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The Sisterhood

By: FD45



The Sisterhood

When I read this story, I saw a slightly different direction. The Sisterhood itself, so intrinsic to the story, got short shrift. Slow _n_Gentle graciously allowed me to use his toys. Many thanks to him and I hope he feels he got them back in the same condition in which he loaned them.

This story dovetails into "Revolt of the Nerd' and "The Sisterhood" but it in not necessary to read either one to enjoy this story...I think.

This story was partially inspired by an Anonymous poster in StangStar's "The Love Boat". She commented that too many of these stories had women who were horrid and reflected badly on their gender. She liked the Love Boat because it actually had a female character she could applaud for. Someone who felt remorse of more then losing a meal ticket.

So, Anonymous, this story is for you. I hope you enjoy it.

The story is dedicated to all the conversations I've had with women which I didn't understand until some woman graciously explained it to me.

There is no sex.

*

The knock on the door startled Rebecca. She'd just gotten back from the gym and her hair was still damp as she walked out of the laundry room where she put her dirty gym things. She had made it a habit every time she came in.

A frown passed her face. Bob was out golfing and wasn't due in for at least another 2 hours. And since it was a weekend, she wasn't expecting any tradesmen or deliveries.

She peeked curiously out one of the beveled medallions in the stained glass side windows of her door. It was a nicely dressed blonde woman in her early forties, attractive with a firmly set jaw. She didn't have a handful of tracts or pamphlets and she was alone. Normally, if it was religious fanatics, they came in pairs. It seemed safe.

She opened the door. "May I help you?"

"Hello. Rebecca Wright? I'm Brenda. How are you?"

"Hi. Do I know you?" she asked puzzled.

"No. I'm the roving editor for the Sigma Omega Delts. I happened to be in town and since you're one of the members, I figured I'd stop in and see if any of your personal information has changed since the last reunion for when I update the book." She reached into her bag and pulled out a small white book with the ΣΩΔ characters printed on raised lettering on the front. Rebecca automatically reached out to shake her hand.

"Where are my manners? I'm Brenda Davi...Brenda Cuthbert." At the look of askance on Rebecca's face, she quickly explained. "I was divorced a few years ago and reverted to my maiden name again. Sometimes I still make that mistake."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. Were you married long?"

A shadow passed over her face. "Just shy of ten years."

"Won't you come in?"

Brenda looked around the nicely appointed living room. "You have a very lovely home. It must have been a lot of hard work to get things just right."

"Oh...you know. It was a bunch of work, but I think it was worth the effort. Luckily, my husband was smart enough to stay out of it. Otherwise it would probably look like some sport's bar."

Brenda gave her a look askance at this. She saw a set of photos on an antique rolltop desk. "Is this Bob your husband?" she asked.

"Oh yes. That was from a bunch of years ago." Her tone indicated that the years hadn't necessarily been kind to her husband.

"Well, none of us are twenty two anymore, are we?" Brenda told the mid thirty housewife. 

Rebecca was self aware enough to realize her gaffe. "Oh, you look amazing. You must take good care of yourself."

"I do now. Bob looks like a keeper."

Rebecca blinked. "I guess. Of course I love him to death. Would you like some iced tea? I have some in the back."

"That would be wonderful." 

"You'll have to excuse me." she shouted from the kitchen. "I just came back from the gym and I was in the middle of putting some dirty laundry away." 

She started to walk out with a pair of filled glasses. She stopped and considered. Then she pulled out a tray, put a napkin on top like a table cloth, set down the glasses, carved up a pair of slices of lime as garnish, and set some cookies on a plate. It was always a good idea to leave a good impression on your fellow sisters.

Brenda was comfortably sitting on a love seat, a small white binder on her lap with glasses perched on her nose and a red fine tipped Sharpie in her hand. "Thank you so much." She took a sip. "This is lovely iced tea. You didn't have to go to all this trouble for me."

"Oh, it's no bother, really. So what year did you graduate? And which college were you in?"

"Mmm!" she said around her tea. "Sorry. I don't belong to your sorority. I just edit for it. I used to belong to a sorority back in the day called the Sisterhood."

A faded memory nagged at Rebecca. "I can't say I recall that. I know it wasn't at my school. Was it a local one?"

"Oh no. It was national. But they shut down operations more then ten years ago."

"Oh. That's too bad. What happened to it?"

"I did."

"Excuse me?"

"A number of Sisters and I happened."

"That sounds like a story." Becky said.

"No, it sounds like a scandal." Brenda watched Rebecca lean forward on the couch, hooked.

"I was like you. I went to high school. I was pretty so I was popular. I dated a lot, lost my cherry and I went to college." Her eyes got a far away look. "And like most of us, I got a little wild in college. No parents. No rules. No one monitoring my bedtime and money. To make matters worse, I had already decided that I liked sex a lot without any of those guilty feelings most girls carried around."

"How is that worse?" Rebecca asked uncomfortably. She recalled her own days in school. Women liked sex. This wasn't the fifties for God's sakes!

"It wasn't good for me." Brenda quickly amended. "It would have helped put a brake on the things I did later. See, my parents weren't church goers. They were more laissez faire."

"Anyway," she continued, "I went to school and I majored in 'party' for the first few weeks. I had more lovers those first weeks then I had in my 4 years of high school, not that that was a high bar. Except we started to go to a bunch of frat parties." She trailed off.

"We?"

"Sorry. I started to go to a bunch of frat parties and because I still thought I was still in Small Town USA, I didn't think twice about going alone."

"Uh oh."

"Yeah. Big Uh Oh. That was when the 'roofie' thing just got started. I hadn't heard about roofies. None of us girls had. And..." she blushed a deep crimson, her eyes falling into her lap.

Rebecca reached out her hand and grasped it. "Oh my God!"

"No...no. It didn't happen. But just barely. I woke up in a strange room naked but I hadn't been...used. There were these two girls I vaguely remembered from the party there looking at me. They gave me what for about being stupid and not being careful. They saw what was happening and got me out of there."

"Then...what were you doing naked?"

"I asked that too. I checked myself thoroughly, but I hadn't had sex that night. She told me that she wanted me to know exactly how stupid I was and how badly things could have gone by me being a stupid bitch."

"Anyway, their names were Beth and Amy and they wanted me to join a Sorority of sorts. It was called the Sisterhood."

"That's wonderful!" Rebecca gushed. "I mean...that's what a sorority should be like. Looking out for you. I guess you joined."

"Yes. They told me all about it. All about networking, having fun as a student, helping one another as a career." Rebecca nodded in understanding. The Sigma Omega Delts had similar goals. "Well, Beth and Amy recruited for the Sisterhood. For the most part, it was prosaic. It picked smart, disciplined, pretty, socially active girls. They helped with school work. They pointed out good and bad teachers. They'd trade secrets about who was and wasn't a good date, provide cover if you needed to break a date, and watch our backs. Anyone Frattie who pissed off the Sisterhood would see their reputation destroyed with all the other Sisters and Sororities. I mean, a guy could be stupid, but their Frat wouldn't cover for him. We could have sex without too much worry and it was tacitly encouraged, though not forced. Later, as we got closer to graduation, we'd have internships arranged, some career help, and some help to look for The One."

"The One?" Rebecca fidgeted.

"Yes. A nice, social guy who seemed to have real potential as an earner. One you clicked with. The guy you were going to marry."

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"No. It wasn't. But the problem was, some girls didn't see it quite that way, including Beth and Amy. They asked Marcie and I, another girl almost raped at the party, to join the Sisterhood, but then they talked us into a modified version of it."

"You see, some of the girls looked at successful husbands who married young, built a career with their wives, and then dumped them as scum. They noticed that mothers didn't get promoted quickly. The glass ceiling was biological. Men had all kinds of biological freedom and used it to advance their careers. Well...they felt that there was no reason for women to be any better then the men. Why be loyal if they were just going to toss us aside after our best years were wasted? Why not fuck to get ahead? Men would if they swung that way. We wanted to use our biological benefits to the max."

"So Marcie and I joined the regular Sisterhood, but we signed up for Beth and Amy's plan."

"What was the plan?"

Brenda sighed in remembrance. "It was simple. Instead of finding a guy who we'd marry for the rest of our life, we'd find a guy likely to be successful but totally socially inept. That way, we'd keep control of the marriage, wouldn't love him and after ten years, when the law mandated a wife get at least half of his assets, we divorce him. Of course, we wouldn't ruin our figures or futures with children, at least not with the first one. No. We were grabbing all the assets we could, fucking our way up the corporate ladder, and then go looking for The One after the starter husband."

With a horrified look, Rebecca whispered "That's awful. You say you were okay with this?" She suddenly backpedaled. Women didn't like confrontation "I mean..."

"No, you're right." Brenda put her hands over her eyes, so she didn't have to look at the other woman. "It was awful. But...we'd all seen old men with young women hanging on their arms. Do you think that was their first relationship? How many men cheat on their wives? Many and many more. Shamelessly. We didn't just do it. We discussed it. A third more men cheated then women. All of us had been cheated on by a boyfriend and there was nothing wrong with us. So why should we be faithful if that was the best we could expect?"

Rebecca was riveted. "What happened?"

"We just went to all the social things with the Sisterhood and had our own little secret social gatherings discussing tactics and which men were good 'players' and which guys were good 'assets'."

"Players? Assets?" 

"Players were guys you liked to fuck. Not marriage material. Hell, not even boy friend material. But they were certainly toe curling lover material." Her voice got a bit nostalgic as she thought back. "The others were uber nerds whom we'd train, marry and help on their career path. I met mine in Matt."

"Matt Davis?" Rebecca asked, remembering the woman's slip when she introduced herself.

A small wince passed Brenda's face at hearing his name. "Yes. He was a programmer. He was SUCH a dork! It took me forever to get him to work up the courage to ask me out. Hell, I had to demand he do it or dump me. He tried so hard! He sent me notes. He helped me with my homework. He bought me as much as he could with the nothing he had."

"But he wasn't a player?"

"Matt? Hell no!" But there was a hesitation in her voice, one they both noted. "He trained up very nicely," she explained. Her voice took on that familiar tone "I mean, you know how it is. Even the best player in the world doesn't bring you off every time and sometimes you don't even want that. It's enough to be there, to be doing what you're doing. To know that the other person cares enough to shower you with attention."

"You mean to feel loved." Rebecca said.

Brenda grimaced. "Yes."

"So?" Rebecca pressed. "You met Matt and...?"

"And I seduced him. I made him think I was a one woman girl. Meanwhile, I was 'experiencing my freedom as a woman'. I had a string of guys. He was a year ahead of me, so while he was establishing a career, I was...'experimenting'."

"And he never suspected?"

"No. Marcie covered for me a time or two. We were roomies with benefits. He trusted me. He loved me. While I was fucking Zack and others, he was buying a house and decorating it the way I liked."

Rebecca fell silent. She didn't want to say how she felt about this.

"I can see your disapproval in your face. I understand and I agree with you. I went and got a job in the same company with Matt. In fact, all of us did. Marcie, another Secret Sister June, and I all went to this insurance company. We flirted and fucked our way to a few nice promotions. Heck, I even spread to help Matt's career. After all, any raises he got, I'd get more then half of the money when I left him."

Her voice got nostalgic again. "I thought I had it all. A secure future, a doting husband, my bad boys on the side."

"I assume something happened."

"Yes. The plan with our secret side of the Sisterhood was simple. We'd marry some guy, milk him of money, keep control of the finances and after ten years, dump him with a sudden ambush divorce and look for the next guy. I guess I should have had some second thoughts when it was Women Studies majors who came up with this stupid, stupid scheme."

"And I was making all the right moves. I had established a secret account and had been squirreling cash in there from our 401ks, minimizing my bonuses, hiding raises. I'd been able to steal over $200 grand into my little account."

"And Matt never knew?"

"He found out." she said bitterly.

"How?"

