, "Bryan, I have Mr. 
Ferrick's algebra mid-term tomorrow.  I know you aced his course last year.
Kelly's coming over to study together.  Could you give us a hand?"

   "I'd love to sis."

   "Thanks, you're the best."

   After an hour Bree, happy to see her daughter and stepson getting along
made hot chocolate, the good stuff, Bryan's favorite, and brought it
upstairs to the kids.

   * * * * *

   While sex was the common theme, this particular Saturday night Bryan,
Andrea, and Bree were differently occupied.

   We'll start with Bryan.  He was struggling to focus.  Driving Bianca's
Jaguar home from a picnic -- they loved fucking in the great outdoors --
his sexy teacher's head was in his lap, her mouth sliding up and down his
dick.  Managing to maneuver the sports car into Bianca's garage, he parked
and said, "We're back at your place darling."

   Lifting her head, glancing around as if confirming his statement, she
ran her tongue in an oval on her lips, capturing some of the spit that
covered her jaw, and said, "So we are.  God you turn me on."

   "Where's Roy?"

   Glancing at the clock on the dashboard she said, "By now my husband is
at Ricky's; he's having the guys over for the game.  Roy's bringing some of
his amazing guacamole.  He said he'd leave a helping for us in the
refrigerator."

   "Your husband is a sweet man."

   "He is, I'm a lucky girl.  Let's get inside."

   As Bianca got out of the car, as she opened the gate leading into her
backyard, Bryan, for the ten-thousandth time marveled at the beauty of this
woman.  Wearing sandals, a white sports bra skimpy even by her standards,
and tiny tan shorts that emphasized her olive skin, she was a walking wet
dream.  And although every guy in his high school, every guy who saw her,
wanted her, she was all his.

   Stepping through the gate, she stopped by the pool, undid her shorts,
let them slide down her legs.  Her tight high perfect ass was naked --
she'd left her panties in the forest, a souvenir for some lucky camper --
and visible at its center was the flared purple base of a butt plug.

   They'd started small.  The first toy was not much bigger than a straw,
letting her get used to having something in her ass.  But the toys had
grown steadily larger longer thicker and she quickly found she liked having
something up there.  In her office, just before his class, she'd lube
herself up and slip a toy in her anus, loving that in a room filled with
thirty-plus students only he and she knew a dildo or butt plug was planted
in her ass.

   He'd suggested a dildo equal to his cock in size, but she'd said no. 
When that moment came, when she was to be that stretched, crammed that
full, she wanted it to be him, only him.

   Her back still to him she pulled the bra over her head, dropped it next
to her shorts, turned, smiled, said, "How 'bout a shower."

   * * * * *

   The two of them worked bath gel into each other's skin, washing away the
day's accumulated grime and the detritus of their impassioned fuck in the
forest.  When done Bianca reached for the medical bulb, handed it to him,
said, "Please clean me up," and turned, her hands on the wall, her ass high
in the air.  Filling the bulb with the shower's warm water Bryan said, "You
ever have an enema?'

   "No, but it sounds like fun.  Would you give me one someday?"

   "Yeah, but for now this will do," and inserting the bulb's nozzle in her
rectum filled her ass with warm soapy water.

   Saying,"Oh god, that feels good," she clamped her anus shut, holding the
water inside her for several beats before relaxing and letting it flow down
her legs.

   She turned to him, entwined her arms on his neck, kissed him, and loving
the feel of her breasts crushed on his chest whispered, "You ready to fuck
your teacher up the ass?"

   * * * * *

   Bianca turned on the sound system and, soft music filling the bedroom,
sat at her vanity as Bryan, standing behind her, dried her hair with a
blow-dryer.  It took a while, her hair was thick and long, but Bryan didn't
mind, didn't mind sitting on the bed watching her brush that hair.  He
loved watching this impossibly sexy woman, but never so much as at times
like now, when she was preparing herself for him.

   Finishing with her hair she placed her brush atop the vanity, picked up
a bottle of his favorite perfume, held it to her nose, closed her eyes and
inhaled, dabbed it on her wrists and behind her ears, stood, said, "It's a
big night my love."

   "It is, are you nervous?"

   "A little.  I'm a virgin back there and we've spent a lot of energy
getting me ready.  But I know I'll be fine.  I always am with you."

   She sat on the bed next to him and the lovers melted into each other's
arm, their kisses growing deeper longer more passionate until he moved his
mouth to her ear and said, "Why don't you lay down."

   She did, on her stomach.  Picking up the massage oil they kept by the
bed he worked her back and shoulders, her legs from toes to hips, before
dribbling it onto her butt and massaging the oil into her ass cheeks.  Her
sphincter, accustomed to his touch -- he loved fingering her ass during sex
-- relaxed and oil leaked inside her.

   Moving between her legs, spreading her butt cheeks, Bryan let the thick
dollop of the spit he'd been building in his mouth ooze onto her anal bud,
then, tongue loose and open, licked it up, down, all around.  And while
focused on her anus he'd visit the surrounding area which, like the rest of
her backside, were growing increasingly sensitive.

   With Bianca cooing her delight Bryan curled his tongue and tickled the
opening of her anus with its tip.  At first her sphincter, acting on
instinct, tightened, but as he stabbed and swabbed, it relaxed; he speared
half an inch of tongue inside her.  When his tongue grew exhausted, he
kissed her anus, gently dragged his front teeth on it, did it again. 
Bianca moaned with guttural gusto.

   "Okay babe, up on your knees."

   She did and after coasting his finger with lubricant he stroked her anus
with its tip several times before pushing it inside her.  At the first
knuckle he stopped, waited for her to relax, gently twirled it inside her.

   "Unnnhhhh."

   He pushed a bit deeper, stopped, gave her a minute to adjust, twirled.

   "Unnnnnhhhhhhh."

   Moving deliberately he pushed all the way in, stopped, waited, twirled.

   "Uunnnnnnnhhhhhhhhhhh."

   Flexing the walls of her rectum on him she rotated her ass, moving it in
counterpoint with his twisting finger, and muttered encouragement.  "Oh
Bryan, yes, oh yes, that's it, oh fuck yes, that's it."

   When he placed a second fingertip on her asshole she said, "Please
darling, let me," and pushed back onto it.  Moving past her sphincter,
slithering ever deeper inside, this finger joined the first, it's full
length buried inside her ass.  He held his fingers motionless, waiting for
Bianca to be ready, and she clamped her rectum on him, giving him a
foretaste of the delight that was to come.  "Oh Bryan, I'm gonna make you
dick feel so good.  Finger-fuck my ass."

