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From: "E.Z. Riter" <ezriter@hotmail.com>
Subject: {EZ} MyInheritance1 Uncle Bert (MC, everything)
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The attached work of fiction is intended to be entertainment for
adults in locations in which it is legal. If it is illegal in your
location, DO NOT read. This is a copyrighted work. Reposting or any
other use strictly prohibited without the express, written permission
of the copyright holder, except may by posted as part of a review or
posted to free-access, non-commercial archive sights.
Copyright 1998 by EzRiter.
Email address: ezriter@hotmail.com
This is a mind control, multi person romance, with a planned thirty
plus chapters. Please give me your comments.
MY INHERITANCE
Chapter 1
Uncle Bert
My name is David Bertram Wilson. Barely twenty-one, I had just
graduated summa cum laude in chemistry and physics from Rice
University in Houston. All my family are scientists, orderly,
logical, boring types. My father is a nuclear physicist, my mother a
biochemist. All my aunts and uncles are scientists, too. My
grandfather had seven boys. He named them Andrew, Bertram, Charles,
Donald, Edward, Frank and George. I told you we are very orderly
people.
We are a very close family but the person I always felt closest to was
my Uncle Bert. Uncle Bert was different, the odd one, so to speak.
While all the others had significant positions in research with major
corporations or key professorships at major universities, Uncle Bert
was a maverick. He had sold some patents early in his life and
invested the money. He had homes in Vail and Aspen but he usually
lived in an old ranch house in the Rockies above Glenwood Springs. He
was always experimenting on something or another. Every Christmas I
could remember, Uncle Bert spent with us, or, us with him in the
mountains skiing.
Since I was a small boy, my parents sent me to spend the summer with
him each year. I loved Uncle Bert. Out of all those stiff science
types, we were kindred spirits, cutting up, laughing, joking. Uncle
Bert would want to just lie in the sun and sleep sometimes, or chase
butterflies, or, when I was older, chase women. I could never imagine
any of the others doing that. In fact, I felt more like him, closer
to him, than I did my own parents.
I had just finished unloading my car in LA where my parents both teach
at UCLA when we got the news. Uncle Bert had died. His lawyer called
to tell us the news. I was in shock. I knew he had suffered a major
heart attack eight months ago, but we all thought he had fully
recovered. The lawyer asked to speak to me. Telling me I had been
appointed executor and primary beneficiary of Uncle Bert's estate, he
asked me to come to Denver immediately. I took the next plane and met
with the lawyer the next morning. He reviewed Uncle Bert's legal
situation, filed the will for me and gave me the keys to Uncle Bert's
homes.
The lawyer said, as he gave me an envelope, "Your Uncle left this for
you, David. I do not know what is inside."
It was terse note which read, "Go to my ranch house. Call 555-4567
and ask for Andy. It is very important."
I met with the bank trust department who managed all his money. I
found Uncle Bert had left enough for me to have about $20 million
after taxes and gifts to others, not including the three houses. My
parents and all his siblings had been left nice sums and trusts of $1
million each had been established for Mary Mathews and Andrea Mathews.
I had never heard of them but I knew Uncle Bert knew a lot of people.
I finished with the bank and called the lawyer to tell him I was going
into the mountains to Uncle Bert's . . . now, my . . . house. I was
going to rent a car but the lawyer said Uncle Bert's new Broncho was
waiting for me. I pointed the Broncho up Interstate 70 and headed
into the mountains.
Memories of Uncle Bert flooded through me as the miles ticked away.
He was always there, giving me presents, advise: giving me love and
guidance. He had never married and it seemed I was his total focus
when I was with him. In the summer, we would go fishing, hiking,
dreaming. We did not always stay in the Rockies. Uncle Bert took all
over America, and to Europe and the Far East as I was growing up.
Each summer was a wonderful, exciting and, educational adventure.
When I got to puberty, I understood why Uncle Bert was single. He
would never be satisfied with one woman. My mind flashed back to the
summer I was fourteen.
"Davy," Uncle Bert said, "some friends of mine are coming for a visit.
They will be here about two weeks."
"Oh, Uncle Bert, I was hoping we could do things together," I said
petulantly.
"We will, Davy. We will." I saw the twinkle in his eye.
