John and I could not believe what we just heard. The boss, and the boss' wife, asking us to have their baby. Actually, for me to have their baby. Me and the boss-man, Mr. Stevens -- Greg -- to make a baby in the natural way, by having raw, cock in slippery-pussy sex to conceive a child, which I would deliver and hand over ... and to do this as a favor.

Christ -- talk about a favor! Watering their lawn while they went on vacation -- that was a favor.

As if that weren't enough, it wasn't that Jan Stevens was unable. She was able; she just wasn't willing. I had already delivered four. I guess they figured one more couldn't possibly hurt. The nerve!

They made me feel like some sort of breeding stock -- good stock, sexy stock, fine fucking hot-piece-of-ass stock, they repeatedly pointed out, but still. Perfect cunt, amazing ass, built like a little girl with big tits and hips that just won't quit; smart, cute, with doe eyes and big cock-sucking lips, sexy and ready to get fucked: exactly what they were looking for in the donor of half of their child's genetic makeup.

Fuck! What nerve! So, why was my pussy so wet?

Greg Stevens is a handsome man, and we would have to fuck a number of times: for keeps, no rubber, no pulling out, fucking to make a baby - serious, cum-in-the-pussy-at-the-wrong-time, hold-me-down-daddy fucking. That might explain the wet pussy, but that was not a complete explanation. Something else about this bizarre situation had my sexy cunt-lips dripping and all a-flutter, and my clit all a-twitter. For one, my husband seemed agreeable -- most certainly not put off, and unless I missed my guess, hard as a steel rod.

Did breeding his bitch make his dick hard, or did he think me getting it on with Greg would open the door to him getting some tight pussy off Jan? She did look tight, although Greg did look big. The little lady certainly didn't relish the thought of delivering such a large man's baby - possibly one of those eleven pound Baby Huey's. I can't say I did, either, but making one with a big man had ... a certain appeal.

My John is a good man. We have a good marriage, which could be great if the sex were good. He is a little less than I would like, especially after delivering four kids the natural way -- pulled right through the pussy; ouch! I stay fit and trim, and I do my twat exercises as much for him as for me, but I have pussy he just doesn't touch and internal wrinkles that never get unwrinkled. If that weren't enough, John is hung like a puppy poodle and fucks like a dog when I prefer being made love to like a missionary's wife by something hung like a Saint Bernard. I would do better to buy a young St. B, place soft mittens on his paws, anoint my slippery cunt with a splash of Old Spice, and train him to fuck people style - slow and easy until I shout, "NOW, BERNIE, NOW!"

After sixteen years of marriage, it's true -- you can't teach an old dog new tricks.

I'm one of those women who has to masturbate while making love to my husband, and I'm married to a man who thinks our love-making is amusing. He likes to hurry up and get his nut so that he can watch me frig off. Calling what we do love-making makes a mockery of love; more accurately, he fucks me and then I fuck me. Sometimes, I have to curl up with a well-hung cucumber just to keep my cunt-wrinkles from becoming permanent. I'm married to a jerk who will gladly go get me one and always picks the biggest one, which only makes our problem worse. The asshole now has me shopping for the biggest cukes, and modeling them in the store.

Big boss-man Greg looked like he packed my kind of cuke, and I never had one with balls before. That had to feel good slapping against a gal's slippery ass with her heels pinned back by her ears, so I was nowhere near as upset or put off as I should have been. Quite the contrary, actually; I was flushed and smiling, quite friendly and flattered. My warm response to their outrageous proposal and vulgar flattery gave Jan hope, made big-bass Greg bold, and got my hubby all hard.

We had just finished dinner at their house, and now I knew why we were having dinner at their house. I had a wet pussy, hard nipples, and a pretty good idea why, but one other factor might explain these effects and account for more than half.

Jan and I go way back to grade school -- we were neighbors and close friends, but we had a falling out in early high school, when her boyfriends kept making plays for me after growing weary of her. This was typical boy behavior, but she blamed me. No boy should wander from her adorable cuteness, she figured; I had to be shaking my big tits at them. Problem was, my double Ds shook at everybody. I had tits in the fifth grade and a set of fuck-me hooters by my freshman year of high school. From then on, Jan and I were at odds and competed for everything: boys, friends, popularity, titles, honors, distinctions.

I won everything that required a body or a kind word; Jan won all cute competitions and anything requiring back-stabbing, though I was the virgin and she was the slut. I was the hot, grown woman all the guys wanted to fuck; she was the pretty little girl everyone did fuck. We both had our following. I'd call the competition a draw by the time we graduated and went our separate ways; she took a gang-bang of twenty-five guys, and I sucked off at least twice that many to keep myself a virgin. We parted as friends, each wishing each other well. I meant it, and I'm sure she did, too. We were simply too close at one time and shared too much pleasant history to go away mad. I understood her, she understood me; our differences were simply too great after puberty set in and the guys came a-courtin'.

Fifteen years went by without seeing her, and then we bumped into each other at a party thrown by Greg -- celebrating his recent divorce from a real bitch. We hit it off great and impressed each other. She still had that cute thing going for her, but she now carried her cuteness on a chassis of class, charm and poise. She looked absolutely stunning, and had obviously gotten a boob job, but was smart enough not to overdo it. On her 5' 1'', 110 lb frame, double D's' would have looked absurd. D's' were perfect.

She was sure I would end up fat, and was surprised to see me at my high school weight of 120.

We met at a huge bash with dozens of crashers. Jan, in fact, was one of the crashers. She and a few old girl friends were out looking for a party. They found Greg's. All around, strangers were bumping in the night to dance music. John had been in Greg's employ for ten years at this time. We didn't know Greg very well, but I knew him well enough to introduce Jan to him as Greg and not as Mr. Stevens. I knew he wanted to get laid. Jan always wanted to get laid. Introducing them seemed the right thing to do. He offered her his hand. She took him by the cock and said, "It's a big pleasure to meet you, mister - a very big pleasure. Do you like to fuck little girls with big tits?"

