0 comments/ 164153 views/ 29 favorites Thrice By: jaybee None of us really noticed anything on our way down the long driveway to our summer cabin. The girls, Shannon, 22, Shirley, 20, and Victoria, 19, were just as excited as their mother, my wife Barbara, that the five of us would be spending a weekend together. Shannon was engaged, and with the wedding just a month away, this was probably the last time the five of us could be together - and we intended to make the best of it. I turned the radio off just as the announcer was mentioning something about a gang of bank robbers who had vanished somewhere in the mountains, and started singing at the top of my voice. Pretty soon, the ladies joined in, and it was one loud ruckus that proclaimed our entry into the cabin's compound. Everything was just as neat as I had hoped it would be. There was a guy who would come up once in a week to clear the yard, and once in a month to clean the house. Vicky, my youngest daughter, pranced around happily in her t-shirt and shorts. Young and exuberant, she was always the exhibitionist of the three - and she had the body that could justify the wild streak! Somehow, her sisters had kept her quiet, but after they had moved out, Vicky just became more daring. Maybe it was just that I was noticing her more only then, but it seemed to me that she spent more time in bikinis and bath-towels than in ordinary, conservative clothes. I will admit I have looked at her with more than a fatherly interest. It would have helped if my wife had been a little more strict in enforcing dress-codes around the house, but no - she was more a friend to her daughters, and wouldn't curtail their freedom in such silly manners. This, of course, led to me walking in when Vicky was sunbathing topless, and even though my wife would be there, neither would I be asked to leave them alone, nor would any instruction be given to my youngest to cover herself. And when her sisters came home during the hols... man, it was just sheer torture. Vicky and Sherry took to sleeping buff naked, and it was always up to me to wake them up. Shannon would come down to the breakfast table on her own though, but her robe would be open enough to reveal that the only thing she had on underneath were her panties. My wife always seemed to have an amused expression on her face when these things happened, and I am sure she knew the effect the girls were having on me. My own idea of revenge was to fuck her pussy off every night... Barb had no complaints about that! When I finally worked up enough guts to tell Barb that the girls were being too immodest around me, she brushed me off, saying that as a red-blooded male, it shouldn't bother me. That got to me. I pointed to my hardon. "It does bother me!" She giggled, then slid her hands into my boxers and toyed with the erection. "Well, I suppose it doesn't make you feel any better that we don't have a son you could have shared this predicament with... But if I remember correctly, you were the one who wanted three daughters. You certainly got them, didn't ya?" "Okay, but - " "Buts nothing! Look, hun, the kids are all grown up. They can do what they want, and if they can't do it here, they will do it somewhere else. Besides, we've always been like pals - to impose silly restrictions would only drive a wedge between us. And don't worry about their immodesty - just think of it as harmless flirtations. Join in the fun, hubby, darling, don't spoil it." I nodded - trust Barbara to get the better of me! Then I grinned naughtily at her. "Does that mean you won't throw me out if I get caught feeling them up?" She gave my cock a tight squeeze before replying, "Only if they don't object, you lecher. You can feel them up all you want, darling, but remember, this Johnny belongs to me!" "I can live with that." Now, as I watched Vicky climb to the top of the car to untie our baggage, the conversation came back to me. It had been a turning point as far as yours truly was concerned, and after that, I had allowed myself the luxury of ogling the girls pretty licentiously. Barbara commented to me once that Vicky had noticed my interest, and was actually considering it a compliment. Not to mention the fact that she seemed to get even more of a kick walking topless around the house. Still, true to my wife, nothing else developed between Vicky and I - except that our goodnight kisses had become longer, our morning pecks more daring, but nothing else. It was obvious that Vicky had not bothered with a bra, and I sure as hell wouldn't have allowed her to go anywhere slse in those shorts. Her full breasts juggled with every little movement, and it wasn't much of a secret that she was the most voluptuous of the three girls. I could even make out the slightly pinkish discoloration of her nipples against the white of her t-shirt, and she had accentuated her curves by stuffing her t-shirt into her shorts so much it was skin-tight. Sherry wasn't any less desirable. She had taken off her blouse in the car itself, and was now in just her bra and miniskirt. It wasn't much of a bra either, more of a webbed covering that was just as revealing as if she had worn a transparent jacket. The rim of her areola was barely covered by the cup of the bra, and a nipple just about poked through one of the holes the webbing had provided. I couldn't believe my wife was letting them wear such things... Shannon, my eldest, was comparatively more conservative, but that didn't disguise her full figure, long legs or apple-sized breasts. Unlike her sisters, who were blonde-haired, Shan's was a brownish tint, emphasising the loveliness of her face and the demureness of her character. She wasn't as brash or outspoken as her younger siblings, but that didn't mean she was averse to batting her eyelids and kissing me indelicately whenever she wanted anything. My wife had once asked me if I could define the kind of girlfriends my daughters would make. I had replied, "Shannon would be an excellent wife, Vicky the consummate mistress. And Sherry would be perfect for the office lover..." Don't get shocked, this was the kind of attitude my wife encouraged in me. To see my little girls as women in their own right. Shannon was attired in a sleeveless blouse, one that looked plain enough up front, but it was only when she turned around that I saw the split in the material. Whether by design or by accident, it showed a lot of her breast, the creamy skin of the side, and when she raised her hands to receive her suitcase from Vicky, I almost had a glimpse of her nipple. Nipples, breasts, pussies,... women... there are some things you can never get enough of seeing. My wife came up from behind me, whirled me around and kissed wetly, obviously jealous that I had been noticing our daughters instead. Never one to cry at a challenge, my wife did what she always did when she felt ignored or threatened - she grabbed my attention. What a kiss! By the time we had finished, the girls had unpacked most of the stuff. Only a couple of heavier cases remained, but they could wait - I was suddenly thirsty, and I figured a good soak in the tub with my wife would get rid of whatever tiredness I felt after five straight hours of driving. "Where's the key?" I asked, realizing that I had given it to one of my daughters. Holding a suitcase in each hand, Shannon gestured towards her breast-pocket. "In here," she said, smiling coyly, "You have to take it." Like I said, Shannon was the shy kid of the three - but that is only by comparison. It wasn't the first time I have had to dip my hands into her pockets. And like the previous times, by the time I had reached the key, my hand was already pressed against her breast. The erect nipple poking was too much of a temptation to resist, and as I drew the key out, I gave her bud a slight squeeze. Doubtless, everyone knew what I was doing, but no one said anything. It was all part of the game. The door opened, and I led the girls into the room. By the time it had registered that something was wrong, the door slammed shut behind us, the lock was turned, and the lights came on. Seven armed men, clothed from head-to-toe (quite unlike my daughters, I thought fleetingly) surrounded us in an instant, the weapons in their arms reflecting the light off their dulled steel. Instinctively, I extended my arms backwards in a protective gesture, as if drawing my family into my folds. "What do you want?" "Shhh!" replied a voice from the other end of the room, and I whirled around. Two men entered from the doorway of the kitchen, weapons drawn, and the taller man spoke. "Please. Do not make noise. We, ah, just rented this cabin for a week -" "The bank robbers!" my wife exclaimed. "Very good," the man said, his attention now drawn to my wife. "The wife is just as well-informed as she is beautiful, is she not, Mr. Michael?" "You know my name?" I was beyond surprise, but his knowledge of my name was definitely intimidating. "Of course," replied the gentleman in black, "As I mentioned, we've been here for a week. It's almost as if we are all - how do we say - family - ah, yes - family now. And these must be the little girls in those photographs." He glanced at my daughters appreciatively, but, Thank God, I thought, not lecherously. "I must say, Mike - may I call you Mike... thank you - I must say that the pictures do little justice to these beauties. You really ought to get newer pictures, Mike. The ones that you have must be antique." "I will consider your advice," I said, with a show of rising indignation, "And if that's all, I suggest you leave now..." The man laughed mirthlessly. "Why is it that every time we try to get friendly, folks like you think we are fools? Look around you, Mike - the weapons are trained on you. Do you know that the one with the weapons gives the orders? Fact is, Mike, pal, you and your family arrived a day too early. Tomorrow, and you wouldn't even have known we were here. However, the fact that you are here right now, with us, puts all of us in a dilemma." "What are you going to do with us?" I would like to say I demanded, but it was more a request, given, as he had so succinctly pointed out, that my wife and kids were in their beads. "That's the dilemma. The thing is, we are neither murderers nor rapists. At the same time, you know we have been here. Now that's unfortunate. We could just shoot you all, but, like I said, we don't want. That doesn't mean we won't, just that it's an option that we are reluctant to consider. As soon as we release you, though, you are gonna run to the cops and say that you saw us." "What if I promise you I won't?" "I may believe you, Mikey, old friend, but some of us here don't. So that brings us to an enforcer, an insurance. Plain old blackmail, if you want to be crude, but it's just to make sure you keep your word. How does that sound?" I was about to say something when I realized that the question hadn't been directed at me. It had been directed at his gang-members; all of them nodded. Yes. Good. "You have a camera here?" the leader of the gang asked me. I shook my head. There was one in the car, a handycam, but why volunteer information? The man apparently realized I was lying, for he signaled towards my wife, and the next thing I know, she was kneeling down in front of us, a gun pointed at her head. "I do not think you have grasped the delicacy of the situation here, Mike. A family doesn't go on a trip without a camera - I am sure you must have one in your suitcase. Or would you rather do it after your wife..." he left the threat hanging. "It's outside," I stammered, "In the car." "Get it. And no nonsense." His eyes lit up when he saw that it was a handycam, with a blank cassette inside. He made a momentary check of the batteries, and then, having satisfied himself that things couldn't be better, turned towards us with a smile. "I have always wanted to make a home video, Mike. This fits the bill rather nicely." Still smiling, he turned to his lieutenant and whispered something in his ear. The second man grinned, and walked over to my wife. I watched helplessly as he dragged her over to a straight-backed chair, pulling her hair, and poor, brave Barbara! As much as it would have pained her, she didn't cry. Vicky clung on to my hand even harder. The man pulled out a pair of cuffs from his pocket and slapped them on my wife, much like the cops arresting a suspect. He turned her around, then, to our horror, pulled down her skirt in one smooth motion. He clamped a hand over her mouth as he pulled her panties down, until it was free, and then, tossing his gun to a cohort, proceeded to gag my wife with her own panties. The room was deathly silent, with only the sound of my wife's strained speech distorted by the cotton strung across her mouth. I was so angry I contemplated charging them right then and there - only Vicky's grip on me held me back. The girls were sobbing silently, and I could do nothing... Using her skirt, the man tied my wife's legs to the chair, as his superior watched with a look of quiet satisfaction. "Now," the latter said when my wife was securely bound, "It's time for action." "Please don't do anything to her," Shannon whimpered. "Of course not, dear. She is just the motivation. Let's just say that her well-being depends on you." I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, and what he said next shocked the senses out of me. "Now how would you like to make a little love with your father?" "You bastard - " The next thing I knew, I was on the floor, gasping for breath. The pain in my stomach was for real... "Please, Mike. Understand us. It's all a question of necessity, is it not? Your wife is the bait, to spell it out. You make love to your daughters, we tape it. We leave with the tape, we ensure your silence. You go to police, the tape finds its way to the right people." "I could show we were forced," I gasped out. "Very good. You are not as dumb as you act. But you seem to forget the nuances of the smaller picture, my friend. By the time your names are cleared, your life, as you know it, will be over. Kaput! Ruined! And as for your daughters... they will forever be known as the whores who bedded their own father. No matter what happens. Let me ask you - is putting us behind bars worth that much to you?" My wife started to sob; we were finished. I glanced at my wife, my heart dying at the sight of her head bent forward, shaking as she cried. I looked at Shannon, my sweet baby Shannon, my DAUGHTER Shannon, whom this prick was asking to lay me... Death seemed a very viable option right then. Shannon, on the other hand, seemed to want to live some more - even as I watched, she slowly raised a hand to her blouse, and had unbuttoned the first one when the man stopped her. "Not here, dear. In there, in your bedroom. We have to make this seem real, no?" The look I shot him could have killed him, to adapt an old cliché, but further retorts were prevented when I was roughly made to stand up again and follow my daughter into the bedroom that had been my wife's and mine. Only one of the hooded bastards followed us, the camera in his hand - the others waited outside, as calmly as if they were watching a movie at the local duplex. "I am sorry," I whispered to Shannon as I held her. "It's alright," she whispered back, turning around to face me, tossing her brown hair over her shoulder. She was lovely, but... this wasn't supposed to happen. Not this way! "Start camera," the leader of the gang boomed. I didn't dare turn back - for if I did, I would see the rest of my family. That I couldn't stand. Shannon saw the reluctance in my eyes, and smiled softly. A thought struck me - had she looked as lovely at another time, when we had been alone, and had we been in a bedroom, I wouldn't have been able to keep my hands off her. Stop it! I told myself. This wasn't the time to act the dirty father... yet, she was so incredibly sexy... And we kissed! She had drawn closer, locked hers over mine, and kissed. Softly. Sexily. Sensually. The thing between my legs rose, and I felt a twinge of shame as I felt it strike against her legs, knowing that she could feel it, but she just continued to kiss me. Her mouth had remained unopened at first, but the moment I parted lips slightly, she darted her tongue into mine. My arms went around her back, while hers snaked up my nape and clutched the back of my head. Without planning it, without speaking it, we sat down on the bed simultaneously. I sank into the soft comfort, pulling her on top of me, and ran my hands through her soft hair. Shoes were kicked off, and I raised a knee between her legs, the upright arch of my thigh able to feel the heat emanating from her pussy. Rather than unbutton her blouse, I slid its loose straps off her shoulder, expecting her to open her eyes at any moment and shout at me. Instead, she lifted her chest slightly, then hunched her shoulders forward so that the blouse came off very easily. Her breasts, just the right size for her tall frame, spilled out into my hands, and everything - my wife, Sherry, Vicky, the bank robbers - everything was forgotten the instant her soft mounds touched my hand. I moved a palm of my hand over her nipple, a hard bud that I guessed was now a darker shade of pink. We were still kissing, and the lip-lock didn't break off even after I hooked a thumb into her skirt and pushed it down. The only resistance I faced from her was when I realized I had pushed her panties down as well, and made to move them back up... ... She raised her hips and pushed them down herself... The feel of her naked body against mine was tremendously exciting, and I ran my hands all over the expanse of her beautiful frame. Before I knew it, my shorts had been pushed to my knees, and her fingers were twirling the hairs on my now-exposed chest. My cock was right between her legs, slapping against her damp hole with loud sounds as I bent my head and started to suckle on her nipples. If instructions had come from anyone, I don't think I heard them - my senses were attuned only to her moans and cries, gyrations and ministrations... The rest of the lovemaking passed in a way I find indescribable. It was too late, it was too soon; it was too subtle, too emphatic; too loving, too wild... the next thing I knew was that Shannon had her head on my shoulder, her body still throbbing after the explosive climax both of us had endured. I had cum inside her - that was one thing I was sure off, and the fact that my cock was still in the confines of her pussy confirmed it. I nibbled on her earlobe, expecting