   Slowly, very slowly, he slid his fingers back until their tips were
pressed to her sphincter, slipped them back in.  At first, eyes closed, her
focus on the thousands of nerve endings crowding her anus, she was passive,
letting him dictate pace and power, but soon, a fire burning inside her,
she was rocking her backside onto his fingers until the sensations became
so intense they verged on painful and she said, "I'm ready babe.  I want to
be on top."

   Sliding his fingers from her asshole Bryan tumbled onto his back, his
erection laying flat on his stomach.

   Bianca sat up, chin resting on her knee, and, looking at her lover,
paused.  She remembered when they met.  He was the newly elected editor of
the yearbook and she it's faculty liaison, a job foisted each year on the
newby teacher.  She hadn't been happy: he wanted to work hard and produce a
first rate product; she saw the job as more chore than pleasure.

   Her disinterest must have shown, for at their third meeting he brought a
white-noise machine, saying it would help them concentrate.  She'd had
doubts, but told him to plug it in.  It turned out he was right, it was
their most productive meeting yet.  When he brought it to the next meeting,
when it had the same result, she apologized for her earlier doubts. 
Pleased by her enthusiasm he suggested she take it home, use it at night to
deepen her sleep.

   Over the next months working with this handsome young man became the
highlight of her days and as her husband's once powerful sex drive
disappeared they'd become lovers.

   Now, dribbling lubricant on his dick, she wrapped her fingers around it,
slid them up and down -- god she loved his dick -- straddled him, looked to
his perfect face, and saying, "I'm so glad I saved this for you," reached
behind herself and slid the head of his cock up and down her well-lubed
anal crevice.  Bryan, his hands covered with the lubricant, reached up to
drag his thumbs across her fat breasts, increasing the pressure when he
reached her dark distended nipples.  Moaning in pleasure she closed her
eyes, held him to the rosebud of her anus, took a deep breath, blew the air
out between pursed lips, leaned back.

   Despite all the preparation there was pain; he was bigger than any of
the toys she used.  But accepting the challenge she increased the pressure,
felt her sphincter stretch, give way, mold itself to the invading cockhead,
and taking a deep breath, she pushed.  His cockhead popped inside her.  It
hurt.  She stopped, rested her hands on her thighs, looked at the large
wall mirror she'd had installed and loving the sight pushed down --
sometimes stopping, sometimes rocking back and forth to stretch herself --
as inch after hard inch of him filled her ass.

   Soon she found she was sitting on his hips.  She felt triumphant; all of
him was interred in her backside.

   She closed her eyes, focused on his cock, of the sensation of being
stuffed.  She'd never been this full.

   "Oh god Bryan, it's wonderful.  Thank you for seducing me, for being my
lover, for taking the time to prepare me for this."

   "Pretty lady, the pleasure is mine."

   Pushing her thick hair behind her ears, knowing she was surrendering to
him in a way she'd done for no other, she rocked her hips, back and forth,
in small ovals, tiny figure eights.  It still hurt, but the pain also
served to highlight an intense, previously unknown, pleasure buried deep in
her butt.

   Accepting the challenge she clenched the muscles of her ass, increasing
the pressure, felt her rectum stretch, mold itself to his cock.

   Intoxicated by the sight of his beautiful teacher impaled on his cock,
Bryan said, "Play with your tits." She did, rolling her nipples between her
fingers.  When he said, "Lick your tits," she cupped each breast, tipped it
upwards, dragged her tongue across the nipple.

   Bryan rolled his thumb over her clit.

   Lost in a hurricane of sensations Bianca raised herself on her knees,
just an inch, slid back down.  Taking her time she repeated, lengthened the
process, until only his cock-head remaining inside her, she stopped and
said, "Well Bryan, how is it?  Am I as tight as you imagined?  Was it worth
the wait?" then dropped down, absorbing all of him into her body.

   "Bianca, it's fricking amazing."

   She kept going, never hurrying, but steadily increasing the pace.  Soon
Bryan, seeing she was ready, began gently thrusting into her with an upward
roll of his hips.

   Bianca again looked to the mirror, liked the wanton woman and beautiful
young man she saw there, but imagined something else, something more raw,
more animal.  Her proud surrender.

   She leaned forward, her hands on the bed beside his head, her hair
hanging down over her face, her large breasts swaying.  "Bryan, I want you
to take me from behind."

   Raising his head to lick her nipples Bryan said, "Are you sure?"

   Leaning back so she was again sitting on her knees she looked to the
mirror, at the lewd image staring back.  "Absolutely, I want you to be in
control."

   She moved off him, got on all fours.  Sitting up Bryan took his place
between her legs, held the head of his cock to her anus as she leaned back
until his dick surged past her sphincter.

   Rotating his hips, stretching her out, Bryan pushed, venturing deep into
her nether-world.  When he was all the way in Bianca flexed her ass
muscles, heard him groan in pleasure, arched her back, pressed her hips to
him.  Bryan began thrusting in and out of her, steadily increasing the pace
and power as Bianca's moans, whimpers, and groans signaled her increasing
arousal.

   Reaching under herself to stroke her clit, she dropped her head to the
bed, and leaning on her shoulder looked in the mirror, watching her student
cornhole her, a wicked pleasure written on his handsome face.

   Changing angles Brian started varying his strokes: short sweet and
shallow, long deep and penetrating.

   "Oh yes Bryan.  Oh yes, oh yes."

   Growing ever more familiar with each other, apprehension a thing of the
past, her finger on her clit, Bianca focused on her lover's dick churning
in her bum.  They fucked on and on.  And she experienced a series of short
crackling orgasms -- it felt like a thousand minty fairies were throwing
snowballs in there -- that left her craving more.

   And then Bryan leaned forward and through the thin wall separating her
cunt and asshole she felt Bryan's fat cock-head roll over her g-spot.

   "Yes Bryan, just like that, oh fuck me, just like that."

   He angled his thrusts down, increasing the pressure on her g-spot; she
worked her clit with single-minded ferocity.  The pressure in her clit,
g-spot, and anus built, fed off each other; it was unlike anything she'd
ever known.  She tried to analyze it, but it washed away her rational mind,
and she let it carry her away.

   "Oh Bryan, oh Bryan, so so so so so so so...."

   Feeling every inch, every contour, of Bryan's cock Bianca rocked back
into him, pushing her hips onto him with a force that should hurt, but
didn't.  Inspired by her naked passion Bryan drove himself into her, going
deep, so deep they both wondered if he'd come out the other side.

