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Guessing Game

By: williwhy



It never really made sense, how it all happened. You thought it over again, smiling slightly, as you hovered near sleep. Your muscles ached slightly, a good ache, and you stretched, cat-like, under the covers. The feeling of the sheets gliding over your legs reminded you of fingers softly moving over that same skin, and you found yourself going over it yet again...

Paolo was Latin, somewhere in South America, you thought. You were embarrassed that you kept forgetting where exactly. Anyway, he had been working with Ian for a few weeks, visiting the university on some sort of fellowship, and now he was on his way back to... wherever it was. Ian asked if he could come over for dinner that last night, sort of a farewell meal. You agreed, a little worried he might notice your eagerness. The accent. The skin. Yum yum. He could come over any time.

The kids were off at grandma's, so it was a wonderful night to be a grown-up. You looked fabulous, a slinky dress you loved, stockings (real stockings, with lace around the thigh), even make-up. Ian was a bit surprised when you came down, but you brushed it off, saying you just wanted to feel glamorous. And when Paolo arrived, there was wine, and fabulous conversation, and your dinner was a huge hit. But the wine came first. Maybe that was a mistake, but perhaps "mistake" is also in the eye of the beholder.

In any event, the wine had you feeling mellow and playful all at the same time. Paolo complimented you often, your hair, your smile, your dress. Even when you didn't look, you could feel his eyes on you all night. Your skin seemed to feel alive and warm, as you knew his gaze was washing over you. You could feel the touch of his eyes on your face, and on your body, and you noticed he was touching you often, making his points with quick light taps on your shoulder, your wrist. Sometimes it seemed his touch lingered just a heartbeat too long, but maybe that was the wine, or maybe that was his culture. As long as he would keep talking in that accent, you didn't object.

After the meal, you moved away from the table, settling in the family room. Paolo asked about the large black chair, wanting to know why it was plugged in. "Massage," you answered, and in response to his questioning look you offered to demonstrate. Settling into the chair as it reclined, you realized that you were feeling so relaxed, you knew the wheels and motors in the chair would eliminate all your knots. You started a massage program, explaining how it all worked. As your body started bouncing slightly with the movement of the chair, his gaze locked on yours for a moment. Ian didn't seem to notice, but you knew Paolo was imagining something else, just for a moment. Then you closed your eyes, letting the magic of the chair take over your muscles; you could feel his eyes on your legs even so. 

Then all went suddenly silent. You opened your eyes, feeling momentary disorientation when they wouldn't seem to open. You realized that all was well, your eyes still functioned, it was just that the power had gone out. Again. You groaned in frustration, and you heard Ian say he would find candles. Paolo came right to your aid, helping you out of the chair. Misunderstanding your frustration with the ineptitude of the power company as disappointment that your massage had ended, Paolo insisted you sit at the kitchen table, and began rubbing your shoulders. His fingers were large and strong, and you found yourself relaxing into his grip. As light slowly grew on the inside of your eyelids, you realized Ian had found candles.

"What's going on here?" you heard him say, a laugh in his voice. "Careful, Paolo, she can resist anything but a backrub!"

"Mmmmmm," you said in reply, lazily opening one unsteady eyelid toward Ian, giving him that impish "but it feels so good" grin.

"I don't mind," Paolo said. "I felt badly her rest was interrupted, and this is something I am good at. I worked for a time at a resort in college."

"Mmmmmmmm," you said again. In a few moments, he stopped, and you heard Ian wander off again, just as Paolo's hands started sliding gently through your hair.

"Don't tell me you worked in a hair salon too," you said. 

You were surprised to hear Ian's chuckling in return. "No, honey, that's just me this time," he said from behind you. Your eyes flew open, just in time to see Paolo return to the room, and you realized you had misunderstood the noises around you in the haze of your relaxed state. 

"What's so funny?" Paolo said, looking right in your eyes. 

"Nothing!" you replied, feeling yourself blush. And at the same time, you winced a bit as you heard Ian say, "It's just that she can't tell the difference between us."

Paolo looked steadily at you through this whole exchange, one eyebrow raised. Quickly, you explained your mistake, and he smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he sensed your discomfort. "Poor Ian!" he replied, and then looked up at Ian. "I think you shouldn't stand for that. I think we should test her!"

"Test me?" you said, speaking quickly to cut off Ian, who you could see nodding vigorously anyway. "What do you mean?" 

"Close your eyes," Ian said. "We'll show you."

You laughed a little, nervously, protesting a bit, but as Ian kept stroking your hair and Paolo walked around behind you, both of them encouraging you, you finally shut your eyes again. Again, you noticed the flickering light inside your eyelids as the candles fought the darkness. Ian and Paolo then explained their "test:" they would stroke your hair, one after the other, and you would have to guess who was who. Only one rule: no peeking.

At first, it was very hard to guess, and all of you laughed as your guesses went wrong. After a bit, you started to pick up clues. Ian's fingers were thinner, his reach not quite as large, Paolo tended to be a little slower. Your guesses improved, and as this happened they began varying their technique, making it harder again. Their extra work was pure heaven for you, as two sets of fingers caressed your hair and scalp. Still, despite their work you still began to pick up the clues. You noted who was standing where, you could sense the direction, and you became familiar with the touch. Your guesses started hitting every time.

You could sense their competitive fires burning. Suddenly, you felt a set of fingers gliding around on the thin material of your dress, caressing your shoulders. You shivered, leaning further over onto the table and exposing more of your back. When the fingers stopped, pulling away, you nervously said, "Paolo?" and were rewarded with an evil laugh from Ian. "Nope, not so smart now!"

The field of play now being widened, you found yourself failing again at the guessing game. Fingers played all about on your back and shoulders, and you fought off chills – the good chills – as you tried to keep track of who was who. Once again though, slowly your guesses improved, and as they did their efforts to surprise you re-doubled. They quit telling you when you were right, making it harder for you to improve, and deepening the silence. And, as their fingers began straying to your sides, and occasionally slipped under your collar to directly touch your skin, you began to recognize your heart beating in the silence as a sign of some arousal. 

As the game went on, more and more the fingers gliding over you moved from your back around toward the sensitive area under your arm or along the front of your shoulders. Your heart sped slightly as you felt yourself being pulled back up into a sitting position, allowing more access to these sensitive areas, and you let out a sigh when one contestant's hand ringed around the sides of your breasts. Almost without thinking, you reached out your hand and felt the arm that was touching you, willing your eyes to stay closed. Feeling the unfamiliar contours of that arm, you breathed, "Paolo."

"None of that," you heard them say as one. Each took a hand, and they placed them at your sides, guiding you to grip the back leg of your chair. "No letting go, now," Paolo said to you in a whisper. Your heart seemed to be pounding again as the next touch was in the very center of your chest, and two fingers began making looping outward spirals. The room was silent except for the ragged breathing of the players and their subject, and you felt sure that they must be able to hear the steady thumping of your heart. 

You felt hands whisk your hair to the side, exposing the back of your neck. The sudden return to the whiskers of hair along your neck line was startling, and you let out another sigh as the chills came over you. Then, your knuckles whitened on the chair leg as another hand began lowering the zipper. You could feel the fabric pulling apart, exposing a vee of sensitive skin to the unknown assailant (Ian, I think maybe it's Ian? you thought briefly). Yet a third hand now leaned you forward slightly, and you shuddered as the zipper hit bottom low on your back. 

Now nearly helpless in the spell of this bizarre but alluring competition, your mind returned to the challenge at hand. As one hand began sliding the dress down your right arm, and another the left, you concentrated for a moment. "Ian on the left, Paolo on the right," you guessed. The hands stopped, and you heard Paolo say "she's good," clearly standing on your right side. Your triumph was short-lived, as the hands resumed and you felt the dress slip down to your wrists. 

Now there was a new intensity to the game, as the fingers swirled about the exposed skin across your upper body. Before long your bra straps had slipped down your shoulders, and you felt fingers and palms brushing, gliding, and suddenly stopping to press insistently and caress here and there. As before, you kept guessing, and as before with time you could sense the differences, and your guessing became very accurate.

Other surprises were in store, however. You felt the chair move away from the table suddenly, and now you had one standing in front, one behind. Both sets of hands began touching you simultaneously, and the feeling was so delicious you let out a brief, soft sigh that came out almost like a moan. Then a pair of hands gripped you tightly from the back, and began pushing your lower back forward until you were seated right at the front edge of the chair. You gasped as you felt the man in front force your knees apart, stepping right up to the edge of the chair. With your back angled, your knees spread, and your bottom on the very edge of the chair, there was great pressure between the sensitive area at the top of your legs and the leg pressing insistently forward. 

Still, your competitive fire burned. You pulled your legs together, locking tightly around the man in front. Feeling the rough fabric of jeans there, you gathered yourself to say "that's Paolo in front there." You were surprised that your voice seemed calm, even to yourself.

"Well," he replied, "she continues to cheat. What can we do about this?"

"I know," said Ian's voice from behind your right ear. You felt his hands grasp your ankle and pull back, forcing your knees apart again. He firmly hooked the ankle over the bar on the side of the chair, and then you felt this being repeated on the other side. Your knees now held wide apart, he instructed you to keep those feet back.

Between the way your waist had been pushed forward, and your feet and knees pulled out, the lower portion of your dress was now pushed well up your thighs. The men stepped back and walked around the chair a few times, murmuring compliments, and once in a while changing directions. Their hands darted out to caress your arm, the top or side of your breast, your thigh, and you sensed your your hemline kept rising along with your respirations. You totally lost track of who was where with all the movement. Suddenly it all stopped, and you could feel that the leg opening of your panties was now exposed to view on your left leg. 

"Well that won't do," one of them said, and you were surprised that you weren't sure which one spoke. Still, you felt the hands on your shoulders, then trailing slowly down your chest, across your stomach, and finally to your lap. They began gathering up the dress, until the whole of your panties were revealed. You heard Ian's sharp intake of breath, as he noticed that you had worn your sexiest pair. Had you known? Then you lost that thought, as they wrapped about the elastic, and began pushing downward. You thrust your hips up and forward, allowing the panties to slide out from under you, and you gasped again as you felt them whisper down your thighs, and the quick blunting of sensation as they ran off your skin and onto the stockings, until finally they reached your knees. As the pressure continued, you felt yourself unhooking your ankles quickly, kicking off the flimsy material, and re-hooking your own ankles, not even pausing to wonder why you did so.

Then another surprise. Again, you felt the pressure of a man's legs on the inside of your thighs, which continued to move forward to rub at the junction at the top. Four hands rubbed and tickled about your upper body and your hair, but your senses were riveted to the sensations along your thighs and at their very top, as the coarse hair of unfamiliar legs roamed about. Both men had been in long pants. You should not be feeling this. Your senses were gripped by the sensation of the hands on your skin, now alive with fire, as someone began kissing you insistently. From mouth to mouth you were traded, often feeling the extra pair of lips on your sensitive skin. You began giving in to the moment, moaning deep in your throat as the knee ground away at the center of your awareness.

Again, you felt your hips being pushed forward, and at the same time you sensed the man in front slipping downward to his knees. You realized then that more than just the pants had been removed, as you felt an unfamiliar hardness poised at your opening. The small movements of your relative breathing caused it to move very slightly, making you aware of your own wetness, and your want. Not wanting to guess wrong, you leaned back your head against the chest behind you, opened your knees just another few degrees, and whispered raggedly, "I give up!" And then, as you felt him slide all the way in, you sensed that there would be no losers in this game.

Guessing Game



Victoria Spires woke to a sound, something just below her range of conscious hearing but still very real. There it was again, a sort of rustling accompanied by an almost indistinguishable creak as if someone had stepped on an old and whiny floorboard. Except there were no wooden floors in their home. They had an alarm system with ADT but nothing had triggered it. 

With that sensation that something needed looking into she leaned over and quietly woke Jack. She knew she could count on him to be conscious and ready to act simply because she had seen him do it so often back when he was in Army special operations. As she anticipated he made the jump from sleep to wakefulness in a heartbeat, thanking in her in a whisper for her concern as he reached for the .40 Smith & Wesson pistol attached to the underside of the bed frame.

Victoria would be all right, he knew, because of both her courage and the five-round Taurus revolver she kept in her bedside table. It was compact but more than enough to defend herself with its load of .38 Special +P semi-jacketed hollow points. And she knew how to use it. Jack's imediate concern was not for his wife; it was for their two children.

As he moved through the dark house lit only be the faint glow from various digital readouts on clocks and appliances Jack mulled over just how someone might have bypassed the alarm system. His pistol, a stainless steel Model 4006, carried a full magazine of 11 rounds and he always loaded an additional round in the chamber since the weapon had a thumb-operated safety. He had slid off the safety before he ever got out of bed. 

He and Victoria had two children, six-year-old Brandon with the beautiful black locks and his equally brunette sister, Morgan, who at five made up for her one-year junior status with an irrepressible humor and a determination to ask "Why?" endlessly. Jack recalled that Theodore Roosevelt was reputed by secretaries who took the trouble to count them to have often laughed three hundred times a day. He was convinced that Morgan asked "Why?" no less than that remarkable president had laughed.

Odd what you think on the way to someone else's funeral, he considered grimly as he threaded his silent way through the kitchen and into the back entrance to the hallway leading to the children's rooms. 

The vicious blow to the back of his head and a simultaneous kick to the side of his right leg took him to his knees, generating a universe of stars all inside his brain. As he struggled to rise, fighting a curtain of darkness, he lifted the pistol up and back, pointing the muzzle directly over his shoulder, intending to fire it upside down. A second hammer to his head put him out. His weapon clattered to the floor and skidded under a small table in the hall.

Half an hour later Jack awoke with a splitting headache, a throbbing knee where he had been kicked, and blinded by lights. The first thing he saw was a police officer; the first thing he heard was his wife weeping. He struggled to re-enter the world of the living as a detective helped him up and to a couch. The man waited courteously while Jack regained his bearings. A solicitous and very professional female officer held on to Victoria as she collapsed in her grief.

"Mr. Spires, I am detective Randy Marks. I am sorry to have to tell you that your son, Brandon, has been taken. We have already issued an Amber Alert and I trust we'll receive word shortly. Right now I need to talk with you about whatever details you can give me."

The Spires never saw their small son again. Grief matured sadly into resignation. Resignation gradually became a collage of distant memories, and the memories were eventually wallpapered over by life itself.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Roger Stokes, captain of the Scandinavian Cruise Lines' Caribbean Sun surveyed his realm of her bridge. He then nodded as his officer of the deck informed him that the pilot was standing by to board for steerage into the Port of Phillipsburg, Sint Maartens, the Dutch or southern half of the large West Indies island known generally as Saint Martins.

With a smile at his junior officer of the deck, he said, "Mr. Zeigler, you have the conn. The pilot will be on the bridge shortly to take us in and three tugs will berth us in our usual place. Call me if you need me...I'm outside."

With those few orders he set in motion all the activities of the great white ship for the next hour. Already he sensed a stir among the passengers as they prepared to depart the ship. He really enjoyed these calls at St. Martins or its Dutch name, Sint Maartens. Their time in port was sufficiently long for his crew and himself to enjoy time ashore on those fabulous white beaches. 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The young brunette with the shiny, shoulder-length black hair pulled her cabin door shut, waited for its solid click as the lock engaged, set her things down long enough to tie a quick ponytail and headed for the top level sun deck where nude sunbathing was the order of the day every day. 

Morgan Spires was an attractive barely-eighteen-year-old with a slender face, large brown eyes, and a wide mouth that seemed to be always smiling. At five feet and five inches of height she was as tall as her mother with a slender build that was shapely rather than skinny. She had nice legs and enjoyed displaying them. She also had the genetic gift of lovely breasts that exceeded her mother's, warranting museum exhibition.

She shifted the bag with her sunscreen and Dean Koontz' paperback novel Lightning to her left hand and gazed down at her chest, most of which was struggling valiantly to escape the tiny top. They were firm for their size, were large enough to be visible from behind when she raised her arms, and trembled as if they were mounds of honey-hued yogurt. 

Her Sassy Fox bikini, a new offering from Prism Designs, concealed absolutely nothing top and bottom, though she wore a terry cloth micro-mini wrap about her waist until she entered the sun deck above. What there was of the poor little bikini thing certainly did not even begin to cover her large dark nipples. Her bottom was actually nothing more than a vee-shaped bit of lycra that covered the lower part of a vertical belt of dense black fur above her cleft, sank into her pussy to reveal her lips, and provided a tiny string that softly crossed her anus and attached behind to the thong's belt above her delicious hard little ass.

Morgan never thought a lot about her breasts when growing up, though her buds appeared at eight and swelled steadily and enthusiastically since that time. At her young age they were simply there and she accepted them as normal. In fact, her expanding chest was anything but ordinary. At one point when Jack and Victoria were hosting a New Year's Eve dinner a close friend of Victoria's asked during a lull in the conversation, "Well, dear, when do you think you'll do something about...umm...how shall I say this... do you plan to do anything about the size of her breasts?"

