6 comments/ 27931 views/ 9 favorites The Book of Ruth: Coming Fast By: Hypoxia Author's note: This episode of an extended romantic memoir includes mature and group sex, and incest, and heavy-duty teasing, and wanton disregard for propriety. This tale is probably somewhat fictional. All sexual acts involve conscious, willing humans of age 18+. You don't NEED to read the previous episode, THE BOOK OF RUTH: BEFORE RUTH, but it won't hurt. Your feedback is appreciated. ***** THE BOOK OF RUTH: Coming Fast ***** -- 1978 -- Summertime You may have heard the term "family circle", meaning a gathering of kin, or just your immediate cluster of relatives. Me and my sister Jill and our mom Nina preferred a slightly different definition. We were in our cozy little family circle, lying on the Cal-King bed in Jill's brilliant bedroom. I licked Nina's puffy pussy while she ate her daughter, who was slurping my cock nicely. We were all groaning by now. We sure do love our triad daisy chains! My tongue softly circled and probed the labia through which I had passed on my entry into this world. My sister's generous mouth was a bottomless chasm engulfing my cock. I could tell from Jill's fluctuating suction that our mother's mature tongue was working magic upon her daughter's pussy. Our three simultaneous orgasms were not products of fate nor circumstance, but of many long hours of practice. Practice makes perfect, you bet! Alas, life is never perfect, and learning that is a tough lesson. We need to experience contrasts before we can start to judge reality. We do not really know the good if we have not known the bad. Unless and until we touch the depths, we do not appreciate the heights. I have been skimming the higher realms most of my life, thank you kindly. I have seen enough to appreciate the contrasts. I like being where I am. Fuck the lowlights. My über-smart two-years-older sister Jill is my slave master, and my muse, and my best friend for always. Since I recently turned eighteen, she is also my lover. So is our mom, Nina, who has been Jill's lover since she reached adulthood. We kids had been raised naked. We did not wear clothes inside our home. We had slept together naked all our lives, Jill and I, and often with Mom. And now we shared physical love. Not that I would want to marry or even go steady with either. They are just lots of good sexy fun, as well as being family. Yes, they are almost always available. They are cheap dates, too. What more could a guy ask for? (Heh heh...) Let me introduce us again. Jill and I are tall and slim, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. She is almost six feet high; I have a few inches on her, and a few pounds, and better body strength. People say we are good-looking: taut muscles, sharp features, high cheekbones, dimpled chins, good teeth, and full-body tans. Jill has great firm tits and I don't, so we're easy to distinguish. Her hair is longer, too. She looks like Mom (I mean Nina) minus eighteen years. In other words, just fucking gorgeous. Jill and I had returned to our familiar Santa Monica home from our fun- and sex-filled drive to Taxco [TOSS-koh]. (See the previous episode for details.) That vertical Guerrero town between Mexico City and Acapulco is where Jill buys silver, jewellery and regional crafts for her business. She obtains amber, coral, turquoise, jade, and other stones elsewhere. Yeah, it was Jill's business. I would eventually own a share. But for now, I had a job, managing Jill's Los Angeles area sales network, mostly street carts and booths at weekend events. She recruited vendors from her school contacts. ----- I lounged by the pool at my cousin Doug's Venice Beach apartment block. We sipped beer, toked primo, munched bar nuts, and idly watched nearly-naked females enter and exit the water and air. Doug wiped Schlitz foam from his blond handlebar moustache. "So how's this business thing going, cuz?" Doug asked. "Pretty good, pretty good." (toke) (hold) (exhale) "I'll stay busy till I start at UCLA this fall. I'll have to cut back some then. It's good for now." I took another sip of brew. "And it's all about the people. One of our best vendors is Rachel, a senior at Fairfax High. Lots of her fellow students love Taxco silver rings, earrings, pendants, ornaments, that kinda stuff. She's right there for them." "So this Rachel, is