   Bianca blubbered as orgasms came in waves.  Intense and full-bodied,
born in her clit, anus, and g-spot, they were deeper, more personal, more
profound than anything she'd ever experienced.  She was on sensory
overload, coming again and again.

   And then she heard it, the growl she'd become so familiar with these
past months.  He'd soon fill her rectum with his seed.

   Rubbing her clit harder she looked over her shoulder, said, "That's it
baby, come inside me, come inside your teacher, come inside me," and
tightened the walls of her ass.  His dick spasmed and jumped and she
reached back, squeezed his balls, and with an animal roar he jammed himself
into her and sent blast after blast of hot white hot jizz into her ass.

   She let go of his balls, touched her clit.  This orgasm came in slow
vibrating waves, starting at her ankles, arching into her back, flowing out
of the top of her head, never peaking, but lingering, filling her with a
perfect peace and contentment.  There were no fears or anxiety, no past, no
future, no car payments or mortgages.  There was only him and her, two
people covered in sweat, melting into each other.  She was aware of every
cell in her body; it was the closet thing to god she'd ever felt.

   She lay with her lover until, strength returning, she kissed him and
walked down the stairs -- her ass was going to be sore in the morning. 
Retrieving the guacamole from the refrigerator she thought of the past few
months, thought of the future.  Changes were coming and while she'd miss it
being just the two of them, her lover had said it would be wonderful and
her lover was always right.  Returning to the bedroom she said, "What's the
progress on your stepmom?"

   "Bree will be ready any day now, then I'm counting on you to help carry
her over the finish line."

   Feeding him guacamole she said, "Y'now I've never been with a woman. 
I'm sure your stepmom will be the perfect introduction.  I'm looking
forward to it, a world without restrictions, where one's libido reigns
free. Speaking of which, it's still early.  Wanna join me in the hot tub?"

   * * * * *

   As I said earlier, on this particular Saturday night Bryan, Andrea, and
Bree were differently occupied.  We just learned about Bryan's big night.
Now let's move on to Andrea and Bree.

   Andrea was gathered with the gang at her boyfriend's house -- his
parents were out of town.  They raided the liquor supply, passed around a
couple of joints, and he started stroking her neck, giving her his
puppy-dog I-want-sex look.  Not in the mood, thinking why didn't he just
ask, but knowing she might as well get it over with, Andrea grabbed his
hand, led him to his parents' bedroom -- his was, as usual, a odorous mess.
After perfunctory foreplay he entered her -- why did such a big guy have
such a small dick -- and she put on the act that had become part of their
love-making (if that was the right word anymore), moaning and groaning and
squirming until he emptied himself in her.  She told him it was wonderful,
he was wonderful, the most perfectest lover in the world.  God, men
believed anything.

   They headed back downstairs to hang some more.

   * * * * *

   The kids out, Bree put on a nightgown skimpy enough to show off the
goods but not so skimpy as to be intimidating, played with her clit until
she was more than ready, and smelling of sex found her husband in the
living room.  She cooed, rubbed his shoulders.  In the bedroom she took him
in her mouth, got him hard.  He entered her from behind and she, rubbing
her clit, already primed, came quickly.  Then, surprised to have
accomplished something he hadn't in months, he lost both his concentration
and erection.

   He returned to the living room and his television, but his mind was
elsewhere.  Yeah, he'd lost his sex-drive, but he was sick of feeling
guilty about it.  If he wasn't interested in sex that was his right.  In a
world where one's libido could reign free, one had as much right to go
sexless, to focus on work, sports, or anything else, as to have sex.

   Still that, didn't solve Bree's problem, who was hornier than ever.  He
loved his wife and wanted this marriage to work.  And except for the sex,
things were good.  Bryan and Andrea's relationship was getting better every
day and Bryan and Bree, after a difficult beginning, had really bonded.  In
fact sometimes, the way she looked at him when he entered a room; it seemed
she had a little crush on him.  Not that he blamed her, there was something
magnetic about that kid.

   While her husband mused in front of the television, Bree was in the
shower.  She'd told herself she wouldn't, but she did.  When her husband
entered her in her mind's eye it had been Bryan.  Now she turned towards
the spigot, let the water run down her body, twirled a finger on her clit,
rolled a nipple between thumb and forefinger, imagined her stepson
hammering her body with his oversized dick.

   * * * * *

   Her husband asleep in bed, Bree was wearing a sheer short nightie,
holding a glass of wine, sitting in the dark, listening to music, running,
then re-running, the evening's events through her mind.  She could no
longer dismiss it as a passing infatuation; she had a thing for her
stepson. He'd always been intelligent, stable and confident, but in the
last months, as she'd come to appreciate him, to treat him like an adult,
she'd found him attentive, supportive, open-minded, perceptive, respectful,
assertive and decisive.  In the past few weeks she'd felt a chemistry
between them.  He might not be the heavily muscled man that has always been
her (and her daughter's) weakness, but his slender body was lean and fit
and oh so desirable.

   She wondered, why didn't he date?

   She heard the front door open, recognized his footsteps, said, "Hey
Bryan, I'm in here.  Your dad's asleep."

   Following the voice to the darkened living room Bryan said, "Evening
Bree, what ya' doin'?"

   "Sitting in the dark, contemplating existence.  Would you care to join
me?  Can I get you some wine?"

   "You look pretty comfortable, I'll get it myself."

   Returning with the bottle he topped Bree's glass, filled his own, sat on
the couch.  Bree, her back on the couch's arm, turned 180 degrees, leaned
her body into Bryan, and asked how it had gone with Ms.  Richards and the
yearbook.  He recounted the progress he and Bianca had made -- the yearbook
was near ready -- and, struck by Bryan's casual use of his beautiful
teacher's first name said, "Isn't there a rule against meeting a teacher
alone in her home?"

   "We weren't technically alone, her husband was there.  He keeps out of
the way.  Stays downstairs, watches television."

   The front door opened and Bree and Bryan heard Andrea in the front hall.
Andrea, stoned and a bit drunk, thrilled to find the lights out, was
unhappily surprised to find her mother and stepbrother, bodies entwined,
sitting on the couch, holding glasses of wine.  Discretion dulled,
inhibitions loosened, it occurred to her that they looked kinda right
together.

   "Hey sis."

   "Hey guys, you look comfortable."

   "Yeah, I was sitting here when your brother got home.  I asked him to
keep me company."