Victoria searched for words with which to respond; Jack, on the other hand, saw an opening and in fine form slid into it.

"Valerie, do you mean when are we going to size down her tits or get bras that squash them to regular size?"

It was all he could do to withstand his wife's ferocious kick beneath the table. She shook her head imperceptibly, but there was no stopping her husband when he was like this.

Valerie Lawson bloomed tomato-red. "Jack, I only meant to say that...," but he cut her off.

"Oh, Val, what you really are thinking is that our daughter is barely sixteen, that she has breasts the size of jugs right now and will probably be incredibly large well before she's eighteen. Am I right?"

He said all of this with a smile and had their friend been somewhat looser in her attitude the entire thing could have been defused into a joke. But Valerie had all the flexibility of a dinner plate. She glared at Jack with a gaze that could have melted steel.

Victoria, meanwhile, was so angry and embarrassed that she would gladly have sunk out

of sight under the table if possible. As it was with their guests grinning at her husband's boorishness she launched one more vicious kick into his shins and mouthed, "Just you wait, Jack. No pussy for you for a year!"

She had seen Jack several times before when he got like this. When he was on a tear about something there was nothing she could say to slow him down. She had no intention whatever of not having sex with him; that was such a stunning experience and pleasure that the best she could do was threaten. It griped her that Jack knew it, too. What always ripped her off was the "Who, me?" expression plastered across his handsome face every single time he did something like this.

Val's husband Kent was thoroughly enjoying the mess into which his wife had carefully inserted herself and had no intention whatever of either helping her extract herself or of getting huffy at what Jack had said. Valerie had lost and knew it.

Morgan opened the door onto the top pool deck and felt the wall of ocean-scented heat envelope her like a blanket as she ambled out onto the pool apron where the chaise lounges were located. It never ceased to please her. A few sun worshippers glanced her way, started to look elsewhere and then stared back at this young girl with the great and nearly bare chest. She felt herself jiggle deliciously as she leaned over a vacant chair to toss her bag on the deck and arrange her towel.

"Zippy-down-inside" Memories

Victoria was a really special mother for a lot of reasons. One of them was that they were very close and loved each other dearly; and the other, that contrary to what a lot of moms might think and do, Victoria had always spoken easily and openly with her daughter about her young body, encouraging her to enjoy her self as a beautiful gift. She also had been quite flexible in her monitoring of Morgan's dress.

She drew in a deep breath of salty air, then undid the tiny white excuse for a bikini top and removed it. She cupped her breasts, relishing their velvety feel and weight as she freed them. It felt so sexually delicious to be topless. I really am big, she thought contentedly as she examined her shapes. The boobs were extremely large for her size and were close together, providing beautiful cleavage. Her nipples began to swell with pleasure when she moved her hands lovingly over them. She enjoyed the size of her areoles. When she wore anything with even a slightly low neckline part of her nipples were visible, and that excited her. As she applied thick, fragrant sunscreen to her body she continued her return to her past.

The Spires had always been a sensuous family in their affections for each other and in the way they displayed those affections with no hesitation when around others. By thirteen Victoria had begun to show her how to caress her breasts and enjoy the sensations rushing through her body in response. She also helped her to begin nourishing her skin with body lotion, paying special attention to her breasts, ass and anal cleft. At fifteen her mother took her to a store where she bought her daughter several form-fitting sweaters with low necklines and two beautiful lacey bras that softly cupped her daughter's young breasts at each side, creating an incredible cleavage on the already well-developed young girl. 

Morgan very clearly recalled the conversation that her mother had with her after they returned home and sat by their swimming pool.

"Mother, I really like the sweaters. Do you think they are too low?"

"Honey, they are definitely low-cut, but no, not too much. Morgan, you are already a well developed young lady. Very few girls your age have breasts the size of yours...and you can count on them to grow more before you have matured. Right now you are not as conscious of your lovely babies as you will be at this same time next year. But I want to help you learn how to do two important things: I want you to really enjoy your body, and I want you to know the art of dressing well so that while you look nice you also are excited with what you are wearing."

"Do you think my boobs are pretty? The other day Ben told me they were like mountains and Kerry said I had sweater monkeys. I don't care that much about what they think, but I thought it was silly." 

"Ohhh, yes, Baby. They are gorgeous. You are going into sixteen and already you are as large as I am. I want you to be proud of your pretty boobs. Morgan, you have been blessed with such big breasts. Most boys don't mature until they are about twenty-eight; and at first they can be very unkind to anyone who is the slightest bit different from everybody else. Later on some of them grow out of that stage. When they are so blessed that they have fathers who can teach them how to be men, then they are much more pleasant a lot earlier. You are going to have to decide whether you will allow their meanness to make you unhappy of if you will be happy with yourself, thankful for your loveliness, and get on with life."

Victoria watched as her daughter digested this wisdom, resisting her motherly urge to add more very true observations when her daughter really needed time to carefully think about what she had said.

"I want to be happy with myself," the girl said with finality." Are you and Dad happy with me?"

Victoria reached over to touch her daughter's arm. "Morgan, your father and I are totally impressed with you. You are just wonderful you! We adore the way you think and reason, you are so much fun to be around, your beliefs are pleasing to us, and last, you are one of the most beautiful young women we know." 

Her daughter quickly pulled her mother's face to her own and kissed her mouth. Victoria felt the swift but very definite insertion of Morgan's tongue between her lips, then it was gone. The look in the teenager's eyes was one of adoration and happiness.  

"You don't mind, do you, Mother?" asked the girl, obviously referring to the kiss.

"Mind? Honey, you are always such a thrill. Thank you, Love. Now, let's try one of these new tops and I'll show you several things. Which one would you like first? And, oh, you've probably guessed that I think men are the greatest, Darling. It just takes 'em a little longer to get there."

"I've kinda guessed that, Mom, after watching the way Jack acts toward you and loves you and treats you like a princess all the time."

Morgan recalled that she had selected the light blue long-sleeve sweater that was extremely soft. Victoria asked her to try on the bra. She stood before the mirror in her parents' room as Victoria gently held her boobs, settling them comfortably into the lacy soft support of the half cups. The shoulder supports were attached to each side of the bra, raising her lovely young curves, baring a portion of her large areoles and emphasizing her deep cleavage. Then Victoria helped her draw on the sweater and arrange it comfortably. Morgan's touch upon her daughter's breasts was both comforting and exciting to the girl.

"My sweet Morgan...! You are so attractive...and you are so...so large."

Morgan remembered that she was starting to become aroused. Her mother's compliments coupled with the truly pleasant feel of the bra and sweater gave her a deliciously warm tingle inside. The delicious feel of the soft sweater on the bare half of her breasts caused little electric jitters in her chest and tummy. She could not describe it very well but knew that she'd certainly like to experience it again.

"Let's look at you now," said her mother softly and with obvious pride.

She turned Morgan around by the bed and instructed her to walk over toward the mirror. The girl's chest shook gently as she took each step. Her soft curves were rounded well above the edge of the sweater in the invisible half-bra. 

"Morgan, do you see how your breasts shake when you move? That is oh, so very exciting and attractive. What do you think about what you see in the mirror?"

"Mom, I really like to see myself this way. I never knew I would look like this. It makes me feel....mmmm...kinda zippy down inside. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes, Darling, I do. It's called sexual arousal, and it is a wonderful sensation. We can talk more about that later. Something I want you to understand early in life is that you will be a lot more attractive and exciting with that lovely body of yours when you are dressed certain ways than if you are naked altogether. That may be hard to figure at times, especially because you've seen your father and me at home and at the beach and we haven't had a stitch on. But you can wear pretty dresses with high and low necklines, you can wear tubes, you'll have sweaters of all kinds, blouses that you can unbutton. And I'll take you to get some tie-tops. You will definitely like those. And there are also short skirts and dresses."

"I saw Priscilla in a tie-top the other day at the beach and I wished I had one. Her boobs aren't as big as mine but she was really pretty. Will mine show?"

Morgan recalled with a chuckle her mother's reply.

"Honey, I can't think of very many clothes that would stand a chance of hiding those gorgeous things. We'll get you some with sleeves and some without. Depending on how you tie them, Baby, you can show more or less of your chest. As your mother I would suggest that we find out how to show off those big babies without your looking tacky. I thiiinnk I can help in that department."

Morgan loved her mother for a host of reasons. Her attitude about her clothes and her willingness to help her buy pretty and exciting styles was just one.

"How would you like to go with me to the store? Just to make you feel all right I'll wear my sweater like this. In fact, let's pretend we are twins...you wear your white jeans and I'll wear mine."

Morgan giggled silently at the memory. No matter what her mother suggested, it seemed that Victoria was never hokey...well, rarely, at least. It was understood among teens that moms and dads had a 007 license to frequently be dorky along life's way. It was the task of ever-suffering teens to understand that and not be unreasonable in their expectations. Morgan sensed that because she showed responsibility in other things her mother didn't mind allowing her privileges that many parents would refuse. 

They dressed alike, her mother in a tight blue sweater and denims even tighter than her own. Her father, Jack, always said that his wife had a cute ass and that her pants were so tight if she had stuffed paper money in her hip pocket, the faces on the bills could be seen through the white fabric.

They had a grand time at the grocery store and the mall. Morgan noticed that quite a few people were staring at her and her mother, but it still didn't register quite what was creating the stir until Victoria whispered, "Honey, look in the glass windows as we walk. You'll see why people are staring."

She did so as they ambled toward the corner of Starbuck's in the mall concourse and prepared to turn toward the food court. The sweater left much of her chest open and the great curves of her breasts shook with each step, so much so that it was hard to believe she was wearing anything underneath. Her entire chest seemed to be in motion. Yet the bra was so comfortable. Before they left the mall her mother stopped by The Big Eye camera store and paid to have the photographer come out into the mall and take several pictures of the pair. 

First, they faced each other from about eight feet away and bent over, each toward the other, as if they were bowing after some contest. Their breasts fought to free themselves from the women's sweaters, and the two began to attract a small but definitely admiring crowd. Then the photographer instructed them to hug, ordinarily an act that was wasn't particularly noteworthy between two women. But when Morgan and her mother embraced warm, soft flesh swelled and nearly overflowed the revealing sweaters.




Guessing Game



On their way home she spoke excitedly to her mother. "Mom, that was really fun! You always think of the neatest things to do. Can we do it again...soon?"

"Of course we can, Love. Do you want to tell your father when he gets home? Or shall I do it?"

"I want to. And can I wear this for him?"

"Yes! What a great idea! I never have great ideas like that." She winked at the girl beside her.

And such things as these, thought Morgan as she basked in the deck chair, are why I love you the way I do, Victoria.

That night when her father returned from work Morgan could hardly wait to display herself to him. As Jack entered the front door Morgan walked out of a side room to hug him. He stopped in his tracks, dropped his briefcase in surprise and remained speechless for a few seconds.

"Dad, you always do such perfect things. Do you like my new clothes? And let me tell you about what Mom and I did this afternoon." 

In her excitement she had forgotten that nearly half her chest was revealed in the low-cut sweater because it was so very comfortable. Victoria noted this absence of awareness, however, and made a mental note to compliment her daughter on it. Being natural was the key to enjoyable sensuality; she wanted Morgan to develop that trait.

"Hold it! Hold on, you gorgeous female. Am I allowed to touch, or must I just look?"

"Mr. Jack Spires," said Morgan, falling into step with the game, "so far as I am concerned, you can always look and touch. Do you really like it?"

Jack became serious. "Yes, Morgan, I really do like your new sweater, and do I see the faint lines of a sexy bra under there? Yep! I like that, too. And what about those beautiful curves? In fact, my professional opinion is that you, Morgan Spires, are a knockout."

She had rushed into his arms and flung her own about his neck. His thick ponytail brushed her hands as she held tight to this father she adored. 

"I think that you and you mother are absolute...ah...hmmm...what's the word? O, yes! Sexpots. You two are definitely sexpots. And I love it, I love you, and I hope you'll wear some more of these incredible sweaters. They are perfect on you, O great incredible daughter!"

"Mr. Spires," said his daughter with a coy expression and a definitely lascivious glint in her eyes, "do you wish to examine the merchandise? I mean, you can do so while I'm under the watchful eye of Mrs. Spires. She'll keep you in check, Sir!" This was followed with a shake of her chest and a girlish giggle.

"Oh! I've been driven beyond what I can bear!" laughed her father as Morgan turned playfully into his arms, facing her mother, and leaned back against this exciting man. Jack put his arms about her, cupped her breasts and tenderly massaged them in her new sweater. 

She immediately put her hands over his, pressing them into her swelling white flesh as she turned her face upward. She sighed joyfully at his admiration of her and the ease with which he moved about in her world.

Morgan never forgot that sweet introduction to the gradual development of her sensuous nature, particularly since her mother and father were so complimentary. Victoria encouraged her into tube tops and very light sun dresses, for the tubes displayed her lovely arms and shoulders and the light, low-cut dresses provided opportunity to experience the arousal of not wearing a bra and enjoying her breasts as they shook with her movements. Moreover, Morgan had a deep dimple on the back of each of her shoulders. Open dresses displayed these to perfection. 

Then there were the open-tip bras that were heaven-sent for wearing under sweaters and presenting a sensuous picture in public. Victoria taught her daughter how to be casual in her actions and movements, enjoying the excitement of walking and bending naturally to display much of her beautiful chest without seeming tacky or obvious as she did so. Her youthful appearance coupled with her continuing remarkable development added to her sensuality. 

At sixteen Morgan asked her mother if she could begin to grow her nails long, and Victoria agreed. Her mother had been working for Prism Designs, a company that made attractive and sexy clothes. Some of Victoria's friends who worked there allowed their nails to grow extremely long. Victoria had been developing hers for four years and they were now more than three inches in length.

Morgan thought they were the sexiest thing in the world...except for her mom's breasts and her dad's beautiful long black wavy hair. Since he had retired from the military Jack had let his hair grow; it now reached well below his shoulders in gorgeous jet black waves. He didn't have any gray in it at all. 

Memories of Sweet Touches

She returned to the present and looked with increasing sexual heat at her babies as she called them, now coated with an oily sheen from her sunscreen and perspiration. With her own lengthening talons painted a delicious wet red she caressed her breasts in a fashion that resembled two large spiders hovering over the great mounds, delicately stroking her nipples with red-tipped feet. Suddenly Morgan felt a tingle followed by sweet contractions as a pair of exquisite little orgasms gaily made their way through her lower abdomen, bathing her pussy with cream. 

She started to chuckle but instead gasped with audible pleasure as she felt the release of cum. She realized that she'd have to remove the lower vestige of the Sassy Fox string bikini now that it was completely wet. 

Morgan tried a sly glance to each side to see if anyone had noticed what she was doing. She jumped with surprise as the beautiful brunette on her left smiled brightly and whispered, "That was lovely, wasn't it? I'm sorry, but I could hardly miss it...you were enjoying yourself so much."

"I...uh, I'm sorry," Morgan began. Total failure. "I didn't mean to...," she tried again, then when the brunette laughed she resigned herself to the fact that the girl had caught her arousal and watched through the entire event. "Yes. Yes, it was very nice, indeed."

She noted with interest the girl's lovely body that was every bit as luscious as her own. It seemed strange that such a beauty would be topless yet wear yellow lycra shorts instead of a thong or a bikini, but she quickly returned to her sensuous reverie. 

Since her early teens Morgan and Victoria had been casually intimate in their touches and their enjoyment of being physically close as mother and daughter. During the nights while she and her parents watched television together Victoria, at her daughter's request, would drape her arm over her shoulder and with her fingernails trace designs over the girl's arms and breasts, at times tickling her nipples with her talons. Morgan would giggle, sigh and relax into her mother's embrace while Victoria in turn was being fondled by her husband.

Jack and Victoria fully expected that their daughter would want to end the casual practice as she moved into her older teen years and they were prepared for such a decision, but she did not. Much to their surprise she separated these times into periods when she was alone with Jack and others when she desired intimate times with Victoria. Jack treated his daughter with tenderness and never acted as if doing so was some great event. She had described this to several girl friends who gasped as if some immutable law of the universe had been breached. 

To Morgan it had always been simply a sweet and intimate family custom in which her parents expressed their love for her. There was no doubt that it was exciting. The first time her mother's claws passed over her nipples she felt a stirring within that defied description. The same happened when Jack held her and caressed her. Not till later did she mention this to her parents; then they explained to her the meaning of sexual arousal. They urged her to treasure it, to enjoy it and look forward to it, but Jack and Victoria wanted her to think of it entirely as an affectionate indicator of their closeness.