To make a predictable story short, they hit it off and ended up getting married. I don't know how much of a factor Greg being my husband's boss had to do with this marriage, but I know that it was a factor -- or at least a big bonus. Almost immediately, she let me know my place. It would not be proper for me to call her 'Jan' where others might overhear. No, she is now Mrs. Stevens, the boss' wife. Typical Jan. She hadn't changed one bit, and the competition wasn't over. And, boy, did she hit pay dirt. Jan was now a rich bitch - a very rich bitch - rich as in a good-sized numeral followed by six or possibly seven zeros. No one knew for sure, but Greg Stevens was fucking loaded. Me? Well, you'd think I was poor white trash with a trailer full of rug rats. Actually, we weren't doing too badly. We had a nice home in the burbs and the kids were in their early teens or close.

Right from the start, I had to do all the sucking up -- so that John could get deserved promotions, important holidays off, special considerations, or whatever else one might think we would gain by being tight with the boss and his wife. I was always being called on to do Jan a favor. Like the lawn-watering thing. They have a grounds keeper, but she wants me to come over everyday to see that the lawn gets proper watering while she tours Europe. That sort of thing.

We were never invited to socialize, but Jan would pop in on me -- always decked-out in finery, weighted down with gems, and the bitch always caught me when the house was a wreck. With four kids and their friends, the house is always in a state of wrecked-ness, but she knew when the worst times were. If I didn't lay a towel or sheet down for her, she'd choose to stand, being polite, of course - "Please don't go to any bother. I can stand." - and she'd end up sitting.

Watching me wait on her that way, the kids thought she was royalty.

That sort of thing should have made my blood boil, but I understood Jan. If you know Jan, and know her background -- and you still like her, as I still did -- you overlook her shortcomings and idiosyncrasies. She didn't do this sort of thing out of malice, she did it for kicks; little girl that she is, she can only feel tall if those around her kneel. I also knew that if I swallowed my pride and let her get her kicks, we would reap rewards. I just had to earn them. I could also tell her where to stick it and reap her wrath. I did that once and John ended up on graveyard shift for three months. We both hated that, so I swallowed my pride and went to Jan to ask a favor. For that, you must kneel.

Jan had many ways of getting cheap thrills at my expense, but her favorite was having me give her a pedicure -- this placed me on my knees, with her feet in my hands. For these foot services, she liked to arrive straight from a bath, wearing only a short towel - if that - and she did this to place her naked cunt in view, and you could bet your sweet ass, if my eyes lingered for even a split second in the split, she'd make a comment that would turn my face red. I'm not gay or particularly bisexual, but you just can't help but look at a shaved cunt when the owner sits like a cowboy and constantly strokes a finger through the slit as though saying, "Doesn't this sexy little pussy look nice and yummy?"

I must admit, she did make that pussy look tempting, and it was obvious the type of kissing-up she hoped to inspire, especially when she'd part the lips as though needing to let the air cool the steamy pink interior. That action begged a soothing tongue. Try giving a sexy masturbating woman a pedicure and see if you can avoid looking or licking. I knew that would give her the ultimate thrill, me sucking her cunt to get John a three-day weekend. I drew the line at humiliating pedicures. Okay, I also shaved her cunt for her, and a few licks, but no way would I kiss it after patting it dry. That was where I drew the absolute line.

I have long suspected Jan of being very bisexual. A girl knows -- and Jan, even before we entered puberty, was way too interested in my naked body, and slipping fingers into me. She loved playing dress-up, husband and wife, doctor, Truth or Dare, strip poker, anything that forced intimacy and exposed naughty flesh. Her big thing was being naked and touching my pussy. She loved being naked. In the eight years that we were best friends, she must have said, "Let's get naked," a thousand times, and we did about nine-hundred: in her home, in my home, in the woods, on a school bus, at school, skinny dipping, streaking.

I got a bad reputation because of her, and a lot more exposure than I ever wanted.

Long before we could go out on dates, she insisted we practice French kissing and making out. We often did sleep-overs and slept in the same bed at her house or mine -- nude, of course. After puberty, she woke me up countless times with her face in my crotch, her lips pressed tightly against my sex lips with her tongue way up my pussy, sometimes her tongue up my asshole with her nose in my cunt along with three fingers and a hairbrush.

She did stuff to me that a girl can't sleep through - or ever forget. She was always after me to do nasty things, weird things, daring things, and those I went along with usually got me naked and in trouble. I was quite the prude, straight as an arrow, wanted to be good, and had to be dragged kicking and screaming into decadence.

By the time we entered high school, my own parents thought I was a slut and a lesbian. Jan loved hanging out at my house because my parents treated us as though we were lesbian lovers. They didn't care what we did, or if we wore clothes, so long as we behaved in front of company. Needless to say, Jan did all in her power to reinforce their notions, pushing me to cooperate in "fooling" them. She fooled them, sure - but she didn't fool me. Still, she was so good at fooling them that I got to where I simply gave up and let them think what they wanted to think. We did most of our practice make-outs in front of my parents in the nude. We sure fooled them, but to be honest, I did come to enjoy that game, mostly because I knew my parents loved seeing two young chicks make out with no clothes on. As a result, I never experienced any guilt or shame. I received the pleasure without the pain.

Jan had now come up with a doozie - me bear her a child - as a favor. Visions of me and Greg going off to a private bedroom to make love, real love-making, slowly evaporated as I came to see this for what it really was. No, Jan wanted to breed me to her huggy bear. I could see it in her eyes. She wanted to place a collar and leash on me and have me assume the most degrading position in bright light, probably on a cold floor. I pictured myself, stark naked, on my all fours, taking a hard buffeting from the rear while she held my leash and stroked my head, telling me, "Good girl ... that's a good girl, Jenny, lean into it. Huggy Bear will pump lots of sperm up your hot cunt."