"I don't know! He was a trusting nerd. He should have been so thankful I was putting out, that he should never have questioned anything, right? " She laughed ruefully. "I guess I should have seen it coming. He was blinded to my flaws by lust and beauty. Why shouldn't I be blind to his virtues because of my contempt?"

"One of the things about nerds is that they are smart. My Matt was always smart. He used to find the flaws in tech manuals. And somehow, something made him aware of what I was doing."

"What happened?"

"The Sisterhood met every third weekend in August. A nice little meet and greet mixer for a day or two. Our...splinter section met the entire week before that. We'd have our boys over. We'd reconnect with out fellow Sisters in all kinds of ways..." she trailed off.

"LUGs" Rebecca chimed in.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh just something I heard. Lesbians Until Graduation."

"Well, on that week, it was back to college for sure. Marcie and I never trailed off during my marriage."

"It sounds like quite an orgy."

"Oh, it was more then just that. There was regular socializing. We took trips together. We'd talk about how women were actually their most desirable at 32, just when we were anticipating being divorced. About how many men threw over their wives and we weren't going to be victims of the Patriarchy. It was just all so much bullshit, a little adulterous rah rah club to make us believe we weren't doing anything wrong. Weren't we giving these guys the best years of our lives in exchange for a little cash? We were the ones sacrificing by being with these nerds. And yet, every single time...I remember when Beth and Amy and Marie dropped the bomb that they'd finally divorced their men. We all giggled and drank way too much and we fucked a lot of guys in celebration of their freedom, with them leading the pack."

"You were overcompensating," Rebecca offered. Brenda looked at her hands and didn't reply.

"What happened?" the housewife asked, as the silence dragged on.

"My husband happened. I'd just gotten done fucking Zack upstairs in the shower at the hotel during our secret Sisterhood reunion. Eight of us girls and a few guys besides Zack went downstairs to have breakfast. I was eating and my life...just...stopped. I'd met Janet Lawson before. She's one of the most important Sisters in the organization and it turns out Matt's divorce attorney. And there she was. I was fumbling for some explanation as to why we were all there before the big weekend, wondering why she was there. I mean, we normally had a secret Sister make all the reunion arrangements so we could keep our activities private. One of these men called my name and I was served divorce papers. Zack got hit with alienation of affection papers. Every single girl there got a file with photos of their infidelity and a note mentioning they had been sent to their husbands."

"Oh no!" While Becky thought they brought it on themselves, she could just imagine herself in that same situation. "How...how did they take it? I mean, that was what they wanted in the first place, right? It just came a bit sooner."

"I can't tell you. I...wasn't at my best. I wasn't noticing anything. The hits just kept coming. My stupid, clueless husband, the one who loved me unconditionally, just told me I wasn't worth being with anymore. And I realized in that instant, that when he kissed me good bye on that trip to the Reunion, when he spent that final night ringing my chimes like he never had before, that he knew. That he'd outfoxed the fox, he'd outmaniputlated the manipulator, and he out acted the actress. I never had any real respect for him before. He was a nicely trained cock and paycheck and...But now...suddenly what I'd lost all came crashing down on me. It wasn't supposed to be this way." She trailed off, looking at nothing.

"Anyway, I wasn't noticing anything much, since I was trying to process him leaving me. I mean, I was in charge of the relationship. I was girl any guy was lucky to have. I wasn't dumped. It took the cashier three times to tell me that my credit card was declined. I had to ask Marcie to pay for it."

"Marcie was the only one of us who wasn't despondent. The others...looking back, a lot of them were shattered. They were barely ready for the divorces when they were in charge, much less ambushed like this. When we had these little group therapy sessions, we could buoy each other up, rationalizing our actions and saying we really weren't doing anything wrong. We'd trot out all the slights and hurts that our husbands 'abused' us with and pretended to look forward to the day when it all ended. I was nearing the finish line so I was pretty mentally prepared and even I couldn't function for two days."

"My husband and Janet removed the secrecy that allowed us to lie to ourselves. They held a mirror up to all of us and showed us know how selfish, conniving and backstabbing we were. We were worse then the successful men who eventually went out for some trophy wife. At least they generally didn't go into the marriage with a specific plan to defraud their wives, at least not most of them. The whole 'Tom Cruise/ Nicole Kidman' still rubs me a little wrong." she said with a wry self deprecating grin.

"Yes...I was a wreck. All my stuff was in storage, my credit cards were stopped, my ATM account was virtually empty, my husband left me a note in my car that the locks had been changed on our...his house..."

"All the things you planned on doing to him."

This earned her a sharp glance. "Trust me, the irony still isn't lost on me." Brenda said dryly. "It was one of the most emotionally devastating things I've ever felt. I guess adding the fact that he would be fucking around behind my back would be worse." Rebecca winced.


The Sisterhood



"Wait...why wasn't Marcie shattered? Didn't they send the pictures to her husband too?"

She paused. "Marcie...poor Marcie. She kept me together that first day. She took me to her house. Ben and Marcie had been...well, Marcie was a Friend with Benefits since college. Matt and Ben were both kind nebbishes and they just clicked. So we socialized with them a lot. Heck, they moved into the same neighborhood. They were walking distance away."

"We went to her house and there was a huge pile of mail all nicely sorted. There on the top was the mailer with the pictures of Marcie screwing around. We were both screwing four of the upper managers in our company and one of them was my husband's supervisor. He had Matt running around a lot on travel so we could meet. Quinn, Duncan, Frank and Ralph. One or another or all on a Saturday. I know...we were shameless."

"But there is the mailer open and Ben obviously saw them, and yet, when he came home, he seemed fine. More then fine. He cooked us dinner and served us like a waiter."

"She'd taken a very imperious tone with him in the house and he just complied, though he kept shooting her these looks. But it was always 'yes dear' this and 'yes dear' that. She told him to unpack me, and arrange to get my stuff at the storage bin the next day. She demanded that all my stuff be put away and ironed. The looks he was giving her were more and more pointed and I felt embarrassed for him and appalled by her attitude. Finally, when things were getting a bit tense, she told him to get to his 'special place'."

"We drank for a while and then...well," she blushed deep red. "I mentioned that we were friends with benefits. She...well, she pressed herself on me. I was feeling like my dog died and here my best friend was pushing me to have sex with her in their master bedroom while her husband was who knows where. I was incredibly uncomfortable! Don't get me wrong. I'd shared things with her before but..."

Rebecca cleared her throat uncomfortably, looking like she was getting ready to interrupt.

Brenda forestalled her. "This has some bearing on your question. I'm sorry. You wanted to know what happened to Marcie."

"So...we were intimate. You know how it is. You go along because they feel bad, or it's easier to get things over with, or you think maybe something like that might make you feel better, though normally it doesn't. Sometimes it's easier to put out." Rebecca nodded.

Brenda's eyes started to dart around, not looking at the housewife. "And after we were finished...Marcie said 'you can come out now' and HER NAKED HUSBAND got out of the closet where he was obviously masturbating. I was mortified! I mean, I'd had group sex before. I'd performed for my lovers. I'd acted things out. You know...stuff to get things a little hotter. But that was consensual! I felt...a little betrayed because she never asked if I wanted to be a show! I knew Marcie had a weird relationship with her husband, but this! He looked a bit put out too, but he just held a towel to his crotch and slunk to his room."

"I really didn't know how to deal with any of that. Marcie explained at breakfast that Ben was a submissive. He got off on seeing her have sex with others and being ordered around, but she generally didn't let her partners know he watched to protect his pride and reputation. But since it was me, she thought it was okay. Didn't every man want to watch a couple of girls get it on? I had a few hard words to her about getting my approval first next time."

"The weekend dragged by. We reviewed the paperwork and Marcie found me a lawyer. Obviously she and Ben weren't breaking up since he seemed fully aware of what was going on in her life, though both of Ben and I were uncomfortable around each other. Marcie wanted me to stay and I had nowhere else to go."

"Monday we were told to quit and they'd give us a good reference and a small severance package. The reference was a bit weak, but I couldn't blame them. The four managers we were whoring ourselves out to were all fired. From what I heard, their marriages didn't survive either. So we were up to 6 divorces so far including Zack."

"The Sisterhood sued. They wanted the 26 of us to pay $50,000 each in breach of contract. Janet Lawson met me just before I went to trial. She said 'Brenda, you broke your word. Just pay up and let's make this go away. Don't be stupid like the other girls. The Sisters are really pissed!' She looked worn out and tired. She kept glaring at me for some reason that I couldn't fathom. I mean, we all liked Matt, but to get this worked up over a personal matter like a divorce? It wasn't like I cheated on her. "

"I got angry at her and told my lawyer to fight it tooth and nail. The judge agreed with us. Some outdated morals contract by a sorority? Being worth $50,000? Seriously? He told her that the Sisterhood could expel or keep who it wanted but he wasn't about to inflict such a large financial burden on a newly grieving divorcee."

"I brought Marcie with me, and that proved to be a big mistake. After we got the case thrown out, we approached Janet. She was looking grim. 'You should have settled. This was a big mistake' she told us."

"'Our mistake was getting caught. We had perfectly fine careers before you ruined them for us. And we'll be perfectly fine after." Marcie shot at her."

"'You think so?' was what Janet said. She said 'I've seen your type before. You think you invented sex and can just redefine how men and women react. That's why we set up the Sisterhood the way we did. We'd get the itch between our legs scratched while it didn't matter, and then go on to have nice wonderful husbands who we could spend the rest of our lives with. But you think that doesn't apply to you, that you can have it all without cost. Guess again. Now I get to deal with the fallout.' "

"What fallout?" Becky jumped in and asked.

Brenda looked sad. "Matt...my husband got me good. He not only kept his share of the assets, but also took most of my secret account. But there were the three husbands of Amy, Beth and Marie who had been left out in the cold. Their wives took almost everything. They knew they were taken for a ride by their wives since Matt told them. Matt had the emails discussing the conspiracy. So Jim Thompson, Amy's ex, asked him for any relevant information to help him reopen his case. You know, to show that there was a breach of contract from the start of the marriage to get the assets re-divided. And my poor simple Matt did that. He sent him everything discussing the conspiracy...including a copy of the Sisterhood archive with all the names, addresses and email addresses of every Sister out there." 

Rebecca started to go pale. She didn't see exactly where this was going, but the tone made it ominous. "What happened?" she said in a whisper.

"The Sisterhood was going to try to make things right with these guys. Janet was going to take their case and maybe sweeten the pot with a little extra cash and some fervent apologies. But you know how sometimes women go slowly and try to find the exact right way to do or word things? Well, guys get focused and mad and do something quick, pointed, hurtful and incredibly stupid. He sent out a packet to every single Sisters' husband telling them exactly what the Sisterhood was, what they did, how they planned on divorcing them by stealing their assets. He gave names, court cases, and copies of the emails. He wanted blood. Not just the Secret Sisters. ALL the Sisters!"

"Oh...My...GOD!"

"Yes..." she said dryly. "Marcie and I started to get very nasty phone calls from girls we'd known for years and I didn't understand why until I called Janet. She explained things to me in very clipped tones. And she said 'As a personal aside, my husband, the man I had three children with, the one I interned for creepy Old Man Ferguson with the grabby hands and the halitosis so I could pay for part of his education, the man I've been married to for 20 FUCKING years. I've caught him going through my credit card slips and phone records and I dare not say a thing because of your group!' I remember that conversation like it was yesterday. I knew...I knew then that things would get very, very bad."

"I asked her about Matt. After all, he was involved by sending that info. She was quiet on the phone for a while and said 'There might be hope for you yet. We aren't going after Matt. He wasn't responsible. Your group was.' Then she hung up on me."

"Now, this was a couple of months later. My divorce was over...my...divorce was over. I was now back to being Miss Brenda Cuthbert, ex wife, ex Sister, ex rising star, ex well, I'd like to say 'ex whore' but I wasn't done yet. I hadn't quite learned my lesson. But I had teachers, oh MY how I had teachers!"

"Did you get over the divorce?"