Morgan became enamored with the odd phenomenon of boys, had many friends with whom she enjoyed the usual girl activities, and was an excellent soccer player. Victoria knew as a mother does that their daughter had had been intimate with two of her boyfriends, but she did not broach the subject and Morgan's interest waned quickly in the two young men. A very close friendship with a girlfriend lasted much longer, however. Though neither she nor Patrice Lafayette made an issue of their obvious affection for each other, Victoria had a pretty good idea that when the girls went to the movies, to parties and to the beach they were exploring intimacies. The fact that when they were in the Spires' own pool and yard they were always topless and touched each other frequently gave evidence that something exciting existed between them. 

This didn't trouble Victoria. She had her own female friendships that involved sexual affections. Jack did not mind; he was secure in her love for him. Moreover, Morgan knew of several times such as the celebration of Virginia Holton's and Jason's union when her mother and father shared the affections of women in each other's presence.

She and Patrice, a dark and lovely girl from the island of St. Thomas with an enviable British accent, were still very, very close and Morgan intended to visit her once her vacation with her parents was over and she returned home. Patrice had called and written of her desire that they see each other and in her last letter invited Morgan to her new home on Barbados.

Morgan turned over, reached behind herself to apply additional sunscreen to her back, butt and thighs, then rested on her forearms. Although she could do so, Morgan did not often lie on her stomach because her breasts were so large. She wiggled her hips and moved her torso to feel her heavy breasts sway. The nipples traced a light pattern over the towel on which she lay, sending little electric impulses through her flesh. 

Once more she bathed herself in the sensuous memories of the way her parents had reared her. Many of her friends could hardly sit still for wanting to get out from under their parents' supervision; Morgan was another breed of cat. The memories of days with her parents were happy ones, exciting ones, and as she neared eighteen very sensuous ones. This wandering through her thoughts never failed to arouse her sexually and was, in fact, one of her most precious times alone.

Jack and Victoria never hid their sexuality from their daughter. They were not crude, but ever since she could remember they had caressed each other, swam partially clothed or in nothing at all in their pool with their daughter watching, and even walked the beaches on vacations with Victoria wearing only a brightly colored monokini and her dad a thong because his two women insisted that he do so.

Not many men wore those at the resorts and on the beaches where they vacationed, Morgan recalled. Most wore baggies or what she considered hideous cargo pants at the beach and poolside. Jack, however, wasn't like any dad she'd ever met. He was every bit as sexy as her mother and the two of them had a grand time enjoying it. Morgan developed her attitude of sexuality from this lusty, tender attitude and practice by the two people she loved most in this world.

Her dad was a precious man, she thought. He was strong and his muscles flowed beautifully over his body. He wasn't odd like the body builders she had seen. He was normal, but he was better than that, too, shapely, powerful. And he let his hair grow. None of her friends' fathers did that, and she enjoyed that fact as well as her friends' reactions to Jack's head of beautiful thick black hair that reached to the middle of his back in a rich fall of shiny waves and curls. When he was with his family at home and during casual times he unbound his hair and brushed it out. Most of their friends and even strangers who'd had occasion to remark about it thought that except for his musculature Jack resembled a woman from behind because of that gorgeous thick wavy hair. Most men did not grow hair that long, not because they wouldn't if given the chance, but because their bodies simply were not genetically wired to do so. 

As she grew older Morgan realized that she became sexually aroused when he left it unbound to fall in waves about his face and in a beautiful heavy cloak that, from behind, concealed the entire breadth of his shoulders. And Jack had wide, strong shoulders. At the beach and in their backyard when he was wearing a thong and that gorgeous black mane hung loose, concealing most of his back, except for his strong legs he really did resemble a woman in certain ways. He also had very little body hair; his skin was smooth and quite soft to her touch. He did have a heavy black growth of underarm hair that complemented his wavy locks, and Morgan thought it was quite sexy. She recalled that even as a young teen she had wanted to play with it and her father would lie on his back with his arms above his head to allow her. She was intrigued by its length; he enjoyed the sexy feel of his daughter's fingers dancing through his fur.

At work he always used a band to make a ponytail, something that seemed to thicken the size of the hair hanging down his back. His ponytail wasn't just a thin tail. It broadened into a huge and lovely dark mass. Her girlfriends all had said something on the order of, "Honey, I would just love to get my hands on your father for a weekend. First I'd start by burying my fingers in that gorgeous hair of his...then I'd...." They would trail off to silence.

She always replied with, "Uh huh...you want to get your hands in his hair and then...then...?"

Of course, they never finished their wish, but everybody knew what the rest meant. Secretly, Morgan felt exactly the same way. She was just more of a diplomat and said nothing that would give her friends ammunition.

For her graduation she turned the tables on all of her friends and certainly her parents. She invited her mother and father out on a date...separately. She dated Victoria on the eve of her birthday, and she dated Jack the next evening. 

Those were two nights she would never forget as long as she lived, nor would she ever harbor any regret. And neither would Jack and Victoria.

A Graduation Date With Victoria

She asked her mother to accompany her to the Weaver's Loft, a delightfully casual and very fine restaurant with a small dance floor and a small but skilled ensemble. Victoria wore a long sleeve short black dress that was so extremely soft it exuded sensuality to the touch. Her tanned, muscled legs were displayed to perfection, and Morgan gave up trying to keep her mother from watching her gape at them. Other than the dress, Morgan could tell that she didn't have a stitch on.

In turn the eighteen year-old wore a mint green calf-length sleeveless dress, the neckline of which cut beneath her breasts, and a transparent white long-sleeve top beneath the dress. Her breasts were marvelously displayed through the diaphanous fabric, gently caressing her babies, as she referred to them. Her bareness excited Morgan with that sexual thrill she recalled from childhood when she first experienced mysterious, delicious sensations between her thighs at the forward apogee as she swung vigorously back and forth in her backyard swings. That luscious experience had become more and more frequent as she matured.

Forever afterward when she shared it with her friends she found that date with her mother difficult to describe with anything other than superlatives. Victoria was actually startled when her daughter appeared at the door of her and Jack's bedroom and knocked.

"Victoria, are you ready?"

"Yes, Honey. Let me get this bag and I'll...." Her voice trailed off to silence when mother saw daughter standing in the doorway. Her mature child was stunning in her cool green dress draped with her lush black hair. Morgan's see-through blouse displayed her gorgeous breasts to perfection. Her attractive spike-heel shoes produced an effect of a very mature young lady. 

"Dear heavens," she murmured. "You are simply gorgeous, Morgan!" Privately she thought, my daughter is a total traffic-stopper. She is absolutely delicious. Then she realized what she had just said to herself and colored with guilty surprise at her lascivious remark.

"Mother, are you all right?" asked Morgan, concerned at Victoria's sudden redness of face for no reason whatever.

"Oh! Oh, yes, Morgan. I...I'm sorry. It's just that you are so absolutely lovely and sexy in that dress that I...I thought...." And she actually ended up saying nothing at all. She kicked herself mentally and thought, Way to go, Mom. You are sexually rattled by your daughter and you act as if you were thirteen.

Her daughter reached for her hand, raised it to her lips and kissed it. Then Morgan held the hand as she stroked the four-inch talons of her fingernails. Very quickly she compared her own steadily lengthening nails to the stunning red hooks of her mother and was pleased with her progress.

"Victoria, you are simply amazing in that dress. It's because of you that I really, really like women with muscles. I think they are beautiful. Your legs are legendary. And I want you to know that I can tell you haven't got a thing on under that tasty little black dress."

She eyed her mother with something more in her eyes than a daughter's simple admiration.

"And you, my precious Morgan.... Someone is going to eat you tonight."

Then she realized what she had said in her double entendre and she reddened once more.

This time Morgan caught it and replied, "Oh, I really hope so. I truly do."

Morgan had not released her mother's right hand as she stroked the incredible fingernails that hooked so perfectly and resembled the weapons of an eagle. As she stared into her mother's eyes Morgan placed both her mother's hands on her breasts and moved them about ever so gently. Victoria felt the plump nipples trace a pattern in the palms of her hands. She felt herself moisten delicately between her bare legs.

Then Morgan released her mother's hands and allowed them to fall. She drew Victoria's face near and kissed her mouth, darting her tongue between the red lips as she did so. With that she took her mother's hand, led her through the front door after activating the alarm, and opened the door of her Toyota Highlander.

Morgan ordered for them at The Loft, then gazed at her mother over the taper in the center of their table. She reached out both hands for those of the woman across from her, folded her own into a ball and indicated that she wanted Victoria to enclose them in her talons.

As other diners stared without embarrassment at the amazing four-inch fingernails Morgan spoke quietly. "Victoria, thank you for being my date tonight. And that is what you are. Mother, you don't realize it, but I have been in love with you for a while now. I know that you and Daddy have always been very careful with me to love me without limits and to avoid any unwise or harmful acts. But I am eighteen now, I am getting ready to enter college, and you need to know some things."

Victoria was quiet during this explanation from her daughter. When Morgan finished her mother remained silent for a few seconds to indicate that she had heard and was taking her daughter's thoughts seriously. She was well aware that her next words held great weight for the lovely young woman opposite her and would either encourage the teen or most likely terminate what she as the girl's mother had longed for in silence.

"Darling," she finally began in a voice so low that Morgan strained to hear the first words, "please tell me. I believe you will be quite surprised and, I sincerely hope, pleased when you finish."

Morgan heard the words but she was so intent on what she wanted to express that their weight did not settle in on her heart until later that evening.




Guessing Game



"Mother, since I was little you and Daddy would put your arms around me like you did each other when we sat together watching television or on the deck or anywhere we all sat together. And do you remember how you both used to open my blouse or my nightie and touch my breasts like Daddy did yours?"

In the warm sun of the top deck of the cruise ship Morgan smiled as she recalled the calming and sweet touches of her parents, touches that reassured her, comforted her, and aroused her in a fashion that she did not then understand.

From across the table Victoria had nodded with a tender and faraway expression. 

"You never took advantage of me. You and Daddy taught me what I had to have to live as a credible woman in a world like this. At the same time you began to share intimate little things in a slow but gradually increasing way, things that told me about your love for each other and your love for me. I remember one afternoon when I was sixteen and we had rented that beach house on Sanibel Island Daddy and I went for a walk along the beach. You were going to join us later but I don't think you got there because a storm came up, we had to run back to the house and you didn't want to get out in the coming flood."

Victoria had laughed. "Oh, I remember that! You and Jack came running in looking like two drowned rats and about as guilty as a couple of bank robbers. You left the house wearing a bikini top and came back with those sweet jugs bare and bouncing like crazy. Your father left wearing swim trunks and returned in a thong that was so skimpy I could barely find it on him."

"I knew you noticed, Mom, but you never said anything. So Daddy and I thought we'd see if we had gotten away with being nekkid on the beach." She emphasized 'nekkid' with a deep Southern accent, knowing that it referred to being not merely without clothing but sexy- bare in public and quite proud of it.

"You two thought you were so smart," Victoria laughed. "I know good and well what you two did. When you were out of sight from me the two of you stopped, you shed that top in record time and your father got rid of those trunks for that microscopic thing he still calls a thong to this day. It might actually be one if it wasn't see-through. He could just as well wear nothing at all. I'm sure the people who saw you two wondered about the man and the sweet young thing who were showing off everything the Lord ever gave them."

"I must admit that we got some stares, actually, a lot of stares, from people out there. Every woman we passed ogled Daddy, every guy looked like he wanted to eat me, and then...," and her voice sank to a conspiratorial whisper, "...there was that group of men who stared at Daddy and women who stared at me. I was so excited I could hardly stand it."

"See, see what happens when I let the two of you out of sight without a chain? Both of you get out of control. You take advantage of the situation because you are two gorgeous, luscious, edible showoffs that I can't trust as far as I can throw our car!"

The two women sat at their table and ate in silence for several moments. Then Morgan spoke once more.

"Daddy was always a gentleman with me, Mother. That day we both had fun being sexy and wearing next to nothing. He was standing in the surf when I walked up and jumped into his arms. He grabbed my legs and held me there. And then I kissed him on the mouth like you always did. You know, sliding my tongue into his mouth. He was so sweet and sexy about it. He kissed me in return and then held me tight. My boobs squashed against that hard chest of his while he ran his hands over my back. He didn't touch my butt but he held on to me and we walked into the water until it supported us. Then he held my bottom and we stayed that way for a long time, talking and laughing and whispering. I could feel him...he was so hard. I asked him to put me down and I turned my back to him because I wanted him to hold my babies."

"And did he? Honey, I should hope so."

"At ease, Mother. He did. It was very sweet and very sexy to me. And I realized then something that I've never said to either of you. I knew that one day I would be in love with him like you are. Does that anger you, Victoria?"

The use of her first name told Victoria that her daughter was indeed serious.

"No, Honey, it doesn't. But go on."

"Over the last two years I have dated and had fun with friends and even made love with several. But always behind it all I knew that I was drawn to the two of you. Now we are here together because I wanted you to know this...and because I want to know if this will go on from here."

The older woman sat quietly, staring at her daughter, then her eyes misted.

"Morgan, you cannot know how much I want us to go on from here. Yes, I am in love with you, I'm in love with my daughter. And I'll tell you something you do not know, Honey. Your father is in love with you, too. We've wanted you as well. It was all a matter of waiting for you to mature."

Morgan recalled that she had been unable to answer this for a least a minute. She had felt the relationship growing between her and Victoria, particularly with the delicate verbal hints and brief touches in recent months. But Jack had indicated nothing except his continuing deep love for his daughter. Yes, they had done risqué things in public and even when they were together alone. One thing she had always prized about her relationship with her father was the way he dated her once a month, month-in-and-month-out, year after year without fail since she had turned thirteen. Each time had been a means of building their bond, of sharing joys and fears, and of his encouraging her as she grew to womanhood. But he had never done or said anything to reveal what Victoria had just described.

Her heart jumped with an excitement she both relished and feared.

"Mother," she said after digesting this revelation, "will you sleep with me tonight?"

"Yes, yes I will. Shall we go somewhere special for the night or back home?"

"I want this to be at home. Can you explain to Daddy that this is 'ladies' night out-and- in'?"

"I believe your father can handle this surprise, Darling."

"Do you think that it will...will...umm, what am I trying to say?"

"Do I think our being together tonight will cause Jack to change toward you, Morgan? Is that what you're asking?"

"Yes."

"No, Dear. Your father is not like that. His affection for the two of us doesn't hang by a thread on a little tack in the wall of his heart. There are some things I've gathered about his love for you as time has passed. I'll tell you one day soon. And although this is our night together, I want to help you plan your date night with him. Let's make this the most thrilling night since he and I were married, shall we?"

"You doll, Mother. Yes. Help me take that beautiful man by surprise."

Following a delicious dinner made all the more so by the ongoing caresses each woman shared with the other and their dancing that bordered on the licentious, Victoria and Morgan returned home. They undressed and swam together nude before going to bed for a night of love-making. Jack had moved to the guest bedroom where he undid his hair and brushed it out. He undressed, lay nude in the darkness and felt his cock harden slowly as he enjoyed the feel of his wavy hair surrounding his face. 

He knew what the two women were doing and found it so arousing that he had to restrain himself frequently from a premature orgasm just to prolong the luscious fires and contractions in his belly and thighs. He was clean of all hair below his waist and enjoyed the velvet sensation of his smooth flesh. He positioned his balls down between his thighs and laid his fat cock on top of them where it throbbed gently, full of blood and mirroring the beat of his heart. He caressed his length softly, relishing his size and warmth and playing with his now-tender crown. 

Jack was never embarrassed for his emotions about his penis. He didn't act like a pompous ass, never considered himself the Lord's gift to women, and in fact was usually rather retiring in nature. Not wimpy, just a quiet and gracious man. He had exercised for most of his life and had a beautiful body. With a beautiful cock and balls. It was long, deliciously large in circumference when he was hard and attractively veined. He had enjoyed making love with himself for years. His wife was his cheerleader-in-chief when it came to this sexy pleasure.

When he heard Morgan cry out during his wife's lovemaking with her he moved his fingers more firmly along beneath the fat organ until the gentle contractions became numerous and he released himself to his climax. He sighed aloud in semi-darkness as he spurted into the space above his body. The long, heavy string fell back upon his cock and hand, making both slippery and sticky. A second followed and shot back up his abdomen to fall across his navel and waist. A series of hot blobs flowed out over the tender head of his shaft, creating a delightful mess on his hand and abdomen. 

Jack continued his private affections, producing softer spurts of warm fluid until he was completely dry and exhausted. He lifted his right hand and in the half light could see a heavy streamer of cum suspended from his thumb and forefinger. Slowly, carefully in order to enjoy the sensuous moment he lifted the string to his mouth and laid it upon his tongue. He savored the taste of his cream, then swallowed it. He smiled into the darkness as he thought of how he enjoyed the feel of cream on his skin. 

His wife and daughter would remain with each other the entire night, an event that pleased him greatly. 