That was why my pussy was so fucking wet, and I could not understand that for the life of me. I should have been so pissed at her. I mean, how dare she?!

And how dare my husband sit there, all smiles and nods, like this is all fine with him? Talk about a kiss-ass and brown-noser. "Sure, breed my wife like a bitch. Sounds like a great idea. She loves to be fucked like that."

Prick! Little prick. Wonderful prick. Stupid prick, if he thought his little prick would be sampling any of Jan's rich bitch pussy. If I knew Jan, part of her plan would put his little prick in rubbers for the duration, if his wife's pussy weren't in some sort of cruel chastity device.

Now, the seating arrangement made sense. Big boss-man Greg and I sat on one side of the table; Jan and John on the other. After the dinner, Greg sat close on my left and kept a hand on my leg with one arm around my shoulder - pretty intimate - like a date in a movie theater. Like a date, he was warming me to his intimate touch, stroking my leg, sliding the hand under the skirt, advancing steadily toward his vaginal objective while selling me on the idea of bearing his bastard. I wondered what he'd do when he got to the objective ... finger-fuck me? The hand action was obvious. What would John do when the finger action became obvious?

And it would be obvious. because I can't take a finger without it being obvious. I had the distinct impression that I would not be asked to make a decision until I was out of my fucking mind horny. To agree, I'd have to be.

Oddly, I couldn't wait to be out of my fucking mind. My cunt ached for a finger, but drooled for a large cock. I allowed my legs to remain open long after a lady would have closed them, clearly an invitation to come on up and finger the sexy litte white trash slut. I felt that way because they treated me that way -- with Jan acting the perfect lady and being treated that way. They used street vulgarity when addressing me while discussing my body parts in the crudest terms. Jan had perfect breasts; I had hot tits. She had a vagina; I had a cunt, and god was my cunt wet.

Greg was teasing me, taking his sweet time, and all the while I saw this smug look on Jan's face that clearly said, "I've got you now, bitch. You're all mine, now, and you'll do whatever I want you to do whenever I want you to do it."

And my husband seemed to be saying, "Yep. She'll do anything you want her to do, any time you want her to do it."

And I must have been sending the signal that they were both correct; my cunt was slobbering.

Just as I was about to grab Greg's hand and pull it into my crotch, he cupped my slut cunt. What a relief! My legs went out in gratitude and he gave my overheating pussy a rewarding squeeze. My panties were sopping wet, and he was making them wetter with more delicious squeezes. This was feeling so good, and then he insinuated three fingers inside my panties and went in search of my well-used birth canal. Everything but his pinky slipped in easily as his thumb rubbed my aching clit. Now, I was very happy. This is what I needed.

I began to thrash on his fingers.

The arm draped over my shoulder, with a hand resting over my right breast, now started undoing the buttons of my blouse. He undid three, then slipped his hand inside the bra to fondle the breast and roll a turgid nipple. Of course, Jon & Jan could see this action, but they are also aware of the other. Like I say, I can't hide a good fingering, and he was good.

Greg wasn't trying to make me cum. He wanted me held at the brink -- but I like being held at the brink. If you keep me at the brink, you can expose my tits at the dinner table and I won't mind, even if you pinch them and slap them around. That's what he did, fully exposed my firm, proud titties and played with them like an immature jock showing off to his buddies. He liked big jugs that aren't pumped up with silicone. Like a proud whore, I thrust out my chest so they'd wobble better and leaned my pussy into his finger-fuck.

While I writhed on Greg's talented hand and showed off my hooters, Jan said, "I want you to nurse my child, so you'll have to move in with us for the first two years and throughout your pregnancy. Plan on the better part of three years -- this favor will start with conception, and that might take a month or two. We'll hire someone to look after your family, of course -- but you'll see them often. They can come see you, but the baby must be with you at all times. The baby can't be away from those tits for long. I want those udders kept clean and bare, always available. I'd like a well-fed baby and a shameless wet nurse."

God, what a devious bitch, but I loved every word in my out-of-my-fucking mind state of being. What I heard was three years as a bare-breasted sex slave commencing right then and there. Greg must have taken it that way as well. He went right to work and bared my udders by removing the blouse and the bra. John must have heard it that way, too. He said, "What about me?"

Jan smiled, patted his leg, and said, "Don't worry. You'll get to pick out the help. If she doesn't work out, you can pick another. We'll keep you smiling, but you'll have to leave Jenny be. We want her full, complete, and undivided attention -- primarily focused on serving our needs. Is that agreeable?"

The sorry bastard sold me into sexual slavery for the vague promise of a string of young Swedish maids in skimpy uniforms. Did I mind? Fuck no. I was going into sexual slavery for three glorious years. At least, at that particular point they seemed glorious.

So there I sat, at Jan's table with my bare udders, getting finger fucked by her huggy bear hubby, wondering if it would be cool to reach over and feel his cock. I decided to wait. Jan walked my husband to the door and gave him the bum's rush. He wasn't expecting that, but he knew when he was being dismissed. Kiss-ass that he is, he didn't argue. He just left. I didn't even get a kiss good-bye.

The next thing I knew, I had a grinning Jan standing beside me looking into my lap, saying, "Enough of that, Greg. Take her into the bedroom and strip her down. I'll be along in a minute ... oh, and remove her wedding ring with the rest of her things. I'll have James deliver them to John. She won't need any clothing for the next three years."

So, that's how it's going to be, thought I.