   Hoping to get to her room before her mother figured out what she'd been
doing Andrea said, "Great, well I'm pooped.  I'm going to bed," and headed
upstairs.

   It, of course, hadn't work; Bree had gone to college, she knew what pot
and liquor smelled like.  But she wasn't going to challenge her daughter,
she was eager to see her disappear so she could have Bryan to herself.  Her
body resting on his, chatting, touching, the two of them sat up awhile and,
as Andrea's odor dissipated, Bree realized Bryan smelled of chlorine.

   Later, after Bryan went to bed, Bree dropped the empty wine bottle in
with the other recyclables, put the glasses in the dishwasher, and
wondered. Had Bryan lied about being with Ms.  Richards?  Had he, instead,
been swimming?  But if he'd been with friends he'd have said so, there was
nothing to hide.  Had he taken a moonlight swim with the stunning Bianca
Richards?  If so, what had he worn?  His clothes were dry.

   No, it couldn't be, unless it was.  Teachers and their students did seem
to be a thing these days and Bryan was a remarkable young man.  If Bree had
a bit of a crush on him, why not the gorgeous Bianca Richards?  It would
explain why he didn't date.

   No, the thought was ridiculous, but the images of the two of them
crowding her mind weren't, they were fricking hot.  Parking herself on the
couch Bree played with her clit, imagined going upstairs, opening Bryan's
door, watching his slumbering body, his sheet rising and falling as he
filled his lungs with air, folding the sheet back, reaching for his cock.

   Before going to bed Bryan sent Bianca a text.  Bree was ready.

   * * * * *

   Bree looked at her phone; she didn't recognize the number.

   "Hello."

   "Hello, this is Bianca Richards, Bryan's year book adviser.  I was
calling for Bree Danielson."

   Making eye contact with her stepson across the kitchen table Bree said,
"This is Bree.  How are you Ms.  Richards?  Bryan said the yearbook is near
complete."

   "Please, call me Bianca.  Yes, it's at the publishers, which is why I'm
calling you.  The books will be delivered next Saturday and I was thinking
of having the students who've worked on it to my house for a party, an
unveiling thing.  It took some pleading, but Principal Strickland said if
it ends by 8:30 P.M., if there's no alcohol, and if its chaperoned, I can
do it.  Would you be interested?"

   Curious about her stepson's relationship with his beautiful brunette
teacher Bree said, "Of course, I'd love to help out."

   "Perhaps we could meet for lunch, discuss the details.  How 'bout
Emerald's."

   Pausing between each phrase to listen she said, "Sure..., what time...,
okay..., I'll be there," Bree hung up the phone and looking at her stepson
said, "Bryan, that was Bianca Richards.  She mentioned chaperoning a party
at her house next weekend, getting together for lunch at Emerald's."

   "Good.  We talked about it, she said she'd talk to Principal Strickland.
I didn't know he'd approved.  She'd asked if you'd be interested in
chaperoning.  I told her I thought so, but I didn't want to ask you until
it was a done deal."

   Andrea, contemplating the beautiful but conservative teacher, said, "Are
you sure Ms.  Richards said Emerald's?  I hear it's out there.  It's hard
to imagine Ms.  Richards fitting in."

   With a knowing smile Bryan said, "I don't know sis, working with her
these past months, there may be a bit of a wild streak there.  Why don't
you take this opportunity to get foxed up Mom, show off, have a good time."

   Bree looked at her daughter, who enthusiastically nodded her agreement.

   * * * * *

   Wearing a blue maxi-dress whose scooped front accented braless breasts
and long slit a slender muscled leg, it took Bree a second to spot Bianca.
It wasn't that Bianca was hard to find, she was impossible to miss, it was
just that Bree was looking for a married conservatively-garbed school
teacher and what was standing at the bar was sex on two legs.  Hair hanging
down to the small of her back in lustrous long black waves, Bianca wore
skin-tight ripped jeans, 3½ inch open toe sandals, and a form-fitting
long-sleeved white crop top shirt that celebrated her toned body.

   Bree was not the only person who noticed.  Leaning on the bar next to
Bianca was a young woman.  Spiked black hair, tattoos, multiple piercings,
her body language was aggressive and predatory while Bianca, although
clearly enjoying herself, politely fended off her advances.  Slipping the
sunglasses off her face Bree headed for the bar, catching Bianca's eye at
the last second, who reached for Bree's hand, leaned in to kiss her cheek,
and said, "Here's my date."

   Unfazed, the young woman stuck out her hand and said, "Nice to meet you.
My name is Paula."

   Bree took the hand into her own -- the woman had an impressive grip --
and said, "Bree, it's nice to meet you."

   Looking Bree up and down, smiling, Paula said, "I haven't seen you in
here before.  I'm sure I'd remember."

   "No, it's my first time."

   Winking Paula said, "Well, I hope its not your last.  It's a fun place.
I'll leave you two alone, catch you next time."

   As Paula disappeared into the crowd Bree sat on the stool next to Bianca
and said, "She was aggressive; I could feel her strip me with her eyes."

   Holding up her hand, displaying her wedding ring and holding a card,
Bianca said, "I know what you mean, she had me down to my undies and left
me her number.  I liked it; she's cute.  It's these rings, they mark us as
women looking to experiment and I hear few things interest these ladies
more than showing a first-timer the ropes.  It's best you and I convince
everyone we're together."

   Bree said, "Will do honey, but that ring is the least of your
attractions.  I'm sure you had to chase off a few."

   Bianca said, "You're right, I did.  I got here early, wanted to see if I
still have it; its nice knowing I can still attract the young-uns.  At
school I try to be understated; I want to be known as something other than
the hot teacher.  This is one of the few public places I can escape the
conservative schoolmarm thing.  No member of the school board would be
caught dead here, none could admit to being here.  Unfortunately in a
couple of years I'll start seeing my ex-students here and that will be it.
But that's enough about me, you're looking mighty fine."

   Bree said, "Thanks, the kids suggested I dress up a bit, have some fun.
I'm glad they did."

   Running her eyes up her companion's body Bianca said, "The kids knew
what they were talking about," then, changing the subject, took a sip of
her wine and said, "I recommend this Pinot, it goes wonderfully with the
salmon."

   Catching the bartenders's eye Bree gestured to Bianca's drink, ordering
one for herself.

   * * * * *

   Bree speared a piece of grilled salmon, let it sit on her tongue. 
Bianca was right.  It was excellent and went perfectly with the wine.

   "So tell me about the party."

