Message-ID: <12117eli$9806121635@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/12117.txt>
From: mswillow@juno.com (Jeannette C Wilson)
Subject: Us Three, part 4
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <19980612.131423.7615.3.MsWillow@juno.com>

Tgff, rom, spank, interracial, intergenerational, mild BDSM, Witchcraft

This story contains sex, full frontal nudity, bondage, SM, transsexuals,
lesbians and a few other things that might not be legal in your locale.
If you do not choose to read about this, or if it is illegal for you to
do so, do not read it.  Skip it in its entirety.  Avoid it at all costs.

However, if you wish to continue, you may find this isn't your typical
wank story.  Each part has something of a plot, or at least a reason
for happening, and the whole story is filled with very much love and
romance, and a moderate amount of sex.  Sorry, guys looking for typical
TG stories won't find this one real interesting.  Tough.  It is, however,
realistic.  It's about me ("Jeannette" aka "Jean"), my fiancee Michelle
(aka Chelle), and another friend of mine, Rachel.  None of this story
actually happened, and I've never met Rachel in real life, yet I've tried
to show us all realistically, as we might have done the events described.

I wrote most of this a year ago.  It is my second-ever attempt at writing
anything serious.  Once I finish it, I'll also post the first attempt,
which I call "Rewards."  I call this one, "Us Three."

Enjoy.

Blessed Be
Jeannette
mswillow@nomorespam.juno.com


Oh, just because I'm sharing this with y'all doesn't mean that it's not
copyrighted.  It is.  However, I WILL let y'all make copies of it, ifn
you give me the credit (or assign me the blame) for having written it.
If you're making money off of it, that's great too.  Hope you make a
big-assed pile of it, so you can roll around in it and retire forever,
and hire Bill Gates to lick your shoes clean for you.  Just please keep
me as the author of this, ok?  Thanks.  Jeannette


Us Three  copyright (c) 1997, 1998 Jeannette Cathy Wilson


Part Four

"Bye, Mom!  And thanks for everything!"

Rachel waved goodbye to her mother, and jounced to the Jeep
with her backpack.

"Who'd have believed it?  She *accepts* me!", she exclaimed.

Well, I for one would have believed it, but I kept quiet.
I'd been working behind the scenes for the past ten weeks to
get her family used to the idea, arrange for some financial
help in getting her in college, and just plain keep them
informed of what's going on in their daughter's life.  So I
was never really a Mother (it comes with the territory of
being M2F TS), but I *can* relate to how they feel.

"Yeah, isn't it nice to have your family back?", said
Michelle from the back.

I tried to put on a smiling face for them both.  I have no
family any more, they all ran like scared rednecked rabbits
when their son / brother, John, suddenly became Jeannette, a
lesbian.

Michelle leaned forward and gave me a kiss.

"Oh, Jean, I'm sorry!  I didn't mean it that way."

She has a way of *knowing* how I feel, without me even
saying anything.

"Hey, I *do* have a family, one that loves me very much.
They're just not related to me."

"Am I part of your family, Jean?" asked Rachel.

"Sweet one, you hadn't noticed that yet?  Yes, you are.
You, and Michelle, and Susan in New York and Joan in New
Jersey, are my family now."

I smiled wistfully.  So they're not my kids, exactly, and
they're not legally married to me.  Heck, we'll have a
*long* wait for that - first gay marriages need to be
accepted as legal, then poly families need to be accepted
too, then cross-generational relationships, and cross-racial
ones need to be more accepted.  I've done what I can, legally,
to give us nearly the same benefits, and in the eyes of the
Goddess we are married.  That's enough for us.

"Anybody need to go potty, or need some munchies?  There's a
McD's at the next exit..."

We stopped, grabbed some chow (they had McRibs again, my
favorite!), made our nature calls, tanked up the Cherokee,
and continued driving.  I put Melissa Etheridge's "Brave and
Crazy" CD on for tunes, as Michelle and Rachel conspired in
the back.

"Are we there yet?" Michelle whined, then giggled, as we
pulled into Woodruff, Wisconsin.

"Almost, my loves."  I checked the USGS map, as the
campground I wanted was very out-of-the-way.

We turned west off the highway, then zigzagged around for a
while on dirt roads, till we arrived at our campsite.  Ours
was the only car there, despite this being Labor Day
weekend.  I pulled up to a site near the lake.  The quiet
when I shut down the Jeep was awesome.  In the distance, a
loon called out.

"There's nobody here!", chirped Michelle excitedly.