Shit, when she asks a favor, she really asks a favor. And she thinks my kids will come visit me that way? Of course she does. She's Jan. She knows how best to degrade and humiliate a mother. Keep her naked, breeding another man's bastard, serving a rich bitch's every sexual whim. Oh, yes, they'll visit often and get an eyeful. I wondered how long it would take her to shave my cunt bald. That was always her thing: bald pussy, so much more vulgar that way. The silly bitch even tried to shave me in my sleep. In fact, that devious act began our falling out and ended sleep-overs.

As I was getting up to follow Greg, being led by Greg, it dawned on me: I was never asked and never said I'd do this thing.

They simply presumed. John went along, gave me away, then went away. That made me feel like John's property. Ordinarily, that would make me go off like a plugged-up pressure cooker. Oddly, that feeling only made me want to get fucked in some deeply degrading and humiliating manner for the amusement of my master - Jan. God, did I ever want to suck her sexy cunt.

Once inside their lavish master bedroom, I stood passively while Greg freed me of all clothing, assisting when necessary. He forgot the wedding ring until I shyly offered my left hand. After removing that, he stood back to take in my full frontal nudity. He looked pleased and said, "Damn, are you sure you've had four kids? You look fantastic, girl."

I should explain that Greg and I had an innocent flirtation thing going long before Jan entered the picture. We just never did anything about it. After he married Jan, we wouldn't dare, and now we were being thrust together by the very person we were cooling our passions because of. I beamed from the sincere compliment and said, "I exercise and eat right, sir."

"I expected stretch marks."

"I'm lucky, sir. My skin is quite elastic, sir."

"Soft and supple, too. Turn around. Lets get a look at that ass. I have always admired your ass, Jenny."

Blushing, I faced away, saying, "Yes, as I recall, you have mentioned that many times in the past. Is my ass better in or out of jeans, sir?"

Stepping close and taking both cheeks in his massive hands, he said, "Definitely out. God damn this is fine ass. Have you ever taken a big cock up your ass?"

I had a big cock pressed to my ass as I said, "No, sir -- and I thought we were here to make a baby."

"We can make a baby that way. I'll fuck your ass and cum in your pussy."

"Oh ... well, I suppose that could work. Will you fuck my ass now, sir?"

He was nuzzling my neck and I was melting when Jan stepped into the room carrying shaving items. She called out, "Hey -- slow down, cowboy. I'm running this show, and I don't want to see any of that lovie-dovie shit with her. Treat her like a whore or I'll pay her something and make her one."

That was Jan, typical Jan. I took no offense and he didn't challenge her -- which told me in no uncertain term that this was her show, not that I needed that clarified. He stepped away and I turned to face her. Jan laid a folded towel over the foot end of the huge bed and directed me to set my fine, whore ass down on it. Like a whore hired to do a job on credit, I sat and leaned back on my elbows.

She appeared surprised that I wasn't giving her a ration of shit about the impending shave. Knowing how I once felt about shaved cunts: making a woman look like a whore, making the vagina look vulgar by revealing the disgusting innards, destroying nature's natural adornment and sexual cushion, some whining was expected.

Add to that the fact that my kids would be seeing me this way ... well, that should have produced major resistance and big-time whining. I said nothing, even as she lifted and then spread my bent legs, calling for Greg's assistance in holding the very vulgar spread while she knelt as though to eat me. Greg sat at my side, pressing hard on my inner thighs.

I'm talking S P R E A D.

I'm sure she wanted to lap that spread. Greg wanted to. Hell, it looked so good, I wanted to. That was one wide-mouthed beaver -- and super juicy, at that. She slipped three slim fingers of her left hand into me, effortlessly, then opened the lips of my cunt with her right hand as she withdrew to fully expose my ample innards. She flicked a thumb across my still clit as I groaned; her fingers were getting very wet, indeed. Smiling, Jan looked to Greg and said, "Didn't I tell you this girl had a cunt?"

I took that as a compliment, because I knew Jan liked cunts and could see that Greg loved them more than compact, neat, little vaginas. I took pride in my cunt because my cunt lay wide open before two big fans of the cunt. The whore did, indeed, have a fine cunt. Jan remembered how terribly shy I was about showing those most intimate parts between the lips, but she forgot how much water had passed under the bridge. After you bear four kids, you get used to making beavers for strangers.

Hell, we videotaped the last two and show the tapes to children and strangers. One was a big hit at show and tell -- and, according to my son Jeff, was worth being grounded for a month. The boys bring their buddies in to jack-off to the birth of their baby sister. I don't care. We don't hide the tapes. They're educational, and childbirth is nothing to be ashamed of. They don't jack-off in front of me; well, not much. Little Arlene gets upset because all the boys get to see her baby pussy. Hell, it's not her little crack they're jacking off to, but making a fuss gives her the excuse to see their dicks, sit on a few, and then tattle.

After Jan's failed attempt at humiliating me, she went to work lathering my whole crotch, then began stroking away the hair over the mons. She took away five strips from my mound before saying, "What, no complaints?"

"Would it do any good?"

"No, not as long as you are doing us this favor. If we're going to do this, we'll do it right."

I blushed. That begged the question, 'what does a shaved pussy have to do with conceiving a child,' but who cared? We were doing it right.

I said, "That's what I figured."

Jan was loving this, having the time of her life, but the best part was doing the lips. She was like a kid again, doing something nasty, only I was cooperating this time. Halfway down the right labia, she says, "Have you ever shaved this cunt?"

"Yes, ma'am. You get your cunt shaved every time you have a baby."

"Other than that."

"I shaved the lips once as an anniversary surprise, ma'am, but the stubble bothered me and I didn't want to keep up the shaving. Shaving my legs is enough of a pain."