   Bianca started, "It's really Bryan's idea.  He and I were working on the
final proofs last week," then, seeing the confusion on the pretty
red-head's face, paused and said, "Let me explain.  The printer provides
pre-publication proofs of the yearbook.  It's a complete yearbook, not
bound but a copy of every page.  It's so we can check everything, correct
any errors, make last second tweaks.  We divided the pages up among the
yearbook staff, everyone ended up with about twenty pages to review.  We
made the changes and returned them to the publisher.

   "After the publisher corrects the errors it sends a final proof so you
can ensure the changes were made.  It's a quick process, all you're doing
is checking the changes, and Bryan decided we didn't need the entire staff,
so he and I sat by my pool and did it.  He was right, the publisher did a
great job, we finished faster than expected."

   Bianca paused, scanned the crowded room, and adopting a conspiratorial
tone dropped the tone of her voice.  "What happens next is kinda against
the rules.  Can you keep it between us girls?"

   Intrigued, Bree said, Sure."

   "Well, we're done early, I've got nothing planned, my husband is in the
basement watching basketball -- boring -- it's a beautiful night and I'm
feeling like a glass of champagne to celebrate, so I suggest to Bryan that
we take a dip in the hot tub.  He gets the champagne and some glasses from
the kitchen and I text my husband, let him know what's going on so he won't
disturb us."

   As Bree imagined this stunning woman slipping into a hot tub with her
stepson Bianca continued.  "I've loved working with your stepson.  He's an
extraordinary young man, so gifted, so talented, so handsome.  And with all
the hours we've spent together we've become quite close."

   "I know he's loved working with you and you're right, he is special."

   "So Bryan and I are sitting there, letting the churning water wash over
our bodies, and Bryan pours me a second glass of champagne and says,
'Bianca, this is wonderful, but y'know everyone's worked hard on the
yearbook, we should celebrate together, have a pre-publication party."

   "The next day I sat down with Principal Strickland.  Initially he's
against it, but I suggest some rules -- chaperones, no alcohol, over by
8:30 -- show him some leg, a little cleavage, he comes around."

   Sipping her wine, Bree thought about Bianca flashing the principal, then
about Bianca's husband.  What did he think of all this, of giving up a
weekend night in favor of a high school party, of the hours his wife spent
on the yearbook?  What did he think of his wife taking a dip in a hot tub
with another man, especially a man as attractive as her stepson?  Wanting
to know more, Bree asked an open ended question.

   "I've gotta admire your husband, not objecting to all the time you've
spent on this project."

   Bianca laid her hand atop Bree's and said, "Y'know, at first he did. 
Men can be so petty and possessive.  But then he met Bryan, and the more he
met Bryan, the more he liked him.  He also saw what the project meant to
me, how working on it, working with your stepson, made me feel productive
and happy.  My husband understands, or at least he's come to, that he can't
fulfil all my needs."

   Thinking about her own husband's failing sex drive Bree, with an
unintended edge to her voice, said, "You're right about that, they can't."

   Bianca said, "But I'm afraid all we've done is talk about me.  Bryan
tells me you and his father are newlyweds.  How is that working out?  I
mean, especially with teenagers, it must be difficult blending two families
together."

   Feeling at ease with this woman, and helped along by a second glass of
wine, Bree was candid.  "At first it was.  Bryan was unhappy with the whole
thing -- and I understand.  It was a whirlwind courtship; I only met Bryan
once before I became his stepmother.  I also underestimated him, treated
him as a kid.  As I came to see how special and mature he is, as I treated
him like an adult, things improved.  Even my daughter's coming around,
learning to show Bryan the proper love and respect."

   Bianca said, "I've noticed things changed at school.  She used to barely
acknowledge him, now you see them talking all the time."

   Increasingly comfortable with each other, absorbed by the looseness of
the surroundings, the conversation continued, growing more intimate until
Bianca, noticing the time, signaled for the check, dismissed Bree's offer
to pay, then reached for her new friend's hand and said, "Remember we have
an audience and roles, two married ladies considering pushing the edge of
the envelope."

   Eyes following their progress, Bianca walked Bree to her car, opened the
door for her, leaned forward, said, "Remember, two married ladies going
where our libido takes us." At the repetition of the phrase Bree had heard
a thousand times each night for months the ladies' lips brushed each other.
They both felt a charge.

   * * * * *

   Driving home, hormones surging, Bree replayed the last few hours in her
mind.  Bianca had chosen Emerald's, had chosen her clothing, because she
wanted Bree to know conservative schoolmarm was a role Bianca played.  The
real Bianca was a highly sexual creature.

   Bianca also wanted Bree to know about a husband who couldn't fulfill her
needs, who accepted Bryan's role in her life, who'd fallen asleep while his
wife shared a hot tub with an attractive young man.  Bianca was fucking her
stepson, or wanted to, and she wanted Bree to know.  It should be something
she'd hide; most parents would have already called the police.  But Bree
knew she wouldn't.  She understood; she had a thing for her stepson and
what young man would say no to Bianca.

   * * * * *

   When she got home, her voice echoing in the house, Bree yelled, "Hello,
anybody here."

   There were footsteps in the upstairs hallway and then Bryan's voice. 
"Just me Bree, everybody else is out."

   When had Bryan started using her first name?  She liked it, liked the
familiarity.

   "I'm going to pour myself a glass of wine, do you want anything?"

   "Some water would be nice, no ice."

   * * * * *

   Handing Bryan his water, Bree sat on his bed and legs spread, leaning
against the headboard, said, "I had a really nice visit with Bianca.  I'm
on as a chaperone."

   Turning his computer chair in her direction, giving her his full
attention, Bryan said, "I know, she called.  She said you two had a good
time, had to chase off a few admirers.  I told her I wasn't surprised, two
such beautiful women."

   Bree said, "She was being kind.  It was Bianca who was the center of
attention.  The woman's gorgeous, and not above a little flirting herself."

   Bryan, scanning his stepmother up and down, said, "If you say so, but as
good as you look it's a hard to believe she was the only one the crowd was
watching.  It will be nice having you as my date Saturday night."

   Bree said, "Is that what I'm going to be, you're date?  You talk like
that much more and you'll make your father jealous."

   "If he can't protect what's his, he doesn't deserve it.  Speaking of
which, Dad and Andrea are going to be out for awhile.  Want to catch a
movie?"

   When Bryan's father got home he found the televison on and his son and
wife sitting on the couch, she leaning her body into his, his arm draped
over her shoulder and laying across her chest.

   They seemed so happy and comfortable he started to apologize for
bothering them, but Bryan said, "Why don't you sit down Dad, tell us about
your day."