Brenda was silent for a long moment. "I can't eat blueberry pancakes."

"Excuse me?"

"It was a stupid little couple thing." Her tone attempted to be dismissive, but there was a brittleness to it. "Back when we were dating and intimate, Matt once made me blueberry pancakes from scratch. They were okay but I said 'Mmm. My favorite!' I mean, it's a throw away pleasantry. No one with a smidgeon of social skill takes them at face value, but damn if I shouldn't have bought stock in blueberry futures! He would have fed them to me morning, noon and night. And you can't just tell a guy that you were lying or didn't mean it or to chill out without risking his ego. He eventually calmed down, but every so often, he'd make a batch and he'd lift every pancake and put butter on every slice and dab my favorite syrup so every bite tasted perfect and..." she cut off abruptly as she put her head down and her shoulders shook. Rebecca silently handed her a box of tissues which she used gratefully.

Sensing they needed to change the subject, Rebecca asked. "What happened? What teachers?"

"Marcie and I got a different job. Still together, joined at the hip" she said ironically. "And we worked hard! We were getting the 'lay of the land'. If you're going to try to sleep with someone to try to further your career, you need to pick the right person. He has to be discrete and grateful and married. These were some of the tactics the Secret Sisters discussed. If you get Joe Gland, he's going to pump and dump without doing a thing for you."

"But I'd been burned so I was VERY careful. I thought I had a good guy lined up and started to discretely flirt and had only slept with one hard sale when I got called into human resources. A co-worker accused me of creating a hostile work environment and they were giving me my walking papers."

"I caught her name at the bottom of the piece of paper and after I left, I stormed away to have a 'chat' with this little bitch! My supervisor got demoted and I'd blown an account because of this bitch. I got to her cubicle and there she was, packing her stuff in boxes."

"I asked her how she could do this to me and she said 'You slept with that account and were flirting with your supervisor. I did nothing.'"

"I gestured to her boxes and asked where the hell she was going if she already got me fired. 'I got a job at Morgan Stanley,' she smirked. Now, this girl was a frigging secretary. She didn't have the mental heft to be working where she was, much less at Morgan Stanley. She gave me this worldly smirk and said 'It's nice to have Sisters.' Then she walked away."

"She wasn't a Sister. I knew most of them by sight. I felt their fingers in this, but I needed to make sure. So I went to my stored computer at Marcie's to check who worked where. All my files were gone! Matt had erased them. I couldn't be sure who worked for who anymore!"

"I put out resumes to a lot of the larger companies and I never got an interview despite almost 10 years of great work history. I wrote the names down of every company I remembered a Sister working at and started to avoid them. But one HR guy who had his nose buried in my cleavage during an interview told me that they'd gotten an email list from another highly regarded company with a list of 26 unreliables and mine was one of them. I was on a 'no hire' list. That still didn't stop the bastard from asking me for a date, but it certainly kept him from giving me a job."

"I remember one job that I had...within a week, all the women in the office were looking at me funny. I suddenly got asked out on a lot of dates from half the men. The other half treated me like a leper. Finally I asked around and it seems that my entire sordid past had been passed around the office water cooler. Management wasn't amused and kept a very close eye on me. After missing the third promotion I deserved, I got the message and quit. I was in quite a bind. I could use sex appeal to land a job, but if I did, then I'd open myself up to all kinds of allegations and ruin my job."

"What about Marcie?"

"Marcie got it worse."

"HOW?"

"I was there when it happened. Ben came home late from work without calling. Marcie, giggling, was thinking of some punishment to inflict on him like she normally did. I mean, he KNEW he'd be punished if he broke the rules so he had to be okay with it, right? All it took was a phone call to avoid it so it must have been mutual."

"So we're sitting there, waiting for him to come home and apologize and cook us dinner like he should. He was a great cook and we loved his meals. Well, he came in and without looking at us and without a word, he went upstairs, despite Marcie calling to him, ordering him into the kitchen. She chased after him and he'd gone to his room and locked the door. Marcie pounded on the door for a while, calling to him in low and increasingly aggressive tones, I think threatening him. She was still in her Dom/Sub game mode, thinking he was upping the ante. She finally came downstairs with an odd look in her eye. 'Something is wrong'"

"We waited and could hear him moving and throwing stuff around and then he came down with two suitcases. He still wouldn't meet her eye. She ran in front of him and commanded him into the kitchen, breathing hard."

"He finally looked her in the eye and said 'It's over'. "What do you mean it's over?' she demanded. 'I mean, the men at work have seen...have seen...' He broke down and handed her a few photos. She gave a cry and turned white as a sheet. It was a picture of him wearing only an apron with her paddling his ass and that was the mildest of them."

""This doesn't mean anything!' She screamed at him. 'We can move! We can be happy elsewhere! A place where people don't know! Don't do this!' She was getting more and more agitated."

"He told her that he couldn't do this anymore. He thought she loved him and would protect his dignity. But now that people knew, he couldn't see their relationship without seeing what he was from the outside. He was almost crying. It was bad enough that she'd included me in their fun and games without checking with him, but when they sent a picture to his father...He said he'd give her all the money since she already took everything else, but she screamed she didn't want the fucking money; she wanted him. She lost it when he left. Worse then me."

Brenda paused. "That was one of the most horrible things I'd seen so far. Marcie had been my rock. The sensible one. The defiant one. She forgot that submissives have to CHOOSE to submit and he changed his mind. They both loved each other deeply but it wasn't enough. She thought she was untouchable and now she's a shivering wreck, trying desperately to get back together with Ben, the only man who trusted her to be herself. But the secrecy that allowed them to be together...it's gone. Their relationship was permanently changed."

"I helped her get back on her feet, keeping her fed, getting her to her psychiatrist. But I knew as soon as she could stand up on her own, I needed to cut her out. I needed to cut a lot out of my life."

"What about you? Have you remarried?"

"There was Daniel. He was good and kind and exactly my type of person; the kind the Sisterhood would have fixed me up with back in the day. He'd been divorced and I didn't ask him any questions about that, at least at first. I didn't have the right to be judgemental. I went slowly. I mean, I was trying to learn my lesson. We were trying to be friends and I didn't want to scare him away. We'd been intimate a couple of times. I never had trouble finding men willing to fuck me. But to rub my back and watch a chick flick with me? One who told me I wasn't fat in a way I'd believe? I thought I was getting there with Daniel and then that fucking Fed Ex mailer arrived. It outlined my entire history and then Daniel became a part of it." She sighed. "It's very tough to date when in the beginning of the relationship, you need to mention that you are an ex-cheating gold digging tramp. That takes the bloom off the rose very quickly."

"Didn't you try to do anything?"

"How? Networks work both ways, for the good and the bad. I called Janet and threatened her with a defamation of character lawsuit and she laughed at me, saying that first my lawyer would have to prove I had any character to defame and then to prove they were lying about me. The truth defeats that kind of lawsuit. I asked her if she was going to get revenge on me forever and she said 'only until you get it'."

"Did you ever see Matt again?"

"Once at the divorce and once after. I was in Burlington Illinois and I saw him at a restaurant with a pair of little girls and a very pregnant Sister. He...he looked happy. That was a blow but I was very worried. What would a Sister be doing with my...with Matt? Maybe it was just coincidence but I had to make sure he was okay."

"I called Janet back. I begged for her to leave Matt out of this. He'd been heartbroken enough by us; why drag him into my bad behavior? If they wanted to blame anyone, blame us and Jim, not Matt."

"How did she respond?"

"She said 'The Sisterhood takes care of its own and Matt is one of us. We have a new ample supply of suddenly single Sisters thanks to your crew. We'd been around since the 60s with one divorce and now we have 76. Karen needed someone and so did Matt.' I was doing the math. There were only 30 Secret Sisters and even if we all were divorced...that was a LOT. I was appalled!"

"Then Janet told me that Karen was ecstatic with Matt. They were happy together. 'If that was a nerd, then find me one!' was what she said. Didn't I realize that half of marriage was helping to repair the flaws in the other? Even a normal Sister with high standards seemed pleased with him. Pleased enough to marry him and give him a..." She pressed her hands to her stomach.

"It was then that I finally got it. Everything. You see, Matt didn't demand I go back to my maiden name. I did. I used the Sisterhood and Matt to help me get a life. I stole that life and effort from them with a lie. So I just cut it all away. I dropped my name, dropped my friend Marcie, and started from zero, with a college degree and a 12 year employment gap. I had to give up everything they gave me to finally get a life I'd earned."

"I had just finished getting the paperwork finalized when Janet offered me a job."

"I never heard about any of this in the news. You'd think that if some huge conspiracy like that existed, I'd hear it in the news." Rebecca asked.

"Well, the Sisterhood did a lot of damage control. There were a lot of journalism majors on the rolls. They got a few calls. Some friends of friends kept things quite with a couple of editorial boards. Lawyers threatened lawsuits. And all the husbands and wives had a big emergency meeting where the leadership discussed exactly what happened, who was involved with names and pictures, and implored them to seriously reconsider acting hastily. It worked, mostly. There were still enough marriages weak enough that we...they had an epidemic of divorce. But there were a few articles in some local papers."




The Sisterhood



"Why didn't they survive? It sounds like they did everything they should have to keep afloat."

"Have you heard about ValuJet?" Brenda asked.

"Yes...wait....I think...wasn't that that airline that had that fire, killing everyone one board? I think they went out of business."

Brenda smirked at her. "No. It didn't go out of business. It had a PR nightmare on it's hand and figured the smart move was to change it's name. It's still running strong...just like the Sisterhood. It just has a new name. They are a bit more selective about who they accept and keep these days." She looked Rebecca straight in the eye.

"What job did she offer you?" Rebecca asked, trying to change the subject.

"This editorial gig. People write greetings or stories or all kinds of things on our blogs and in our book. I'm the one who goes over all of that, looking for mistakes and correcting them with my scarlet pen and then I send it back to them. Supposedly, it's so they can approve of the changes, but I really send it back to outline their errors so they don't make them again. Everyone makes mistakes. The smart ones don't make them repeatedly. It saves a lot of work in the long run."

"Well, it's nice that they finally forgave you and got you a job in another sorority."

Brenda smiled brightly. "Yes. And I so love the work. It's nice to be able to contribute something positive. After making such a wreck of my life, it's good to meet people who are keeping it together and understands the value of what they have before they throw it all away."

She glanced at her watch. "Oh dear! My flight leaves in a couple of hours. I need to run. I'm sorry for boring you with my story."

"Oh, it was facinating! But you didn't verify any information."

"So I didn't." She pulled a small white binder out of her purse. "Here. There are so many sisters all over the country that sometimes I do some research myself, make a few guesses and fill in the entry, then verify it with the person before it goes to print. This is one of my rough drafts. Why don't you look it over when you have a chance and I'll leave you one of my business cards." She reached over and squeezed her forearm "Keep me updated on any changes you want to make in your life."

Rebecca took the notebook and card automatically and glanced at the later.

Brenda Cuthbert Marketing Consultant XYZ Industries He should wish his wife to be beyond suspicion. Caesar 

"I thought you said you were an editor."

"Oh...marketing is how I pay my bills. My calling is editing." Then she left.

The housewife wandered into the living room, gathering the tray and it's wreckage and brought it back into the kitchen. She poured herself another glass of iced tea and paged back to the W's. She couldn't find her name. Mentally slapping herself for her silliness, she turned back to her maiden name of Nesbit. Her tea forced itself the wrong way and she spat all over the page.

There was her picture with a large red A scratched over it.

Rebecca Nesbit Formerly Rebecca Wright

Marital Status: Married Divorced Address: 421 Billings Blvd Unknown pending settlement Membership Status: Good Standing Under Review

Rebecca looked at the entry for a long time. Shakily, she walked to the phone and dialed. "Hello? Hi Judith. This is Rebecca. No, I'm fine. I sound funny because I swallowed something wrong. Stop fucking laughing! This isn't funny! No I didn't forget anything. No, I don't want to talk to Phil. I want you to cancel my gym membership. Yes, today! NO! I don't EVER want to talk to Phil again! Tell him adieu. Yes, I'm very sure. Good bye and it's been nice knowing you."