Just as I remembered it from fifteen years before.  That day
it was raining when I arrived, very tired and sweaty from
the July heat.  Then, I had taken a washcloth, soap and
shampoo, and had a very pleasant shower in the drizzle.
This time, I had other plans.  Apparently, so did my two
grrls.

First order of business was the mosquito repellant!  Within
minutes of our arrival, we heard them buzzing around, and
the *slap!* started.  We unloaded the Cherokee, and had the
tent up in no time, with our clothes and air mattresses and
sleeping bags stowed safely inside.

"We'll need wood for the fire tonight if you want to have
s'mores.  Would you two beauties care to venture forth with
me, in search of some?"

And we set out, collecting.  I actually did have some dry
wood with me in the Jeep, but not enough for a three day
weekend, and up here you can never count on the weather
staying good for long.  We had a fair pile of wood, when we
stumbled on to the beach.

It was small, maybe thirty feet wide, very sandy, and very
inviting.  We all put the wood down, to rest a while on the
sand.

*SLAP!*

"Oh, these damned mosquitos!"  *SLAPSLAP!*

"You know, they won't bother us if we're in the water..." I
said.

"But I didn't wear my bathing suit," cried Michelle.

As I began to strip, I said "Use your birthday suit then.
Last one in is a rotten egg!"  We all peeled down and piled
into the lake.  The cold of the water had an immediate
effect on our nipples...  or was it the sight of two other
pretty women, nude?

"Hey, Rachel, what's this?" I said, sticking out my tongue.

"I dunno, what?"

Before I could say it, Michelle chimed in.  "A lesbian with
a hardon!"

Rachel giggled, and stuck her tongue out at me.

"Don't do that unless you mean to use it!" I warned her,
jokingly.

She dogpaddled over to me and kissed me.  I kissed her right
back, raising the ante by rubbing my nipples against hers.
She called, and raised again, by sucking my nipple ring into
her mouth.

Pretty soon Michelle joined in, too.  I was outnumbered, two
against one.  I did my best to keep them both occupied, but
somehow during the fray, Michelle had done the unthinkable.
She had removed my panties.

"It's only fair, Jean!  We're both nude, you should be,
too!"

Now, Michelle has seen me nude many times, and so has
Rachel, when we shower together.  It's not like either of
them would freak over seeing the wrong plumbing...  it's
just, well, it's not something I enjoy.  I prefer to be
loved as *me*, the person I am, and not as some freak, a
girl with a dick.  I can't help it, I was born male, but was
really a girl inside.  I'm as much a girl as I'll ever be
now, just I still have the wrong plumbing (and with putting
two kids through college, I'll probably never get that
fixed).

Rachel hugged me, smiling, but broke off when she saw that I
was crying.

"Jean, what's wrong?"

"Nothing you can fix, dear one.  Nothing anybody can ever
fix."  I tried to stop crying, but it was hopeless.  I felt
myself falling into the abyss again, and hated myself for
it, and that hatred made it worse, over and over in a
neverending spiral down.

"I'd best get on shore before I drown.  You two go and have
fun, just let me be for a while."  I knew if I had enough
time, I could pretend again that nothing was wrong.

"No, Jean, you're always there for us when we need you, now
it's time for you to let us be there, too.", said Michelle,
quietly yet firmly.  As I sat on the beach, she sat beside
me, holding me tight.  Rachel joined in on the other side.

"It's not fair," I sobbed.  "You two deserve somebody better
than an old wreck of a transsexual like me."

Michelle adopted her "I mean business" tone of voice.

"Jean when will you understand that we *love* *YOU*.  Just
as you are.  We love you for the sweet, kind, warm person
that you are, *just* as you are.  I love you because you're
kind, and generous, and sweet, and you took time to actually
*listen* to a young girl who was trying to come to grips
with being gay.  When nobody else in the world gave a shit
about me, you did.  You took me in, you got me back in
school, you showed me how to be proud of myself.  When
Rachel came out, and was rejected by her family and friends,
*you* gave her a good home.  You sweet-talked her parents
into helping get her back in school.  You got her mother
to finally accept that her daughter is still her daughter,
despite who she chooses to sleep with.  You did that.  You,
the 'old wreck of a transsexual'.  Nobody else on the planet
cared if I lived or died, not my brothers or sisters or even
my Mom.  You cared, and for that, I love *you*, just the way
you are."

Rachel agreed.  "Yes, Jean, when will you learn to love
yourself?  Geez, so you have the wrong plumbing.  You
already *know* that #you# are not defined by your plumbing!"