   Later that night Edward and Bree lay in bed together, drifting towards
sleep, the voices singing in praise of Bryan, his magnetism, his skill as a
lover, the inadequacy of any other man, of a world without restrictions,
where one's libido reigned free.

   While the voices left Edward increasingly comfortable with his flagging
sex drive, he thought of his wife.  As made clear by her daily
masturbation, her sexual appetites were growing.  She deserved to have
those needs satisfied.  He didn't want a potentially destructive affair? 
Was there another way?  Something unconventional?  Bryan?  No, that was
insane.

   Laying next to him Bree was thinking about her handsome stepson, the
ladies at Emerald's, the gorgeous Bianca.  Was Bianca bi?  She rolled the
idea around her mind, found she liked it.  Shit, not only was her sex drive
intensifying, it was becoming more daring, more inclusive.  What would it
be like if one's libido reigned free.  Then maybe Bryan?  No, that was
insane.

   * * * * *

   It was the night of the party and north of town Brian turned off the
main road and proceeded down a hard dirt drive.  The house it led to became
visible as the car made its way around a final copse of trees.

   "Very nice.  They pay teachers better than I thought."

   Saying, "I suspect its family money, although Roy's an engineer, I'm
sure he does pretty well," Bryan drove by the front of the house, where
several cars were parked in a long circular driveway, and parked in the
garage.

   "Bryan?"

   "Bianca asked me and my hot date to park in their garage.  You look
great Bree."

   "When did I give you permission to use my first name?"

   "I'm not sure you did, but it would be unusual to call my date Mom.  Do
you want me to stop?"

   "No, but next time ask."

   "Sure, may I call you Bree?"

   "Okay."

   As Bree checked her make-up in the car mirror Bryan walked around the
car, held the door open for her.  Her hand in his, he led her though a side
door into the house.  She noticed he felt comfortable enough not to knock.

   * * * * *

   The party was a restrained affair, centered on the kids, who spent the
evening going through the yearbook, laughing, exchanging stories,
reminiscing.  Bree's focus, however, was on Bianca and Roy.  They were
thoughtful energetic hosts, checking on their guests, making sure everyone
was happy.  If there was a problem between the two of them Bree saw no sign
of it.

   An hour into the soiree, getting Roy to herself, she asked him about the
house and he volunteered to show her around.  As they did Roy praised
Bryan, told Bree what a wonderful young man he was, mature and intelligent,
and how his wife enjoyed working with him.  The praise was so fulsome it
bordered on over-the-top, but Bree could detect only sincerity in Roy's
countenance and respect in his voice.

   That's when Bianca wandered in.  "I was wondering where you two had
gotten to."

   Roy said, "Bree asked about the house.  I was giving her a tour."

   Bree said, "He was; it's absolutely lovely."

   Bianca said, "Thank you dear, and if you don't mind finishing the tour
with me, Roy darling, Mrs.  Buckner is in the kitchen raving about your
guacamole.  She is dying for your recipe.  Can you help her?"

   Saying, "Of course," Roy kissed his wife's cheek and returned to his
guests while Bree said, "I was just about to ask your husband about the
still life over the sofa."

   Bianca stepped beside Bree, lay a hand on the back of Bree's neck, and
said, "It's my favorite, a Meurer.  It's been in Roy's family for
generations.  When Roy and I were dating I told his mother how much I loved
it.  You can imagine my surprise when she gave it to us as a wedding gift."

   As Bree studied the piece Bianca began kneading the muscles on the back
of Bree's neck.  Bianca's hours in the gym were evident, her hands and
fingers powerful, and Bree soon dropped her head forward and let out a low
moan.  "That was generous and this feels so good."

   Continuing to work Bree's neck Bianca said, "I'm glad you like it.  At
8:30, when everybody else leaves, I'd like it if you held back, stayed
awhile.  I talked to your date, he's on board."

   "I'll need to text my husband, but I can't imagine he'll have a problem.
What's going on?"

   "Just a chance for the three of us to get to know each other better."

   * * * * *

   Watching the final guest climb into her car Bianca said, "I hope
everyone had a good time."

   Bree said.  "I'm sure they did; I know I did.  It was fun watching the
kids with the yearbook.  What do you think son?"

   Placing his hand on the small of his stepmother's back Bryan said,
"Everyone had a blast."

   Roy said, "They were even neat, it'll take me only a few minutes to
straighten up.  Darling, why don't I do that while you entertain our
guests."

   Bianca protested, Roy stood firm, and Bianca said, "Thank you dear,
that's sweet.  Bree, Bryan, let's go out on the deck.  It's a lovely night.
Bryan, please grab the champagne and three glasses."

   * * * * *

   Sitting in a surprisingly comfortable lawn chair, taking a sip of
champagne -- it was first rate stuff - Bree said, "Bianca you're right,
it's delightful out here."

   "It takes a few more minutes to get to school, but living in the country
has its advantages.  You get all this peace and quiet and beauty, and you
get privacy.  At night, if you're quiet, you can sit out here or on the
bedroom balcony and watch the wildlife stroll by."

   Bryan, who'd been sitting next to Bianca, his hand resting on her thigh,
stood, stretched, and said, "She's right," then placed his champagne glass
on the edge of the chair and said.  "Who's up for a swim?'

   Bree said, "Did you bring a swim suit?"

   Pulling his shirt over his heard Bryan said, "Who said anything about a
swim suit?"

   Then Bree, spellbound, watched her stepson toss his shirt aside, loosen
his belt, step out of his shorts -- she saw the outline of his penis in his
underpants -- and jump into the water, surfacing to say, "The temperature's
just right, come on in."

   Reaching under the surface of the water Bryan worked his underpants down
his legs and tossed them onto the pool deck.

   Bree looked to Bianca who, nonplussed, leaned forward, lay her hand on
Bree's shoulder, and said as if it was the only possible concern, "There's
no need to worry Bree, we have all the privacy we need here.  There's not
another house for acres," then, underlining her point, turned her back to
the red head, casually unbuttoned her shirt, lay it over the back of her
chair, and said, "Would you mind?"

   Surprised, but taking instruction, Bree undid the snaps of Bianca's bra,
who lay it over her shirt and turned to Bree.

   And although she'd told herself not to, Bree eyed the brunette's
breasts. She had perfect tits.  The woman spent serious time in the gym;
there was barely a sag.  Seeing Bree's admiring glance Bianca said, "I'd
love to see yours."