First she burned that page on the stove burner and carefully swept up the ashes. As she gathered the glasses and used tissues, she figured that she'd have plenty of time to change into something nice for when Bob got home. She had some editing of her own to do...

Fin

My apologies that I couldn't fit in a single Mustang.

For the aspiring writer, just to give you a sense of how it's done, I went over this story about 10 times and I still find errors. Just an FYI.



The Sisterhood: Carla



When my eldest daughter was in grade twelve one of her best friends came to live with us. Carla had a shitty home life; it had been bad as long as I known her. When Kate, my daughter, met Carla they were twelve and even then Carla was withdraw, shy and tense.

Things escalated to the point where, when Kate asked us if Carla could move in, my wife, other daughter Julia, and I all agreed that it was the best thing to do, for Carla. We loved her as a member of the family by then, and wanted her happiness. 

Shelley, my wife and I, had spoken many times, speculating what had been going on in Carla's house, but nothing prepared us for the girl's night terrors. The first night she stayed with us, her screams from the basement drew the whole family down to her room. 

Kate held Carla while she cried, and soothed her while the rest of us watched from the doorway. Shelley and I exchanged looks, realizing our worst thoughts were likely not dark enough. Something awful had happened to Carla.

For the rest of the week the screams happened every night, and I admit to regretting bringing her into the house a little. But we were committed to being a family for her now. 

I worked nights three days a week at that point. I was a musician, with a regular gig playing piano at a very popular nightclub. It was a sweet gig and I loved it, but it meant I got home late on weekends. On the first Saturday after Carla moved in I got home at 2:30 a.m. and was having a glass of water in the kitchen when the screams began. 

I quickly went to Carla, hoping to get to her before anyone else woke up. She was huddled in her bed in what was formerly the guest room. Carla was squeezed into the corner where the bed met two walls and she was blindly staring at the door.

I entered, but didn't go to her right away, not sure what that might do to her. I turned on the light and she woke up. Immediately she looked at me, flinched, her eyes wide, her breathing shallow and fast. Then she began to cry. I'm a father, I went to her, crawled onto the bed and pulled her gently to me and held her. 

My heart bled for her. 

I held Carla for a time, murmuring stupid things about her being alright now, and that kind of thing. Soft, soothing sounds that meant nothing specifically. I held her tiny frame in my arms and felt her shaking. 

Carla was, and still is a tiny woman. At this point she was fragile. She didn't eat much and had only turned eighteen a month or so before, so she was still very thin and had yet to fill out. To me she felt like a child in my arms, so I didn't have any sexual thoughts. She was scared and needed me. 

The next morning however...

Sundays around our house are pretty relaxed. Late mornings, the occasional group breakfast, but really we are a busy family with lots of extra-curricular activities. Naturally I got up late, having been up late. When I came downstairs in my pajama pants and a t-shirt I didn't expect anyone else to be there. 

Carla was reading something on her phone, sipping coffee or tea, looking, as I did, like she had just gotten up. 

Carla and Kate's friends, this group of girls that always spent time together and called themselves the Traveling Sisterhood or something, had spent the night many, many times. I was completely used to a house full of girls, what with having two daughters and all, but I was not used to them being half naked. 

I had been avoiding the yard for years whenever they used the pool or sunbathed. It seemed prudent to make myself scarce when teenaged girls wore bikinis. Self-preservation probably, but it had long been my policy. 

This morning Carla was wearing a large, loose men's tank top. It plunged so far down around the arm holes that I could see the side of her small breasts peeking out. In the front, her minimal cleavage was on full display where the front plunged deep between her breasts. 

On her bottom she wore tight yoga pants that clung to her legs like a second skin. This was not what she had been wearing to bed last night. 

Carla glanced up from her phone when I entered and looked at me with haunted, sleep deprived eyes. Her hair was tussled from sleep and she looked sad. 

"Morning Mr. C." she said.

"Hey Carla." 

I quickly prepared myself a bowl of cereal, trying not to notice that Carla was a pretty young woman now. She had long auburn hair and green eyes, pale skin, and a beautiful smile when she used it. I'd guess she was five foot three, maybe a hundred and ten pounds, but perhaps less. 

Carla was petite, sleight even. Her body had muscle, but she was lithe and ethereal looking. There was a magical, elfin quality to her that for some reason today seemed more overtly sexual than ever before. I busied myself with my breakfast and did what I'd been doing for years, I ignored temptation. Again. 

As a married musician I had become very good at deflecting female attention. 

I took my cereal to the music room. Down in the basement we had a room that had been there when we moved in two years before. It was a small ten by ten room with windows on all four walls. The house was built on a hill, so the back of the basement was above ground while the front was below.

The whole family played multiple instruments and we sound-proofed the room somewhat so the kids and I could record music. I went in and ate while listening to some tracks I'd been working on for fun. 

I was lost in the music a while later when I noticed Carla come down and go into her room. Moments later she came back out with a yoga mat and set it up in the middle of the living room area. As I tried not to look, Carla began doing yoga in her very tight pants and very loose shirt. 

The moment she bent over, her butt aimed to my left, I saw her breasts exposed as her loose shirt fell over her head. Most of her torso was exposed for a second, and when she stood up again to adjust it, I peered at my monitor looking for anything that wasn't a half-naked eighteen year old. 

I worked on my laptop studiously for several moments, painfully aware of the exposed flesh just outside the room. I could see her moving up and down as she stretched, but I didn't so much as glance her way until I saw her disappear below my sight for a long time. 

Curiosity got the better of me, and I sat up higher in my office chair hoping to get a look. Carla was on her back in a twisted position, her knees pointed toward me, both on one side of her body, her shoulders flat on the ground her head turned the other way. 

Carla had tucked the shirt into her waistband, but that had pulled the shirt down low. I saw immediately that her left breast had slipped out of her shirt as she twisted. I watched her breathing deeply, her soft breast flat against her ribs, the nipple hard and pointing straight up invitingly. 

The pale pink nipple was small and tight, like a little candy begging to be sucked. Feeling not like a man in his forties with two teenaged daughters, but like a kid who never got to see bared breasts, I gaped at her small mound, enraptured. 

I saw her legs twitch and intuited that she was changing position so I settled down into my chair and looked at my screen for a few more minutes trying to calm myself. I didn't know if she'd seen me looking, but I once again pretended to focus on my work, an aching erection in the wrong position in my loose pajama pants. 

Disappointed in myself,-why was I getting all hot and bothered over a kid I'd known for years?- I adjusted my annoying erection and took my cereal bowl up to the kitchen. As I left the music room Carla looked up at me from the floor. 

Now Carla was doing the splits while leaning her torso over one leg. She smiled an innocent, distracted smile at me. Her wide-spread legs exposed the way her yoga pants rode up into her sex, revealing the puffy thick lips of her vulva to my overly excited eyes. Her right breast was falling out of her tank-top now, her breast firm and rounded as she leaned forward to her left.

I smiled back, feeling ill, and practically ran upstairs. 

Having a shower, I ran it slightly colder than usual at first, adamantly refusing to jack-off over one of my daughters friends. 

If the circumstances had been different I might have found this thrilling. Carla was very pretty, in a waifish, vulnerable way. But it was that very vulnerability that scared me. There was something about her that felt dangerous to me. 

Carla, in general, was the quietest of Kate's three best friends. Courtney and Kate seemed to be the leaders and Tiffany was the most overtly sexy, in my opinion, but suddenly Carla seemed alluring in a way I'd never truly noticed before. 

I suppose seeing a woman's breasts might suddenly make her seem more of a sexual being to a person, but really only if you find that breast sexually attractive. Normally I liked a fuller breast than what Carla's were, so simply seeing her breast shouldn't have been able to inciting me this much. It was more than simple exposure, it was her. 

Every instinct I had told me to avoid her as much as possible. But she lived in my house. 

When I was dressed and feeling more like an adult again I ventured out of my room. I realized I was hiding, taking much longer to dress and make myself presentable than usual. I was trying to make my middle-aged-self look appealing to a girl hardly older than my eldest daughter. I was fairly ashamed of my behavior. 

I was even more ashamed when I felt disappointed that I didn't find Carla in the house when I emerged from hiding. I made myself a coffee and took it to the studio room. As I went inside I looked out the window into the back yard and there was Carla, in a black bikini, sunbathing in a lounge chair. 

Staring at her smooth, pale skin, shining with lotion, I admired her lean legs. The muscles of her calves and thighs were enticingly exposed, the soft skin calling to me. Carla had positioned the chair angled to expose her to the sun, but the angle also left her fully exposed to my window. Coincidence? 

Her flat stomach rose and fell with her calm breathing, the little dimple of her belly button a delight to behold. Carla's sleight breasts, covered by thin materiel, the nipples still hard and pointy, moved with her breathing. The swell of her mounds were so firm looking my mouth watered thinking about kissing and licking them.

Carla was around ten feet from me, through the glass and I could easily make out erotic details. I watched her little pink tongue dart out and lick her soft lips. I could make out the groove of her sex through her bikini bottoms and I memorized the rise of her mons, the shape of her lips, my mouth dry now. 

I watched, jealous of her fingers, as she brushed them over her skin, wiping away perspiration from her upper thigh or flat tummy. Displayed before me was the perfect model to capture in sculpture the essence of youthful sensuality. 

My cock throbbed like a randy teen's. 

I heard Kate come home then. Pulled from my reverie, I had been lost in my lechery for several minutes, I quickly sat down as my daughter thundered down the stairs looking for her best friend. 

"Hey Dad. Have you seen Carla?" 

"She's out back." I tried to blow it off casually, but I could hear an odd quality in my voice. 

Kate ignored it and looked past me into the yard.

"Ooo, fun. I wanted to get some sun too."

My eldest daughter ran back upstairs, and I went back to ogling her friend until Kate came out and joined her. If I'm being totally honest, and I don't see why I shouldn't, I compared Kate and Carla once they were both lying out in their bikinis. 

It was unnerving looking at my daughter's body while feeling lust. Carla's exhibitionism had sparked me in a way I'd not been in a long time, and my perverted mind just rolled my little girl into fuel for my fantasies. Guiltily, I studied Kate, comparing my daughter's body to that of her friend's. 

Kate was very much like her mother, someone I'd always found very desirable. Both women were blonde and beautiful, with more curves than Carla. Kate had slightly fuller breasts, B cups maybe, and more hip. As they lay next to each other, Kate a bit taller, I realized that my daughter looked like the older of the two, not Carla. 

Kate was more tanned, and her golden hair gleamed in the sun, but I was drawn to the darker mystery of Carla and her auburn hair. I guarantee I spent far too much time assessing both ladies as sexual beings and comparing their bodies as sexual objects for my own comfort. I felt like a pig. 

But I had not been this aroused in years. 

I found an excuse to leave the house to run some errands, something I rarely do on Sundays. I needed to get away from Carla. In just over an hour I had managed to check out both her tits and leer at her sunbathing, and topped it off with gawking at my own daughter.

I wasn't feeling my best. 

I played that night, and had a great show. I was very flirty at work, and I joked a lot with the female guests at the bar. Carla had awoken something in me. I was happy to go home at the end of the night, but during my drive I was less certain it had to do with escaping from work without doing something I'd regret, or the idea of going home to Carla. 

I was deep asleep when the screaming began. 

I've always been a lighter sleeper than Shelley, and when our girls were babies I usually sat with them at night when they cried. I rolled away from Shelley, who I awoke to find I was spooning tightly, I murmured that I'd go, same as when the kids were infants, and I staggered out of our room wandering toward the sound of screams. 

I turned on the hall light outside Carla's room, but I didn't turn on her bedroom light as I entered. The spill of light from the hall was more than enough to see the poor creature, terrified out of her mind, huddled in the corner of her bed.