she hot, or what?" (toke) "Rachel is like a preview edition of her MILF mama Deborah. Deb, er I mean Mrs Shapiro, looks awful damn good herself. They both have great tits, fine legs, firm butts, hourglass figures, just the kind you like, you dawg." (toke) (hold) (exhale) "I like'em too. I've had a few sessions with Rachel. Mmmm..." "What, you fuck the employees? That can't be good, business-wise or legally, yeah? Especially the jailbait. Better leave her for me, heh heh." (toke) My cousin could be a pig sometimes. "Naw, our vendors are 'independent contractors' and over eighteen. No legal problems -- Jill had the legality checked out. We're cool there. I just make sure my Rachel sessions are extra-curricular." "Mr Shapiro doesn't have a shotgun, I hope." "Oh, worse than that, he's a lawyer." (shudder) "But Rachel's an adult, and she can do what she wants, as long as she's not too obvious around the house. Y'know, don't scare neighbors or passers-by, don't attract cops, don't wreck the furniture, that sorta thing. So we're discreet." (toke) I also screwed Rachel's mom Deborah at their house, but I didn't tell Doug that. He did not Need To Know, right? And I could save those stories for later. --- Meet the Shapiro gals --- I made my daily rounds all summer. On alternate days I hit Los Angeles County beaches and attractions, then Orange County beaches and amusement parks. I hooked up with Rachel a couple times each week, and with her mom Deb whenever the mister was out of town and the kids were away somewhere. Jill introduced me to Rachel after we returned from the Taxco drive. She drove me in her hopped-up smuggler-ized VW Bug down from West Hollywood. Its swapped-in turbocharged Porsche engine whispered a low thrum. Its secret compartments were empty till we needed their stealthy capacity again. We pulled up to a capacious house on a big fenced and landscaped lot. Jill led me to the porch and hit the buzzer. A tall dark girl about our age opened the front door. Like us, she wore the standard uniform of suggestive shorts, blatant tee, and bright sneakers. Her long walnut-brown hair hung in a ponytail. "Hi Jill, how ya doing?" the girl greeted and embraced my sister. "And who's this hunk of handsome here?" She ran her fingers up my biceps. I flexed immodestly and leered. "This is my little brother Randy. He'll be running the sales network here. From now on, he's your tough boss, your teacher, your uncle with a heart, your enforcer, your gritty guru. He be The Man!" Jill laughed at that. Rachel joined her. "And Randy, in case you couldn't guess, this is Rachel Shapiro, the star of our show, and the best damn street vendor in town! We ain't rich yet, but she sure helps." Jill looked at her wristwatch. "And I'd love to hang around to chat, but I have to run an errand. Look guys, why don't you two get acquainted, and I'll be back in a couple hours, okay?" She usually phrased her direct orders as requests. Nice boss. Jill sped away. (Yes, with that blown Stuttgart mill inside, the Bug *did* zoom off quickly.) I left my red Keds at the doorway and padded inside in socks. Rachel took my hand and led me into the large modern kitchen. "Like a soda or something?" "Sure, anything but Doctor Pepper. I hate carbonated prune juice." "Silly boy, that's just an urban legend! How about some Canada Dry? Maybe with a splash of gin?" "Sure, thanks. That reminds me of the old story about the guy who tried to drink Canada dry. He died of liver failure, heh-heh." I smirked as she handed me a tumbler. Mmmm, big splash of gin there. This could be interesting. "Oho, so you're a funny guy, too! Jill told me all about you. ALL about you, got that?" Rachel brushed the back of her hand across my crotch. She aimed an evil smile at me. We drank our cold drinks and chatted till they were gone. I felt warm. "Now c'mon with me, let's get acquainted just like the boss said to." Rachel grabbed my growing boner through my denim cutoffs and dragged me to her bedroom. I was a bit nervous. "Ummm, just *what* did Jill say about us?" Our Mom had raised Jill and I alone since our dad ran off with a Thai waitress a decade or so ago. She raised us to be discreet. Somehow, blabbing about incest didn't seem too discreet. Rachel stood me next to her bed. She grabbed the bottom of my black RAMONES tee and started lifting it up. I raised my