   Bree looked to Bianca, then to Bryan.  While she'd suspected something
was going on between them, she'd never imagined they'd be this casual about
it.  While their relationship was forbidden, there was no embarrassment or
shame here.  They were living the life Bree had been dreaming about, a
world where libido reigned free.  Now they were asking Bree to join them,
as unconcerned that she was Bryan's stepmother as they were that Bianca was
his teacher.  Or was that an attraction, making the whole thing a wee bit
hotter?

   As Bree watched Bianca stood, undid her belt, shimmied out of her short
green dress.  She wore no panties.  Bree noticed details until then hidden:
Bianca's neatly trimmed pussy hair and surprisingly small nipples, darker
in color than the rest of her olive skin.

   She turned to Bree and said, "Why don't you join us?"

   "What about your husband?"

   "My husband?  He's lost his sex drive, but sees no reason that I should
ignore mine.  As I'm sure you've figured out by now my husband knows all
about Bryan and me.  He approves; we'll not see him the rest of the
evening."

   Bianca held out her hand and Bree, her last objection swept aside,
thinking, "If I only have the courage," curled her fingers a round the
bottom hem of her blouse, pulled it over her head, unbuckled her bra, and
draped them both over the back of her chair.  Then, picking up her glass of
champagne, she took a long drink and reached for Bianca's hand.

   Bianca was looking at her breasts.

   "Do you like them?"

   Saying, "Very much, those lovely red nipples match your hair perfectly,"
Bianca unhooked Bree's skirt, then held it so Bree could step out of it. 
"I think you'll love the pool, but boys jump in, ladies take the steps."
Their hands locked together, Bianca guided her companion to the pool's far
end, where the two woman descended the steps into the warm water.

   It was, Bryan thought, every man's fantasy.  Two beautiful older woman,
one a curvy buxom brunette with thick long hair and dark eyes, the other a
pale slender red-head, hair in a pixie cut with bright green eyes.  Both
were devoted to him, incapable of jealously, happy to share, ready to
experiment.

   And, as if to make his point, Bianca stopped in waist deep water, turned
to Bree, and her hand grazing Bree's stomach, her fingers brushing across
her pubic mound, said, "I see why your stepson is so attracted to you." Her
hand continued down, caressed Bree's inner thigh.  "He's not the only one
who noticed this enticing body."

   Bianca leaned forward; Bree hesitated.  She'd never kissed a woman, at
least not like this, but realized she wanted to.  Yes, she wanted to kiss
Bianca; wanted to do it while her stepson watched.  What better way to
embrace this new life?  She brought her mouth to Bianca's once, twice, and
found herself pressing her body into her friend, lost in her lips and her
wonderful kisses.

   Bianca slid a finger the length of Bree's sex, said, "I'm your stepson's
lover, I'd like to be yours," and pushed the finger inside Bree's pussy. 
Bree momentarily stiffened, but otherwise offered no resistance and as
Bianca began to pump her finger in and out Bree opened her mouth in a low
moan.  Taking advantage, Bianca slid her tongue into Bree's mouth, running
her thumb on Bree's clit.

   Ending the kiss Bianca said, "You have an amazing body," lowered her
head, cocked it to the side, and sucked Bree's breast into her mouth,
nursing reverently on her hard nipple.  Bianca's hands roamed over Bree's
body; Bree, confidence growing, covered and squeezed Bianca's fat breasts.
Through it all Bianca's right hand remained busy between Bree's legs, which
were spread wide open.

   They continued like that for several happy minutes, Bryan enthralled by
the intertwined bodies of his teacher and stepmother, until Bianca let
Bree's breast slip from her mouth and whispered something in her ear.  Bree
giggled, looked at Bryan, nodded her head yes, and the two women turned to
face him.

   Bree, hard red nipples standing tall on her lovely pale tits, said,
"Enjoying the show, stepson?'

   Dog paddling in her direction Bryan said, "Yes stepmother."

   "Well stepson, Bianca and I have reached an agreement."

   "What kind of agreement?"

   "About sharing you."

   When he reached her she cupped his balls and backed him up to the side
of the pool, then kissed him, just a peck, and giggled.  "What would your
father say if he could see this?"

   Bianca, who had followed them, said, "I'm sure he'll be like my Roy,
happy with an arrangement that relieves him of his embarrassing inability
to satisfy his wife, happy that his wife is being satisfied."

   Not sure, but buoyed by Bianca's confidence, Bree kissed her stepson
again and, finding she quite enjoyed it, kissed him again, then again, and
soon, eyes closed, months of suppressed desire racing through their bodies,
their tongues, traveling back and forth between their mouths, slid,
caressed, dueled and danced on each other.

   As the new lovers kissed Bianca took Bree's hand in her own, placed it
on Bryan's dick, and the ladies, their fingers wrapped around his shaft,
twisted their hands on him.

   When Bree, coming up for air, pulled her mouth from Bryan's, Bianca
said, "Bryan why don't you go ahead and sit on the edge of the pool."

   Planting his feet on the bottom, using his hands for leverage, Bryan
lept from the water in a single hard motion, ending up on the lip of the
pool, his hard cock jutting forward at a forty-five degree angle.

   Bianca wrapped her hand around its base and pointed it at Bree, who
said, "Somehow I knew it was going to be big." Opening her mouth, ready and
eager -- blow jobs were features in of her most recent dreams of her
stepson -- Bree wrapped her warm wet lips around the cock and, flicking her
tongue on the underside, slid down.  Bianca moved her hand from his shaft
to his balls, caressing them as Bree sucked until, moaning into his man
meat, Bree slid her lips back up his length, took hold of Bryan's cock,
and, her eyes locked on his, licked the crown with the enthusiasm of a
child rewarded with an ice cream cone at the end of a stifling summer day.

   Bianca, whose hand continued to tease Bryan's balls, lowered her head
and ran her tongue up and down Bryan's shaft.

   Leaning back on his hands, Bryan moaned in otherworldly lust, as Bree
offered his dick to Bianca.  She slid her face over it, rolled her head
back and forth, then pulled off it and offered it to Bree, who sank her
face onto it til she gagged.  After she pulled back the two women trapped
his cockhead between their mouths, their tongues sliding on and against it
and each other.

   As they did Bree stroked her hand up and down his shaft; Bianca
continued to play with his balls.

   And Bryan, for all his practice over the past months, soon reached the
limits of his endurance.  Placing a hand on his lovers' shoulders, he was
soon jabbing his cock in and out of their mouths.  When Bianca felt his
testicles tighten and retreat into his body she yanked her mouth from his
dick, turned it to Bree, who opened her mouth as Bryan exploded, sending
jets of jism in her direction.  Some ended up in her mouth; more splattered
her chin and cheeks.