"Well, we'll be keeping you free of all stubble, so get used to this -- and get used to your kids seeing you this way. [They already were. I was a porn star] By 'this way,' I mean in this position. [in a position almost as good] I'll let them take over this nasty chore. [that would be new] I'm sure they'll fight over the honor of shaving Mommy's pussy. [no shit!]"

She was trying to get a rise out of me, but I was way too turned on for that. Jan still thought I was the girl she knew so long ago and it was best that she continue thinking that. What she didn't know was that I married a male version of her - a nasty little fucker, sure, but cute and fun. What she started, he finished. If she knew how much I had changed, odds were she would lose all interest just as my interest was growing. This crazy idea of hers kept looking better and better. I said, "I know the boys will fight over their turn. Cindy might. She shows way too much interest in naked ladies. She loves shaving my legs in the shower. I'm sure she'd love shaving the pussy, too."

That piqued her interest. She said, "So, we have a little lesbian, do we?"

Cindy is my oldest at fifteen and the one Jan would kill to get her lips on. I said, "I doubt she's lesbian. Bisexual, yes. I would be surprised if she wasn't. Now, my little one, Arlene - she's a dyke. If she were on her knees shaving my legs in my shower, she'd be nursing on my clit. With Cindy, I at least get a decent shave while she's checking out my cunt."

"Aren't we the lucky mommy? Maybe they'll give your pussy a nice French kiss after patting it dry. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"Yes, ma'am -- it would be very nice if they were to do that without prompting."

I was full of surprises and full of shit, but Jan believed me. In her world, all mothers want their daughters and vice versa. In her home, I know that was true, and in mine, I suspect it was true of my mother. She had an unnatural interest in my nude body -- and an enema, given in the nude along with a lengthy massage, was a miracle cure-all. She never used her mouth on me, but that was about all she didn't do. I never climaxed with Jan, but rarely avoided one with Mom. She wouldn't stop until I relaxed and gave in. She got her jollies watching me cum, and that's why I can't passively take a fingering. When Mom said "relax" she meant, "act slutty for me, Sweetheart. Mommy wants you to cum on her fingers in front of these men."

Jan knew nothing about my incestuous developments, as they occurred long after we stopped seeing each other, but I knew what excited her. Jan was now in a hurry to pat me dry and do something nice. I was all for that. I remembered how nice she could be to a pussy and I had so much more pussy to be nice to; plus, females who suck cunts no longer freak me out. I have, on occasion, allowed ladies of that persuasion to indulge themselves. An aerobics class is a great place to meet them, and the ones who go on and on about your sexy legs are invariably dying to lick their way up one and down the other with a long pause in the middle. The sauna on a slow weekday is a great place to let them. John also has a pretty little coworker that he often brings home because he loves to watch her eat me. I love to watch her eat me, too; her pussy is still tight enough that she cums on John's cock when she tongues my cunt.

I think Greg was dying to watch his lovely little lady eat a woman's slippery pussy, and I got the impression that this whole ruse was an excuse to get a woman involved in their sex life -- one that Jan would feel comfortable with, and that Greg already desired. They could have come to me and said, "Hey, let's party," and I'd have jumped at the opportunity, but this was Jan's way.

Jan liked to be on top. This way kept me in my place, while still sharing her man.

Actually, Jan's way wasn't a bad way to go about this nasty business of extramarital sex. In a way, this made me a hero of sorts. My sacrifice would secure our bread winner's job. I was sure John would sell it that way; he had to tell the kids something. He sure as hell wouldn't tell them what he actually did. "Hey kids, I traded your mom in on a Swedish model with great legs, a tight pussy and a loose asshole. Say hello to Heidi."

No, John would come out powerless and faultless while I would be a victim and a hero. At least I had better be, if they wanted me to keep playing this game. At this point, it was a game, and a short-term game at that -- but I could see the possibility of something developing from this nasty game. I knew Jan would get my kids involved in the nastiness. Incest fascinates her, especially sex which involves a mother with her children. Jeff and Danny might end up becoming mother fuckers. Cindy was sure to try some pussy to see if she really liked the stuff, and little Arlene might just strap on a dildo and join her brothers as mother fuckers. With her powerful anal fixation, her dick was sure to go right up my ass, and she would probably have a hand up my cunt when she did it.

I could enjoy sex with my kids, but I could never be the instigator. In this scenario, I wouldn't have to instigate a thing. All I had to do was play the good victim and kiss Jan's ass. She would see that I got plenty of hot incest action. I knew the kids would love anything she inspired. They are a horny lot, eager to try anything. We are a far more sexual family than Jan could possibly imagine. For example, I recently busted up a scene wherein Arlene talked Jeff and Danny into holding Cindy down so that she could eat her big sister's pussy. The little dyke gave them blow jobs to get them to help, but also reminded them that she helped them rape Cindy -- and that they owed her.

Cindy is pure rape-bait and has been for several years, but it takes all three to get anything off of her. The poor kid was getting raped twice a week whether she needed it or not. I think every boy in the neighborhood had her several times over within her first year of puberty. It would be rape if she seriously resisted. She has sex forced on her and only whines about it for appearance's sake. Rather than try to control the whole neighborhood, I put her sexy ass on the pill and told her to stop being a big baby. The next time she came whining, I made her take her panties off, then sent her out to play. That almost made her cum right in my kitchen while shucking her knickers. The phoney slut went out and pulled a train in our garage, then returned stark naked and drenched in semen, going, "See what happened, Mommy?!"

She recently came to me and told me that her daddy was offering her money to have sex with him. I advised her to hold out for more money. That didn't surprise her or upset her. What she really wanted was permission to fuck my husband.

Cindy may be the family fuck, but I seem to be the object of greatest interest. Seeing me naked, or seeing bits of me naked, is always a treat. My big tits are a major attraction. My shaved cunt giving birth is a mega attraction, but so is a side glance at a hairy pussy. A shot of bare ass will bring giggles, and they are all avid beaver hunters. Although they see a great deal of total nudity, getting a peek at my panties is a big deal. I don't always wear panties, and that is a big deal, especially if I'm showing pink. They love seeing pink.