Carla woke up as I reached her bed, and she reached out for me in the most endearing way; so small, so vulnerable, and in terrible need. I crawled up onto the bed and wrapped myself around her with both my arms and legs, and rocked her while cradling her thin body. 

I want to state for the record, this being the record I suppose, that I didn't plan any of this. I didn't jump up and run to her with any motive other than comforting her and stopping the noise that was going to wake up the whole house. 

The terror in Carla's eyes when she had been staring at me as she awoke was real, and it sparked true compassion in me, not some sleazy gambit to fondle a young woman. I wrapped myself around her the same way I had my own children for years. 

The difference of course was that Carla was not a child, nor was she mine. The moment she snuggled into my arms and settled down I noticed a few things, all at once. It will take more time to write them than it took for each sensation to hit my awareness. 

We were very intimately tangled with each other, but this wasn't the first time we' been so close in the last week. The differences were how little each of us was wearing. I had only boxer shorts on. As my body settled around hers, I felt the warm, smooth caress of her skin. She wore only a camisole on top; her arms were bare, her torso covered by smooth, satiny textured material. Her legs were also bare, only panties below the waist. Carla was very hot to touch, and slightly sweaty. 

Her head came to rest on my bare chest, my arms around her shoulders. My legs stretched around her, my left pressed to her butt, her legs bent and settled over top of my right leg. One of her small hands came to rest on my shoulder, and the other wiped her tears as she sniffled.

The other thing I noticed, immediately, the moment I pressed her body to mine to comfort her, was that I had an erection. I had been wrapped around my wife moments before; my cock pressed to her wonderful ass. My body had been reacting to that delightful stimulus less than sixty seconds before. Now my erection was poking into Carla's side, the length stretching along her hip and pressing into her flank.

Carla settled sideways, and I adjusted, trying to hide my boner. I leaned against the bed's headboard and held her while she cried. Carla smelled wonderful; she worked at a soap store, so she always had the most delicious smells. Tonight it mingled with sweat and her own personal musk. It was intoxicating.

I would guess that we sat like that, utterly entwined, for five minutes or so. My mind drifted sleepily along perverted lines. I allowed myself to indulge in the erotic power of holding a mostly-naked young woman who was not my wife. 

Each breath Carla took meant her flank expanded, and sandwiched my cock between her soft body and my own. I stroked her lower back, soothing her, my fingers finding the edge of her camisole and sneaking under to brush her silky skin. I rested my chin along the top of her head and she pressed her cheek to my chest. 

Fearful of what I was doing, I held still, not so much as twitching, except for the one hand that caressed her lower back, consoling her. Carla accepted my comfort silently, hardly moving either, her sobs quickly fading into deep breathes. 

I almost jumped when she spoke, her voice low and quiet.

"I've had these night terrors for a few years now. Sometimes it gets really bad, mostly when I'm stressed." I said nothing, but I squeezed her tight, using my whole body, implying she was safe. 

"It took me a long time to discover the only cure I've found. I had to experiment. Doctors tried to help, and I have tried a few holistic methods, but in the end only one thing works. And I can't always find it."

When she spoke I could feel the vibration through her body into my own. Something about that vibration aroused me even further, my cock swelling in spite of my anxiety. 

Carla's little hand on my shoulder traced small circles as she spoke, and then found my chest hair. Twirling her fingers through my hair her fingers explored lower. Carla pressed her palm to my pec, for all the world feeling like she was fondling me. I was trying to pretend there was no sexual tension, I had not been with a new lover in a very long time, but the tension was undeniable.

I stopped rubbing her back and let my hand drift up to her shoulder, cupping her flesh like it were her breast. Both of us had a hand caressing the other, we were pressed close, hardly moving except those two brave hands. 

"When I was a baby I had a soother." Carla continued, "Apparently I loved it immediately. I would have it with me all the time, sucking away on it. My Mom had to hide it from me, but I would be inconsolable if it were gone. My Dad always gave it back to me." 

Carla's hand drifted lower now, running her fingernails through my thick chest hair, delighting me with tickly, intimate sensations. My hand began to stroke the length of her bare arm, the same arm now hypnotizing me. 

"I kept that soother for a long time; it's the earliest possession I remember. It always kept away the night terrors. Just the feeling of it in my mouth soothed me."

Carla shifted, wriggling around until she found a new, more comfortable spot to snuggle. My erection smooshed against her body as she moved, until she stopped her contortions. Her new position freed it from the confines of being squeezed between us. I was both relieved and disappointed. 

My disappointment dissipated as her fingers drifted lower, moving toward my now available member. Where was this going?

"Of course I couldn't keep a soother my whole life. At some point it disappeared, no doubt mother's fault. There were a few bad weeks there, but I found sucking my thumb in secret helped, a little."

Carla's tiny fingers tickled lower, dreamily circling along the hair of my belly now, inches from the tip of my cock where it stretched the front of my boxer shorts. Lifting my chin, I looked down past her head at her hand. 




The Sisterhood: Carla



In the spill of the hall light I could see what she was seeing. Carla was facing downward, gazing right at the front of my boxers where the tip of my cock was perfectly outlined as it strained the fabric. The light from the hall cast a beam over her lap, her smooth thighs pressed together, her panties almost hidden in the juncture where her thighs met her belly. 

Carla looked up at me, her face very close, her eyes wide and imploring, and her face tense with need. Even as I took in a breath to say something, anything, to stop what was happening, Carla took a hold of my cock. 

I froze, every cell in my being riveted to the warm grip now suddenly holding my knob. 

I'm always astounded by how many emotions a human can have at one time. How many can I list from that brief, intense moment as we looked into each others eyes while Carla held the shaft of my cock? 

I felt relief to have the building sexual tension reach a tipping point. I felt joy at her touch, grief at my own inability to divert this trajectory; I felt guilt, shame, lust, curiosity, and excitement. It was all there swirling around my head as I sat frozen, a teenager squeezing my throbbing erection.

"I need to suck your cock. Please. It's the only thing that lets me sleep now." Her haunted eyes, the panic of her episode still there in the shadowy depths, implored me to allow this. 

That little hand; so small, so fragile, stroked my shaft, moving up and down, making it impossible to say no. 

Instead I said nothing. 

Carla gazed at me as she fondled my cock, now with both hands. Her eyes became calm, then dreamy as she realized I wasn't going to stop her. I watched her beautiful, soft lips bend in a smile, tiny dimples creasing the corners of her mouth, her soft cheeks round with youth. 

The poignancy of her age made me want to weep, but the need, the raw sensuality of her had me mesmerized. Glee twinkled in her eyes as her hands peeled back my boxers and exposed my cock. Then Carla broke her hypnotizing gaze and bent to look at her prize.

I've been married a long time, and love my wife very much, so this was very out of character for me. Working in a bar as an entertainer meant I had opportunity all the time, but I didn't submit to temptation. This only partially felt like temptation, this also felt like some kind of therapy for her. 

I watched Carla pull my cock out of my boxers and stroke it with both hands. Her warm fingers caressed the first few inches of my cock and it felt sensational. She was tentative in a way I'd not experienced in nearly two decades, Shelley's confident, possessive touch was great, but anything new was astounding.

In her tiny hands my cock looked huge, bigger than her wrist around. I haven't measure my cock since I was a kid, when I was thinner, so I assumed my cock isn't as long now. Then, it had been just less than seven inches, nothing to sneer at, and Carla did not seem disappointed.

Those little fingers explored my cock, as her eyes scanned it. Carla played with it for a few moments, periodically smiling up at me when she did something that made me flinch with pleasure, or moan with lust. 

I loved her explorations. When she jacked me a little it felt exquisite having new fingers wrap round me. The obvious difference in size, texture, temperature and style of her hands captivated me. When she let her fingernails trace along my skin I jumped, the sensation so new, and so delightful. 

Then Carla shifted her body down the bed and pulled my boxers down my hips. Lifting my butt to allow her to strip me, I felt as if I were having an out of body experience. It was so much like a movie, her body so beautiful, that I couldn't reconcile that this was actually happening to me. 

When I was nude, Carla stretched out on her belly, her face down between my thighs. Leaning on her elbows she took hold of my cock and aimed it at her mouth. 

Holding perfectly still, my hypersensitive skin felt the air on my knob, her hand on my shaft and my cock anticipated her mouth like a drowning person craves air. I couldn't remember ever having so much sensation in my cock. 

When Carla's little, pink tongue slipped out and licked my knob I felt it all over my body. My whole being tingled. As she began to lap at my tip, licking it like an ice cream she peeked up at me to gauge my reaction. 

The little tickles felt achingly sweet. Keen needles of pure joy pierced my flesh where her wet and warm tongue grazed across my tip. I imagine my face looked stupid because she giggled at me when she peeked, but she went right back to licking me, so she was pleased with the results. 

As delightful as the licking was, when she took me inside her mouth the flood of sensation was almost agonizing. Warmth suffused my cock, the caress of her lips around my shaft, the wet saliva that began to coat me as her slippery tongue slid everywhere felt incredible.

My confused brain couldn't decide what to concentrate on. I groaned and leaned way back, arching my body, seeking escape from so much stimuli, even as I held my groin as still as possible to maximize this lascivious rapture.

Shelley would suck my cock periodically, even this late in the game. It wasn't some kind of special treat she gave me, or endured for me, she loves me. But none of her blow jobs compared to this. Carla's mouth was perfect. 

Every few moments she was doing something delightful, she never stopped moving her mouth to new places and giving me new sensations. The thing was, Carla was using my cock to make her mouth feel good, not the other way around. 

The concept of her pleasing herself intrigued me, and being used like this for her pleasure freed me from having to do anything at all. I watched her suck my cock, bewitched by the sight, and panted or grunted with each new sensation she gave me. 

Sitting there, watching Carla enjoying my cock made me smile for the first time since this had begun. How could this be wrong? Carla was far more gratified by this than I was, and I felt amazing. The little sounds of enjoyment she was making were all the indication I needed. 

Whimpering, and moaning to herself (I could only hear it because I was very close) Carla sucked on me as if she were starving and this were a feast fit for queens. I'd never felt anything like her intensity. It wasn't manic, or feverish, but it was a deep focused exploration. She needed my cock to touch every part of her mouth, and she needed every part of her mouth to touch every part of my cock. 

It took a while, and every second was pure bliss.

Then, as if she had completed some pleasant ritual, Carla stopped, and sat up, kneeling between my legs. Smiling at my stunned face as I came back from Nirvana, she pulled her camisole off, exposing both her beautiful breasts to me. 

As I gaped at them, she sat back further and pulled off her panties. I saw at once that she shaved her pubic hair, and her little, pink slit winked at me as she squirmed out of her underwear. 

Then Carla, my daughter's best friend, was totally naked on a bed with me. 

We stared at each others bodies for a moment, her allowing me to scan her whole luscious body. Naked was not much different than in a bikini, and yet, it was completely different. Having permission was far better. 

I found her body to be amazingly proportionate. Her body looked like a ballerina's; dainty, elegant and feminine. Carla's breasts were small and firm, with no sag as they defied gravity to appear perky and smooth. Her nipples were pale pink and centered on her breasts perfectly. Saliva squirted into my mouth looking at them

Her belly was flat and toned. It was easy to see where one set of muscles transitioned into another under her smooth, taut skin. I found her delicate strength utterly alluring. Carla was once more kneeling in front of me, gazing at my cock, and between her flung open thighs I could just make out her little pink slit in the dim light. 

"I need to taste you." I blurted out. 

Carla smiled at me, a secret, knowing smile that compelled me to kiss it. I leaned forward and we began to kiss. It was tentative for a moment, our lips meeting, then parting, and then our tongues slipping around each other experimentally. 

Kissing a new lover is like nothing else. The deep intimacy of kissing mingled with the lack of insight about how they kiss, how they like to be kissed... it is so fraught with potential. Kissing Carla was sweet. Her mouth was small and she tasted delicious. 