her to break out into sobs any second, but she responded with a giggle. In her characteristic soft voice, she whispered, "I love you, Daddy! That was great!" Hearing the claps, the two of us suddenly jumped up. The whole gang was clapping, its leader beaming at us. As I tried to put my clothes back on, Shannon reached for hers. "See!" the tall man said, "That wasn't so hard." When Shannon bent over in front of me to pick up her skirt, I saw the thick stream of cum-juice that had overflowed from her pussy - courtsey yours truly - and my wife's 'Johnny' rose up into full mast again. The man grinned when he saw my erection. "On second thought, maybe it IS hard!" His crew of thugs laughed along with him. Then he turned serious. "Girl," he said, referring to Shannon, "Don't bother dressing up." Shannon looked puzzled as he gestured for her to get out of the room, wearing only her panties. Then the villain turned to my second daughter, and while the devil in me grinned at the thought of making love to Sherry, the father wanted to say no. Especially when I saw the consternation in her face. "No! I mean, please! Please, don't!" she started to plead. "And why, may I ask, this reluctance?" the tall man questioned. Thrice Bitten I could sense his confusion from down the street. He sat in the diner leaned over his coffee trying to figure out what he had done and why. He couldn’t believe he had just fucked that girl in the middle of his favorite club. She wasn’t even pretty. Just some plain Jane and he had done her in front of all his friends. What had come over him?? I walked into the diner unnoticed and took a seat at the counter where I could see his long dark hair falling over his shoulders. The waitress came to refill his cup and I decided he had not had enough yet. I “told” her to set down the pot and undo her blouse. Her milky white breasts were straining to stay inside the black silk bra that confined them. He stood and kissed her deeply as he reached behind her to undo the bra. I could “feel” her need. She was tired from a long day on her feet and it showed in her face. She was older, late 40’s maybe, but still attractive. With her schedule she didn’t have time for men though and she missed that. She moaned softly as he kissed his way to her neck wrapping his fingers around her elongated nipples. The only ones around at this hour were the cook and myself. He was busy in the back so the lovers were undisturbed as they made their way to a back booth. He laid her down across the table and continued to undress her. The short skirt she wore to try and draw attention was soon lying on the floor. Her black silk panties were moist from her heat. He dropped to his knees in front of her and took in her aroma. With my Vampire sense I could smell her from across the room. Her deep musky scent aroused him in ways he didn’t know possible. He dove in sucking her through the material of the panties. She screamed out in pleasure grabbing his hair and pulling him in tight. Her need was immense and she wasn’t going to let him go until she was satisfied. He, too, was driven mad by lust and ripped her panties aside with his teeth. His tongue found her throbbing clit. He sucked it into his mouth while he drove two fingers deep into her steaming cunt. She bucked towards his face, her womanhood on fire. He threw her legs over his shoulders and nibbled lightly on her clit. He slid his thumb through her juices to get it well lubricated before sliding it deep into her ass. This caused her to flood his face with sweet nectar. He lapped up every drop using his fingers to keep her squirming. The aura in the room was so intense my own need soon took hold. My fangs started to distend as I was reminded I had not yet fed for the night. My pussy was getting wet watching the two copulate for my pleasure. I knew when he was done with her I would take my turn. He stood and let her legs fall to the sides of the table. She was splayed wide open for all to see. He casually dropped his pants and stepped forward again. Once again lifting her legs, he positioned his engorged shaft at the entrance to her still quivering cunt. He reached down with one finger to massage her clit as he slowly slid himself inside. He only let her have the first couple inches before pulling back out. She whimpered at this injustice so on the next stroke he slammed his whole 8 inches home. I let my hand slip between my legs as I watched him fuck her. His strokes were slow and deliberate. He wanted to know every inch of this new cunt before blowing his load. It was so tight, something he hadn’t expected for someone of her obvious years. Her pussy clamped around his cock, sucking it in deep with every stroke. I watched her fingers automatically go to her neglected nipples. She tweaked them in time to his fingers on her clit. She was coming so hard and so fast it was running down her ass and leaving a puddle on the table. Still he worked slowly. Their slow-motion fuck was driving me wild. If he didn’t end it soon he would be in danger of dying tonight beside his little bitch in heat. As if hearing my thoughts his pace quickened. She sat up and wrapped her arms around his neck for stability as he slammed into her hard and fast. I could sense the boiling in his balls and fingered myself as he shot his hot spunk deep in that sweet pussy. When he was done he dropped her back on the table, pulled up his pants and walked out as if nothing had happened. Before he was even out the door, I was on my knees between her legs. I inhaled deeply, enjoying the aroma of their sexual frenzy. My tongue snaked out and tasted their combined juice. Her close trimmed bush held it all in for me. She was exhausted from his exuberance and took no notice that her partners had changed. I let my fangs scrape along her thigh, bringing a heavy sigh from her parched lips. She raised one leg giving me better access to her most sensitive area. My fingers slid deep inside and pulled the nectar out for my enjoyment. I banged away at her already abused cunt as I slurped up their cum and tweaked her clit. Her pussy walls were clenching my fingers while her hips ground into my face. My own hips were pumping away at an invisible cock. She grabbed at my hair, screaming as she came yet again. I was on the edge myself and bit down hard on her clit. The blood mixed with the love juice filled me. I drank thirstily, draining her life while sustaining mine. I licked the juice from the crack of her ass and cleaned her thighs, not wanting to miss a drop. When I was done I dressed her and sat her in the booth. For all intents and purposes it will look like a heart attack when she is found. I headed out the door to see what my real prey was up to. With my appetite I might kill him just by “encouraging” him to entertain for me. I wonder how many times in one night he is good for. Thrice Haunted Castle Kwaidan: Yurei-jo San-do A Ghost Story: The Thrice Haunted Castle Dedicated to Lorena, who has no idea, and never will know, that she was the inspiration. Author's Foreword. If you've read and enjoyed the ghost stories related by Lafcadio Hearn, I hope you'll enjoy this story. Fans of supernatural fiction may also notice some stylistic hints borrowed from M.R. James. ***** One The Merchant There are many beautiful places in Hirasanaka Prefecture of northern Japan and not a few that are frightening. There is only one place of which I am aware, however, that is both beautiful and frightening. It is a castle located on the shore of Lake Chosicho. The lake is bounded on the north by high cliffs and it is on the highest of these cliffs that there sits the castle. The castle is known by locals as the Thrice Haunted Castle. It presents a plain face to the road. When seen from the lake, it is an imposing edifice. The castle appears to be an extension of the cliff face and as it rises, it seems to become part of the very air into which it ascends. The effect is heightened by the reflections of the cliffs, the castle and the sky, for the water where it meets the cliff is as deep as the cliffs are high. The water is an azure blue. The castle extends into the deep water before mounting into the firmament. Everyone who sees it, admits to its beauty. Not everyone admits to its terror. The locals shun the place. They are a wise people who know that the heavens are filled not just with songbirds, but also dragons. And this is the story I was told by these wise ones. The castle was once the home of a proud and noble family. The last member of the clan was a man named Yokunisi. He was accounted as a wise man, a good man, certainly a wealthy merchant, yet fair in his dealings with the local villagers. His business prospered and he added a shipping concern to his mercantile. Next he added a small bank that had originally loaned him money and had grown as his mercantile grew. Before long, he found himself much more than a merchant. His businesses outgrew his capacity to manage them. Luckily Yokunisi had his sons to help him in his growing business empire. He had been a good husband - his honored wife had died a few years before my story opens and he was a contented widower and father. His four sons were wise like their esteemed father and he had so far been blessed with two grandsons from his second son. All his boys had married well and the prospects for the prospects were good for future grandsons. Yokunisi had reasonable hopes that he would one day see his grandsons assume the mantles of his companies. Like many men of a certain age, the merchant took up a rich man's hobbies. He began a series of orchids in watercolor. He studied the migratory and mating habits of the local variety of crane. He kept a fine stable of horses for hunting stags. He bought and bred a pack of hounds for use in the hunt and of these animals he was inordinately proud. These dogs he kept in a purpose-built kennel - more a courtyard than a kennel, actually - underneath one of the balconies off his bedchamber. He had just entered his 60th fall when, as often happens to rich, healthy, and contented men, even the most wise among us, disaster struck Yokunisi. His eldest and youngest sons, while returning from India with shipments of spices and hardwoods, were met with a ferocious storm. The ships were lost with all hands. The loss of goods was sufficiently bad; the loss of his sons was tragic. The merchant took refuge in the thought that, while he mourned the loss of his eldest and youngest, he still had two fine sons and grandsons. The loss of the cargo was merely a drop in the bucket to what was held in his warehouses. The ships had been insured and replacements were already in the ways. Such are the ways of fate, however, that Yokunisi's optimism was shattered. Not a month after the storm, his second son and the entire family were set upon by highwaymen while traveling to the shrine at Aori. Except for three elderly retainers who feigned death at the beginning of the attack, the party was wiped out, men, women, and children. Yokunisi was again devastated. In a handful of months, his family had been literally decimated. He felt the cold breath of fate on the back of his neck. The merchant made fervent prayers towards the protection of his last son. He also begged his boy to take precautions in all he did, avoiding risks in travel. As young men are wont to do, he thought his father obsessed with the ideas of preventing personal danger, but agreed to some precautions. He also agreed that he and his wife would more quickly start a family. The old man's prayers were rejected, or perhaps answered in a negative fashion, when a week after the highway attack, a warehouse fire claimed his remaining son. Disaster was total. Yokunisi's world, at least the personal aspect of it, was destroyed. For seven solid days, he did not leave the family shrine. For seven solid days, he took no sustenance save water. On the eighth day, he sent for his major-domo. The merchant had decided. He had instructions. The trusted servant was to go out into the villages. He was to look for a bride for the merchant, searching among both the high born and the lowly for a suitable mate. Yokunisi knew he must begin anew his family. Time was short for the vernal equinox and its new moon were fast approaching and all knew that the most propitious time for begetting a son was the first hour of the first moon of the first day of spring. The major-domo and three guards set out at once. They combed the countryside, missing not a village, not a hut or hovel, in their quest. And after seven days of searching, they came back with the only possible answer. Two The Beautiful Swan That is how on the eight day after the merchant had ordered his man from the castle that Yokunisi found himself before the front door of a modest home set amidst a small but pleasant garden with its fragrant cedars and dappled pond. The major-domo rapped on the red enameled door with his heavy stick. The portal was immediately opened by a graybeard. The servant steeped aside, allowing his master to ascend the stone step before the door. The merchant bowed deeply to the old man. Yokunisi made a speech explanation, describing himself as but a poor merchant who, bereft of family, had long heard of the household's most beautiful granddaughter. He did not believe himself worthy, but Yokunisi presented himself most humbly for the hand of the fair maiden. He promised a small dowry and his undying faithful fullness to the maiden if she should assent to marriage. The graybeard listened politely, nodding at one point or another, not appearing too anxious to give his granddaughter away. The terms of marriage had already been agreed to between the merchant's servant and the grandfather, of course, yet it was well to listen to the merchant's entreaties. The speech was indeed, well presented and obviously heartfelt. At the end of his speech, Yokunisi bowed deeply again to the graybeard, who was called by the name Tagasura. Tagasura made a speech of his own. His humble abode was unworthy of such an august personage as the merchant. If the great man would deign to enter however, the old man would do his best to entertain he and his retinue with appropriate diversions and Yokunisi could meet first hand the object under discussion. Entry was made. A tea service had been laid out in the living room. As the men knelt on the mats provided, a young woman, head bowed, served drinks and cakes. A canary in a cage sang from one corner of the room. The room itself had its doors thrown open so the men could enjoy the view of the back garden where hyacinths and rhododendron prepared to bloom with the fast approaching spring. The men made small talk. The young woman disappeared. Yokunisi rose. With difficulty, so too did Tagasura. When the merchant bowed, the graybeard returned the gesture. Merchant and servants were escorted to the door. After more bows, the visitors made their departure. Three The Wedding Four days later, the bells rang out at the nearest village's Shinto shrine. Alone, for he had no one to stand with him, Yokunisi waited at the door to the shrine as the bride's wedding party entered, led by Tagasura. Last of all came the bride. With bowed head, she passed her husband. The priest struck the gong inside the temple. As the last echo of the last reverberation faded, the merchant entered and stood before the priest and beside his soon to be wife. She raised her head and he saw that her name, Utsukushi Suwan, was most appropriate, for she was the most beautiful of swans. As the priest droned on earnestly, Yokunishi watched as a lovely rose suffused his future wife's cheeks. Out of the corner of her eye, Kushi, as she was called, saw her future husband give the slightest of smiles. She likewise smiled and in her heart of hearts she was grateful to him who had chosen her and she vowed in her heart of hearts that she would ease his pain, give him many sons. Four The Newest of New Moons It was the appointed hour. The great hallway of the castle was at last emptied of guests. The servants departed. Bride and groom ascended to the wedding chamber and the great doors were shut. As the first sliver of the newest moon appeared over the distant Mount Anira, the beautiful swan cried as she lost her maidenhead and she became a woman. Five Omen? It was nine months to the day - a propitious omen - that Kushi again cried out. This was a new pain, a greater pain. As the midwife instructed, she pushed harder than she had ever pushed before and it would not give, would not relent, so she pushed harder and harder still and filled the castle with her cries until they became screams of pain and effort and toil and at last the pressure was gone and her screams became sobs and a new, fainter cry, echoed among the stone walls and hung tapestries of the castle. It was several minutes before Kushi, her arms trembling, could take the offered bundle from the nurse. It's heft surprised her. She smiled up at her mid-wife who struggled somewhat to return the smile. The new mother opened the gap in the swaddled blankets. She smiled down at the bright dark eyes. What beautiful eyes! Kushi began to say something to the mid-wife when she noticed how abnormally silent she and the nurse were. And the three servant girls who waited by the door. She wanted to ask what was wrong. It was the universal maternal instinct. She opened the blankets around her baby. Fingers. Toes. Then she saw... She was sitting silently when her husband entered her bedroom. He strode in, his step that of a man many years younger than his real age. The nurse took the child from the mother. Gave the child to its father. He, as his wife had done, smiled into the deep soulful eyes. The Yokunisi noticed what his wife had seen. Without a word, he handed the baby to the nurse. Without a word, he left the room. His stride as he exited, however, displayed no youthfulness, betrayed his age. His steps became slower, his back more stooped as he neared the door. He closed it slowly behind him. He passed through the long hallway to his own wing of the castle. The merchant followed the stairs to his own private quarters. He crossed the polished floor. He paced the length and breadth of the room. His brow was deeply furrowed. At last, Yokunisi paused before the wide windows that gave out onto the balcony above the private courtyard of his hunting dogs. He threw open the windows. He mounted the steps up the rail around the balcony. He rested his hands on the smoothly enameled wood of the rail. The dogs below saw him and began a baleful yelping. He