I have a lusty brood, and they're all sexually active, but I stay above all that nasty business. It's not like I go around flashing the kids, and I don't encourage their nasty behavior beyond overlooking or ignoring much of it. They barely dare to jack-off to those tapes while I'm watching. When I happen to stumble onto forced sex, I'll usually break it up -- but I will also avoid stumbling onto it if I suspect something is going on.

Arlene is a ten-year-old dyke and makes no bones about the fact that she loves pussy. She is one of the guys because she loves pussy as much as they do. She'll gladly let the boys and their friends fuck her, but she wants pussy in exchange; she's not above raping girls as young as six to get her jollies. She also attacks my pussy and usually manages a few good laps before being ejected. I act upset, but she never gets punished. Through Arlene, I get in a great deal of exposure as she'll drag my panties down to get in her licks, and she loves showing my ass. Sometimes, my hands are full. What's a mother to do? We play a lame game, but the kids never tire of watching Arlene attack me.

With Cindy, we have a special relationship. We have an understanding that we've never discussed. She wants her sex forced on her. I don't mind indulging her and playing along, acting like I don't give a fuck -- or worse, like I am in sympathy with her rapists. She also craves intimacy. She does get to shave my legs, but rarely while kneeling in the shower. I'm usually nude and I let her shave right up to the lips, which takes care of any wild hairs. I lie back on the bed with my legs in a relaxed part. I let her feast her eyes without my eyes being on her, and I feel her getting close enough to sniff. I hear the distinctive intake through the nose and feel her warm breath in my slit.

She doesn't try to hide what she's doing, and I never draw attention to it. After the shave, I lie there with my legs wide, her hands softly pressing on my inner thighs, sometimes for ten or fifteen minutes following the shave. I expect her to lick. So far, she hasn't. Maybe she just likes the scent of pussy and doesn't want to cross the line, fearing she'll become like Arlene. They don't get along very well: Arlene is a dyke, a brat, a rape assistant, and a tattle-tale; Cindy is a princess, a fairy-queen, and a virginal kind of girl who can barely take Daddy's cock in her ass. In any event, this sniffing thing has become a ritual that becomes more obvious each time. I feel her nose more and more. Eventually, she'll lick -- and I'll ignore that, if she doesn't do it the way Arlene does. I can't ignore lapping.

Cindy and I should talk, but we don't. Talking about it would ruin what we have, and we both think what we have is special. Everybody is happy this way. Sure, my kids see a lot more of me than most kids see of their mother. What they see of me appears to be unintentional, although it is difficult to flash a pink-mouthed beaver while appearing unintentional. I do get cheap thrills out of doing that, and they may suspect. I at least make it look unintentional, except with Cindy. Deep down, I'm just a regular mom with liberal attitudes regarding kids and their sexual explorations. I think they should be allowed to discover what they like and indulge themselves with parental oversight, not necessarily supervision. I know they all like seeing pink, so I manage to treat them to some pink from time to time.

They have never seen pink like Jan had exposed; then again, they had never seen me make a beaver like Greg held me in. They have never seen anything obscene, although Jeff's teacher thought I deliver a baby obscenely. All I did was breathe and push, sweat and strain. This would be a major hit if all they did was look. My gynecologist doesn't get a beaver this good. Cindy never saw one this good. I don't give John beavers this good. Jan never saw me in a beaver this good. I don't do vulgar beavers, not even to deliver, but I do allow people to place me in them under the right circumstances - evidently.

This was all new to me. Breeding me like livestock was a good move on Jan's part. She tapped something in me that I didn't know was there. I don't think she knew, but she knew enough to capitalize on my reaction. She knew when she hit pay dirt and she wasted no time. Ridding me of my fleece was also a smart move. Put a whore's cunt between my legs and I'll stop acting like a lady. Take away my clothes, I'll stop acting civilized. Let my kids shave my cunt, I'll forget I'm a mommy. Take away my wedding ring, I'll forget that I'm married. Clever girl, that Jan.

As I watched Jan stroke away the last stray hairs and soapy remnants, looking into my bald cunt, I could not believe I was actually doing this and that moments ago John and I had been enjoying a pleasant dinner wondering if this meant we were finally going to be treated as social equals by the Stevens. I hardly felt like a social equal, more like a disembodied vagina.

Jan patted me dry, then gazed on my pie like a kid with a pie. She grew a big smile, then looked up to Greg and said, "Now, watch this."

He was all eyes. I was, too. Although I had felt her at her dirty business years ago, I had never watched her do it, everything being done under covers and in darkness while pretending to be asleep. Now, everything was out in the open and in good light, and I should mention with one hell of a beaver which she never got while I feigned sleep. The famished bisexual bitch dove in head-first and made my eyes go cross.

W O W !

I'm serious - her face merged with my slippery cunt and her tongue was everywhere - inside and out. Greg had to hold me down. I thought I knew what being eaten felt like. I didn't have a clue. She learned something at college. FUCK!

I swear, if Jan had done it that way back when we were young teenagers, I would have turned queer for her. I would have sworn off guys for her; I would have worn a leash and a collar to Jr. High. Back then, she was too slow and timid. She could bring me to a boil but not make my pot boil over, which is a torture. There were times I wanted to kill her.

She knew she was impressing the fuck out of me. She watched my reaction over my newly denuded pubic mound with those expressive eyes of hers, saying, "Yeah, you like it now, don't you bitch? So, you don't think I can keep you here for three years dancing to my tune - take this - and THIS - AND T H I S!"