A Graduation Date With Jack

As Morgan recalled it, the next day was Saturday and Jack hung around the house feeling like the fifth wheel on a fancy car. His wife and daughter appeared at eight o'clock, waved brightly to him as if he were from the pool maintenance company, and fixed breakfast for themselves. Both women chattered and giggled between themselves, at times sounding more like chickens in a coop. 

"You two must really have had a grand old time last night," he muttered grouchily to himself. He pulled up his swimming trunks, rearranged his cut-off shirt, re-tied his pony tail, and set off to mow the back yard. 

Victoria and their daughter stepped up to their swimming pool, removed their tops and plunged into the cool water, emerging as if they were sounding whales with much screaming and covered generously with goosebumps.

"Honey," said Victoria with a laugh as she glanced at her husband huffily guiding the self-propelled Snapper mower, "I think we'd better pay some attention to that lovely hunk of a man out in the yard. If he shoves that mower any harder he'll foul the belt on that transmission and that'll really make him mad."

Mother and daughter emerged from the pool and, clad only in monokinis, jiggled their way out into the yard where Jack was now sweating as if he'd never get another chance in his life to do so. It also occurred to him, playfully of course, that no mere teenager had a right to breasts the size of his daughter's, despite the fact that she aroused him greatly. Morgan had for years titillated him with her far-more-than-generous chest and this never failed to please him. Morgan would find some off-the-wall reason to bend over when she was nearby to show her breasts in low blouses and sweaters, or she would brush his arm or hand as she kissed him before going somewhere. She took every opportunity to push out her chest when wearing clingy tops. And she never failed to ask him how she looked before heading out the door with friends, wearing something tight with no bra in order to display her large, dark nipples.

He was always aroused by the memories of their dates through the years. He doubted he could ever explain to his daughter just how much they meant to him as her parent or how sweet they had been. Some of the dates had been just a simple dinner together and then a return home. Several times he took her out-of-town when he met with a client, and he introduced her with great pride. To Morgan these had been especially precious times because they indicated just how much her father thought of her. 

There were nights when they had pizza and went to a movie. Morgan always insisted that they sit together in one of the oversize seats in the Riverchase 24 Cinema, and she would pull his arm around her shoulders. Before long his daughter would move his hand down onto her breast, which he noted was always bare under her top, and lead his fingers to her nipple. Despite the fact that his arm eventually became numb from cramped blood flow in this awkward position, she was determined that he hold and fondle her breast the entire time. When they left she would gaze at him with an expression of mixed affection, amusement and pleasure. He knew that she was quite aware of her effect upon him.

"My lovely husband," shouted Victoria over the din of the muffled lawnmower, "can we talk with you?"

As an added incentive she and Morgan shook their shoulders to make their breasts sway, knowing it was one of the things that never failed to get Jack's attention.

He pulled back the throttle lever on the six-horsepower Briggs-and-Stratton engine and it stuttered into silence.

"What do you two want of the household slave?" Jack asked testily.

"Oh, just a little recognition and affection, a bit of sexual motivation, a public display of nudity, a flash of your lovely fat cock while standing in front of the house, that sort of very inexpensive but significant show of interest in your two women." 

Victoria smirked with self-satisfaction as she watched the expression on her husband's face. Beside her Morgan bent over slightly to brush off an invisible bug from her leg, allowing her huge young breasts to sway heavily as her father stared.

Jack glared first at his daughter, then at his wife.

"Oh, so you want something, do you?"

He was trying mightily to conceal the smile snatching at the corners of his mouth. It was a losing battle. His wife moved around behind him and put her long talons about his throat, interlocking them in front as she rubbed her breasts against his back. His daughter simultaneously moved toward him from the front, pressing her breasts against his chest and winding her arms about his neck.

"Okay, I surrender. I am a hot, sticky working guy sandwiched between two gorgeous, mostly naked women. Am I supposed to do something normal now?"

"Mmmm," began Morgan. "You could kiss each one of us and we'll be nice. Or you could put your hands on my babies and hold me and I'll go out with you tonight. Your wife and I had a wonnnnderful time together last night."

His newly graduated daughter gazed at him with laughter and a smoldering fire in her brown eyes.

"And just because you promise to take me out I'm supposed to be a nice guy with a good disposition?"

"That's the plan, you gorgeous man," whispered his wife into his ear.

"That's right, you sexy, delicious man," replied his daughter with a sassy grin as she jerked his pony-tail."

"Okay! Sounds great to me," Jack laughed.

"I think now is a good time for you to go in and shower, wash that lovely hair of yours, and let me show you what you can wear tonight on our date," responded his daughter before she kissed him. "If we start now you'll have time to let your hair dry in the sun because I want you to wear it long tonight."

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Morgan felt the flutter of sexual desire as she enjoyed the Caribbean sun. That night had been perfect. Beyond memorable. 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

She and her father had gotten ready for their date over the span of that afternoon several weeks ago, and since they had plenty of time it was an enjoyable experience. She led him into his and Victoria's bedroom where she selected a black pullover shirt and soft gray slacks with plain black rounded-toe western boots.

"You will be simply delicious in this," she said with a lascivious smile.

Then while he showered, carefully dried his hair, and allowed Victoria to gently brush it in the sunlight, she considered her own clothing for the evening. She brought out a short gray jersey dress with long sleeves and a wide, loose neckline. Next came black spike heels with a matching handbag. The only jewelry she wore was a black velvet choker with a one-half carat emerald in an old, filigreed setting suspended on a short silver chain.

Morgan bathed, perfumed herself, and lightly brushed her hair. Then she pulled on the gray dress. It felt simply heavenly, its softness caressing her naked body as if she were royalty. She wore neither bra nor panties and her thighs glistened smoothly below the extremely short hemline. Her young breasts filled the soft fabric, swelling the neckline almost to overflowing. 

Morgan stood before her mirror inspecting herself before finally going to meet her father. She felt electrified, excited, sexually aroused and at peace all at the same time. Her evening with her mother had been thrilling and satisfying beyond her dreams; now she and her father were going to dinner together and then....

Victoria entered the bedroom, breathed a sigh of desire and envy, and kissed her daughter gently on her cheek. "You are incredibly lovely, Honey," she breathed into Morgan's ear. "You will undoubtedly rattle his bars so that he'll never forget this night."

"Thank you, Mother." Then she turned and walked into the hall to meet Jack.

She found the most wonderful man in her life. He stood quietly, his wavy hair framing his face and cascading over his shoulders. His strong body shaped perfectly the black shirt and gray slacks. He smiled almost shyly at his daughter as she approached.

Morgan was a vision of sensuality and beauty. He could see beneath the thin, soft dress the shape of her black muff, thick enough to press lightly against the dress and raise the surface. Her chest trembled as she moved toward him. 

Jack felt himself become firm in a slow and deeply erotic process that made him wonder just how long he could constrain himself. His daughter was so lovely and so incredibly sensual. He had to tear away his eyes from the display of her breasts, rounded tanned flesh with stunning cleavage, half bare with arcs of her great dark nipples peeking from beneath the soft dress.

"You are gorgeous," he said simply.

"And you are the most beautiful man I know," she responded with a brilliant smile. 

The scene was etched deeply into her memory and as she lay in the sun she quickly became aroused. A gentle flow of stickiness lubricated the folds between her legs as she recalled their conversation, images of the man before her, and the feel of being naked underneath her soft dress. He was her father, but at this moment he was so very much more. 

The heavy waves of his long black hair curled sensuously about his face, almost concealing his left eye, and fell over his shoulders in a cascade for which most women would happily die. With respect to the rich, thick shiny texture of his lovely mane her father was almost feminine. Morgan longed to bury her face in that dense growth that fell like a black cloak down his back.

His shoulders and arms were graceful in their strength. His gray slacks had a sharp crease and hung straight down without a break over his Dan Post boots. The faint scent of something sensual and lush floated past her nostrils, adding more erotic images to the invisible, unbroken stream already flowing in stark and graphic detail through her mind. 

Morgan glanced at his trousers and noted the definite and tantalizing lump between Jack's thighs. Her father had an absolutely beautiful penis that she had seen before on many occasions. His and Victoria's partial and complete nudity in both private and public venues had contributed to her own lusty nature, and neither parent had been reluctant to have their daughter see them. His penis was long, fat and, she thought out loud to her mother, perfectly delicious. He had removed all his fur and the smooth tanned flesh of his cock and balls contrasted markedly with his gorgeous mane of hair and the black hair beneath his arms.




Guessing Game



As she had matured the intensity of Morgan's pleasure in viewing, loving and respecting both parents had increased until she had no doubt about the matter: she wanted to make love with her father and mother. At some point in her mid-teens she experienced something that was both incredibly erotic and memorable. It was as if she had shed her skin for another and had received along with the new flesh recognition of her own incredible sexual attractiveness and a desire for her mother and father to touch and handle her physically and at great length.

She spoke of it to Victoria who was so tender and understanding of her daughter that Morgan never forgot the experience. If anything had proven to her that she could entrust her mother with every intimate subject and emotion that was it. 

One afternoon she and Victoria had met for a "Mother / Daughter Touch-In" starting out with lunch at The Banana Skiff on the Intra-coastal Waterway and ending in a casual afternoon in their backyard swimming pool. 

Morgan had worn a short blue San Tropéz blouse that hung from her breasts and covered just a little of her tummy. Straw-colored sandals and the tightest pair of white denim short shorts Victoria had ever seen completed her daughter's outfit. It seemed of no consequence to Morgan that half of her delectable, tanned bottom was completely bare and in front the shorts had drawn into her pussy. Black tendrils of her bush crept delicately from around the pure white denim of the shorts. Victoria was so aroused by her daughter's casual display that at one point during their walk along the quay she snapped photos of the teenager from front and behind.

Morgan recalled that her mother was certainly no prude that afternoon. Victoria wore a loose-fitting peasant style blouse with long sleeves and a very low neckline. She waited the entire afternoon for the woman's breasts to simply bounce out of the thin, opaque top. Her curves were visible to everyone they met. Victoria wore a lemon-hued pair of nicely fitting slacks. It seemed to Morgan that regardless of what the woman wore, it displayed her marvelous ass to perfection. 

As her mother and she had anticipated, the afternoon was quite an erotic interlude. On their slow amble along the waterfront Victoria explained to her daughter the significance of her "skin-shedding" experience and the girl's incredible sexual attractiveness. She had some difficulty getting Morgan to grasp that the more natural and casual she acted and carried herself the more intense was her attraction. 

"Honey, you have been blessed with a gorgeous body. It may be hard to understand now, but I promise you, Baby, that you are more attractive with some clothes on than you will be in the nude...in most cases. You and I have talked often about sweaters, loose clothing, see-through and tight clothing, partial clothing, stylish clothes, tacky clothes and a host of other things. You are as desirable as you are because though you may not grasp all of this yet, still you act this way. 

"That feeling you had of seeming to understand yourself and recognizing your exciting desires is part of a young woman's maturing. Your father and I honestly are thankful that you feel that way about us. We have become more and more delighted at your development through the years, and as time passes you may find that other sweet happenings take place."

Morgan remembered asking her mother, "What sweet happenings?"

"Oh, very personal, very delightful things with your father and me and with others whom you love."

Victoria smiled at her daughter with an expression of affection and desire. Morgan recalled thinking that maybe she understood her mother and that such things would be most enjoyable, indeed.

As she lay warm and aroused in the sun by the ship's pool, Morgan immersed herself in memories of that night with Jack. She asked him to drive and he first opened the passenger side door for her, staring without embarrassment at her great breasts as they threatened to escape during her movements to seat herself. 

When he was seated Jack leaned over across the brake lever and shifter to kiss his daughter. She reached for his cheek with her right hand as she darted her tongue into his mouth and flipped it about. She felt her right breast slowly emerge from her dress, and this time her father brought his hand up to cup it, gently thumbing her nipple as he did so.

"May I compliment you on something? I like to see part of your nipples in your low dresses and sweaters. They are beautiful, big and dark, and you excite me, Darling."

The warmth of his hand and the light, unassuming manner with which he felt her breast was both erotic and very comforting to the teen. She felt cherished by this wonderful man and suddenly realized that she harbored no reluctance to please him in whatever he might desire. 

"Thank you, Jack," she whispered as he moved his hand to the key in the ignition slot and turned it. The engine caught and settled into a quiet idle. Morgan recalled glancing down at her dress to see that her chest was almost completely revealed. She would have difficulty tonight keeping things properly arranged. She smiled with anticipation and straightened her dress to cover what little it could manage.

"I hope you understand, beautiful woman, that I am not at all interested tonight in your remaining covered regardless of wherever we are. I think that dress is incredibly lovely on you and so sexy that I just may not be able to keep my hands off."

"Well, I certainly hope that you don't try to keep them off, Sir!" Her sweet laughter echoed through their car like audible sunshine.

She was completely immersed in the memory of her recent evening with her father and the enjoyment they shared with the complete approval of her mother. Her eyes were closed and she was oblivious to everyone else on the sun deck as her hands roved lightly over her naked body. 

Jack and she went to a very fine restaurant that provided dancing on a nicely designed patio overlooking the water. The two spoke not of father and daughter subjects but of those intimate things that pass between adults. He described to her the details of his courtship with Victoria and the excitement of their life together before they were married. This graduated to their joy at the birth of their children, Brandon and herself, and the years of difficulty they experienced in the aftermath of her brother's kidnapping. 

"Jack," she asked without fear now that they spoke of things personal and deep, "did you and Victoria ever love Brandon more than me or feel like you had lost the more important one of us?"

He thought before he replied, well aware that this was one of those times when a well-considered response set the tone for most of what followed.

"No, Darling, we never loved either of you better. That is a recipe for terrible events in the life of any family and if it takes place early in life that sort of conduct by parents can do irreparable harm to children. That night someone took your brother was an awful experience we hope you'll never have to know; but you actually became dearer to us than ever, Morgan. You never were a substitute for him...you've always been just wonderful Morgan Spires to Victoria and me. "

He was quiet for fully a minute, then he continued.

"We probably became somewhat more protective of you than we were before, though we tried very hard to not overdo it. Whether the loss of Brandon had anything to do with the way in which the three of us became so intimate is hard to say. To Victoria and me we have simply enjoyed our love and likewise enjoyed being open to you in virtually everything we've done. We've considered you to be far more mature than many people your age and that explains why we've permitted you to do things, wear clothing, and go places that other parents would refuse outright."

"Do you realize, Jack, that all of that has brought me to the place where I am in love with you and Mother?"

Jack concentrated on her serious face. It seemed like forever, but he could tell that his daughter appreciated his care. 

"Honey, I know that our love for you has always been steady and deep. Moreover, Morgan, it has been aside from any other desire we have felt toward you as time has passed. In recent months a lot of emotions in each of the three of us have become clear. Victoria is in love with you...and so am I."

This time Morgan said nothing but stared at him with an expression of tenderness and desire. "Does that make you feel uneasy, Jack...to feel this way toward your daughter? I mean, it's not exactly typical of most families."

Morgan leaned toward him from her chair to his right, and she took his hand in hers. She began to rake her long nails lightly over the palm of his strong hand. He could hardly avoid the cleft between her exposed breasts; he was now becoming aroused and he looked downward with slight embarrassment.

"Jack, Darling, look at me, you lovely man. I see what's going on."

"Honey, I am not uncomfortable in the slightest in what I've felt for you or what I'm wanting now. I am slightly embarrassed that in the midst of such serious and important conversation I look at that stunning chest of yours and am just about to lose control of myself."

She smiled broadly indicating her satisfaction with his reply and said with a suggestive expression, "Fine. That is exactly what I want you to stare at and think and do."

The mature young lady who was his companion leaned closer as she held his hand to her lips and kissed it tenderly, running the tip of her tongue about on his palm in an expression of desire. She felt her breasts jostle each other as the soft dress revealed even more of her chest to her father and those seated nearby.

Morgan recalled that their conversation turned to other subjects, but she and Jack were constantly eyeing each other with sensual glances in a fashion that aroused them both. After dinner he asked her to dance and they moved to the terrace.

He took her in his arms and kissed her deeply, accepting her wet tongue with his own. She ran her hands through his thick, long hair, relishing the heavy waves and enjoying her rising heat. At one point he released her and placed his hands upon her breasts, pressing them upward until her nipples appeared out of her dress. 

She threw back her head with pleasure and whispered, "Ohhh, that is so wonderful to me. You make me feel bare and proud of it and I want you so very, very much, Jack!"

Morgan drew him close and on her abdomen felt his growing hardness. She remembered being so hungry for him that she feared she might cum on the dress and the moisture would show through. She thought of his lovely smooth cock and balls and the way he shaved his legs. He was the sexiest, most desirable man she knew. 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

On the warm sundeck Morgan relaxed completely as an orgasm flowed over her with its delicious little electrical snaps and twists inside her abdomen and thighs. She remembered that night with passion and without a single regret. 