arms; she peeled me like a steamed crawdad. "Oh, just that she's seen you in action a couple times, and the girls you were with seemed more than slightly happy," she said as she put my hands on the hem of her form-fitting ochre DEATH VALLEY tee, dimpled by two hard nipples, "and that I should give you a try." Rachel's tee sent an ambiguous message. Which "Death Valley" was meant? A chasm of doom between her breasts? Or between her thighs? Or did she just like the desert? Oh well, worry about that some other time... I raised her tee. Rachel's large firm stand-up-on-their-own breasts no more needed a bra than did my own manly chest. "So I decided to give you a try. You any good?" I didn't speak. I just pulled her close and French kissed her while massaging those big impressive melons. It was a mostly gentle massage that synchronized with our tongue-lashing and moaning. Big soft brown aureoles like beaded pads; stiff pencil-eraser nipples; cushiony warm flesh. Handfuls of happiness! "You like how those feel, guy? I sure like how you're feeling them!" Rachel's hands worked my belt loose and dropped my khaki cutoffs and black briefs to the floor. I released her awesome twosome and did the same with her shorts and panties. We stood breast-to-chest with our hands at each other's fuzzy pubes. I kissed around those terrific tits. Rachel ventilated. I inhaled one nipple, then the other, amid her gasping. I pinched her unoccupied nipple and bit the other. She groaned happily. She pulled me onto the bed, on my back, and straddled my hips. Damn, this girl was fast! Nimble and limber, too. "Don't mind me, I get real horny sometimes," Rachel said, aiming my titanium-hard cock at her hungry pussy. She flexed her legs, dropped directly, and firmly impaled herself on me. "Oh fuck yeah, Randy!" she wheezed. I hoped L.A.'s smog didn't give her emphysema. Rachel pushed herself up and down on my slippery shaft. Her breasts swayed elliptically, enticingly. She moved faster. And faster. And she drove herself to a fast loud orgasm. "Oh fuck! Oh yeah! Oh shit! Oh oh oh! AAAHHHHH!!!" She gurgled and shook and fell off me, groaning. I was a bit worked up by now. I mean, my blood was POUNDING and BOILING! I shoved Rachel onto her back, spread her legs, and dove in head-first. No face mask, no snorkel, no SCUBA gear, no fucking fins, just a nice clean low-dive into oblivion. In the ancient Greek colony town of Paestum, Italy, not far east from Vesuvius, is a famous and captivating funerary painting of a naked man, or his soul, diving into eternity. I felt like that, but alive. I was diving into Rachel. I wanted a good taste. I licked around and into her pussy, soaking my face with her spicy cum. I sucked her labia, left, then right. "Ooohhh..." I tongue-fucked her. "Ah. Ah. AH! AHH!" I moved to her clit and attacked. She screamed and flowed and flopped around. "OH FUCK, RANDY! OH OH OH, OH SHIT, OH FUCK, OH HOLY SHIT RANDY, OH OH, AAHH!" Now it was MY turn. Foreplay was finished. I pulled Rachel's spread knees up over my shoulders and entered her without hesitation or doubt. I pushed in fully, pulled out nearly all the way, then shoved back into her and started pounding. And continued pounding. And pounding. We spewed obscenely wet squishy sounds. Yowzah! I wasn't clock-watching so I can't say just how long I fucked Rachel. Nor did I count her screams. But that full-on fuck and my ensuing orgasm-plex left bruises. To Jill, "get acquainted" seems to mean "fuck yourselves unconscious." Right on! Rachel and I cuddled. Oh, so nice and soft and warm! She peered into my face. Her dancing eyes swirled and sparkled like morning stars. The house was suburban-quiet after our noisy coupling. We lazily cleaned up, and dressed, and sucked more ginger ale (minus gin), and didn't even try to look innocent when Jill returned. Jill just said, "Yeah, I *thought* you two would do okay." We talked business for a while. Rachel hugged and kissed us both goodbye. I got the slurpy-gropey version. Hey, will all our business meetings be like this? ----- Sometimes I met Rachel at her sales cart, and we were mostly business. Sometimes we met at her home, and we were mostly sexual. And sometimes Rachel wasn't home. Business was good enough that Jill bought us each a slightly-used (and fully-depreciated) SAAB 99 Turbo for driving that didn't include