   And before the pool's water could wash it away Bianca leaned in, licked
the cum from Bree's face.  The women exchanged a long kiss, sharing Bryan's
seed.

   When they were done Bianca said, "Y'know, I've never been with a woman
before."

   Genuinely surprised, Bree said, "Really, you seemed so comfortable at
Emerald's and, well, as best I can tell you're really good at it."

   "Emerald's?  I guess I'm a good actress; I was nervous.  How about you?"

   "First time for me too, but it won't be the last."

   "Good, because I don't think you and I are near done with this cock."

   Saying, "Not remotely," Bree leaned in to lick up and down the shaft. 
Bianca focused on his balls, licking, then sucking them into her mouth,
rolling them around on her tongue.  In moments Bryan was hard and Bianca,
looking at the house, knowing her husband was asleep in the basement's
spare bedroom, said, "This is fun but we'll be more comfortable inside."

   The three of them hurried out of the pool, hurriedly toweled themselves
off -- a little water on the floor wouldn't damage anything -- then, Bianca
opening the sliding glass door leading to the deck, they headed inside and
up the stairs.  Entering the bedroom Bree stopped short, glanced around,
took in the unusually large bed, the mirror on the wall, the bottles of
massage oil and passel of sex toys on the bed's sidetables.

   "You guys turned this into quite the fuck den."

   "Yes, Bryan and I made a few changes.  When Bryan's not here my husband
and I still sleep together, but in a smaller bedroom down the hall.  This
is reserved for Bryan, me, and from now on, you.  I expect you'll be a
regular visitor."

   "You can count on it."

   Saying, "Good," Bianca pounced onto the bed and, motioning for Bree to
join her, rolled on to her back and said, "Now Bryan, who do you want to
fuck first?"

   His eye's darting from his teacher's massive breasts and womanly curves
to his stepmother's slender muscular frame, Bryan said, "Well, there's no
wrong choice here, but I think Bree has waited long enough," and falling to
his knees dropped his head to her pussy, taking one long lick from bottom
to top.  He turned to Bianca, licked her, decided Bree's juice was heavier
and thicker, Bianca's had a stronger flavor, and continued licking and
exploring, flicking clits, sucking pussy lips, lapping up cunt juice,
sinking his tongue into swollen vaginas, until Bianca said, "So who tastes
better?"

   Lifting his head, smiling, Bryan said, "You both do."

   Swatting her stepson with a pillow Bree said, "Cheater," but Bryan,
unoffended, stood at the foot of the bed, slipped his hands under her
thighs, and dragged her forward so her hips were on the edge of the bed, he
between her legs.

   Taking the pillow, stuffing it under her ass, Bree said, "Okay, I take
it back.  Oh god son, I've been waiting for this.  Fuck me, please fuck me.
You have no idea how long I've wanted this."

   Bryan placed his dick on her sex, thrust; his cock slid easily into her
slippery wet pussy.  Bree moaning, "Mmmmmmm yeah," he left his cock buried
inside her tight fiery hole, savoring the feeling of her pussy walls
molding themselves to him.  Her sex life with her husband having dwindled
to near nothing she was wonderfully tight and he slowly slid back until
only his cock-head remained inside, then watched his teacher roll onto her
side.  She covered one of Bree's breast with her hand, dragged her tongue
across the other.

   Bryan thrust back into his stepmother, who clamped down on him with
experienced pussy muscles.  Bryan again held still, savoring the sensation
of Bree's pussy pulsating on his pole, before pulling back, pushing in.  As
Bianca licked and squeezed Bree's breasts Bree began humping against
Bryan's cock.  The two of them picked up the pace, Bryan pistoning his hard
cock in and out, Bree thrusting her hips forward to meet him.

   Bianca pressed a thumb to Bree's swollen clit, swirling it on the
sensitive nub.

   Bree, her hands wrapped around her inner thighs, pulled her legs up and
back, opening her body to her stepson.

   "Ohhhhhhhhh fuck Bryan, ohhhhhhhhh fuck."

   They fucked on; Bree's pussy muscles pulsed in rhythm with Bryan's
pummeling strokes; her clit throbbed under Bianca's knowing touch.

   "Uggghhhhhhhhh, yes.  Bianca, keep doing, keep doing, my clit, clit. 
I'm getting so close."

   Bryan grabbed her legs, held them to his body, lifting her to meet his
thrusts as he battered her with his cock.  Fueled by months of unfilled
desire stepmother and stepson went at it until Bree, screaming her joy,
abdicated control, her body writhing and jerking each time Bryan bottomed
out inside her.

   Twisting the bed spread in her hands, her pussy muscles spasming,
fearing the pressure inside her would tear her apart, Bree gritted her
teach and said, "Oh yes, I need, I need, I need, I need...."

   That's when Bianca, timing perfect, pivoted forward and started licking
Bree's clit.

   "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck yes, I'm commmmmming."

   Bree's pussy muscles clenched, her hips jerked, and Bryan, his dick on
fire, in awe of the two stunning women laid out before him, threw his head
back, and roared.  His dick twitched and shook and fired the evening's
second load of cum into his stepmother until, staggering forward, he
collapsed onto the bed, rolled onto his back, took his stepmother's hand in
his.  Through dazed eyes they watched Bianca, dear kinky Bianca, slide onto
the floor, cup Bree's ass cheeks, gently pull Bree's red-haired pussy to
her face, then, her joy evident, lick up the mix of cum and pussy juice
dripping from Bree's soggy cunt.

   Bree lazily laid a hand atop Bianca's head and said, "Oh, that feels so
good.  No one has ever eaten me after I've been fucked.  Is it gross?"

   Dipping two fingers inside Bree, coating then with the magical
concoction flowing from her pussy, Bianca held them to Bree's face and
said, "Pussy juice and cum?  Taste great.  What would you expect?  But
don't take my word for it.  Try some for yourself."

   Holding Bianca's wrist, Bree licked up one side of her fingers, then
happily sucked them into her mouth, murmuring around the digits before
letting them escape her mouth and saying, "You're right, delicious.  I am
going to learn so much from you two."

   Re-inserting one finger into Bree's pussy, coating it with cum and
juice, Bianca teased Bree's virgin anus, already well-lubricated from the
flow dripping from Bree's sex, and worked it inside to Bree's delighted
squeal.

   "That you are Bree, that you are."


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