She and Jack had become so aroused that they had first thought of walking to the car, intending for him to lift her beside the vehicle and slide her onto his cock. Then he forced himself to settle down saying, "Darling, I want this to be sweet for you. Let's go home for this. I can hardly walk straight as I think about us and as I look at you."

"You, Jack Spires, certainly know how to get a girl aroused and keep her in suspense," she laughed as she stepped in front of him, grasped the swelling between his thighs and squeezed gently while kissing him again.

"Demon woman," he muttered. 

"Dear man, you have not seen the half of what I intend tonight."

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Her emotions and the sensations of desire were so delightfully clear. Morgan opened an eye, scanned the deck for anyone who might be looking, saw no one paying particular attention to her in the midst of all the other nude people present, and inserted her finger into her pussy. With two strokes she triggered another orgasm and felt the cream escape her lips, flowing into her anal cleft. She was so incredibly hot! 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Jack and she entered the house and went straight to the guest bedroom where Victoria had already turned down the bed. He very slowly undressed her, taking time to carefully fold her clothes and drape them over a chair. Morgan recalled how much that meant to her, how so like him it was to be tender with her and not rush. He had done so with her mother all her life; now he extended the same courtesy to her.

Finally she stood naked before him, quiet and awaiting his assessment. He embraced her and whispered, "You are so incredibly desirable, so lovely, my Morgan. May I touch you?"

It was all she could do to whisper, "Oh, please, please touch me, hold me, make love to me, Jack." 

He turned her about and reached his arms about her to cup her breasts. As he looked over her shoulder he saw them overflow his hands and marveled once more that a young woman of her slender physique could be so large. 

"You are big, very big, Morgan. Look how you overflow my hands. See how your nipples are fat, tender and so dark. Do you know that those lovely faint veins across your breasts are very, very sexy? You have always amazed your mother and me and excited us both. Your tummy is flat and soft and your fur is perfect. Do you have any idea how much I want you?"

His daughter turned about, lightly touched his lips with her finger and whispered, "Yes, Darling, I do. Let's show each other now."

She began to undress him, first drawing his shirt over his arms and head, and pulling his great length of hair through the neck hole until it all flowed down his back once more. This time the wave in front concealed part of his face and he made no move to brush it aside. The image heightened her passion.

He sat on the bed for her to remove his boots and long socks. Then she unbelted his slacks and removed them and his tiny underwear, gazing hungrily at his velvety smooth abdomen and legs as she did so. His cock was fat with blood and excitement and his balls nestled tightly below it. ...and then he was naked.

Jack stood and remained quiet in his beauty, his black hair curling in waves about his face, and his cock now standing out hard from his body. Without hesitation Morgan had knelt before him and placed his head into her mouth. Rather than take him completely she accepted his crown, tasting the clear sticky drops that heralded his coming orgasm. He closed his eyes in pleasure as she swirled her tongue downward about his fat shaft.

"Do you like my flavor?" Jack asked quietly as he stroked her hair.

"You are...how can I explain this? ...you are sweet yet manly. You taste very pleasant, Jack, as if I'm tasting a kind of sauce mixed with a fragrance and flavored with some kind of grain. Your cock is delicious, lovely man. I can't wait to have your cum and swallow it."

"You don't have to do that to please me, pretty girl."

His daughter looked up at him with a very gentle expression in her eyes. "Jack, I want to do it. It's the first part of having you inside of me. I enjoy cum, pretty man."

As he absorbed her words she felt him stiffen somewhat.

"Mmmm," she sighed as she fondled his smooth ball sac and his buns. He felt as if he were made of an unearthly fabric, perfectly smooth to her touch, warm and velvety, inviting her to enjoy it even more. How could a man feel so smooth! She'd seen men who were naturally hairy and it was not offensive to her; she simply was aroused by a man's smooth and warm skin, and perhaps it was because it was a marked contrast to a lot of natural hair. She was quite aroused by hair on a woman, but this precious, sensuous beauty in her arms was perfectly delicious with his velvety and lightly tanned flesh. In turn he placed his hands softly by her cheeks, caressing her ears and darting his fingers into them. Morgan suddenly gasped with excitement.

"Jack, I cannot wait, Angel. Please, please take me to bed and fill me up."

He lifted her in his arms and placed her gently on the cool sheets, passing his hand over her body as he did so. Her breasts pressed upward as much as shifting to each side. He gazed at her with wonder.

"Is this something like what you did with my mother, Jack?"

"Yes, Angel, it is. You are so like that precious lady."

"Now you must put yourself inside me. Now! I simply have to have you."

"Morgan, do you want me to put on anything first?"

"Oh, my, no, Jack. I want you bare...I want you hard and hot in me and you have to cum in me. I need that!"

His daughter stared up at him with an intensity that he found surprising. She had already taken his cock in her hands and was guiding him between her thighs. He closed his eyes in ecstasy as her fingers surrounded his shaft and escorted him inside herself.

Morgan would never forget the sensation of his long thick shaft entering her pussy, softly yet insistently nosing aside her red flesh now so wet with cream. She sighed as he pressed in slowly, deliberately, gauging her sensations by the expression on her face. He began to thrust, deeply yet gently, each time drawing her farther into her arousal and closer to an orgasm that she anticipated would exceed any she had ever experienced.

Suddenly he breathed deeply and cried out softly. "Oh! Morgan...oh, Morgan Baby...!"

She felt herself float away on her mind as a burning, wonderful flame engulfed her, causing her to cry out loudly.

"Oh!...oh, dear...Jack. Help me...help me...O, YES! Right there, right there. You are taking all of me, Jack...oooo...."

With that, he thrust firmly into her and the first long streamer of cum shot into her depths. She twisted violently beneath him in her own climax, moaning and hissing and crying out as her body unwound itself in complete bliss. He continued to spurt, his cock filling her, stroking every tiny part of her inner flesh to wonderfully unbearable heat.

She felt his cream overflowing her pussy, the sticky fluid running down into her anal cleft and wetting the bed beneath them. Morgan could not escape the persistence of her contractions as one orgasm followed another. She felt her moisture flow once more and wondered silently when or if she would ever run out of cream. He seemed to drain everything from her.

Morgan could actually feel Jack's great swollen cock as she lay on the warm deck lounge. She felt stretched and penetrated and enfolded in a sensation of being bathed in a luscious thick fluid that heightened every aspect of her sexuality. Oh, dear heavens, how perfect he felt, how he filled her, stuffed her, overcame her. 

When he had finished his wonderful frontal assault Jack had turned her over, lubricated her hole and slowly, tenderly began pressing his cock into her anus. She was surprised and certain that it was going to be painful. Instead, it was a very unusual feeling of slow and gentle expansion accompanied by delicious fullness. As he pressed into her brown hole she supported herself on her outstretched arms since her breasts were too large to comfortably lie on. She felt more and more full until suddenly her pussy seemed as if it were vibrating.

How odd, she thought. Morgan believed that most of her sensations would be in her ass, but she was surprisingly aroused in her pussy. She gasped to Jack that she was going to lose herself again, and he was careful to move his cock only slightly inside her. From his position behind and over her, Jack held her swaying breasts and whispered little compliments about her beauty and the way she thrilled him.

"Ah! Jack, mmmm...my lovely man...I am stuffed...so FULL...and I am going to cum again you sweet thing. Yes! There it is...there it is, Darling. OH, everything inside me is running out...this bed is soaked. I am wet. I love being wet with cum. Oh, HELP ME!" she cried out.




Guessing Game



He felt her squirm very slightly under him as she climaxed once more, then he ceased his movements when she did and started his withdrawal. Her hole was enormous and he whispered that she should lie flat on her tummy to let the muscle contract. 

While she recovered Jack arose and went into the bathroom to clean himself in case she wanted him in her pussy again. In fact she did, and he entered her twice more that night before exhausting himself. His young lover rested against his chest as she slept. Twice during the night she whispered, "Jack, oh, Jack...."

The next day Victoria awakened them with a kiss and a knowing look. 

"I can see that the two of you have accomplished just what we all hoped last night. Are you a happy daughter, Dear? Are we all relaxed? Or aroused? Or merely two shiftless, worthless-but-wonderful and gorgeous lovers of mine?"

"Mother, you have noooo idea just how happy I am." She smiled at Victoria as she placed her hand over her father's cock and felt it begin to swell again.

"My darling husband, are you a contented man after your night with this lovely young lady?"

"Victoria, how wonderful it was and is with Morgan. You were right...she is just like you. Perfect...all a person could ever want."

Morgan grew tired of remaining up on her elbows and forearms, although the sun felt luscious on her back and ass. She usually spread her legs to tan within her cleft. To avoid tan lines she raised her bottom by placing a rolled-up beach towel under her hips to elevate them and bare the flesh that usually was creased when she lay flat. The effect was a lovely, even honey-colored tan with no interruptions. 

Once more she positioned herself on her back and reapplied the fragrant white sunscreen. She slowly ran her fingers between the lips of her vagina, coating them with the cocoanut-scented oil and relishing the stickiness that had gathered in her pink folds, a moisture having nothing at all to do with sunscreen lotion. The folds of red flesh were extremely sensitive and when she tugged lightly on the pendant that graced her clit hood she breathed with excitement at the sensation. 

Morgan was entirely clean shaven save for a vertical rectangle of thick, curly fur that grew from above her clit hood to a point just below her navel. She often wore low-rider pants and slacks in order to display the heavy black growth above the top of each waistband. She always felt sexy showing off this long, bluish-black fur above nicely fitting pants and shorts; it was a definite expression of sensuality and because of its raven color it contrasted immediately with her tanned flesh and whatever she was wearing.

Victoria had actually been the one to suggest that she grow her pussy fur in a manner that could be displayed with an unusual flair. It had created some problems with the parents of a few friends who thought it a blatant invitation to sex, and Morgan had lost two girlfriends over her mat. But the "electric factor" of her grass on casual display proved to be such a sexual stimulus Morgan went right ahead cultivating a glorious patch at least two inches deep.

She glanced down over her great breasts at the expanse of her flat abdomen and the dark mat of hair just north of her pussy. "I love my fur," she said to herself. "I want people to stare at it, I want my lovers to play with it, and I want my parents to put it into their mouths. Oh! heavens...I want their mouths in my pussy."

The brunette beauty next to her stirred, then awoke, glanced over at her and smiled. In a husky, quiet voice she said, "Sunning like this makes me so hot, especially when someone such as you is nearby and enjoying it, too."

"Well, thank you for that compliment," answered Morgan. "I have to confess that you make a girl quite hot and bothered yourself."

"Thank you. Please excuse me for just a moment."

As she spoke she turned slightly away from Morgan onto her left side, squirmed out of the tight yellow shorts and placed the tip of something shiny into the hole between her buns. Morgan was so taken with what she was doing that she did not answer. Into her hole the girl fit what appeared to be a stainless steel strawberry-shaped device with a rounded tip; she gently worked it about, then pressed it home. When she removed her hand a sapphire glittered on a small stalk protruding from her anus and nestled in the warm tan flesh of her ass. 

She played softly with her insert, giving Morgan the impression that it felt delicious and sexy. It certainly looked that way. Then the girl rolled over once more to face Morgan, her pussy concealed between her smooth and tightly clamped thighs. Somehow, although she had allowed Morgan to watch what she did, it did not seem exhibitionist to the teenager. She thought it more of a natural, smooth and extremely erotic movement as the brunette inserted the sexually stimulating jewel. It was the first time Morgan had seen this done.

"I'm Shannon. This is not exactly the way to meet and greet new friends, but this cruise and this place are different from what we'd do in everyday life."

"Oh! I'm so sorry...I'm Morgan Spires," responded her fascinated observer. "My family and I are from Palm Beach and I'm on a sort of one-girl senior trip for graduation. I'm going to meet my parents on the beach here day-after-tomorrow."

"Meet your parents? On a graduation celebration trip to the Caribbean?" The girl's dark eyebrows arched with her curiosity. "Not usually where one goes with your parents."

"Yes, you are right. But you have to know them. They just are not like usual parents. I mean, sexy...oh, my! They are gorgeous, they are so in love with each other. And...," here her voice sank to a conspiratorial whisper, "...we have a very close relationship among the three of us. Sweet. Hot. Yep, I'd go to the Caribbean in a heartbeat for either one of those luscious people."

"You're not joking, are you? You really are serious about them...and about you?"

Morgan stared at the brunette beside her. The girl was her age, perhaps a year older, and though not as well-endowed in her chest was sexy in a lovely and very hungry sort of way. Morgan felt the stirring of desire and reddened slightly at her uncontrolled but delightful longing.

"Yes, I am. Are you here with anybody? Someone as beautiful and sexy as you must have a date or a husband."

"You're sweet to say that," answered the girl, "but no, I am alone on this trip just as you are. Except I have no one to meet me."

"Well, if you can stand the torture maybe you'd go with me to the beach and meet them. Will you?"

"Why...well, yes, I'd like that very much, I think," Shannon said. Then she quickly added, "But they aren't expecting anyone but you and I'd be in the way."

"Shannon, you have to understand my parents. They never know what or who to expect with me. They always make my friends feel welcome and no one is ever in the way. They are simply wonderful people to be with...that's why I enjoy it so much."

Then Morgan received one of the more memorable surprises of her young life. The beautiful brunette languorously turned over and stretched out her smooth legs as she relaxed on her right arm. The large and shapely organ sprang from between her thighs and bounced heavily as she reclined facing Morgan, swelling gently as the latter watched in stunned silence. Shannon's cock was even more impressive than Jack's. It lay thick and long and heavy, nestled against the young woman's lower leg, its large crown resting on the surface of the lounge. Its vertical mouth was pierced by a ring, the circle of which was interrupted with a small gold ball. Her smooth honey-colored flesh was completely bare of any pubic fur. The overall effect of this sight was intensely erotic and Morgan again felt a delicious twitching in her pussy.

"I can see you are rather startled," smiled Shannon as she watched Morgan carefully for signals. "Most people are when I introduce myself like this."

"I...really...certainly am," replied Morgan, an expression of complete surprise mixed with fascination spread across her face. "I wish I could say something intelligent."

"What's stopping you, Morgan? Haven't you ever seen a chick with a dick before?"

"Uh, no. No, I never have. I've heard of it. But you are absolutely beautiful, Shannon. I mean, it's beautiful...I mean, everything you have is beautiful. Good lord! I'm stuck in a 'beautiful' rut, aren't I?"

Shannon seemed remarkably calm and quite proud of herself as she lay nude before Morgan, her long black waves of hair blowing softly over her breasts and that amazing penis still hardening as Morgan watched. She, on the other hand, was caught between stark amazement at the surprise of seeing a lovely, sexy woman with a cock every man would want and the turmoil within as she struggled to respond with something other than raw idiocy.

"Shannon, I think you are incredibly sensuous. I'm embarrassed to say this, but I hardly know you yet I'd love to date you...spend the night with you...spend a month with you...O good grief! This is just stupid of me. You must think I am simply crazy and trashy to even say it. I'm sorry."

"I'm what you call a shemale, Morgan, and I am very complimented by what you just said. There have been times when people have not been nearly as sweet as you. I can hardly believe that you have reacted to me with surprise that turned immediately to kindness and compliments." She laughed and her eyes sparkled as she gazed at the teenager staring at her.

Morgan considered Shannon's words, then said, "Why in the world would someone treat you ugly? I know that everything you are isn't confined to your boobs, those amazing legs and that perfectly luscious cock. But they really are ... umm, I guess you'd have to say 'traffic-stoppers.' You seem to be a very interesting lady. Actually, I'd like to get to know you better."

In the silence that followed Morgan was baffled about how she managed such a gracious answer. I really am interested in her, she thought. Is that wrong? Am I weird? She's absolutely the most sensuous thing I've ever seen, yet she seems like the perfect woman. I wonder what she is like? I wonder what sex with her is like? I'm making an utter ass of myself. Oh, STOP IT right now!

"Well, when you're like me you surprise people who expect one thing and discover another. I'm a woman with attractive woman things and desires and interests, but I also have this precious gift and my balls. There are people, men and women, who want very much to be with me. There are others who think I am a freak of some sort, and I don't try to force myself on them."

"Shannon, you probably don't have a clue of just how you strike me. Women make such sweet and tender love, yet you also have the sexual gifts of a man...a really, really generously endowed man. I'd like to approach you as an interesting person and I am imprisoned by a constant series of hot flashes because you make them happen. Your overall effect on me is one of incredible desire. I hope you aren't insulted by this blunt confession."

She parted her thighs slightly and her small ball sac shifted from between her legs to rest softly in front beneath her heavy penis. It was all Morgan could do to refrain from reaching out to touch her. 

The two stared at each other. 

"I'm much too forward," said Morgan in a small voice. "Please don't think badly of me, Shannon. It's just that you are so beautiful and so sexy and such a surprise. All of that together is a little more than I can handle."