border crossings. (The SuperBug was our trans-border hauler.) Her SAAB was painted gold, mine was only silver. Think she was pulling rank? I drove my SAAB to the Shapiro house one afternoon. The front door was opened, not by Rachel, but by her mom Deborah ("Call me Deb"), as fine and foxy a MILF as I've ever encountered. She wore a thin lime-green just-above-the-knees halter-top sun dress today. Like her daughter, Deb was tall, dark, aquiline, curvy, radiant, sharp. Deb was also observant. "You've been having a good time with my Rachel, haven't you? Don't think I haven't noticed. Yes, I can see, hear, and smell." Her pointed appraising gaze bored right through me, stripping away my secrets. Not that I minded much. I left my shoes at the door. "Come with me, boy," Deb said. She took my hand and led me into the spacious modern living room. She sat me in the middle of a long couch and settled next to me. Deb's dress rode up to mid-thigh, revealing exquisite tennis-mom legs. She placed my hand on her bare thigh. My jeans shorts had risen above my own knees; her other hand settled on my thigh flesh and its thin coat of short dark hairs. I am not quite a furry. "Randy, I am a desperate woman. I have needs, needs my workaholic husband doesn't fulfill. He's certainly fulfilling his own needs with some of his secretaries and clerks anyway. I don't care about that, as long as we can live the way we do here. "He won't divorce me and run off with some young slut. This is California, and he can't afford a community-property settlement, giving me half of everything. So we just live our own lives, sometimes under the same roof, this roof here. Sometimes not. He's gone so much lately, it's mostly 'not'. "Randy, I told you that I am a desperate woman, and I know you are a hot young man. I know you're used to young girls, girls your own age, girls like Rachel who'll do anything for you, to harvest your orgasms. I'm not so young. But I'm in damn good shape. Randy, I want you to fuck me, fuck me like you do your young girlfriends." She didn't add, "Fuck me like you fuck my daughter Rachel," but that message was strongly implied. Deborah stood and slid the sundress over her head. She wore nothing underneath. She needed nothing. Her body was a bit fuller and softer than her daughter's, half her age, but not by much. Rachel was a beautiful young girl. Deb was a stunning mature woman in her physical prime. Probably her sexual prime too. Oh boy! "Randall Orson van Ronk at your cervix, ma'am!" I punned. Deb laughed. I stood beside Deb. She reached to my belt. My shorts and briefs hit the ground as I skinned my red A CLOCKWORK ORANGE tee over my head. We stood naked together. Deb pushed against me, pulled my head down with one hand, my mouth to hers, and grabbed my butt with her other hand, shoving my crotch into hers. My cock had reacted naturally, of course. I nestled stiffly in her wiry muff. I briefly admired Deborah's fine, feminine, well-exercised body; she likewise gazed at my athletic form. I'm no jock but I do run cross-country and practice martial arts. My tall nakedness was pretty impressive, if I do say so myself. Enough with preliminaries. Deb was as demanding as her daughter, and as direct. She shoved me back onto the couch and mounted me like fucking Calamity Jane. She rode me hard and put me away wet. I nearly bucked her off a few times, but she stayed in the saddle and whinnied like a champion. She enraged me. I snorted and fumed. After Deb's nth set of screams, I slipped my steel-hard rod out of her, flipped her over the couch's padded arm, face and belly down. I re-entered her from behind, firmly, not too gentle, not too bestial, but with determination, and some bit of self-control, and HOT FUCKING LUST! Her athletic hips made fine handholds as I pistoned into her. She could not escape. Not that she tried, hey? My blood-filled battering ram pounded away. Deb's vagina was a tender tactile treat. Not too loose, not too tight, just smooth and wet enough, and hungry for my meat. I felt her well-exercised cuntal muscles contract and grab my cock. That finished me. I came like thunder. I stood stock still with every buzzed muscle tensed-up tight while volumes of my hot lust shot into this sultry MILF's inviting interior. I coated and filled her living womb. We overflowed. I collapsed heavily onto her, my