I moved my body closer, to make kissing easier, and my cock brushed her belly, singeing me with an ache for more contact. Still kissing we moved together, our arms finding each other, her warm little body pressing to mine, my cock sandwiched against her again. 

I moaned when I felt her press against me, her soft breasts crushed to my chest enticingly. Carla reached under my arms and massaged my back, kneading the muscle there with her tiny hands. I held her head in my hands, needing to be grounded to her as I was swept away with passion. 

I was dizzy, her mouth was ambrosia, her skin angelic, her smell pure delight. I could hardly breathe I was so overwhelmed with the beauty of this moment. This tongue in my mouth had moments before been worshiping my cock and tormenting me with pure bliss. I was gratefully doing to her tongue what her tongue had done to my cock. 

Then I pulled back when she grabbed my ass. I needed to taste her. I wanted my mouth everywhere on her soft, smooth body. I pushed her back, until she got the hint and lay back on her own. 

Carla now lay with her head at the foot of the bed, the light of the hall falling over her as she displayed herself for me. My cock throbbed and she saw it twitch. Smiling her secret smile she lifted her arms over her head and offered herself to me. 

This tiny woman, this teenaged goddess, looked white and ethereal and she took my breath away. I went to all fours and crawled up her body, careful not to touch her yet. I held myself over her, moving until I was above her face, then I kissed her mouth a few more times, holding a push-up position. 

Then when I felt like I had her attention, I kissed my way across her face, exploring her lovely features. I dropped my knees down between her thighs, forcing her legs wider, and letting myself rest as I took my time kissing down her long neck.

I wish I could adequately describe the utter joy it is kissing a woman to those who have never done it. The softness of her skin, the warmth, the tiny details of femininity; how small her collar bones are, the gentle rise of her chest as it transitions from muscle to breast, it is what makes poets go mad. 

Suffice it to say that the journey from her mouth to her nipples was exquisite and I took my time. Then when I did reach first her right nipple, then her left, I explored them both until she began to writhe and moan. 

Decades servicing the same nipples, doing anything to revive their lusty past after breast feeding, had taught me any number of techniques to elicit pleasure from nipple tissue. I had Carla whimpering with lust before too long. 

I use two major techniques, if anyone is interested. Firstly I always pay close attention to my partner, Shelley isn't very vocal, not like Carla, and I had learned to observe any clues I could as to how I was doing. 

Secondly, I also please myself. I know that sounds selfish, but as I mentioned when describing Carla so excellently blowing me, having a lover please themselves using your body is really exciting. I loved it, and when I'm sucking and licking a nipple it's for me as much as anything. Then my partner can cue me when I need to do something for them. 

It works very well in my estimation. Then the details, whether you lick, suck, blow, bite, pinch or squeeze can change moment to moment. That's my two cents anyway.

I moved my mouth lower, needing even more to taste her luscious pussy. I licked and teased my way down her tummy, stopping in to lick her belly button a little, but I was now caught in the tractor beam of her clit. I couldn't wait to have her gasping with an orgasm from my tongue. 

I slowed my decent once I had both her thighs spread out wide and my head poised above her slit. When I was positioned comfortably to eat her pussy for a while, I licked and kissed her upper thighs, taking my time.

I love nibbling on the big tendon's that pop up when a woman has her legs spread open for me. It is a personal favorite of mine. Then I slowly moved inward, kissing the puffy swell of her outer labia, then, slowly, teasing her, I finally began to lick her inner labia. 

Carla was quivering, her pussy leaking delicious lubricant which I lapped up greedily. Reaching my arms around her thighs, I placed my hands on her tits. Beginning to massage them, I finally ran my tongue all the way up the middle of her groove and over her clit. 

Carla jumped and I did it again, delighting in the musky, fresh flavour of her juices. There is nothing like the taste of a woman, each slightly different. Carla was a light flavour, with a hint of tinny metallic tang that thrilled my tongue. Her savory flow was slippery and warm and my chin was soon damp with her wetness. 

I zeroed in on her clit now that her whole vulva was slippery and wet. I licked softly for a time, easing her into the sensation of a mouth wiggling around over her sensitive button. Then I put her needs on the back burner and settled in to enjoy playing with all that soft delicate skin. 

I explored her whole clitoral hood, under over and all around. Carla was twitching and writhing, seeking my attention, but I ignored her for a little bit. I wanted to enjoy the debauchery of putting my mouth on a teenager's sex. 

This was utter depravity. I was 26 years older than Carla. She was my eldest daughter's best friend, a guest in my house, nearly a member of my family and was suffering from some awful shit rolling around in her nightmares. This was wrong on every level

Every level, except for how good it felt. For both of us. 

Once I had thoroughly indulged myself in the concept of being a perverted old man, plunging my tongue inside, and all around this vulnerable little girl's pussy, I gave in to her needs and focused on helping Carla cum

I looked up her body, to where my hands squeezed the small mounds of her bosom; I saw her face contorted in ecstasy. A surge of pride in my abilities made me concentrate on the goal of making her cum. I experimented with different things, to tease out what kind of attention on her pussy Carla liked most. 

Using the fingers of one hand to delve inside and rub the back of her clit, I stroked her and suckled her, pulling the little button in-between my lips with suction. Carla lifted her hips up to meet my mouth, rocking her hips back and forth in time to my stroking fingers.

Alternating pressing my tongue to her clit and sucking it, I urged Carla to the edge of climax and my fingers pushed her over. Her breathing stopped and a grunt squeezed through the tight muscles of her throat. Arching her back, Carla thrust her pussy up at my face and I lashed her with my tongue, stroking her pussy wall with my fingertips. 

Trembling like a leaf, Carla climaxed, her body contorting with pleasure. Clamping her thighs to the side of my head she held me immobile for a time, my tongue still lashing her, and my fingers squirming in the grip of her tight, wet slot.

Then her air gave out and she had to breathe. Gasping, she released me, and immediately I resumed the intensity of my ministrations. The second my fingers thrust deep inside her and I sucked hard on her clit she humped up at me, her hips rising off the bed, her feet pressed to the mattress. 

Long moments passed as I lavished her dripping sex with my attention. I loved tasting her, and feeling her soft, young body writhe under my hands and mouth. I could hardly wait to fuck this little minx. 

When Carla begged me to stop, breathless and feeble with multiple orgasms, I relented. She flopped to the bed, exhausted, her loose limbs falling open. Sprawled before me, unresisting to whatever I might do next, Carla looked up at where I knelt, her face relaxed and happier than I had seen in a long time. 

Finally I could see evidence of what this was doing to Carla. I wasn't betraying a trust, or corrupting a naïve, haunted young woman. I was healing a wounded spirit. The look on her face was radiant, confident and mischievous. Her secret smile made my cock pulse with lust. 

Moving, compelled to enter her, I positioned myself above her sprawled body. Carla grinned at me, biting her bottom lip, her gleaming green eyes fixed to mine. As soon as my mouth was in range she pressed her lips to mine and we kissed as I maneuvered into place, ready to fuck. 

Carla lifted her legs up over my hips and opened herself to me with her fingers. We kissed deeply, our mouths joined as she took her other hand and gripped my shaft, sliding my knob around her juicy slit. 

The unbearable kiss of her burning, wet labia sent a jolt of pure bliss all along my nervous system from the tip of my prick to the cascade of neurons firing in my head. I could feel the tingle all along that whole route, a sharp needling of total delight. 

Even as we kissed our bodies melded. I could feel the slide of her lips over my knob as I pressed downward and forward, plunging slowly inside her tight body. The wet embrace of her sex spread over mine as I opened her burning depths. 

My knob passed completely through her tight vaginal ring and into her achingly soft interior. Our mouths stopped devouring each other as we gasped at the joining of our bodies. Easing deeper in small micro plunges of my hips, I prolonged the ecstasy of entering Carla. 

Pulling back her head, Carla looked deeply into my eyes, the playful glint of moments before replaced by an intense scrutiny. In her eyes I saw confusion, love, fear, joy and rapture all battling for dominance in her gaze. 

I understood, I was feeling a multitude of emotions as well. My cock was delving into the smooth slippery grip of a woman not my wife, not my peer, not a stranger, but a close family friend, a friend of my daughter, who was the same age. 

I felt the keen delight of immersing my throbbing cock in sopping wet womanhood; my cock was two thirds of the way inside Carla. I felt the depraved thrill of fucking a gorgeous teenage girl. I felt my heart beating with the excitement of being caught, and the guilt of being so degenerate.

I hadn't even fully fitted myself inside this adorable little girl and already this was the best sexual experience I'd ever had. 

Finally I bumped against Carla's cervix, her eyes opening wide as my tip was kissed delicately by her deep inner opening. I wriggled my hips, snugging a bit more of myself inside her delightful body and we both sighed with relief.

There was a palpable release of sexual tension now that we had actually achieved penetration. I don't know what was happening for her, but for me there had been a large part of me that had been terrified of being interrupted before we got to actually experience this intimacy. 

I smiled down at her, overjoyed to have been granted the gift of being inside her fabulous body. Carla smiled back at me, her face soft, and so achingly young that I was moved once more to kiss her, indulgently. I kissed her like a father soothing a child even while my manhood was stuffed deep inside her soaking wet pussy. Wonders never ceased. 

Then, incited by the perversion of my thoughts, I began to move in and out of Carla's slick teen slit. My cock felt more sensitive than at any time since I was a teen myself experiencing sex for the first time. The glorious caress of her smooth vaginal walls surrounded my aching shaft as I slipped in and out of her tight grasp.




The Sisterhood: Carla



Carla trembled beneath me, transported someplace far away, her eyes closed, her head tilted back, her mouth open and groaning as I plunged deep into her and slowly pulled back out. Her arms held me around the shoulders and I rested on my elbows, watching her face as she appeared to climax over and over.

I ground my pelvis down onto her, cramming my cock as deeply inside her as I could. She seemed to love it, her face gaping as she reacted to what I did. Her rigid body trembled under me and she grew so tense it became difficult to keep fucking her. 

Now that I was sure she was cumming, so I began to play. I would shove myself hard into her and hold there while I felt her clench with pleasure, then I would pull out quickly and drive in again as soon as I felt her relax at all. 

Over and over I prolonged her orgasm like that, until her eyes popped open and she implored me silently to stop tormenting her like this. I slammed into her a few more times, too proud of giving her multiple orgasms to stop so soon. 

Then eventually I held still, balls deep inside her tight eighteen year old body, prouder than I'd ever been to be fucking anyone. Carla was a great lay, eager, orgasmic and adorable. I was grinning from ear to ear at being able to give such a delightful young woman pleasure.

When Carla relaxed and slumped back on the bed, spent, still full of my cock, but sleepy and soft looking, I leaning down and kissed her once more. She kissed back with greedy, grateful kisses. 

"That was amazing." She whispered.

"I'm so glad you feel that way." I smiled and she laughed, sounding older than her eighteen years. "Now, as soon as you get your breath back, I'm going to continue fucking the shit out of you until I'm satisfied you will sleep through the rest of the night."

Carla smiled while I said that, but her smile became a beam of radiant joy when I said the part about sleeping through the night.

"Yes. I would love that." She kissed me and I resumed fucking her, slowly and gently, easing her back into the groove, assuming she was still fairly sensitive. 

It didn't take long however until we were both panting, grinding and fucking each other hard and passionately once more. I drove into her more energetically than I had fucked Shelley in years. There was a raw animal lust that went missing from our sex life years ago. 

In the back of my head I wondered if Shelley would like fucking like this again. I wondered what would happen if she caught us. I pictured her watching from the door and I had to peek over to be sure she wasn't there. 

She wasn't, but what was there, in my mind, was a new deeper stab of lust. I wanted Shelley to see me fuck this little girl. I wanted her to see me as virile and desirable again. I knew she loved me, still does, but for both of us the passion was burning low. 