"Do you know about the birds and the bees, Davy?"
"Of course. Biology is . . . "
"No, Davy," he interrupted. "Do you know about women? Pussy? Sex?
Fucking?"
I turned a bright red. My parents were so conservative, "Touched By
An Angel" was too risque for them.
"No," I croaked.
"Are you a virgin?"
No man at any age likes to admit he is a virgin. But, I was. "Yes,
sir," I said shame faced.
"Davy, you are only fourteen. Don't be embarrassed. Do you
masturbate?"
I wanted to sink into the floor but I nodded affirmatively. He
laughed. I loved Uncle Bert's laugh. It was strong, happy, masculine.
"Well, Davy. You may not want these two weeks to end."
"What do you mean?"
He smiled and got up to get more coffee, refusing to discuss it
further. About five that afternoon, a Dodge Caravan drove up the long
gravel road to the ranch house. The doors opened and three females got
out.
"Davy, this is Susan Stevens and her daughters, Sandy and Sara." As
we unloaded their car, Uncle Bert said, "Davy, put the girls' things
in your bedroom." I froze, my mind whirring. I had a hard-on most of
the day wondering what Uncle Bert's cryptic comments this morning
meant. Now, it was a steel rod and I was afraid the girls would see
it. They did.
Sandy firmly grabbed my cock through my jeans.
"You a virgin?" she asked. That was the second time that day I was
embarrassed to answer that question, but I did.
"So is Sara," Sandy replied. "Don't worry. Neither of you will be
virgins in the morning." I thought I would shoot right there.
As the evening progressed, I learned Sandy was sixteen and Sara was
fourteen, like me. Both of them looked like their mother, tall, slim,
tiny waists, small, high breasts. They had long brown hair and huge,
soft chocolate eyes over a cute nose and full lips. We visited, ate
and played Monopoly. It was only eight fifteen when Uncle Bert said,
"Well, it is my bedtime." He stood, took Susan's hand and headed for
his bedroom. We three teenagers just stared at each other.
Sandy laughed. "Come on, virgins. We need to go to bed, too," she
said, heading for our bedroom. I looked at Sara, expecting to see her
blush. Her face was raw, wanton lust. My cock quivered as it
quickly hardened. I had never undressed in front of a girl before,
and, the only girl I had seen naked was my cousin Debbie, one of Uncle
Donald's daughters. I started to unbutton my shirt.
"Davy," Sara whispered, desire dripping from her voice. "May I undress
you?"
"If I can undress you," I replied.
"OK," she giggled. As Sara's small, dainty fingers fumbled with my
buttons, I became instantly aware of the heat rising from her and of
the smell. It was something I had never smelled before. It was
something I immediately knew I would love forever.
It was the smell of pussy.
I should tell you how I feel about pussy. Some guys say a real man
would never eat pussy. I say a man who does not eat pussy: (a) is a
macho asshole too stupid to know what he is missing, and, (b) does not
truly love women. How can a man say he loves women and not want to
bury himself in her essence: to smell it, touch it, lick it, taste it,
feel its heat, its slimy, sweet stickiness. Saying you like women but
don't eat pussy is like saying your love roses but do not want to
touch or smell one. When I eat pussy, I sometimes stick my prominent
nose in there, rubbing the bridge against her clit as I smell and
taste her. And, I have never had a woman push my mouth away from her,
unless she is so exhausted from orgasming she needs to rest.
But, I did not know all this at that moment when Sara Stevens began
unbuckling my belt. All I knew was I was going to get laid for the
first time and that thought and her smells were driving me mad.
I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. Sandy had stripped naked.
She lay back on the beg, spread her legs, and was slowly fingering
herself. I felt Sara slip to her knees in front of me as she pulled
my boxers down. Sara was staring right at my cock, her big eyes
unblinking. As I felt the precum ooze from me, I wondered how much
longer I would be a virgin.
Sandy knelt beside her sister.
"Young men go off real quickly unless they have had an orgasm or two.
Do you want him to cum in your mouth, sis?"
"Yes, but not right now," Sara replied.
"Watch me then. Watch how my mouth works him. Hold his balls. You can
tell when he is going to cum that way." I felt Sara cup my balls in
her hand and heard her rapid breathing. Sandy's tongue flicked out to
lick my pre cum away. Then, my cock disappeared in her mouth. I felt
her apply a vacuum as her tongue whipped back and forth on the
underside of my prick.