not-yet-soft cock still inside and thrashing. Deborah cried continuously through all this. Her weeping refrain was content-less, incomprehensible, with various syllables sounding like my name, and 'fuck' and 'oh', and maybe some Yiddish. Okay, so I didn't catch the words, but I sure got the spirit of her message. We lay together for some minutes sharing sweat, breath, and full-body contact. Deborah kissed me softly. "Holy fuck, boy, that was the best orgasm I've had in years!" She held me close, then pulled my head down to her ample breast. I smiled and nibbled and licked. "You *do* know how to treat a woman!" she murmured. I moved to her other breast. She sighed. "Oh shit, you're sending shockwaves to my pussy." Deborah pushed me back and moved her face to my crotch. She held my now-limp cock close for a critical visual inspection, then opened her mouth and licked off our combined juices. "Mmmm, we taste good." She resumed licking, then swallowed me. I was just eighteen years old. I responded rather quickly. "Again?" Deborah asked. "Fuck yeah!" I replied. Deb spread her lovely legs to me. I climbed aboard. We fucked each other's brains out for another hour at least. Brains? What brains? Yes, we became well acquainted. And we met regularly after that. ----- Gentle Readers, you may be entertaining serious thoughts right now. Thoughts about cuckoldry, about preying on cheating wives. Did I cuckold Mr Shapiro? Well, I was the seduced, not the seducer. She was the one who said, "Fuck me." So I can claim it was his wife who cuckolded him, and I was just the tool. Whatever. And he had been fucking around, or so she said. Was anyone a victim here? Was this all just victimless, meaningless, blameless fun? Look at me. Here I am, a vigorous young man with normal hormones and a firm moral upbringing. Mom (I mean Nina) raised Jill and me to be thoughtful, caring, responsible, respectful, and discrete. Don't hurt others -- unless they really deserve it! Did I approach Mrs Deborah Shapiro with intent to lure her away from her husband, or trick or force her to betray him, or otherwise break-up their happy stable marriage? Not at all! I was offered a gift, the gift of her body, on her own terms. I accepted. The Book of Ruth: Coming Fast I had, and still have, absolutely no moral qualms about having sex with married or otherwise 'committed' women. I do not especially seek them out; I do not refuse them when they approach me. Did they think their 'commitments', their vows, were no longer in effect? Did they want me enough to throw away whatever they had? That was their decision, not mine. I didn't and don't blame myself for unraveling their relationships. Does that make me an amoral bastard? I don't think so. My morality is strictly grounded on a simple phrase you may have heard: "First, do no harm." I try not to harm others. But I can't stop others from harming themselves and those around them. I cannot run others' lives, only my own. I can't glue broken human fragments into the forms they once held. Would I feel differently if it was MY relationship unraveling? Just wait and see. The Book of Ruth: Coming Fast "Okay, suppose you fuck him. What then, baby? It can't last. You're going away for college back East. You'll have him for the rest of the summer, that's all." "I don't know if that's too little time or too much. I just don't know..." Steam blurred the images slightly, but I could see the girls soaping each other under the spray. They were a trifle familiar with each other's body. No slurping or groping right now, but this obviously wasn't their first shared shower. Hmmm, me as an executioner? I've already labeled myself a corporate hitman. Guess I'm not Mister Normal Nice Guy. They finished washing and drying each other. They squatted to pick through the clothes stacks. I always kept a supply of clean tees and shorts of various sizes for my occasional guests. I stored the clothes on lower shelves so guests must bend over to reach them, heh heh. Nice views! I switched off the noise filter and resumed eavesdropping. "Look at all these clothes! Randy couldn't fit in any of these shorts. He must keep all this here for his girls. He's probably fucking bitches every day -- get'em sweaty, get'em showered, get'em into these slut shorts, then get into'em again! How do I even have a chance?" "Hey baby, that's about