They had to peel me off the ceiling. Okay, I exaggerate a tiny bit, but I never climaxed like that in my life. A swarm of butterflies flew out of my ass - no exaggeration. Blew me away.

I sorta came-to with a slap to my mound, hearing Jan say to Greg, "Okay, she's ready for you. Put her up on her knees and give it to her good."

The big bear took me by the hips, flipped me like a rag-doll, set me on my knees at the edge of the bed, pressed my head and shoulders to the mattress, then moved my knees out wide to place my holes at the height he wanted. Boy, was I ever vulnerable to a rear assault. My still-drooling cunt sucked air, then sucked a dick the likes of which I had never sucked. Huggy Bear was a large cuke with a head on it the size of a small apple. When he shoved that monster in, my pussy melted. That never happened before. Believe me, I was impressed long before his bear balls pressed against my inner thighs. He took out every wrinkle and made a believer out of me. I now believed that size does make a difference.

I believed in size before Greg proved the theory true. Now that I knew, I wanted to slap John for telling me that it's not the sword but the swordsmanship. Hell, he couldn't sword-fight either. I hoped Cindy was smart enough to get at least twenty bucks out of his sorry ass.

Greg, now there was a Musketeer. That man could fuck a woman, and while he fucked this woman, his woman got naked and crawled on the bed. She scooted up under my head with her legs yawning, which got my attention. When I peered at her over her mound, she said, "You'll eat my pussy, now, or that big cock goes up your ass. That won't feel as good; I've seen huggy-bear's dick make seasoned ass-whores cry."

Guess what I did? I ate pussy and tried to do it the way Jan did. The trick is to get your face full in it and your tongue all over it, use lots of lips, and lick deep. Every now and then you give the clit a good tugging suck. You also get as much cunt flesh in your mouth as you can and suck. When your mouth fills with piss, you swallow...

WHAT!?

I swallowed a mouthful of piss! The bitch pissed in my mouth! I swallowed it ... all of it, then kept sucking. Was I nuts?

I must have been, because I kept doing that and every time I did, she'd fill my mouth with piss. Each time that happened, I swallowed. Where the hell did she go to college, anyway?

Here I was, doing her this tremendous favor, letting her huggy bear inseminate my married ass so that she wouldn't have to go through the rigors of pregnancy and childbirth, and how does she thank me? By using me as her toilet ... WHILE I AM EATING HER PUSSY!

I felt so used, utterly degraded, totally humiliated, absolutely worthless. God, what a delicious feeling that was; I came. And then came again, grinding on the boss-man's big cock. After I drained Jan's bladder for her, I wiped her pussy with my tongue.

What a trip that was. She took me totally by surprise, but most surprising was my response to it. I swallowed at least a dozen mouthfuls of piss but then nursed out the last -- and all the while she was telling Greg what she's doing, which drove him wild. He started fucking me like an enraged bull in a hurry. I swallowed my first mouthful of piss when Greg began slamming the pork to me. I had to swallow to cry out, "Yes, sir, fuck me hard!"

Maybe that's why I thought her piss tasted so good. The more eagerly I drank, the better I got fucked. By the time he hosed my insides with semen, I was sloshing in the gut and still sucking on her pissing pussy. My fourth orgasm hit after swallowing my third mouthful, and I wiped her as I came down from that orgasm. I was bloated and wasted by the time he stopped moving.

When big boss-man came, I knew it. Hot seed filled me almost as much as Jan's piss.

Jan laughed, lifted my head by the hair, gazed into my lust-dazed eyes, and said to her huggy bear, "The slut looks happy. How was she?"

He said, "A lot tighter than I thought she'd be."

"Tighter than me?"

"Not quite, but close. Can she eat a pussy?"

"She'll do."

"I guess we'll keep her, then."

"Yeah, she's a keeper. I knew she would be. I should have sat on her fucking face back when we were in sixth grade."

He smiled. "We'd have never met if you had. You and Jenny might have married."

"We might have, at that. Oh well, now I have the best of both worlds -- and I'm not letting her go, Huggy Bear. You promised me I could have her. No going back on a promise."

"I have no intention of going back. Didn't I tell you John was a good man? We'll just throw him a few bones and see that he's kept in pussy. He'll be no problem."

Jan looked into my eyes as she held my face. I saw something deep that went way back. She grew very serious as she said, "You're mine, Jenny. Don't ever try to fight it. I can make you very happy or I can destroy you. You're mine, all mine. Do you understand?"

I understood perfectly. Now I recalled why we really broke up. She was the most possessive and jealous person I ever met. She wanted all the guys and me all to herself. Yes, I understood perfectly, nodded, then gave her a good licking which made her smile warmly. I conveyed that I loved licking her pussy, even her asshole. My actions told her that I was completely at ease with being possessed by her, owned by her, and that she could do with me as she saw fit. Her smile of contentment grew bigger and bigger. I could also see her wheels turning in the direction of my kids.

When I saw that look, I sent my tongue deep into her ass with my nose buried in her pussy. She watched for a while, then said, "You are going to be a whore to those kids of yours - all of them, the boys as well as the girls. You'll do anything and everything, and we get to watch. What do you think of that?"

I raised up to say, "That's nasty, mistress."

"I know, but what will you do about it?"

I gave her a few subservient licks then said, "What can I do?"

"Nothing except what I want you to do, or you'll be out on your own - no husband, no kids, no job, with nothing, not even clothes or a wedding ring to hock."

I gave a few more licks before saying, "Then there is nothing I can do except what you want me to do. I guess I'll be a good whore for them."