"I think, Morgan," she answered in a soft husky voice, "that both of us are really interested in each other. Why don't we do this...let's meet for dinner tonight and spend some time afterward. We can relax, laugh, you can tell me about your family...." 

The brunette's voice trailed off into a small whisper as if she were attempting to gain a great secret from the teenager before her and was embarrassed to let that be known.

"I think that's exciting! Will you come to my room?"

"I am looking forward to it, Morgan. How do I get there?"

Morgan explained how to find her stateroom, then Shannon took her hand, kissed it and stood to pull on her tight shorts and a sleeveless tee-shirt. This time the yellow shorts bulged with a firm shape as she waved goodbye and walked to the door of the pool area. The display of what was unmistakably an impressive cock did not trouble her in the least as she departed to the accompanying stares of the entire complement of sun worshippers.

Morgan noted that her new friend had left the sexy strawberry-shaped device in her ass as she dressed and departed. "Eeee—yi-yi-yiii!" she muttered to herself as she watched Shannon's delectable ass switch back-and-forth on her way around the pool to the exit door.

Surprise...

The stateroom door vibrated gently under a knock from outside. Morgan glanced once more at her image in the long mirror before moving to turn the handle. 

"Just a sec, Shannon!" she called out as she assessed the woman staring back at her, mimicking perfectly her interest and movements. Morgan's dark hair fell softly about her face. She wore a sky blue sleeveless top with a wide and ruffled open neckline to a point just beneath her breasts. There it buttoned tightly about her midriff, leaving an expanse of bare flesh to the hem of her slacks. The view was incredible. Her great breasts bulged into the open with luscious rounded flesh and heroic cleavage, the half moon edges of her dark nipples plainly visible. The buttoned part of the blouse accentuated her slender tummy in contrast to her large chest.

Her cute ass was nicely displayed and high-heel white leather sandals with straps gave her a slightly formal appearance. Above the top edge of her white slacks curled the upper portion of her pubic bush, lush, dark and in sharp contrast to the white of the slacks immediately below it.

"Yes!" she hissed in a low voice as she pumped the air with her right hand. "I think this will pass all checkpoints."

She turned and strode to the door, first checking through the peephole in its center, then opening to Shannon. Both took deep breaths in pleasure as they stared at each other. Shannon reached out to embrace Morgan and the latter came quickly into her arms. Before they realized what they were doing they had kissed, each briefly darting her tongue into the other's mouth.

"Ooops!" said Shannon as she placed her long fingers on her lips. 

"Oh! I didn't mean to...," said Morgan, her face turning a light shade of pink with embarrassment.

"Wait a minute," replied Shannon with a laugh. "What are we talking about? Of course we enjoyed that. Who's kidding who?"

"Shannon, please come on in and let me look at you. You are good enough to eat."

The tall brunette entered and dropped her bag on a desk near the door.

"Please, sit down," urged Morgan.

Shannon wore a Kelly green tube top and a tight khaki denim mini-skirt that showed off her legs to perfection. Tan sandals with medium heels caused her calf muscles to tighten slightly, producing a very sexy appearance from behind. When she saw the short skirt the first thing Morgan wondered was, Is she wearing something to hold that gorgeous cock? Or is it loose? And if it's loose, can I see it? And...oh, my lord, I have got to stop this.

The brunette shemale sat on the corner of a settee ordinarily used to hold opened suitcases. She crossed her glamorous legs but not before Morgan saw a white thong bulging with something heavy and large. A jolt of sexual electricity shot through the teenager.

"Do you want to go to dinner or catch a snack or just walk around?" asked Shannon softly in order to avoid leaving Morgan with the impression that she was being bossy.

"Shannon, would you mind if we just walked and talked for a while? We can always get something to eat later or maybe even bring it back here."

"Believe me," replied her new acquaintance, "I am really interested in your parents and you. I'd rather get to know you, especially if I'm going with you to meet them day-after-tomorrow."

Both women hoisted their small, stylish handbags over their shoulders and walked out. Morgan locked the door of her stateroom.

"I like to just cruise around like this," said Shannon as they mounted the wide stairs to the main deck. "We don't know anyone, we can think and talk and laugh and nobody cares."

Morgan soon discovered that Shannon was from Georgia, Albany, to be exact. Their conversation devolved into a swapping of different pronunciations of town names.

"How would you pronounce 'A-l-b-a-n-y?" Shannon asked.

"Um...I guess 'Al-bany,'" she replied. "The fact that you ask tells me that there's a hitch in it, though."

"Yes, there is. We say 'Albenny' with the emphasis on the second syllable. We can always tell someone who isn't from there because they say it as you did."

"Okay," Morgan came back quickly, "I have friends from a small town in northern Alabama spelled 'A-r-a-b.' How would you say that?"

"Arab, like the people who live in the Middle East."

"Nope. We say Ay-rab."

They giggled at this, kept it up until they ran out of examples, and moved on to other subjects. They were at the stern rail watching the ship's frothy wake stretching into the distance when Shannon asked, "Morgan, if you could have anything you wanted, what would it be?"

Morgan was quiet as she decided whether to say what was really on her heart or just pop off with something light and flakey. She decided on the former.

"Shannon, if I could have anything I wanted I want to see my brother Brandon. I have no idea if he is even alive. But for all the years since he vanished I've wanted him, needed him, I guess you could say longed for him."

"Well, what's to keep you from it? You said 'vanished'; did he leave home?

For the next half hour as they stood above the swishing sound of the water far below, watching it churn from the ship's monstrous screws and trail away in a turmoil of green and white suds, Morgan poured out her heart and mind about Brandon.

Shannon was silent throughout the entire monologue but touched her gently on the shoulder at one point when Morgan seemed about to be overcome by tears. While staring out to sea the tall, lovely brunette asked, "Morgan, suppose you were to meet Brandon now. He could be very different. Have you thought of that? You might wish with all your heart that you'd never seen him again."

"Yes, I thought of that. It's always a risk you take when you love someone deeply, they go away for a time, and then they return. Are they the same person you said 'goodbye' to however long ago it was? But it's worth the risk. Otherwise, love has little meaning if it cannot span time and distance."

"You've really thought this through, haven't you?"

"Yes. But I haven't talked about it with my parents. I know they still have sadness and miss him but they try to protect me."

"Morgan," said the woman beside her, "what if he came back and wasn't anything like what you expected? I mean really different. Would that matter to you?"

"I'd be silly if I just popped off and said that nothing would matter, Shannon. We don't live in a vacuum and things and events are important both in themselves and in the way they affect other people and events. But, no, my brother could look different or have some real handicap or just be...well...different. He's still my Brandon. I would still love him."

When Shannon said nothing more for several minutes, Morgan turned and asked, "Why?"

The woman stared at her briefly, then said, "Because I am Brandon. Your brother."

Impossibility

Morgan was not exactly sure what to say next. Words swirled about in her head as she stared intently at Shannon. 

"Shannon, tell me exactly what you mean by, 'I am Brandon, your brother.'"




Guessing Game



Just after college, I met this incredible girl Carol where I worked, and we began dating, and after a few weeks, things were getting a bit more serious. I don't think either of us intended to have anything major serious, but we really enjoyed each other's company and were having lots of great sex. We were in our 20's and not really thinking long term.

I was living on one side of Cambridge, and she lived near downtown Boston with her sister Leslie, who was rarely there. And Carol and I developed a small group of friends with whom we did things regularly together on weekends. One of these friends was Debbie, who was a very sexy and fun woman, single but 'always looking' for the right man. She never seemed to be without a boyfriend, but for a while, she was having a dry spell with male company.

Carol and I were spending lots of nights together, mostly at her place because her sister wasn't there. I think she did a lot of traveling with work and my place was small and on a less convenient pathway where we liked to hang out. She was a very sexy lady indeed, with a tall, trim body and rarely wore any undergarments. Many times we would go out and she would just have on a mid thigh length dress. That's it. It didn't bother her that her small breasts were visible, as were her prominent nipples, that seemed constantly hard. She rather liked the attention I think. I told her a number of times how much I liked looking at her and how sexy she looked. And I knew other people looked at her when we walked into a store or restaurant because she was so hot and carried herself in a very sensual manner. Even though we had been together for 5 months, and had been naked together countless times, I never tired of looking at her and looking at other looking at her, and trying to catch a glimpse up her dress or look at her breasts through the sides and arm holes of her dresses. She was as much of an exhibitionist as I was a voyeur...that's probably why we got along so well and had such wild sex together.

Even when we were alone together, Carol would walk around naked, or just with a tee shirt on, not really caring who was watching. Or perhaps it was that she cared that people were watching and enjoyed it all the more. I tried to be discreet when Leslie was around, but since they were sisters, there wasn't much modesty. And a number of times, I saw Leslie naked too, since there was only one bathroom and Leslie enjoyed the 'accidental' encounter in the bathroom when she emerged from the shower, not having fully closed the door and I was passing by.

I think Carol purposely left her bedroom door open when Leslie was around and I was staying over so that Leslie could see us having sex and a number of times, I though I could sense some shadows in the hall way outside our room, and more than just imagined Leslie in the darkness.

And then one evening, Debbie, Carol and I were hanging around the apartment and were getting a bit bored. We were drinking more than usual and I was serving up a constant supply of Margaritas, and the evening wore on, we were getting more than a bit sloshed. Then Debbie produced some weed, and offered it around. I declined, saying that if affected me weird one day a year ago, and didn't want to experience that again. When pressed for details, both Debbie and Carol were anxious for an explanation. Never having shared this with my girlfriend, I didn't want this to be the time of place to explain a bit of an embarrassing situation. But the alcohol was loosening my inhibitions and Carol said, 

"If you tell us, I'll make it worth your while later tonight."

"Just what are you offering my dear..." I asked smiling, thinking about all the options from which I could choose my payment.

" I'm sure I could come up with something..." Carol said, sitting in one of her short dresses, legs exposed up to mid thigh, and slyly pulled the dress up a bit higher.

Debbie was sitting next to Carol on the sofa, and the nuance of Carol's activities were not lost on her.

"Yeah, let's her it Dave, what you would want Carol to do. I want to hear what happened with the weed too." Debbie added.

They could sense my reluctance and were teaming up to pounce on my vulnerability.

"How about one of 'those' massages you say you like?" Carol offered, again with that sly, sultry smile.

"What's one of 'those' massages?" Debbie asked, giggling, clearly feeling good from the cold drinks we were having.

"He likes me to have oil on my hands and rub his back, then turn over so I can slowly stroke his cock and then have me fuck him from on top." Carol quickly and without reservation offered.

"Sounds like fun Dave....wouldn't that be worth a bit of disclosure?"

"Does sound fun...but perhaps Debbie would feel a little left out?" I said, my mind filling with images of both of them rubbing me all over with oil and four hands and two mouths and two pussies to delve into...

"That wouldn't be a problem," Debbie said, not exactly being clear with what she meant.

"C'mon Dave...tell us what happened...we won't tell anyone and we wouldn't make you smoke any if you didn't want...we might partake though." Carol smiled, looking at Debbie and nodding their heads in agreement.

"Allright girls...go ahead and get yourselves going...I'll tell you. Carol's offer sounds pretty good to me."

Debbie went to her purse and got a joint and lighter our and started to smoke, inhaling deeply, and passing the cigarette to Carol, who also inhaled, held her breath, and then both exhaled deeply.

"So what happened that you've been reluctant to tell?" Carol asked.

"Well, it's a bit odd...but last year, this girl I was dating had some weed, and when we smoked we got good and high and then were screwing, and screwing real good."

"Sounds normal to me...I thought you were going to say you couldn't get it up or something..." Debbie said, inhaling again, and passing it back to Carol, who did the same. I was meanwhile drinking the Margarita, watching the girls get high on top of the alcohol buzz.

"But the problem was that we were screwing pretty good for a while and after about 20-30 minutes, I couldn't get off."

"What do you mean?" Carol asked, eyes getting glazed and clearly enjoying herself. "I know that's never been a problem with you," she smiled, knowing full well that we were very compatible sexually and she was quite adept at getting me off.

"Well, I just couldn't come...something about the weed I guess."

"Doesn't sound like a problem to me. Most guys don't last 5 minutes." Debbie said, and both girls broke into bouts of laughter.

"Yeah...sounds like it was quite worth while for your girlfriend...I'll be she liked your staying power." Carol said, resuming their reams of laughing, now both with tears running down their faces.

"Perhaps so...but it didn't feel good after a while...sort of hurt when I was all bottled up."

"Poor guy...all blue balls..." Carol said, and then they were inconsolable with laughter, literally falling over each other on the sofa while I sat there starting to laugh too, mostly at their amusement even if was a bit at my expense. It was contagious.

"I bet I could have gotten you off...I've learned what works, haven't I?" Carol said when she could finally catch her breath, and managed a wink at me through her haze of a drunken buzz.

"I'll bet I could too." Debbie said, all serious like, which did nothing but get them laughing and doubling over with laughter.

"You guys think you're so hilarious, don't you?"

"Yeah...we're pretty funny...more fun than you can handle..." Debbie said. 

"I think it was just that my senses were a bit dulled by the stuff."

"And so your senses are pretty keen now, are they then?" Debbie asked, also eyes glazed by the combination of the tequila, marijuana and laughing for the last few minutes.

"Well, the tequilas are making me feel pretty good, but I think I can tell what's what."

I could see Carol just sitting there, smoking and taking in the conversation. I thought she was stoned out but her wheels were turning.

"So you want to prove that to us Dave?" Carol finally asked.

"What do you mean?"

"We've been together for a while, right?"

"Sure"

"And you and I have fun together, right?"

"Right again," I said, not sure where Carol was going with all this.

"And you like what we've got going on...in the bedroom that is, right?"

"Yeah, sure."

"And you fancy Debbie a bit right?"

I looked at Carol, and then at Debbie, and back at Carol, not knowing what's the right thing to say, not wanting to offend Debbie and not wanting to tell my girlfriend that I had the hots for her friend.

"Sure...Debbie is pretty and hot, but not as much as you babe," I said, hoping that I wasn't putting my foot in my mouth.

"And we look a bit alike, don't we Dave?"

I looked at them again, and they were roughly the same build...5'6", tight, toned, medium breasted....Debbie was a bit more full in the tits department...same long hair, Debbie reddish hair and Carol with brown hair. A bit similar, but different at the same time.

"Some is the same, some is different," I said.

"Well, how about a bit of a game then?" Carol asked.

"What kind of game?" 

Debbie was sitting quiet and absorbing the dialog, and I couldn't tell if she knew what was going on in Carol's head or if they had discussed this before. She was looking a bit buzzed out.

"So Dave...you think you've got our senses about you enough to tell us apart?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"Do you think you could tell Debbie apart from me?"

"Sure I can...you guys are different...I'm still not sure what you're getting at babe."

"Well..." she said., eyes narrowed in the smoke. "Here's the deal."

Debbie and I were listening intently.

"You sit there with a blindfold on and at first sit on your hands. Debbie and I take turns touching you and letting you touch us, and if you can tell the difference, you'll get the reward we were talking about before, but with both of us"

"Intriguiging... sort of a guessing game, but with you two taking turns..."

Debbie hadn't said a word in a few minutes and then said without further ado,

"I'm in. I don't think he can do it."

"Yeah, I don't think so either, " Carol added.

"You guys feel pretty sure you can fool me, huh?"

"Yeah, we do," Debbie said, looking at Carol. "We can pull it off."

"And if you can't, you have to give each one of us a 30 minute massage...just to make it interesting."

I thought about this for a couple minutes...didn't seem like I could lose either way because having my hands on them for an hour didn't seem much like a loss, and playing the game Carol suggested was immensely exciting.

"You're on." I said, emphatically.

Game on.

So Carol jumped up and ran to her bedroom and came back with a scarf.

"Ok, big Dave...sit here," she gestured to the sofa where they were sitting and I got up from the chair adjacent and sat between the girls. Carol proceeded to tie the scarf around my head, and thoroughly blindfolded me so I couldn't see even a glimpse of light. She pressed my hands to my sides and guided me to sit on my hands.

"You do this pretty well...had a bit of practice, have we?" I asked.

"Perhaps..." Carol giggled and then I was sitting along on the sofa. I heard Debbie giggle too and the two resumed their giggling fit, I presume seeing me blindfolded at their feet.

"I guess there's more to you than I knew, eh babe?"

"I guess so...so here's the deal...one of us will touch you or you touch us, and you have to guess who it is. If you guess right, one point for you. If you guess wrong, one for us. First to seven wins. Ok?"

"Ok with me...bring it on girls..."

"Here it goes...I can feel that massage comin', can't you Deb?"

"Ummm...sure can..." more giggling...

After a bit of whispering, I soon felt a pair of hands touching my head, rubbing my hair and then my neck and ears. I felt goose bumps on my arms and though I was starting to get a bit excited, I was trying to feel and smell a difference between the Carol I knew and the Debbie I was anxious to know.