exactly what you want from him, right? You know he's a good fucktoy, or at least your sister and mom think so. You just trying to give him the complete Shapiro set?" "I just don't know what I really want. Yeah, I want to fuck the bastard. I think I might want to be with the bastard. I don't know for how long. Maybe a long time. But first I've got to get him." "So what do you want me to do, baby? Double-team him? Think he'll go for a three-way with us?" "There's only one way to find out." Ruth took the tee Katia was about to slip over her head, and her own, and put them back on the shelf. "Just put on some tight shorts. Let's go get him!" Katia found the little spandex bun-huggers I keep on hand for tight juicy female butts. Ruth donned a pair of sun-faded Daisy Dukes that exposed the lower half of her double-bubble cheeks. They whispered and kissed, then left the bathroom. My eyes were still on the Mac's little screen. My spycams let me watch the topless girls sashay down the hallway to my nook. So they had a plan, did they? I thought to play a different game. I switched the Mac to a brochure layout, and acted innocent. I swiveled my chair around to face them as they closed in on me. "Hi girls, nice tits! What's up?" "Oh, I really want to talk to you, and we just thought you might like to hang and have a little fun." Ruth's inviting smirk mirrored Katia's sly smile. "Wow, that sounds great! But I'll need a rain check. I have to go do business," I lied. "Hang on, let me throw your clothes into the dryer." I tended that laundry task and returned. "They'll be dry in ten. Do you two have a way to get home?" Ruth's disappointment was obvious. "Uh, well we drove to Venice and started running. I guess we could run back. It's not too hot yet." "I can give you a lift there, no problem. Now, just what kind of fun can we have in nine minutes?" I raised my eyebrows. "Hey, I know! How about you two dyke-out for me? Maybe 69 on my bed? Yeah, a good hot show!" Ruth and Katia both looked startled. They glanced at each other, then at me, and back, like dashboard bobble heads on a twisty road. I laughed. "Okay, I guess you can't do much in eight minutes. Well, you could suck your tits. That wouldn't be too pervy, would it? Here, let's see what you taste like." I reached out, took a hand of each, and pulled them near. I closely admired those four firm barely-legal breasts. I licked around one of Ruth's nipples, then one of Katia's. "Oh yeah, nice. Okay, your turns." I pulled them closer together. Ruth shrugged and bent to Katia's right nipple. I cupped Katia's left breast and sucked. Katia wobbled a bit while we stimulated her. As I moved to Ruth's right nipple, she straightened and Katia suckled her left breast. Ruth moaned and twitched. DING went the clothes drier's timer bell. I stood back from the girls. "Okay, time to go. We'll have to do this again sometime, and hop in the hot tub, then the pool, then into bed, et fucking cetera. But business is business. Let's roll!" I gently but firmly pressed their butts and pushed them into the hall. "Let's get your clothes now, and I'll drive you to your car." Yeah, Ruth thought she had a plan: Fuck me and see what happens. I had another idea. People seem to long for the unobtainable. If I deny Ruth now, she would want me even more, and be easy to manipulate, right? The girls dressed in their clean running gear. We passed through the kitchen on our way out of the house. Nina left a note: AT BOBBY'S TODAY. Bobby was one of her lovers, another night-shift worker. We got on okay. But I missed not having Mom to hug and kiss this morning. Sometime later, then. Katia crawled into the back seat of my silver company SAAB. Ruth took the front passenger seat. Ruth watched me closely during the drive back to Venice Beach. I thought maybe to taunt my cousin Doug with these two babes, but he probably wasn't even up yet, the slug. We had an interesting drive down Pacific Avenue. Lots of stoplights gave us lots of time to converse. "So what did you want to chat about, Ruth? Can we talk in front of Katia?" I drove. Katia giggled again. Ruth looked abashed. "Well, it's like this, I just want to sort of apologize, sort of..." Ruth turned away from me and stared out her window. "Okay, a sorta apology, I guess I can sorta accept that. Now what?" Katia giggled again. Ruth's neck blushed