called to them, each by name. The barking grew in volume. The hounds began to run in tightening circles as he called to them. Yokunisi suddenly seemed to lose interest in the pack. He looked out across the broad cultivated fields that stretched across the landward side of his castle. Then, leaning out a bit, he craned his neck to see the edge of the lake with its deep azure water. It was a still day. Barely a ripple disturbed the blue surface of the lake or the green surface of the fields. Only the distant line of beeches responded to the breeze that failed to reach the castle. Old. So old... Yokunisi felt a sudden faintness engulf him. Sadness. Loss. Age. He barely felt himself sag as his legs gave way. He barely felt the smooth surface of the balcony rail as it slid beneath his suddenly cold fingers. He was unaware of hitting the hard packed earth of the courtyard. And he certainly did not feel the hot breath of his hunting dogs. Kushi heard the sudden barking of the hounds, heard it change to growls. She had once ridden with her husband, before her condition prevented such outings, and well she remembered the sounds of the pack as it brought down its quarry. The new mother looked down at her bundle. Her child was wailing. She looked at the mid-wife and the nurse and the trembling servant girls. She arose from the divan on which she reclined. Without word or sign to the five women, she removed herself and her burden from their presence. As quietly as had her husband, followed by the echoes of the wailing infant. The halls were empty as she descended to the ground level of the castle. Her hands were empty as she left the castle and went to the cliff edge. The beautiful swan paused only briefly at the edge of the heights before slipping out of sight. Six Spirits Three I have never seen nor heard the three spirits that infest the castle. My wife, who is sensitive to such things and who scoffs at my inability, claims to have both seen and heard them. The two she has seen are terrible, indeed. The ghost of Yokunisi, my wife reports, presents itself as a stooped old man. It's face is torn, as is the throat and blood has spilled down the front of specter's robes. The right sleeve hangs empty and the right leg has been nearly ripped away, with the long upper bone crushed. The ghost shuffles slowly as it moans in pain. The ghost of Kushi is bloated from a week in the cold waters of Lake Chosicho. Small fish have removed the eyes and lips. The flesh is wrinkled and deathly pale; the effects are heightened by the whiteness of the spirit's robes. The ghost sobs softly, although the sobs are interrupted by louder cries. My wife has never seen the third spirit, but reports that the sounds it renders are the most frightening of all. She is wise in such things and says they are the cries of a hungry infant in extreme pain. The wails last for several seconds and then cease - abruptly. Afterword: Perhaps this site isn't the best place to post such short fiction, but I wanted to show the readers out there that I'm not a one-trick pony. The idea came while I was flat on my back in a local hospital with a massive skin infection on my right leg. My temp topped out at 104.6 and I'm told I was in no danger. The second week of January, my laptop was stolen. On it were several erotic stories awaiting their time in the editing routine. Some were backed up on flash drives. Most weren't. Needless to say, January 2015 hasn't been a kind month. If I live to see Groundhog's Day, I'll consider myself lucky. As always, comments are appreciated. I lingered over the ending.; I think thats where the "scare" is. I'm curious to know if it worked. Thrice Shy Why don't women understand that I don't want anything to do with them? Don't get me wrong, I'm not gay or anything like that, it's just that I have a low threshold for self-inflicted pain and my experiences with women fit neatly into the self-inflicted category. I fell in love with my first wife for the very reason that I fell out of love with her, she was popular with men. As she got older and less good looking she had to try harder for that popularity and ended up having several disastrous affairs. The ending was acrimonious and it was some time before I was willing to allow myself to become involved with another woman. I did have several short-term relationships while I was looking but found that a long term commitment was not going to happen, so I broke off these relationships before they went too far. Then I met her, the woman who was to become my second disaster. At first I didn't recognise the signs, not because they weren't there, weren't obvious, it's just that I refused to acknowledge that I'd fucked up again, I had opened my heart up to someone who told me that she loved me and wanted to spend the rest of her life with me. She was everything that a man could look for, she was kind, she was attentive, she was affectionate, oh boy was she affectionate. And the sex, the sex was great. It wasn't the physical, this is how I please a man sex, of my first wife, it was the 'Oh my God, you know how to please a woman!' sex that boosted my flagging ego from day one. She gave herself to me totally, she allowed me to lead her through many different sexual experiences, at least that is what I thought, but on looking back over our lives I came to realise that it was she that was leading the experience. I was fooled by her pretence at naivety, her lack of experience, but, as I was to discover later, she was much more experienced sexually than she at first admitted. But that's all in the past. The dust has settled on all of that and I'm fulfilling one of my, our, dreams, I'm touring the country in my mobile home, all that remains from the financial ashes of my marriage. We had often discussed doing just this but had never got around to doing it. So now it's just me and the dog, travelling around Australia with all the other 'grey nomads' or 'SKI's', people 'spending kids inheritance'. One thing is for sure, I'm too old and too smart to fall for another woman. It was getting late in the afternoon when we pulled into the caravan park at Geary's Inlet, a small coastal town on the Eastern seaboard, around halfway between Sydney and Brisbane. This was on my list of parks that would allow pets, so Bruno and I were looking forward to a pleasant stay. It had taken no more than ten minutes for me to check in and plug my motor home into the site, the water and power were connected and the waste hose was hooked up and I was draining the waste from several roadside stops into the sewerage system. Bruno was wandering around the site checking on the 'pee-mails' left by previous canine visitors when she walked by. Bruno lifted his head and his tail started wagging at a hundred miles an hour. "Aren't you simply gorgeous?" She said as the traitor stood on his hind legs to allow her to pat him. "And what's your name?" "His name's Bruno." I said as I walked from behind the motor home. "What breed is he?" "He's a miniature schnauzer." I wasn't all that keen to engage in any meaningful conversation with anyone. "He's such a friendly dog." How could I explain to her that, under normal circumstances the traitor would have had her backed up against the side of the van and wouldn't have allowed her to move until I came to drag him away, it was part of his breeding to protect his master and home from intruders and interlopers. She would never have believed it, not now that he was behaving against type. "He's not usually this friendly, I usually have to go through an elaborate introduction process before he's a friend, but he seems to have taken it on himself to do the introductions. I'm Grant, Grant Miller." "Pleased to meet you Grant, I'm Eve, short for Evelyn, Williams I'm pleased to meet you, and Bruno." She held out her hand leaving me with two options, to be rude and ignore her, or to take the proffered hand and shake it. Not being a rude person I took her hand, and was somewhat surprised at the strength in it. "If you don't mind me asking, seeing as you've only just arrived and it's about dinner time, what are your plans for dinner?" "I was going to cook up some fish I caught earlier today and have it with a fresh salad and a glass of wine, or two." "What kind of fish?" "Flathead, I seem to have a knack of being able to catch them." "They're my favourite eating fish. I can't have you eating alone tonight, so what say I bring the wine and help with the cooking, and we can eat together." This woman, Eve, spoke in a tone that brooked no interference. This, it seemed, was a woman who was used to saying what she thought and getting her own way. Still, it could turn out to be an interesting evening and less excruciating than looking at a grainy television screen showing a program that I'd probably seen a year ago in the city. The meal was great, steamed flathead and fresh, lightly dressed salad washed down with a chilled glass of Sauvignon-blanc followed by another glass, and another, until we were well into our second bottle. There was something about Eve that didn't quite ring true. While she came across as being confident, as being self-assured, behind that veneer there was another person entirely trying to get out, someone less confident, almost vulnerable. She told me a little about how she came to be in this little coastal town, it had something to do with being unable to cope with the pressures of the big city, in this case Sydney, and her high pressure job with a media company. There was something more to this story, but for me to try and dig it out I would have to open up about myself and just now that was something that I was not about to do, so I let the conversation drift slowly along. It was late and I was tired. Eve stood up. "You two look like you could do with a good night's sleep." She was right about me but Bruno had been asleep for the last two hours and only woke up when she stood up. "I'll see you in the morning and I'll show you around town and maybe even take you to the best fishing spot." She kissed me lightly on the cheek and patted Bruno's head as she left. The traitor followed her for twenty or so metres before turning around to see if I was coming too. Reluctantly he turned back and jumped sulkily into his bed. "Goodnight to you too." I told him as he totally ignored me. I had just poured the long-life milk on my cereal and into my coffee mug when there was a tap on the van door. Bruno's greeting was different to the usual 'Come in if you dare!' loud growl, it was more, 'it's about time you got here.' The door opened and Eve entered. "Did you sleep well?" Bruno answered in the affirmative as she sat down and placed a basket on the table. "I thought you might like a substantial breakfast seeing as how we'll be busy today." She began to unpack the contents, a heat proof container with freshly cooked scrambled eggs, and another that contained hot toast, as yet un-buttered, a container of juice and a thermos of percolated coffee. I put the plate of cereal on the floor for Bruno who looked at it as if it was poison before walking back to his bed. Breakfast over we left the van and walked down the street into the town. Bruno was on his lead, which he didn't mind, but he had placed himself between us. There wasn't a great deal to see in this small town, a supermarket, a service station that dispensed disgustingly high priced fuel to people who would have to pay that price if they wanted to leave, which could explain why there were so many still here, and a couple of small stores that sold souvenirs and bric-a-brac and a bait and tackle shop. As we walked down the street I couldn't help but notice that everyone we met called Eve by her name and stopped to talk to us. Most of them were on a fishing expedition trying to find out who I was, and I was happy to remain anonymous beyond my name. "Do you know everyone here? It certainly seems that way." "Well I have been here for a while." "How long is a while?" "Just over a year." "If you don't mind me asking, what on earth made you come here?" "Not now, I'll explain it all to you later." The Bait and Tackle shop was on the shore of the inlet and I watched to see which direction the tide was flowing. It was still coming in. "I think I might see what the fishing is like here this afternoon. I fancy that there might be some flathead here." "You fancy right. I caught a couple of big duskies yesterday afternoon." The Proprietor, the sign over the door told me his name was Ted, said. "Did you use bait or a lure?" "I used a prawn without a sinker and let it drift." I turned to Eve, "Do you fancy drowning some bait with me after lunch?" "Sure. I don't have any fishing gear, but if you have any spare then I'm up for it." "Let's get some lunch then and see what we can catch later." The three of us sat in the ubiquitous Beer Garden and fought our way through the mound of food that your typical country pub thought you needed to survive. Bruno did well out of the meal, managing to get at least half of my huge, succulent, steak and about two thirds of Eve's. The fishing was brilliant, after a few lessons on casting, she couldn't bring herself to putting the prawn on the hook, and Eve had caught her first fish, a good sized flathead. I had decided to stick to my tried and true method and was using a brightly coloured soft plastic lure and it wasn't long before I had two quite large fish on the bank. "I think we have enough for a good feed tonight." I said as I took the lure off my line and packed it into my tackle box. As we walked into the caravan park I turned to Eve, "Which van is yours?" "Van? Oh I don't have a van." "But you live here, don't you?" "Yes, but not in a van, or even a cabin, I own the place." "You own it?" "Don't tell me you find that such an amazing fact." "Well, no, I guess I don't, but now you're really going to have to tell me all about how you happened to be here." "All right, but let's get these fish cleaned and in the fridge and get a drink, then I'll talk." Talk she did. And I thought that my life was a disaster. "I told you that I worked for a media company in Sydney, well I started there as a Secretary and a couple of years ago I had worked my way up to be the PA of the CEO, which meant that I had to make sure that he was always where he was supposed to be, when he was supposed to be there, and that he had all the information, that would be quoted in any reports, at his finger tips." "I should have realised that he was one of those people that did as little as possible and then only if he could gain some benefit from it, the mundane stuff he left to the minions." "He was charming, thoughtful, he never forgot my birthday and the present was always just what I wanted. I suspected that he got someone else to buy it, just as he got me to buy the presents that he gave his wife. Before you ask, yes I was in love with him, and yes, I slept with him, and yes I dreamed of the day that he when he would leave his wife for me, but that was before I really got to know him." "But then it all fell apart and I came to realise what a total arsehole he really was. He had asked me to put some of his financial transactions through to Accounts, and what I didn't realise at the time was that they were totally false. The bastard had been transferring funds into a private bank account for his own use, and from there it was shipped off-shore where the company couldn't touch it. But of course, because I put the paperwork through, I got blamed for it. When I confronted him with the facts, thinking that he'd support me, he basically told me that the company couldn't touch him and that I was to be left carrying the can." "The company tried to pin it on him, they had been watching him for some time, but couldn't, so he was 'let go', the media release stated that he was taking up a position with an un-named media company overseas. Of course they had to fire me as well, but I received a very generous ex-gratia payment from them, under the counter of course, on the understanding that I wouldn't seek employment with one of their rivals." "Because I had had enough of that industry I decide to take time out and have a holiday and found myself here at a time when the caravan park came onto the market. I had the funds, and it seemed like a good decision at the time, so here I am. And that ends the potted life history of Eve Williams. Your turn." "I had a successful winery that I inherited from my father. I expanded the business by changing the marketing direction from bulk supply to the local consumer to more boutique styles that would appeal to the more sophisticated palate, and the move worked. The wine industry involved a lot of hard work and many long hours, something had to suffer, and that something were my two rather disastrous marriages." "My first wife, while the attention we received at wine shows and industry functions appealed to her, that lack of attention when the workload was high, during vintage for instance when I would often put in a twenty hour day, meant that she wasn't the centre of my universe and she always had to be the centre of attention. So she looked for men who would treat her in the manner that she desired. I eventually had enough of it and divorced her." "Financially I only just survived that, she wanted as much as she could get and I gave it to her just to get rid of her." "My next disaster I didn't see coming until it was too late. I found out after it was over that I was something of a project for her, she thought that she could change me into being something that I was never going to be, and when that didn't happen she bailed, taking me to the cleaners in the process. I managed to get enough for the winery to meet her financial demands but it left me without the business that I loved, and no job, so here I am. The only things of value that I salvaged from that mess were some good wines that I have in storage and Bruno. He was the winery mascot. He lived in the cellar sales area and if anyone tried to break in at night he would have made a mess of them, but once the doors were opened each day he was the friendly greeter of customers that everyone loved." "He is my protector whether I need him to be or not, that is why I was surprised at the greeting that you got last night. Normally he won't let a woman get anywhere near me." "We're a couple of wrecks aren't we?" Eve said, "What are we going to do about it?" "We have this fish that we caught this afternoon, I suggest that we eat them while they are fresh and see what happens after that." The Park Manager's