The caresses continued and down to my upper chest and then felt a couple buttons on my shirt open, and stroking the hair on my chest but avoiding my sensitive nipples...for now. I leaned forward towards the direction of the arms trying to smell the performer, but all I could smell was a faint smell of pot and a hint of hair draping against my ears. Could Debbie's hair reach like this? Was this what Carol would do? Wouldn't Carol start this off?....

...yeah...must be that....must be Carol starting this because Debbie wasn't sure of the rules exactly. Carol would tell her what to do and where to touch me, but not yet.

"I know...this is you Carol...I can tell the touch of your hands."

"Right you are my Dave...right you are..." Carol said, a bit of disappointment in her voice. "1-0 you."

"Maybe just a lucky guess..."

"Yeah, that's right...just a lucky guess."

Then after a few moments pause, I heard some more giggling from a few feet away, and then I felt the pressure of someone next to me on the sofa. My right arm was pulled away and guided to a smooth leg. I stroked the calf and then the knee and thigh, and tried to figure out whose this was. Felt smooth and toned...this was a bit tougher than the last one. I tried to tap into my memory of Carol's legs and then picture what Debbie's would feel like. Felt way familiar, but would Carol go twice in a row? Must be Debbie's turn. But would Carol let me stroke Debbie's leg? I had to just guess...

"I think this is you again Carol...feels like your smooth legs..." I said, without as much conviction as prior.

"HA!...wrong this time Dave," exclaimed Carol. That's our good friend Debbie who your were copping a feel."

"1-1 Dave..." said Debbie..."this is getting fun."

"Ok girls, I'm ready again. "

More whispering and a couple tokes a few feet away, and then the giggles again. They were just plain funny hearing them carry on.

Soon I felt two hands rub my legs up to the hem of my shorts. I felt the soft skin of small hands massaging my calves and then my knees and thighs, getting tantalizingly close to my groin, where I felt a distinct stirring.

This was way hard, I mean telling who this was was way difficult. Could be either of them. Nothing distinctive...I tried to smell who was closer, but again was met with the same smell of the weed. Perhaps this second-hand smoke was getting to me too...this was going to be an all out guess.

"You guys are getting sneaky on me...this is going to be tough...but I think this is Debbie's leg."

"Wrong again Dave..." said Carol. "I was hoping you could tell who was giving you the feel."

"2-1 us," said Debbie... "This is really fun now... we've got him now, huh Carol," which led to another laughing fit from the two.

"Back on the hands Dave...we're getting you now," said Carol. "Good luck on the next one."

Someone pushed my hands back so that I was sitting on them and offered me a sip of my Margarita. Then a few moments of them discussing their game plan and I felt a pair of hands unbutton my shirt a bit more and pull the tails from the hem of my shorts. Then the person kneeling next to me was against my side and I thought I could feel some breasts against my arm. Were these Carol's boobs or Debbie's slightly larger ones? Was there a bra there? Was Debbie wearing a bra before? I knew Carol wasn't. Further challenging my guess was that these hands were now caressing my chest and stomach and I was getting way turned on. I was squirming now trying to give my cock some room to grow, and I felt the hands caressing my stomach and then lightly at my nipples.

I now had a full erection and I'm sure it was quite evident in my shorts. My thoughts were getting a bit cloudy and I was struggling with this one. Another pure guess. The last one was Debbie and perhaps Carol told Debbie what to do. They were pretty stoned so I couldn't rule out that Debbie was again put up to the task.

My cock was rock hard and the caresses continued and my nipples were hard and sensitive and my stomach wiggled under the fingernails of the gentle fingers touching me all over. That did feel a bit like Carol's touch...

"Carol...that's you..."

"Good one Dave...you're right...just a guess right? You weren't sure, were you?"

"I could tell your touch Carol," I lied...it was indeed a lucky guess.

"Well, we're tied Dave...2-2. You're giving us a challenge," Carol said.

More whispering and game planning and clothes rustling, and another drink to my lips.

I felt someone pull my left hand from underneath me and pulled towards the unknown. I felt myself drawn towards a thigh and then a bare ass. She let my hand go to wander a bit and I felt around the firm leg, the ass. I squeezed and probed, not only liking the feel but trying to gauge the woman. A great feel...firm, muscled and toned....but that could be either. No voice or laugh to determine either. I tried to feel a bit around the front to see if this would help me, but she didn't let my hand get that far.

Wow...tougher than I thought. Part of me loved the game and getting to cop a feel, especially if this was Debbie's naked leg and ass I was feeling. But I wanted to win and get my prize and also know that I could tell my girlfriend from another woman.

But this was again another guess...I was glad the odds were no worse than 50-50.

"Carol's leg..." I said, with feigned confidence.

"Right you are Dave...right you are..." Debbie said, withdrawing to discuss strategy.

"3-2 you Dave...you're getting good," Carol said. "We're gonna get tougher I guess."

"Bring it on ladies..."

Whispering, giggling, inhaling again...more giggling..."Hold still now," said Carol from where they were strategizing.

I felt my hands being pushed back to sit on them, which I obediently did. Then I felt someone straddle my thighs and felt skin against my face. I instinctively leaned forward to press against the smooth skin that I quickly knew were bare breasts. I tried to move my head back and forth and get a sense of the size of these wonderful orbs in my face, but hands quickly held me still.

Debbie's breasts, though I have never seen naked before, were larger than Carol's, but not by much. I sure had Carol's in my face and mouth before to know what hers felt like. I felt the skin on my cheeks and then a nipple across my lips. I opened my lips without thinking and then quickly felt a touch to my mouth and pulling away, telling me that I couldn't use my lips to help. That would have given me the answer.

But these felt just a bit larger than Carol's...a different aroma...too close to be clouded by the smoke that their hair felt from the weed. They couldn't mask this proximity...I knew the answer but I wanted to prolong this sensation, of Debbie's breasts against and around my face. I would be lying if I said I'd never thought of this before, and though I couldn't use my mouth, and tongue and suck these nipples, these were Debbie's glorious tits in my face.

Then they pulled away, and I sighed..."Debbie...for sure Debbie..."

"Right you are Dave...good thing you got that right," said Carol, with some sincerity in her voice. 

Right indeed...needed to store that one away for a while.

"4-2 you," said Carol..."You're proving to be a touch customer. I guess we're gonna have to get serious now..."

Another sip or Margarita was offered and accepted. Then the whispering and a few moments later, I felt someone sit beside me to my right side, and start stroking my inner thighs. I was still way hard and squirming a bit in my seat, but enjoying the game and my lead.

Then the hands were stroking higher towards my crotch and inevitably to my aching erection tenting my shorts. They unbuckled my shorts and reached in and I gasped at the touch of a hand on my throbbing cock. I was going to struggle with this one. I was so turned on it was hard to concentrate on making a good guess.




Guessing Game



I felt her hand pull my shorts down a bit and pull the waistband of my underwear down so that more of my cock was exposed. The other hand continued to stroke the head of my cock and then grasp the shaft and pump me up and down for a minute. Fearing I was going to come right there, I was enjoying the sensations so much. I tried anew to get a hint as to who this was. Were these familiar hands? Would Carol let Debbie do this? She sure would...she was pretty wild and they wanted to confuse me and win. I leaned a bit to my right to see if I could feel a familiar body against me. No help there. 

More stroking, just a firm pull up and down...steady rhythm...nothing distinctive other than the increasing arousal and impending climax. Then she stopped and I had to guess. I breathed deep and just guessed.

"Carol again..." I said, thinking that Carol wouldn't put her up to this at first.

"Wrong!" Carol exclaimed with a victorious yell. "That was Debbie dear Dave, tugging on your boner...which is quite leaking by the way."

This got the girls set off again with peals of laugher, catching up one point.

4-3, still with a narrow lead.

So things were getting serious...I was sitting there on the sofa, not tied down, but with an immense erection and Carol had just watched her friend Debbie stroke my hard cock for the first time and I was leaking pre-cum and sitting there with a dumb, but very happy and aroused smile.

I heard footsteps draw closer after a few moments, and then felt someone kneel in front of me. My legs were pushed apart and hands were pulling my shorts and under wear down. I lifted my hips so that she could pull my shorts down and off my legs. I was now sitting there with my shirt completely unbuttoned and the rest of me naked, exposed and very, very aroused.

I think I knew what was next, and the next few moments were absolute torture of anticipation. I felt the hands stroke my inner thighs and then my balls, tight to my core with arousal. I then felt hair cascade over my thighs and stomach and then lips closed around the head of my cock. I almost exploded right there. The soft wet tongue laved the sensitive underside of my cock which was in her mouth. But whose mouth was it?

My utter and extreme arousal was definitely impairing my judgement. Would Carol let Debbie do this? She let her stroke me a moment ago...Wouldn't Carol, ever the exhibitionist, take pure pleasure in showing off her oral skills to her friend? Now my cock was sinking deeper and deeper into her mouth and I throbbed with excitement. God I wanted to come right there...right in her mouth, whoever this was. Another part of me wanted this to continue because the sensations and the mental imagery of not knowing were intense.

More sucking...in and out, gently, slowly, carefully, trying not to give away the identity. No distinctive moves...Carol had given me enough blow jobs over the weeks that I'm sure she either was trying to appear generic and had told Debbie the same. But this was still a good mouth, a talented and wet mouth. And most of all, the one sucking me...

Probably after a total of 5 minutes, the sucking stopped with a slow, upstroke, couple flicks of the tongue at the sensitive groove at the underside, and then a 'plop' of the cessation of activities.

The steps withdrew and then Carol's voice said, "Who was that now Dave...sucking you off?"

Something in her voice was a bit of a challenge but a bit telling. I'm not sure what it was but I guessed, "Carol, that was you...your great mouth..."

"Wow Dave....right you are...I guess I'd better vary my technique to keep you interested in the future." 

"That's 5-3, me, isn't it ladies?" I said, gloating just a bit.

"Yeah, it's not over yet big boy...and I do mean big boy," Debbie said, with a sultry laugh. The girls giggled their infectious laugh again, and set about to plan their recovery.

I must have looked quite the sight, sitting there almost completely nude in front of two hot, and very stoned but horny ladies, my cock hard, red and shiny with the saliva of Carol's mouth.

I heard whispering, planning soft voices and more rustling of clothes. A couple minutes later, I was running through options...and how hot this whole situation was. I was a bit buzzed from the Margaritas but still quite with enough functioning brain cells to be in heaven with this wild game of Carol's.

"Alright Dave...you're gonna have to work to get this right...and no coming...that's not allowed," Carol exclaimed. "That's not part of the game."

"I guess that depends on what you are planning on dishing out...I'm not the one smoking the weed, remember. If I was, you wouldn't have to worry, because I wouldn't be able..."

"Maybe you should have a couple tokes and make us both real happy," Carol said, and then started laughing , quickly followed by Debbie breaking into rolls of laughter.

"You guys are hilarious...totally a gaff."

"We're not done with you...let's see what you got...oh yeah, we see what you got," Carol challenged, again breaking them up.

After a moment when they calmed down, I felt the footsteps again approaching and then I felt a pair of legs between me, against my calves. Then a hand grasped my cock and I felt an ass against my stomach as my cock was guided to a wet pussy sitting down on me and impaling me in a hot wet grasp. I inhaled deeply as my cock was buried in one pussy, and the ass ground around reverse cow girl...

Who was this? I didn't think Carol would let me fuck her friend in front of her, but they were stoned and wanted to win. Was she messing with my head, knowing I'd think this and then have her friend sit on my cock?

God this felt good. I wanted to use my hands and grab her ass and her tits and fuck her hard, whoever this was. What a glorious pussy, my cock was so wet and I could feel her juices dripping down my balls. But I couldn't tell who this was...More slow, steady up and down, grinding, hands rubbing my balls. Carol knew I loved this, but she could have easily told Debbie what to do...

Shit! My dick was in either my girlfriend's pussy or that of her good friend and I couldn't tell. But I sure was enjoying the ride....Back to the 50-50 guess, but I wasn't going to guess until the sensations stopped or I was going to come, which was very, very soon.

As soon as I felt the imminent moments before I came, the woman stood off me and withdrew my cock from the heat of the wonderful sensations of the hot pussy, with an audible groan from me.

I just had to guess..."Carol...you again..." I just didn't think she would have Debbie fuck me.

I guessed wrong.

"Nope! That was Debbie, you horn dog. I was so sure you would be able to guess, but I guess you're not as good as you thought, huh..." Now it was Carol's turn to gloat a bit. I was sure turned on, but so was that wet pussy on top of me. Perhaps that would work to my advantage...

"I think he was close to coming Carol...we'd better be careful on the next one," said Debbie. The girls had a good, chummy laugh at that one.

"You're probably right...he looks ready to burst, don't you think?"

"Yeah...that filled my pussy but good...you're a lucky girl.."

"It's been a while for you hasn't it Debbie," said Carol.

"Sure has dear...more than usual..back to Bob..."

Both broke down cracking up laughing...

"Who's Bob?" I asked, being a bit left out of the banter, and wanting to get back to the game at hand, and trying to behave and not just jerk off.

"Who's Bob..." they said in unison, and again almost fell to the floor laughing.

Finally, after the giggling simmered, Carol said, "It's not 'who' but 'what', silly...battery operated boyfriend...haven't you ever heard us girls use that one before?"

"Ha...good one...never heard of that before...so who's winning by the way?" 

"It's just 5-4...only one point lead for you dear Dave...one point lead..."

"Don't get cocky..." again, minutes of crazy laughing...even I laughed at that one and at them carrying on.

Then I heard the whispering and the challenge..."better get this one right..." said Carol.

Again, the footsteps approached, and I felt someone stand on the sofa with one leg on either side of me. I could feel the heat and the sensation and the aroma of aroused woman as a pussy sank down towards my face, that I instinctively turned upwards to meet the approaching treat.

I felt close-shaved pussy hair tickly my nose and lips and felt a warm wetness coat my lips. It was so hard to not let my tongue lick and mouth devour the woman standing straddling my face. But this was Carol, not a doubt. That's why the challenge because if I guessed this one wrong, I may never get laid again. Still, I savored the wet pussy being rubbed back and forth across my mouth. I did open my mouth because I couldn't resist anymore and licked the pussy atop me. 

The thighs squeezed my head and ears and I couldn't hear the groan but I could feel her gasp and open her pussy a bit more so that I could put my tongue deeper in to her dripping pussy and feel her clit rub harder and harder against my mouth.

I felt a shudder of a small orgasm and an increase of the fluid coating my face and then she stood and climbed down, and I licked my lips trying to gather every last drop of nectar.

"That was you dear Carol...I'd know that pussy anywhere..."

"We gave you that one...I just had to have you lick me a bit...I'm burning up over here..."

6-4 now...almost there...I could just imagine the 4-handed massage and two women all over my naked body for hours as we fucked and fucked the rest of the night.

"And dripping wet too...you know you taste so good babe...and one more point to the win ladies...I can sense victory..."

"Not so fast Casanova... we've got another round to challenge you..." Carol said.

"That wasn't fair though Carol...you came just a little bit didn't you..." I asked.

"Yeah...I guess I did...couldn't help it...sorry...weed affects me the opposite...I get so horny I can't stand it...doesn't it for you Deb?"

"Yeah, me too...I almost came a moment ago but I didn't want Dave to come so I stopped..."

"Alright Dave....for the possible game-winning event, you're gonna have to lie down on the sofa, but still no hands...and definitely no coming..."

I obediently did as told and lay on the sofa and planted my hands behind my legs.

Whispering, giggling, planning....

The approaching footsteps and then felt someone climb on top of me and without ado, put my cock quickly and deeply in her burning pussy. This pussy was definitely wet and definitely hot and definitely close to coming. As was I. She fucked me slow and deep, with strokes up and down, hands planted on my chest and grinding her pussy hard against my bursting cock.

Then two hands pulled gently on my nipples as I loved and I was on the verge of coming after a few minutes. I'd been turned on and hard for almost 30 minutes, and dying to come in/on one of these lovely ladies.

But then were these a second pair of hands? I couldn't tell...the pussy on me was too hot...too intense...and then she stopped, and let me calm down...but the hands kept playing with my nipples. I thought there was a second body next to me but wasn't sure.

Then a second body climbed atop me, and I felt my head covered with a crotch and my mouth quickly covered with a dripping pussy...this one was definitely not Carol's, because she tasted so different. Carol was fucking me and Debbie was on my face, and I was eating her out...god she tasted good...she was rocking and rubbing all over my face as Carol resumed grinding her clit against my pubic bone the way I knew she liked to do, the way that would make her come.

And sure enough, in another minute, though my ears were silenced by Debbie's thighs wrapped around my head, I felt Carol come and shudder and scream in orgasm. I followed right then, coming hard in Carol's wet and burning pussy. My yells were stifled by Debbie's pussy, and then she too came as Carol was squeezing her tits and I felt her pussy clench and coat my face with her juices. I had released my hands by now and held Debbie's tits in my hands and Carol and I felt and encouraged Debbie's orgasm and her nipples stiffened in our hands as I was drenched with her juices.