bloodily. Ruth turned back to me. "I'm... I'm sorry I've been such a bitch to you, all these years. I'm sorry I've called you names and stuff. You're really an all right guy." Katia interrupted. "Even though he fucked your mother and sister, right?" Ruth's blushing glow intensified. Her voice barely croaked. "Randy, I just want to be your friend. Can we be friends?" Ruth had maneuvered herself into a corner. I was starting to enjoy this. "Katia, you're good friends with Ruth, right?" I glanced at Katia in the rear-view mirror. She nodded to me. "And friends get to suck each other's tits and clits, right?" Katia naturally tan skin blushed, and she nodded again. "And if you're her friend, and I'm her friend, then we're friends too, right? Like a package deal?" Ruth turned to look at Katia, and they both nodded. "Okay then, I'll be glad to be your friend! But I really do have to get on with business now. Call me soon, okay? We'll get together." I parked behind Ruth's baby-blue Pugeot. We all slid from my silver SAAB and stood on the sidewalk. I took Ruth in my arms. "See you later, friend." I gave her a firm not-too-fast kiss, no tongue. I turned to Katia. "And you too, my friend." I held her tight and kissed her passionately. I felt Ruth fume behind me. Hah! Ruth never did call me, nor return to my house. I guess she re-thought per plan. Whatever. I would not see her again for more than two years. (Katia was another story!) Time moved on. --- 1984 --- Thanksgiving --- My cousin Doug and I had survived yet another family feast. Turkeys and pigs did not survive. Yes, it's GOOD to on top of the food chain! Now, on Black Friday, all the womenfolk were out bargain-hunting, and most of the guys were nearly comatose around TV sets, watching whatever athletic games they were addicted to. Doug and I were not sports junkies; we lounged on the deck surrounding the pool at his Venice apartment block. Yes, the water was nicely heated. Yes, the women were scantily clad. Yes, our eyes were pleased. "So kid, you still getting laid a lot?" Subtlety was never Doug's strong point. We both sipped our Anchor Steam drafts. Mmmm, real beer... "Yeah, well, business sucks up a lot of my time, but I'm not exactly doing without, even when I'm traveling." "I thought Jill handled all your remote affairs. Is she putting you on the road too? You're some jet-set playboy now?" "Hah!" I almost snorted my Anchor suds. "More like a messenger boy with only carry-on bags. Most of what I get to see are airports, hotels, offices, and workshops or warehouses. Not a lot of local color there, y'know?" "Well, what local color *do* you get? And do they taste good?" I smiled. "A gentleman never talks about such matters. If I were a gentleman, I'd just say that I have many friends, all over. And new friends are pretty easy to find." "Sure, you just buy'em drinks and dinner and dance'em into bed, right?" I smiled again. "Well cuz, it's not like you never gave me any lessons. I sit at the feet of the master here." "Fuckin' ay!" Doug raised his bottle, saluting himself. I returned the gesture. We chatted through the day till sunset. Coastal evening air was chilly enough to drive bare female flesh from the pool. I bid Doug a "see-ya next time" and started the short drive home. ----- Jill and Nina were already in bed when I got home. Our mom was on top of my sister in their languid 69. Jill's smooth thighs slowly accordioned Nina's busy head. Jill opened her eyes, glanced at me, and grinned, then went back to tonguing our mother's pussy. I saw Nina's juices dripping into Jill's mouth. I cleaned up fast, a hasty shower-shampoo-shave session, and returned to them. Nina saw me and smiled, "Hey kid!" I said, "Hi Mom", and moved behind her. As I knelt behind her taut butt, Jill looked up at me, merrily slurped my cock to lubricate me well, then slid me into Nina's pussy and resumed licking our mom's clit. My swinging scrotum gently bounced and brushed Jill's forehead as my pubes stroked into Nina's ass-cheeks. We did not hurry. I did not pound. Eventually, our ministrations on her pussy took their toll on Nina. She raised her face from Jill's vulva and sang a moan, long, low, melodic, vibrant. She did not collapse. We did not stop. Nina moaned again, and again. I hastened my pace to match my building excitement. My juices threatened to explode, oh