residence was a far cry from my barely adequate living quarters. The kitchen was spacious but for some reason Eve and I kept bumping into each other. The living room was large and the sofa huge, but we were seated close to each other watching television, at least the television was on. Bruno was stretched out on a rug in front of us and took no interest in what we were doing. Eve was looking into my eyes as if to try to read my innermost thoughts. "What?" I asked. "What I can't work out is, after all that I've been through with the men in my life, and the fact that I swore that I would never get involved with one, ever, I'm sitting here beside you, I've bared my soul to you, and I'm about to go back on everything that I promised myself. It must have been fate that led me to your van last night." Her hand reached out and came to rest gently on my cheek. She turned my head to her and, just before her lips caressed mine I saw tears well up in her eyes. It wasn't the most passionate kiss I'd ever received, that honour would have to go to my second wife, but it was the most sensuous by a country mile, and it demanded a response. I have had kisses in the past that have left my lips red and puffy after five minutes but Eve's kisses I could have enjoyed all night without any discomfort, not that it lasted all night, it lasted all of a couple of minutes before she fell against me and I could hear her softly sobbing against my chest. "Tell me I'm not about to make the biggest mistake of my life." "I can't tell you that because I don't know whether you are or not, all I can say is I feel the same way and that we should let our feelings guide us and go along for the ride. Let's enjoy the trip and if the destination is what we want then that's a bonus." This time I kissed her, just as softly, and I could feel something stirring inside me, and I don't mean the stirrings in my loins, which was a different matter entirely. Her hand that had been behind my head holding me close released itself and I felt it on my cock. "What have we here?" "You haven't met Dick have you?" "No but I feel that I'm about to." She worked the zipper down and introduced herself to Dick, kissing him through the cloth of my shorts. He seemed pleased to meet her, in fact he was straining to meet her. "I think we should adjourn to the bedroom." It wasn't an order, it was more of a suggestion and one that I agreed with. I held her close to me as we stood at the foot of her huge bed. "I hope that we aren't going to do something tonight that we'll regret in the morning." I whispered between kisses. In answer Eve undid my trousers and they dropped to the floor. I stepped out of them, and my shorts that were just behind the trousers and she dropped to her knees in front of me. The softness of her kiss was repeated in what she did to my cock. In minutes there was nothing soft about him, he was rearing to go, he was champing at the bit, and then he was shooting his load of cum into her throat. I'd had blow jobs in the past but nothing came close to the one that I'd just been on the receiving end of. I lifted her up and took off her clothes before I gently laid her on the bed. Her body lay pale in the moonlight that streamed through the curtains, the only dark patches were her nipples and the small tuft of dark hair of her pubes. These patches of darkness became the focus of my attention, she could barely feel the touch of my fingertips, of my tongue, as I explored her. Even so, the feather touch was arousing her, she moaned softly and her body began to writhe under my touch until, with a half scream her back arched and she began to spasm. My finger had just entered her pussy and was rubbing against her clit when all hell broke loose. She grabbed me and pulled me to her, her arms locked around me preventing me from moving until she had subsided. "Oh my God, I have never felt like that in my life and you haven't even introduced Dick to my pussy. What will happen when you do?" "There's only one way to find out." Dick was standing at attention ready for duty, so I pointed him in the right direction and left him to it. He touched pussy gently and then moved into her, pausing to get his bearings, after all it had been a while, before proceeding further. He was in no rush, choosing instead to savour each moment, each second, of his journey, I was just along for the ride and what a ride it was. It was a journey like no other that I had ever been on, one that gave me so much pleasure, every single part of me was tingling with excitement, with anticipation, and when the journey was over and I had reached my destination, every fibre of my body had reached that destination. I have never had such an experience as this. This wasn't fucking, this was something else, and intangible experience beyond anything that mere words can describe. Thrice Shy I have tried, God knows I've tried, not to lower my guard, not to allow another woman into my life, but I have to admit that this experience was unlike any of my previous experiences with women. I felt so open, so vulnerable, I was exposing myself to potential disaster of monumental proportions, but I know that there is no likelihood of that happening with Eve, with the woman who is lying so contentedly beside me, her arm around my neck and her lips still softly against mine. My hand caressed her body, my fingers finding her pussy, her legs parting at my touch, the invitation to be a part of her. I made love as I'd never made love before. There was nothing mechanical about what I did to her that night, what she did to me, what we did to each other, it was sensuality, it was animal passion, it was pure lust, but most of all it was a joining together of two people who had never believed that something like this could happen to them, a melding of souls into the one being. I cried, Eve saw my tears and brushed them away with her lips. "Why the tears?" "I can't explain it, I feel so happy, so incredibly happy so why am I crying? Unless..." "Unless what?" "Unless I'm so relieved that I've found someone who is just so perfect for me that, that the fear and tension that I've felt from my previous experiences has been lifted from me, that I feel that I can lay myself open before you without fear." "I know just how you feel. Remember when I asked you to tell me that I wasn't about to make the biggest mistake of my life and you said that you couldn't? You have answered me in the best possible way. This is no mistake, this is fate. I'm not a religious person but I believe that there is some divine power behind all of this, how else can it be explained. By our own admissions we should never have even started talking to each other, I should never have even gone for a walk past your van, Bruno should never have let me get close to you, yet here we are, just about to embark on a most amazing experience together." There is something else that I can't explain; how can two people make love all night, have as many orgasms as we did, get absolutely no sleep and still be as wide awake as we were the this morning. Bruno looked at us with that quizzical look that he sometimes gets and then he walked over to Eve and stood beside her as if to say; 'you're mine now.' We, that is Bruno and I, moved our gear, such as it was, into Eve's house and I placed a 'For Sale' sign on the van. I know I'm doing the right thing. Thrice "I am having my periods," she blurted out, and the man laughed. "That's a very feeble excuse, my dear." "It's the truth. My period is due in just a couple of days' time. If Dad screws around with me now..." "He could get you pregnant, is that what you are saying?" She nodded, sobbing. "In that case, shall I send your younger sister into your father's arms, instead?" His tone was sneering now, as if daring her to send her sister to hell. Strangely, I realized that I didn't care who got it from me next - it was almost certain no one was being spared. Truth be told, the idea of knocking up my own flesh and blood was starting to sound a lot appealing. Shirley at three months. Shirley at six months. Seven, eight... Shirley delivering our child. Shirley nursing the baby... me nursing alongside... it wasn't such a bad idea at all! Shut up! I watched as Shirley glanced at the pleading face of Vicky, and then, with a sudden show of determined resolution, fixed her lips into a straight line. "No. I'll do it." The gang cheered, and seeing Vicky's angry expression, I realized that she hadn't been asking her sister to protect her, she had been asking her to allow her! Pretty soon, you sexy thing, I thought to myself as I watched her fidgeting uneasily. Shirley walked up to me as I was still putting up a show of pulling up my pants, and with the same determination on her face, just pushed my hands away. The pant fell to the floor, but no sooner had it done so than had my second daughter pushed me onto the bed and jumped on top. Her kiss was wilder than her sister's had been - she slobbered all over my face before planting a big, wet one on my lips, while her waist ground mercilessly against my naked thigh. It was as if the lovemaking with Shannon had been pushed into fast-forward motion - and the next thing I know, I was between her naked legs, face clamped down on her pussy, orally fucking her until she came all over my face. Her legs were locked around my head, her hands clutched my hair, and the air I breathed in was full of her womanly scent. I didn't know if she had been telling the truth about being in heat, but if she hadn't, I didn't know if I could last a Shirley in heat. She was like a woman possessed, and where her sister had been quiet in her moans and cries, Shirley's sounds filled not only my senses but also that of every other person within a mile's radius of the cabin. Had we been in the city, the law would have broken in by now. The only pause in our frantic, almost desperate, love-fucking came when I was about to enter her. "Can I?" I asked, remembering her protestations that she could get pregnant. Her answer was a rabid kiss on my lips, followed by a cry of "God, I want you to!" Then she looked me in the eye, and in a voice suddenly audible only to the two of us, "We've come this far, let's make life together. Make me a mother, daddy, make me your kid's mother." As I slammed to the hilt inside her, I realized that this was the maximum any woman had ever taken me - my daughter had been the first! Seized with a sudden burst of inspiration, I grabbed her earring with my mouth and nibbled on her earlobe. It wasn't too late after that when the two of us came together, and I was surprised that I was able to shoot so much after so little time. Her flesh had a delicious taste, her sweat that sweet, heady odor of sex, that even after we collapsed the peak, we just held each other and savored the touch. No sooner had Shirley walked out of the room than Vicky rushed in, a big grin on her face. She shouted, "Tickle, tickle!" as she jumped on top, and for a few minutes, we just played with each other. I hadn't thought I could match her enthusiasm, but hers was contagious. We fell off the bed with a plop, her light body cushioned by mine. We rolled around on the floor now, tickling at first but ending up with me attempting to swallow an entire breast. Vicky wrapped her arms around my head and pushed herself even deeper into my mouth. I was more than a little overcome by her effusiveness, her demands, her brashness, but before long, I was dancing to her tunes. Not even my wife had been able to snatch away the initiative from me when we were at it. And now, here was a nineteen-year old nympho making me seem conservative. She made me lick her from head to toe, asshole and cunthole included, and then, with her pussy still reeling from an onslaught by my fingers, got into a 69. At the last moment, when I had thought I would blow into her mouth, she whirled around and plonked over my cock, impaling herself to just a hair's breadth of the depth her second sister had given me. And as if that hadn't been enough, the minx worked my erection up once again and convinced me to bugger her. All while her sisters and mother were watching from just a few feet away. I guess the exertion of screwing three hot-blooded females was just too much for me - sleep came, and I was too tired to fight it. I fell asleep with Vicky still on top of me, her breasts on either side of my neck as she kissed my forehead. It was late midnight when I awoke, only to find myself sandwiched between three naked bodies. The light in the living room filtered in through the gap between the door and the floor. I called out for my wife a couple of times, but there was no reply. I looked at the bed, where my three daughters were sleeping, each with a semi-conscious smile on her face, and all totally nude. I cursed myself for falling asleep, then thanked God that there didn't seem to be any marks of violence on their bodies. What marks there were had been, I recalled with a sigh, had been made by their father... at least, they were happy about it. There was a white envelop on the floor, and I picked it up to find the key to the room and a small note. It was unsigned, and scrawled, in a deliberate effort to disguise its identity. Not wanting to rouse the girls, I walked into the bathroom and switched the light on. "Mike. We have the tape. You have your daughters. Enjoy." What about Barbara? The key that had accompanied the short message unlocked the door to the living-room, and it was only when I saw my wife on the chair, still tied up, fast asleep, that I was able to breathe freely again. The front door was closed, but unlocked; I locked it before studying the sitting form of my wife. I realized I was very hungry, very thirtsy - in a selfish moment, I decided that untying my wife would have to wait. Noiselessly, I made my way to the kitchen. The men had been very considerate - the thermos flask was full with hot milk, with a small note that read, "Thanks for the hospitality!" I poured myself a cup and walked to the living room. Just as I woke Barbara up, there was a slight shuffling sound in the bedroom. Shannon stood there, nude, rubbing her eyes. There was no discernible change in her mother's eyes at the sight of the naked daughter, only the hint of a... smile? "Good morning, Daddy," she greeted, moving towards me. She gave me a kiss on the forehead and kissed her mother in a similar fashion. "And you too, Mommy." My wife nodded - she still hadn't been untied, and the panties were still over her mouth. Shannon turned towards me with a smile. "You know, Daddy, you didn't actually eat me out like you did to Sherry and V. You have to make up for it, you know." To say I was rendered speechless would be an understatement. There was no reason why she should ask me to sleep with her - unless she wanted me to, I reminded myself - but now that the villians had gone, I had thought there wouldn't be any excuse to screw around with my daughters. Now, not only was Shannon wanting an encore, she was also asking for it in front of her mother. I turned to look at my wife. "Besides, I get married in a month, in case you've forgotten," added Shannon, smiling sweetly at her mother. Barbara's eyes softened, and to my great astonishment, she nodded. "Thanks, Mom," Shannon placed a kiss on her mother's cheek before linking her arm possessively through mine and leading me towards the second, uninhabited, bedroom. "What about your mother?" I asked. "Let me untie her - " "Oh, don't be silly, Daddy. I am sure Mom doesn't mind. Do you, Mom?" How could Barb reply - her mouth was still gagged. I raised my eyebrows at my eldest. "See," she remarked, drawing my arm all the way around her waist. "I told you she didn't." As we walked into the bedroom, I could feel my wife rolling her eyes at us. Oh, well, if she had any problems, she would have told us, no? Shannon and I fell into bed... It's been five years now, since that day in the mountain cabin when my life - and my family's - changed forever. For those of you interested in the little details, yes, my wife did finally get untied the next day, but not before Vicky and Sherry had frolicked with me once more. The three sex kittens put off setting my wife free until I convinced them that she wasn't going to stop us. Needless to say, once she was untied, Barbara chased the four of us around the house with a frying pan until we tackled her down and threatened to tie her up once again. We all laughed together then, and my wife threw a big lunch to celebrate... If you still can't believe my wife let me sleep with all three of our daughters, you definitely won't believe if I tell you that she has absolutely no conscience in distracting her sons while I sneak off with the wives, my daughters. Only Shirley didn't get married, and she lives with us. Our encounter that night did produce a life - approximately that night, for within ten months, I was rushing for diapers - and we have a little hut set up in the city where we are husband and wife. Not that Shannon or Vicky have anything to complain about - like I said, they have absolutely no morals in cheating their husbands and spending some time with me - but Shannon's husband caught us. Poor guy - we managed to convince him it was a recent affair - and we managed to get the guy and his sister together. As long as he doesn't realize that none of his kids are his, he can go screw an apple tree for all I care. And I don't suppose Vicky's husband will say anything either - not when he's been fooling around with his mother, Barbara! Thricegiving This is an entry in the 2008 Literotica Winter Holiday Contest. If found anywhere except Literotica.com with this note attached, this story has been posted without my permission. Copyright © Les Lumens ♠~~ΘΘ~~φ~~ΘΘ~~♠ Rachel checked her coupons and let out a sigh. At least turkey is still cheap. I'll be eating it until New Years, though. As if the economy wasn't tough enough, she was still trying to recover from her divorce a year earlier. Fortunately, she hadn't given in to her ex-husband's near demands to quit her job. If not for that, she might very well be living in a homeless shelter instead of squeaking by to rent her modest home. Rachel tugged a strand of shoulder-length, dark blonde hair from beneath her purse strap and headed toward the checkout. Her lips twitched up into a slight smile as she passed a pair of stockers. She could hear them whispering about her, and could feel their eyes on her. At thirty years old, she couldn't help but smile when two such young men found her