"It's hard to accept it when I have to live with it, day in
and day out, and *know* that no lesbian will ever want to
make love with me because of it."

"No lesbian, ever?  Is that why you're always doing us, and
never even take your panties off?", demanded Rachel.  I
nodded silently.

"Well, that's gotta stop, and pronto!", she said sternly.
"Now you just lay down, relax, and try to get it through
your head that *we* *love* *you*, ok?"  She pushed me down
on the sand, and began kissing me.  Michelle joined her.
When I tried to be more active, and kiss Rachel's neck, she
scolded me.

"Now, no topping from the bottom, Jean!  This is our time to
show *you* that we care about #all# of you, the physical you
as well as the mental and emotional and spiritual you."

What could I do?  My Mistress had spoken.  I lay back as
Michelle and Rachel toyed with me, using my body to give
*me* pleasure.  While Rachel nibbled at my neck and ears,
Michelle was busy kissing and munching on my breasts, every
now and then reaching a hand down to scoop out some of her
own wetness and rub it on me.  "See?  You're getting wet,
too!  You just needed a little help."

Between the kisses, the nibbles and the touching, I was
beginning to feel OK.  OK, hell!  I was beginning to enjoy
it, to finally bask in the sunshine, warmth and love of two
incredible young women.

"Remember Joan", Michelle said to Rachel.

"Joan?"

"Yes, didn't she tell you?"

"Oh, about the time on the phone?"

"Yes, that time.  Shall we?  You first."

I had a clue what was in store for me (I was going to say,
"what was coming", but that pun is too bad even for me!)

"Dear Jean, are you enjoying this?"

"ooh, yes I am, Rachel..."

*SLAP!* on my thigh, went Michelle.

"That's Mistress Rachel to you.  Now, are you going to be a
good girl and do what I tell you?"

"Yes, Mistress Rachel."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I will be a good girl and do as I am told, Mistress
Rachel."

"For now, Jean, your job is to relax, enjoy this, and
experience it.  Get into what it feels like, really
*experience* it.  Feel the sun on your body, feel the sand
under it, feel the way our hands and lips caress you, run
down your hot flesh, tease you to new heights of pleasure."

So I did as I was told, like a good little girl, while they
kissed me, caressed me, sucked on my fingers and toes, blew
in my ears, tugged on my nipple rings, occasionally touching
me "down there" but never lingering there, just enough to
include it as part of the whole package deal.  After a
while, I was squirming and moaning under them...

"Jean, do you like this?"

"Yes, Mistress Rachel, I do!"

"Very well, then.  I think it is time for you to come.  We
know that you *can* do it, entirely in your mind.  Show us
how."

As Michelle dragged her fingernails over some *very*
sensitive skin (that born-females do not have), I started
faking an orgasm.  As it did the first time I tried this,
within moments it was real.  Incredible pleasure, wave after
wave of it, and no icky fluids from the wrong parts.

I thought it was over, but they had other ideas.

"Very good, Jean!  Now it's time for you to do some work to
earn your next one."

Next one?  Urp!

Rachel then climbed up to sit on my face.  Goddess, how I
loved it!  Her wetness, so warm and tasty, all over my chin,
so delicious, so delicate...

But what's that?  Huh?  I felt somebody else straddling me.
Michelle?  As she grabbed me and eased me into her, I
recognized her touch.  Yes, Michelle, once again using what
she calls my "organic strap-on", as we did the night she
gave me her virginity.

With Michelle *and* Rachel on me, I was quite occupied.
Michelle leaned forward a bit, to kiss Rachel's back, and
tweak her nipples.  Rachel came, washing my face in juices,
but I did not stop.  She came again, shortly after that.
Michelle was having fun, too.  She shifted her hands till
they were on my breasts, and as she moved up and down, she
scraped her nails over my nipples.

"Come for me, Jean!" Michelle demanded.

I did, for the second time, totally mental, and even better
than the first one.  I must have blacked out for a bit,
cause next thing I knew, we were all lying in a tangled heap
on the beach.

We couldn't have been out long, though.  When I stood up to
get dressed, two people in a canoe on the lake applauded us.
I took a bow, and handed the grrls their clothing.

And to this day I *like* the taste of Citronella.  Most of
my friends think I'm nuts, but Rachel and Michelle just
smile and agree with me...

_____________________________________________________________________
You don't need to buy Internet access to use free Internet e-mail.
Get completely free e-mail from Juno at http://www.juno.com
Or call Juno at (800) 654-JUNO [654-5866]


-- 
+----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+
| <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> |
| Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>