Maybe seeing me deep inside this gorgeous teen would make her see me as a stud. I felt my dick throb at the thought of having my wife see me as a sexy man again, and not just the guy she fucks. I looked down at Carla's face contorted with ecstasy from the sex she and I were having. Shelley didn't do that anymore. 

My skin tingled looking at Carla, she was so sexy, so uninhibitedly sordid and I was inside her tight little body. It felt so good, I was on the verge of climax just watching her move under me. But I wanted Shelley here too. 

Then suddenly I wanted Kate here too. A slithering, slimy part of my brain was degenerate enough to want my daughter to see me fucking the shit out of her best friend. Then she wouldn't think of me as an old man, dried up and silly. Then my sexy, nubile daughter would see me as a primal masculine figure, worthy of respect. 

I had never before realized how deep my depravity could go. I'd never tapped into my darkest subconscious before. Turns out I had a thing for being the dominant male of the females of my tribe. 

Even as I fucked this adorable teen, I felt my brain was flipping back and forth between wanting to be seen by my wife, my daughters or all of them. I opened my eyes and ogled Carla's wriggling body as I fucked her harder and faster, my orgasm surging up from deep inside my balls. 

Memorizing every detail of how it felt to be fucking her; how her skin felt where we touched, how her breasts felt under my hands as I began groping her meager mounds. I memorized the sounds she was making, the smell of her body and her sex, the squishing noises I made as I plunged into her. All of it. The heat of her pussy surrounding me, the slippery caress. 

Then I imagined my family watching me fuck her, seeing all the details of her body that I saw, but also seeing my body and finding it sexy. I wanted my daughters and my wife to want me as much as Carla did. 

Then I grunted, clamping down on the first surge of orgasm. Carla writhed under me, squirming to get out from underneath me. I rolled off of her, desolate to leave her warm confines. But in seconds she was hovering over me and her mouth engulfed my straining erection. 

The contrast of warm and wet, cool and dry, to warm and wet again was delightful. Watching her pretty mouth stretch around my shaft, and her little hand stroking my length was mesmerizing. Once more my orgasm pulsed along my cock. 

Feeling accepted, and adored, I watched Carla suck my cock, knowing she tasted her own cum on me. Her delightful mouth danced all over my knob, making me hiss with pleasure. I once again imagined my family all gathered in the doorway, short of breath, anticipating Daddy's cum flowing into Carla's mouth. 

Giving over to my sordid thoughts I exploded into my houseguest's mouth. Total bliss radiated along every fiber of my being, all concentrated on the delightful mouth sucking me. Lust lashed my brain with images of my daughter's faces and my wife's mouth doing the same thing. I couldn't stop wanting Kate to be helping Carla slurp up all of Daddy's cum. 

Finally my orgasm ended and I felt as depleted and drained as I had ever felt after any orgasm. I was exhausted, but Carla continued to suck my cock, licking my shaft and lapping at my balls. Her efforts eased me back from that place of debauchery I'd gone. 

I loved the feeling of her tongue, slippery and wet as it tickled me all over my manhood, but I needed her to stop. I pulled her away and laughed. 

"It's too much, I need a break."

"You just taste so good."

Carla crawled up my body and snuggled against me like a kitten. 

"Thank you so much. I needed that." 

"Anytime." I joked reflexively, but it worried me.

"I should be good for a couple days, but I'll want this again. Are you willing?" Carla spoke into my neck, her breath warm and inviting.

"Yes. Not forever, but I want this again."

"Deal."

The next few days Carla slept through the night and all of us felt better for getting a good night's sleep. I expected to feel terrible about what had happened, but instead I was elated. I was rejuvenated and so was Carla, and soon everyone else. 

I fucked Shelley the next night, and we were animals in bed. I started it, but it took almost nothing to get her to come along on the journey. We were pent up, frustrated and had been sleep deprived. Now we'd had some rest, and when I instigated, Shelley came right along.

I was more connected to her as a lover than I'd been in a while. I'd gotten too used to the signals she sent, now I paid closer attention and followed her lead more than I had in some time. Naturally she responded better, and was more giving to me as well. 

The smile on her face the morning after went a long way to making me feel less guilty. I got an erection as Carla came into the room for breakfast. Wearing a loose, silk robe that fell open to reveal her breasts as she moved Carla casually flashed me, pretending it was all an accident

I did my best not to look, focusing on Shelley as she flirted with me, but my erection was thinking only of Carla's small, firm breasts beneath my hands. When Kate and Julia came downstairs in nighties I was suddenly surrounded by women in next to no clothing. I was overwhelmed. 

I sat still, sipping coffee, as four women gossiped, ate and flaunted their bodies in front of a man none of them considered a threat. Carla and Shelley were both giving me a deliberate show, wanting my approval, but Kate and Julia started in too, and it was confusing. 

I've heard of women's periods synching up when they live together, and I wondered if they got horny when one or more of them was getting laid. I wondered if they could tell sex was going on and were reacting to it. 

Whatever the case was, Kate and Julia were both, essentially, flirting with me too. There was so much flashing of skin, tossing of hair and complimenting each other going on that we were all having a great morning. 

One by one they retreated to their rooms to get ready for the week. I didn't work Monday's so I just watched the news and sipped coffee, trying to forget about the raging hard on under my robe. 

Kate was going to give Carla a ride to work, they both worked downtown, Carla at a soap store and Kate in a clothing store. When Kate went into her room calling to Carla she would be about fifteen minutes I didn't pay it any attention.

Then suddenly Carla was sitting beside me on the couch, right under Kate's room, which opened onto a landing overlooking the living room. Carla smiled at me as I looked at her, bemused. Reaching into my robe she wrapped her little hand around my erection. 

"I thought that's what I might find in here. I was being naughty, and so were the others, teasing you like that." Without saying anything else Carla pulled out my cock and dropped her mouth over my knob. Her mouth felt amazing, warm and nimble. 

I accepted her attention without hesitation, listening for my daughter's approach, but focusing on the delightful sensations Carla's lips and tongue were creating all over the tip of my penis. Slurping away, letting a lot of saliva coat my skin, Carla gobbled my knob, and stroked me into her mouth. 

Knowing my window of time was short, I allowed my orgasm to build and did nothing to stop it from spilling over. I relished the rise of tension even as her little mouth caresses me so softly. She focused on my tip, one hand jacking me off, the other massaging me balls. 

Salacious thoughts roamed freely across my mind. I did nothing to direct them, nor did I resist them. I was already committing such a sordid act that other filthy thoughts seemed tame. Letting a teenager who had some mental issues suck my cock while my daughter of the same age could walk in at any second was utterly depraved.

It was a short step to imagining Kate peering over the railing and looking straight down at her best friend blowing her father. Seeing it in my mind, Kate's fascinated, but repelled face flushed and wrinkled in confusion as Carla drank my jism right in plain view tasered my libido and I erupted. I spilled my sperm into Carla's willing mouth while wanting my daughter to witness it. 

I gripped the sofa cushions tightly as I emptied my balls into that little woman's mouth. The sordid feel of her tongue swirling my spunk over my knob made me jet more and more cum into her. 

My climax went on and on. It was a different thing just letting my orgasm happen with no holding back. It was more gratifying somehow. I sighed and emptied myself into her and lay back, letting her bath me with her mouth. Carla lavished me with attention, drinking my sperm, then cleaning me with her mouth and lapping my balls gratefully. 

For several moments she simply worshiped my cock with her mouth, smiling to herself not even looking at me. Then Kate called out that she was ready and Carla dropped my prick and stood up, her chin shiny with drool and my jism. 

Kate came onto the landing, fumbling with her gear, and Carla casually flipped my robe over my drained cock. I was slumped and sweaty on the sofa as Kate came down the stairs just above me. Carla licked her lips and cleared them of any stains, while wiping her wet chin. 

The two girls chatted about what the four friends were going to do that night as they left, and I sat stunned that the mouth speaking to my daughter was the same mouth that had just been full of my sperm. 

I went back to bed, as usual, but sleep was fitful. I was too excited. I went downstairs and started writing songs. Of course. 

The next few weeks are a total blur. It was summer, the ladies came and went from work and school and staying at friends' houses. We never had any kind of regular schedule. I always worked the same hours, Thursday-Saturday 9-2, but who would be home or awake when I got there was utterly random. 

The affair with Carla continued unabated, but it was simply a circumstance of convenience. If we were able to we fucked, if we weren't we didn't. No weirdness, possessiveness or jealousies. I knew she was seeing guys, because I heard her and Kate talk about them. And it was fine. I took Kate's cue and was happy for Carla because she didn't date often.

Something was changing in her. Carla became more outgoing, friendly and confident. I was well aware that it was at least in part to her affair with me, but it was deeper than that too. It was finally being out of that awful home she had been living in. 

Obviously ours was not a "normal" home environment, what with all the illicit sex, but in most ways it was a normal home. We loved each other, and Carla's entry into our dynamic had improved things. 

Kate had a new energy to play off of, one that was familiar and old, but this level of proximity, while both were in such happy times of their lives, was working wonders on both of their self-esteems. That rippled outward to both the other ladies in the house. 

Julia was no longer a torment to her older sister, but a source of pride; someone to brag about to Carla. The two older girls heaped attention on the younger girl and the cycle of affection was fueling all of them. 

Shelley was equally a part of that mutual appreciation society, but she had the added benefit of abruptly having much more, and much better, sex with her suddenly attentive husband. I felt so much love for her then. She glowed to me, and I was as horny with her as I was with Carla, just for very different reasons.

Oddly when I fucked Shelley I imagined Carla watching us, smiling her secret smile, and touching herself. It made me so hot thinking about Carla downstairs, knowing I was fucking my wife while thinking of her. Twisted, convoluted shit.

When I was fucking Carla, I loved watching her cum. Yet when it was my time to climax, in my mind I imagined my family gathered around watching and rubbing their clits, overjoyed that Daddy was so sexy.

I believe I may have been having a mental breakdown, but it was benefiting everyone so I was in no hurry to stop. 

One fabulous morning Carla emerged late from her room in the basement. Everyone else was long gone and I was clearing out my email inbox when she appeared, totally nude and disheveled from sleep. It appeared for all the world as if she did this all the time. She wasn't overtly trying to be sexy, she stumbled groggily, and was glazed-over looking as she smiled at me. But she must have known we were alone.

My cock sprang to life seeing her nudity; her smooth flat belly, small soft breasts, and the bald delight of her pubic mound incited me instantly. I gave her time to drink some coffee and wake up before I went over and lifted her onto the counter top, on all fours. 

As she curled over herself, her thin spine curved gracefully. I parted her legs and pried open her buttocks to begin lapping at her pussy. Carla was already dripping wet, so I knew she had planned this. I devoured her folds, relishing her slippery, soft labia, and delving in for the pearl of her clit. 

I didn't stop eating her delicious young cunt until she begged me to fuck her. To her credit, Carla allowed herself a few dozen orgasms before she wailed at me to stop. I held her down on the counter, pressing her tiny body to the cold marble, and I thrust my cock into her dripping juncture.

I was up on my tip-toes, unable to get all of my cock inside her, but the angle seemed to do something inside her, because Carla was moaning and grunting like I'd never heard before. I fucked her faster than usual, taking her hard.

I began whispering to her. "This is what you get. This is what happens when you walk around nude."

"Are you mad at me Daddy?' she whimpered in a higher voice than she usually used. 

It made me cock throb when she spoke like that. I missed the timing of my next thrust and I popped out of her pussy, squishing up along the groove of her ass. 

"Do you want to put it in my ass Daddy?" she asked in a breathless, little girl voice that annoyed and aroused me. "You can if you want to. I have to obey Daddy."

Those words hit me like a physical force. The wind went out of my lungs, my heart skipped a beat and my whole spine jerked with lust that made my cock absolutely tingle. That was the sexiest shit I had ever heard anyone say. 