attractive, despite her inability to have any sort of relationship since her divorce. With Thanksgiving dinner and a week's groceries in her basket, Rachel returned to her ten-year-old Oldsmobile for the short trip home. She had no more than pulled into the driveway when the local sheriff stopped in front of the house. Thinking nothing of it, Rachel waved and popped the trunk of her car. As she sorted through her keys for the one to the front door, the sheriff stepped out of his car and walked in her direction. Rachel paused in her path to the door and asked, "Can I help you, officer?" The sheriff sighed and walked up to her, carrying a piece of paper. "Ma'am, I'm afraid that I'm here to give you all the notice I can. I have an order to evict you." Rachel's keys clattered to the concrete below. "Evict me? But, my rent is paid. I've always paid it on time." "I'm sorry, Ma'am. Your landlord defaulted on his mortgage. The bank is taking possession, so you're going to have to move. By law, I should be doing it today, but I found out that you were renting. I have enough other evictions to execute that I can give you a day or two and claim overload." Tears flowed down Rachel's cheeks as the weight of the words settled on her shoulders. She shuddered as she fought down sobs, her face burning with shame as neighbors turned in her direction. "But, I don't have enough money for a deposit. I don't even have enough to rent a truck. How can they do this? I thought the bank had to give me notice." "The bank did give notice — to your landlord. I'm sorry, Ma'am, but you're not likely to get back your deposit, either. I recognize the name on this." He waved the document in his hand. "Your landlord has run off somewhere. You're not the first one he's left high and dry in town." Feeling faint, Rachel stumbled back against her car, no longer able to contain her sobs. Her next door neighbor, Elise, put down a pair of pruning shears and walked over, having overheard the conversation. "Oh, Rachel... I can have my son bring over his truck." "I... I don't have anywhere to g-go," Rachel sobbed. "Isn't there anything you can do, Gerald?" Elise asked. The sheriff shook his head. "There's nothing I can do except give her a couple of days, Elise." More neighbors approached, all concerned for the seemingly shy young woman whom they'd come to like in the last six months since she'd moved into the neighborhood. Despite knowing this, Rachel couldn't help but feel burning shame at having her life turned upside down in such a public manner. Everyone offered suggestions and help, but there was little anyone could do about Rachel's most critical problem — lack of money to start over again. The sheriff left, promising to give Rachel as much time as possible, but warned her that he couldn't forestall the eviction for long. Rachel managed to regain her composure enough to thank him and her neighbors for their efforts, though she was steadily slipping into a helpless melancholy. An older gentleman from the other side of the street approached just as Rachel was about to go inside. A couple of obviously Native American descent followed him. "Here now, you should hear these two out," he suggested. The native man offered a friendly nod and said, "I'm Chaytan, and this is my wife, Mika. We live on Plymouth Avenue, and we might be able to help you. We're looking for a boarder to help keep our utility costs down. Our house was once divided into two apartments. We thought to remodel it, but haven't had the money to do it, yet." Rachel shrugged her shoulders and said, "I don't have any money for a deposit." "We want to help," Mika offered. "We won't ask for a deposit." "How much?" Rachel asked, unconsciously twirling a lock of blonde hair over her finger as she tried to keep from getting her hopes up. Chaytan answered, "We decided that four hundred would be enough — utilities included. That will pay all of the utility bills and let us save that money for the future." Tears of joy rolled down Rachel's cheeks, as the price was less than the rent she'd paid to her unscrupulous landlord, and included utilities. Mika offered a wide smile and suggested, "You can come see it, if you like. We are only using one room on that side of the house for storage right now." "It would have to be pretty bad for me not to accept with the straits I'm in," Rachel responded with a nervous laugh as she wiped the tears from her eyes. Chaytan took his wife's hand and said, "Come, then. Let us see if we can help each other." ♠~~ΘΘ~~φ~~ΘΘ~~♠ Rachel thanked her old neighbors as they left to return home, having succeeded in moving all of her things in only one day. She let out a sigh of relief, amazed at her good fortune. Though she didn't have quite as much room as in her old home, she had more than enough. All of the utility hookups remained from when the house had served as two apartments, which meant she could have her own kitchen and laundry room. She could easily live completely separate from her new landlords, but socializing with the couple as she moved gave her indications that she probably wouldn't. Mika stood in the doorway separating the two halves of the house when Rachel shut her door. "Care for some tea?" "I'd love some. Thank you." Mika beckoned Rachel into the other side of the house and turned. Rachel felt a little envious of Mika's long, dark locks, which reached nearly to her shapely bottom. Rachel tore her eyes away from that sight, not wanting Mika to see the evidence of her constantly suppressed desires. Her attraction to both sexes had awakened at almost the exact same time in her youth, though she'd never indulged her attraction to other women, and felt ashamed of the feelings. Mika had already prepared the tea, which sat steaming on a coffee table in front of the couch. The dark haired beauty remarked, "It's nice to have some company. I don't really fit into the social circles here." Rachel smiled as she sat down and revealed, "Neither do I. How long have you lived here?" "We moved here last year when Chaytan was promoted," Mika answered. The two women chatted about their past for more than two hours, learning much about each other and growing more comfortable by the minute. When Mika rose to prepare dinner before her husband returned from work, Rachel offered to help. Rachel quickly proved her capability in the kitchen, prompting Mika to mention, "I noticed you have a turkey. For Thanksgiving?" Rachel nodded and dried the wooden spoon she'd just washed. "It's far too much for one, but I just couldn't break tradition. I was put in charge of the holiday meals when my mother took sick when I was thirteen. After that, it just became my place, even once Mom recovered." Mika smiled nervously and chuckled. "My only attempt proved a disaster. We ended up going to a Chinese restaurant that year." "Do you have any plans for Thanksgiving?" Rachel asked. Mika shook her head. "Both of our families are out West, and they don't celebrate Thanksgiving." "It sounds like we can help each other out again, then. I'll cook Thanksgiving dinner, and the two of you can help me eat it so that I'm not still having turkey sandwiches in mid January." "I was hoping you might say that," Mika said with a slightly embarrassed smile. "I can help, and maybe learn how not to have cardboard turkey hours later." "I wasn't looking forward to spending Thanksgiving alone," Rachel admitted. "I thought you looked a little sad when you put the turkey back in the freezer. I guessed that might be it." Rachel started to ask a question, but thought better of it. The thought must have shown in her expression because Mika asked, "What is it?" Rachel answered, "It's nothing. Way too personal." "We won't know that unless you ask." Rachel took a deep breath and said, "Well... I just wondered about you celebrating Thanksgiving." Mika smiled and let out a little laugh. "Our families don't understand it either. There are still hardships for our people, and there's still prejudice, but Chaytan and I believe in moving forward, not looking back. It's a wonderful celebration about family, and reflecting on the blessings of the previous year." Mika sighed, and then shrugged. "We lost touch with a lot of our heritage to break free of the chains of poverty, but we hope to someday support those who maintain the old customs, and do our part in our own way." Rachel smiled and said, "I think you understand Thanksgiving better than most people do." The egg timer on the counter went off, drawing a glance and an odd stare from Rachel. Mika noticed the look and asked, "Is everything okay?" Rachel chuckled and waved a hand dismissively. "Just reminds me too much of my biological clock — tick-ticking away." Mika's shoulders slumped a little and she nodded her head in sad agreement. Rachel groaned, "Oh no." She walked over and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up something painful." Mika shrugged and forced a grin. "I'm coming to grips with it. Everything is just fine — except my eggs. For some reason, they just won't develop." "Now I feel terrible," Rachel said, and hung her head. Mika took Rachel's hand and said, "Don't. Sounds like we can both use some support and encouragement. Maybe we can do it for each other." A chill raced up and down Rachel's spine from the soft touch, bringing a little smile to her lips. The temporary dip in the mood vanished as quickly as it had arisen. Not long after, the sound of the front door opening heralded Chaytan's return, and he wore a wide smile when his wife and Rachel set the table with baked chicken and all the trimmings. Somehow, Rachel didn't feel at all out of place when she joined the couple at the dinner table. In fact, it felt more strange to her to pass back through the door into her side of the house a couple of hours later. Feeling upbeat and remarkably comfortable in her new home, Rachel quietly hummed as she showered in preparation for bed. ♠~~ΘΘ~~φ~~ΘΘ~~♠ Rachel assisted with dinner again after work the next day, and once again shared the table with her new friends. The couple seemed even more animated this evening than the last, and Rachel found that she opened up more as well. Something about the three of them clicked, and did so perfectly. Rachel's mood was simply too buoyant to let her sleep when she stepped out of the shower, so she lay down on the couch to read until her eyes felt heavy. The novel was a recommendation from a colleague at work, and Rachel quickly discovered that the romance was far steamier than what she was used to. Growing more aroused with every passing minute, Rachel continued to read — completely defeating the reason for picking up the book in the first place. Her sex tingled and her nipples pressed against the thin cotton of her nightgown, prompting her to touch those intimate places on occasion to calm the fires building within her. Eventually, Rachel looked up at the clock and realized the lateness of the hour. She started in surprise and snapped the book shut with a self-depreciating chuckle, embarrassed to have let the erotic novel draw her in so completely. Just as she sat up to seek her bed, a whimpering sound caused her to cock her ear and listen. Rachel's cheeks burned when she realized what the sound was. She recognized the distinct quality of Mika's voice in the whimpers of pleasure, which mingled with the creaking of the couple's bed, and Chaytan's vocalizations. Unconsciously, Rachel's hearing tuned in to the sounds, fanning the cooling coals of arousal that the novel had spawned within her. The building volume and intensity of the couple's lovemaking signaled that they were nearing a crescendo. Rachel only snapped out of her heated trance when both Mika and Chaytan cried out in apparently simultaneous climax. Rachel shuddered from the chilling jolt shooting through her that accompanied those cries, and almost immediately stood up. The air swirling around her as she crossed the hardwood floor to her bedroom left a chilly spot between her legs — evidence of a damp spot on her panties. Once she closed her bedroom door, the chuckles and squeals that continued to sound from the bedroom on the other side of the house were no longer audible. Her body demanded attention, but Rachel felt self-conscious about surrendering to that call. Weariness finally took hold of her, and she drifted off to sleep, her body still aching. ♠~~ΘΘ~~φ~~ΘΘ~~♠ The next morning, Rachel heard a knock on the door adjoining the two sides of the home just as she was about to leave for work. Only recently awakened and caffeinated, the image of Mika in a clinging nightgown merged directly into Rachel's memories of the sounds from the night before — and the dreams that had followed. Mika said, "I'm glad I caught you. I forgot to add pumpkin to the list that I gave Chaytan. Do you think you could pick some up?" "Of course," Rachel answered, glad that her work attire hid the evidence of her rapidly stiffening nipples. "How many cans?" "Four I suppose. I'll either have enough to bake another pie later, or enough to save myself if I burn the first one," Mika answered with a laugh. "I'll see you this afternoon, then," Rachel said as she draped her purse over her shoulder. Mika waved and turned, revealing that her nightgown hugged the curves of her backside just as snugly as it did her small, firm breasts. It took Rachel most of her commute to fight down the beautiful image in her mind, and the embarrassing arousal that came with it. Little did she know that it was only a prelude of things to come. A slow day at the office allowed Rachel to leave earlier than expected. Even the stops at three grocery stores to locate pumpkin so close to Thanksgiving put her back in the driveway more than an hour early. The door between the two halves of the house was open, which didn't surprise Rachel. Mika had mentioned that she probably would do so at times to help balance the temperature, due to a shortage of vents on Rachel's side of the house. What Rachel saw when she peeked through the doorway with her sack of pumpkin in hand did surprise her. Apparently engrossed in her phone call, Mika didn't notice Rachel frozen in the doorway with a wide-eyed stare. Mika wore nothing but a sheer pair of pearly white panties and a matching bra. The dark cascade of the native woman's hair and her light, reddish-brown skin formed an eye-catching contrast to the bright material of the undergarments. Even from across the room, Rachel could easily see the prominent points of Mika's dark nipples, and the silhouette of her curl-adorned sex. "I know. I've never had an orgasm like that," Mika said to her husband on the other end of the phone. She then let out a purring moan and added, "I wish it could be real, instead of just a fantasy. I'm going to ravish you again tonight — you know? I already had to use my vibrator twice today." Rachel's face burned from a combination of overhearing the conversation and her own reaction to it. Her thoughts raced to her own vibrator, safely secreted in the small chest of drawers next to her bed. "I'll see you in a couple of hours, then," Mika said, indicating that she was about to hang up. Rachel snapped out of her trance and quickly stepped out of the doorway, her heart racing. A minute later, she heard the distinctive, short creak that the couple's bathroom door emitted when someone opened it. Rachel took several deep breaths and clenched her intimate muscles, slowly squelching the shameful flame of desire within her. ♠~~ΘΘ~~φ~~ΘΘ~~♠ Thanksgiving morning found Rachel and Mika hard at work in the kitchen. Chaytan tried to help at first, but quickly discovered that he was only in the way. His wife shooed him to the television so that she could learn the mysteries of a successful Thanksgiving dinner. Rachel, having held this task since her early teens, proceeded with effortless efficiency. She started every dish at exactly the right moment to have everything come out either piping hot or properly chilled at the same time. The boon of having two stoves, ranges, and microwaves in the house made the effort easier than ever before, providing ample opportunity for Rachel to explain exactly what she was doing. Chaytan found his place to help when the time arrived to set the table. Though the women had purposely scaled back most of the recipes, the table still groaned with food by the time the three of them sat down to eat and share in each other's company. ♠~~ΘΘ~~φ~~ΘΘ~~♠ Rachel put down her spoon with a sigh and leaned back in her chair. "No pie for me just yet." "Me either," Chaytan declared. "The two of you are a marvel. Everything was perfect." Mika positively beamed from the praise and took her husband's hand. "Our first real Thanksgiving dinner." He smiled and leaned in to kiss her. Once their lips parted, Mika turned to Rachel and said, "Thank you for making it possible." "I couldn't have done it without your help," Rachel countered. "But, you're welcome." The three continued to chat for nearly an hour, and then reluctantly abandoned their chairs with groans of overstuffed protest to clean up. With everything put away and the first load of dishes in the dishwasher, Chaytan's eyes started darting toward the clock on the wall on a regular basis. Mika laughed. "Go — watch your precious football." She then dropped her mock sarcastic tone and said, "You've earned a day to be lazy," before giving him a kiss. Chaytan hurried to his chair, only pausing long enough to grab a beer from the refrigerator. Mika suggested, "There's a good movie on Lifetime," and pulled out two wine glasses from a cupboard. The thought of relaxing with a glass of wine was hardly unappealing to Rachel, so the two women adjourned to her side of the house, bottle and glasses in hand. The bustle of preparing the meal had kept Rachel's mind centered, but she quickly discovered that her unwelcome — and potentially disastrous — attraction to Mika resurfaced with a vengeance as the two sat sipping wine. Mika sat with her long, shapely legs pulled up on the couch, seemingly begging for Rachel to caress them. Rachel did her best to concentrate on the movie, and drank a little more wine than she probably should have. She discovered this upon rising to go to the bathroom and promptly losing her balance. If anything, the embarrassment of her stumble was a welcome relief from the turmoil of suppressed desire within her. Thricegiving Mika turned toward her as Rachel returned from the bathroom. "I think I may be a little tipsy, too," she said with a laugh as she poured more wine. When she attempted to sit the bottle back