They finally rolled off me and my Carol's pussy dripped loads of our combined juices on my balls and thighs and I breathed fresh air and my blindfold was removed.

Carol fell to the back of the sofa, not letting go of my cock, still aching and hard, slick with our wetness, as Debbie sat on the floor next to us...all of us breathing hard and trying to catch our breath.

"That was awesome, " Carol finally said. "I told you that weed makes me so horny."

"Me too...you guys are wild..." said Debbie, breathing deeply and with satisfaction.

"I'll play this game with you anytime...you are some hot ladies. I think I like what the weed does to you...crazy imagination...but I won, right?

"Seems like we all won, right?

"Sure enough...hot stuff I'll never forget, that's for sure," Debbie said.

"Me too...me too..."



Guessing Game



My wife and I had been together for several years. Among our friends were the obligatory one or two exes. In particular was my ex fiancé. One week, she was feeling especially down so we decided to invite her out with us to the comedy club for some laughs and a few drinks.

We picked her up and went to a wonderful Italian place for a great dinner and had the first drinks of the evening to help everyone relax. She told us about how stressed she was and that she was so grateful for the chance to get out and enjoy herself. My dick began to switch under the tablecloth as I glanced at the plunging neckline of her blouse and I fought back the memories of all the amazing sex we used to have together.

Thankfully, my wife kept an eye on her watch and noted that we needed to wrap it up or we'd miss the opening act. So the girls went to freshen up while I paid the check and waited for my erection to deflate. We sped to the club, which was actually the rooftop bar at one of the pricier hotels on along the beach. The elevator whisked us to the top floor and I couldn't help but steal a lingering glance in the brass work of the elevator of myself standing between these two beautiful women. The sudden jolt to a stop brought me back to my senses and we departed the lift and went right into the club.

The comedians were very funny, the crowd that started off rather sullen in the beginning eventually worked itself up to a raucous drunken mob by the end of the show thanks to good jokes and better booze. We three had a very good buzz going but were all careful not to over indulge. Myself mainly because I was driving but also because I was expecting a well-deserved night of carnal fun that I'd been denied all week thanks to my wife's monthly visitor, who had left earlier that morning.

We made our way back down to the car easily. There wasn't a big fight for the elevator as the vast majority of patrons were planning on finishing out the night there at the club. Only the few that we're too drunk or too horny to stay departed. At the car, the girls changed out of their heels and to my surprise, my wife announced: "I don't know about you two, but I'm not that tired. Is anyone one else up for a walk? It's such a lovely night." And it was a lovely spring night. The sky was crystal clear, moonless, but not a single cloud and there was just enough sea breeze drifting in over the dunes to help cool the skin from the heat being produced by the combination of digesting dinner, several alcoholic drinks and the beginnings and sexual tension that was quickly rising to the surface.

We made our way back through the hotel lobby, past the pool area and out onto the beach. It was nearly 3am by now and the beach was almost completely deserted. We headed north, away from the couple of fisherman and the noisy gulls that they had attracted. Over the dunes and down near the water's edge, we took turns walking ankle deep in the surf. As we walked on, away from the hotels and condos, the ambient light faded. The sky sparkled with every star in the heavens except for the two with me, one on each arm. The alcohol became too much for my ex's bladder to handle and she excused herself for a quick potty trip to the dunes. As she departed, my wife pulled me to her and wrapped me up in a deep kiss. She looked at me a remarked how lovely her predecessor was. "She's really sexy. I can see why you two got together. I bet you had great sex, didn't you?" I felt a playful trap being set that would cost me my eagerly anticipated night's fun so I demurred and said, "Yes, the sex was good," but quickly added, "...but not as good as ours." 

My ex returned to us panting from too much rum and her hike through the soft sand. I deftly tried to change the subject and remarked on how deserted the beach was, but my wife wasn't about to let me off so easily. "So you guy had really good sex together, right? Come on, we're all adults here," said my wife as she smiled and let her hand drop to my trouser and gently squeezed my semi- hard cock through the material. "This isn't the time for..." I began but was cut off by, "Oh my God, yes! Does he eat your pussy like he's going to die if he doesn't get it all?"I was stunned. Suddenly I wasn't even there. I was invisible. These two partially drunken women began openly comparing notes about my sexual performance and ability right in front of me. I was petrified at first. I had always been credited as a good lover but now I was being graded openly on style, technique, longevity, etc. I felt like a prized racehorse being fawned over by my handlers. What fear I had vanished as I realize they were now in competition with each other for who I had fucked better. 

Story begat story about encounters, liaisons, and lengthy fuck sessions long forgotten, by me anyway. Most I remembered, some I did not. Then they stopped prattling and both turned to look at me. They giggled at the absurdity of it all. And we resumed our walk. Only now there was silence. After several hundred voiceless paces, the wife announces she now needed to visit the dunes and politely ask my ex to accompany her and stand guard. From who or what, I couldn't fathom. But off they went leaving me to watch their shadows disappear into the dark and me, standing alone, pondering just what I had let myself get into. After what seemed like a lifetime, but what was probably not more than two or three minutes, the girls returned with an a question. I trembled at the thought of what kind of question these two tipsy women that knew me so carnally and now talked about me so openly could have produced? Which one is prettier? Which one is sexier? Which one gives a better blowjob? These are the horror scenarios that raced through my mind. Resigned to my fate, I swallowed hard and asked what the question was.

"Can you tell us apart?" Really? That was their question? How silly. Of course I could! They didn't look anything alike. Their hair was different color, their voices were different, their.... Wait. That's when it dawned on me. That was about it! I never knowingly pursued any particular type of woman but I realized that they were incredibly alike. Same shape, same weight, same height, hair was different color but in the dark -being virtually the same style and length- that was much as makes no difference, indistinguishable too. Being 1/2 drunk there in the dark, they could have been twins. I was screwed. 

"Of course I can!" I lied. They countered, "Ok, prove it." They exchanged a plotting, evil grin. It was then I played my trump card. I reached my left hand for my wife's breast and my right hand for my ex's. "Easy, because your tits are pierced and yours aren't." I gave them each a squeeze. Shock! They were both pierced. They laughed. "Don't you think we thought if that?" said my ex. She wasn't pierced when we were together. In fact, I remember her saying it would be a cold day in hell before she let anyone stick a needle in her nipple. I guess hell got an air conditioner. 

They pulled away from me then grabbed my still outstretched arms by my wrists and led me away to the dunes. "We don't think you like us for us," my wife began. "You just like how we look and you'd fuck anyone who looks like this," my ex continued. They found a little sandy clearing behind a stand of beach wheat and removed my shirt, then shoes, socks and pants so I was left only on my boxers. Then they began to strip. Having shed their own close, I began alarmingly aware of the painful erection now on full display for them to see. "Awe, it remembers me," said my ex. The girls and I chuckled. "But tell your friend this isn't what it thinks," said my wife as she carelessly grabbed by out-thrust cock and gave it a single tug. "You only get to fuck one of us," she continued, "unless you can tell who is who. If you can, then you get to fuck the other too." I felt my shirt being draped over my head like a convict at the gallows. Then fingers stretching the waistband of my boxers as they were quickly pulled down my legs and I dutifully stepped out of them. 

Then, a very soft voice in my ear, "Wait five seconds then turn around, kneel and fuck!" Only which voice? It was barely a whisper and with the sound of waves crashing nearby, totally unrecognizable. Dammit! Not that it mattered. It doesn't mean that the whisper came from the one I was about to fuck. I counted to five; I turned around and dropped to my knees, and shuffled forward groping the dark. I found flesh, soft and smooth. First one orb, then its twin; a perfectly shaped ass floating in space. I touched it gingerly. Fingertips only. I felt the goosebumps rise from the skin as I explored. My other hand joined in, rubbing in small circles.

I felt skin tense then relax under my touch. My hands were very warm on the exposed skin that was cooled by an almost chilling night sea breeze. More goosebumps, but I massaged them back into the surface, only to have them reappear again with the next wind. My hands searched more. I extended my range up the lower back and down around the waist. I dug my fingers in slightly as I drew back along the sides of her waist, back to the swell of her hips and around again to meet at the crease of the buttocks. I inched forward again. I placed my palms flat on the small of her back, pressed down firmly and pushed forward, up either side of the spine, I fanned my fingers wide to cover the whole of her back and continued forward until I nearly reached the tops of her shoulders. I stopped short when the bulbous head of my cock bumped her leg. She gasped. I heard a faint giggle from over my shoulder. I was being watched, but by who? 

I didn't know which woman was down in all fours right in front of me, preparing to be taken and which one was now standing behind me, with a perfect view of the impending debauchery. Did it matter? Why did I care? I was trembling ever so slightly at the thought that it might be my ex fiancé about to watch me penetrate my wife, but then I was terrified at the thought that I could be my wife, my love, my one and only about to watch me defile another woman. And my ex to boot?! My mind reeled and I almost forgot where I was until I felt a gentle hand close around my shaft. "Need help finding it, do you?" breathed hot and barely audible into my ear. The hand closed ever so lightly around my length and coaxed me forward. I felt the heat coming off the silken crevice just before my swollen knob made contact. A low moan from in front of me was quickly hushed from beside me with a "shhhhhhhh." 

A reassuring push on my shoulder told me to press forward and into the warm fleshy embraces of my mystery partner. I reveled in the conflicting sensations of the cool, clean air around me and the churning heat within. I felt lost; almost virginal. I was in new sexual territory for the first time in years and I couldn't decide if I wanted it to last forever or to begin pounding away like a sex-crazed lunatic to relieve the knot of tension that these two wicked temptresses had tied so tightly down in the pit of my loins. I decided that if it was torturing me that they fancied, I was going to return the favor; even if only to one of them. I gave up all pretenses of passion and hesitation. I greedily seized the hips of my prey, and with one hard lunge forward, I buried my throbbing manhood right up to the hilt. Like twin wrecking balls, my testicles made an audible crack as they whipped squarely against the protruding little clit before me. 

My effort was met with a shrill scream of pain and delight. I instantly felt the familiar palpitations of orgasm around my well planted cock. I held fast and ground my hips into the smooth backside. I withdrew until only the head remained hidden from view, then drove home again. Hard. As hard as I could. I wanted to knock her off her knees; whoever she was. I wanted her to speak. To beg for more or beg for mercy, I didn't care which but I was desperate to know who I was assaulting with such abandon but she wouldn't yield her secret. Whimpering through a painfully bitten lip punctuated by a needy gasp for breath is all I could elicit. I changed tactic. I now pulled fully out on each back-stroke. I withdrew completely, paused, and then tore back through with a swift gavel-slamming motion. 

Then finally a voice, but from just behind my shoulder: "Yes! Fuck her!" Now I felt a warm body press against my back. Hands followed the trace of my shoulders, down my arms and over my hands, then fingers meshing with mine. A chin now rested on my neck. Then that hot breath in my ear again: "I said fuck her!"I felt fingers slip between my own as they now gripped the rotating hips in front of me and dug in even harder than I had. The perfect breasts pressed hard at my back and then the smooth pubic mound at my ass that quickly fell into rhythm with me. I could no longer fully withdraw but now I was locked between these two insane women. Helping one to fuck the other. I now realized what they wanted all along, a living dildo. A surrogate cock. I was merely a means of achieving one woman's penetration of the other! And I relished it all the more. 

Now, instead of trying to knock the poor, outnumbered girl off her balance, I had to actively aid her to keep it against the force of impact from myself and the fuck twin glued to my back. I knew I couldn't hold out much longer. This had all been too intense for me to maintain. I felt compelled to announce that I was going to cum very soon. That sent the two into frenzy. Overlapping moans, gasps and "yes's filled the air. One of the hands that were helping hold my prey released itself and was quickly shoved behind my back. I could feel knuckles twisting and rolling away at my ass and I knew the fingers attached to the other end of them were furiously grinding away at the warm, wet pussy behind me. 

My thrusts slowed, and became more deliberate once more. I heard the familiar groan fill the throat of the head on my shoulder and felt a spray of warm fluid splattered across my ass by a still angrily churning hand. This was the last I could take. A sound welled up from within me that I could not willing duplicate on my own. I tilled my head back toward the heavens and croaked low and loudly: "Oh fuck, I'm going... to... cummm!" And with one last powerful slam home, my balls tightened up to my body and squeezed hard to bring forth the boiling hot liquid from deep inside myself. I held fast in place as my cock began to pulse and twitch uncontrollably. At last, my dam burst. One huge stream of semen exploded into the wildly spasming vagina that encased me, followed by another and another. 

A loud shriek pierced the dark and my own tide was met with another. I was suddenly awash in a warm bath of fluids mixed with my own, still pumping away inside. This proved to be too much for her little body to contain and our secretions leaked heavily from all around our juncture; down our legs and all over the sand beneath us. Now, I was spent, as were we all. My knees shuddered and rather than collapse on top of someone, I fell limply to the side. A loud popping sound rang out as if to trumpet an end to my orgasm. As my cock pulled free from the still tightly gripping insides that had milked me so thoroughly, I felt a torrent of fluid bathe my thighs and my cock slapped loudly against my leg. 

I became lost in time. I heard shuffling very nearby, panting to reclaim breath, and gentle gasps and moans of afterglow. I slipped into a trance-like state of euphoria and waited for the pounding heart in my chest to subside. Just then I heard a couple giggles followed by the rustle of bodies. The girls scrambled to their feet. No, goddamit! I ripped my shirt off my head only in time to see their two bodies disappear into the dark, toward the water. No! I gave chase. They beat me to the water and were splashing around waist-deep. My eyes now adjusted to the dark once more, I could see them clearly.

My wife spoke: "So, did you fuck me?" 

"Or me?" said my ex. 

"How long do I have to decide?" Laughter all the way around.

"You really don't know do you?"

"Um, well kinda..."

"Ha-ha, bullshit! You have no idea. Well, I hope you really enjoyed it because that's all you're getting tonight," said my ex.

"Maybe ever again," chimed my wife.

More laughter. 

We left the water and shook dry as best we could before returning to our clothes. For the next half hour, we talked about the comedians and generally innocuous topics as we worked our way back to the hotel, through the lobby, and back out to the car, unable the mask the freshly fucked smiled on our faces as we passed the night desk clerk. 

The alcohol having now been completely burned out of my system, along with all my energy, I asked if anyone else would like to stop on the way to my ex's house for a bite to eat. The girls said they didn't mind stopping but they really weren't hungry. Still, I was famished, so I pulled into an all night dinner just up the road. 

It's funny how a woman who isn't hungry at all can fall victim so quickly to a good milkshake. I order a burger and coke while my ladies each got a shake. Food gone, and tab paid, a restroom break was in order before we got back on the road. It being just after 3am by now, the place was deserted. We outnumbered the staff 3to2, since only the fry cook and one waitress were on duty. As you would expect, the girls headed off together and I followed; making a left into the men's room at the end of the long corridor in the very back of the restaurant instead of a right into the ladies room. Quickly I relieved myself then had an epiphany. I smiled to myself as I left the men's room to hatch my evil plan. 

I took a quick glance back up the hallway toward the dining room and verifying the emptiness of the place, proceeded into the ladies room and closed the door behind me. "Hmmm, someone must still be a little tipsy because he can't tell the men's sign from the women's," noted my wife to the closed door of the stall beside her as she stood washing her hands at the neighboring sink.I stepped up behind her and planted a hand on either side of hers on the sink. "I know which of you I fucked," I cooed in her ear. "I know that you were behind me the whole time." She let out a little gasp and half turned her head in surprise. She quickly regained she playful composure and said: "Oh really? And how did you arrive at your conclusion honey?"

I lifted my left hand and placed it over hers at the sink's edge. I pushed my fingers down in between her fingers until they fanned out. I pressed my lips to her ear, sending a shiver through her body. "Because I felt our rings grinding together when you reached around me to help me pound her." She pushed me back and spun around with her back now resting at the sink's edge, "You bastard, when did you figure it out?"

"While I was at the urinal, I looked down at my wedding ring and remember feeling the metal tapping and grinding against yours."

"What's going on out there?"came a voice from the stall. My wife answered: "He's got us, sweetie. He figured it out."

The stall door unlatched and swung open. My ex turned fully to me; "No fucking way! How could he possibly...?"

"My rings honey. I forgot to take them off," confessed my wife. The ex cut her a quick sideways glance. When her gaze returned to me, I had my left hand lifted to eye level and pointed at my wedding ring with my other hand. "You always were too smart for your own good, you know that don't you?" By way of an answer, I just lowered my hand and smiled my biggest smile. "Was and still is," said the wife. 

"Now, about that wager," I continued as I reached behind myself and locked the restroom door.