This made her smile big, her victory smile. I hadn't seen that smile since she beat me out for Prom Queen. Greg was just now easing his limp schlong out of me, creating an emptiness such as I had never experienced -- and I've had some big veggies up there for an awful long time. I once wore a cuke all day; shopping for groceries has never been the same. My cunt felt like a vault with the door left wide open. Jan wriggled out and stood to look into my vault, exclaiming, "Christ, what a fucking mess! We need something to plug her with so she can make it to the can without soiling the carpet. Greg, go get a bottle of beer. That should do it -- and that'll give her something to drink while she's on the can."

Shit, was there no end to the indignities? I sure hoped not. While Greg went for my plug, Jan reclined on her side beside me in my butt-up position. I looked right at her, worshiping her. She smiled, brushed hair from my eyes, then surprised me by saying, "I love you, Jenny. I always have. Did you know that?"

"No. I knew you liked me a lot, or at least parts of me."

"I knew you weren't sleeping."

"I knew that you knew."

Jan smiled. "Didn't you like the things I did?"

"I did, but they freaked me out. I couldn't relax enough to cum. If I could have cum, things might have been different."

"I tried like hell, didn't I?"

That got a laugh out of me. "I give you straight A's' for effort."

"What would you have done if I had sat on your face?"

"Pushed you off."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, quite sure."

"Yeah, I guess that's why I never did. I thought about it a lot, though. I fantasized that you'd go to push and then get a good taste and hesitate. Gradually, your hands would relax until they fell away. That's when I'd start sliding my cunt over your lips and nose. You're breathing in my musk and tasting my girl honey. Pretty soon, your tongue comes out and you're seeking the hole where all the good stuff is coming from. I ease away and you follow. I have you stretching. I move from the bed and you crawl. I stand and you are kneeling, sucking my cunt when my mom enters to tell us to turn out the light and go to sleep. You can't stop. She comes over, patting your head, and praises me for training you so well -- and then she and I begin to French kiss."

I chuckled, which was cut short when Greg upended an ice-cold beer into my cunt. That'll get a woman's attention. Jan laughed. I absorbed the sensation while my cavernous cunt absorbed most of a sixteen-ounce bottle of dark draft. What a cool sensation. I finally said, "You should have tried. Who knows? I might have hesitated; I might have licked. You do taste pretty good for a girl."

"Yeah, well you missed your chance by being such a prude. Don't worry. We'll make up for lost time. Grab your bottle. We're taking a short walk."

My bottle was under foamy pressure to exit, so holding it in tight was a must. Walking wasn't easy. When I squatted over the toilet bowl and eased the bottle out, a torrent of foamy slop poured out, soaking my hand. Jan laughed as I eased the bottle fully out, then settled to the seat and brought the bottle to my lips for a drink of pussy flavored beer - not bad.

I looked to Jan, who was on her knees between my knees, amusing herself with my dripping twat. I said, "Did you ever get it on with your mom?"

"As a matter of fact, on the night you and I had our big break up, Mom came to comfort me in my room and got in bed with me. She ended up staying all night and I did to her what I did to you, only she thought that was great. She threw off the covers, flipped on the light, and made me a great beaver. She even gave me pointers and let me shave her pussy. After that, we got it on all the time, and it was like I always imagined it would be, even better because she shared me with her boyfriends. They had to use rubbers, but that was neat getting fucked with Mom right there masturbating to it."

"I'm glad you finally got your wish."

"My wish was a threesome of you, me, and my Mom. I wanted her to help seduce you. She could at least pin you down while I got you addicted to the gash."

I laughed, but Jan probably did think that way. After that scene on the bed, I wasn't sure there wasn't something to that notion. Pussy grows on a gal. Jan certainly had a bad case of cunt-itis. She was now licking my pussy while pushing out hard on my inner thighs. Here I was sitting on a toilet, draining after a fuck and this rich lady is licking me. I felt rather odd, but I liked the sight.

I'm watching her when she looks up and says, "Pee for me, Jenny. Just let it flow."

Well, I did have to go, and I was full of her pee. Turn-about is fair play, but it didn't seem right somehow. I mean, she was the lady; I was the whore. The lady owned the whore, not the other way around. Then again, the whore does whatever the lady wants her to do -- so I relaxed and let it flow. The silly bitch lapped at the flow, slurped at the slit, then sealed her mouth to my cunt and sucked me dry - really weird, but pretty neat, too. I lifted up and offered her a better spread to suck on while pissing freely. What a trip! She even wiped me the way I wiped her. She looked refreshed after doing that, ginning like a cat full of catnip as I settled my ass back to the seat.

I had to know where she picked up that nasty habit and said, "So, who taught you that trick?"

"You like?"

"It's different."

"I met a dyke in college. Actually, a dyke raped me in college. She and two of her little sorority slave-girls held me all weekend - in bondage. They drank several cases of beer that weekend, and I drank several cases indirectly. It was pretty fucking bizarre, but I learned never to call a girl a dyke just because she looks and acts like one. They get pissed."

I laughed hard while she got to her feet, saying, "Go ahead and laugh, but guess where your kids will go when they gotta go."

I stopped laughing and said, "Jan, no!"

"Yes, right in Mommy's mouth -- and Aunt Jan will serve them all the soda, Kool-Aid, and even beer they want. Ain't that a pisser?"

"Jan, that's sick!"

"Yes, isn't it? But you know damn well those kids will love it here. They'll get to run around naked and do anything they want with Mommy, because Mommy is just a whore and Aunt Jan says it's okay to have fun with the whore."

That got another smile out of me. "You don't need to have kids. Mine will volunteer for adoption."

"I wouldn't mind."

"I do -- not that what I mind matters much."

"Stop your whining, Jen. Lets go see if Greg wants to play some more."

He did, and we did. We played long into the night and slept in one bed with me sandwiched between them. They made me feel welcome. Greg slept with his dick up my ass; it wasn't easy going in, but Jan slapped my pussy until it fit. Jan slept reversed to me.

I felt like a sex object, but that felt pretty damn good.