on the table, it slipped from her hand. She managed to catch it with a little yelp of alarm, but sloshed wine from her glass all over her blouse in the process. "Oh no, oh no, oh no," she exclaimed, quickly putting down her glass and looking with alarm at the red wine stain. Rachel knew exactly how to come to the rescue. "I found something on the internet that is a miracle on red wine stains." "I hope it works," Mika lamented, "I love this blouse. I'll be in the bathroom." Rachel hurried to the kitchen to fetch the dishwashing soap. The other half of the magical potion was already in the bathroom — hydrogen peroxide. She stepped into the bathroom just in time to see Mika remove her stained bra. Caught off guard, Rachel couldn't help but drink in the sight. Mika's breasts were perfect teardrops, culminating in tips of chestnut brown. Thankfully for Rachel, Mika was too busy laying out the garments flat to notice her stunned boarder standing in the doorway, holding her breath. Rachel continued into the bathroom, knowing that she had little choice but to face the temptation now. Purposely keeping her eyes away from the enticing sight of Mika's bared breasts, Rachel opened the medicine cabinet and took down the peroxide. "It's mostly peroxide, with a touch of dishwashing soap," she explained as she opened the bottle. Mika watched as Rachel carefully poured the peroxide over the blouse, and then worked in the dishwashing soap with a washcloth. The stain faded as if by magic with every pass of the cloth, causing Mika to emit a sigh of relief. She picked up the peroxide and a second washcloth to work on her bra. Oh god, Rachel thought as the woman at her side moved the washcloth in slow circles. The motion caused Mika's breasts to jiggle hypnotically, threatening to attract Rachel's eyes like a magnet. Try as she might, she couldn't keep her eyes from flashing toward the beautiful sight. "It's like a magic potion," Mika remarked as she glanced over to see that the stain on her blouse was almost invisible. "It's saved my life a couple of times since I found it," Rachel responded as she put down the cloth. Mika put down her cloth as well, since her blouse had soaked up most of the wine, leaving only a small, faint stain on her bra — now gone. Again, Mika sighed in relief and turned to Rachel to say, "Thank you." She then reached out her arm, and Rachel's heart skipped a beat when the beautiful native woman hugged her. Rachel's hand moved to Mika's bare back, the feeling of soft skin beneath her fingertips sending chills racing throughout her body. Mika moved closer, wrapping her other arm around Rachel, and the blonde followed her friend's lead. The hug lingered, so wonderful and frightening to Rachel at the same time. She could feel the warm kiss of Mika's breath on her neck, and an almost electric tingle where her breasts touched Mika's smaller ones. Mika let out a small, almost inaudible moan, and one of her hands slipped lower, to the small of Rachel's back. Unconsciously, Rachel caressed her hands over Mika's back, her breathing quickening. Then, she gasped and shuddered as Mika's hand slipped even lower, gliding over her bottom. Both women pulled back at the same time, but didn't lose contact with the other. Their eyes met, and they knew. Mika's liquid brown eyes and Rachel's bright blue ones were both filled with desire. "I..." Rachel began, but could find no more words. Her fingers continued to caress Mika's back. "Have you ever...?" Mika had little more luck framing her thoughts into words as she remained locked in Rachel's eyes. Rachel shook her head almost imperceptibly. "Have you?" She asked, her voice still soft, with a breathless quality. "No. It always frightened me until Chaytan coaxed the fantasy from me." "How did he react?" Mika shivered, her eyes fluttering closed for a second. When she opened them again, her eyes glowed with even stronger desire. "He asked what I thought about you. We've never had such incredible sex." Rachel gasped, unable to resist the reaction in light of Mika's words and the smoldering need in the woman's brown eyes. One of Mika's hands moved from Rachel's back, directly to the blonde's right breast. In a soft, irresistibly sensual voice, she said, "I want it to be real." That touch burned through Rachel's shame, fanning her own desire into a roaring bonfire. Her hand found Mika's breast, to caress the firm globe even as Mika did the same. A quiet moan escaped Rachel as a smile spread across Mika's face, and she reached for the top button of the blonde's blouse. Her breathing heavy with excitement, Rachel worked on the buttons at the bottom, until the two met in the middle. Rachel had no more than shrugged off the blouse before Mika deftly popped the clasp on Rachael's bra. Mika slipped first one, then the other strap from Rachel's shoulders, and the concealing cloth slid away. Mika teased the blonde's stiff nipples with her fingertips, and then pulled Rachel into a kiss. "Who wants some pie?" Though both women heard him, Chaytan's words were lost in the passion of their embrace. Only when their lips parted did the pair turn to see him standing with a tray — and a wide-eyed expression of surprised awe. Mika and Rachel shared a laugh tinged with both amusement and embarrassment. Mika then beckoned her husband to them with a crooked finger. His eyes roved back and forth between his wife and the blonde at her side as he approached, the tray of pumpkin pie slices still balanced on his palm. Mika cupped Rachel's right breast in her hand when her husband reached them. "Aren't they beautiful, Chaytan?" "Very," he agreed, mesmerized by the sight of his beautiful wife touching another woman. Mika took the tray from her husband and sat it down on the sink. A crooked grin spread across her face as she dipped her finger in the whipped cream atop one slice of pie. She brought her finger to Rachel's lips, and the blonde sucked it clean with a little moan. Rachel mimed Mika's action, shuddering when the native woman's tongue curled around her finger to lick it clean. Mika then glided her fingers down Rachel's arm, and guided her hand toward Chaytan. Chaytan groaned, and Rachel gasped as she felt his hardening manhood beneath his jeans. Even as she squeezed it, Mika reached for the button of her husband's jeans. Rachel's eyes widened as Mika unzipped her husband's pants, revealing the length and breadth of his cock, well outlined by his boxer shorts. That final obstacle soon vanished with a quick tug of Mika's fingers. Rachel stroked her fingers over his cock, teasing the arrowhead shaped tip. Mika dipped her fingers into the whipped cream again, but this time, she placed the dollop on the swollen head of her husband's cock. "Taste it," she whispered to Rachel. Rachel sank to her knees, her eyes locked on his twitching manhood. She leaned forward and her tongue snaked out to lap up the cream. Mika's excited moan encouraged Rachel, and she suckled Chaytan's tip between her lips. She stroked her lips over his shaft, the sharp tang of pre-cum mingling with the sweet cream in her mouth. "Does it feel good?" Mika asked. "Oh yes," Chaytan breathed in response while caressing Rachel's shoulders. Rachel grew bolder with her steadily increasing arousal, taking more of Chaytan's cock in her mouth with every stroke. Mika knelt next to her and cupped Chaytan's dangling orbs in her hand, never taking her eyes off of the sight of his cock vanishing into Rachel's eager mouth. When Rachel released him to catch her breath and rest her aching jaw, Mika took over. Rachel watched with the same fascination as her friend took Chaytan fast and deep into her mouth. Mika's long, dark hair rippled in waves from her efforts, which drew a long groan from her husband. Rachel's fingers found her aching sex beneath her panties as she watched Mika bring her husband ever closer to climax. Mika released Chaytan's tip with a wet pop and said, "He's close." "So close," Chaytan agreed in clipped grunts. "Do you want to taste him?" Rachel emphatically nodded and then engulfed Chaytan's stiff organ. He emitted a growling gasp as she sucked him hard, eager to feel him explode in her mouth. "Come for her, Chaytan," Mika sensually breathed as Rachel's blonde hair whipped from the fast strokes of her mouth. "Almost," Chaytan groaned, and Rachel looked up to see his expression tighten. A moment later, he cried out and filled her mouth with cream. Rachel let out a surprised moan around him as he filled her mouth full. She continued to suck, swallowing his seed and feeling it settle warmly in her belly. All the while, Mika moaned encouragement, licking her lips. Chaytan pushed the blonde away when he could no longer endure her mouth on him, and Mika almost immediately sought Rachel's lips. The two women kissed, sharing his cum between them, their hands roaming over each other's bodies. Chaytan leaned heavily against the bathroom wall, his knees weak from his orgasm and the sight of his wife kissing Rachel, tasting his cum on her lips. When their lips parted, Mika looked deep into Rachel's eyes and said, "I... I want to taste you." Rachel sucked in a great, shuddering breath, finding it almost impossible to believe that this wasn't a dream. She felt none of the shame that had haunted her for years, only an ache in her loins that none but Mika could assuage. "Please," she pleaded, the feeling overwhelming her. Mika stood and took Rachel's hand, silently instructing her to do the same. Once Rachel regained her feet, Mika tugged on her husband's hand and walked between the two, turning toward the bedroom. Rachel followed as though entranced, while Chaytan walked a little slower, his legs still threatening to betray him. Mika turned when she reached the bed and dropped her skirt to the floor. Rachel could see a damp spot on her friend's panties, and let out a gasp when the cloth slipped away to reveal the dark, curl-adorned source of that wetness. Chaytan sat down on the bed as his wife stepped forward to pull down Rachel's skirt. Dampness adorned the blonde's panties as well, but they covered her no longer than Mika's undergarments had. Rachel felt the cold kiss of the air against her hot, bare sex, causing her to shiver. Mika slipped into the bed, and Rachel crawled in after her. The two women kissed once more, both slipping a hand between the legs of the other. Rachel whimpered into the kiss and Mika moaned as the two explored each other's sex. Mika guided Rachel to lie down, her cheeks flushed and her eyes aglow. Rachel parted her legs when Mika touched her knees, both excited and frightened by the new experience at the same time. The first touch of Mika's tongue was hesitant — feather-light. A warbling, high-pitched moan bubbled from Rachel's lips as she watched the dark-haired woman tease her with the tip of her tongue. Even as Mika grew bolder, slipping her tongue between Rachel's bare-shaven nether lips, Chaytan moved on the bed. Rachel groaned as Chaytan suckled her left nipple between his lips. A fog of unbelievable pleasure enveloped her, brought on by the eager lips and tongues of the couple. Rachel writhed and whimpered as Mika's tongue glided and probed her wet heat. She barely noticed when Chaytan released her nipple to attain a better view of his wife lapping another woman for the first time. A hot itch steadily built in her depths, an orgasm begging for release. "Oh please, don't stop," she begged. Mika moaned in response and closed her lips over Rachel's clit. Rachel cried out and grasped her breasts as the shockwave of pleasure rippled through her body. The previously soft caress of Mika's tongue grew more ardent, sharpening Rachel's pleasure to a knife edge. She perched on the brink of climax, trapped in the moment until she thought it would drive her mad. Rachel's orgasm took her without warning. She wasn't even aware that the loud scream she heard was her own until it had nearly died away and she sucked in a fast breath for another. Rachel's body quaked as Mika rode the blonde's bucking hips, still lapping for the bittersweet flow of her juices. Wave after wave of orgasm rocked Rachel until Mika relented, allowing the blonde to settle down from her incredible climax. When she managed to force her eyes open, Rachel saw Chaytan sharing the taste of her in a kiss. Rachel continued to gasp and twitch as the couple then kissed her in turn. The sight of Mika teasing her folds while Chaytan sucked his wife's nipples slowly pulled Rachel in as her orgasm settled into a warm afterglow. Mika's dark curls called to her. When Rachel sat up, her eyes intent upon Mika's sex, Mika let out a gasp and reclined on the bed. Before she could even consciously form the thought, Rachel slipped between her friend's legs and smoothed back the manicured curls. Rachel's first taste of another woman nearly made her swoon. The scent and taste intoxicated her, and she had to fight against blackness at the edge of her vision for a moment. When she managed the feeling, her tongue slipped in deeper. Despite never having done it before, Rachel's tongue soon pushed Mika toward climax. Rachel knew what made her feel good, and she did her best to emulate it as she lapped Mika's folds. Her own sex tingled with renewed wetness, her clit throbbing in time with her heartbeat. Drunk on the fulfillment of her suppressed desires, Rachel lapped the dark-haired woman with wild abandon. Mika's thighs clamped tight around Rachel's ears as the native woman came. An even more abundant, flavorful rush of juices washed over Rachel's tongue, driving her to lap for more. Mika trembled and lurched, crying out her pleasure to the roof above. Excited beyond measure by the taste of Mika's wetness and the feeling of the woman climaxing on her tongue, Rachel kept lapping. She only relented when the woman's hips lurched away and Mika covered her quivering sex with both hands, unable to endure any more. Rachel breathed heavily and moaned as she licked her lips and pulled Mika's juices from her chin to her mouth. Chaytan leaned over his wife to kiss her, giving Rachel a good look at his cock, once more standing away from his body at full erection. Though still twitching from her climax, Mika gasped when she saw her husband's hardness as well. "Take me," she breathed, tugging on his arms to encourage him to move atop her. As Chaytan moved between his wife's parted legs, Rachel acted on impulse. She grasped his stiff member and guided it to Mika's folds, coating the tip in wetness before wriggling it between the dark-haired woman's nether lips. Mika let out a high-pitched groan as Chaytan penetrated her. Rachel watched him vanish inside his wife, an aching void in her own depths screaming for attention. She fought against her own needs, instead turning her fingers to Mika's. Mika squealed with delight as Rachel's fingers found her bud. Her eyes intent upon Chaytan's cock thrusting into Mika's depths, the touch on Rachel's foot caused her to start. She turned to look, seeing the pleasure in Mika's face — and something more. Mika tugged on Rachel's ankle, pulling it toward her. With a gasp, Rachel followed the dark haired woman's silent instructions and straddled her body. Mika pulled Rachel's sex to her lips and curled her arms around the back of the blonde's legs. Rachel kept her fingers moving despite her own mounting pleasure, driving Mika closer to the edge. The rocking motion of Chaytan's thrusts only added to the pleasure that Mika's questing tongue awakened within Rachel. Rachel yelped as Mika's lips released her folds, followed by a hot blast of air as the native woman squealed. Mika's fingers dug into Rachel's legs as she reached the point of no-return on her husband's cock and the blonde's flashing fingers. "Oh! Oh! Oh yes!" Mika cried out, and then screamed into Rachel's folds as she came. Her back arched up from the bed, pressing her breasts against Rachel's body and the blonde's firm globes against her. The sudden motion caused Chaytan to slip free of his wife's depths, and he took the opportunity to quell his own approaching climax. The ache in Rachel's depths intensified as she stared at Chaytan's cock, twitching only inches away from her face. A thick, creamy coating of Mika's juices covered him, and he breathed heavily as he tried to keep his own cream from erupting. Once Mika released her from the tight grip of her fingers, Rachel lifted a knee and moved to give the panting woman some air. She slipped two fingers deep inside her as she knelt next to her quivering friend, unable to endure her own needs any longer. Mika's eyes opened and she moaned upon seeing her husband drinking in both of the women before him. "Do..." She began, but a wave of orgasmic energy stole her breath for a moment. "Do you want to be inside her?" Chaytan nodded, and Rachel let out a gasp. Rachel let her moist fingers slide from inside her and sat back on her bottom. "Please," she begged, needing far more than her fingers could possibly offer. After a couple of false starts, Mika managed to move over enough to allow Rachel to lie back and part her legs. Chaytan moved forward and pressed his swollen member against Rachel's folds. Rachel squealed as he penetrated her, his long, thick cock putting any other that had entered her to shame. She felt as though he was reaching into her belly, stretching her beyond belief. Her walls clenched around him, letting her feel every throb of his cock buried inside her. Rachel gasped with every withdrawal and yelped with every thrust as Chaytan settled into a rhythm. Mika moved into a comfortable position to reach the blonde's swollen bud, adding to Rachel's ecstasy. Rachel lifted her head, enthralled by the contrast of Mika's fingers and Chaytan's thrusting cock against her fair skin. She could see the strain in Chaytan's face, and knew he fought against release with every ounce of his will. "Come for him," Mika breathed, her fingers moving even faster. Rachel's head lashed back and forth on the mattress as her pleasure mounted, her breasts bouncing almost painfully from the power of his thrusts. Loud smacks accompanied the clashing of his body with hers, mingling with her cries of pleasure and his grunts of exertion. A long, loud groan rumbled from Chaytan's throat as he lost control. He thrust even harder, actually causing Rachel to slide across the bed a fraction of an inch with every thrust. Her orgasm claimed her in a white-hot burst just before Chaytan's hips slammed forward a final time and he let out a growling scream. Rachel could feel him pulsing in her