yes! As my testicles swelled, ready to eject their full load, Jill stopped licking Nina and slurped my balls into her mouth. That was enough. I erupted! As usual, I did not cum in spurts, but in a long continuous volcanic stream, spewing incandescent semen into my mother's willing womb like a flame-thrower. My orgasm seemed to last forever. I yelled. Nina screamed now. Even spent, I stayed mostly rigid, and continued sliding in and out of mom. And she kept screaming, till her lungs gave out and she indeed collapsed on her daughter's toned body, pulling her vagina off my softening member with an audible PLOP. Jill thirstily drank our combined juices as they spilled from Nina, then leaned her head back and thoroughly cleaned my cock. Who says big sisters are worthless? Exhausted Nina rolled aside. Jill slid around and aimed her pussy at me. "You've got to finish me, bro. Get busy!" Jill spread her legs wide. I got the message, loud and clear. I leaned my face into her vulva and attacked with tongue and fingers, slurping her anxious clitoris, probing into her velvety vagina with my right hand's digits, finding and grazing her G-spot. Jill twisted her own nipples viciously. Her moan was low and gutteral. I replaced my fingers in my sister's cunt with my thumb. I lubed well. I slowly inserted into her rectum and wriggled that thumb. I bit down on her clit. That's all she wrote! Jill's yells: quite loud. Her movements: quite convulsive. Her vagina: quite liquid. Her orgasm: quite satisfactorily, thank you very much. The three of us huddled together in a soggy, tired, happy cluster for some minutes. Damn, I love these women so much! We managed to crawl out of bed and drag into the shower. We cleaned each other thoroughly. We had to taste-test our work, of course. We passed. Jill stumbled naked to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee and make a snack-pack for Nina, who dressed for work. Mom's night-owl dispatch shift started soon. She would be nice and relaxed at her job, heh heh. Still naked, Jill and I hugged and kissed Nina good-bye as she left for work, then changed the sheets on her bed. We had not had coffee ourselves; we crawled into Jill's bed and spooned and slept. We half-awoke sometime in the darkest hours, and made slow lazy love, and slept again. We woke early, disentangled ourselves, drank coffee, munched muesli and yogurt, dressed for our pre-dawn run, and jogged down the beach in a morning mist. Fog droplets condensed on our skin as we ran. "Kid, I think now's the time to tell you. TBI is going big-time. And you'll be key to this." "Is that your way of saying you're going to pile another load of shit on me now?" Jill loves to spring surprises on me on mornings like this. "Yeah, exactly! You know our DC office? You get to take it over. It'll be our expanded Eastern headquarters. You'll be in charge of all our operations from the Mississippi valley onwards." "What, you're sticking me behind a desk? You know I hate that shit. I hate DC too. The fucking weather is awful and the food sucks. Not to mention the sleaze ball politicos." "No, you won't be office manager. You'll still be The Man! You'll be doing pretty much the same as now, just more so, for all the eastern US and Canada and the Caribbean. You'll always be on the move. Just keep everybody we deal with honest and focused. Don't worry about bribing politicians -- my DC guys already take care of that. And maybe you'll like Atlantic seafood." The prospect of shifting from LA to DC did not exactly thrill me. I visualized myself stuck in some anonymous Tiny Cubicle Office Building behind glass doors emblazoned with THUNDERBIRD INTERNATIONAL: Minerals, Metals and Materials and our hawk's-head logo. Sure, there would be sexytaries around, but still... I sighed. Jill ran the show. I was not about to quit. I would just have to accept, and acclimate. And live well. Living well is the best revenge. My life was slithering into a new phase. Oh fuck, not ANOTHER transformative experience! ----- NEXT: Doing (and enduring) Ruth Author's note: Oh Gentle Readers, I do hope you are not overly bothered that Ruth, the title character, hasn't yet been fucked senseless. Have no fear -- she gets PLENTY in the following episodes, all fairly standalone stories. Yeah, stay tuned for more good stuff. Many thanks to my editor MarkC1984.