Sara squealed as I starting shooting in Sandy's mouth. I put a hand on
each of their heads for balance as Sandy slurped away. My very first
blow job was very enjoyable indeed. Sandy grabbed her sister by the
back of the neck, kissing her hard, her tongue down Sara's throat.
Sara struggled a little at first, then relaxed, letting her sister
rape her mouth. I realized Sandy had not swallowed me but was
transferring my cum to Sara.
They both had white gooey spunk on their lips when Sandy broke the
kiss.
"Like it?" Sandy asked. She was the sixteen-year-old sex pro teaching
us "kids" the ropes.
"Yeah," Sara replied, her voice full of amazement.
"You will learn to love it, sis. A real woman is always a first class
cock sucker and loves to swallow cum. I cannot get enough."
"Can I try?" Sara asked.
"Ask him." Sara looked at me with huge, hot bubbling eyes. "Can I
suck your cock, Davy?"
I nodded happily but I thought, "what a stupid question."
Sara wrapped her lips around me. I was swelling rapidly.
"It is so big," Sara said.
"Yes. Don't expect all men to be that big. And, Davy is not finished
growing."
That one comment did enough for my ego for a lifetime. As Sandy
quietly gave her instructions, sweet, fourteen year old, Sara Stevens
was learning to suck cock. I was the beneficiary of her education.
Sandy even instructed her on how to deep throat although Sara did not
get the hang of it yet. I felt a load coming. So did Sara. She
started sucking harder but when I went off in her mouth, she gagged
and pulled back. I shot spunk on her face as Sara tried to swallow
what she could. Sandy licked her sister clean.
After Sara and I floated down from her afterglows, I helped the girls
to their feet.
"My turn," I said as I reached for the buttons on Sara's blouse.
"No, no," Sandy said. "Very slowly. Take your time."
"No. Do it real quick, Davy. I want you in me," Sara snapped. She was
naked in a flash. Sara and I climbed on the bed.
"Now, slowly, Davy," Sandy instructed.
"Shut, up, Sandy," Sara and I said simultaneously. I felt Sara's hand
on my cock as she guided me into her.
Since I had cum, I could last longer; probably a lot longer, although
I was too inexperienced to know that. All I knew was my cock was in a
cunt for the first time in my life. Sara was tight, so very tight,
like my own fist. She squirmed as I pushed. I felt something resist
my entrance.
"It is her hymen, David," Sandy said.
"Sis, this will hurt but he has to break it."
"Just do it. I want to be fucked," Sara groaned.
"Push hard and fast," Sandy ordered. I did. Sara screamed. I pulled
out and saw the blood.
"It's OK. Now, go back in her and fuck her." I hesitated.
"You heard her! Fuck me!" Sara barked. I did. Sara wrapped her legs
around me and held on for dear life. Her smallish tits were hot
diamonds burning a hole in my chest as I pounded away. "Oh, Davy,
hurry," she whimpered urging me to fuck her harder, not that I needed
any encouragement.
Then, it happened. I knew at once what it was, and, I knew I would be
addicted to it the rest of my life. I felt her legs tightened, heard
her breathing quicken. She tilted her hips upward and held my ass to
her, maximizing my penetration. Her back arched as she whimpered
quietly. I had experienced a woman's orgasm on my cock. There is
nothing like it.
That is how I lost my virginity, many thanks to Uncle Bert. We did
not stop there. For two weeks, sex education class was in session. I
also deflowered Sara's cute, tight ass. And, I screwed Sandy and
their mother, Susan, as well. I learned Sandy lost her virginity to
Uncle Bert about eight months before. They taught me everything from
both a woman's and a man's perspective.
Those two weeks were my first time to fuck a pussy, an ass, a mouth,
two women, three women, first threesome, foursome and fivesome. All
in all, it was best two weeks any fourteen-year-old guy ever had.
Uncle Bert was right. It was the shortest two weeks of my life and I
hated to see them go.
Waking from my reverie, I was hungry and the Broncho needed gas. I
stopped at Loveland and filled us both up.
To be continued. . . .
Please! Give me comments.--====================987654321_0==_
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