tightly clenched canal, filling her full of his hot cream. His head lolled backward, and then snapped forward as he continued to flood her depths. Rachel squealed as every tiny movement of his cock inside her triggered another jolt of orgasmic electricity that raced throughout her body. He fell forward on his hands above her once he spent his seed, to gasp and lurch as her walls rhythmically contracted around him. After what felt like a heavenly eternity to Rachel, Chaytan pulled free of her clinging depths, trailing a strand of their mingled juices from her nether lips to the tip of his softening cock. He collapsed heavily to the bed, having expended every ounce of energy in his explosion. Rachel could feel his hot cream leaking from her to the bed below, but she didn't care in the slightest. She chuckled as Mika snuggled up next to her and moaned before saying, "I loved that. How about you?" Thricegiving "Mmm hmm," Rachel moaned, and then quivered from an aftershock. Mika levered up on her arms and kissed Rachel, a soft kiss that still conveyed passion and need. She then smiled down at her blonde boarder and said, "Happy Thanksgiving." "Mmm — very happy Thanksgiving," Rachel responded. Chaytan mumbled something that sounded as though he was echoing the greeting, but his face pressed down in the mattress muffled it, prompting the two women sharing the bed with him to break out into laughter. Rachel floated in post-orgasmic bliss between her landlords — turned friends and lovers — thinking that she couldn't think of a better way to celebrate the holiday. ♠~~ΘΘ~~φ~~ΘΘ~~♠ Three years later... Mika smiled so wide that her cheeks ached, as she always did when she looked at her son. Now one year old, he somehow had her eyes despite the impossibility of such a thing. Once Rachel's fertilized egg had been implanted in her womb, Mika had marveled at her child growing inside her. She had an easy pregnancy, as though a reward for the years of trying, and the heartache of failure. Mika turned away from her son and chided, "Oh no — you sit down this instant." "I'm fine," Rachel protested with a pout as she stirred the noodles on the stove while supporting her heavy belly with her other arm. "You're due any day now," Mika argued. "It's my turn to take over — at least for this year." A sharp kick from within her womb almost caused Rachel to drop the spoon. Once the flash of discomfort passed, she smiled and her face positively glowed. "This one seems to be agreeing with you." "And so do I," Chaytan said as he walked into the kitchen. He reached out to stroke Rachel's tummy with a wide smile when he reached her. Mika joined her husband, and then kissed both he and Rachel in turn. "Now scoot. You're in my way." Rachel let Chaytan assist her steps as she waddled into the front room, her motherly glow a sign of the many blessings that the three shared — and the many blessings to come. ♠~~ΘΘ~~φ~~ΘΘ~~♠ Hope you've enjoyed this holiday tale. Please take a moment to vote, and perhaps comment, to let me know what you think. In fact, read and vote on as many contest stories as you can. Now is a good time to start, because the list is small so far. 25 votes are needed to qualify, so help the authors entering the contest out with your coin in their hat. Thrift Store Sissy A story by wendi marie st.clair She was looking at girl's blouses the first time He saw her. Of course, most of the world wouldn't have seen her as a "she" at the moment, but wearing her flare-leg, hip-hugging jeans that were obviously from the junior miss department and the androgynous purple t-shirt that showed that she shaved her body, she looked like a "she" to Him. Everyone else would have seen a twink; a very flamboyant, faggy, gay guy, but He knew better. He knew because He could see that He was there at the thrift store to do the exact same thing. She was shopping for girly clothes, and so was He. He felt that he was about smack in the middle of the touted "gender continuum," but He could see that she was way towards the female end of the spectrum in spite of the body Providence gave her. He casually watched her looking and picking through the racks as He did the same. He kept drawing nearer and nearer to her and sensed her discomfort because of it. He was sure she just wanted to be left alone as she shopped, feeling like a freak as the rest of the vanilla world flowed around her. He was sure He was about to chase her away as He approached. His mind was spinning with a way to break the huge layer of awkward and slippery ice. He knew He had to do something now before she made a subtle bolt to the exit. "Hi, sweetheart," He blurted, feeling like an idiot. He thought that if His shadowing her had been off-putting, then coming right up to her with a pathetic line like some mook would surely run her off forever. She met him with a stricken, deer-in-the-headlights look in her green eyes, but there was a glimmer of hope that maybe she had been approached by someone who understood and accepted her at least in part. "Hello," she said, with her lips turning up into a thin, self-conscious smile. He smiled and showed her a couple of skirts draped over His arm and said, "Looks like we shop for the same types of things here!" The look in the girls eyes was just like a sunrise. "Yes, i think we do!" she said. After that, it would not do but that they would shop together - not only there, but at a couple of other stores until He talked her into going to a local pub that had an accepting staff and clientele. They ordered their drinks and sat down for a little small talk at a table off of the small dance floor. She had been checking Him out all day. He was handsome as a Man, and she thought He would also cut an excellent figure when draped in elegant lines and silky material. He also enjoyed being with her all day. He found her very attractive and had an intuitive intelligence that he enjoyed. It became well established in His mind through the course of the afternoon that she was naturally submissive and demure, always respectful when making a suggestion as to colors that suited Him or the fit of a certain garment. He found that He wanted to woo and possess her; to make her His own. She told Him that she was in town for business and was working during the day, but was staying overnight to just enjoy her femme self. After more small talk, they decided that they might go back to the room she had to try on what they scored in the shops around the city. When they arrived, she begged leave to go to the bathroom to freshen up and put on her makeup. She turned on the television for Him and got Him a drink out of the little fridge. After making sure He was comfortable, she turned to the back of the room, giving him a coquettish smile. As she made sure she was all prepared for whatever may happen, she was giddy in thought about the soul in the room with her. She could feel the presence of both His femme and masculine sides. It did a wonderful job of bringing warmth to a smoothly Dominant personality. She wondered what would happen and found herself berating herself as a trollop speculating on what He might do - and what she would let Him do. He was able to watch her across the room as she concentrated on the mirror, applying base, then contouring and eye makeup. Her actions were so naturally feminine, He wondered why anyone would think of her as anything but a woman. He had forgotten the TV as he slowly made His way to the corner of the bed and just watched her. "You know, sissy, there is no way in the world that I could ever see you as a man." He said. It caught her short, and she stopped applying the mascara to just look at Him, her eyes seeming bigger because of the eyeliner. "No one has ever called me that before without making it a vile insult." She said, "I can tell that You didn't mean it as an insult. You called me that because it is what i am." "Yes," He said. "Why can you not say it, sissy?" "Say what?" "Sissy; I called you sissy, but you didn't say the word at all. I want you to say it." "Why? "She asked. "Because you need to; you need to acknowledge this to someone out loud. Say it. What are you, sweetheart?" "A...sissy," she said, diffidently. "You are a what?" "A sissy." She said, again, but still sounded tentative. "There is nothing wrong with you." he told her. "This is a part of who you are. I haven't treated you like a man all day. It doesn't mean I don't respect you, I just have a different kind of respect. To me, a sissy is one of the most beautiful things on the earth, and you are beautiful for a sissy. So, tell me now, with confidence. What are you?" "A sissy," she said, grinning shyly. "Better, sweetheart, now let me watch you finish making yourself pretty for me." When she was done, she was a vision of sex in little black patent leather heels, thigh high stockings held up by garters that hung from the black corset. A little black lace pair of panties covered a small "boi clitty." Her face was pretty with ruby red lipstick matching the lacquered toenails that peeked out of the peep-toe heels. Topping it all off was a pretty mane of brown hair in a wig that matched her natural hair color. He was very aroused at the sight and wanted to kiss her. He approached to do just that when she laid her hand daintily on His chest and said, "Your turn!" It was now His turn to be a bit taken aback. He had not actually given that much thought into slipping into his femme side this evening, but he had plenty of brand new things to wear and had brought a little bit of lingerie to wear underneath it. "Come on," she cajoled, "Let Her out tonight! I dressed for You, and I love it...because I am a sissy. I know you are not. You are - I don't know - something else, but You can express Yourself here. Let me make You up and bring out the Woman inside You." He knew He was about to do this; to actually get dressed en-femme in front of somebody who accepted Him as a Dom/Domme whether she actually knew it or not. His clothing wasn't going to affect how this sissy saw Him. He went into the bathroom and slipped on a pretty lace racerback bra in black and some matching panties. She passed him some clothes through the door as outerwear. It was a black sheath dress that somehow managed to make him seem both pretty and strong with the cap sleeves and the found neckline. The skirt of the dress had a bit of a swing to it. He stepped out of the bathroom to sit in a chair she had pulled out for him so she could do Her face. The base wasn't quite right, she said, but she added that they could shop for her some makeup sometime. She concentrated as she did eye makeup and contouring. The Domme noticed how the sissy's movements were naturally dainty and super feminine as she deftly applied makeup. She had thought She was aroused looking at the sissy before, but it was nothing compared to standing before her in a dress and lingerie. The sissy was standing there with her hands arranged in a fig leaf, her eyes downcast. She had fully dressed the Domme while the sissy had remained in lingerie. She wondered if the sissy even noticed she did that, naturally submissive as she was. The Domme looked in the mirror. "Very good job, sweetheart, but you are right that the base was not quite right. I know it's not your fault, but I'm afraid I will have to punish you anyway." The sissy looked up again with that deer-in-the-headlights look again. "What did you think would happen when you brought me here, sissy?" the Domme said, not unkindly. The sissy cast her eyes back downward in submissive acceptance. The Domme make her elegant way over to the foot of the bed and beckoned to the sissy. "Come here, little one, over my knees," she ordered. The sissy didn't meet her Dommes eyes as she sashayed her way over to the elegant Woman. She arranged her body to drape across the legs of the Domme and waited in breathless anticipation. I t started with caresses. Dominant hands stroking and exploring smooth, nylon covered legs and lace covered derriere. The Dominant made an approving noise when she found that the little knickers had a slit in them that exposed the sissy's delicate opening. The stroking and caressed continued. It lasted longer than the sissy had thought it would. It turned into an agony of anticipation as she wondered in her mind: would She be rough and cruel? Would it hurt? Would She make her cry? Did she want Her to? The smack of hand against soft, smooth flesh was unbelievably loud in the quiet room. The sissy's whole body jolted more in surprise than pain. So began a litany of tush-reddening blows from the bare hand of her Domme. The Domme built the intensity up slowly until the sissy was whimpering through clenched teeth. Again and again the tireless hand found the receptive buns until the Domme stopped abruptly, nudging the sissy off. "On your knees, sweetheart," the Domme ordered, raising the skirt of the dress, "You know how to thank me for your spanking, honey." The sissy did , indeed know how to thank her Domme. She was panting with a new anticipation as the sissy reached with trambling fingers to the now distended front of the panties. The Domme's shaft sprung into her face as she moved the barrier keeping the majestic flesh from her ruby lips. The sissy looked up into Dominant eyes as she opened up her warm, receptive mouth, engulfing the phallus, all the way down to the massive balls - on her knees...in her proper place. The sissy's eyes closed in pleasure as the Domme placed Her hand at the back of the sissy's head. The Domme was so aroused that she had to be careful not to cum too quickly, so She would have to force the sissy to give a very deep and very slow blowjob. The sissy was totally at peace. The smooth hardness that filled her mouth and throat made her feel somehow full and complete; like she was finally fulfilling her purpose and occupying her rightful place. Presently, she felt the Domme's hands move her and urge her to move and work her mouth slowly. She could feel that her lipstick was smearing on the tasty phallus as she undertook her ministrations, being fed the imposing body of a Dominant Woman. The Dominant saw a little bottle of lube in the sissy's handbag and brought it out, noting that there was a sizeable butt plug beside it. The sissy heard the unmistakeable click of the tube of smooth lubricant as she served there on her knees. She felt the Domme bend and using her strong fingers to apply some of the lube to her sweet little pucker nestled between here smooth globes. The sissy continued her slow, deep sucking, as she had not been told to stop. Serving this elegant woman simply felt too wonderful to stop. Soon, the Domme gently withdrew her phallus and ordered the sissy onto the bed on her hands and knees. It was finally time, the sissy thought as she tried to present herself as sexily as possible, arching her back and putting her little tushy up like a cat. There was warmth at the opening of her puckered portal. She concentrated on relaxing and submitting to the Dominant rod pushing slowly into her. She whimpered and moaned as she stretched around the invading tool. The Domme watched the perfect circle of the sissy's anus goggle down Her shaft time after time as She worked it slowly in and out of her in an unhurried way. She had already triumphed and was claiming her prize now. There was no need of great haste. The whimpering submissive had laid her face down on the matress and was sucking her thumb in an adorable jesture as she was being smoothly sodomised. Her long lashes winked elegantly like butterfly wings as she winced with the invasive motion of the shaft. The Domme had a knowing look upon Her face. The sissy was Hers, body and soul. Even if she went off of her little rocker and decided to try to act like a man again, this Domme could look into her eyes, and both would know that the Domme could describe the feel of her tonsils on the head of Her shaft, and the warmth of her accommodating bowels. Soon, Her potent seed would be swimming around inside the precious sissy. This was permanent in a very real way. The Domme pulled out and rearranged her sissy on her back. She placed the sissy's heeled and stockinged ankles on Her shoulders and plunged the phallus back into the sissy's receptive and tight orifice. Once the head breached the ring, it seemed like her canal actually sucked the Domme inside, hugging the shaft with gratitude as she began a faster piston like movement, slapping her front against the delicate cheeks and thighs of the submissive. The sissy writhed and moaned whimpering sweet nothing and encouragement as the Domme took Her pleasure. This charge of seed had been welling within for far too long and put immense pressure on her super hard phallus as She was slamming into the poor sissy's yielding flesh. Their eyes locked as the sissy whimpered and the Domme roared, it seemed like gallons of virile semen pumped into warm, tight heaven as the sissy took the seed of her Domme deep into her smooth body. "Oh, right in your pretty sissy ASS!" the Domme said between teeth clenched in exquisite pleasure and triumph. "Yes!" the sissy replied, happy in her own way to accept the life giving fluid from her Domme. They lay locked together like that for a long time as the both re-learned how to breathe, their hearts beating a rhythm they could both feel at the point of their joining. Eventually, the Domme had her sissy get back into the position, with her face on the matress, propped up on her knees, sissy ass high in the air. She slipped the butt plug from the sissy's handbag into her delicate, receptive ass, watching as the tight hole swallowed the bulb and tightened against the neck, pulling it deep inside. "Honey," said the Domme, "I want this to stay in all night. I want me swimming around in you trying to breed your sissy body for as long as my seed can." "Yes, Ma'am," the sissy replied with a smile. After washing Her face and replacing Her dress and lingerie with Her Man clothes, the Dom gave the sissy a kiss. He tucked the sissy in and sat on the side of the bed, caressing her smooth body and talking for a while before He had to leave. "Sweet dreams, little one," the Dom said, "you will be in My care next time." "Yes, sir," the sleepy, becalmed sissy replied. Thrill and Adventure There's nothing like a little adventure on a slow boring night or even on a fast paced full of life night. Adventure, action, entertainment, enjoyment, and of course pleasure all go hand in hand. Like putting on a short skirt and a tight little top and walking out where people are looking at