"Are you Daddy's little girl?' I whispered, ashamed to say those words, words I had said to my own daughters. I still called Kate that from time to time. It was a game we played. When Kate wanted something she knew I would be reluctant to give, she played "little girl" and talked in a cutsie-pie voice, and I called her my little girl sarcastically. 

Carla had witnessed this type of exchange between us for years. Bringing this into our dirty secret made me lose my shit. Basically Carla was inviting me to pretend she was my daughter, Kate, a person she knew better than she knew me. 

As I repositioned myself to enter her pussy, she whispered. "Daddy, please take my ass. I want give you all my holes." Then she reached her thin arms back and held open her buttocks. Lewdly presenting me with her little sphincter, she arched her back more and rested her forehead on the marble.

Obscenely offered such a tempting gift, I leaned over and spat on her pink opening. It looked too tiny and tight. I was afraid of hurting her, but I noticed that she was glistening with something clear all around her asshole.

"Did you plan for this, you bad little girl?' 

"I'm sorry Daddy, but I want this so badly. I belong to you Daddy, all of me."

Carla's impression of Kate was uncanny. Because all I could see were her wide open ass, her thin arms and arched back, it could have been anyone splayed across my kitchen counter. Ashamed of myself, but suddenly more aroused than I had any right to be, I reached up and moved Carla's hair, hiding it. Her thick auburn tresses were nothing like Kate's thin blonde locks. 

With Carla's presence mostly obscured I was free to fantasize about fucking my own daughter's ass. 

I sighed, humiliated by my lust, but too far gone now to stop. I pressed the spongy tip of my cock-head to her tight, little ring and pressed forward. The spit and whatever lube she had used made my cock slip past the tightness of her anus without too much problem. 

The apex of the stretch made her tremble and I didn't hesitate, but pushed through, having learned that from years ago when Shelley and I tried it for a while. We still did anal every so often. Something would tweak in Shelley and she'd want it in her ass something fierce, and I'd do it for her. I liked anal fine, but she didn't like me to ask for it, so I let it be her thing and never made it mine. 

I pressed past the tightest part and then slowed way down, giving Carla a moment to accommodate the girth of my shaft. The heat of her bowel on my knob was amazing. It felt wonderful, the smooth press of her muscle. The ring of her sphincter throbbed and spasmed around my shaft as she tried to relax. 

I stroked her smooth back and comforted her. "There, there sweetie, Daddy loves you. I'll be gentle." I soothed her with my hands, roaming her body, making her feel special and sexy. I cupped her meager breasts and kissed her back, my knob wedged in her asshole. 




The Sisterhood: Carla



"Daddy, it hurts, but I like having you inside me. I want to feel you everywhere at once." Carla was talking more and more like Kate as a teen. There was no baby talk, just a dead on impression of my daughter. Kate's voice emerging, muffled, from beneath the spill of Carla's hair as she bent over on the counter, her hands still holding her ass cheeks open for me. 

"Please fuck me, please fuck my ass." She begged, the slight whine in her voice the exact quality of my eldest daughter. I proceeded to fuck her, a bewildered, possessed passion impelling me to drive my cock into my own daughter's ass. 

I gripped her by the back of the neck with one hand as leverage while the other held her tiny breast as I slammed into her bowels, far harder than she deserved. Grunting, she accepted my thrusts and imitated Kate's voice terrifyingly well. "Yes! Yes! Daddy, fuck me. Fuck me hard! I like it rough Daddy. I can take it." 

The sound of my belly slapping her ass lewdly while I feeling the heat of her body surrounding my cock was as sweet a collection of sensations as I could ask for. I would have been delighted by just that. Yet her amazing impression of my daughter, and the incestuous perversion of feeling this good fucking a teenager pretending to be my daughter had me close to climax in moments. 

A horrible voice in my head was chanting "It's Kate" over and over. My eyes were half lidded, imposing the image of Kate's face over the view of Carla's lithe body receiving my cock inside her tight ass. 

The keen sting of shame that ran along my cock urged me to cum soon and end this immoral encounter. But that very immorality was what felt so good about it. I was stunned by the power the thought of fucking my own daughter was. 

I wanted her to feel pleasure and I wanted to be the one who gave it to her. I wanted to be able to give my precious little girl anything she wanted. And she had begged me to fuck her in the ass. She still was. 

"Fuck me. Fuck me! Fuck me Daddy. Fuck your little girl."

"I'm cumming."

"Fill me up Daddy. Fill my ass with your seed."

I did. Oh god, I dumped so much cum inside her soft tush I felt hollowed out afterwards. I had a dizzy spell and had to sit down at the kitchen table after a moment. 

Carla went and got me some water to drink, and then soaked a clean dishrag at the tap. She came back to me where I was drinking the water and trying to screw my sanity back in place. When she dropped down between my legs and began to clean my cock with a warm wet rag I felt absolved of my perversion. 

She bathed me gracefully and smiled down at my cock the whole time, pleased with herself. I felt unmoored, and loved the sense of freedom, of uninhibited abandon.

Somehow I didn't lose myself utterly in all this. I was surrounded by joyful women, and was sleeping with two of them, but I didn't overstep. I didn't presume I could have it all. I didn't actually want to sleep with my daughters; I enjoyed the sordid perversion of it, not the reality. Carla allowed, no encouraged me to fantasize.

Some days my back yard was filed with tanning girls, other times just a single one or another of them. If I was lucky enough to be home when it was just Carla, I would get to see some topless sunbathing. Our backyard was fairly exposed, so certainly other neighbors were getting a show as well, which meant I stayed inside and waited for Carla to come to me. 

Lying out, mostly nude would eventually get her too horny to resist and she would come inside eager to fuck. On one of those kind of days Carla found me at my keyboard, writing a song about watching her in the sun. 

I played her what I had so far and, gushing her happiness over it, she knelt down between my legs and blew me as I sat in my chair, her appreciation evident in her eager sucking. I was staring down at her gorgeous face as she slurped away on my cock when suddenly I heard Kate.

"Hi Dad." She said casually.

I was too lost in the amazing blow job to have noticed her approach. I didn't even flinch I was so stunned to hear her speak. I simple froze perfectly still. I merely moved my eyes from looking at Carla's mouth, where it stretched around my shaft, to my daughter standing four feet away.

Kate was holding her phone like she was texting. She stood just outside the doorway to the music room, a computer monitor obscuring her view of my cock in her best friend's mouth, but Carla's legs were in plain view. The angle of her knees would clearly indicate where her body was oriented. All Kate would need do is look over and she would understand Carla's head was in my lap. 

"Have you seen Carla?" Kate glanced at me, barely brushing me with her eyes and looking out into the yard where Carla's sunbathing stuff was strewn about. 

"She was out there a minute ago." I said. Carla had frozen when she'd heard Kate, her mouth still full of me, but as the conversation continued I felt her begin moving her mouth around my cock, her distracting tongue sliding around the underside of my shaft. 

"I bet she's peeing. What are you writing? It sounded pretty." I hadn't been paying since the blow job began, so Kate had been home for a few minutes. 

"I'm writing next year's summer hit. You want to sing it?" Kate is an amazing singer. Carla is an amazing cock sucker. I was sweating, and terrified and totally turned on. 

"That was way too poppy for me. I like my songs darker." Kate looked into my eyes and smiled, to take the sting out of her words, I guess. I held utterly still as Carla took my knob almost all the way out of her mouth and swirled her tongue all around the head. 

It felt sensational. I was on the verge of climaxing, thrilled that my little girl was right there, a few feet from my throbbing cock. It was terrible and amazing. 

Carla worked me over like a champ. I was astonished that Kate couldn't hear the slurping sounds as Carla drooled all over my cock. Instead she kept typing, glancing at me, and then back at her phone. I'd never been so happy to see her absorbed by the goddamn thing. 

"Who are you texting?" I said suddenly, shamefully wanting her to stay and talk until I climaxed. I was abruptly fixated on filling her best friends mouth with my cum while Kate spoke to me.

"The girls. We were planning on going out tonight for some drinks. I thought Carla would be here to help me think of a place to go."

Carla was working over my knob, moving her mouth over me and pumping my shaft quickly, but mostly silently. I was close.

"She's around someplace. Did you try her room?"

"Yeah. Whatever. She'll be back soon. She loves being here. I've never seen her so happy."

Kate looked me in the eye, and I almost cried I was in such emotional strain. "Thank you Daddy. It means a lot that you let her live here, and that you've been so good to her." 

I spurted my first jet of spunk into Carla's mouth when my daughter called me Daddy. I closed my eyes and quaked in little spasms as she told me how much it meant to her that I brought her wounded friend into our home. 

I forced myself to open my eyes and look into my daughter's face as she thanked me, but my cock was stealing all my attention as it erupted in the sweet, thirsty mouth of Kate's best friend. 

"Don't be embarrassed. You are totally blushing." Kate held her phone up and aimed it at me. Frozen, I felt utterly debauched rapture as my eldest daughter took a photo of me while I shot my load over her friend's tongue. 

Try and imagine having an orgasm in a situation remotely like that one. 

I'll try and help break it down. I was receiving amazing oral sex. Feel that yourself. 

Add in the salacious delight in it being someone inappropriate. Who is yours? 

Really dig in and pick someone naughty. Someone that if anyone knew, you'd lose what reputation you do have. 

Now really feel their mouth on you. And if you are close to cumming, imaging doing it. 

Now add someone watching who doesn't know this is going on. You have to hide every reaction to your orgasm, but that wonderful, sordid mouth won't stop making you cum. It feels amazing. Every cell in your body is focused on it, but someone- who it would be terrible if they saw this-(But secretly you want them to see) is looking right at you. 

Kate was staring at me, focusing her camera on me, but thankfully she was looking at the image of me and not looking at me with her own two eyes. 

Carla swirled her tongue all around my knob, the slippery feeling of my jism sloshing around my glands making me flinch with over-stimulation. Kate looked at the photo and laughed. 

"You look like you're shitting yourself. I can't wait to show mom.' Kate was absorbed by the photo as I sat perfectly still, shaking with the after effects of suppressing my reaction to an amazing climax. Carla let my cock fall from her lips and she smiled at me while she showed me my load on her tongue. 

I glanced down, taking a photo in my mind, for later, then I looked back at Kate. The image of Carla's adorable face with a mouthful of my sperm overlaid that of my smiling daughter. 

"I'm going to go get my bathing suit on." Kate announced and ran off up the stairs. Carla kissed the tip of my dick and leaped up. She ran outside, topless, and stretched out on the lounge chair before Kate could get out there. 

I almost forgot to put my cock away before turning around to watch Kate join Carla. I was in shock over what had happened. I sat and stared at the two of them talking and laughing, Carla's bikini top loosely slung over her chest, untied.

I watched my daughter show my lover the photo of me cumming in her mouth. Carla laughed really hard, a deep genuine laughter that sounded lovely. 

I was glad my humiliation was so funny. I really was, because Carla hadn't laughed like that in years, from what Kate told me. 

The summer flew by. I fucked Carla in every room in the house except my own. I wouldn't do it in our bed. That seemed to be one line I wouldn't cross. I pumped that tiny body full of buckets of cum. She had thousands of orgasms and we had a great time.

The last time we fucked I had no idea it would be the last, but I'm glad it was. I was losing my sense of who I was. I wasn't some stud with two lovers, or a creep who seduced young girls and dreamed of fucking his own daughter. At least I hadn't been before, and I didn't want to be any longer. I wanted my life back.

Then I had it. The summer was ended; the women in my life all went back to school. Carla and Kate went to two different colleges in town, Kate for music and Carla taking general studies until she chose a major. Shelley went back to teaching high school drama and Julia went into high school. 

And I was alone in the house most of the time again. Carla moved out with one of the other gals from that Sisterhood of theirs and I only saw her once in a while now. When we met up it was just like one of my kids coming home after a trip. It was big hugs and smiles and joy to see she was doing okay, but the sexual tension was gone. 

There was one crazy Christmas party that she and I hooked up, but that seems like a story for another time.