you. I have always loved the thrill of being watched, wanted, or even lusted after. When I walk down a street or into a store and some guy or even a girl stare at me a little harder or longer than normal it gives me a big thrill. I remember one time I went into a lingerie shop and there was this young girl, she couldn't have been more than eighteen or nineteen, stocking the racks and she kept staring at me really hard. She wouldn't look me in the eyes but she was looking at every thing else of me. I walked over by her pretending to look at some G-string underwear that was see-through. I caught her eye, smiled at her and said Hi; she just blushed and looked away. She walked away and started stocking some stuff next to the changing rooms so I picked up a pair of the underwear and a matching see-through bra and went into a changing room that was farthest back. I tried on the set and it looked pretty good on me and you could see my nipples and my clit, which were standing at attention. I leaned my head out of the small room and she had moved a little closer to my room, probably to try and sneak a peak, and I asked her if she could help me. She looked a little confused but did manage a smile and came towards me and asked what she could do for me. When she got in front of me I told her I needed her opinion on what my outfit looked like. She blushed and said that she didn't think that was something she could do although she kept eyeing my shoulder that appeared to only have a bra on because of the strap. I tried to give her my best pouty face sticking my bottom lip out and said that I really needed her opinion or I just wasn't going to be able to buy anything cause it all made me look fat anyway. She shook her head and said that I was not fat, and then she looked around to see that no one was around and said okay but she had to stand at the door so no one saw me. I smiled opening the door staying behind it as she walked just inside the door. She just stopped and I knew it was because she could see my reflection in the mirror behind me that gave a real good view of my ass with just a little black string going up. Before she could walk away or say anything I closed the door giving her the full view of my breast and pussy practically naked. She started to turn away to leave so I stepped up between her and the door, which put me right up against her. She said she really needed to get back to work and she reached for the door, which just put her even closer to me pressing me against the door a little so I could feel her body against mine. She started to back up and I followed her till she hit the wall and I pressed myself against her. I was just a couple of inches taller than her so that put my breast right in her face that was turned downward. I could feel her hot breath against the skin just above my bra and could tell I was making her very nervous. I asked her if she liked the outfit or if it made me look fat. She stumbled over it but said that I definitely was not fat in fact she said was very sexy looking. I giggled and said really, you think so, what about it is sexy though. She blushed but she said that it fit my curves and that it gave the illusion of nudity without being so. I said well if it looks so good then why won't you look at me, do you not like it. She blushed even harder and said that she like it very much especially on me. I smiled and said that I had to thank her properly for boosting my ego so much. She finally looked up at me confused, which put our faces just inch or so apart and said that I didn't need to because she was just being honest. I closed that last inch hovering over her mouth and said what if I insist and she said kind of breathlessly well I guess if you feel you should. I smiled and kissed her softly just lips until she returned the kiss putting her hands on my hips and running them up my back and then down my sides just barely grazing the sides of my breast. She continued down with her hands till she reached my thighs and she followed them around till she cupped my ass in her hands massaging it. With this I leaned into her hands and body and gave way to a deep passionate kiss of tongue, lips, and teeth. I ran my hands down the sides of her body feeling how soft and warm she was. Then I kissed down her neck to her collar bone to the tops of her breast that were slightly expose out of her top from us being pressed together. I continued to run my hands down until I got just below her short skirt to her bare thighs and then started back upwards under her skirt slowly pulling it up. She let out a small moan as I exposed her warm soft button that was just barely covered in a small black G-string as well. I went back to her lips kissing her as I ran my fingers lightly up against her hot center rubbing them into her just enough to tell that she was already wet. I ran my hands up her body under her little tank top she had on and cupped her breast in my hands and started massaging them, I pressed my self into her grinding against her hot center causing her to moan even more. I pulled her shirt over her head exposing her lacy bra. As I kissed her again I sat down on the bench bringing her with me so that she was straddling me and I reached back and undid her bra freeing her breast. I started kissing and licking around her nipples and massaging her ass she began rolling her hips grinding herself into me and moaning. She reached down and pulled her skirt free from a Velcro piece on the side leaving her in only her G-string. She pushed me back against the mirror and started kissing down my neck across my collarbone and down to my breast. Then she reached back and undid my bra, and then she licked and sucked on my nipples till they almost hurt while massaging my breast with her hands. She slid down my body putting herself on her knees right between my legs. She pulled me to the edge of the bench and started kissing down my stomach to my hipbone. She grabbed hold of the G-string and pulled them right off leaving me quivering and wandering what she would do. With a little smile she pushed my legs apart with her hands on my knees, when she had me spread as far as I was going to get she leaned in and blew her hot breath on my clit. It sent shudders through me making me squirm wanting her to keep going. Then she lightly licked the outline of my pussy lips until she got to my clit. She took it into her mouth and started sucking harder and harder pulling more and more of me into her mouth. I was pushing myself into her rubbing my juices all over her face. She was tongue fucking me and I was arching my hips upward to meet her when she suddenly snaked her tongue down across my asshole. It sent convulsions through me. I arched my hips up as far as I could get them and grabbed her hair and pushed her down wanting her to lick me so bad. She kind of giggled and then she started licking and sucking on my asshole. After a minute or two of this and the tongue fucking which she was very good at by the way, I came in a rush all over her face and the bench I was sitting on. After I caught my breath I looked down at her and she was licking my juices off of her hands, face, and the bench. At that I dove on her pushing her to the floor with kisses. I ran my hands up and down her body while practically eating from the mouth down. I nibbled my way down her collarbone to her breast and down her stomach. I sucked and bit on her hipbone and her lower abdomen until she practically screamed with anticipation. I spread her legs as far apart as I could get them and laid down between her legs and just lightly blew on her quivering pussy. She squirmed trying to get me to actually touch her. Finally not being able to stand it anymore she grabbed me by the hair and roughly forced my face into her pussy and rubbed it all over herself. With that I really started in on her and began to eat her out with an appetite I didn't know I even had. I started finger fucking her while licking and sucking on her clit. First one, two, then three fingers and when she thought she couldn't handle anymore I gave her four fingers and started fingering her as fast and as hard as I could. She was thrashing around, screaming, and scratching at the floor until she came in an explosion of orgasm. She came so much it ran down her legs and started soaking into the rug. When she calmed down her crawled up next to her and kissed her. She started kissing me back tasting herself in my mouth. After a few minutes we both got up and got dressed with giggles and smiles. She started to leave then she turned around and handed me a piece of paper with her name and number on it. She smiled at me and told me to call her if I wanted to get together some time. I smiled back and told her I definitely would call her. As she walked out I thought to myself if this is what kind of fun she could be on a spur of the moment then what do you think she would be like if we planned it first. Mmmmmm. Thrill and adventure the way I like it unpredictable. Thrill Me The problem with porn is that, like anything else, it eventually becomes boring, no matter what particular fetish a perv may have. Me, I'm an ass man, when it comes to chicks, at least (although boobs are a close second). (I prefer cock to ass when it comes to men, but the cock has to be cut). (I count balls with cocks, so men's asses are the close seconds). However, no matter how much a person loves women's asses, men's cocks, or anything else, enough is, eventually, enough, and the thrill is definitely not as thrilling as it once was, many moons ago (so to speak). Even the greatest fan becomes jaded after a while. Once one has truly acquired a taste for one sort of erotica or another, the eye begins to crave new candy. We're always on the lookout for something new—new to us, anyway—or at least different. For me, for a while, it was bukkake and gokkun. Seeing women's faces plastered with cum (bukkake) was a novelty; I'd never seen anything like it before in my life. Others maybe had, but it was new to me. Pictures and clips of chicks drinking sperm (gokkun) by the shot glass and the bowlful was also new to me; I'd never seen anything like it before in my life. I couldn't get enough of it. At first. Then, by and by, the sight of many men's pearly essences splattering women's hair, brows, noses, cheeks, chins, and throats and of semen frosting their eyelashes, glossing their lips., and decorating their earlobes was nothing new. I'd seen it all before, hundreds, if not thousands, of times. Once again, the thrill was gone. Once the thrill is gone, it's gone. Oh, it can come back. It just takes a long time. The familiarity has to wear off a little, so the images are not quite so—well, familiar. They'll never become new, or even like new, again, but, at least, they can be refreshed. Allowed to become dim memories, photos of sperm-drenched faces and of semen-swilling chicks can be made vivid again—and intriguing again—by having been avoided for a while. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and sights that once were too often seen to be fascinating any longer can become at least arousing again. If familiarity breeds contempt, absence makes the cock grow longer (and harder and thicker). While waiting for the vanished thrill to return, a perv does well to find a new thrill to tide him or her over. For me, just now, the new thrill, or the latest, at any rate, is butt cleavage. Not asses—or, at least, not asses as such—but ass cleavage, also known as the intergluteal cleft or the intergluteal sulcus.) So, you may be asking, why would butt cleavage thrill even a perv like me, when I could be feasting my male gaze upon a delectable female derriere in its entirety? Just the asking of such a question betrays abominable ignorance about what porn is and what porn does. Porn is the depiction of the forbidden, and it works by not only by showing that which is forbidden, but also by making the show appealing. To make nudity (or sex) appealing, the pornography must find new ways to show the same basic body (private) parts (or sexual acts) over and over without wearing the luster off the part or act that is depicted over and over and over again. Sometimes, this means showing only part of a of an act or a part of a part (the cleavage, for example, instead of the entire ass); other times, it means showing the part of a part from various perspectives (from the top down, from the bottom up, from one side or the other, or straight on, for example); still other times, it means displaying the part of the part in some way, framing it, perhaps, or juxtaposing it to something else of a different color, texture, intensity, or nature. Occasionally, it means doing all these things at the same time. By showing just parts of the buttocks—the cleavage, viewed head-on, from the top, from an angle, from one side or the other, or from below—makes the ass interesting again, because showing it in a new, or different, way renews it, recovers it, refreshes it. Showing the cleavage in a variety of ways also makes its display fun and captivating. Here are some descriptions, from a recent "examination" of the subject: A brunette, she sits on her heels, her jeans pulled beneath the sleek globes of her buttocks, topless, a barbell through the piercing at the base of her spine, looking through a staircase railing as she cups her breasts. Since she faces away from the voyeur—or viewer—her face is not seen, and one cannot know at what she looks, if anything. Her bottom is not entirely bare, but it is mostly displayed, and the deep divide between her smooth buttocks is tantalizingly visible. Tall, dark, and beautiful, she leans hard to the left, her right fist perched atop the raven tresses of her swept-back hair, her face in profile, a huge hoop earring piercing the lobe of her right ear. Her back is a sculpted landscape of shoulder blades, depressions, hollows, and dimples above jeans that are lowered midway down her lovely buttocks, showing her viewers the deep cleavage between the chocolate orbs of her delectable derriere. She is young, and her upper body is foreshortened. Her face, close to the camera, is not only arresting but also rather overwhelming: red hair, straight and fine, arched brows, brown eyes, a pert nose, pink lips, a firm jaw, small ears, a few freckles, and a frank, confident gaze: she is watching the viewer watch her. A tight T-shirt covers her breasts and back as, elbows on her mattress, invisible to the eye, but implied by her posture, she leans well forward, over her bed, her tight, faded jeans hugging her ass, but low down, revealing the beautiful cleft of her bottom before covering its lovely twin swells. Her dress is simple—or, rather, it is complex, but in such a sophisticated fashion that it appears to be simple or, at least, simpler than it is. Open down the back, to the waist, the green-gray fabric gathers at the spine, just above the waist, and falls, as a skirt, covering her to the middles of her thighs—except for the oval cutout that frames the intergluteal cleft, which is itself framed by her hands, the extended fingers of which touch her hips. A similar feat is accomplished by a black leather bikini bottom that includes a cutout in its seat, the top of which features bands, one on each side of the cutout, that link, on either side, to a central ring of gold. The playful bikini bottom is a tease: it both conceals and exposes the buttocks, effectively playing a game of hide-and-seek with the viewer that leaves him (or her) wanting to see more. The hot-pink-orange bikini bottom is all she wears. Her back is bare, so it is obvious that she does not wear a top, and her arms and legs are also naked. The bottom is pulled down, showing the deep cleft of her firm, tight ass and the sand that the buttocks have acquired, obviously as she lay upon the beach some time before this photograph was taken and before she waded into the water covering the sandy bottom of the sea among the rocks. She stands with her back to us, a raven-haired lovely looking over her right shoulder and down, not at us precisely; perhaps she attempts to see her own buttocks, the bottoms and part of the lower cleavage of which show below her slightly risen—or lifted—top. Her legs are crossed at the ankles, and she wears high heels, but neither pants nor skirt nor shorts nor stockings nor garter belt nor panties nor anything else at all on her long, shapely legs, the crossing of which accentuates further the firm thrust of her tight, firm bottom and makes us wish, most fervently, that she would remove her shirt altogether, the better to display her gorgeous derriere, although, in truth, the top, a brown and silky affair, is itself lovely enough, in its own way. The small of her back and her buttocks come together at an angle that is approximately forty-five degrees, the sharp, contrasting slopes accentuating one another, the inward tilting spine a foil to the outward-thrusting buttocks, making them seem all the more pronounced. The jeans, too, blue against her tan flesh, highlight the bare curves of the lovely orbs on either side of their deep divide. The label on the waistband seems huge, for it is close to the camera, and seems a brand upon her bottom, as if it is she, and not the jeans, that is owned by Wrangler. The garment seems unable to decide what it wants to be: shorts or an abbreviated skirt, such as cheerleaders wear, or panties. Its seat features a Valentine's heart-shaped cutout that displays the upper portions of her buttocks, and the cleavage between them, to superb effect. The shorts-skirt-panties starts out black, but the inner edges of the heart shape are trimmed in red lace; then, there is, again, black for a short space, and then red once more, this time in the form of pleats. A delightful and attractive frame, indeed, for a pair of equally delightful and attractive buttocks! There are many other presentations of the lovely feminine fanny as it is accentuated by its reduction to cleavage, whereby it becomes a part or parts of a greater whole. It is more fun, though, to check these depictions out for oneself than to read mere descriptions of them, and it is easy enough to do: simply enter an appropriate phrase, such as "butt cleavage" or "ass cleavage," into an image browser and, presto! Hopefully, if readers take anything away from this essay at all, it is how to refresh, renew, recover, and refresh the sexy images that, from time to time, for a time, sooner or later become more ho-hum than arousing, more prosaic than poetic, more mundane than marvelous.